#it bruised almost immediately and hurts like a motherfucker

[madamairlock]

Hey Universe?

Can I go one day this week without slamming my hand into something?

Thanks,

The poor woman who just slammed the corner of her medicine cabinet between the bones of her hand

[innerfare]

Smutty Captain Kid Headcanons - Part 2 

Summary: A collection of NSFW headcanons for Captain Kid

Genre: Smut

CW: oral sex, dirty talk, mean dom Kid, spanking, biting, spitting, rough sex, unsafe sex, Kid might be a bit toxic, threesomes

———

Gets a little too turned on if you flip him off during sex. The first time you did it, he was fucking you from behind and goading you like he usually does; unable to talk you flipped him the bird, and he came almost instantly. Is there a such thing as a middle finger kink? Because if so, he has it.

Super into sexy costumes. French maid, innocent bunny, cute sailor girl, the Gol D. Roger costume you customized to be comically inappropriate. Aside from costumes, leopard print lingerie is his favorite. 

Sounds like a feral animal when he goes down on you. Prefers to do it from behind because it seems to make you even more vulnerable. Has eaten you out on the deck of the Victoria Punk, you clinging to the wheel and keeping a lookout for any crew members, Kid shoving a finger up your ass. Eats ass, too. His favorite is the way you gasp and whine when he spits on you to lube you up. Definitely spanks you while he goes down on you, both ass and tits, and squeezes your thighs like he’s trying to rip the skin open. 

Most nights the two of you are together, it sounds like there’s a rabid dog loose in his cabin. The crew has come to accept this. 

Never leaves your nipples alone. Pinches them, squeezes them, flicks them, bites them. You had to set boundaries re: your nipples because they were raw all the time. 

Wants to hurt you, but also wants you to hurt him. Will grab your face in his massive hand and squeeze until you slap him, will spit in your mouth and swallow when you spit back, will bite the ever-loving crap out of your neck (like actually chomp down on you, no such thing as sweet little love bites), laughs like a mad man if you rake your nails down his chest and draw blood (bonus points for hurting his nipples), never smacks your ass less than ten times, will cum immediately if you try to bite his ear off. 

If you show even a hint of dissatisfaction after the deed is done, he’s back on top of you in an instant pounding away. 

Is the absolute worst about birth control. Complains incessantly if you make him wear condoms, usually because they’re ‘too small’ and cramp his style, claims he has a latex allergy and condoms give him a rash (literally not true). Annoyed by his whining, you try the pull out method, only to find he’s even worse about that. “But it feels so good.” “I don’t want to pull out.” “Why should I even bother? We both want me to cum inside of you, anyway.” “Stop complaining.” “I didn’t become a pirate to follow rules, y/n.” He does genuinely try to pull out, but he’s so bad at it. You have no choice but to get on some form of pill before you have a little red-haired menace running around. 

Once you do get on that pill, you never don’t have his cum inside you. He cums a cartoonish amount, too, and by the time you’re cleaned out, he’s mounting you again. 

Believes in kissing and telling. In particular, he wants you telling. He wants you getting drunk and telling the bar that his balls are the size of a bull’s. He wants you telling the crew you’re taking it easy because you got dicked down the night before and you’re sore as a motherfucker. He wants you tearing apart the infirmary for bruise cream, loudly announcing it’s because Kid can’t just make love sweetly but has to ride you like an animal every night. 

Loves fucking you out in the open. Usually it's on the deck of the Victoria Punk. Has also fucked you in an alleyway outside a tavern before.

Really loves the idea of a threesome but is far too jealous of a lover to make it work. If you like girls, he’s obsessed with the idea of you being dominated by one. Also enjoys letting other people watch, especially men (strict no touching rule); he wants to show off his prowess. 

That being said, Killer is the exception. Kid is more than happy to switch off with Killer, the two of them tag teaming you until you just can’t take anymore. Killer can even fuck you when Kid’s not there to oversee.

Is secretly a sweet little boy, and it shows in after care. Calls you all sorts of sweet nicknames when you’re in his big arms afterward, but says them quietly in your ear. Tells you that if you disappeared, he would tear the world apart looking for you, and if you died, he would set the world on fire. And he’s just crazy enough to mean it.

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[climbing-starrs]

Tell me more about Orions life immediately please

HELP i just saw this after dadposting don't enable me glass (/J PLEASE ENABLE ME GOD I LOVE MY SILLIES)

A LOT OF IT IS IN THE WORKS UNFORTUNATELY (@authorswife and @fuckyouimcrustyheathen is helping me out with a small chunk of it!!!) BUT THE NOTES I CAN SHARE AS OF RN

orion has three (3) dads!!! they're related to 2 of them, and one is step :]

they didn't get to know one of their biological dads since he left before they were born (from what i know) but they're super close to the other, victor ravenswood!! (owned by pumpkin/mika) their step dad however,,, they're on thin ice about. he's not a bad guy, orion's just suspicious and they don't want their dad getting hurt again (dw they eventually warm up to him)

YES THEY HAVE ABANDONMENT ISSUES (ie being a clingy MOTHERFUCKER)

they don't have any siblings (may change?) but they do have a childhood friend !!

sudden lore drop ORION IS NOT FULLY HUMAN. they do not know this. quite literally nobody knows this except for their dad because it does not show up in them in a very noticeable way (it acts more like a bodily disorder, being immunocompromised, prone to bleeding and bruising and overall injury and a bunch of other stuff they kind of just pass off as shitty genes).

they were a sweet kid in elementary/pre-k and then this motherfucker hit middle school and quickly got mixed up in the wrong crowd. started out with staying past curfew, "minor" drugs, stuff like that before it turned into almost never staying at home and constantly being surrounded by shitty people and doing shitty things (i am not going to go into detail for reasons!!)

obviously they got away from this but not without a big smack in the face (metaphorically, kind of) ie the whole gun thing and other traumatic experiences throughout that time. they prefer not to look back at those days due to them and a lot of guilt surrounding their own actions and definitely how they hurt people around them

with a lot of emotional and physical help from peers and family they did get to heal and eventually got to go back into schooling :]

theyre super into forensics!!! but ended up choosing the nursing path instead,, which is still dope as hell

they didn't really know about the whole inhuman/altrs/etc shit until they started seeing more stuff to do with them and some encounters themselves, and probably ends up getting their job at IRIS with some help from their dad due to his line of work

orion also gets a lot of their fashion sense from their dad which i think is very dope

however!! they didn't end up getting top surgery until a year or two after they started working for IRIS, kind of just disappearing off the face of the earth for the time they had to take to heal up.

also they hate dogs /hj theyre kind of scared of them (they make exceptions i promise)

they are not medicated but definitely need to be

I THINK THATS ALL I GOT FOR RN RAHJSDGHRKJDGRD i love my silly doctor tysm glass ilysm

[taughtdefense]

by some miracle of god, medicine, or eldritch stubbornness ( he’d practically invented the term stubborn )—or maybe a combination of all three—he wakes up, his eyes snapping open to meet stark white tiling—

& he wonders, for a split second, if he’s died for a third time. he kind of feels like he did die—his entire body feels like one gigantic bruise. not that it wouldn’t be surprising, because he seems to have a target on his fucking back. case & motherfucking point: being caught up in a karate war of epic proportions. case & another motherfucking point: the silver voice.

or maybe this version of ethan has his own personal hell written down as looking a lot like a hospital room, since he’s intimately familiar with them in this lifetime.

but currently, he has more pressing concerns than being disappointed by not dying.

WHEN ETHAN NO LONGER FEELS ROBBY’S BLOODSTAINED HAND IN HIS, RAW, VISCERAL, BURNING PANIC UNLIKE ANY OTHER GRIPS HIS WHOLE BODY. it slices through his frayed, jumbled nerves like a hot knife through butter, exposing the nerve-endings to further agony; his senses sharpen as adrenaline crashes through his body with the force of a tidal wave, his heart rate monitor spiking accordingly. he doesn’t even feel the iv stuck in his arm, providing necessary fluids. he’s only ever felt like sheer amount of this panic a few times, & the most recent one had been spent being more worried about silver coming back to hurt robby, while he was bleeding out on the old cobra kai dojo back room’s floor.

this time around, he remembers… scarily, nothing, except for robby’s hand in his, & the overwhelming need to protect him—not that that’s anything new, exactly. the silver voice had been yelling at him… or maybe that was the actual silver. …wait, no, it’d definitely been the voice screaming at him to fight back, or you & robby will die… he thinks.

god, his fucking head hurts.

who were they fighting? what the fuck happened? why can’t he remember?

he can’t sense robby next to him.

you should find him, mr. wilson. the silver voice suggests, & you almost scream out loud at him to shut up. before your assailants do.

no, no, no, no no no no. where’s his boyfriend? why isn’t he here? did something happen to him? is he okay? where the fuck is he?

NO.

❝ robby..! ❞ in ethan’s panic while rocketing up out of the hospital bed, his hand snaps out to removes the nasal cannula in his nose & pull out the iv, head snapping around the room wildly while he attempts to haul himself out of bed, his various monitors going haywire.

he doesn’t care about any of that.

where’s robby?

( johnny, vanessa & chase had to wrangle him home—pacing around the waiting room floor with slightly bloodstained clothes wouldn’t help ethan get better. )

frustratingly, he doesn’t get very far—he needs the iv, clearly, because… holy goddamn christ on burnt pita bread, his vessel feels so indescribably weak—he barely manages to roll over without blacking out again. when he feels someone’s hand press gently down against his chest, pushing him back down against the bed, he flinches & makes a panicked, strangled noise. his head immediately snaps up from the pillow to ready himself. his elbow whips out before his head can twist back around towards the source—& his attempt to elbow the assailant is blocked.

adrenaline running high, ethan rips his elbow back, immediately preparing to strike once again, silver whispering at him to aim for the septum. he quickly adjusts the angle of his elbow accordingly, locking eyes with the assailant, then—

he freezes, dark brown eyes widening as they eyes land on mr. larusso sitting in the plastic chair, which had been pulled up to his bedside. his heart rate monitor spikes again, but he doesn’t relax, even as he slowly—maybe too slowly—drops his elbow, his hands resting at his sides. his chest heaves slightly with adrenaline & panic. he can’t talk for a few moments.

❝ mr. larusso..? ❞ ethan asks weakly, stunned. his mouth feels like it’s filled with cotton, rough from disuse. ❝ shit, i’m so sorry! ❞ he blurts out, clearly distressed that he almost elbowed him in the face. holy shit. sam would have been so mad at him. the next four questions come tumbling out of his lips, rapid-fire:

❝ where’s cobra kai? ❞ he remembers now— ❝ they… they found us while we were walking home from a date- where is robby? is he okay? mr. larusso, did you- ❞ then, he notices the sun shining outside from the open blinds behind mr. larusso’s head, & his next words die in his throat. it’s nearly the afternoon, based on the sunlight… but it’d been nighttime when robby’s bloodied hand had been in his, at like… nine pm, or something.

…has he been out for thirteen hours?

❝ …oh… ❞ ethan whispers, his voice small.

ethan wakes up to @recurrere’s daniel sitting at his hospital bedside.

[capettitwrites]

Blurb: Haunted by her mother's tragic death, taxidermist Harriet seeks solace in the stillness of her workshop. Memories intertwine with the daily rituals of preserving life in death, while Jenna, her business partner, becomes an unexpected anchor in the cold embrace of grief. Together, they attempt to navigate the delicate balance between love and death.

CW: Self-harm and suicide ideation, grief and loss, graphic descriptions, mental health struggles, family issues, strong language

It’s back again. It likes to attack when I’m alone. Sitting on the tram. Walking through the industrial parking lot. Standing at the warehouse door. When my heart aches and everything feels pointless, my wrists thrum. I wonder whether it’s the knowledge of others' self-inflicted pain that causes the thrumming or whether the thrum itself drives people to cut. I’ve never cut before. Only ever imagined the blade. How it might slice neatly through soft skin, moisturised and sunscreened just like Mum taught me. 

‘You have to protect your skin so you stay young and beautiful forever,’ she would say. An unspoken lecture on the dangers of cancer. 

Or perhaps I’d have to hack into the skin to be rid of the thrum. Carving deep to the root of it and removing it from me in its entirety. A gouged crosshatch of skin left on my forearms. Staring at them now as I battle with my keys, I can almost see the blood. Then what would Mum say? 

Her funeral was nearly a month ago now. The sun bore down, blistering heat as we hid in air conditioned rooms. One lonely cloud disrupted that endless blue, reflecting the ocean underneath. Heat mirage rippling off the black tar roads in waves. Through the window, a child and their father tippy-tapped their way across the burning sidewalk with bare feet. 

A perfect Perth summer. 

Everything Mum would have loved. 

No one else was here yet. The immediate family got an early viewing of the body. Probably so we wouldn’t break down when other people were around. Just behind heavy walnut doors lay Mum’s corpse. Not my actual Mum. She’d left long ago. This was just pageantry, I tried to tell myself, a performance to make us feel better about the whole situation. It did nothing to stop the way my heart decayed in my chest. Finally, Grandma and Pop entered the lobby. Our hug was cut short when the funeral director offered for us to cross that final barricade into the room. This was really happening. I took a deep breath before entering. 

Ammonia and borax. Formaldehyde and alcohol. The smells of my workshop don’t usually register in my brain but today they’re almost offensive. I guess I’ve been away for a while. Weaving through metal worktables, gliding past shelves of domes, and reaching between a bear and a chicken I open the only window. Shoulder mounts and shadow boxes clutter the rest of the walls, Derek the giraffe stretching his neck from mid wall to high ceiling. I can’t stop myself from running my hand along his fur when I pass, the taxidermist in me screaming about the damaging oils on my fingers. 

With a clink, I place my instruments on the workbench. Perfectly aligned. There are a few specimens waiting for me in my freezer; a roadkill possum, someone’s pet budgie, cane toads. Staring down into the freezer chest, I see Mum in the mortuary cabinets and I’m just as frozen as her. Blue and stiff and naked. She needs a jacket. She hates the cold. 

‘I thought you weren’t coming back for another week?’

‘Fuck!’ 

Jolting up, I smack my head on the underside of a metal shelf. Domes above rattle and pain blooms at the place of impact. Just bruised, I’m sure. Still hurts like a motherfucker though. 

‘You ‘right? You’d think God was in that chest the way you’re staring at it.’

Jenna is leaning against the door frame, smirk on her lips but a crease between her eyebrows. Pity hiding in her eyes. The same quiet sadness that filled the faces at the wake. 

‘I’m so sorry, Harriet,’ Aunt Cas whispered in my ear. Her hug was bone crushing and her perfume overwhelming but I didn’t push her away. The familiarity of it dulled the pulsing in my head. If I closed my eyes, I was sure I’d wake up to find myself in Grandma’s living room. TV blaring Play School, cigarette smoke pluming from the porch, and ceiling lights compensating for the closed window blinds. Cas’ tears soaking into my shoulder kept my eyes open. I needed to be present. This wasn’t a moment I could escape. It wouldn’t be fair to Mum. The sea of sad faces stared back at me, all tear tracks and sorrow. My eyes were dry. So dry with the air conditioning sapping away any moisture. It was too cold. I shivered. 

Jenna slips in beside me and shuts the freezer door. So close, her warm skin radiates through my cold and for a moment I think that I must have died. Standing here I’ve become as cold as the dead, just another one of our specimens waiting for treatment. Jenna is alive and I’m just a ghost. 

‘Don’t want those to start defrosting, hey?’ she jokes as she sits on the chest. Her knee bumps against mine and her hand rubs my shoulder. Solid and real. Not dead. 

‘Sorry. Couldn’t decide which one I wanted to do,’ I lie. 

‘We got a fresh order of butterflies yesterday, if you wanna work on some of them. That gorgeous Birdwing you were waiting for came in.’ 

