#it got sticky and i had to peel it off but there doesn't seem to be any damage

[sanguinarysorcery]

it's been two years since he got to see the sun

welcome home, Papa

[moonstruckme]

I sent a request a while back before I knew about you closing your request. (Sorry about that.) But maybe apocalypse Remus and reader finally reuniting with the others? Or dealing with the full moon approach while separated from the pack and all the reader wants to do is help, but Remus doesn't want to hurt her? Or maybe they get attacked again, and they get away just fine, but the reader gets hurt in the process or something. Idk something angsty just sounds so good rn 😅

Thank you for requesting love, sorry for the wait!

cw: blood

apocalypse au

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

You’re off gathering more twigs to feed the fire when you hear a series of explosions. Your head snaps in that direction, time seeming to stop with your heart. In the next second you’re dropping the kindling, sprinting back for the campsite, because if someone’s found Remus, if they’ve gotten through his protections—

You only make it a few steps before you see he’s already racing toward you, barely glancing behind him to shoot a nonverbal spell at the three—no, four, five—bounty hunters chasing after him. You scramble for your wand to help, knocking a couple off his heels before Remus barrels into you. He apparates without hesitating, and a scream tears from your throat, pain searing through your side. 

You and Remus grip each other tightly, rolling to the ground. The place where you’ve landed is quiet, but you can hardly tell with the desperate ringing in your ears and the sound of your own panting breaths. Remus rolls off you, inadvertently putting pressure on the blazing pain in your side. You cry out and put your hands over the spot, shielding it from further harm.  

“Fuck.” He’s panting too, shoving his wand in the waistband of his jeans with shaking hands. “Sorry, I didn’t have time to warn you, I—are you hurt?” 

Your brain is all static, speech beyond you, but in a breath there are hands covering yours, pulling at the edge of your shirt. Your shirt, sticky with blood. You moan. 

“You have to let me see,” Remus is saying, fighting to get your hands away from the wound. “I can’t help if I can’t see it.” 

Your shirt sticks and clings to you as he peels it off, the cool air somehow making everything worse. Remus curses proficiently. His touch vanishes. It’s a relief, and also not. You want to go curl up somewhere by yourself until this hurt goes away, and also you don’t want him to leave you. 

He’s back a second later, taking your wrists in a gentle but firm grip to get them away from your side. You hadn’t realized you’d grabbed it again. 

“You’re okay,” he promises swiftly, and you must really trust him, because you almost believe him despite the leaves growing slick with blood beneath you. “You’re going to be fine. Sorry, this is going to sting.” 

You don’t quite process the words before fire sears your side. You choke on a sob, but the pain only spreads, moving inward like it’s eating you away to nothing. Remus shushes you, tiny, helpless placations rushing from between his lips. 

“You’re okay, sweetheart. You’re okay. I’ve got you. Almost done now.” 

When the burning ebbs, you’re honestly not sure whether this new feeling is only the lesser pain you’d felt before whatever Remus had done to you. But a few ticks go by, and the static in your head fades. You can hear yourself breathing. The breeze rustling through trees. You touch your side tentatively, and it’s whole. 

Remus’ scarred hand skims it as though making sure of the same thing. You look at him, tears still clumped in your lashes, and he retracts his hand, glancing down to screw the cap back on the bottle. 

“What is that?” Your voice scrapes on its way out. You clear your throat embarrassedly. 

Remus looks over like he isn’t sure you’re talking to him. “This?” You nod. “Essence of dittany. There’s some powdered silver in it, but that doesn’t tamper with the healing.” 

You nod again, swallowing. Neither of you feel the need to discuss why he has the potion so readily available. Remus turns away from you, burying it back in his bag. You realize for the first time that he even has it, must have managed to grab it before the bounty hunters go too close. You’re both lucky he’s so quick on his feet.

“Thank you,” you say, sitting up, “and, uh, sorry for…making it so difficult.” 

Remus softens. He kneels beside you again, holding a different bottle in his lap as he draws a careful finger under your lashes, catching the tears hanging there. “I’m sorry for splinching you. I should have warned you we were going to apparate.” 

“You were under duress. I think you can be excused some hasty decision-making.” 

“You splinched away nearly half your middle,” he says, a bit of teasing in his voice. “I think you can be excused a bit of hysteria.” You can’t tear your gaze away from his amber eyes, and he doesn’t shy from it. “You came close to losing a few ribs. I don’t know what we would’ve done then.” 

“You would’ve fixed it,” you say certainly, and Remus drops his stare, a bashful smile lifting one corner of his mouth as he unscrews the bottle he’d pulled out of the pack. 

“Maybe,” he allows. “Here, have a few sips of this.” 

You sniff at it tentatively. 

“Don’t smell, just drink.” 

You do. Then you gag, coughing. “Ugh, what is it?” 

“Blood-Replenishing Potion. Have just a little bit more,” he instructs, watching while you do before taking the bottle back and twisting on the cap. “You really scared me, bleeding all over the place like that.” 

“Sorry.” 

He hums as he stores the bottle back in the bag, eyes going somewhere foggy and faraway. It may be the new familiarity of this particular look, but you know instantly what he’s thinking of: the other people he’s terrified for, who might not be faring so well without his help and ample medical supplies. 

“How do you think they’ve managed to find us twice in under a week?” he asks, quiet enough that you wonder if he’s even talking to you. 

“They didn’t.” You match his tone, soft and careful. “Those were bounty hunters, not death eaters.” 

Remus grunts. “Same thing, under this government.” 

“Those guys found us by chance,” you say with certainty you don’t feel. “James and Sirius have always had better luck than that. And they’re smart. If anyone stumbled upon them, they’d get away, too.” 

His throat bobs, but he nods. “You’re right. They’re perfectly competent on their own, I just…I don’t like the idea of them out there without us to help.” 

“Me neither,” you admit at a murmur. 

Remus only looks into the leaves, gaze still distant. You give him the time he needs to collect himself, surveying the area you’ve landed in. It’s not vastly different from the forest you’d been in before, but some of the trees look different and when you listen you can hear a few birdsongs that aren’t the ones you’ve lived among for the past few days. The sun is just starting to dip into the horizon. It lights everything in a soft, glowy orange. You’ll need to gather kindling again if you’re going to have a fire, but for now you just take a breath. The sunlight tangles in Remus’ hair, making his skin look buttery smooth and romanticizing his expression into one of contemplation rather than hauntedness. Your heart throbs, a warm sort of ache. You wonder if he can fix that, too.

“I know it’s not the same,” you say quietly, embarrassedly, “but at least for now, we have each other.” 

Remus smiles. It’s small and weary, but a smile nonetheless. “Yeah,” he says. “I’m glad for it.”

[yazzwrites6962]

Sticky Situation ♡ Denji

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Denji x Fem!Virgin!Reader ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Author's Note: UNEDITED! Denji is absolutely aged up in this depiction. In no way should he be interpreted as a minor, even if it doesn't exactly follow the original work. I do not own any characters/images!

Genre: Smut and fluff

Summary: Y/N is a top tier devil hunter, earning her much respect and praise among others. However, when she catches herself in an embarrassing situation, she desperately pleads for Denji to help and not tell anyone. He wants something in return.

Word Count: 4456

Warnings: Sexual content, language, loss of virginity, penetration, Fem! oral receiving, biting, masochism, blood, slight degradation, praise, hair pulling, spanking, mirror sex, choking, sort of "caught".

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

It was irritating enough that you had to deal with Denji and Power getting in your way all the time in the past couple weeks, but now you had to live with the idiots. You only really did it as a favor to Makima, one of your oldest friends.

"You'll be like a mentor. A stabilizing force to their chaos." You recall the night Makima tried to persuade you. "Besides, it will be good for you. You can't live life all on your lonesome. You should learn to make friends."

"I'm perfectly happy being all on my own for the rest of my life. Other people only slow me down." You can hazily remember Makima pouring you another shot. That was one of the only ways you could be convinced of anything: If you weren't sober. "I have you, what more could I need? Though... I guess if you really want me to do it, I will."

You never could have anticipated that your apartment would be destroyed during a battle with the Chaos devil. It seemed chaos followed you everywhere now that you were a glorified babysitter. The only reason the Chaos devil got away that day was because of Denji ruining your plans. You missed the days when you had your solitude and organized schedule. You had a certain way of doing everything, and he always managed to screw it up.

Now, while your place was being fixed, you were shoved into a cramped apartment with Aki, Denji, and Power. You didn't mind Aki so much. He seemed plenty capable and usually stayed away from you. It was Denji and Power you'd grown to hate. Still, you couldn't back out from your favor to Makima.

It was a warm Sunday, and for once, you had nothing much to do. You'd cleaned up the tiny space you called your own. Somehow, Aki managed to clean out a decently sized closet for you to stay in. You'd cleaned the kitchen as well. Aki, Denji, and Power were not home, and you relished the peace this brought. You couldn't care less about where they were.

No devils, no mess, no noise. What a dream. You opted to take a nice hot shower to relax your muscles. You slowly peel off your clothes, making your way to the bathroom. You turn on the shower, allowing the room to fill with steam. The mirrors fogged and you took your time bathing yourself, enjoying the rare comfort of your solitude.

You must've been in the shower for nearly an hour before you finally decided to get out, wrapping your damp body in a large white towel. You wipe the mirror, finding your bare face staring back at you, wet hair draping over your shoulders. That's when you feel something tickling your foot.

You look down, your heart stopping as you pray that what you're seeing is a hallucination. To your dismay, it's not. You shriek, kicking your foot and leaping onto the sink. You immediately douse your foot in soap, scrubbing it under the faucet while your eyes are locked on the little bug on the floor.

A cockroach. A cockroach was crawling on your foot. Disgusting. Of course, the apartment has cockroaches. Denji and power are the most disgusting people you've ever met. Can it fly? Dear god it better not be able to fly.

You're trapped in the bathroom, unable to leave out of fear of the cockroach. To think, you, who can defeat any foe and instill fear in others is terrified of a cockroach. As you're racking your brain for ideas, the bathroom door bursts open, you scream once again, fearing the cockroach will react to the sudden movement.

"What's going on?!" Denji shouts, standing right at the door. You're huff in frustration. Not only are you stuck with a cockroach, but he's home. He heard you scream. He's... staring right at your cleavage? What a pervert!

"Denji! What the fuck are you doing home?" You yell, trying to calm your nerves. You don't want to lose respect, especially not from him. You pull your towel in a little tighter, trying to cover as much of your body as possible.

"I got home like, fifteen minutes ago. Power and Aki are still out- Why are you on the sink?" He asks, his eyes searching the room before they land on the little brown creature on the floor. His gaze switches between you and the bug before a smirk grows on his face. "Miss Y/N... Are you scared of the cockroach?"

"No!" You practically scream this to the entire building. A deep blush washes over your cheeks as you shift your position ever so slightly. "What are you even doing?! Get out! Shut the door!" Denji does as you instruct, except he steps inside the room before shutting the door behind him.

"Then what are you doing on the sink?" He chuckled, approaching the little bug on the floor. He pinches it between his fingers, and you practically vomit in your mouth from this action. He holds it a little closer to you, and you sink into yourself, holding your breath. "You are scared!" He laughs, the bug writhing between his pointer and his thumb.

"S-Stop! Just get that thing out of here, you freak!" You shut your eyes, horrified by what you're seeing. "I'm not scared! It's just gross! Put it outside!" Denji's laughter continues, as he pulls back, putting some more distance between you and the cockroach.

"Wow. I never thought I'd see you so scared of something. It's kinda cute." He teases. "I'll make you a deal. I'll get rid of the bug, and I won't tell anyone about your fear," You inhale, feeling slightly more relieved. "But you've got to do something for me in return." Of course there's a catch.

"I don't make deals or compromises." You state sternly, pointing towards the door. "Get rid of it, Denji!" Rather than following your orders, he brings the bug closer to you, causing a shriek to slip from your lips.

"C'mon, Miss Y/N. Loosen up. I'm not asking much. Just a favor." A favor is what got you into this mess in the first place, but with the cockroach's legs wiggling right in front of your face, you don't have too much of a choice.

"Fine! Whatever! Just get it out of here!" With that, Denji steps back, anticlimactically tossing the bug into the toilet and flushing it away just as quickly as it came. He makes his way back to the sink, a proud grin on his face. "Wash your fucking hands you degenerate." You bark. Denji rolls his eyes, doing as he's told this time.

"See? Was that so bad? You could've flushed the thing yourself, y'know." He laughs as you slide your way off the sink. You adjust your towel once again, realizing that you're still completely nude underneath. Denji has had this in mind since the beginning. "Now, can I get my favor?"

"You want to cash it in already?" You groan, still blushing from embarrassment. "You should save it for something important. It's not every day you get a favor from me." Ddenji shakes his head, turning off the sink and drying his hands. He actually washed them well enough that you don't have any complains.

"I wanna use it now." He says, hungrily looking down over your frame. Your bare skin is still slightly wet, droplets of water clinging to your skin. Your hair is drooping over your face. This is the rawest, most vulnerable state he has ever seen you in. "I want you to take off the towel."

Silence. Even the birds outside stopped chirping. You blink a few times, hoping this was a joke, but it's not. Your face grows redder as you cling to your towel for dear life. You're speechless. What kind of perverted request is this?

"Y-You... You weirdo!" You yell, turning your face away from him. "That is not a favor! That's just... It's just... You're so gross!" You turn to leave the bathroom, but he graps your wrist, holding you in place. You're about to knock some sense into him, but he begins to speak, and you surprisingly listen.

"Look, I'm not trynna be creepy or anything, okay? I don't mean to offend you. It's just like... you're... untouchable. Y'know? You're the amazing devil hunter everyone looks up to. At the same time, seeing you like this... It's like a reminder that you're human. A pretty one. It makes me think we're not so different. I could be as awesome as you someday, I guess. I still... respect you a lot. Whether you fulfill the favor or not."

Your demeanor softens as he rambles. Denji sure says a lot of things that piss you off, but this touches your cold heart a little. You sigh, pulling his hand off your wrist and opening the bathroom door. For a second, Denji seems dejected, thinking you're about to leave. However, you simply peek through the hallway, making sure nobody else is home before shutting the bathroom door again.

"Fine." You grumble. You did owe him a favor, after all, and you're a woman of your word. "Just for a second, okay?" Denji's face lights up, and he nods vigorously. You roll your eyes. The hands that once tightly gripped your towel drop. Your towel drops along with them, bunching up on the ground. You'll have to get another as soon as Denji is finished oogling you.

But Denji isn't gawking like you thought he would be. He's observing, respectfully. His eyes are scanning over your chest, looking as though he will need to remember this for the rest of his life. Studying you. His gaze drops from your chest, making sure he gets a good look at everything. He lifts a finger, rotating it, indicating he wants you to turn around. You scoff, but comply, shifting so that your back is facing him.

"Are you done yet?" You huff, looking into the mirror to see what he's doing. He's still analyzing your body, taking a step closer to get a better look. You can't help but feel embarrased. Nobody has ever seen you like this before. You've never had time for romance or silly relationships. You've always been too busy being the best.

"You're beautiful." Denji exhales, his eyes glimmering. You turn around to face him again. He's much closer than you remember him being. Your heart picks up and you feel the heat rush to your face again. "Can I... touch?"