I know what she’s doing. Give me an easy job to ease back into the swing of things. I must look an absolute mess if she’s offering up butterflies. Her eyes try to meet mine but I refuse to grant her that privilege. She doesn’t need to see the exhaustion in them and know that she’s right to worry. I don’t want her to treat me as lesser. In avoiding her searching gaze, mine lands on a thawing rabbit. 

‘You working on that?’ I ask. 

‘Yeah. Memorial piece. Just waiting for her to loosen up a bit more. Wanna make the base for it?’ 

Deflection. 

‘Nah, you can do that. You always make prettier environments than me anyway.’ 

Jenna doesn’t stop me taking the fluffy little bunny away from her station or complain when I place it at mine. Rubbing up its body to loosen the joints before laying it flat in front of my instruments, the silver table seems shinier. I can hear birds chirping outside where there was muffled silence before. Tension slips off my shoulders. Tawny fur is soft in my bare hands. In the corner of my eye, Jenna collects a base from the shelves and a storage box of greenery. 

I ignore her setting up close beside me and take my scalpel in hand. The thrum tingles at my wrist. It would be so easy to remove it. A clean, surgical cut. Glide the sharp edge against my skin, only a little bit of pressure required. Just like cutting into an animal, only there would be more blood. 

…A lot more blood. 

‘When did you get back?’ Jenna asks, her gloves snapping as she slips them on. Her smile meets her eyes now, the way it usually does when we work together. A fiery crackle behind hazel. 

‘Last night.’ 

‘Eager beaver.’ She bumps her hip against mine. ‘Want me to make the first cut?’ 

My hands are trembling. The scalpel shivers in my grasp. I hadn’t even noticed. 

‘No. I’ve got it.’ 

I take a breath and turn my hand into stone. Two fingers below the base of the skull, between her shoulder blades, and then I slice into her back. Gently peeling back the skin, I start to slide my hands inside, between her skin and the neat sack of organs. The methodical process, one I’ve done a million times before, washing over me like a warm shower. As my hand comes around to her stomach to wear her like a bracelet, my fingernail catches. 

Pop! 

A sudden dampness. The smell of faeces. My hands are red when I pull them out. 

There wasn’t as much blood as I was expecting. As she lay there in the hospital bed, it felt like she should have looked different somehow. Blue-ish white skin or the etched outline of bones or horrible disfigurement with puddles of blood coating the floor which we’d have to wade through just to get a look only to see she was beyond recognition. There was none of that. Some needles in her arm and a tube in her face. The doctor said something. I’m not sure what. I think my stepdad was listening because he nodded and the next thing I knew they unplugged her. 

Time of death, 02:26. 

I don’t remember saying goodbye. I don’t remember leaving her room. I don’t remember going to the maternity ward. There were only five babies in the nursery that day. On an average day there’d be anywhere between ten to fifteen newborns. The room looked so empty. It made sense, I thought. Mum was a midwife. How could new life come into the world when she’s gone? 

‘Harri!’

Jenna grabs my bloody wrist and tosses me away, quickly using cotton balls to sap up the mess. I watch as she takes over. Cleaning and sanitising. Removing the skin from the body. Rubbing in our tanning mixture. Peeling her gloves off and turning to me. 

Looking up at her from the floor with the light dancing through her locks, I feel every bit the penniless beggar. Pleading for a morsel of comfort. Hating the benevolence with which she answers my prayers. The Angel Jenna cups my cheek and I pull away. 

‘Fuck off,’ I choke out. A traitorous tear sneaks past my defences as snot blocks my nose and my throat constricts. It’s a coup. Another tear slips down my cheek and I scurry away from her sad eyes. Blood smears across my cheek as I try to stop the revolution, wiping tears from my face. It’s a losing battle. There’s nowhere to run from Jenna’s tender gaze. 

Don’t look at me…

And she doesn’t. Turning away, Jenna disappears from the room. 

Everything feels cold. As my hand tremors, I pull at my hair and try to breathe. It comes in stiff, stilted huffs. The more I try to control it, the less I can catch it. Panic clutches at my chest. Lost and overwhelmed, just a child crying in their bed. 

‘Look at me, baby,’ Mum said as she lifted my chin. ‘Take a deep breath. Together, okay?’ 

In through her nose, her chest rose slow and controlled. Her face was resolute as her hand swept up in time with her breath. I tried to copy, my own chest jittering as it swelled. Then she let go with an even exhale through her mouth, lips shaped like an ‘O’, hand pushing down. Wheezing, I followed. 

‘Good job, and again.’ 

She took it slower, breathed in for longer, as her lungs expanded deeper. Her hand continued to conduct the symphony of our breath. I found it easier though a few hiccups caught as new tears fell. Mum’s soft hands wiped them away as we breathed out. 

‘One last one. Ready? In…’ 

My hand copied hers as we inhaled. Like a cacophony of music finally coming together to play the same part, my breath followed hers in…

‘And out.’ 

Fsshhhhh…

‘AH!’ I scream when fingers wrap themselves around my wrists and tear my hands from my hair. Now-loose strands tangle through my fingers in a ratty net. The way they worm in my grasp, mixing with half-dried blood, makes me feel sick. A moist tea towel and then Jenna’s hand slips into mine. Calmly rubbing circles, dislodging the disgust from my hands, cleaning the rough edge of my life just like always. She crouches in front of me, mumbling apologies. 

‘Sorry for calling so late,’ Mum apologised, voice crackled through the receiver. 

‘Nah, you’re all good. What’s up?’ 

‘I had a shitty day at work.’ 

‘Oh yeah?’ I only half paid attention as she told me about her day, occasionally offering a grunt of acknowledgement or ‘that sucks’ of empathy. I was busy finishing up a quail. Honestly, I hadn’t realised how late it was until Mum called. Jenna passing out beside me should have been all the hint I needed that it was time to put the tools down an hour ago. 

‘So when are you coming back to Perth?’ Mum asked. I couldn’t help but giggle. She always did this. Slicking the last feather into place, I picked my phone up off the table. 

‘Mmm, I could use some Perth summer. Melbourne sucks for it.’ 

‘November then?’ She was being more insistent than usual. 

‘Yeah, towards the beginning. So I don’t miss out on any of the Melbourne warmth.’ I couldn’t tell her the truth. That we’d booked a stall at an oddities exhibition in the second half of November and Jenna would need me around to get through it together. The whole taxidermy thing icked Mum. She got weird around death. 

‘Sounds good. I’ll book you a flight.’ I could hear her tapping away on her computer. 

‘I can buy my own ticket,’ I chuckled, waiting for Mum’s rebuttal. 

‘It’s okay,’ Jenna whispers. Blood stains the cloth but when she pulls it away my hands are clean. She reaches up to my face next. The gentle baptism of her touch is too much. Cotton coarse against my skin. Every damp stroke stinging to my bones. Tension holding tight to my limbs. Everything hurts. 

My legs ached. Dragging my feet up the mountain, I couldn’t wait for us to get to the top. We walked along a thin path with leaves and branches encroaching on our space, Pop in front, Mum in back. I could hear her breathing rasp at my neck. She’d been falling behind on these walks lately. It must have worried her because she ended up going to the doctor about it. When she came back, she was quiet. I tried to ask her what the doctor said but she insisted she was fine, just tired. She’d been tired a lot. 

The sunset was blinding when we reached the top. A beautiful plateau for us to enjoy the view from. High above the valley, the landscape was drenched in rich greens and yellows. A rainbow of nature. We stared in awe, the trek proved its worth. 

While Pop and I shared water bottles and snacks, Mum wandered near the edge of the cliff. As she stood, I wondered what she was thinking. A hair’s breadth from oblivion, tempting death. Pop didn’t notice but I saw her. The tension in her limbs, the slight forward lean, her halted breath.

‘Mum!’ I called out to her and she jolted. For a moment I thought she’d go over the edge. She took a second before she turned, stepped back from the brink, but when her eyes met mine she failed to hide it. Despair. Fear. Loss. 

Jenna’s earthen eyes stare back at me. Warm, deep, golden. Giving in to the safety in there, I let go. Falling freely, I can’t stop the wails pouring out. It comes from my gut. Clenching painfully. Shaking my whole body. Tearing open my throat. I might be sick. The sound of my cries reverberates through the workshop. 

Though the corridors were winding, I knew them well. Following the stream of people, every white wall was somehow intimately familiar. Even the air itself. It was all home. Passing through the security doors and heading towards the baggage claim, the air conditioner worked overtime to keep out the heat. Once my bag came through the carousel, I stepped out into the warm to wait for Mum. Even in the late evening Perth managed to warm my bones. God, I’d missed this. 

Jenna gently takes me in her arms. Circling tight as snot runs down my nose and into her sleeve. I can feel her breath hitch with my head against her chest. A few tears of her own wet the top of my head. She rakes her fingers through my hair and massages at my scalp, breathing hushed assurances. 

‘I’m here, you’re not alone.’

Barbie drove by in her Star Vette, Mum’s hand at the wheel. It had been bad news from the doctor. Melanoma growths on Barbie’s skin, a result of too much tanning. Stage IV. No way of treatment. Barbie would be dead in a week. Melodramatic, just how I liked my play. I giggled as Mum gave a dramatic speech of woe, bemoaning Barbie’s impossible dreams that would never come to pass. 

‘There’s nothing left for me. Goodbye cruel world!’ Mum announced as she crashed into Barbie’s Dream House. Barbie went flying over the dashboard through the window, she hadn’t been wearing her seatbelt. 

Sound was sucked from the room like a vacuum. I looked over at Mum. Her empty face held stormy eyes, something I couldn’t quite read. Maybe fear. Maybe envy. She looked like she needed a hug. 

I throw myself into Jenna’s embrace, thawing the coldness, my hand smacking against the workbench in the process. Metal rings in my ears as tools clatter on top. It’s too loud. I reach out and slam my hand on top to stop it. The cold handle of the scalpel digging into my palm. 

‘Just breathe.’

My plane had landed over an hour ago at that point. It was nearly midnight and I was freezing. Mum hadn’t answered any of my texts or calls. A shiver wracked through my body again as I considered going back inside for the third time. Sitting on a bench in the pick up zone, I watched a woman reunite with a man. Maybe they were husband and wife, but he seemed like he was too old for that. Too young to be her father though. Siblings? 

My phone rang in my pocket. 

Caller ID: Step-Dad. 

I take hold of the scalpel. Its familiar weight in my hand is a comfort. The tears stop falling. It stings when I run my thumb along the blade, blood pearling at the site. I take a deep breath, just like Mum taught me. The edge rests gently on my wrist. Slowly, I begin to cut. 

‘We’ll get through this together.’ 

Lights beam and a car pulls up to the curb in front of me. I tear my eyes away from my phone, hope dull in my stomach. It’s a black Hyundai i30. Out of the driver’s side, a young woman with blonde hair steps out of the car. Much younger than I’ve seen her in years. She smiles when she sees me. 

‘Sorry I’m late, baby. Traffic was terrible,’ she says. Midnight turns into the breaking dawn and she seems to glow in that light like she was made for it. My phone falls to the ground and shatters. I run up to her, a child being picked up from their first day at school. Mum swings me around when she picks me up to hug me. 

Call rejected. 

‘Mummy!’

[caffeineandsociety]

What I'm saying is, you've gotta get rid of the idea that "there are oppressed classes and privileged classes" means "there are people whose lives are a constant grueling slog of misery and victimhood, and people whose lives are perfect and flawless or at LEAST who never have moments that suck because of oppression dynamics, let alone their position within them."

Toxic masculinity is not, first and foremost, "men are abusive toxic partners", it is "men often hurt themselves to meet an impossible ideal of Manliness, because if they don't, they'll be treated the same way they're pressured to treat women, or worse". Cishet people are demanded to constantly perform their cishetness, lest they be attacked as an impostor among us.

Cultural appropriation is often driven by the fact that white culture is extremely alienating; it defines itself almost entirely on What It Isn't. It eschews ornamentation, because That's What Dirty Savages Do And That's Tacky. It operates on Protestant work ethic and Catholic guilt, because Relaxation and Fun Are For Heathens. It is fatally individualistic, because you have to prove that you, individually, are stronger than any community of your Lessers, as well as the fact that dividing people up as much as possible sells more stuff. It is soul-crushing. The only reason it survives in this form is because, well, at least it's not AS bad as being treated the way other cultures are treated.

Meanwhile, people who are part of oppressed classes...aren't all, individually, being hatecrimed every 5 minutes. Some marginalized people in fairly liberal areas will live their entire lives never dealing with anything worse than a microaggression directly (how do you think we get a pretty big subset of sellouts?). On a group level, of course, the pressure and hate is constant - but think about it now, most people on this website go to work/school/wherever every day, while having at least one oppressed identity, and...don't immediately get swarmed by roving mobs of nazis every single fucking time you step out the door. You live. You have fun.

You can't make hard and fast rules that apply to every individual when who's going to be harmed by a power structure is a matter of statistics. If you live in one of the most liberal areas of California or New York, then you can be the most visibly queer motherfucker on the planet, and there's still a cishet teenage boy in Florida who just likes painting his nails who is probably being hurt more directly by the homophobia and transphobia of his peers than you ever have been, and the fact that his bullies are wrong about his identity isn't going to make his bruises heal any faster.

The sooner you recognize that generalizations about identity groups are NOT sharp lines in the sand that never get crossed, the more effective your activism will become, and the fewer people will slip through the cracks.

What I'm saying is, when you try to invent hard and fast rules about who is and is not affected by various bigotries based on group identity, you are losing the plot. The rabbit hole is ALWAYS deeper than that.

It's one thing to recognize which identity group(s) any given bigotry is nominally aimed at, and which one(s) it's designed to benefit, and acknowledge that on a net level it does indeed typically place the latter in a hierarchal position above the former, on a group level. That is good and important to do.

It is entirely another to deny when someone points out that, while it's certainly not enough to constitute a worse experience than the nominal target group on average, people who share a group identity with an oppressor class are often asked to give up a LOT, and follow a LOT of repressive rules themselves, to maintain that power structure, lest they be treated nearly if not fully just as bad as the outgroup - and the fact that there is little support for someone who declares that they're not going to do that is, indeed, weaponized by the systems of power that be.

And it is entirely another thing still, to declare that nobody who is NOT part of the nominal target group is hurt by an oppressive system, or that the harm done to an individual hit by "mistake" is somehow inherently lesser. To use a metaphor - if someone fires a gun into a crowd aiming at one person, but the bullet hits and kills someone standing near them instead, the intent to hit someone else doesn't make the victim any less dead.

To deny these facts is every bit as unsustainable in the long term as pretending that there are no oppressed and privileged classes in the first place.

[judethejudas]

‘Male Validation’ MW2 Soap x Trans! Male! Reader Smut

You’re new to the force but things don’t go as planned when you’ve been outed to the entire base.

Luckily someone has your back.

WARNING: transphobia, sexual themes, swearing, violence, discrimination. MINORS AND FEM ALIGNED DNI

(L/n) = Last name

“So, (l/n), you still got your lady bits down there?”

You felt your body being shoved against the wall, grunting in pain as you knew that was going to leave a nasty bruise.

Two men, who you were going to be deployed with and risk your lives together for the sake of your country, were being transphobic assholes.

You couldn’t believe it. Three years on testosterone and going through surgical operations to be comfortable in your own body. And for what? So the medical examiners could gossip and out you to the rest of the force?

“You’re real sick, you know that? What kind of woman gets all that shit done to them to look like a guy?”

“If any of my kids did what you did, I’d throw their sorry ass out in the streets and let ‘em rot out there.”

Now you’ve heard enough. No kid deserved to be treated like that. You certainly didn’t deserve it. You gritted your teeth and balled up your first, before putting all your strength into punching the nearest prick.

You landed him right in the jaw and he fell to the floor, clutching his face in pain.

“You’re gonna regret that one, tranny.” The man spit out viciously, before he abruptly left the floor and tackled you to the wall. He was about to kick your shit in.. real fucking bad.

“What the fuck is going on here?”