"That was not part of the deal!" You groan, but his compliments have softened you. Besides, it's not like this will ever happen again, so why not let him have his fun? You shrug, lifting your arms ever so slightly. "Whatever. Knock yourself out, buddy."

Denji licks his lips, lifting his hands until they're nearly touching your chest. He pauses for a moment, looking back into your eyes for another sign of approval. You roll your eyes and nod. He smiles, his large hands finally grasping your breasts. At first, he's a little rough, and a squeak escapes your throat.

"Ah- Gentle." You whine. His touch lightens as he continues to massage. Between his fingers, he suddenly pinches your nipples. You gasp, jumping slightly at the sudden sensation. "D-Denji-?" He groans, getting down onto his knees and pushing your back into the bathroom door. Suddenly, his lips are locked around your right breast, his tongue swiping around the tender area.

You want to scold him. You want to remind him that this was not part of the deal, but somehow, you don't mind it too much. You're actually enjoying this a little too much. Denji's left hand is still planted on your right breast, kneading it lightly. His other hand begins to travel down your side, pausing at your waist. His thumb rubs circles into your bare skin, which goosebumps are now forming over. With a small pop, lip mouth releases you.

"Is this okay, Miss Y/N?" He says, barely above a whisper. "You can tell me to stop." Surely, he must know what he's doing. He must know the conflict he's causing in your mind. With him on his knees, kneeling in front of you and looking up with such pleading eyes, you feel so drawn to seeing what he does next.

"N-No. It's fine. This is fine. You can... continue." You say, embarrassed. He smiles, his sharp white teeth flashing at you before he lifts you by the waist. Both his arms are wrapped around you, and you grip his hair to stabilize yourself. "H-Hey! Woah-" You're about to complain, but he sets you down at the edge of the sink, his hands finding your thighs.

He caresses you so delicately. It feels comforting to be treated gently. So many people assume you're so tough, and you can handle not being treated softly. Denji felt different. He carefully spread your legs, peppering kisses up your thighs. You bite your lip, growing anxious and embarrassed.

"Relax, Miss Y/N. I don't bite." He smiled, his hands sliding up your legs and finally reaching your wet core. He pushes his thumb against your clit, a little too hard. You jump, grapping his wrist. He nods, easing his touch and rubbing circles on your sensitive bud. "Better?"

"Mhmm..." You hum, releasing his wrist. His head lowers between your thighs, pausing for a moment before his tongue presses against you. For a moment, you wonder how this escalated so quickly, but it's difficult to think while Denji laps up your arousal. Your legs squeeze his head as he continues.

You bite your lip, trying not to let the whimpers and moans fall from your throat. It's embarrassing. It's all just so embarrassing. You can feel how warm your face is. In a way, it's a little difficult to fully enjoy the moment with how your mind races. Maybe he noticed this, because he lifts his head, spreading your legs apart so he can lift himself further to meet your gaze.

"You can relax, Miss Y/N." You find yourself in such a position so that now, his clothes hips are pressed between your legs. His strong arms are wrapped around you, landing on your upper waist while he decorates your neck in kisses and marks.

"Calling me Miss makes me sound old. Just Y/N is fine..." You exhale as he finds your sweet spot, licking and sucking on your soft skin. Suddenly, you feel the press of his sharp teeth on you, piercing your flesh. You yelp, slapping his shoulder. "Hey! I thought you said you didn't bite?" You grumble. He chuckles, his hot breath brushing your shoulder.

"I'm sorry Y/N, you just feel so delicate like this..." He licks up some spots of blood from the bite mark he just created. "I never would've dreamed I could have you so vulnerable like this." His voice suddenly seems so low, and husky. Usually, this comment would've tremendously offended you, but it was true. You'd allowed yourself to be exposed to this man, who you had considered an immature annoyance only an hour earlier.

"Y-Yeah yeah don't get used to it. I'm feeling generous today." You flush, turning your warm face away from him. Although you never imagined yourself being intimate with someone, you never could've fathomed that you would be so submissive. Anyone who knew you saw you as a dominating spirit.

"Well, if you're feeling generous, let's see how much I can get away with..." Denji teased, leaning in closer to you for a kiss. You hesitated for a moment. You've never kissed someone before. What if you did it wrong? No, not possible. You were always the best at everything you did. Still, why did your heart race so rapidly? Why were you so anxious?

You gulp, leaning into his lips. They're surprisingly soft. There were awkward moments where your teeth bumped together, or your rhythm was off. It was definitely a learning curve, but soon, you were synced in a passionate kiss. Your fingers intertwined with the strands of his hair, tugging on it slightly. He groaned, pressing himself into you further.

Your arousal was soaking through his pants, only causing the prominent bulge beneath them to ache and twitch more. His hands explored your body as if he would be tested on it, studying every part of you. Suddenly, he pulled away from the kiss, his cheeks pink and eyes filled with desire.

"Y/N." He whined your name, sending shivers down your spine. It seemed rather unfair that you were completely nude in front of him, and he was still fully dressed. You began to unbutton his shirt, his well-built chest slowly revealing itself to you.

"Yes?" You whisper, pulling his shirt off and allowing it to land on the partially wet floor. It could always be washed later. Right now, all you wanted was for him to get undressed. You reach for his belt, and he watches as you fiddle with the buckle. Slowly, but surely, all his remaining clothing is left in a pile on the floor. He matches you in your nudity.

"I've never done anything like this before." He admits. You smile, grateful that at least you aren't alone in your newness to the situation. "I respect you, a lot. Like, a lot a lot... I want you to feel good."

"I haven't done anything like this either, if that wasn't already obvious." You say softly. His eyes widen with surprise. This only makes you more nervous. He wouldn't back out now, right? He'd better not leave you high and dry.

"R-Really? I wouldn't have expected that from someone as awesome as you." Though there were so many ways you could've interpreted that, you chose to take it as a compliment. Besides, you were growing impatient.

"Really... Now... Can we change that?" You ask, your legs wrapping around him, bringing his cock to your core. He was already twitching and oozing with desire for you. He nods vigorously before gripping your hips. His nails dug into you slightly, but you didn't care. You were too focused on how he lines himself up with you.

"Are you super sure, Miss Y/N?" He asks. You appreciate how much he seems to care about getting your consent. You nod, your hands finding a comfortable resting position wrapping around his neck. "Say it."

"I'm sure." The way he demands verbal confirmation from you makes your heart skip a beat. Before you can say another word, he pushes himself all the way into you. You gasp, a tinge of pain pinching through you. You felt stretched; Filled.

You didn't need to tell him to give you a moment to adjust. You could tell it took a lot out of him to hold himself back. He couldn't contain his twitching, which caused you to shudder every time. You saw the beads of sweat beginning to form on his forehead as he focused on his breathing.

Fortunately, the pain was quick to fade, and suddenly you couldn't imagine feeling as empty as you did before again. You shift your hips slightly, feeling his tip press against a particularly sensitive spongy spot inside you. His breath hitches and his nails press harder into your hips.

"Y/N..." He growls, warning you that if you continue to tease him with your little movements, he wouldn't be able to hold back. Maybe that's exactly what you want. You continue to roll your hips, baiting him with your small motions. "Fuck. Y/N."

You felt him draw out of you a bit, leaving you missing the feeling of being full. However, just as quickly as he had pulled away, he thrusted back into you. This time, you felt nothing, but pleasure. He repeated this motion, pumping deep inside you continuously. Your grip on him tightened as you brought yourself closer, raggedly breathing in his ear.

He chuckles, pulling out of you fully, and picking you up off the counter. You have a moment of confusion before he sets you on the ground, turning you around so that you're facing the mirror. He pins your hands behind your back, your chest pressed against the counter as he pushes back inside you.

You see your lewd expression, and the blush spreading your cheeks. You also see Denji's expression, full of pleasure and a hint of something... possessive? He continues to pound into you, the sound of slapping skin echoing in the room, along with the muffled moans you're trying to contain.

"C'mon princess, let me hear those pretty noises." Denji growls. It feels so out of character for him, but it only makes you more desperate. You allow your moans and whimpers to spill out, seeing just how much he enjoys it based on his face in the mirror. "That's right. Such a good slut for me."

With one hand still holding your wrists, his other travels to your scalp, grabbing a handful of your hair and tugging it back. As your head lifts, you can really see yourself in the mirror. You can see the way your body bounces with every thrust. You can see the bites and hickies on your neck. You don't even have the mind to think about how you'll cover them later.

"Ngh, you're so beautiful like this." He groans, his moans growing louder alongside yours. He releases your wrist, allowing you to use your hands to stabilize yourself against the counter while your legs tremble. Now, another slapping sound fills the room as he smacks your ass, causing you to jump and tighten around him. He gasps, repeating the action. "Fuck. You're so tight... Squeezing around me... You're so good Y/N..."

Your name and the praise rolls of his tongue so naturally, He struggles to get the words out, groaning and huffing as you could tell him release was coming close. You smirk, glad to be bringing him so much pleasure. His mind must be under the same fog yours endures. Denji frees your hair from his hand, bringing his chest down against your back, reaching a whole new angle as he picks up in speed.

His grip finds its way around your throat as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear. You feel a pressure building inside you, coming closer and closer to that pressure releasing with every pump. You feel light, your moans growing louder and louder, encouraging Denji to continue.

"A-Ah- Denji- I can't-" You begin, the words barely falling from your lips between your bodies colliding. He lets out a whine, his thrusts growing sloppier and sloppier. This doesn't matter, though, as you've already come so close to the edge of your climax.

"G-Go ahead. Cum for m-me, good girl~" This sends you over the edge the pressure finally releasing. Your breath quickens as the feeling washes over you. With a couple more thrusts, Denji pulls out of you, finishing on your thighs.

He lets go of your neck, only to wrap his strong arms around your waist as you both catch your breath. You see his tranquil expression in the mirror, eyes shut as his chest heaves. You can see yourself too, disheveled hair and marks across your neck. This was definitely more than your deal entailed, but you don't mind. You don't regret a single moment.

"Wow. That was... radical." Now he's back to being irritating. You roll your eyes, pushing him away from you as you search for where your towel went. He watches you tremble as you pick up your towel, wrapping yourself in it carefully. Your whole-body aches now, and you remember his cum dripping down your legs. You groan with annoyance, debating taking another shower to wash it, and the sweat, away.

"I hope you know this was a one-time thing. This won't happen again." You grumble. Despite your behavior, you were actually quite pleased. It was almost as if this washed away a weight of stress on your shoulders. Little did you know, this would most definitely not be a one-time thing.

"Y-Yeah. Right. Of course." He looks down, seemingly a bit disappointed. "...Was I... at least satisfactory?" He asks, a nervous grin on his face. He was definitely more than satisfactory. This was obvious with the way you shook as you walked. Still, you nodded. In some situations, a little praise was necessary to keep him motivated. This felt no different.

"Yes. You were... Satisfactory. Thank you, Denji." It felt awkward to say, and suddenly your mind brought you back to all the praise Denji had been whimpering in your ear. You blushed again, looking away from him as he began to dress himself again.

A comfortable silence filled the bathroom as he dressed himself, and you tried to clean yourself with some tissues. In a way, you were grateful for the cockroach showing up when it did. You were grateful that Denji happened to be home. You were grateful that Aki and Power were out. Just as you finished your thought, a loud pounding began at the bathroom door, and you jumped.

"Are you guys done fucking yet?!" Power's voice bellowed through the door. Your face grew pale as you flashed a shocked look at Denji. From the look he gave you, he also had no idea that Power was home. "I need to pee!"

"What the fuck Denji. I thought you said Power wasn't home!" You hiss, turning your attention to the door. "Be out soon Power! We weren't... We weren't doing that! Denji was just helping me with a cockroach!" You explain, which is half true.

Through the thin apartment walls, you hear Aki chuckle. Dear god, he was back already too? Denji is finally dressed, and you are wrapped in your towel when you open the door, met with a skeptical looking Power.

"You so totally were fucking. I could hear you!" She pushed past you and Denji, shoving you both out of the bathroom and slamming the door. You rack your brain for more excuses you could make, but then Aki appears at the end of the hall.

"We both could. These walls are quite thin, you know." He complains, looking you up and down. "Denji, your shirt buttons are unaligned." He sighs before meeting my eyes with an annoyed glint. "Y/N. Your neck." He turns, presumably making his way back to the kitchen he came from.

You shoot a look at Denji, who is nervously checking his shirt. You groan, brushing past him to get to your room. You just hope to God that news of this doesn't make its way to anyone else, especially not Makima.

[silver-itallics]

Last Light

Warnings: canon typical violence, heavy angst, hurt no comfort, you guys will be mad at me

a/n: I was thinking about when Leigh mentioned in the saw commentary that someone wrote a monologue from Lawrence's point of view after leaving the bathroom and I wanted to write one for Adam

"I'm a liar?"

"I wouldn't lie to you."

Liar, lies. Seems like either way, Adam is getting screwed over.

He sits in the dark, dingy bathroom, his eyes still struggling to adjust. His throat is raw and aching from all the screaming and crying. Not even the hardest sex could have done that to him.

God, he's really gonna die having fucked one person.

All of his relationships were mediocre, even the platonic ones. Scott treated him like shit, the guy probably hasn't even noticed that he's gone.

Has anyone?

Lawrence is someone that would be noticed, he's got a wife and kids for fucks sake.

"I've got a family too, Lawrence! I don't talk to them anymore, that's my mistake. A mistake I'd like to fix."

One of the last things he remembers at the apartment is scribbling "Call mom?" On a crumpled post it and sticking it to the wall. The paper has probably fallen down by now. Forgotten.

Are his parents even looking for him?

Probably not. They probably haven't noticed either.

Everything that Adam does ends up screwing him in the end, just like this. But he can't really blame anyone but himself, can he? Not even $200 was worth being stuck in this bathroom. Doesn't even soften the fact that he'll probably be here forever.

The money was meant to go for his food. Not a camera, not developing fluid, not even that shiny new pokemon game Adam wanted. Food.

A necessity he barely even had.

"Why? Call it my need to eat."

He remembers snapping at Lawrence like it was the most obvious answer. But food is a luxury even Adam can't afford. The guy lives off of ramen noodles and sodas from the gas station. Sometimes he even wonders why he never gained any weight since he ate such shit.

His mom was never the greatest cook, but he'd take soggy meatloaf and unseasoned mashed potatoes any day.

At the thought, Adam's stomach rumbles. His guts ache from hunger, but he's not a stranger to it. That's usually how his day goes.

He can't even blame Jigsaw for trapping him here. But in all honesty, Adam has done so much self sabotaging, that he's probably done worse to himself than the man that left him here.

He's felt worse betrayal than when the dead man stood up, peeled the fake skin off his skull and left him here.

"Game over!"

Dead man. Adam squints in the darkness, trying to make out Zep's corpse. He's not even sure why. The first time he saw a dead body, or what he thought was one, he puked his guts out into the tub. Couldn't even keep down his latest meal.

He'll probably starve even quicker now.

The room smells like blood, and his fingers are sticky from the same substance. Not only is he a voyeur, he's a killer. Maybe his last girlfriend was right: he's too angry.

Adam isn't very good at anatomy, at least the human side of it. But he knows he broke through layers of skin and bone when he'd crushed through the hospital orderly's skull.

"It's the rules!"

Knowing now, he feels guilty. Awful, even. Guy probably had a family too, even if he was a bit of a creep. Where do you draw the line of deserving a family? What's so bad that you no longer are worthy of someone related by blood? Adam's probably the worst person to ask that.

He'd stormed out on his parents after a petty argument, an excuse to leave. One that he'd been wanting to have since he was seventeen. Somehow, he'd convinced himself that they wouldn't accept him, even if they let him drop out of high school and didn't even call the cops when he left. But was that tolerance or pure disinterest?

Maybe he's not a total waste of time, since his mom had called not long before he got his power knocked out the same way he was.

"Adam, your father's not angry anymore."

Lawrence had a home, a family. A good one, too. The pictures he saw of Diana and Alison made him crack a smile. At least before the one with them tied up. He shivers, probably both from disgust and blood loss.

His shoulder aches, oozing blood all over his shitty thrift store clothes. Adam understands why Doctor Gordon left. He has some place to go, people to welcome him home with open arms. Most places Adam went, he wasn't even noticed.

He kicks with his right foot in anger, the chain rattling as he does. The metal bites into his skin and the amount of pain he's in is just frustrating at this point. Adam screams, but his voice is raw and broken.

As much as he hopes the doctor will come back for him, at least he has half the brain to know that Lawrence probably won't make it. The man that he's had the first physical touch from in months is probably bleeding out in the sewers, and there's nothing he can do about it.

He doesn't even have a choice to cut off his foot like the doctor did. Sure, the blood loss will probably kill him, but Adam is sick of waiting around for something to happen. A job to drop, a phone call.

But he can't even do that.

The hacksaw he found in the toilet had snapped in half. A result of his ever consuming anger. Seems like everything he does leads back to that.

"I see a strange mix of someone who's angry, yet apathetic. But mostly just pathetic."

If Adam isn't angry at the world, he's angry with himself. He feels like a waste of space on the good days and a tumor on the face of the earth on the bad ones. At least with photography he felt like he had a purpose, even if it was supplying creeps and weirdos with material. He wasn't really helping anyone, was he? Even Tapp ended up dead.

But Lawrence helps people. Even if he thought the guy was initially a jerk, Adam admires him. Misses the man's blood stained hands as he cupped his cheeks.

"I wanted to be a vet."

That way, he'd benefit the world somehow. Even if he was pulling tennis balls out of dogs' throats or cleaning up puke every day. He'd much rather smell vomit, as he's getting quite sick of the coppery scent of blood.

"That's nonsense. I've seen kids with brain cancer graduate high school from a hospital bed."

"They got further than I ever did."

Adam has been pretty able bodied his whole life. While he'd consider it a nuisance that his body doesn't match up with his own view of himself, that's not a disability.

Maybe his parents wouldn't even mind, maybe they'd help him with the cost of surgery and injections. But he hadn't even told them. His parents barely know who he is. Adam barely knows himself.

"What do voyeurs see when they look in the mirror?"

Nothing. The answer is nothing.

He's like a leech, sucking the energy and luck out of everyone around him.

Now he's left to sit in his own grave- metaphorically and literally. He probably won't even have the luxury of being buried or cremated.

Hopefully someone will come around and put him out of his misery. Like a calf with two heads or a dog with rabies.

But until then, he's left to wait.

[currentlyfckingurmom]

Arachnoid (part 1)

(Yelena Belova and Female OC)

PART 1: And So It Begins

Aim. Shoot. Swing. Release. Aim. Shoot. Swing. Release. Aim. Shoot. Swing. Release. Aim. Shoot. Swing-

"Oh shit!" Rory exclaims as she narrowly misses a bird in the dark city sky. "Sorry dude!"

The Arachnoid swings onto a rooftop to peer into the alley below, hearing a commotion coming from down the dark corridor.

She sees two small women effortlessly fighting off four much larger men. Before she even has the chance to intervene, the fight is over.

"I totally had that under control," the blonde one complains.

"Yeah, right," the redhead scoffs.

"Сука."

"Ooh, Russians, how fun," Rory whispers to herself.

"Did you hear that?" the blonde asks, reaching for her gun.

She cringed and reluctantly reveals herself. "Uh, hey, hi there," she waves. "How are y'all tonight? Those were some pretty cool moves right there, I gotta say. Oh hey, you're Black Widow right?! Big fan, truly." She rambles on.

"Who the hell are you?" they ask in unison.

"Oh right. Allow me to properly introduce myself." She drops down from the roof, into the alley next to them. "I'm Arachnoid." She definitely doesn't puff her chest out as she says the alias.

"Who?" The blonde asks disinterestedly.

"What are you, like, a fake Spiderman?"

"No! I've been around much longer than that little copycat. He tries all he wants but he could never be all of this," she gestures to herself with frustration.

"Right, okay. So what are you doing here?" Black Widow asks.

"Oh, well, I just heard some commotion and came to investigate. Seems like this is Avengers business and you have it totally under control, so I'll just see myself out," she salutes. The Russians go to speak and she cuts them off, "And, no, I won't tell anyone that I saw anything. My lips are sealed."

Rory walks backward out of the alley, pointing at the blonde and making a 'call me' gesture before taking off into the city.

"Ooh, the spider likes you," she hears behind her, followed by a smack. Rory laughs at the situation, wishing she had gotten the blonde woman's name.

Several hours later, feeling utterly exhausted and content with it, Rory climbs back through her apartment window. She peels off her mask and ruffles her medium length hair, blowing a loose strand out of her face. She turns on her stereo, singing and dancing around as she stumbles out of her suit and into the shower.

After her shower, she throws on some boxers and a baggy t-shirt before climbing onto her fire escape. She opens her laptop and logs in as she lights up a preroll.

She blows out a cloud of smoke as she opens a familiar file, tinkering with the prototype design. She spends the next forty minutes like this before she gets hungry and goes inside to cook fettuccine alfredo. The best dish to have at 3am, if you ask her.

In four hours, she'll wake up to start another day of monotonous work and exhilarating crimefighting. But right now, she's got her weed and her alfredo, and she's convinced she couldn't be any fucking happier.

MEANWHILE

"So are we gonna talk about what happened back there?"

"You mean the mysterious chick in the black tights who was hitting on you? I was wondering when we'd get to that," Natasha hums. They had returned to Yelena's apartment after the mission to go over the new intel they had gathered.

"Hmm, yes, very funny, сестра (sister). Have you heard of this person before now? Are we sure they aren't a threat to the mission? If they interfere with freeing the Widows, I will kill them."

"Yes, unfortunately. Arachnoid has been on SHIELD's radar for a while now. She's not lying; she has been around longer than Spiderman. She's a bit of a loner. A lot more stealthy than Peter Parker. I'll get SHIELD's files on her. But no, she's not a threat. Not intentionally, anyway, but she's been known to get herself into sticky situations without realizing it."

"Interesting," Yelena mumbles, taking a swig of her cold beer.

"That's all you're gonna say? Alright, well if I can get her number, are you gonna call her?" Natasha jokes.

"No. Do not be ridiculous, Natasha."

"Oh please, I saw you checking out her ass when she walked away."

"That is so not true!" she objects. "I was looking for weapons!"

"And what did you find? Anything dangerous?"

"боже мой (oh my god)"

"So how about we do a little digging on our new friend? I mean, just in case she poses a threat to the mission." Natasha is making excuses, and they both know it, but some part of Yelena wants to know more about the masked vigilante.

"Alright. But only for the sake of the mission," Yelena emphasizes.

"Of course."

~

Natasha is called into Director Fury's office the next day.

"So I hear you've been looking into our little friend, the Arachnoid."

"And how did you hear this, Nick?" Natasha smiles.

"I hear everything, Romanoff. Let's get to the point, shall we? We've been looking into the Arachnoid for years. It's about time we get to know who she really is, don't you think?"

"I'm inclined to agree, Director. She's been lurking in the shadows for years, undetected by the press and the public. That takes some skill. Might be someone we should watch out for."

"Or someone we should have on our team," he counters with a raised brow and a smirk. Natasha returns it and accepts the file Director Fury hands her, leaving his office with a nod.

~

"Boss, it appears that someone is doing some digging into your files."

"Do you know who?" Rory asks the robotic voice.

"It appears to be coming from SHIELD. Would you like me to hack into their database?"

"Oh, EDNA, you know me so well. I'd love that."

"On it." The voice resumes a few minutes later. "It seems that Agent Natasha Romanoff, code name 'Black Widow', has been accessing your files quite frequently in the past 24 hours."

"Huh. I've got the Black Widow looking into me. Think I've finally made it to the big leagues, EDNA?"

"Yes, it appears so. You will likely be dead within a week."

"Okay, well, that was just rude."

Masterlist

[lifeinkinder]

I'm going to do some rambling/processing of Little Man's second opinion and just general medical stuff.

His second opinion was wonderful. And I'm not just saying that because I needed it to be good because I didn't feel comfortable where he was supposed to have surgery.

He has had a ton of EKGs and echos. Like so so many. But the treatment of him during those procedures told me already we were in the right place. The person who did the EKG was so careful with him. She didn't want to touch him because her hands were cold and she didn't want him to get cold. She was so worried about pinching him with the leads. And she used an adhesive removal pad to take the stickies off. When I tell you that in all the times he's had an EKG that's never happened, I mean it. Usually, they just peel the stickies off and go about their life.

Then came the echo. The tech who did that was AMAZING. She pushed the stroller so I could carry little man instead of doing both. She was super mindful of making sure I knew where I could sit and making sure I was comfortable. She explained everything she was doing to me as she was doing it. Which, like again, he's had a LOT of echos, both pre and postnatally so wasn't necessary. She talked to him, soothed him when he seemed like he was going to fuss. I made a comment near the end, mostly to him, that it looked like he was getting upset. And she immediately stopped. She was like does he need a break and I said no, we've still got like 5-10 minutes. Sure enough near the end of that 10 minutes, he lost it and she immediately stopped. She was like you hold him, I'll go show the pictures to the doctor and see if we need anymore. She turned down the lights and left. Then when she came back in with another tech because more images were needed, they spoke in whispers because little man was asleep. And the 2nd tech sat on the bed so I could hold him while he slept and they got the images they needed. I've never...we've never...he's never been treated that way. Usually when he gets an echo, the tech doesn't interact with him at all. Unless I'm talking to him, the room is completely silent (because they don't even turn on the TV for him and not that I want him to have screen time, but I feel like it's a called for distraction when echos are an hour long and he has to be still and not cry).

When we saw the cardiologist, she addressed 80% of my questions before I even asked them.

I asked specifically about the stent he got in June. At his follow up for that stent, his cardiologist said they wanted to do the repair 6-8 weeks after it was placed because of how deep in his right ventricle it was. But that isn't what she put in her visit notes so I reached out to her about it and she basically said we didn't have that conversation and what she meant was repair at 6-8 months (which had always been the plan). The cardiologist at this second opinion said, no it's a concern. It's nearly touching his tricuspid valve. It hasn't caused damage yet, but if we leave it in and don't repair soon, damage could happen. And she validated my frustration with the conflicting info regarding that stent!

He's actually the perfect weight for repair. Waiting until he's 18 lbs (the original hospital's plan) doesn't change the risk level at all. In fact if we did wait, we might increase the risk because of the location of stent 3. Plus there is some neurodevelopment research that I don't even pretend to understand that supports earlier repair for complex congenital heart defects (which tetralogy is).

So we're switching hospitals for surgery. And he'll have his full repair by the end of October. He should be in patient for about 5 days if all goes well, but we'll talk about the risks at his pre-op appointment. They think the surgery will go well and that he'll recover well, but of course, I'm concerned because it's open heart surgery on my 6 month old.

I am so glad I got this second opinion. The drive was fine. I got lost once when we got to Chicago because my GPS decided to turn itself off. And then once leaving Lurie because my GPS kept refreshing my route like even when I was stopped at stop lights. So then I ended up on Lower Wacker which was awful. And more stressful because my GPS was like turn here, turn here, turn here. And like that's not an option because those streets aren't streets here in this underground road you led me to. Once we were out of Chicago, it was fine. Little Man was DONE and cried pretty much for an hour of the drive. He was overtired but wouldn't go to sleep and I couldn't do anything really because we'd already stopped 3 times.

[fourseasonsfigs]

Fig Stands

My fig stands arrived a couple days ago in my big sea shipment package, which was very exciting. I've been waiting for these for a very long time! I was so excited that I felt the need to post about them. I realize this post could be of fairly limited interest to all but the most die-hard figthusiasts, but there's still some pics of cute figs in it to tempt you (I hope)!

A Typical Problem in the Day of a Figthusiast:

The majority of my figs can stand on their own, but a not-insubstantial number range from very precarious on their little feet to totally unable to stand up without some assistance.

For instance, these little guys, if you recall them from this post.

That one tiny foot does not in ANY way balance OR support their big ol' heads, and they need some significant help to stand upright.

I had bought some Museum Putty/Wax, but I didn't want to semi/permanently stick the figs' feet down to the acrylic ziggurat stands that I put my figs on, because I want to be able to pick the figs up and look at them. I wasn't really sure what to do, and was amassing a whole bunch of figs that were just lying in temporary storage waiting for me to figure it out.

One day several months ago, I was browsing one of my fig progress groups and saw someone posting pictures of round disks for the figs to stand on. She had a purchase link, but it was some sales platform that I had never heard of and can't access at all (I can't recall the name).

So, I took myself to Taobao and started browsing around. It wasn't actually too hard to find a listing, so I placed an order for about 10 bucks worth through Superbuy, and waited for them to arrive. And waited. And waited. Almost three weeks later, Superbuy got back to me saying the seller said they were out of stock and refunded me.

So that was a bummer. I went back on Taobao and found a different seller and put the order in:

These are acrylic disks 4 mm thickness x 4 cm diameter, which seemed like the most reasonable size, and a pack of 10 was about 72 cents at the time. I bought 12 packs of them for $8.64. Due to their weight, I opted to have Superbuy send them to me via Matson sea shipping, which is slower than air shipping but much, much cheaper for heavy things.

These shipped from the seller quickly within a couple days, and then sat in my SB warehouse for some time while I was waiting for some other artbooks to ship. Finally, I had enough stuff to put a package together, so out they went. This sea shipment actually arrived the fastest ever - 21 days, which is a record for speed for them to me.

Here they are! This is one half of the order. The disk on the left is unpeeled - I haven't peeled off the protective clear layer that's on both sides that keeps the acrylic from being scratched. The middle one is partially peeled, so you can see it in progress, and the last disk on the right is fully peeled on both sides. You can see it is a lot clearer than the one on the left.

Here's another shot of the disks - unpeeled to the left, and fully peeled to the right. It's perfectly clear and transparent.

Here's all my fig-holding paraphernalia. It turns out the Museum Putty doesn't hold all that well for fig purposes - it's not sticky enough to really grab onto the very small feet of these figs. It'll work in some circumstances, but too easily detaches. The Museum Wax works really well, as it's quite sticky, but it also gets everywhere, and I have to continually wash my hands and clean up a bit of a tacky residue very carefully. It's just hard to handle.

I have not yet found a separate source to buy the stickers independently, but I'll need to as I don't actually have a ton of them. They work great, but like any type of stickers, aren't meant for constant sticking and unsticking, since they will deform (they're stretchy). Since they do, in fact, work very well, they adhere the fig pretty tightly to a surface. I don't like tugging at the figs to get them to detach from wherever they've been stuck. Seems like a good way to break a fig.