A man with a heavy Scottish accent growled out. All three of you looked the left and saw sergeant John Mactavish, or Soap as many referred to him.

One scary motherfucker.

The man who was holding you against the wall immediately backed off.

“Hey.. sergeant. You’re never gonna believe this but private (l/n)? Heh.. well, he’s actually a she.”

Soap stood there for a moment in silence, staring at you and squinting his eyes a little. It looked like he was glaring.

Oh shit, was he going to have a turn at beating your ass too?

He took a few steps forward.

But not to you.

He grabbed hold of the man who assaulted you by his hair and forcefully pulled him back to you.

“Does that look like a fucking woman to you, private?”

“Sir, I promise she’s-“

Soap threw him against the wall and he hit his head, tumbling to the floor.

The other man who was with him immediately went to help him up, finding that his friend was bleeding from the head.

“Hey! You can’t just-“

“Oh, but I can.”

The man scowled at Soap but didn’t give a reply.

“Man, woman, it doesn’t fucking matter when you’re out there on the field. But you remember the way you treated private (l/n) when you’re in a tight spot and need his help. You got that, you little cunts? Because he might not be so kind as to forgive this little incident. I know I fuckin’ wouldn’t.”

The men scurried off as soon as Soap finished lecturing them.

“Thank you, sergeant.”

“Come on, I need a drink.”

__________

The two of you were in his room.

He had poured you both two glasses of whiskey, to which you drank yours slowly and he downed his in one go. His glass was filled and he had a chance to speak his mind.

“I’ll be honest, (l/n). I can’t say I quite understand what you’ve been through or what you’ve done. But I know that no one should be treated like that. Especially when you have to count on each other as soon as you’re out there fighting.”

You stared down at your glass, seeing your reflection in the brown liquid and frowning. You just wanted to be respected and seen as the man you knew you were.

And it hurt knowing that half the base knew you weren’t born one.

“I can’t change who I am. I’ve been wishing for that almost all my life. I just couldn’t be happy with the person I was pretending to be so.. I started hormones and I got the surgeries. But it seems like a waste now.”

“Doesn’t look like a waste to me. I see a man, through and through. But..”

You looked back at him when he said the last word and became worried about what he would say.

“…Do the doctors just get someone else’s cock and stick it on to you or what?”

You nearly choked on the whiskey but you quickly recovered to burst out laughing.

And Soap was chuckling too.

“No- no, uh, it’s a long procedure and it takes a few of them to make it look even remotely real but uh.. no recycled penises.” You had to stifle your laughter to even explain to him what the surgeons did for you.

“So.. it works then?”

“I’d say it works very well, sergeant. Thank you for asking.”

“Hey I just had to make sure, alright? I’m new to this sort of thing.”

The two of you laughed and talked for more than an hour. Filling yourselves up on the whiskey until the bottle was completely empty. You talked about your life and transition journey and he talked about Task 141, all the things he’s seen and been through.

But as you got drunker, the topics would become less.. professional.

“So, sorry to be on the subject of your willy again but..”

“You want to see it?”

“Is that gay if I kinda do?”

“We both have socks on so I think we’re safe.”

The two of you laughed some more and you stood up from your seat, unzipping your pants and showing what you got.

“…”

“…”

“You must be pretty popular with the ladies at home then.”

You blushed and quickly put yourself away, fixing your pants and clearing your throat.

“Uh yeah, best thing about phalloplasty is that you can choose your size. Heh.”

“You wanna see mine?”

Now that caught you off guard. You had to stop your jaw from hitting the floor so you gave a casual ‘sure’ to your sergeant.

You had to play it cool or he would get a whiff of your wiles.

Not only were you a trans man, but you were incredibly gay.

John set his glass down on the table but didn’t get up from his seat. His hand unzipped his pants and he let out his half hard cock, which was quite the delectable size. 7 inches and you knew he could get bigger with some help from you..

Wait. He was hard?

You bit your lip, your hand gripping your pocket harshly. You couldn’t let yourself get aroused too.

“Come here, private. I won’t bite.”

“Sir..?” You let out a shaky breath. Maybe the whiskey did a little more than you thought. “I..”

“I believe I gave you an order just now,

didn’t I, lad?

Now that made you horny.

You felt your lower parts tingling when you walked up to him.

“Unzip yourself again.”

Your breathing quickened as you did as you were told, pulling out your cock again and taking a seat in his lap.

“I think you’ll do well with us, private. You’re good at following commands.” He mumbled in your ear and you could smell the harsh alcohol on his breath as he spoke.

“Sir-“

You were cut off quickly when you felt his hand on your dick.

You gasped as he started stroking it and you quickly covered your mouth.

“Don’t. I want to hear you.” He said, his free hand coming up to hold yours away from your lips.

Which reminded him..

His lips leaned in to touch yours and you moaned slightly, quickly accepting his tongue that prodded your bottom lip.

The two of you kissed passionately as his hand kept stroking your dick. You felt a bit more braver and took hold of his too.

He grunted against your mouth when your fingers wrapped around his length and jerked him off as well.

He pulled away from the kiss to messily suck on your neck. You were already moaning and squirming a little in his lap with all the attention you were getting from him.

“Hhnn, John.. please.”

“Please what?”

“…Please fuck me.”

Soap leaned away from your throat to give you another kiss, taking your hand off his cock and holding you from your ass soon after.

Then he stood up to go to the desk and lay you on top of it. But not before he took off your shirt.

Your top surgery scars were healed but still a bit prominent. Usually you used makeup to cover them but had forgotten this time.

You covered your chest and looked away.

“Show me.”

You looked at John with a worried look, and found acceptance in his.

There was no reason to hide from him.

You took away your arms and trembled when Soap leaned down to kiss your scars.

The tears welled up in your eyes and you tried not to cry.

Then jolted a little when you felt his lips wrap around your nipple.

And gave it a few sucks.

You moaned and arched your back into his mouth, whining out his name.

He smirked and pulled away as you breathed heavily, staring at him as he took off his shirt and pulled his pants down to his feet. His cock was 8.5 inches now and very thick.

You were practically drooling at the sight.

John spit in his hand and stroked his dick to lube himself. He also made you suck on his fingers to coat them, since you’d need a bit of prep yourself.

He felt it was good enough and took his fingers out and brought them down to your ass.

He stuck one in and your breathing hitched. You felt it moving in and out for a minute before feeling the other.

Your hand travelled down to stroke your cock, moving your head from side to side quickly as the pleasure was building up. It felt so good and you knew you would be getting close.

But then you felt empty all of a sudden.

You quickly looked at John and whimpered, who could only laugh.

“It’s alright, I figured you’d want something else about now..”

You felt the head of his cock at your entrance and gasped as he pushed in.

It hurt, he was bigger than what you were used to so you had to bite your fist.

“I’m almost all in.. just hold on for me, lad.” John shuddered as he kept burying his cock deeper inside you until you were fully bottomed out.

“Fuck..” He groaned, and started thrusting into you slowly.

“Mmhh, John.. it’s too big..!” You moaned against your hand, suddenly feeling embarrassed that you couldn’t handle it.

“I know you can take it, pretty boy. Don’t give up yet.”

You whined like a puppy, but you didn’t want to disappoint John, and it was actually starting to feel better.

But you were going to be so sore tomorrow.

Soap’s pace was getting faster now and he held your legs, moving them up to go over his broad shoulders.

You looked so submissive underneath him.

It turned him on.

It encouraged the Scottish man to keep pounding into your ass. You could only moan with every bounce against his dick and scratch against the wood of the desk.

The way your heat clenched around him was getting to be too much.

John pulled his cock out and spurted cum all over your stomach.

You came on yourself as well, soon after the other man did.

John stared down at you, panting with beads of sweat going down his chest and forehead.

That was the hardest he’s cum in a while.

He gave you a few minutes to catch your breath and then helped you clean up.

“Same time tomorrow?”

“Yes, sir.”

_________

I’d like to apologize for that transphobia in the beginning of the fic. It’s quite heavy and I don’t want to hurt anyone so I am very sorry if I did so.

At least our sweet John is here to comfort. <3

[divinegrey]

bandages / ekko x gn!reader

headcanons are pretty fun to write ngl

arcane masterlist

prompt: Good morning! Can we have Ekko x reader headcanons for when reader gets injured pretty badly on a mission but tries to hide it from him because they don’t want him to worry? Thanks!

warnings: violence, followed by comfort and fluff

Ekko patching you up:

at this time, you'd been with the firelights for a little while. you're one of their best agents, specifically a flyer that has a thing for going as fast as possible, even if it lands you in hot water.

it was like any other mission. get in, find shimmer stockpiles, get out.

only, you'd underestimated the level of security and ending up taking a beating. you got hit pretty bad but were able to get out with the information and get on your hoverboard to jet away back to the hideout.

you weren't really in the mood to be teased by Scar for having your ass handed to you, because as much as you love that scrawny motherfucker, he can go a little too far without knowing the boundaries.

you managed to make it back in one piece, gripping your hoverboard in one hand and the information in another.

Ekko is the one who found you first and immediately you put on your best brave face, keeping your mask on as you hand off the information.

"Are you okay, Y/N?"

"I'm fine. I'm okay."

he was suspicious but he let you off the hook.

nobody really thought anything of it until you missed dinner completely. firelights have a custom of taking dinner together, as a celebration of community. Ekko noticed you missing immediately and went to go look for you.

he found you in the corner of a room in the treehouse huddled up on the floor, almost on the verge of throwing up.

"Holy shit, Y/N, you're not okay."

without question, he picked you up and took you to his floor of the treehouse and sat you down on a couch. he fussed over you until you took off your thick jacket and showed all the bruises inflicted from Silco's men.

"why did you hide this from me?" he sounded so hurt and concerned that you started crying. you didn't want him to be worried, you knew how much he cared for his people and the stress he's under.

"I'm okay, i just need to heal," you tried, but Ekko wasn't having any of it. he made you sit there until he rubbed a healing salve onto all of the bruises on your skin and wrapped bandages on them. his touch was gentle and you felt genuinely cared for.

"please, don't do something that again," ekko said. "we need you here, you're important."

the way he held your hand made your heart beat harder in your chest. when you squeezed his palm, he squeezed back, and you knew he meant it.

[1987vampire]

Proxies x reader NSFW HCs

alot of these scenes will actually most likely end up in this story im writing lmao, so stick around if you want to see them fleshed out

Let's get the obvious beginner out of the way.

Toby is a tits man, Brian likes ass, and Tim is happy with whatever (he likes tits more he just doesn't want to be rude)

Now, let's start with Toby

Toby is the most submissive bottom you will meet in your life.

Has slipped a bit too far into subspace a few times, and you've had to stop immediately once you realized.

Motherfucker just wants to be dommed and dommed hard. Just tell him what to do, please.

Has the biggest fucking mommy kink (which contributes to his love for tits because the motherfucker will lavish those bitches like no other when given the chance)

Also has the biggest praise kink you will ever see. Has came embarrassingly fast because you called him your good boy.

99 percent of his knowledge of sex comes from porn so,, he's going to have to be retaught most everything.

Has definitely groped your tit too hard on multiple occasions because he thought it was the right thing to do.

Surprisingly good learner, though. Just wants to make you happy.

He's the best one for quickies out of all of them only because he cums extremely fast while still prioritizing you.

(He makes up for how fast he cums by how many times he can do it. Motherfucker will paint you white all over before his body gives out. Plus, his CIPA makes it to where he can't feel the burning in his legs as he fucks you for hours. Has literally kept going until his body gave out because you wanted him to.)

All the boys have very specific thoughts on oral. Toby will give or receive, whichever makes you happier, but when he's allowed to go down on you, it's like you're his last meal.

It's one of the only time's he'll disobey your commands because it doesn't matter if you've already came three times??? He's still eating, lady, shhh.

Tried to dom one (1) time. Not doing that again. Dude started crying half-way through because he thought he was hurting you and your feelings by ordering you around.

You had to pause and take a bath with him afterwards while he calmed down. He spent half the bath blubbering into your neck and apologizing more times than you could count.

Now, Brian is the exact opposite of Toby.

You asked to try and let him be the bottom a single time and he fucked you so hard you couldn't walk the next day.

A little shithead who loves blowjobs. Will give you head, but much prefers you on your knees with him stuffed so far in that he’s tapping the back of your throat and you’re gripping his thighs while he uses you for nothing more than his pleasure in the moment. 

Will mix degradation in with praise like he's been doing it his entire life. Has given you whiplash multiple times because of it.

He's so loud, too. Toby is whiny and begs, but this dude is in your ear with low grunts and groans, his voice spilling the foulest words he can think of.

Has you seeing stars while mumbling into your neck shit like "your pretty little pussy's taking me so well - like you were built to be my cocksleeve. Just a cumslut who takes whatever I give you. Look at you, all fucked out of your mind, pretty little baby. Can't wait to paint your fuckin' insides. It's what whores like you deserve."

He's also the best at aftercare, though. You normally have to take care of Toby after, and Tim does jack shit unless needed.

Brian, though, has his dresser packed with shit to take care of you with after. Will bathe you, dress you, tell you little reassurances, make sure you're okay.

He's also best at knowing when to stop. He can sense your hesitation as if he's the one feeling it.

Because of his dirty mouth, he's had to break off sessions early a few times. The biggest was when you started crying halfway through him fucking you missionary, and not the kind of crying he liked (because let's be real, this motherfucker loves to see you cry and beg to cum.)

He had called you a whore a few too many times through the session, and you had taken it a bit too close to heart (it was something that hit a bit harder than needed since you were dating multiple men at once.)

He spent the whole night cuddling you and reassuring you that he didn't really mean it. He loved you, they all did, it was just for the roleplay. "Stop crying, pretty baby, we're okay. I'm not actually mad. Let me see a smile, c'mon, doll."

Also, let me mention that because y'all are so fucking loud, Tim has banged on the door quite a few times trying to get you to calm down.

Tim made the mistake of grumbling to himself during dinner one time in front of you and Brian that 'you're so fucking loud it sounds like you're recording a goddamn porno in there.'

If you hadn't been choking on your food so hard, you might have noticed the sly grin that crossed Brian's face, though it was brought back later when he ended up filming you quite a few times from that night. It wouldn't be posted anywhere - fuck that, you were theirs, and no one else's.

(he did accidentally share a video of you cumming to the group chat all four of you were in on accident while sending cute pictures of the two of you. The mortification of hearing your moans come through the speaker of Toby's phone while he stared at it dumbfounded was enough for you to not talk to Brian for a whole week. It didn't matter if they had seen you like that before, it was still embarrassing!)

(Brian didn't tell you that the other two - Tim especially - had been sent worse videos than that.)

SPEAKING OF TIM.

Let's get started with this man. Tim is the laziest motherfucker known to man but it is nice. 

Really, he’s not lazy, he’s just tired a lot, and he doesn’t want to put the effort in the fuck you senseless when you’ve got two others for that. 

He prefers sleepy fucking where you’re both half-out-of-it and breathless. He enjoys both of you on your sides with him spooning you, his hips moving just enough to give enough friction for the both of you to cum after a while. You can and will fall alseep right after with him still buried inside of you.

Speaking of, what’s the best way to get y’all’s sexual tension out while still being lazy (besides just making you ride him which he does very often) ? Cockwarming. 

He won’t even just do it in bed when it’s the two of you. He’s shimmied his pants down just enough for his cock to slip out and pushed your panties aside (since you were only wearing an oversized shirt and underwear. I mean, what did you think would happen?) and made you sit on him in the middle of the living room while the other two were lounging around, too distracted to notice. 

However, if someone does notice (Especially in the beginning because you were horrible at hiding your flushed cheeks and heavy breathing from understimulation) he would not hide it.

“H-hey, y/-y/n, what’s-sss-s with the f-fa-face?” Toby had asked innocently one night while you were all watching TV together. You knew Tim was smirking behind you as he lifted the hem of the big shirt just enough to let Toby know what was going on. Boy blushed so hard and covered his eyes, smacking his face harshly in the process, and Tim and Brian snickered (because of course Brian already knew.)