The fig stickers come in different configurations/sizes, and sellers sometimes include a few in the boxes when they send the figs. This fig's foot is quite small, so here I am measuring his feet to the right sticker size. This one I have him on (the most common size and shape) is too big for that little sneaker.

These little ones are just right!

I generally peel off the sticker on one side and stick it to their feet, and then go do something else for a while to give the sticker time to bond with their foot. If you try to peel off the other side right away, I've found you end up peeling the sticker off the foot instead, and then it's easy to mess up the sticker trying to get it positioned back exactly right.

Once I give the sticker a little bit of time, I come back and the other side usually peels off without too much difficulty. Then, it's just carefully positioning the fig on the base and pressing it firmly down to get it to adhere.

I rapidly found there's a wrong way to press:

This seemed like the most obvious way to make sure the sticker sticks firmly, and it's what I did at first, before quickly realizing that was putting way too much strain on the delicate neck area.

Instead, what I've learned to do is gently grasp the torso and press it down to adhere it to the base.

And there we go! Running figs on the loose! Go get him, Junjun!

[link to Master Fig Index if you want some actual fig posts!]

[unhingedexperimenter]

"Hello, yes. It's me again. I wanted to apologize for my rude behavior. I hadn't meant to interrupt you and Henry." Robert's expression soured slightly. He didn't want to call it a date. Rober was still feeling jealous from the memory. Dr.Two-Brains stared at the other man as if he had just explained the most bizarre thing to him. "You found my lair, came to said lair, to apologize to me? For interrupting my date with Henry?" Robert cleared his throat at that. "Yes. That is exactly what I was planning. I couldn't help but feel guilty over that." Dr.Two-Brains didn't seem very convinced by the others' words. "How did you manage to find my lair?" Honestly, the mad scientist felt like he already had the answer to that. "I simply asked around a bit. They had given me the directions to this warehouse to find you." Of course. He didn't expect any other answer other than the citizens of Fair City to point strangers in the direction of what should be his secret lair. Though it wasn't very secret, he still felt second-hand embarrassment over how trusting and gullible some of the city's residents could get. "Well, thank you. You were just being a concerned friend, weren't you? I understand that. Especially with my appearance and my reputation as the city's top villain." The doctor wasn't expecting Dr.Two-Brains to be so reasonable. If anything, he was expecting the villain's first reaction to close the warehouse door on him. "Yes, exactly. I haven't seen him in a good while as well. When I saw Henry, I was happy to see my old friend. A familiar face in a new place." There was something about the way Robert spoke about Henry that bothered him. He sounded so fond, so affectionate when it came to the teacher. "Is that all? Anything else you came here for?" Just before Hyde got into said bathroom, Charlie had managed to catch Hyde. He was given a henchman's uniform and a towel. Manny joined his fellow henchman. He smiled with genuine friendliness towards the criminal. "Clean clothes for you to use. It doesn't feel good wearing goopy clothes. Believe us, we've been there." They were much too kind to Hyde. Even after he had tricked them. Hyde quickly thanked them before getting into the bathroom. Grumbling could be heard coming from Hyde from inside. He had to peel off his now sticky and goop stained clothing and place them in a pile on the bathroom floor. He quickly examined the clothing that they had given him to use. "Really? I'm going to have to wear this? After I just got my brand new outfit?" Hyde pouted at that. "You did ask for it by messing around with Dr.Two-Brains' devices." He huffed in annoyance at that. "Yeah? Well, you're going to wash my goopy clothes for me." He stuck his tongue out at his counterpart. It wasn't the most crude gesture Hyde had made at Henry. “I always do, your point?” It only made him all the more irritated since it didn't get the reaction he wanted out of Henry. It took a good scrubbing to get a majority of goop off. It was futile to try and wash it all off at once. If Hyde had tried, his skin would be scrubbed raw. Once he felt comfortable enough, the criminal stepped out of the little shower and dried himself off. He could still feel a thin film of goop on his skin but that was the best he could do. A defeated sigh came from the blond as he put on the uniform. It was surprisingly not too big on him. Huh. They must have these in different sizes just in case. Hyde posed in front of the mirror. “I hope Whiskers knows I'm just wearing these because my clothes were gooped. I am no one's henchman!” Henry didn't respond to that. Knowing Hyde would get himself riled up. He noticed that the goop left his hair all messed up. Even more so than it usually was. The goop acted somewhat like a hair gel, making it stand up everywhere. Thankfully Hyde had found an elastic band to tie his hair back. “Look at what I am reduced to! Humiliated. Forced to wear these.” Henry shook his head. “Again, consequences to your own actions. It could have been easily avoided, you know.” That had earned a glare from Hyde.

@thecountoflondonfansite

(You can tag me on my tgs side blog. I also apologize but I know a few Scottish words. So to anyone reading this I apologize for the inaccuracy.) Becky Boxleitner noticed a change in the atmosphere as she and her pet monkey Bob walked into the sixth grade classroom. All of the students were excitedly chatting with one another. Becky and Bob exchanged confused looks at the scene. 'What is going on?' They both thought. Becky walked to where her friends Violet Heaslip, Rose Franklin, and Todd Scoops Ming were sitting, also joining in the excited yet low volume chattering. "Hey guys what's going on?" Becky asked her friends. They each turned their heads to greet their friend. "Hey Becky guess what, we're getting a new teacher for our class!" Scoops exclaimed. Becky looked surprised at the announcement. Bob also mimicked her facial expression. "Wait really? What happened to Miss Davis?" Becky asked, wondering what happened to their old teacher. It was just a week only into the new school year so a sudden teacher exchange was a complete shock to Becky especially since there were no announcements about it beforehand. "Miss Davis had to move back home because of a family emergency." Rose Franklin answered. "The principal had to scramble to find a new teacher to fill in for our class. It was all last minute stuff." Becky nodded in understanding of her friends' answers. It was a nice perk to be friends who were upcoming reporters. Soon the final bell rang which indicated for every student to take their seats. Becky took her place beside her best friend Violet and Bob plopped down next to her. Soon a man who looked to be in his mid 30s walked in and towards the desk. He had curly brown air, an arched nose, and reddish brown eyes. He wore a tan button-down shirt with a red vest as well as brown slacks and dark suede shoes. The man gave a pleasant and warm smile to all the students there. "Hello my name is Dr. Henry Jekyll and I will be your teacher for the school year." Becky and the other kids ears perked up as they took note of the man's accent. Even Tobey became slightly interested in his new teacher. None of them were sure where their new teacher was from. Dr. Jekyll gave a light chuckle as if he could sense their growing curiosity about him. He lightly clapped his hands together to gain their undivided attention and focus. "Well since this is my first time teaching here, why don't we all play a little game so we can all get better acquainted with each other. Here's what to do. One at a time, say your name and share a wee bit about yourself. Likes, family, interests and all that. I'll go first to show ya what ah mean. Again. My name is Dr. Henry Jekyll. I was born in Glasgow but ah moved to London where I attended university. I have a five year old wee lassie or daughter named Amber. I enjoy chemistry and reading on occasions. Now who would like to go next?" @unhingedexperimenter

Of course Tobey had taken the opportunity to place attention on himself and to have a reason to boast about himself. “My name is Tobey McCallister the third and I will be the most intelligent student you'll meet here.” The others had rolled their eyes, used to this kind of behavior from their peers. Becky seemed to be the most annoyed by it. Having been forced to put up with his destructive tantrums in the past. Henry smiled just as warmly as before. Unbothered by the obnoxious behavior that the boy had been displaying. Tobey had been going on about himself for a good few minutes before the teacher finally spoke up. “Ahem, yes. Thank you for that Mr. McCallister. Would anyone else like to tell me a bit about themselves as well?” No one could tell that behind the facade, Dr. Henry Jekyll was becoming more irritated by the moment. Not by the child but by the pest that refused to leave him be. Scoffing within his head at what they just heard. He didn't share the disembodied voice's opinion but wanted to give the other children a chance to introduce themselves as well. To the others' shock, Tobey seemed to have taken this well. Quickly going back to his desk with no issues. Becky was relieved at that. Soon the other children had started to introduce themselves to their new teacher with little to no issues. He seemed genuinely nice enough to her. This new teacher didn't seem like most of the adults within this city. Some she had to define words repeatedly for. Dr. Jekyll knew what he was teaching and knew his vocabulary. It was Violet who had brought Becky out from her own thoughts, calling her name. Waving a hand in front of her face. “Becky?” The girl smiled in an embarrassed manner. “Huh? Yes?” Violet smiled, patient with her best friend. “Why don't you introduce yourself now? Nearly everybody else already did.” She had given a surprised expression. Becky hadn't realized that she was so lost within her thoughts until then. She stood up and began speaking. “My name is Becky Boxleitner and I also like libraries,reading and Pretty Princess.” The presence that was grating at the teacher's nerves had deemed this too dull to enjoy. Leaving Dr. Jekyll be to his teaching. Well, getting to know his students. He was happy to see that they were engaged in these activities that were meant to break the ice. Though one student in particular had caught his attention the most. Becky. While she did seem rather bright, there was something strange about her behavior at times. Pausing whatever she was doing at the time to listen in on something. Thinking it went unnoticed. Even once looking alarmed and she made an excuse to go to the bathroom. He had allowed it. Feeling that it would've been better to have let her. It seemed…oddly familiar. As if he had seen that behavior somewhere before but couldn't figure out exactly where from. When the school day was finally over, Becky had gone to go home like the others. Dr. Jekyll had of course stayed behind to set more things up within his new classroom. Making a plan on exactly what he'll actually start teaching the next day. Though, the grating voice had returned to be a thorn in his side. “Come on. Leave this boring stuff alone. Leave it until tomorrow. I've been pent up for far too long. Let's have some fun.” This had earned an eye roll and a loud huff from the teacher. “No, I've got to get this done now. You will have enough time tonight. Just be patient until then.” A shadowy figure formed in front of Dr. Jekyll. A frown on its face. “But this is so extremely dull. I want to stretch my legs. I want to make myself known already.” Dr. Jekyll glared. “And that is precisely why I'm so hesitant to let you out so soon. At least let us get acclimated to our surroundings first.” The figure let out an annoyed groan. “You know you want this as much as I do. Otherwise you'd never have any actual fun in the sad and pathetic life you call yours.”

@thecountoflondonfansite

[undead-merman]

Based on that last selkie ask, I just about melt when I think about how earnest Robin and P!Sydney would be while trying to earn your coat, they would be so cute; but I would love to see just how badly it would go if Whitney or Kylar ever heard about PC's unique species trait, I mean, a sure fire way to keep their slut/the love of their life at their side forever and ever? PC wouldn't know what hit them, really

Not going to lie, wrote this really sleep deprived and editor was busy. Left out Whitney simply because I was in a wholesome writing mood.

Robin, Kylar, and Sydney with a Selkie GN- Reader

Robin

It happened in the early morning. It was going to get hot and Robin wanted to set up before it got hot. Plus, with more time spent out there, it was more money.

But you also happened to be resting. The sun had yet to come out. It was peaceful when the residents of this town were there to bother you, or worse. You lounged your coat on your lap and looked at the early morning stars.

You then could hear something running as you whipped your head around and saw a redhead holding a tablecloth with his face as red as his hair as he asked with a raised voice if you are alright. It was nearly unheard of for a gentle person like this in this town. It was almost funny.

He’s a gentle human, fretting over any wounds you might have just from being out in the sea, even little ones from bumping into rocks and getting a scuff. He offers to patch you up and give you real clothes. And if you accept, he'll take you to his room in the orphanage, sit you down, and disinfect each scratch. Even putting childish Band-Aids on them. He doesn’t seem to realize what you are.

But then he departs, asking if he can see you again. He’s so earnest and he means no harm, so why not? If you give any conditions to your meetup plans he agrees to anything really.

Every time you meet up, he's lit up with joy. He's telling you about the games he plays and is often trying to sneak you in so you can see them in person. He doesn’t catch on quickly but he does have suspicions, he just doesn't say anything about them.

When he sees you peel your seal skin off, and it’s likely long after he started spending time with you, coming early, he’s bashful about it, apologizing but telling you how amazing it is that you have these abilities. He asks you tons of questions, but during his bombardment, he suddenly holds your hand with the same blush on his face as when you met him. It's almost like he’s proposing. He promises to keep your secret.

After the discovery, he takes his time to look into the folklore more, and he’s filled with childlike wonder, looking over the library’s books, and he starts imaging you and him. Staying together forever? It would be a dream come true. But he would never want to steal your coat. Even the thought of it made him ill, let alone the idea of someone else taking it. Why not earn your coat the right way?

He starts to get a bit closer. He is trying his hardest to woo you in his own inexperienced way. Making you presents, offering sweet praise and feather light touches.

He does tell you his goal. His eyes are full of determination, but he puts his hand on yours, telling you he wants to earn your coat, your love. And he'll do what he can to keep you and your secret safe.

Kylar

It was another early morning with restless sleep. His room was stuffy and he needed fresh air. Going down to the beach, he spotted you. You had your coat half taken off and were nude in the cold early morning air.

He was instantly starstruck. You looked utterly splendid, and he had to cover his mouth before he made a noise and scared you off. He took to just kneeling near the rocks and watching you, biting his nails and trying to hold still. He doesn’t dare say anything, content to just watch you.

After his first encounter with you, he starts drawing you on everything he can get his hands on, book margins, sticky notes, his sketchbook, even his own skin. And he’s checking that same area where you were last every morning and night. He can’t stop thinking about you and every time he sees you, it’s euphoric, it’s healing and therapeutic.

Overnight, you became his muse. Every time he draws, he thinks of you and your perfect form, and he falls in love with you again and again every time he sees or remembers you. He can’t get you out of his head even if he wanted to.

He starts spending more time looking up more facts about selkies, he’s known a bit, but gets frustrated over not having enough information. He needs more, he needs more of you.

At some point, he starts thinking about how this might be a temporary case. That thought sent him spiraling. He hadn't even asked your name, and now he wants to tear his own hair out at the thought of you leaving and never coming back. But looking down at his knife, he knew he wasn't all powerless.

The next time you came to the beach, he was ready. You had placed your coat down on a nearby rock, as you always did, and stretched your cramped human limbs. He takes it. holding his face in it and taking deep and shaky breaths. Your scent was amazing, just like he expected, and he was shuttering as he wrapped it around himself. Still warm. He could cry right then. He was quite literally in your skin, and he could die happy right there.

He waited until you turned, and saw a stranger wrapped in your coat. Smiling while trembling He looked so happy as he held a knife.

He barked out with a shaky voice, clearly sounding underused but full of pride in his name, his undying love and admiration for you, and how happy he is to have you as a spouse.

He's not going to let that jacket back into your hands. Never. Not when you could swim away and he could never see you again. He wants to get married, right now if he can, all while still wrapped in your sea salt-scented coat. He's so excited to have you forever now.

Sydney

He never did anything like this. Never. But for some reason, something was coiling in him tight and he needed to come to the beach for some fresh air even if he was utterly exhausted. At least this early, no one bothered him. The town had a few hours of peace when most of the nightlife came to an end.

He was simply walking down the edge, not even paying attention, and the sounds of his walk were covered up by the wind and waves. He ended up colliding into you knocking you both over in a messy tangle of limbs.

He was a mess,, apologizing as he messily tried to stand up, only to fall on you again. Eventually, after a few awkward moments, you were able to split apart and when he got a good look at you, he froze. And it seemed like he was steaming in the cold air with how red and heated he got. He quickly offers you his jacket, stammering about how he didn’t mean to look but sees your seal skin coat on the ground by his feet.

He doesn't say anything about it. But it's the look in his eyes that screams that he's piecing it together. He suddenly gives you such a pleasant and genuine smile that you've never seen anyone from the town make. He promises to not tell a soul. But he's taken an interest in you. Asking if you could meet again. He doesn't force you. He just says he'll wait for you to come and if you don't, there are no hard feelings. However, he insists on you keeping his jacket.

The rest of that day, he tries to wrap his head around it, almost doubting that the meeting was even real. But because of the smell of the ocean so deeply clinging onto his skin after tumbling on you and how his jacket is gone, he's reminded that it's real.

When he waits for you, he comes early, and when he sees you swim up and peel off your coat, he turns to give you decency. But now he truly knows, without a shadow of a doubt.

He's curious about your life, asking questions a bit too quickly, but it doesn't take long for him to notice himself and reel it back in a bit. He's never pushing you to do anything you don't want to.

He often brings books to read with you as well as treats for you both to share, and he seems more relaxed now, even passing out the sand next to you sometimes. He doesn’t have the heavy dark circles under his eyes anymore since meeting you, and something about that feels special after he tells you how busy he is and all the responsibilities he has.

It takes a long time, but at some point he tells you his feelings for you. He’s even giving you one of the flowers you pointed out that was your favorite in the encyclopedia he brought you once. He’s holding himself together as best as he can, but even then, his confession is sweet, like poetry.

He doesn’t tell you, he won’t ever tell you, but he dreams of the day when you're ready to spend the rest of your life with him and you’ll accept him by offering him your coat. He wouldn't dream of asking for it, never wanting to scare you but he hopes you’ll trust him enough.

[kiridarling]

𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐂!

izuku midoriya | tw!guns, single mom!reader, bouncer!izuku, domestic stuffs, tit sucking, mommy!calling ah, AND daddy!calling oh my, breeding kink, breaking the bed (futon). minors dni!

— 5.4k words

“When’s the last time someone touched you like this, hmm?”

The alley is dark.

There's a disconcerting feeling as you step deeper into the quiet darkness,

You turn to look at the door you entered this dank place from, but it's just as dark and grimy as the walls. You're almost positive that if you rested a hand against them, it would return pitch black, and if you stood in one spot for more than five minutes, the sticky booze would glue your heels to the floor. You're surprised when it doesn't.

"Hand over your wallet and no one gets hurt, pretty lady."

He's a smarmy looking bastard and as thin as they come. It’s clear this isn’t something he does on the regular, the pointed gun quivering so much you worry a trembling might slip and pull the trigger. And you fucking freeze, blood running below zero and heart plummeting because why you?

And fuck, you’ve got a kid at home with a babysitter, and there are many outcomes to this situation, none of them too cute.

"I said hand it over," he grunts, pressing forwards. Your back hits the grimy brick wall as your eyes dart to the mouth of the alley, where life continues, where cars race past, but no one sees a damn thing. Fuck. Fuck.

And it's not like you have much—hell, you may be a mother, but you know how to party. You squeeze your eyes shut, grip tightening around your purse as you clumsily fumble through it and the man steps closer. You toss all you have to his feet. A fucking twenty. He raises an eyebrow before eyeing your watch. He lets out an unimpressed snort.

"That it?"

You nod, taking a shaky step back.

"Well, that ain't fuckin' enough."

There's a click and you're positive it's him turning off the safety. His face twists like he's about to shoot a bullseye, and you squeeze your eyes as tight as they can go.

Until the looming shadow of the stranger disappears, followed by a sound that's distinctly skin on skin. Er—skin on bone.

You don't watch the fight. Frankly, you don't want to, and you still get to hear your protector spew a litany of curses and disrespectful phrases that should really only come from someone's mother. You don't even open your eyes, still screwed shut with a vice grip around your purse and wallet.

"Um, excuse me Miss? Are you alright?"

Your protector's eyes are much bigger than you expect them to be—and green. You realize you remember seeing those eyes, hardened from across the club.

He's hesitant to touch you, hands rising and falling and rising again. Though you suppose a hug seems like it'd be a little abrasive, it also sounds like the exact kind of thing you need right now.

"U-Um, yeah I'm..." you start, before noticing your attackers body bloodied and wrapped like a pretzel on the ground. "...Fine..."

He sounds like he's going to pass out—he doesn't.

"We should um, we should get you home," As he speaks, the greenette shuffles you out of the alley and into the streetlamp light, blinking himself out of something before holding a meaty hand out of formality. "I'm Izuku by the way. Izuku Midoriya."

For such a big guy, Izuku seems rather timid, and yet, seeing him at the entrance with crossed arms in a black tee and a scowl in the club doesn't give you much insight into his personality. Which makes you wonder why he became the club's bouncer in the first place.

"Um, nice to meet you," you nod, trying to suppress the shake in your hands as you take his. "Y/N."

Izuku smiles at that, and even though you're a regular, you've never actually seen him beam on the job. "Cool! Cool, so...um, I don't really feel comfortable letting you walk home...alone..."

You nod—he panics as if you aren't already on board.

"'Cause it's like, a conscience thing, you know? Like, I really won't be able to sleep tonight otherwise," Izuku defends, shoving a clumsy hand in his green curls. "B-But if you don't feel comfortable with it, or something, that's totally fine! I know what you just experienced was horrible, and you probably do—"

"Izuku."

"Yeah?" He perks up. It seems as if the circuit his mind runs finally comes to a stop.

"I'd...feel more comfortable if you walked me home. Too."

Your innards ache at the stiffness in both your voice and figure, but Izuku doesn't seem to notice. Instead, he beams, standing ten feet taller, and you think—yeah. You'd feel much safer if he did.

"O-Okay! Cool!" He confirms a bit stiff himself, and then, in a smoother motion, holds his hand out to take. "Shall we?"

Your red palm claps over his, and you snort quietly, "We shall."

You two walk in a surprisingly comfortable silence for the beginning of the walk—you lead the way and he silently trails behind, glaring daggers at any passerby with lingering eyes as you march on, unknowing.

"So um, do you come to Club 777 often?"

Which is a question you know he knows the answer to, completely aware you almost come every Saturday. But you smile at his attempt to start a conversation anyways, hands tucking underneath your armpits in search of warmth.

"Yeah, sometimes. Just trying to get out and stuff. Y'know, away from the kid."

"I get that," he nods with a smile, before tugging at the hem of his hoodie. "Oh! Are you cold? Here—wait, let me."

He shucks it over your head and your positive it messes up your hair. But you find that you don't care much, especially in favor of the warmth that it provides.

And then, "You have a kid?"

"Yep," you say, tucking your fists into the jacket pockets. "A big two-year-old potato waits for me back home."

"Oh," Izuku chortles at your description before tucking his hands into his jean pockets too. Licking his lips, his eyes dart to the street, "I...assume your boyfriend watches him for the night? Or husband or whoever."

"Uhm, not quite," you chuckle towards your feet, though it's a touch acrid. Izuku picks up on it immediately.

"Oh I'm so sorr—I didn't kno—"

"It's fine, Izuku really—"

"I—but I shouldn't even be assuming what if you had a wife or girlfriend or—" he takes a second to gasp, and your eyes widen in fear that he'll choke, "—or if they're nonbinary or—"

"Izuku," you knock him on the shoulder and he finally shuts up. "It's fine. I get it all the time."

He falters, but at least he seems to relax. "Really?"

"Yes," you giggle behind a hand, and the greenette smiles at it.

"O-Okay, cool."

Flecks of gold swim in Izuku's green irises and you find yourself noticing them now, suppressing the urge to advance closer for a better look. You stare long enough to watch his smile relax into a comfortable line, but you snap out of it once he kicks a rock, the sound of the gravel skittering across the floor tugging you out of your reverie.

"I'm not very good with kids, y'know," he says as an afterthought. You snort.

"Really?"

"Yeah, I mean," he scratches the back of his neck sheepishly. "Like what am I supposed to feed it? French fries?"

"Toddlers aren't it's, Izu." You can't tell if he flushes from the nickname or from what you said, but either way, it's enough to prompt another laugh. "And maybe start with baby food?"

"Ah," Izuku nods, and you guide him in turning a corner. "That would make sense.

"It would."

By the time you stop in front of your red front door, it's almost three am. You figure you caught Izuku right after he got off work, if the cheesy All Might sweatshirt you're wearing is any evidence of that, but either way, he looks like he's about to fall flat on his face.

"You can stay for the night, if you want," you offer, albeit meekly, and Izuku lifts two hands with insistence.

"Oh! No no no please, I'm fine," he shakes his head so quickly his curls bounce in a flurry, and you genuinely worry he's going to pass out when he tries to blink himself awake. "Just...not used to staying up this late is all."

"Then stay," you offer with a shrug, and your orange porch light flickers. "It's the least I can do. I've got a bed and a futon, and I'm fine with sleeping on either."

"I..." Izuku's green eyes flicker towards your door before back to you, "I really shouldn't. I'm a stranger an—"

"And I'm offering."

Izuku's eyebrows fold with the dilemma, but you grab his hand with a tug and a smile, while your free one shoves the keys into the door. "C'mon. Let's get you some rest, yeah?"

You can't tell if Izuku blushes or if it's just the lighting, but either way, his chest inflates in protest before deflating in resignation.

"Okay."

With a smile, you turn the doorknob. Your door has always taken some shoulder to get open, so you don't hesitate in shoving your collarbone into the hardwood. Izuku cringes at the sight.

"Mama!"

Your hit in the legs first, nearly stumbling back with a quiet oof. You look down to see Max wrapped around your legs like you're a fucking jungle gym, grinning with two missing teeth and a bandaid over his nose.

It's three am.

"I'm done," your babysitter grunts. "He doesn't listen when I tell him to bathe, eat, anything—I fucking quit."

And with that, they slam the door behind them, house rattling under the pressure. You sigh. There goes another one. Fuck.

"Well that wasn't very nice," Izuku grumbles under his breath disapprovingly. You smile at the arms crossed over his chest until Max peeks around your legs to see...

"A new daddy?"

"I—no, baby," you fight the embarrassment (and the urge to say you fucking wish) by picking the little one up by his armpits, smiling when he thrusts his hands in the air and goes weee! After he's comfortably cradled in your arms, you say, "He's just staying the night."

"Like daddy did!" Max defends with a giggle before rushing the greenette with open arms. Izuku just looks at you with a shrug before kneeling to take a hug to the chest as Max chants, "New daddy! New daddy!"

And, well. There's no stopping him now.

You peel your heels off your cramping feet and sigh at the fucking freedom, toes uncurling from the scrunched position it feels like they've been holding the entire night. You curse under your breath when you realize since Max is awake you've got to put him to bed too, and honestly, if you knew this babysitter was going to be just as useless as the others, you would've just let Max run fucking free while you lived life for a few hours. Not like that outcome would be any better.

"Alright Maxie, c'mon."

You take him away from his celebration with the greenette and though he pouts, he allows his mother to gather him in her arms.

"Do you um, need help?"

You turn to see Izuku awkwardly shifting in the doorway from the request, hands behind his back with pursed lips. You shake your head.

"Oh no, it's fine. I just have to put him down really quickly and then I'll be—"

"Mama, I'm hungry. I want chicken nuggies." Max loops his arms around your neck and tugs so hard you worry about your bones. You shake your head with a sigh and a pout.

"It's too late for you to be up, bud. You can have chicken nuggies for lunch tomorrow. Sound like a plan?"

But goodness. In this state, it'll take hours for him to relax—and you still have to unfold the futon for Izuku.

Max whines and kicks his legs but doesn't say no, meaning he's not really that hungry, he just wants to stay awake. "But—but what if new daddy's gone in the morning like the last one?"

Fuck.

"Max," you sigh, giving him a light shake so his matching eyes look into you yours. You speak a little softer, "Izuku's not your new daddy, okay? He's a houseguest."

Max's face drops. "Not eve—"

"No, Maxie," you sigh, squeezing him on the shoulder. "Now let's go to bed, okay?"

"I can—I can put him down if you'd like! So you can get into something more comfortable and stuff. I mean, I've never worn a dress but sweats are so much better, you know? Or shorts, or...whatever you wear to sleep."

You understand the many points he's trying to get across, one being that's he's not a creep, just a nice guy, and you suppose you and Max can live in your "new daddy" fantasy for a little longer. Even if you know this one will be gone by morning.

"Um, okay yeah," you say, voice a little thin, before handing your child over to the greenette—who bounces into his arms excitedly. "I'll be back, then? His room is down the hall to the right. The one with the race car bed."

Izuku's eyes narrow as he processes your directions. "Down the hall to the right—okay! I'll just go take this little guy to bed, then."

"Okay, thank you," you nearly bow, because Izuku just saved both of you so much time and he doesn't even understand how. "Oh! And good luck."

"Good...luck?"

"Yep!" You say with a wink and a pat on the back before scooping your heels and booking it back to your bedroom with a cackle. Time to get out of this dress. Fucking finally.

You realize that being alone is much more unsettling when you've had a gun held to your head today.

Every little noise just seems off, like it could belong to something more than it actually does, even the silence; you find yourself shoving your head through your t-shirt abnormally fast, eyes blinking to take a survey of the room to ensure that you're alone. You are. It's fine.

And that's what you tell yourself when you close your eyes to run a wet rag over your face, and again with the dry one. All of a sudden, you don't like the way your bathroom window faces the open backyard nor do you like how dark it is outside. You don't like how big your bed looks, and goddammit, you haven't even gotten into it yet.

Pushing all uneasy thoughts aside, you stumble out of your bedroom with a fresh face and a new outfit, stilling in Max's doorway when the greenette doesn't notice you. Resting against the frame with crossed arms, you smile.

"I do so like green eggs and ham! Thank you! Thank you, Sam-I-am. You know, when I was a kid I—oh, he's asleep."

Izuku tucks the snoring boy in his lap under the covers with a gentle grin, pulling them underneath his chin. The greenette takes a second, watches Max's chest rise and fall a few times, before ruffling the tuft of hair on his head with a snort, and walking away.

You don't even think Izuku sees you until he practically sashays out the door, winking, "Good luck, huh?"

To say you go red in the face from that is an understatement.

"How do you do this?"

"Do what?" You ask as you pulling the futon in your living room forwards. Izuku yawns before gesturing to the clock with a shake of his head.

"Take care of a kid, and work, and go to a bar every Saturday evening? It's four am, and something tells me you've been up for a while. I'm practically dead and I wake up at one pm every day!"

You chuckle at that, jumping on the bed with your hands and knees to ensure its lays flat...and ensure that it won't make an Izuku sandwich at seven in the morning. "You build up stamina after a while, I guess."

"No shit," he gestures to you as you utilize the entire length of your body to put the sheets on the mattress. He would help, but you told him no, insisting that he'd only make this take longer. "Are you sure you do—"

"Nope," you huff, clapping your hands together. "I'm done."

Izuku blinks at the made bed, to you, to the made bed again, and then back to you with wide eyes.

"Mommy magic."