Cockwarming also means that the second you finally - finally - start fucking, it’s over for the two of you in less than a minute, your fingers clawing at him as you finally get your release after hours. (the longest he’s made the two of you wait was four hours because we’re watching Toby’s favorite movies, we can’t interrupt him, now can we, darlin’?’

He’s also a huge fan of facesitting. Not the biggest fan of receiving blowjobs only because it makes him feel too vulnerable, but he could have you sit on his face for hours and not complain, his hands gripping your ass tight enough to leave bruises as he laved his tongue over your clit over and over. 

The only - only - times Tim has fucked you rough was when it wasn’t even really him. You had been half-asleep with your back to him one time as he rutted into you slowly when you suddenly felt yourself flipped so you were ass up with your face being pushed into the mattress, his hips jutting at a speed you didn’t know he could reach.

You didn’t even have to look back to know that Masky - his alter that didn’t show himself too often around you - had taken over. 

During getting fucked that time by Masky, you ended up so deep in subspace, trying to please the man you didn’t get too see that often that you let him him rip orgasm after orgasm from you until you couldn’t think straight and you entered a space where all you felt was pleasure, and you couldn’t even see straight.

You were brought out of it by Tim pressing a cold rag to your forehead, whispering sweet nothings to you as he tried to get you to come to, apologizing profusely for letting it happen. You had just grinned and - though your voice was thoroughly fucked up from screaming - told him to let Masky know he could do that again any time. Tim had gotten so flustered that he walked out of the room for a few minutes. 

Speaking of alters real quick.

Tim and Brian are the only ones to have them - Masky and Hoody respectfully, of course - and they come out around you very little. Hoody comes out more than Masky though, and you can tell the difference in how quiet Brian will get. 

Hoody and Masky have fucked you both separately and together (so have Tim and Brian but we’ll get to that in a second)

Masky loves you ass and prefers to have you in doggystyle over anything while Brian’s love for blowjobs is only intensified in his alter who will have you gagging on him until you almost pass out. He’ll give you a moment to breathe in just a second, just hold on a little longer, okay?

Hoody is almost always silent besides grunts that let him communicate with Masky. This is apparent even when you’re not fucking, and the three of you have to teach yourselves how to decipher the man’s made up language. 

Masky is quiet too, but will grumble to himself more than anything, calling you the worst name’s he can think of while he slams into you so hard that you don’t even have to move yourself to give Hoody a proper blowjob, his grip on your hips and force of his thrusts are enough to have you bouncing back and forth quickly. 

It’s not like you could really move anyways, not when Masky’s picking you up by your thighs and holding your hips up as he plows into you.

They love spitroasting but have definitely done double penetration even if you complain that you’re not prepped. Who cares? You’re obviously ready for it, look at you already cumming even though they haven’t moved. 

Now, as for threesomes and or foursomes

Nine times out of ten, Toby is too embarrassed to do anything in front of the other two. Maybe if you coax him enough, reassure him that nobody will judge, he might join in for the night, but it’s an incredibly rare occurrence. Watching Brian boss you around is enough to make him squirm. You were supposed to be in change, not him? But there you were with your tongue sticking out as you rolled your hips against Tim, ready to fit either of them in your mouth. The other can always take another hole. 

Toby not wanting to join doesn’t really both the other two though, and though it’s still not as common to have a threesome compared to one on one, Tim and Brian are always ready to share. Especially when you look so pretty whining into the air as you take both of them at once. 

You don’t mind if Brian takes a few photos, right? I mean, just look at you! This is a perfect moment to capture. Ignore the fact that you’re now Tim’s home screen, your pretty tits out in the open as his cock is buried inside of you, Brian’s hand gripping the flesh of your hip. Why wouldn’t he want to see it all the time?

The same applies to them as their alters. Spitroasting is their absolute favorite, though Tim prefers it if you ride him while you slobber all over Brian instead of him having to use his energy to fuck you into oblivion. 

They love double penetration as well, but once they tried to fit both of them in your pussy instead of one in your ass and you came so hard that you passed out. It’s brought out on special occasions after a l o t of prep.

really, overall. you have a boy for whatever mood you're in and you're literally never horny because the second you mention it someone is on top of you.

[painsandconfusion]

How Long Has It Been?

Febuwhump Tenth

(tw: very very very very very very very bad caretaking, language, domestic violence referenced, strangulation, manhandling, kidnapping, caretaker turned whumper, maybe masochistic whumpee (its not but same triggers apply), degradation, gaslighting)

.

Caretaker stared, barely leaning around the doorway as Whumpee trailed their fingertips across their own throat, staring into the mirror.

Whumpee jolted as Caretaker stepped into sight. “You’re seeing them again”

Whumpee spun, facing them with wide eyes. They let their turtleneck snap back into its place, covering the flashes of black, green, and yellow.

“Who?” They said. It was innocent enough. Their face was wide and open. Their eyes seemed genuine; but their fingertips twisted in and out of the hem of their shirt, fidgeting.

As if Caretaker hadn’t already seen the bruises.

An old, but familiar, rage bloomed deep in their chest. The embers that had long cooled danced back up to burning. “Dont play stupid,” they spat. “How long has it been?”

Whumpee gave them a small, shaky smile. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Caretaker stepped closer. The flames bloomed in them, making their blood race hotter and faster.

The motherfucker. His hands. On them.

They’d thought this was over. They thought they had taken care of this.

But no.

No of course not.

Of course Whumpee had to be be so fucking pathetic and stupid that they ran back. Again.

They ground their teeth, stepping closer again. They were almost vibrating. They struggled to keep the words soft. “Don’t you dare lie to me, Whumpee. Don’t you fucking dare.”

Whumpee faltered, opening and closing their mouth several times. They took a shaky step back.

Oh, how Whumpee was acting scared. Scared of them. So fucking manipulative. As if any of this were their fault. As if it were their handprints on Whumpee’s neck. As if they’d ever laid a finger on the little freak.

The words spat from their mouth like venom. “Don’t do that - you can’t just cry and think I’m going to forget this happened.”

Whumpee quickly scrubbed away a falling tear with shaking fingers. They looked down at the ground, twitchy, then started to push past Caretaker toward the door. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking ab- Aahk!” They squealed as Caretaker’s fingers bit into their arm, spinning and slamming them against the wall.

They ground their fingers into Whumpee’s shoulders, clamping down as Whumpee tried to squirm away.

“Pl-nngh! P-please! Caretaker - youu- you’re hurting me!”

Caretaker’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, and that’s suddenly such a huge fucking problem to you? I was starting to think you just liked getting hurt.”

“Caretaker ple-” Whumpee’s words cut short as Caretaker’s palm cracked across their cheek. They swayed to the side, but Caretaker’s grip kept them in place.

They stared up at Caretaker, eyes wide.

Caretaker leaned closer. “I think maybe that’s it. You’re just some sick little masochist. You get off on it.”

Whumpee snapped back from the shock, clawing afresh. “No- no please, Caretaker - let me go! Let me GO!”

They were kicking now. Great.

“Would you - fuck - would you just calm down for a second?” They were so squirmy. So wriggly in Caretaker’s hands.

“Wh-wha-what are you doing?!?!? Let me go! Le-let me go!”

“What? So you can go back there? Get beaten to a pulp again?”

They clawed and fought, but Caretaker pinned them in place.

“N-no! No you don’t underst- let go of me!”

But they were still fucking fighting.

Caretaker wrapped a hand around Whumpee’s throat and watched as their resistance immediately died. Their little fingers wrapped around Caretaker’s wrist, stilling the rest of their actions.

Caretaker slid their thumb up, looping it under the soft fabric. Whumpee squirmed back slightly as Caretaker pulled the cloth down, but they didn’t fight it. They just squeezed their eyes shut.

Caretaker’s heart was beating faster by the second. They let their hands fall into place over Whumper’s handprints. Skin to skin. They could feel Whumpee’s pulse fluttering under their fingertips. They were excited too. Caretaker didn’t know why that pissed them off so much. Their lip curled as they stared at the bruising under their fingers. So many colors.

Their voice was quieter than they expected. “These are overlapping. How long have you been lying to me??”

Whumpee started struggling afresh, nails digging into Caretaker’s skin. “P-pleas…please C-caart- L-l-l-le’ggo-”

They were squeezing. Caretaker hadn’t realized they were squeezing.

They gripped harder, digging their nails into Whumpee’s hammering pulse.

“Why? So you can go back there? To them? Get beaten to a bloody pulp again!?”

Whumpee didn’t respond, they just choked under Caretaker’s grip. It was an oddly nice sound. Desperate. Gentle. Soft. It vibrated across their fingertips.

They knew they weren’t the first. Not the first to hold this throat. Not the first to hear those sounds. Whumper had been here. And they’d be back. Whumpee would never know peace if they were left to their own devices.

Whumpee grew heavy, legs buckling under them. Their eyes lost focus, tears falling as an afterthought.

Caretaker let go, letting them slump to the ground, choking on clods of air. They were Wheezing at Caretaker’s feet.

This little thing was too weak and pathetic to be left alone.

Caretaker had to do everything. Every fucking time.

Fine.

They gripped Whumpee by the elbow, jerking to their feet and dragging them out the door. Whumpee barely stumbled behind them as they strode down the hallway toward the basement.

Their voice was hoarse. Raspy. “W-hat are you - you doing-?”

Caretaker set their eyes ahead, locking on the door. “If you want to bleed so bad, you don’t have to leave the house to do it.”

“Wai…what?”

Whumpee started thrashing afresh as Caretaker opened the basement door.

“Wha- no! No no no! No le-let me go!”

Caretaker jerked them toward the door. “Sto- would you stop fighting me!?”

Whumpee clawed at their fingers, but Caretaker wouldn’t let go. “You..you can’t jus-”

“Oh yes I can. No one else gets to touch you. Got it?”

Caretaker twisted their arm, craning them toward the steps.

Caretaker slammed the door shut on them, listening to their body tumbling down as they locked the door.

.

Thanks @febuwhump for putting together this event!!!

(tags: @prisonerwhump @whumpawink @mabledonut @paleassprince @distinctlywhumpthing @tropes-for-my-md-daydreams @batfacedliar-yetagain @suspicious-whumping-egg @wormwriting @jadeocean46910 @villainsvictim @thecitythatdoesntsleep @heathenwhump @cryptidhongo @rainbows-and-whumperflies @bookish-anon @whumpy-catfish @whumpworld )

lmk if you want to be added or removed from any tag lists!

[thought-42]

On Monday @humanbeanisnotamused and I were talking about Quay's habit of casting things on Laerryn by touch that he would otherwise cast verbally. And then @stoppit-keepout said the phrase "Loquatius's mathematically perfect eyebrows" and my brain went on a journey. Anyway this happened, set in @humanbeanisnotamused Adventurer au.

It's Quay's fault.

They've been working their way through this cave network for hours, following the faint sound of running water and the taste of magic, something sharp like the ozone of lightning but not. Evandrin and Zerxus have escalated to straight up reciting poetry at each other while they walk, and Cerrit keeps vanishing to scout ahead for longer and longer periods of time. Which leaves Laerryn and Nydas as the audience and judges for Quay's pseudo fashion show, pseudo nightmare fuel.

His face shifts again, eyebrows darkening, cheekbones sharpening, and there's something different about the way his ears line up with his jaw but she can't put her finger on what it is.

"Still too perfect," Nydas says. "You look like a hyper realistic statue. People would be terrified every time you moved."

"Speak for yourself," says Laerryn, who thinks a moving statue would be fucking great, actually. She makes a mental note.

"Sometimes that could be useful," says Quay. "For hiding." His face changes again. His lashes are very long, his eyes big and liquid, his teeth stunningly white. The hand he lifts to brush hair out of his face is long and narrow, veins showing through the skin of his wrist. His hair, when it catches the light of their everglows, makes her think of violets. He still has her fucking eyes.

She's not staring.

She's not.

She just. Wasn't expecting the floor to drop off to her left where there had, up until now, been a wall. She steps down into empty air and the world lurches, her pack yanks her sideways so up and down seem impossible, and then a second of weightlessness before the jarring impact all down her side.

"Motherfucker," she says, and then, immediately, "I'm fine!"

Four lights bob a good twenty feet above her in the darkness. She puts down her hands to push herself up and it lands in an inch of standing water. She recoils and almost slides even further onto her back. The familiar faint, damp sort of burn tells her her elbows and palms are scraped raw, and her hipbone protests harshly when she tries getting up again.

"Give me a second," she shouts up.

"Are you hurt?" Zerxus calls, at the same time Evandrin says

"Did you just. Fall in a hole."

"I will telekinesis your ass down here so fast, Alterra," she warns. "It's wet. There's slime."

"A week ago you loved slime," Nydas says, uncertainly.

"That was interesting slime. This is just bad and gross."

She braces her stinging palms against the wall and forces herself to her feet. The wall squishes. Her heart beats loud in her ears but nothing hurts. Her leg threatens to give out from under her, her kneecap shifting more than it should. She used to be better at bouncing back up.

"Are you hurt?" Zerxus calls, again.

"Nah," she says. "Just bruises. And my pride, obviously."

"I can help with the bruises before you come up," Nydas says. "Pretty sure your pride is invulnerable. Hang on, I need to be able to see you."

"No," Quay says.

"Huh?"

"I've got her."

"You already wasted a bunch of magic this morning because of Dare or Dare," Nydas reminds him kindly. "Better save some."

"I said I have her," Quay says, and even down twenty feet in gross cave water she can smell flowers.

"As you like," says Nydas, and then Zerxus says

"Wait, what are you--"

"I hate my life," says Evandrin. "Laerryn, you're getting company."

She looks up and sees a flash of purple hair over the edge of the drop, then there's the faint scuffle of movement, a brief shower of pebbles.

"Don't come down here," she says. "It's gross." she goes to stand under where he's descending, just in case, and her knee clicks.

"Prestidigitation," he says, brightly. Laerryn has regrets.

He makes it down the wall with surprising grace. He pauses before he turns to face her, and she realises he's probably shifting whatever adaptation he made to his hands and feet back to something more standard.

"You don't have to," she says, but doesn't know how to finish the sentence.

He turns around and her own eyes flare at her through the darkness. For once, he isn't smiling.

"Where are you hurt?" he asks.

"I wasn't lying when I said it's just bruises," she says, holding up her scraped palms as demonstration. He steps in too close, brushes fingertips so lightly over her hands she can barely feel them. Shimmering contrails of purple magic linger in the wake of his touch, leaving unblemished skin when they fade. His gaze sweeps over her, deliberate and considering. It’s the same way he looks at crossword puzzles and butterflies and people who lie for no reason.

And then he folds down to his knees, water soaking his trousers, and wraps a hand firmly around her knee.

"Hey," she says, too many words leaping to be verbalised and leaving her stuck.

"Shh," he says, absently. Reflexively, she goes to jerk away. The clicking returns. Quay also doesn't let go, so she winds up sort of flailing, off balance, and her freshly healed hand lands against the slime wall.

"Stop," he says, evenly. "Count to ten."

"Fuck you, I'm not a child."

He blinks up at her. His lashes are still very long. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"You--" the warmth of his magic is more evident when it rushes through her leg, wrenching her kneecap back into place with perhaps less gentleness than he intended, then trailing up her leg and side like creeping ivy, sinking warmth into her hip and her ribs.

"There," he says. "See? That wasn't so bad."

He is still on his knees in front of her. She wants to kick water in his face.

She wants to do other things to his face, too.

"You gonna be able to climb back up?" she asks instead.

He rolls to his feet. His clothes drip."Sure."

He is shamelessly lying.

[stayatiny]

The King ~Chapter Seven

(Gif made by me)

Pairing(s) King!Werewolf! Bang Chan x Human!Reader

Series Warning(s) – Swearing, Violence, Wolf Dynamics, Smut (in later chapters) and along with others that will be added later.

Chapter warning(s) – Swearing, Violence, biting/marking, blood/gore, oral (female receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it up kids!), virgin!reader

A/N - Finally to the good stuff. I have decided that there will be one more chapter of this series. Thank you everyone for the likes, follows, and the reblogs. I hope you enjoy. =^_^=

I head back to the bedroom to wake up Y/N, I open the door to see that she isn’t there. Her phone was on the nightstand charging. She must have forgot to charge it last night. I knock on the bathroom door. When I didn’t hear anything, I open the door to see nothing. I frown slightly.

I look over at her phone and checking the ground for her purse. When I didn’t see it, my heart began to race. She didn’t tell anyone if she as going anywhere and usually, she does. I picked up her phone it was still on the last person she messaged. My body froze in place as I saw who was messaging her. Eric Kim. I threw her phone onto the bed then running out of the room. I need to stop her before she gets hurt.

When I wake, there is a blindfold over my eyes and my wrists are bound.

“Oh, you’re awake Y/N. I was starting to think that I gave you too much,” Eric says taking off the blindfold. I try to bite at his hand as it passed by. He slaps the hell out of me. I groan as I glare at him.

“None of that now. Your King should be here to rescue you at any moment and when he does, I will complete my parents work.” I looked at him questioningly.

“What do you mean?” His smiles with sinister meaning. He turns to me and kneels before me. He places his hands on my thighs. I try to squirm away from him.

“Oh sweetie. Do you think your parents would kill their closes friends? My parents told them that if they didn’t want their little girl to die at the hands of a wolf or by me. They would do their bidding for my parents. I do have to admit, you are a strong one. I never actually thought that you would get close with the king again let alone get with him. I do feel sorry for you. He is nothing more than a player,” he explains still holding onto my legs.

“Why do you want them dead so badly?” Eric smiled moving his hands to my waist.

“Because if they were all dead my family would have been chosen to rule the kingdom and then I would have made you, my wife. But your parents wanted you to be Chris’ bride. I could have given you everything your little heart desired,” he says then leaning up kissing me hard. I immediately bit his bottom lip.

“How did you know that I like biting?” He smiles touching his lip blood running down his fingers.

“Don’t worry I’ll be sure to mark you when I know that your little boyfriend is dead. You’ll be mine.” Eric leans down again trying to kiss me.

“You motherfucker!” I tried kicking him, but he grabbed my legs to keep me from trying again. He punches me knocking me over onto my side. I landed hard on my shoulder and arm. I growl trying to kick him again. He stomped and kicked my ribs and legs.

“If you do that again, I’ll fucking kill you.” He steps on my head putting light pressure. I growl again as he lets go of my head. He punched my face one last time then heading out the door locking it. So, fuck him. I struggle with the binds when I hear yelling a screaming upstairs. I was able to move my arms from behind my back to the front. I tried to gnaw at the rope with my teeth but jumped when I see Jay open the door. I nearly start to cry.

“Y/N, we need to get you out of here,” he says helping me up. He cut the ropes with a knife from his pocket. The screaming got louder as we got close to the stairs.

“What’s going on?” Jay grabbed my hands pulling me up the stairs. I turned to look. I see Chris in his wolf form. He’s tearing others limb from limb. My body began to shake. Felix covered my eyes turning me away from the scene of blood.

“No don’t look Y/N.” Jay pulls me along the hallway the smell of blood overwhelming. He uncovers my eyes and pushes me between a table and a vase that could conceal me. I hear yelling up ahead of us calling for Jay.

“Damn it. Stay here. I have to go help some of the others really quick. I’ll be back for you,” he says putting his jacket over my shoulders. I shake my head.

“N-no don’t leave me, Jay. Please.” I beg. Jay hugs me tightly and kisses my head. He places his jacket around my shoulders, seeing that my t-shirt is hanging on by threads.

“You’ll be okay. Just stay here.” He ran off shedding his human form. I slumped against the wall waiting for the others to come back for me. Its only been a few minutes but I decided to get up and find one of the guys. It’s too dangerous to be here alone. But I made a mistake.

“What are you doing here?” That voice. Eric came around the corner and grabbed my arms. I whine my body starting to feel sore from the drugs he had given me and falling over on my shoulder. I hear a howl from down the hall. It was the loudest one I’ve ever heard. I turn and see the black wolf with bright blue eyes. Eric put a knife to my throat staring at the wolf.

“Chris, come any closer to me and I’ll gut her like a fish.” He stood down but only a little bit. I tried to pull away from him but only for Eric to hold the knife tighter.

“Now turn back into your human form and let’s talk about this like men.” Chris stayed as a wolf. I gathered the strength and shoved the knife away from my neck. Before Eric could stab me, Chris jumped on him ripping him apart. I hide my face trying not to listen to the squelch of blood. I continued to hide my face even when I feel someone pick me up.

“Y/N, you can open your eyes now. Its over.” Chris’ voice soothing me. I wrap my arms around his neck, sobbing. He carries me out to the courtyard of the Kim Mansion. I finally look at Chris. His face stoic and eyes ready to kill.

“Your majesty? What do you want to do with the rest of the family,” Felix asked. Chris looked down at my bruised face, arms, and ribs.

“Kill them,” he says, no tone, no remorse. He carried me away and back to the castle. Chris placed me onto his bed.

“Let me see your face.” I slowly looked up at Chris. He kissed me slipping his tongue past my lips. I groan, wrapping my arms around his neck. He pulls away then back to kissing my neck. I tried to stop him from going further.

“Be mine?” I couldn’t even think straight, and I just agreed. I nodded my head.

“No, I need you to say it,” he said, tearing off what’s left of my shirt.

“Mark me, please.” He wasted no time digging his teeth into my neck. He presses me down into the bed while I moan loudly. I grab at Chris’ shirt pulling it over his head. He leans up staring at my body. He tears off my bra leaving my chest bare. I blush a bright red and try to cover my body.

“No don’t. You’re fucking beautiful. I want you to be mine and no one else. I love you. I’ve always been in love with you.” I grab his face kissing him pushing my tongue into his mouth. He groans this time. I needed him now. My core throbbing at the thought of his cock inside me.

“Lay down, Y/N. I need to taste you.” I do as I’m told then he pulls down my pants with my underwear with it. I tried to cover my core from his stare, but he smacks my hands away.

“You’re beautiful.” He smiles then sucking my clit I between his lips. I moan almost screaming. His tongue started to flick my bud rapidly. I put my hands into his hair slightly tugging. That’s when his finger started to slip into my wet hole. I gasp grabbing his hair tighter.

“Chris, I need to cum, please.” He pulls his mouth away from my core. I let out a whine.

“No not yet.” Chris gets off the bed. He unbuckles his pants slipping them off. I lick my lips as his cock bounces up hitting his belly.

“Like what you see?” I blush again looking away. Chris chuckles climbing back onto the bed. He leans down kissing me once again as he pulls my legs around his waist. He rubs his cock through my folds before I stopped him.

“What’s wrong?” I lay there to embarrassed to say anything again.

“What is it,” he then gets what I wanted to tell him, “We don’t have to do anything. I don’t want to pressure you into this.” I shook my head.

“No I want this. Please I want you.” He nods as he then slid his cock slowly into me. I groaned at the stretch and the feeling of being full.

“Ah fuck. You’re so tight,” he groans. He stays still letting me get use to his size. I nod letting him know that he could move. He almost pulls out all the way before driving back into me. I moan grabbing his sides. He pins my legs back watching his cock disappear inside of me. Chris drives even harder into as I moan his name.

“Please Chris, I need to cum,” I beg. He smirks pounding me even harder. His hand reaches down rubbing circles around my clit making the knot in my stomach tighten.

“Cum baby. Cum on my cock,” he growls. I scream out as I let go and cum. He stills inside of me letting his cum fill me. He collapses on me and remarks my neck with him still inside me. Chris leans up, pulling out of me. I feel him running down my legs. That’s when it hits him.

“Please tell me that you’re on the pill.” His eyes wide realizing what he did. I nod, body to weak to move. He let out a sigh of relief.

“Lets get you a hot bath,” Chris said, picking me up. He ran a bubble bath. He climbs into the tub with me.

“I love you,” he purs. I smile leaning my head onto his chest.

“I love you too.”

[shinsorokiri]

S/O Loses Memory and Quirk

Todoroki, Bakugou, and Kirishima HCs

Genre: Angst

Warnings: Language, violence, mentions of stab wounds and blood, a panic attack, spoiler for Bakugou’s hero name, sad bois

A/N: So I had two requests that mentioned these three with this concept and I just finished all of them and I’m so proud that I wanted to post these ones before the other two for Denki and All Might were finished but I’ll get those out as soon as possible. I cried writing Bakugou’s, so... there’s that HAHA please enjoy!

Here’s the first one with Shinsou, Aizawa, Hawks, and Dabi!

Todoroki Shouto | Shouto

Shouto knows you’re a strong woman and that he doesn’t need to constantly be there to protect you

But he does prefer to be there if something bad is happening 

The only problem is that you two went to two different agencies after graduating 

And in doing so were on opposite sides of the city

Now he always knew when something was happening on your hero route because I mean

He actually needs to in case something bad happens since it’s his JOB

But he also just really wants to be there for you if you really need it

There hasn’t been a time like that, though

So imagine his utter shock and genuine fear when that time came

He was told to go to where you were patrolling because you’d been attacked and wound up in the hospital 

You know the scene with the flame tear? Yeah that but times ten

He goes on patrol like a good little hero

But boy oh BOY did he just want to go to the hospital

You’d never lost a fight before

Not even against him

Your quirk was literally the most powerful quirk he’s ever seen and I mean like, yeah, sure, he might be biased but STILL you were really powerful

So what kind of villain could hurt you so bad you had to go to the hospital???

Luckily, he only had an hour left of patrolling 

And as soon as that hour was up

Mans bolted

He was OFF

He ran into that hospital 

And he politely asked where your room was

Because although he’s PANICKING he still is a little socially awkward sweetie and he doesn’t wanna be a dick to anyone and be labeled similar to his father no no NO

But as soon as he got the number he was sprinting man

He was so worried

All patrol he was quieter than usual

And he was ridiculously anxious the whole time

His palms were sweaty

He felt like he could throw up at any second

And right now

He thought his heart was about to beat out of his chest

He carefully opens the door

You might be sleeping, he has to be considerate

And sure enough he sees your unconscious form laying in a hospital bed

It looked like you had some broken bones, and multiple bruises and cuts which means someone must have beat the shit out of you

Lovely

That’s what he needed to see

Definitely 

Mans doesn’t show emotion that much

But when it comes to you and since it was just you and him in the room

He broke down crying

He couldn’t help it

He grabbed your hand

And just sat there crying

Poor guy can’t lose you

You were the best thing that ever happened to him 🥺

You showed him that it was okay to feel things and express those things and let people in

He let you in and he couldn’t let you go now

He was a genuine mess for the next couple of weeks

Because you weren’t waking up

He went against what Midoriya said and asked around about what happened to you

And what he heard was horrific

Apparently the villain snuck up on you

And hit you in a few different places

And then you fell down

And then you couldn’t access your quirk

And that’s why you were in the hospital 

He didn’t want to think about the part that happened after you were virtually defenseless

Around his friends he was spacier than usual

He wasn’t really retaining information

And his agency let him take more days off than usual because they knew he was Going Through It

And luckily on one of those days you woke up

He was next to you as per usual 

Holding your hand

Playing with your fingers like he always does when he gets anxious

He missed being able to do that in social situations 

Or when you two were cuddling at night and he was thinking about something that was stressing him out and he would start to fiddle with your hand and you would ask him what’s wrong

He missed you

So when he felt your hand start to move by itself

He basically gave himself whiplash with how fast he looked from your hand to your face

Sure enough

Your eyes were open

And you were looking at him

“(Y/n)…”

He whispered your name as not to scare you

You could have a concussion or mild amnesia

He has already considered everything that could be wrong with you

Because he overthinks a lot

And he was nervous about this

And there was one thing he had in the back of his mind

That would probably be the worst case scenario

And much to his fears

That was confirmed to be what was going on almost immediately

“Todoroki?”

He just stares for a moment

You hadn’t called him Todoroki since… well, a long time now

Probably back in your UA days

The two of you began dating in your second year though so

It’s been a while

“You look… older..?”

He clears his throat

Nodding

“Yes. Well… I am 20 years old now. I would hope I look older.”

“Wait, what?”

Oh shit.

He just confused you. 

Damnit, Shouto. 

“Uhh… well, um. You see…”

“Todoroki what is going on? And why are you holding my hand like that?”

He freezes

He was still playing with your fingers

And it wasn’t that you didn’t want him to

You were just genuinely confused

He knew that

“Before I say anything else that could be detrimental to your mental health, maybe you should ring your nurse.”

You do as he says

And the nurses and a doctor come rushing into your room

They do some evaluations

And sure enough

Your memory has been completely wiped

As has the access to the portion of your brain that allows you to control your quirk

The doctor explains to Todoroki that he’s unsure of how this happened

Bu Todoroki knows it has to be that villain

Whatever that villain did did this to you

And Todoroki isn’t one to show emotions

But boy oh BOY was he riled up right now

He lowkey accidentally caught something on fire

And then to fix it lowkey on purpose just turned it into a block of ice

Even though Endeavor is the worst man on the planet

Mans is persistent on shit that’s for sure

And that’s like

The only trait Shouto got from that literal dumpster fire of a father

And he wasn’t about to let the piece of shit that hurt you get away with it

Of course, when it comes to you as a person he’s very patient

Very understanding

Respects boundaries 

But he will not REST

Until the motherfucker who did this to you gets caught by him

And he will find them.

Bakugou Katsuki | DynaMight

OH BOY HERE WE GO

So Bakugou was already very protective over you

I mean that’s expected though

It’s

It’s literally Bakugou

So mans has tabs on you at all times

You don’t know how he does it tbh

He jokes

Yes, Bakugou can joke

He jokes about having a sixth sense when it comes to you

He just gets this feeling about you

If you’re sad? He knows

Happy? He knows

In danger? MANS KNOWS

And I guess he also has a GPS built into his brain???

He just

He knows

Probably because he cares extremely deeply about you

Like really fucking deeply

You’re the best thing that has ever happened to him

Ever since high school

First day

When you weren’t intimidated by him

There was just something special about you

And even though it took until after graduation and you almost DYING on a mission for him to finally accept that he can FEEL THINGS

He officially asked you to be his girlfriend

I say officially because, well

Y’all have basically been dating since like 

Second year of high school

Even though it wasn’t official

It was obvious

He was whipped

He still is

He’s known you for five years

You’ve been officially dating for two of those years

You were unofficially dating for four

You were the most important thing in his life

You even surpassed becoming the number one hero somehow

Though he will NEVER admit that

EVER

It took him a while to realize it 

But the thought of living without you?