"I—" you blink towards the ceiling to see if that even makes sense, but you figure fuck it, it's four am, with a snort. "Yeah, sure. Whatever you want to call it."

In reality, you feel like you're about to pass out.

"Um, so I don't really have pj pants and I don't think you'll have any that'll fit, so..."

"Yeah no, I definitely burned all the shit my ex left—"

"Aha okay, cool, um, so just boxers...are fine...?"

He looks down at his black jeans and back to you, raising an eyebrow. You toss a nonchalant shrug in return, and you hate to say it, but your inner school girl goes—dick outline.

"O-Okay, then," Izuku says, and you watch his hands curl around the waistband. "I'm just gonna—"

He shucks his pants so hard they hit the floor, and your eyes widen because...well...looks like he's just gonna do it then.

Until Izuku's hands rush to cover his crotch (which you weren't peeking at, you weren't) and you realize that maybe you should've stepped out of the room or something.

"U-Um—that was fast—"

"I thought—thought you were going to uhm, turn around," he flushes, a funny contrast to the way his muscles fold under that black shirt, and your feet move to turn around like he ordered you to do it.

"Sorry! So sorry," you try to apologize, but now his dick print is burned in your brain, and...it isn't that bad.

"It—It's fine! I'm in the bed now so, you can turn around."

You laugh awkwardly and scuffle to turn, as you do, and Izuku beams at you from the bed with a wave.

"Hi," he says, his lower half-tucked under the covers. You wave back.

"Hi."

Izuku's eyes dart to you living room tv before the come back to you. "So uhm, I guess this is goodnight?"

"Oh right," you perk up at that, hands rubbing the sides of your thighs like there's something on them. "Time to go to bed, right?"

"Uh, yeah!" He nods, chest shuddering before he says, "so uh, sweet dreams?"

You smile tight at the kind gesture, and your hands opt to pull at the hem of your shirt instead, eyes drifting to an old pile of records you haven't regarded in months. "Thanks! You...too?"

Izuku smiles, though his eyes drift, "Yeah..."

You beam back. You figure you should probably go now, or something, until you think of something and slam a fist into your palm. "Oh! Also, I meant to thank you for saving me. I'm not sure if I did that. Did I do that?"

The greenette shrugs, "Uh, I think so?"

"Okay! Okay. Cool," you nod, flashing a tight smile. "Mmk. Night Izuku."

"G'night."

And see, you would move—except it seems as if your feet are glued to the floor and won't move no matter how hard you try, to the point where it feels like your straining and they're going numb, and yet you're still staring at Izuku's pretty fucking face.

"C'mon," he chuckles, scooting over on the futon to make extra space for you. "If you take all day, the beds gonna get cold, and then I'm going to have to crawl into yours like a creep."

"Oh my fucking god," you snort one breath and move to flick off the lights before stumbling through the darkness for the futon. "You're so weird."

"Weird in a good way, I hope," he lifts the blanket and you slide under—and swear your knee grazes his before it's snatched away.

"There's no weird in a bad way," you say once you've settled comfortably, tucking your hands under your head as you lay on your stomach. Izuku mimics your position, though he takes up much more of the blanket, and you find that it drapes over you like a tent over his shoulders. Neither of you close your eyes, for some reason.

"Hi," Izuku whispers.

"Hi," you smile back.

"Okay," he huffs, face twisting in determination, "Now it's goodnight."

"Right," you nod, but your eyes don't close. "Goodnight. Of course."

"Don't let the bedbugs bite," he says with a chuckle, and you can't tell if his eyes flicker to your lips or if you imagine it. Either way, you look them just in case.

"I better not have bedbugs," you snort. "I clean this place like a motherfucker."

Izuku's nose twitches at that with a nod. Moonlight pours into your living room and colors his pale skin silver, though you figure it won't take the sun much longer to color it a strawberry pink. "You really do. It's...different when it's quiet."

"Yeah," you agree, placing your hands on his chest. It shudders under your palms. "Kinda personal, huh?"

"Mhm," he nods, and though his hands wrap around your wrists, they never pull them away. You lift an eyebrow.

"A bad personal?"

Izuku doesn't hesitate, breath nearly ghosting your lips as he says, "Hardly."

"Would you..." now it's your chests turn to shudder, and sliding a hand up to play with his ear, you bite the bullet. "Like to get more personal?"

Izuku's lips melt into a grin against yours, "I'd love to."

His lips are softer than you thought.

Maybe because you assumed all of him was a bumbling mess, including his chapstick application; but they're fucking pillow-soft, and you don't realize how deprived you are until his hold around your body turns from protective to sensual and you melt from his heat.

"Fuck," Izuku huffs between kisses, growling when your grip around his neck tightens. "Watching you from across the club for weeks can do a thing to a guy's patience, you know."

"Oh?" You snort as he presses enthusiastic open-mouthed kisses down the column of your neck, hot and wet, and painful once his teeth dig into your collarbone. "A-Ah, Izuku—no marks."

"O-Oh! Sorry," he pulls away, lips red and swollen, and shiny with spit. You smile at the reaction.

"'S okay, Baby," you giggle at the speed to which his muscles go lax, and his eyes droop to your chest when you scratch the back of his head.

"Can I—can I suck your tits?"

He asks so bashfully it's nearly innocent, and you find your eyes dropping to your chest along with his before you're ditching his All Might sweatshirt all together.

"God," Izuku's eyes flutter as he gathers your breasts in both palms, groaning at the sight. "They're fucking perfect."

You shudder as his thumb ghosts a nipple, and Izuku dips an experimental hand under your lacy bra and pinches. Hard.

Your thighs jolt and hands fist the sheets, and a moan comes from the back of your throat before you can stop it. Izuku's hand rocket to cover your mouth.

"Shh—you don't wanna wake him up, do you?"

You shake your head, but it's hard to keep quiet when your nipples are as sensitive as they are. Izuku doesn't seem like he really means that statement, though, lowering his head with a devilish grin as if he knows that for himself.

“Sensitive, Mommy?”

“O-Oh um,” you flush at the nickname, and even more so when his lips close around your nipple and suck. Tangling a hand in his hair, you sigh, “Yeah, a little.”

Izuku hums at that, eyes fluttering to watch you bite your bottom lip in a poor attempt to muffle a moan, hissing as his teeth dig into the hardened bud. He pulls off with a slurp and moves to the other, but not without a few kisses across your chest.

“When’s the last time someone touched you like this, hmm?” Izuku nearly growls out before biting into the opposite nipple, and you shudder as he dips a scarred hand down the waistband of your shorts and panties. He chuckles after sliding a finger through your slit. “So wet for me.”

“It—It’s been a second,” you sigh, grip tightening around his shoulders as he slides a finger in. Even Izuku has to bite a lip at your tightness in anticipation, mouth descending over your nipple once more to send frissons of fire up your spine.

“No shit,” he grunts around your nipple, curling his finger. You gasp. “Think I can fit another one in there?”

“Why don’t you try?” You giggle, but it dissipates into nothing but air as he does, his two fingers filling you up enough to elicit a sigh.

“How’s that?” He breathes, face hovering over yours. As your hands coil around his neck, his free one reaches for your inner thigh and pulls it back far enough to give him a better angle as he presses you into the mattress.

“Good, it’s good,” you nod, and your hips start to move on their own, bucking forwards as if there’s any more finger left for you to fuck. (Spoiler: there’s not.)

“Good,” he breathes, eyes going glossy as he watches you writhe under him. You're positive that you're carving painful red lines into his back, but considering the way his eyebrows fold every time you do, makes you wonder if he doesn't mind. "Fuck I can't wait to fuck you—I can fuck you, right?"

"No Izuku, I'm just letting you finger me for fu-u—fuck."

He slides in a third finger and for some reason, it burns a little—but the burn only makes your eyes roll further, and he's stuffing you with a chuckle.

"What was that?"

"I-I—you're not pla—playing very fair," you huff, chest shuddering as he tilts your hips higher for a better angle. You suppress a scream when his fingers curl, jolting forwards at such a speed it makes the futon creak. Izuku tightens his grip around your waist to keep you from going too far.

"No one said anything about being fair, Mommy," he teases, and you whine when he removes his fingers, tapping them against your lips. "C'mon, you gotta get 'em wet so I can fuck you, right?"

You nod at the idea, enjoying the idea of being filled up much more, and coat his fingers to the point where they're dripping when he pulls him out. Izuku's chest rumbles.

"So good for me," he purrs, using your spit to coat his cock before he's sliding his head between your folds—you shiver, grabbing onto his back again. "Ready?"

“Mhm,” you nod, spreading your legs further—though you swear they do that on their own.

“Oh my, you’re um...tight...”

You whimper from the stretch and look between your legs, eyes widening upon seeing that Izuku’s much bigger than you had anticipated. Or had been warned of.

“F-Fuck, I can’t—“

“Shhhh, it’s okay, just a little more, okay?” Izuku nearly whispers into your lips as his hands move to rub your shuddering sides. Your eyes screw shut, “Jus’ a little more, Mommy...”

Izuku pushes deeper and you’re being split in half—because what else could that burn be—but you’ll admit, the feeling of accomplishment you receive once he bottoms out is surreal.

“Good—Good girl,” Izuku’s nearly quivering and plants his hands on both sides of your head with a huff.

“I-Izu,” you whimper as he starts to move, feeling impossibly full no matter how far he pulls out. Izuku shudders, mouth rounding into an ‘o’ when his hips slowly start to gain rhythm, and though it’s loud, you know the creak of the futon is unavoidable. You squeal as his head hammers into your cervix, pulling out a wanton Daddy before you have half a mind to shut the fuck up. You nearly freeze, and yet, all Izuku’s hips do is speed up.

“Yeah? Want me to be your new Daddy?” He moans, and you dig your nails into his back with a nod. The greenette curses at that, biting his bottom lip and his hand drops between your legs to rub at your clit. With thighs seizing around his waist, you slam a hand over your mouth to keep yourself quiet.

“Fuck—I make you feel that good, Mommy?” Izuku nearly wheezes, eyes suppressing the urge to screw closed, “So good you can’t keep your pretty mouth shut?”

“Y-Yeah, I—“ you gasp when he lifts your hips off the bed for a better angle, hands fisting the sheets. “Harder, Daddy—“

“Oh Mommy, if I go any harder I think I might break this bed,” he says, borderline bashful, but you find yourself saying fuck the bed as your hips buck in search of a feeling he refuses to give you. Izuku’s chuckle strains as he says, “So needy, Mommy. You that needy for my cum?”

Clawing at his back, you try your damnest to stutter out a yes. Izuku chuckles at your desperation before he cuts himself off with a groan, eyes rocketing to where you’re both connected as you tighten around him.

“F-Fill me up, I wanna—“

“You want another baby, Mommy?” Izuku pants, and you’re so close you start to feel a buzz in your thighs, praying he isn’t too far behind. You nod vehemently with a gasp and his lips slide into an exhausted smile, "Fuck, of course you do—and you’re gonna take me so well, aren’t you? All of it.”

Izuku finishes his sentence with a growl, pressing you further into the mattress—it squeaks like a squeaky wheel, and when it thunks a level lower both of you yelp, the back of the futon thumping on your hardwood floor with each thrust.

“Told ya,” Izuku wheezes, eyes scrunching in a chuckle. You return it.

“It—It’s old anyway,” you reply, but your eyebrows fold as quickly as they unfold from the crash. The creaking futon increases in pitch as his hips pick up the pace, “Fuck—fuck Izuku I’m gonna cum.”

“What’s my name?” The greenette challenges, and you find yourself shivering at the dominance he exudes. The finger on your clit disappears and you whine, knowing damn well you can’t cum without it.

“Daddy—Daddy please—“

“Good—fuck, so good for me,” his hand returns to your clit and you sigh at the feeling. As the coil in your gut threatens to snap, his hips speed up, and Izuku pants, “We’re gonna cum together, yeah? Cum with me Mommy, c’mon—“

“Fuck!” You drag red lines down Izuku’s back as you quake under the weight of your orgasm, broken bed whining as Izuku thrusts all his weight into you. Digging his teeth into your shoulder, the greenette cums with a broken moan, hips stuttering into yours for the final time that night.

The room fills with a comfortable silence, minus the panting, and Izuku rolls onto the mattress next to you with a bounce. It creaks, whines, and then drops again, catching both you and the greenette by surprise. (Again.)

“I think—I think we broke it,” Izuku says towards the ceiling as he catches his breath. You giggle at that, hands laid across your sweaty stomach, and turn to him with your head in the pillow.

“Gives me an excuse to buy a new one,” you say with a shrug. Izuku chuckles back.

“I guess,” he teeters his head to both sides. “I can...also pitch in, if you want. Since I broke the thing. Technically.”

His offer sounds apprehensive as if he’s encroaching in your space, as if he hasn’t been all up in your space less than a minute ago. You smile. “I’d like that a lot, actually. Thanks.”

"And um, breakfast? I mean," he snorts, though it seems rather defensive, and his eyes rocket to the ticking clock on your wall. Your eyes follow: five am. "I mean—fuck um, I feel like this might be weird but I think you're cool? Um, yeah, so breakfast, I can make it if you want because you're so busy being motherly and stuff and plus, it's Sunday but again, if you don't wan—"

"Izuku," you giggle, wrapping your arms around his gut with a little squeeze. "Breakfast sounds nice."

The greenette beams and his chest stutters. "O-Okay cool! Cool, cool. Breakfast then?"

You snort, driving your palm into his face to shut him the fuck up. "Goodnight, Izuku."

Izuku giggles, getting the message, and coils his arms around your shoulders to provide a comfort you haven't felt in a very, very long time.

"G'night Mommy."

[punisheye]

The sneeze is loud enough to be heard throughout the house, and the cat doesn't seem fazed by it whatsoever. She even chews on Vash's pants a little bit and tries to jump up onto the counter, but Wolfwood immediately scoops her up with one big hand (to which she squawks in protest) and places her back onto the floor.

Wolfwood goes back to tugging the peel of the orange off and promptly throws it at the younger Vash, clocking him square in the forehead. When he pulls one piece of the orange off and plops it into his mouth, the juice makes his fingers a little sticky.

"He's around," Wolfwood replies mid-chew. "Crashed his bike on the way to the desert 'n' bruised up his shoulder."

There is a brief pause where Wolfwood hesitates, swallowing the fruit, turning his eyes away. Vash is healing a lot faster than he is, but he's been focusing a lot on Wolfwood's own healing rather than his own. Probably because Wolfwood's still... very much human, still without his full power.

(If he had been, then... maybe... ... well, no use dwelling on it. It's over now.)

"Shot in the leg," he finally continues. "Still walkin' around like normal. Won't let me leave. Farthest I can get is the sidewalk before he's materializin' outta thin air and draggin' me back. Talk about bein' protective. Ain't I s'posed to be his babysitter?"

Wolfwood sniffs. He sounds annoyed, but fond. Mostly annoyed. Being taken care of when he's hurt is strange. He's getting stir-crazy, but he can't deny there's something wonderful about being curled up in a thick, heavy, soft comforter and snoozing away during the day.

The cat goes and loafs on the arm of the couch. Wolfwood watches her.

"We got allergy meds sittin' somewhere. Had to get some 'cus I started gettin', uh... hay fever? That's what it's called? 'Round when I first got here. If ya don't wanna be sneezin' the whole time yer here."