Scared him more than any villain ever could

And that is why

Mans is all dressed up

Lookin nice

Took a day off of patrol at his agency because tonight is a special night

Of course, you don’t know anything

As it should be

He didn’t tell a soul that he was planning on proposing tonight

Okay… maybe that is a lie

He told Kirishima when he got blackout drunk with the boys one night

Long story, don’t ask how it happened, even the boys don’t know

And Kirishima then proceeded to tell everyone of his other friends 

So they all knew

But they also all knew to keep it a FUCKING SECRET unless they wanted blown up

But boy oh boy they were excited to see the pictures and the ring and the everything

But I digress

Bakugou is in the house the two of you purchased a while back

It was very much off the damn grid

For ~safety~ 

And he’s very much just messing with how he looks

He has to look perfect because he knows you’re about to 

And he can’t be proposing to you unless he’s on your level

When suddenly

He gets a

Feeling

But it isn’t the warm feeling he gets when you’re happy

Or the doopy one he gets when you’re sad

Or the wave of exhaustion he feels when you’re tired

Or the tingly feeling he gets when you’re mad

No

It’s the feeling where his spine tenses

And his blood goes cold

And his heart drops to the floor

The one he only felt one other time

The time you almost died

He was out of that house so fast

He didn’t even care if he looked all nice

You were in danger

He blasted his way through the city

Saying he was frantic is an understatement

He was FERAL

He got to where you were just in time to see you get slammed into the concrete by some piece of shit villain

You were unconscious

And you weren’t moving

He saw red

He didn’t even remember blasting over to the villain and punching them in the face

But he did that

And he did it HARD

Of course the villain was like OH FUCK

THIS IS THE NUMBER TWO HERO

I DIDN’T THINK HE’D ACTUALLY GET HERE THIS FAST

Because obviously the villain knew who you were

That’s why you were targeted 

Breaking Bakugou’s spirit is needed if villains want to become more fearful and powerful

The villain starts sprinting away

And before Bakugou can catch them

He hears an ambulance siren

He suddenly forgets all about the villain because he whips around to see you getting loaded onto a gurney

Paramedics are doing everything they can to keep you alive at this point

He’s horrified to say the least

You’re the love of his life

The last time he saw you like this is when he accepted it

Seeing you like this again just makes him realize it even deeper somehow

He runs to the ambulance

But the paramedics tell him he needs to go to the hospital separately because you’re badly injured and they need to perform some procedures on the way to the hospital to keep you alive

He doesn’t even realize he’s crying until his eyes start to sting

He wants to tell the paramedics to fuck off

Don’t they realize this is supposed to be one of the best days of yours and his lives?

But he can’t 

Because before he can

They’re gone

He chases after you though

He needs to be by your side right now

He needs to know that you will be okay

He needs you to be okay

So imagine how nerve-wracking it is for him to learn that you were in surgery

He waited in the waiting room all day long

This incident happened around one in the afternoon

and it was now one in the morning

He was just sitting in the hospital waiting room

Looking down at the little box in his hand

Crying

Which is a sight for anyone who sees him

The ring he bought for you is the only thing he can focus on

He doesn’t even notice the non-stop buzzing in his pocket coming from his and your friends wondering if the two of you are okay because the footage of the fight cut out right before Bakugou punched the villain

They all thought you were both hurt pretty badly

I mean after your quirk was seemingly taken from you…

The only thing that snaps him out of his trance

Is when the doctor comes out and says his name

His head snaps up so fast

He approaches the doctor just as fast

He knows he should expect the worst

But he can’t help but keep repeating that you’re okay

That everything will be fine because you are okay

They fixed you up

You’ll come home all happy

He’ll propose to you in the living room at this point

Today will be fixed

Instead

He hears that although you’re stable

You have what appears to be brain damage

“What kind of fucking brain damage?”

“She has severe amnesia which means that-”

“How severe?”

“Well… according to her brain scan and the fact that she said the year was two and a half years ago, I’m afraid it’s significantly severe.”

Two and a half years

Two and a half years?!

He just stares at the doctor

If you think it’s two and a half years ago

That means he hasn’t asked you out yet

That means in your mind

You’re still in high school

About to graduate

This cannot be happening

There is not way this is happening

“Can I see her?”

His voice sounds foreign to him

The doctor nods

Leading him to your room

He puts the ring back in his pocket out of instinct

And when he enters your room

He wants nothing more than for you to yell something like PSYCH

GOT YOU BLASTY BITCH

HAHAHA

But he’s just met with a your mouth opening wide and eye getting big

“Bakugou?! You’re so dressed up!”

Bakugou

Why didn’t he let you call him Katsuki sooner

Why didn’t he ask you out before two years ago

Why wasn’t he there to save you

“W-Woah… Bakugou, you don’t have to cry this isn’t my first hospital stay… wait, when did you get an undercut?”

He just walks towards you

“You also look… older… is this seriously what you look like when you clean up?”

He watches as your expression falters for a moment

“Wait… are you like… going on a date or something?”

Good to know you still have feelings for him at least

He just nods

And you try to hide the disappointment on your face

“Oh… well, you better tell me all about it when we get back to the dorms.”

Your fake enthusiasm is killing him

What killing him even more though is that the doctors didn’t tell you what was going on

So he’ll tell you instead

“Actually,”

Damnit

His voice is wavering

This is new for him

He clears his throat

“I’m not… I’m not going on a date anymore. I had one but… things didn’t turn out as planned.”

“Oh?”

He almost smiles at the sudden mood shift you had

How can you still be perky like that sitting in a hospital bed

“Yeah… because, um. It was a date with you…”

“…Oh…?”

“You got hurt pretty bad, angel…”

He explains everything to you

Well 

As much as he can

And he also finds out about your quirk

And how it’s just

Gone

You have to stay in the hospital tonight for further testing tomorrow

And you insist that he goes home

But he says it isn’t home if you’re not there

He stays in the chair right next to your bed

Watching you as you sleep

He knows you believe him

He knows that you have feeling for him

But he’s broken, truly

Not only was he not your hero today

He didn’t save you

He doesn’t know if you’ll ever remember any of those years with him

Any of your firsts

And that makes him ache

He pulls out your ring again

And just looks at it

The only light in the room is the moonlight peaking in through the window

And in that moment

He swears to himself

And to you

That the villain who did this

Is going to pay

Kirishima Eijirou | Red Riot

Eijirou has always been your rock

Figuratively and literally

He’s there for you through everything

And I mean everything

The two of you have been next door neighbors since you were kids

And he literally always had a crush on you

Of course the feelings were mutual

But neither you nor shark boy knew that

Until y’all got to high school

And Bakugou was very

Annoyed

About the two of you pining for each other

Mina was beyond annoyed 

She went to middle school with you two

So when Bakugou finally just

Screamed at the two of you to just shut the fuck up with the flirting and date already

Mina deadass jumped out of her seat at lunch and screamed thank you at the top of her lungs

Of course the two of you were as red as his hair

Which, yes

You did help him pick out the exact shade and helped dye as well

His hands were stained red because he accidentally only bought one pair of gloves and it wouldn’t have been manly to make you help without gloves on

But I digress

The two of you started dating shortly after that

And when I tell you that you were the couple everyone would look at and be all “awwwww”

I MEAN IT

And y’all are just in high school

Granted, it’s your final year and the two of you are both interning and are already confirmed to become sidekicks and Fatgum’s Agency

So y’all do be a little mature

But still

You started dating freshman year

And you’re going strong still

Of course

And words cannot describe how relieved he is that the two of you are at the same agency

Because if anything ever went bad he would be there to save you

And you would be there to save him

But literally nothing could prepare him for what was about to happen to you

It was a normal patrol

The two of you were together

Talking about graduation next week

And how the two of you were excited to move out of the dorms and into the apartment you had picked

And how you would finally be able to adopt the little mutt that the two of you love from the shelter

When out of no where

A villain popped down off of a building

Right behind you

And did something weird to you

They hit you meticulously and in specific places

Before Kirishima could even process what was going on

You were on the ground

Of course

You raised an arm

Ready to fight and use your quirk

But nothing happened

You tried again

Nothing

You and Kirishima make eye contact and he can feel the fear radiating off of you

Now he was worried

Very worried

But you knew how to fight

And he was there, too

So this wouldn’t end too bad

UNTIL THERE WAS A FUCKING EXPLOSION IN THE BUILDING THE VILLAIN JUST POPPED OUT OF

You were already back on your feet

Ready to fight this motherfucker

“Go help the people inside, Red Riot. I can handle this one.”

“But-”

“GO!”

He goes

Reluctantly

But he does know you can hold your own

Even if that villain temporarily blocked your quirk

He hardens

Turning his headpiece into a filtering mask (a great addition he thought of so he could run into burning buildings while hardened to save people and not take damage to his lungs in the process)

And luckily

There were only three people inside

So he grabs them and runs out

Easy

And he’s expecting to be met with you handcuffing the bad guy

But instead

He’s met with you getting the life beat out of you

Literally

You’re on the ground

The villain pulled out swords while he was gone

And it was obvious you were down and weren’t gettingup

But the villain just wasn’t letting up

Kirishima’s legs work before his brain

He runs over to the villain and lands a punch to their face

Which causes them to stumble backwards

Before they throw the swords at a random citizen who is observing

He immediately runs to the citizen, deflecting the swords

But the villain ran off in the mean time

Like they disappeared without a trace

But honestly

Even if they were still there

Kirishima would have run to you regardless

He immediately kneels down

“(Y/n)?! (Y/n), can you hear me?!”

He ditched the hero names this time

You weren’t responding

You were out cold

He starts panicking

Like

Full on hyperventilating

You looked bad

You were pierced by the villains swords in your side

Blood was everywhere

Your breathing was shallow

Regardless of the genuine panic attack he was going through right now

He somehow managed to control his breathing so you wouldn’t bleed out on the ground

He needed to help you

He picks you up

Instantly starting to sprint to the ambulances beginning to pull up

As soon as the paramedics see the state you’re in they get you off of him

And speed off to the hospital

Kirishima is left alone 

Staring at his hands 

Which were dyed red with your blood

All he could see was your face laughing at him because he forgot to get two pairs of gloves the first time you helped him dye his hair

…He didn’t like red all that much right now

After what feels like hours

But was really like two minutes

Tamaki shows up

Because he heard there was something going on

And as soon as he sees Kirishima on the ground and sobbing

He knows something bad has happened to you

He quickly gets him out of there

And back to the agency

Where Kirishima accidentally sees a replay of the fight on television

And he sees that you were fighting the villain just fine

But they were so nimble and fast 

And all they did was hit the nape of your neck and then the side of your temple

And you collapsed

Tamaki turned the television off before the full fight was shown

But the damage was done

Kirishima was back on the ground

Tamaki tries to comfort him

But Kirishima is out of commission

“I couldn’t save her, Tamaki! I wasn’t there!”

“…C-Come on, Kirishima… w-we should… go to the hospital…”

Tamaki is trying so hard to get him to calm down 

But to no avail

So eventually he just drags him out and to his car

He speeds to the hospital

And Kirishima doesn’t even wait for the car to slow down to run inside

He has to wait to see you

Since you were punctured 

But he was willing to wait

And wait he did 

For four days

Of course after you were done with your surgery he was allowed in your room

But it was a matter of waiting for you to wake up

He was always with you

He only went home to shower

He slept at the hospital

He needed to be with you

So when you finally woke up

He cried tears of happiness for the first time in days

“(Y/n), thank god you’re awake.”

“Eiji? What happened…?”

“There was a villain attack and they knocked you out and-”

“Why don’t you look 15?”

“What?”

“You look… older… and your hair is longer.”

“…What? You were the one who encouraged me to grow it out…”

“I… I was?”

He stares at you for a moment

His happy tears turning into ones of fear

Before hitting the call nurse button and asking you a question

“(Y/n) what grade are we in?”

“We’re freshmen at UA High School.”

No. 

No, no, no, no, no

Before he could answer the doctor and nurses came in the room

They started asking you a bunch of questions

To which you answered the best you could

But it was obvious that you were convinced it was two years ago

The doctors took you off to do scans of your brain

This can’t be happening

You think it’s two years ago

Two years

So much has happened within those two years

The two of you have done so much

Just

Imagine how devastated he is when he hears your memory is just gone

And your quirk with it

You were a hero

Your quirk can’t be gone

“Eiji… please don’t cry, it’ll be okay.”

“I can’t help it, pebble. I wasn’t there to save you and now… now you don’t remember everything we’ve done. And… and your quirk… you’re the best hero I know, and now…”

“Eijirou, I promise you it will be okay. As long as you’ll be with me, like you always are, I will be fine.”

He doesn’t say anything

He just looks at his hand holding yours

At least you still remember he asked you to be his girlfriend

But he is deadset on finding the villain who did this to you

“I will get you out of this.”

“Ei…”

“I will fix this. I promise you. I will save you. I need to.”

[darkverrmin]

Some idiot in a tavern tries to pick a fight with Jaskier, giving him odd looks and insulting him nonstop. Jaskier ignores him completely as he continues to blabber happily about something, but Geralt keeps an eye on the man. He's at least twice Jaskier's size and Geralt knows that the bard wouldn't stand against him in a fight.

The man gets up and moves towards their table. Geralt is immediately standing almost chest to chest with the man, growling at him.

"Fuck off".

The man gives him a vile smile. "What you're gonna do about it?"

Jaskier quickly moves to stand between them, grabbing Geralt by the shoulders. "Please don't, let's just leave, please don't do anything, Geralt, it's not worth it".

"Yeah, mutant. Listen to your bitch and get the fuck outta here". The man behind his speaks.

Jaskier rolls his eyes and turns to face him. "Okay, you bastard, you will not speak to my friend that wa-". Jaskier gets cut off by a punch in the jaw, flying backwards into Geralt. Geralt is quick to grab him before he hits the ground, but before he realizes it, Jaskier is back on his feet. Geralt is ready to kill the man, but he just stands there, blinking and gaping at the scene in front of him.

Jaskier jumps on the man, pinning him to the ground. He lays one punch after another in his face as he hisses at him. "You rude, fucking-", "Who's the bitch now, eh?", "You better learn to respect the ones who save your sorry ass from monsters-"

A small crowd gathers around them, cheering for Jaskier. Geralt hears one of the waiter girls saying "Oh, thank fuck, finally someone's teaching that bastard a lesson".

Geralt drags Jaskier away from the fight, with the younger man kicking his feet and screaming. It's funny, Geralt thinks. Earlier he thought he'd be dragging Jaskier away so the bard won't get killed. He never thought he'd be doing the same thing so Jaskier won't kill someone else.

Once they're outside the tavern, Geralt leads them back to the inn. Jaskier spits and curses all the way back, furious. Geralt can't help but acknowledge how hot he looks like this- His hair ruffled, his sleeves rolled up, revealing his forearms, his eyes angry and determined.

Once they're back in their room, Geralt tends to Jaskier's wounds, cleaning Jaskier's face and his bloody knuckles. "Thanks" Jaskier mumbles as Geralt presses a wet cloth to the bruise on his face. "Sorry you had to get involved in this".

Geralt frowns. "What the fuck are you talking about? He hurt you".

Jaskier raises his eyebrows, eyes still closed. "Yeah. But I might've overdone it with my reaction".

"Nonsense" Geralt insists. "I heard half the town talking about how horrible that prick is. They were happy you were beating the shit out of him".

Jaskier shruggs. "I guess".

"You guess? Jaskier, that man was twice your size".

"Oh, he was barely a threat".

Geralt's hand lingers on Jaskier's cheek. "Hard to deny it, it was kinda hot".

Jaskier opens his eyes, staring at Geralt curiously. "What are you saying?"

Geralt gives him a small smile, placing his hand on top of Jaskier's. "I'm saying you looked hot. Everybody in the tavern thought so. They were eating you with their eyes. I was jealous".

Jaskier smiles back at him. "Jealous? Dear Gods, Mr. Geralt of Rivia, I'm starting to think that you're willing to get into my pants".

Geralt stares at him for a moment. "Oh... I want so much more than that".

In less than a minute they find themselves tangled up in each other on the bed, completely naked, kissing, biting, licking and panting.

***

The next morning, Eskel and Lambert return from a contract they took together.

They find Geralt and Jaskier sitting downstairs at their inn, the bard giggling in Geralt's lap, arms wrapped loosely around the Witcher's neck.

Eskel and Lambert exchange looks as they sit down across their table.

"Hi!" Jaskier beams at them. "How was the contract?"

"It was good" Eskel nods. He immediately notices Jaskier's bandaged knuckles. "What happened to your hands?"

"Got into a bar fight yesterday" Geralt answers for him. "Beat a motherfucker twice his size".

Eskel and Lambert exchange looks again.

"Why is he sitting in you lap?" Lambert questions Geralt.

"Oh, we're together now" Jaskier grins brightly, rubbing his cheek against the side of Geralt's head.

Eskel and Lambert blink at them, not bothering to hide their confusion.

Eskel clears his throat. "Um..."

Lambert interrupts him. "We've been gone for less than a day. What the fuck?"

[axwalker]

Creep 2: I don’t care if it hurts

HIGH SCHOOL AU

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC  (Lexie O’Brien) Book TRR

MASTERLIST HERE

Synopsis: Drake and Lexie are star-crossed lovers. Her father hates him and forces Lexie to stop any contact with Drake. Lost and heartbroken, he “bullies” her for two years until he discovers the truth of Lexie’s behavior.

A/N 1 This came up to me after I got an ask from @nestledonthaveone​ to write a fic based on the song CREEP.

I used to hear this song when I was a teenager, so when I read this ask, I immediately wanted to write something angsty but situated in high school.

A/N 2: Because they’re younger than usual, I decided to change my  FC. 

Words: 4,110 

WARNINGS: Parental abuse, domestic violence, toxic love.

THIS IS NOT YOUR USUAL MARSHMALLOW DRAKE. He was abandoned as a boy, he’s tortured and he doesn’t know how to express his love. His behavior is not excusable.

This is a dark love story. If you’re not comfortable with it, PLEASE do not read it.  

ALL MY FICS ARE 18+

TAGS ON THE COMMENTS

As this is darker than usual; I’m only tagging the people who commented in the previous chapter. If you want to get on or off the list for this fic, please do not hesitate to ask!! 

DRAKE

Even if she never looks at me or speaks to me again, she’s mine. Even if I’ve been a horrible jerk to her for two years and she pales every time I pull into the parking lot on my motorcycle, she is mine. Just seeing her with him enrages me, so I walk straight toward my usual seat, directly behind Lexie, and slam my textbook down onto the desk.

Startled, Rys looks up at me, “Hey, Walker. What’s up?” 

It’s not the first time he tries to make a move on Lexie. Last time –two years ago, we almost killed each other. Pretty boy might be an entitled ass, but he knows how to fight. Maybe he thinks Lexie is game again after all this time. He couldn’t be more wrong. 

 “Don’t you have a class this period?” I ask him. Liam cocks his left eyebrow, adjusting the straps of his backpack. 

“I fail to see why that concerns you, Creep.”  

My smile is murderous. “Get the fuck out of here before I break your face, pretty boy.”

I think he has a death wish because he looks at Lexie when he talks, “See you after class, Alexis, when your watchdog will be busy mowing my lawn.” Finally, he just shakes his head and gets out of the classroom. I resume my daily routine. Staring at the back of Lexie’s head, tracing the curve of her perfect neck, my cock getting hard over her perfect cherry scent. 

“So that’s what you like,” I say, leaning forward to speak an inch from her ears. “You like them with blond hair and pink polo shirts. Prospects for Cambridge or shit. A huge trust fund. Don’t you? A brat like you needs someone who can spoil her. I bet you’d introduce him to daddy, wouldn’t you?” 

She doesn’t respond. She never does. Her eyes stay stubbornly on the front of the class where the teacher has started writing today’s lesson on the board—my hands fist in desperation. I’m dying for her to talk to me. To look at me. Anything. “Too bad, Lexie. I’ll scare every single one of those fucking entitled boys off. You’re going to sit alone in your house on prom night, crying into your designer sheets like a baby. And I’m going to enjoy it.” 

The only sign that she hears me at all is the quickening rise and fall of her shoulders. Even that tiny display that I’ve upset her is agonizing, floods me with self-loathing, but I can never stop. She ripped out my fucking heart, and I can’t deal with the consequences of that alone. I can’t let her go. I’ll never let her go. This toxic feeling is the only thing left between us. My hands shake with the urge to take her in my arms, to stop the trembling I caused. To protect her from everything. Even myself. I’d love to move my fingers up into the silky, brown hair that reaches the middle of her graceful neck. I don’t have a lot of money; most of the cash I earn as a handyman goes to food and fixing my dad’s cabin, but I’d give every last cent for her to turn and lock those soft brown eyes on me, just one last time. Sometimes when I jerk off, all it takes is fantasizing about Lexie looking at me, giving me one of those shy smiles, and I lose it. One stroke. Maybe two. Done. I can’t breathe without having her close. And I can’t breathe with her close. It’s a strange condition, this obsession, but she’s an addiction that I just can’t give up. 

How could I? She’s intelligent, strong, and so damned gorgeous. Once upon a time, I thought she had a good heart too. But that was before she broke my pathetic heart only because I’m poor. I’ve been hurting since then, and I need her to hurt too. To know what it feels.

“Do you actually think that dumb rich boy would be a good choice for your first time, Lexie?” I grip my desk so tight it nearly breaks down, just thinking about her being kissed –touched by someone else. “At least that’s one thing us poor motherfuckers have going for us. We know how to fuck. If you went out with Rys for a while, you’d eventually give in and come slumming it one night, wouldn’t you? Knock on my rundown cabin door, begging me to fuck you as we both know you’d like.”

A pretty blush is starting to climb her neck. I have to take a deep breath to keep from kiss her pink cheeks. But I think if I got to touch her skin, my wall of bullshit would crumble. I’ve only fucked one girl. Since seeing Lexie for the first time freshman year, there’s been no one but her. I want no one else. She owns my cock as sure as she owns my heart. How easily she’s forgotten about both leaving me in agony. 

“Stop,” she breathes. I freeze. Did she just speak to me? It’s the first time in two years that she’s even remotely acknowledged my existence. 

“Lexie,” I managed to say. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. That’s all it took. One pleading word out of her mouth, and I’m done. 

“Just stop,” she says again, turning her head slightly. “Please.” 

I fall back in my chair, my heart thundering on my chest. If we weren’t in the middle of class, if I didn’t feel like a monster, I would pull her into my arms right now. I’d hug her until she stopped struggling, then beg her to hit me, bruise me, make me pay for every shitty thing I’ve ever said to her. But before long, the class is over, and she’s leaving the classroom to get out of here. To put distance between us as quickly as possible—and I have no choice but to watch her because I feel physically ill. Still, I manage to get out into the student-packed hallway, my plan to apologize for being crude and a jerk and torturing her for so long. 

My head is telling me not to apologize, though. It’s telling me she deserved it for being such a snob, for breaking me, for valuing money and status like everyone else. My damned heart is telling an entirely different story. It’s insisting there is an explanation for her behavior. Am I going to apologize or not? The decision is taken out of my hands when Lexie opens her locker, and the little gift I left before class falls down. It’s a picture I cut out from our last yearbook. In the photo is a gorgeous smiling Lexie above the caption Most Likely to Succeed. Except I’ve crossed out the caption and added my own. Most Likely to Be a Trophy Wife. Watching her read it, I almost get sick right there in the hallway. Usually, she’s perfectly composed, not betraying a trace of emotion where I’m concerned—a real Ice queen. I’ve always thought she honestly didn’t care. Today, though… she’s not pulling it off. Something is not okay with her, and I don’t like it. She has to bite down on her bottom lip to stop it from quivering as she puts the photo back into her locker, out of sight, her bright eyes finding me briefly, massacring me where I stand. Betraying with one single look how much she has been affected by my actions. Christ. She hasn’t been indifferent at all.

Before I can react, before I can call her name, she’s gone, vanished into the crowd of wild students excited to be leaving for the day. And I know what I have to do. I have to see her. To apologize. To get an explanation for everything. Tonight. I’ll return to her house for the first time in two years.

LEXIE

I’ve known this was coming all day. Sitting on the couch in my living room, trying to make myself as small as possible, I watch my father pace. He rants, gesticulating noisily. This isn’t new, my father’s rage threatening me. But it’s going to be worse than usual. Business has declined for him and it’s put his temper on a trigger. Dad’s new wife, Nancy, hates to be on a budget, and she’s been spending his money like crazy all over Paris --where she’s now. When dad gets home from the office, he’s rarely in anything but a horrible mood. A tornado eating up everything in its path. Completely terrifying. At least dad’s temper makes me forget what Drake told me today, the ugly words he said to me, the boiling anger in his eyes when he looks at me. 

“Are you even listening?” The slap across the face comes as a shock because I’d momentarily disappeared into my thoughts, but the sting quickly brings me back to reality. 

“Yes, sir,” I say, my ears ringing. “I’m listening.” 

“This C on your algebra test is going to drag your whole average down.” He’s waving the test in my face. “What a disappointment you are, Alexis. Your teacher shared my disgust.” I nod solemnly, but I’m listening for the rain outside. “I guess you’re your daughter’s mother after all. A poor Mexican girl who could barely count.” It’s not true. My mom learned English and Greek by herself, and she was a great Spanish teacher in Portavira, but my father would rather die than acknowledge how smart she was. 

“Don’t talk like that about her,” I retort.

My father snorts. “I beg your pardon?” He takes a step towards me, and I can see the threat in his eyes. 

“I’m sorry.” I hate to be such a coward, but I know what he can do to me.” I’ll do extra credit. Something to bring my grade back up to an A.” I wet my lips. “Even if I can’t manage to raise the grade, it’s not going to show up on the college transcripts I sent off with my applications.” That’s the reason I let my focus slip a little in algebra. The finish line is in sight for everyone, and we’re just waiting to find out where we’ll be accepted for college. It’s a wonder I’ve been able to maintain my focus this long in any class, considering Walker sits behind me in every period, brooding making me feel … something. At the reminder of him, I want to close my eyes and dream about him. I replay that night in my garden when he kissed me two years ago, so tenderly and passionately, when he spoke to me so sweetly and honestly before he became the second villain in my story. Someone I dread, as much as I crave the sight of him.  

At least that’s one thing us poor motherfuckers have going for us. We know how to fuck. If you went out with that punk for a while, you’d eventually give in and come slumming it one night, wouldn’t you? Knock on my trailer door, begging me to ride you right. 

Should I be ashamed of the way my body reacted to those words? I grew uncomfortably damp in the hard plastic chair, the center of my body clenching, seeming to beat like a heart. His breath on my neck made me shiver, head to toe. Even the way he scared off Liam Rys did something to me. Aroused me. Deeply. It got so bad that I broke the rules and asked him to stop. I can still hear him saying my name in that tortured way after. That shocked, uneven sound. Lexie. And whether I’m ashamed of myself for it or not, I know I’ll think of it when I touch myself tonight. His voice, his hands, his eyes obsess me. 

“College?” My father snorts, tearing the test in half. “You’re not going to college.” 

This grabs my attention. A horrible feeling is making me cold. “I’m…what? What do you mean? I applied to nine different schools. I have a four-point five GPA.” 

For the first time, I notice his red face is about more than just rage. There’s…humiliation. I’ve never seen him display that emotion. 

“None of the American colleges that accepted you offered scholarships.” 

“I’ve been accepted?” I gasp, sitting forward, heart pounding in my chest. “Where? I didn’t see the letters—” 

“All the mail in this house goes through me, Alexis. I read them. And you failed to get academic scholarships. You failed. Not that I’m surprised.”

 I don’t point out that his refusal to let me participate in any extracurricular activities is more than likely to blame for that. I’m too worried about what he’s saying, what this means. The blood is draining from my head, making the room spin around me. 

“Okay, I’m sorry about that. I’m sorry. But…we have money. We can pay tuition, can’t we? Or colleges in Cordonia are almost for free. I can go to any of them; I don’t have to go to NYU.” I have to get out of here. I have to get out of here. This is my way out. College is the escape route. I counted on going back to New York, but I can stay here and go to college in Cordonia City. 

“Listen to you, so quick to spend my hard-earned money—spoiled brat. And of course, you can’t go to college in Cordonia. What for? To end up being a schoolteacher like your mom? A housewife as Nancy?” He laughs bitterly. “No, you’ll stay here, and I’ll help you find someone suitable to marry.” 

I shake my head. “There’s financial aid, then. Loans or I can get a job and go to college in Portavira…” 

“You want to leave, just like her, don’t you? You’re all the same.”

 I don’t even flinch when he yanks me to my feet, shoving me into the wall. In fact, for the first time, I took him right into his eyes. And I can see the violence burning on them has nothing to do with me. It never had anything to do with how I behave, my choices, how hard I worked in school. How welcome I made Nancy feel or cooked a roast. It’s about him and his self-loathing. It’s his sickness. Not mine. I can also see that he was never going to send me to college. Because he wouldn’t be able to control me from a distance or stop me from sharing what I’ve been subjected to since my mother died. Not like he does now. He wasn’t physically abusive all the time. Especially not when his new wife is around. But she traveled often, and then he’d push me. Shove me. Slapped me several times. I’ll graduate at the top of my class for nothing. He knew I would all along. 

That’s when I realize I’m free. I don’t have money, but college is free in Cordonia. I can work, save a little and go to college in one or two years. I’ll be a writer; it’ll just take more time than I thought. “Go to hell,” I whisper. 

He steps back, giving me the momentary satisfaction of his shock. “What did you say?”

Liberated, I scream it this time. “Go to hell!” From the moment I sat down to have this conversation, I knew tonight would be worse than usual, but I’ve just bought myself a ticket to hell. Usually, I can retreat to the untouchable place inside of me as he unleashes his rage, but not tonight. He doesn’t stop at one or two slaps. He punches and kicks, and I’m present for every punch and kick. Every yelled insult. Finally, I start to get scared. I’m crawling across the carpet on my hands and knees, searching for a weapon I can use in my defense when I glance out the window and see Drake staring back at me, his face a mask of horror.

 Drake

 What I’m seeing just isn’t possible. It can’t be real. My head won’t accept it. Not until her terror-filled eyes meet mine through the window and the truth pounds on my chest, leaves no doubt that this is real life. Lexie’s father is beating her. Her mouth is bloody, one of her eyes beginning to swell, arms and legs visibly weakened. I can barely fucking process it before my body is springing into action, desperate to protect her. To put a stop to the worst thing I have ever seen. What the fuck. Scorching hot rage takes over. I kick in the front door and throw myself between Lexie and her father. His fist is raised, but it pauses when he sees me, his momentary confusion giving me the time I need to knock him out cold. It only takes one right uppercut from someone his own size, and he goes down, his blank, glassy eyes staring at nothing, mouth opened. It’s not satisfying enough.

Nothing will ever be satisfying enough. I want to kill him, destroy him, but my Lexie is struggling for breath behind me, and she’s all I can think about. Turning, I approach her, my heart threatening to jump off my chest. As gently as I can, I catalog all of the cuts and purpling skin. No. No. Who could do this to her? Who could lay a finger on her in anything but reverence? Get her out of here. Calling her name, I reach down to pick her up, but she flinches and hurries back, bringing her body up against the wall. 

“Don’t touch me!” Those words filled with fear rip the soul clean out of my body. My hands drop limply to my sides and two years come rushing back, hitting me in the chest like a hammer. Every word, every action. Everything I did to make her life harder when this is what she’s been dealing with at home? Fuck me. 

“Lexie…” My voice is as kind as I can. I feel broken. “I’m sorry. I came here to apologize. For everything.” 

She puffs a humorless laugh, testing her cut lip with the tip of her tongue. “Bet you weren’t expecting to see this.” 

“If I knew this was happening, I would have been here a long time ago. I would have stopped it. I swear Lex.” 

Her expression can only be described as stunned. Maybe even a little pissed. “You are not my savior, Drake. You are my enemy. You’ve been for two years, and I want nothing else from you now.”

 “I am not your enemy.” Those words barely make it out of me, my chest hurts so fucking bad. “Don’t say that.” 

Unsteadily, she uses the wall to try and stand. I try to help her, but she recoils, and it’s a dagger straight into the center of my throat. Nothing less than I deserve, though, isn’t it? Her distrust of me is entirely my fault. I’ve made her hate me. There has to be some way to fix what I’ve done. Please God, let there be away. But right now, my main concern is her physical safety. Knowing she’s been in danger all along is unbearable. I only decided to come here tonight a few hours ago. What if I didn’t? What if I arrived an hour later? The possibilities are going to haunt me for the rest of my life. From the floor, her father groans, shifting slightly. 