That first question earns Wolfwood a funny look from Vash, eyebrow raised—maybe that question's rhetorical, but it's still considered a little silly, given the Plant's totally earnest response:

"We're … friends?" Easy as.

If he were a little more mean-spirited like his predecessor, maybe he'd hit him with an overly-cheery you're welcome of sorts, but can't a guy just look out for a pal in recovery?

The lighthearted jokes about dragging Vash out of Home go without commentary, though he's still grinning in appreciation of the priest's humor. Lucky that it was just a joke and nothing more; if he'd come to visit without warning and his Wolfwood had gone to open the door, well…!

Vash stiffens as the tiny good-luck omen suddenly threads herself through his legs, an "(Eek!)" slipping out of the corner of his mouth. He's quick to try and cover it up once his friend makes it a point, though—suddenly over-relaxing against the counter to show how casual he is, smile a wobbly line of pure nerves.

"Whaaaat?" Pshaw. "Vash doesn't have one, right? So I defi—def… Defuh-fwuh…

"vvAACHOO !!

"… … ...

"Maybe," Vash mutters, pulling his face from out of the corner of his sleeve. He sniffles.

Then he's moving on right away, both hands grabbing oranges and holding them both in front of his face, obscuring his eyes. It's a makeshift wanted poster. "Hey, that guy around, anyway? He's not hurt too bad, is he?"

[nagener]

Scene from TFATWS, maybe.....

Sam's relaxing on the couch, feet kicked up, reviewing his mission notes before sending his report to Sharon. He takes a pull from his beer, resting on the coaster that Bucky "you're gonna ruin stuff if you're not careful, geez" Barnes insisted he use. Who knew? Sam was a bit distracted, because in the periphery of his vision, he could see the aforementioned Mr Clean lurking. He thought he was being subtle. But Sam, having spent a significant amount of time around him, was pretty attuned to Bucky's movements. Most of them. He still had the uncanny ability to just...appear, without a sound. Kinda of creepy when you think you're alone. So, of course Bucky would do it just to mess with him.

"Barnes! What do you need man?"

"Huh? Nothin."

"Well, then quit walkin back and forth peeking in here like you're stalking someone, or come and here and ask whatever it is going on in your cyborg brain."

Bucky huffs out a sigh, "not a cyborg, only have a metal arm."

"Man, what's up?"

"Look, I got you something. Don't make it weird."

"Oh, I'm gonna. You shouldn't have led with that."

"Can you just be serious? I needed to replace something I took."

"Something you took...stole? You stole something from me Barnes?"

"Yeah. But in my defense, I wasn't in my right mind. "

"Really? This I gotta see."

Bucky leaves the room, returning shortly with a large box with crumpled bow on top.

Putting a hand over his heart, Sam exclaims, " Oh Buck, you shouldn't have!" Taking in the condition of the bow, he chuckles, "What happened to this?"

Bucky rolls his eyes, "I couldn't get the sticky paper thingy off the back okay. I may have accidentally crushed it."

"Right." Shaking the box, Sam asks what's in it.

"Feathers, just open it will ya? Why do you have to be so difficult?"

"Okay pot meet kettle. "

Bucky just gestures for him to open it.

Sam delicately takes off the bow, setting it to the side, and begins to peel off the tape from the box, rather slowly knowing it was irritating Bucky. Sam waggles his eyebrows at Bucky before opening it. He looks down in the box, then up at Bucky, then in the box again.

Bucky looks at him expectantly. "Well?"

"Well" said Sam. You never cease to amaze me", as he pulls a steering wheel from the box.

Bucky rubs the back of his neck, as he meets Sam's questioning expression.

"So, there's that."

"Um, what am I supposed to do with it?"

"I dunno. I just wanted you to know how sorry I am over what happe..."

Sam puts up his hand, "Whoa, whoa, I'm stopping you there. You're not that person anymore. Between us, we've got enough trauma and regrets to overcome. Let's not rehash a past we can't change. You know this man. The question is, is there a car that goes with this? I mean, if you're talking about replacing something.."

"Dreamin is free Wilson. Get your feet off the table."

"What am supposed to do with a whole steering wheel Barnes.?"

Bucky shrugs, "Doesn't seem to be my problem."

And that is how they came to have a steering wheel with a crushed bow, in a shadowbox on their wall.

[andiwanderer]

New Kid

Tony Stark x daughter!Reader

Overview: Frustrated by how Tony was treating the new kid, you felt like an outcast. After the outburst of your father, you finally told him your decision. Because no matter how hard you try to gain his attention, his sole focus was directed to this new kid, named Peter. Maybe parting ways from your father can finally make him notice you. a/n: i'm sorry for the poor written summary! please bear with me! XD

Warnings: Angst, Language, Fluff

MASTERLIST

a/n: my first fanfic post, please, pleeeassseee! bear with me✨

--

"Parker!"

"Hey Parker, look at this."

"That kid is doing his job. I commend that. And also he's my intern, so get yours."

"He said his name was quote on quote "Spiderman". You got that, Rhodey?"

"D'you think? You know you have a potential Pete,"

"That spiderling?"

"Peter, just contact Happy on that one, I'm on my way."

"Mr. Parker, the Avengers just wanted your safety. Courtesy of me, of course."

"Mr. Parker, Mr. Stark ask your presence in his office."

Y/N had enough. It was like 4 in the morning and she hasn't got her proper sleep. She reached for her pillow and pushed it to cover her entire face along with her ear. Now, silently hoping she can finally sleep.

She really had enough not just because of exhaustion. But because of the 'New Kid' from Queens, Peter Parker.

She can't have a full day without hearing that kid's name uttered by her father, Tony.

Not that she was jealous of him but she's getting there. She used to be her father's apple of the eye. She used to have that same praises and care from Stark, then this Sokovia Accords began to ruin it.

Y/N knew what's right from wrong, Tony taught her that. And being controlled by the government, it was as though not having the freedom to have your own insights expressed. You can't do that because you're their personal puppet, the only thing that is right for them is their own judgment.

So she joined the Captain's team and learned the knowledge that Barnes wasn't a killer and he was controlled by HYDRA, the organization that they've been chasing, and it was not him who killed the T'challa's father, T'chaka. He was framed.

The encounter in Germany happened, there entered the new mighty intern of Stark, Peter Benjamin Parker also known as Spiderman.

They seemed pretty close for her liking and from that moment on she knew something is about to change.

They went back to the compound after what happened, finally having a truce. Understanding each side, well a majority of them, but there are two certain people who are still not on speaking terms.

Here's the thing, Y/N, and Tony fought regarding the accords before parting ways. And both of them seemed to heightened their pride and refuse to apologize to each other. They still think that their own opinion is better than the other.

Living in one compound doesn't help, it's difficult to not cross paths when wandering around. The only advantage of this was finally they're having small talks.

"Mr. Stark, I just went to grab my bag."

"You go ahead on the lab, I'll just..." Tony's voice trailed off as they walk towards their destination.

Y/N's eyes peeled open. Why can I still hear their voices in my sleep?

She knows drowsiness already left her and this will take a toll on her later on.

Now that she's awake, might as well start her day. With that, she sat up and stretched her arms out with a yawn. Grabbed her phone and hoodie before making her way into the kitchen.

When she got there the lights turned on, it was motion-sensored. "Good morning, Ms. Stark."

"What's good in the morning," she murmured as she open the cupboard and reaches what she needed. "The sun hasn't even peaked yet."

"Woke up on the wrong side of the bed, miss?"

"More like woke by an annoying voice."

"I apologize for that, it seemed that I was the one who is guilty-"

"Geez FRIDAY, I was only kidding. Can't take a joke?"

"Your voice was monotone, it was hard to tell."

"Not a morning person..." she sat on one of the stools and continued stirring her cup of milk as she entertained herself by scrolling onto her phone.

"You're up too early." Bucky's voice filled the room slightly startling the lone girl in the kitchen. He removed himself from leaning against the frame of the doorway. Making his way to Y/N, he sat beside her.

Glancing up from her phone she met his gaze, "I could ask you the same question."

"Don't smart ass me, doll." he gave her a stern look. "I got back from the bathroom and you weren't on the bed."

That made Y/N's voice back down and instantly felt guilty. It's dawn and she's giving her man an early headache to nurse for the entire day.

So she wrapped her arm around his waist, hugging him, nuzzling her face on his chest. She felt him responding to the embrace, hugging her fragile body against him tighter.

"I'm sorry..." she mumbled through his chest.

He kissed the crown of her head while caressing the back of her head, "I'm sorry too. I was just worried... I thought you were gone."

"That won't happen. I'm a pain in your ass remember, it's not easy to get rid of me." she chuckled, taking in his warmth.

"Is there a problem? Did you have a nightmare, Hmm? You can tell me everything, I'll listen."

Bucky knew about her struggle seeing the two, namely the man of iron and the kid with the sticky web, having a bond like father and son. Every day he sees the look in her eyes, that hostile look that she gives the kid. If staring is deadly, Peter would've been cold meat. So this topic isn't new to him. And every day it reaches a different level.

"Not really..." she pulled herself from the hug, grab his hand into hers, and intertwined them. "Is it I or Peter and my father are so close right now, even mom can't break the two apart. If I didn't know them I might've assumed they're connected by blood."

"In my perspective, I don't really pay much attention to anyone except you."

His statement brought a smile to her face. "You're crazy."

Bucky leaned in until his lips are ghosting into hers, "Only crazy for you." leaving a peck on Y/N's slightly parted lips that made her cheeks burn. She lightly shook her head on his lame comebacks and partly to somehow ease her flustered face.

"But seriously, Buck. I-" she inhaled and exhaled a deep breath. Her next words came out as a whisper, "I'm jealous...I'll admit. I am now..." she finished her drink and went to the sink washing the things she used, Bucky still eyeing her waiting for her next words. "There's not much to tell, Peter was the son he never had. He was always enthusiastic about it when he talks to mom," pertaining to Pepper "I can't blame him..." when she was done, she turned, her hips leaning against the sink. "I don't want to think about it but I don't know, Buck. Sometimes I just want to d-"

"Disappear, disperse, die?" her head whipped to where the voice came from. Tony walked into the room, screwdriver in hand.

He was headed to his workspace when he heard her daughter talking, her voice was serious so he got curious and got sidetracked.

Tony's eyes shift from Y/N to Bucky, confusion was etched on his face. He can't read either of their expression so he made his own conclusion. "You're thinking about killing yourself?"

Y/N's eyes widened in shock at his statement. I was going to say disappear. Which also has the same meaning by the way. She was about to interject when Tony immediately cut her off, not wanting her to say anything. "Is that it?" He arched a brow at her, he was starting to get pissed. "Aren't you even grateful you're alive? Many people die every single day. It wasn't their choice, hell they'll do anything they can to be alive. And here you are having the opportunity to live thinking how to end your life? Why did that thing even cross your mind."

Bucky sensed Y/N's tense composure as her hand began to fidget her shirt in habit when she's nervous or scared, Bucky noticed it but Tony didn't, so he got between the two. "Tony..."

"Shut your mouth, metal man. We're in a conversation as you can see. Can you please-" the guy waved his hand dismissively, gesturing him to vanish, then turned to Y/N.

He pointed the screwdriver at her, "What happened to your smart mouth, young lady, did that also died?" firmness laced his voice, she can't even decipher if that man was still the father she grew up to. It was like this moment, he became a cold jerk father to her.

Not wanting to deal with his shit, she grabbed her phone at the counter, and without saying anything she walked out.

How did he even think I want to die? I had only said 'D-'! How that does make any sense. I can say dance or whatever d-verb I can apply to my sentence!

Almost stumble to the new arrival, Peter Parker. She scoffed and rolled her eyes at him before making a beeline to her room.

As to Bucky, he just stared at Stark who shook his head as he brought his free hand up to massage his temple.

Peter shot a question, "Mr. Stark, Mr. Barnes, what just happened?"

It was Barnes' turn to shake his head with amusement because of the two. Before Tony could utter a word, Bucky left and followed Y/N to her room.

***

"What the hell was that?" he angrily spat at Y/N as he left his suit.

"Tony-"

"Rogers this is between us so get lost."

Steve looked in Y/N's direction whose eyes were glued on the floor. He wants to get between them because there has been a misunderstanding and Tony had been declining to listen to the captain ever since the time they finished the mission. Turning off his earpiece and blasting off defeating them on getting to the compound first. He didn't want to be rude, Tony was right and he didn't want to meddle with them, afraid that he might get the topic even worse. But if anything goes wrong he'll step in no matter what. So he ushered the team to leave and go to the med bay to have their wounds treated.

"That doesn't mean it excludes you, Barnes."

That made Y/N lift her gaze, meeting his steel-blue eyes that were full of concern and love. She gently nodded at him, giving him the idea that she can handle it and Bucky did what she silently asked.

Tony paced around the room. "You are well aware of what you just did, correct? And you know that it was gonna put you in danger!"

I was just trying to save you. She wanted to say those words to him but witnessing how riled up he is right now, made her heart race. Yes, she's afraid of him whenever he's angry that's why she never gave him a reason to be angry at her. The first was with the accords, and the list might continue because of this.

"What were you even thinking! It doesn't mean that now you're a shield agent, you should put yourself on death's door! Or just because you're fulfilling your task of getting yourself killed. You're taking every mission as an opportunity!"

It's not like that... Tears are now falling freely on her face.

"I will talk to Fury about this. And Y/N," his eyes were cold when she gained the courage to look at him, "you're out of the team. Sooner or later SHEILD will kick you out too. Believe it or not, this is for your own good."

She stared at him in disbelief. This was her entire life, he can't take that away from her, for the first time she had the urge to argue but her father cut her before she can speak.

"If only you're as obedient as Parker this wouldn't happen."

That made her heartbreak into many pieces. It was like hearing her own father saying that if only Peter was his son.

Y/N eyes were now red and puffy. Cheeks and nose flustered because of her crying. The tears are making their way down her cheeks uncontrollably and seemed that it's not stopping any time soon. Biting her lips to stop the whimper from being heard. She averted her gaze to the ceiling to somehow stop the flow of her tears.

That's why she didn't see the reaction of her father upon seeing her in her state at the moment. Guilt was already eating him.

Assuming that their conversation was over, she turned her heel and took her to leave with low shoulders. Even though she wanted to be angry at him because of his statement, she can't. Tony Stark raised her well and disrespecting isn't one of those.

"I--" suddenly his voice died. Was really apologizing for that hard?--

"I'm leaving..." She said with a tiny voice.

What?

Y/N swallowed the lump on her throat before saying, "I'm going to fix my things, maybe I should give you some space. I don't like s-seeing you angry. I will join Bucky on their trip to Wakanda. This might give you some peace of mind. And don't worry, I won't kill myself, I'll let a natural death fall on me."

She waited for him to respond or anything but when he didn't she ran towards her room with only one thing in mind, He didn't even try to stop me.

Bruce who was headed to the med bay heard a little of their conversation--he didn't mean to eavesdrop--he approached Tony. "Was that really necessary?"

Tony who felt guilty answered, "She was having suicidal thoughts, what was I supposed to do!"

"Understand her! What the hell, Stark! You only made it worse!"

***

"What the--what are you doing here?" Y/N eyes widen when he saw her father who has the same expression as hers, and a red floating cape behind him.