“We need to get you out of here,” I say, anxious to get her free of this place. “Now, Lexie. I need to get you somewhere safe.” 

She’s standing now. Leaning against the wall and cradling one arm to her stomach, regarding me warily. “How do I know I’m safe with you?” It’s so much worse that her question is honest. Not meant to hurt me. She honestly doesn’t know if I pose a threat. It guts me where I stand. 

“You are the safest with me,” I say thickly, cursing myself. Wanting to erase the last two years so badly, my hands shake. “Please believe me. I’d die before hurting you. I’d never, Lexie. I’d never do something like that.” 

Her father rolls over onto his back and slurs a few words before losing consciousness again. Still, the sound of the older man’s voice seems to scare Lexie, “I…maybe you can just give me a ride to…a motel maybe?” She pushes off the wall, her step uneven as she walks toward the stairs. “I need some things from my room.” 

It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her we don’t have time, but I’m just grateful she’s trusting me enough to leave with me, so I don’t argue. I just wait until she’s halfway up the stairs, then tie her father’s hands behind his back with my belt in case he wakes up before we leave. I have no problem knocking him out a second time, but Lexie has seen enough violence for one night. Cautiously, I walk up the stairs toward the light coming from a room halfway down the hall. This place is a far cry from my home. It’s elegant and clean, and tasteful, but it lacks any warmth whatsoever. It’s cold, like a museum. Turning the corner into Lexie’s room, it’s time to hate myself all over again. There is nothing on the walls, none of the expensive furnishings. Just four white walls, a bed, and a dresser that doubles as a desk. Several textbooks. She looks back at me over her shoulder as if judging my reaction, and I keep my features impassive, though I’m dying on the inside. 

“What can I do?” I ask. 

“How long do we have?” 

“As long as you need.” It’s physically painful not to pull her into my arms when I’m standing this close, and she’s hurt. Sad. Yet full of more inner strength than I’ve ever witnessed in another human being. I’m lucky just to be in her presence. I fucked up royally. And if she allows me back in, I’ll never do it again. It’s probably, definitely, too much to hope for. Being allowed back in. She doesn’t even look sure about having me in her room. Let alone her heart. I was trying to protect my own heart, but I lost it instead. 

 “Um…” She closes her eyes to focus, a familiar trait I’ve seen in class countless times. “There is a black bag in the hallway closet. Can you just stuff anything into it from the bathroom that looks useful?” 

Ask me to bring you a unicorn. I’ll find a way to do it. “Sure.” We work in silence, Lexie taking things out of drawers and adding them to the bag, which I’ve left open on the floor. I add toiletries from the bathroom, and once it’s zipped, I wait, watching her hesitate in the doorway. 

“Lexie?” Conflicted chocolate eyes meet mine. 

“I can’t just leave, can I?” 

“You’re not safe here, baby,” I say softly, trying to keep the residual rage at bay because it’s the last thing she needs. Not to mention she’s had her fill with negativity from me. No more. “How long…how long?” 

She shrugs, the saddest expression in her eyes. “My mom died five years ago. Ever since then, it’s gotten worse and worse. Although I never had a chance to talk to anyone about what happened behind closed doors, you know? I don’t think a person can evolve into a monster. It’s inside him.”

 “I don’t know,” I say. “I became one, didn’t I?” 

That gives her pause, forms a line between her delicate brows. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.” 

She starts to walk past me, stops, standing close enough to fill my nose with cherry. “He told me if I ever spoke to you ever again, he would hurt me. Ruin you, have you evicted. Make sure you never got hired again. I didn’t mean to…hurt you. Or hurt your feelings, if that’s what happened.” 

That revelation destroys me, sets me on fire. “Jesus, Lexie. You were protecting me? And I…I tortured you for it?” I twist the neck of my T-shirt, trying to calm down, but it doesn’t work. I’ll never be calm again “I’m so fucking sorry.” 

She glances at the doorway, then back at me, eyes closed again in that way that says she’s thinking. “All I want from you now is a ride out of here, okay? And on Monday morning, you’ll stop.” She opens her shining eyes again. “No more bullying, Drake. If you’re really sorry, you’ll do that for me.” 

Fuck. I couldn’t say one more single shitty thing to her if my life depended on it. Put me at gunpoint, and I’d rather get shot at than torture this girl for one more second. But I’m highly, painfully aware that with an end to the bullying comes an end to the possessiveness. No more scaring off guys who show interest in her. No more getting close enough in class to count the hairs on her head, to smell her sweet fragrance. And to tell the truth, I’m pretty fucking worried I don’t know how to give those things up completely. I don’t think I can physically do it. This addiction with Lexie isn’t something I can cut off. A leg would be easier to sever. But my hesitation is causing her eyes to worry. If I don’t agree to, essentially, let her go… she’s not going anywhere with me. And that means her safety won’t be guaranteed. I need it to be. More than anything. 

“No more bullying,” I say, finally. A moment later, I follow her out of the room and down the stairs, trying desperately to count the hairs on her head before I no longer have the chance.

[obeiii-mee]

How will the bros react to MC self-doubting themselves? Like saying bad things about them or can't be serious someone give them compliment.

Supportive demon bois coming right up! Sorry I took so long to write this anon! Thank you so much for the ask! (Also, thank you all for the love on my previous posts!)

————————————

The Brothers with an MC who self doubts themselves:

Lucifer:

-As the embodiment of pride itself, Lucifer has an overwhelming amount of confidence, almost all the damn time

-So, he was flabbergasted to learn that you weren’t the same

-He always insisted that you aren’t anything but perfect, yet you always seemed to brush the compliments off with a shrug and an awkward smile

-Well, shit, we can’t have that

-Lucifer just got 10x more serious about the matter

-He pulls a really stupid concerned face whenever you insult yourself and he looks more and more like a 48 year old man/dad each time it happens

-He, as of late, increased the number of pet names he has for you and the amount of compliments he gives you each day

-He refuses to let you talk badly about yourself anywhere, at any point in time and encourages every little step you take towards bettering yourself like crazy

- Lucifer wants to prove to you that you are an absolute ray of sunshine and he will go to any lengths to do just that (do not ask)

-He’s even more affectionate than usual which confuses just about everyone in the House of Lamentation, yourself included

-His brothers are feeling a disturbance in the force and they don’t know how to feel about it

-You are possibly the best thing that’s happened to him since he fell as angel and Lucifer is ready to do whatever he can to help you realise that

Mammon:

-“You’re an idiot!”

-“*Sigh*, I know.”

-“Wha-Wait! Y-you can’t say thAT!”

-The Great Mammon is seriously worried about his human

-Being the dense motherfucker he is (i still love him tho) it took him weeks to realise you’re not all that confident in yourself

-At some point in your relationship, he jokingly called you annoying and you just went “Yeah I’ve been told. Sorry.”

-His jaw literally dropped and he almost cried

-He would have choked if he was drinking something

-Tsundere Mammon has gone bye bye and here comes the cuddling teddy bear that is your boyfriend

-He also doesn’t have as much self love for himself as he sometimes pretends to have so he’s kinda in the same boat

-Which means your boat is leaking and you’re perfectly fine with it while he’s panicking and trying to throw water overboard with his hands

-His brothers call him an idiot a lot but he’s a very sociable guy with people skills that he uses all the time in order to coax you out of your self pitiying shell

-Will whine every time you call yourself ‘useless’ or disagree with his compliments because what the hell, you’re literally the most gorgeous being ever let me love youuuu

-When it comes to you and your happiness, he ain’t fucking around. He will snarl at anyone that even looks at you in the wrong way

-Did that to Lucifer once, guess a what happened

-You’ve definitely helped him come to terms with the fact that he is loveable and not a good for nothing scum

-So now it’s your turn!

-Let him kiss your insecurities away please

-Your presence makes him feel wanted so he wants the same for you!

Levi:

-Well then

-It takes two to tango ya know?

-He is the KING of self loathing and no confidence whatsoever in anything he does so every time you put yourself down, he counters it with a self deprecating insult as well

-“I suck.”

-“Nah, you’re pretty awesome normie. I’m the shut in, disgusting otaku who can barely set foot outside his bedroom without having an anxiety attack.”

-It’s like you’re trying to outdo the other on who is worse

-Truth is, he really admires you, especially knowing you chose to date him; an anime nerd with no social life and no communication skills whatsoever

-It hurts a bit, every time he builds up the courage to actually compliment you and you not taking it seriously

-That’s because he recognises that he’s the same and just as harsh on himself as you are

-Levi knows self hatred is something that takes time to demolish

-But you are his Henry after all (also his partner but whatevs)

-He’s not gonna leave you hanging when you need him the most

-He also gradually stops calling you a normie as your relationship progresses, though it still slips through every now and again

-Basically, the first time he realised that you think negatively of yourself, his immediate reaction was: Haha lmao relatable

-But now, every time it happens, he gets all serious

-Puts his controller down and everything, it’s like witnessing a very rare phenomenon and it’s creepy as shit

-He’s also made an effort to be more physically affection though he is kinda shy about it because damn it he just wants to hug you every time you speak badly of yourself

-Probably writes a list at some point stating all the reasons why you are better than him and Ruri chan combined, it’s rlly sweet

Satan:

-He’s a bit curious as to where that mentality has come from

-What triggered you to be so self doubtful?

-He’s basically your psychotherapist and asks you a lot of questions trying to find different causes and solutions for your issues

-Honestly, he puts so much effort into trying to understand, reading books about it from the human realm and whatever he can find in order to help you

-He scrunches up his nose every time you call yourself an idiot or anything of the sort

-Satan knows that insisting you’re wonderful won’t exactly help you overcome this problem of yours

-But that doesn’t stop him from doing it

-It’s not like you can ignore his comments because he will keep complimenting you until you accept them

-He also repeats a lot of pick up lines but that’s just part of being his partner

-What do you mean you’re worthless?!! He would literally give away all of his books and his hatred for Lucifer in exchange for your well being!

-Satan is possibly the smartest out of all of his brothers, so he uses a tactical approach on this one

-Direct affectionate gestures don’t work on you so he’s gonna be more subtle

-Would slightly hint that you are amazing every time you do something for him, like fetching him a book or something

-“Ah thank you. I don’t know what I would do without you love.”

-He’s a lot smoother than he gives himself credit for

-He just appreciates your existence and that there’s someone out there that he doesn’t need to be act hostile or fake toward

-Satan is ready to sit down and listen to you talk about your insecurities for hours on end

-You would quietly say something bad about yourself and he would run through the House of Lamentation before bursting into the room you are in, shouting ‘No! That’s wrong!’ (going Danganronpa on your asses)

-“Welp, I fucked up again. I can’t do anything right.”

-And then, in the distance you hear boss music starting

Asmo:

-*Shocked Gasp*

-How could you say such things about yourself???? Is that even leGAl?

-Of course, the literally prince of Lust, with all of his narcissism, has never experienced things like ‘self doubt’ of ‘bad self esteem’

-Pfft, the fuck is that?

-He only uses the most positive of words when he describes himself

-So obviously he almost falls off the bed when he hears you insulting yourself for the first time

-But ya know, that would leave bruises on his beautiful skin

-“Oh darling, you’re not annoying or a moron! You’re not anything like Mammon!”

-That was a below belt fatal hit, press f in the chat for the second eldest

-At some point, he just genuinely believes you’ve been spending too much time with Levi and that his negativity started rubbing off on you

-But then you tell him you’ve always been like this and he almost has a crisIS

-He’s like ‘Haha, no, we’re going to get a spa day out tomorrow and a few shopping sprees so I can prove to you that you are magnificent in every way imaginable.’

-Asmo loves pampering you in general but on the days he sees you feeling extra sorry for yourself, he goes above and beyond

-Gets very hurt when you brush off his compliments because he just wants you to accept the fact that you’re beautiful

-He’s like a supportive mom lmao, whenever you’re feeling self doubtful, he goes “You’re doing great sweetie, keep it up I’m really proud of you.”

-It’s up to you to decide whether that helps or not

-He’s such a sweetheart in reality, it’s hard to remember that he’s supposed to be horny all the time

-Well he is but that’s not the point, you’re way more important

-Asmo is so much fun to write cuz I can make him so dramatic it’s hilarious

Beel:

-Oh no :(

-He gets very sad everytime you self deprecate yourself

-You can’t do it with him in the room because he’s going to start crying and give you this kicked puppy stare, it will break your heart

-Beel kinda comes over and goes “If I give you some of my food will you please stop saying bad things about yourself? Because it’s not true.”

-Well you can’t say no to that face

-He feels like it’s his fault you’re this self doubtful even though you’ve tried to explain to him you’ve always been like this

-He goes crying to his twin half the time because he doesn’t know what to do

-“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to drop it! Fucking hell, I’m such a fucking klutz.”

-“Sniffle no you’re not.”

-He’s like, giving you large portions of his food now

-Because food makes him happy so he wants you to be happy too

-🙂

-His brothers go in shock every time because the only other person Beel has ever shared his food with before was Belphie

-Physical affection goes through the roof with this guy

-Bone crushing hugs btw

-Your self worth is so immeasurable with him, you can’t even measure it

-W h o a

-I’m being serious, don’t talk badly about yourself in front of him unless you want to be hugged into next week

-You are a literal angel in his eyes, of course he thinks highly of you

-He’s just hoping his presence isn’t making your self esteem worse, that’s the thing that keeps him up at night

-Idk why but he does think that he is a bad influence on your mental well being since he’s a demon

-Beel gives you compliments all the time and it confuses him when you laugh them off uncertainly because he wasn’t joking or lying??

-He’s always supportive of your choices and encourages you to be more confident

-The same way you show your support everytime you come to his games to cheer him on

-Overall, he just wants you to feel special and appreciated

-Because you deserve it

-IneedmyselfaBeel

Belphie:

-He feels like absolute shit

-Becuase he’s well aware he‘s called you a few...not so nice words in the past

-Back then, he only thought he meant everything he said but now that he’s hearing you accept his insults and actually repeating them yourself?

-It hurts his brain and he wants to smash his head against all four walls of the room for being such a cretin

-You do tell him it’s not exactly his fault you think so badly of yourself

-But he still believes he fueled it

-So now he needs to fix it

-He’s tried everything and I mean everything

-It’s kinda working, slow progress is made which he’s really happy about but you know, it’s gonna take a while

-He finally settles on physical affection as the best way to communicate his gratefulness for you being youself

-Oh, he wasn’t hugging you before? He is now, get your ass next to him and let him cuddle you

-Handholding has increased by 69% in the last month, sorry for the loss of your right hand with how much he squeezes it

-Sometimes, he can’t help but a throw an insult at you in a playful manner, because he’s an asshole

-But he always makes sure you understand that he was just joking

-He’s such a little shit, you would be having a chat with him and you would subtly drop a insult at yourself hoping he wouldn’t notice

-But then he stops dead in his tracks, kisses you, says “Shut up, you’re stunning” and then he goes right back to the previous conversation like nothing happened

-Accept his compliments damn it otherwise he will continue to bug you about it for the rest of the day

-He’s an eboy and he’s a dickhead a times, but he just goes soft for you tbh

-If you’re feeling really bad about yourself, he won’t even say anything

-He will just big spoon you for the next 24 hours, good luck going to the bathroom or any meals during that time

-Because once you’re in his grip, you’re not getting out that easily

-He gets so pissy if anyone says something even slightly negative about you to your face

-One time, a random demon called you stupid in one of the classes at RAD and he was like ‘bïtch excuse me what?’

-Snapped his head around at him and everything

-He would have done something worse but he was lazy and feeling really petty

-So Belphie kicked him in the privates from under his desk like a damn spoiled brat

-And then he turned his head back to you, all smiles and rainbows and puppies

-I’m simping so hard for a fictional character wtf

-I had to write more protective Belphie cuz I can’t find anything of the sort anymore and I need flUFF

(Haha, I don’t know what this post is, my writing has officially taken a shit lmao. Sorry this took so long to finish, I kept going back to edit all of them)

Al~