"I'm the one who should ask you that, missy." he frowns at her. "It's dangerous here! How did you ev--you should've stayed at your house. You could have get yourself in danger!--you know what screw this--" Tony snarls at her clearly he cared for her well-being, however, Y/N didn't acknowledge it instead took it negatively.

"I can handle myself just fine, Stark." she rolled her eyes at him.

"Oh, so it's Stark now. I didn't teach you how to disrespect, young-"

That's when Peter came swinging in and landed beside Tony. Y/N's eyes narrowed at their suit, how can she not recognize it. It's nanotech just like hers, and it was originally her idea by the way. Formulated when she was 12 years old, being fascinated by technology and all that stuff.

She felt insecure because of Peter... She was the daughter she didn't even know if creating a suit like that for her crossed her father's mind. She made her own damn suit, okay.

"I thought you were a spiderman, so why do you always follow him like a good little soldier? What are you a cat who's having fun and chasing his tail?"

"Y/N, mouth."

Peter became tense but quickly composed himself, ignoring Y/N's sarcastic statement, "Miss Y/N, I want to apologize-"

"Apologize? For what?"

Tony is sure, she can be stubborn as him. She's his daughter after all.

When the kid didn't reply she huffs, "See you don't even know what you're apologizing for. So if I were you just step back, I'm had to get Dr. Strange from that two-foot Squidward."

Squidward, huh. He can't help but remember what he had called the alien-like antagonist that they had been chasing. Turns out they gave him the same nickname. That's my daughter.

"Wait, you know his name?" Tony questioned, pertaining to the magician.

"Long story, years passed, things changed, many things happen but--whatever."

"We have a plan actually..." peter said meekly, completely intimidated by Y/N. He thought that Stark's definition of her was all too good to be true, cause he can prove it's all the opposite but maybe he just met her at the wrong place at the wrong time.

"Oh yeah?" she arched a brow at them as she cocked her head at the side. "What is it?"

***

"I want to protect the stone."

"And I want you to thank me, now. Go ahead I'm listening."

"For what? Nearly blasting me to space?"

"Who just saved your magical ass?--Me."

"I seriously don't know how you fit your head into that helmet." Y/N bit her lower lip to prevent her chuckle from erupting. Cause Strange said was so true.

"-flying donut, billions and miles from Earth with no backup."

"I'm back up." Peter raised his hand.

"No, you're still away. The adults are talking"

"I'm sorry, I-I'm confused about the relationship here. What is he your ward?"

"No-"

"Stark's son," Y/N interject. She's bitter alright.

Strange lift his gaze from where she was sitting on the ceiling. Looking confused, "Your looks don't resemble."

"Exactly! cause I don't have a brother and I am nobody's daughter." her feet swaying back and forth as she answers and it echoes all around the ship.

"Please don't mind her that's not true. I'm Peter by the way."

"Dr. Strange."

"Oh you're using made-up names, I'm Spiderman then."

"Y/N can you please go down, you might get yourself hurt up there." Tony pleads.

"You said you two can handle it. I'll just stay here thank you for the concern, but no thank you."

She watches them on her spot, not really paying attention to what they're saying but she senses Strange and Stark's topic was serious.

Y/N was acting like a slightly drunk lady, that's what the others' observations were, but she wasn't. She's just sleepy and she acts cranky when she does. And she's missing her guy who at the moment might be pissed at her because of her sudden disappearance. Oh, Bucky... I could use a hug...

After their conversation, Tony approached Peter, and like what the highest person does to proclaim a knight, he does it with Peter along with the lines of 'You're an Avenger now.'

Letting the guy recover from his shock she calls him, the kid met her gaze. "I hold no grudge, really."

Parker was having second thoughts on her statement either it was a half-hearted claim or not, regardless he answered. "Thanks." giving her a shy smile and Y/N returning a tight-lipped smile.

***

"Mr. Stark, I don't want to go.. I don't want to."

Y/N stared at them as she sit on the ground, tired and weary. She doesn't need to ask them what it felt to disappear, she herself can feel it inside of her. That weird feeling seemed hard to explain.

Witnessing this moment in front of her shattered the little part of her heart left. That should be her in his father's arms, that should be her having that last moment with him before she disappear-but no. It's always Peter.

At that moment she felt numb, as a lone tear made its way down her cheek. She never thought that she'll welcome death open arms. Y/N is done, she knew that.

"Sorry..." was the last word Peter uttered before he turned into dust.

Good riddance.

The older Stark can't still register what happened so when he turned his head, his eyes looking for a certain someone. He was filled with dread when he didn't found her.

"Y/N?"

"He did it." Nebula stated pertaining to Thanos that his plan on wiping half of the planet has begun.

Now that it was all sinking into him, he can't help but blame himself for not doing his job in stopping that grape titan, and maybe if he wasn't an asshole enough to his daughter, maybe he still has her in his arms like when she was still a baby. He was a complete dick towards her. It was all coming back to him, all the times they had been together.

It broke his heart when he watched her ran to her room that day. He can't speak because his pride was fighting off his conscience. He didn't want to see her cry, and the idea that it was his fault for making her leave dreaded him. He tried to follow her to Wakanda but he was afraid she might ignore her, afraid of the instances that might happen if he does one wrong move. Bucky, Steve, Sam, and Natasha were his only contact on asking how Y/N has been and their answers were always the same.

Peter and Y/N were almost alike, maybe that's the reason why in doing so his relationship with her drifted.

If only he'd stopped Y/N from leaving maybe this wouldn't have happened. If only he didn't sign the accords maybe things didn't change the way they were...

If only...

a/n: i'm really sorry for the crappy plot..

[eyeliasbratchard]

Quiet Beginnings

I saw this tiktok and got super inspired. Apologies if its too out of character

https://vm.tiktok.com/7W6RP9/

Their relationship was a quiet one. Not quiet as in they did not communicate, but quiet as in no one else knew about it. It was no one's business but their own and Jon liked It that way. 

 

Yes, Martin can be overbearing at times, but he means well. He brings Jon his coffee as usual, but now with a small note reminding Jon to relax his shoulders and unclench his jaw. Included with the notes was always some sort of small doodle. Outwardly, Jon rolls his eyes but if anyone were to look into his desk, they would see he kept every single one. 

 

Jon taps the desk as he thinks back to what would be considered their first date. It still surprised him that he had made the first move. 

 

Jon had finally finished recording and for some reason decided to wander the Institute. He didn't know why he was still here, but it didn't feel right to leave. Not yet. 

 

He finds Martin in the Archives filing room. The room was void of people except for the two but Martin doesn't seem to have noticed Jon in the doorway. The ginger is murmuring to himself as he works on the filing. 

 

"Martin!" Jon finds himself yelling, startling himself and the other man. Martin jumps and flinches so hard that he drops the box he was holding. Luckily the box was closed and no papers escaped. Why did I do that?

 

"O-oh. Jon. Hi. Hello. Um...how can I help you?"  Martin puts the box on the shelf and clasps his hands behind his back. 

 

"I apologize for startling you. I was wondering…." Wondering what? 

 

Martin tilts his head and blinks. "Are you alright?"

 

"Would you like to come to my place tonight?" Jon blurts. "For dinner? And maybe a movie?"

 

Martin studies Jon for a long several moments. "Are you asking me on a date?"

 

"Yes. I suppose I am." Jon pauses and narrows his eyes a little. "But I will not have sex with you."

 

Martin puts his hands up and his face flushes. "N-no. I don't expect you too."

 

"You haven't answered my question."

 

"O-oh. Sure. I think that would be nice."

 

"Good. Are you finished?"

 

"Oh! Yes. Yes I am."

 

"Good. Come with me then." Jon turns and leaves the room, hearing Martin scramble to follow. He felt a tad bit in over his head but extended the invitation and must commit. "I live nearby and tend to walk to work. I hope you don't mind."

 

"No. No I don't mind." Martin gives a nervous smile. 

 

"That's good. I wouldn't have cared either way." Jon says rather bluntly. Be nice Jon. You want him to like you. 

 

"Yeah that's…..thats fair." Martin nods as he follows Jon down the sidewalk. It was nearly dark and the setting sun casts a warm glow on Jon's face. 

 

The walk continues in a comfortable silence. It's not long before they get to the flat and Martin shuffles his feet as Jon unlocks the door. He follows Jon inside, following suit as the shorter man slips his shoes off at the door. The flat is simplistic but homey. So very…..Jon. 

 

Jon stands to the side and watches Martin look around. He's never been self conscious about his home before but he is now. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, feeling Martin look at him. 

 

"Jon? Are you alright?"

 

"Hm?" Jon opens his eyes. "Yes. Yes I'm fine. Would you like to help with dinner?" He asks as he hangs his jacket up in the closet. He doesn't wait for an answer and makes his way to the kitchen. 

 

Jon sets a pot of water on the stove, salts it and sets it to boil. Then he turns and collides heavily with Martin's back. He makes a noise of surprise and starts to fall. Martin had caught Jon's wrist to catch him but he falls as well. 

 

Jon's back hits the floor and sends pain through his entire body and a second later his head cracks off the tile. Martin's hand slams down next to his head. Jon flinches and groans. He slowly opens his eyes to see Martin over him, head down and face flushed. "Martin?"

 

Martin doesn't respond. 

 

"Martin, kindly get your knee off of my dick. Please."

 

Martin's face turns a deeper shade of red and he scrambles off of Jon, kneeing him in the process. Jon groans again but takes the hand offered and sits up. 

 

"Are you okay?" Martin asks. 

 

Jon nods. "I'm sure my head is harder than the tile. Are you alright?"

 

"I think you took the harder fall." Martin slowly stands and offers a hand to help Jon to his feet. "How about we make a sauce?"

 

Jon nods and they finish dinner, working side by side, shoulders nearly touching. It was a calm quiet. Jon can feel himself relaxing as time went on. They made small talk as they ate. 

 

Normally Jon despises small talk. It's always forced and awkward. But with Martin….it was easy. Martin was going on about some spider he had found recently. Jon didn't particularly care about spiders but…..he found himself listening intently. 

 

Dinner is finished and dishes are washed before Jon finds himself on the couch. He's curled up, leaning against Martin, watching reruns of The Golden Girls. For the first time in a long while, Jon felt content. 

 

These meetings happened off and on for three weeks before….

 

"Jon?" Martin stops running his fingers idly though Jon's hair. 

 

Jon makes a disappointed noise at the loss of the touch. He was nearly asleep, wrapped in Martin's sweater. "Hm?"

 

"Do...would…..a-are we…."

 

"Would you spit it out? I'm tired and you're warm."

 

"Would you be my boyfriend?" Martin asks in a rushed voice. 

 

Jon sighs and sits up, his hair a mess and the sweater hanging around his small frame. "Martin you idiot. We've been dating for three weeks."

 

"We- what?"

 

"Duh." Jon presses a kiss to Martin's cheek before settling back down. "Stop over thinking and cuddle with me before I fall asleep alone and am an arse tomorrow."

 

Jon is pulled from his thoughts by a soft tapping on the office's door frame. He looks up and sees Martin with his coffee and his signature orange sticky note. Jon gives a small smile. "Come on in."

 

Martin makes his way over and sits the coffee down, pressing a kiss to Jon's temple. "Happy anniversary Love. I've got some errands to run but I'll be done by the time it's time to go home."

 

"It's your turn to cook dinner." Jon responds, peeling the sticky note off of the cup but he looks up with a smile. 

 

"Of course. I'll see you tonight." Martin inclines his head before leaving.

 

Jon looks down at the note with a warm feeling in his chest. 

 

Relax your shoulders. Unclench your jaw. Remember to eat lunch. 

 

-Martin <3

 

In the bottom corner is a doodle of a honey bee. Jon puts it in the drawers with the others. 

[squid--inc--writes]

Inktober 2019 day 2: mindless. Art + story.

Update: Masterlist

Warning for gore, tell me if there's anything else to tag. Also, message me, or reblog this and and say tag me, if you want to be able to read my Inktober stories, and see my art.

The day they came, the strange folk, was the day everything changed. Of course, cliche as that is, and, frankly, obvious in that anything new will make change happen. But that doesn't matter.

It started with a family of five, all seemed normal enough, a nuclear family model, really. They made friends, had parties, all that suburban crap. 

However, they always seemed off. Maybe it was the way how, when asked a question, or presented with a decision, it was always a blink, then an answer. Never more, never less. I brought it up to other people, my parents, my friends, anyone. No one seemed to think anything of it. Which is fair, I guess. It's inconsequential, right?

However, one day, that family of five turned into a family of four. I asked what happened to their baby. I know my friend Cami would babysit for them when they were away, and she'd gush about how they were. They said they only had their two sweet babies here, and gestured to their kids playing in the pool with some other kids.

I knew Cami was upset the first time she came back home, wondering what could have possibly happened. But after a party two days later, she didn't even seem to remember the third kid. Like it never happened.

About four days after, I could tell something was wrong. See, a few of the neighbours started acting like them. They'd wait a blink to answer, always cheerful, but never unique. People stopped mowing their lawn, too. Stopped caring.

Only three families left not falling into the trap. The klines two houses down, the Smiths across the street, and us. 

I couldn't parse what we had in common. The Smiths and my family were having plumbing issues, so we couldn't use water. I thought, maybe that's it. But the Klines always have perfect plumbing, so that couldn't be it.

It wasn't until we started seeing the state of the street that my family believed me. Among grass, and litter, there were clumps of hair on the ground. Hair and… other debris. And the smell, God the smell. Something smelled rotten, and fermented. I could barely go outside anymore. When I did, I'd have to cover my face with a cloth doused in my mother's perfume.

Luckily, we didn't go outside much anymore. No one threw parties anymore. In fact, I don't think most people came outside anymore.

When our pipes finally got fixed, that was when I knew we fucked up. I got up in the middle of the night, woken up by loud noises. I followed them down to the basement, hiding at the top of the stairs, behind the door. I opened the door just a little, and looked through. There was mom, holding my unconscious sister. Dad was holding a tool I didn't recognize. It became quickly apparent what it was, as it sliced through her skin, expertly flaying it from the muscle below. It peeled away, like an orange. Hair falling out in clumps. She didn't even wake up. I don't know if that's good or bad. I hope she wasn't awake at least.

Dad set down the… the thing. And he walked to the sink next to the laundry machine. That's when the stench hit me. Once he turned on the tap, something disgusting, the same as outside, only ten times more concentrated came out. The water looked fine, though. He took a long swig of water, then turned, and handed to my mother.

 She stood, and said, "I'll go get Joanna."

With that, I didn't bother shutting the door. I just slunk away, as fast as possible, far away from the stairs. I know she hesitated, noticing the door was slightly open. They had to know. So I got out the back door, didn't bother closing it, and ran. Didn't go around front, I risked walking through the backyard behind us. Brandy Jefferson lived there. Or she used to. 

I snuck through, trying not to trip anything, when I wound up kicking something sticky, and soft. It blew up around my foot, I slid, slamming my back on the ground, and lay there in silent pain.

I looked at the mess, now staining me. Dark, viscous, and mushy below me. I thanked whoever I could when I looked, and saw that it was a very old pumpkin. Very, very old. And, hilariously, smelled better than the air around me.

I crawled my way up to my feet, and once again thanked whatever entity saw it fit to make my escape a little easier. The grass, which grew unnaturally tall, over my head, and the fence between our yards, his my escape, from my mother, who was now calling out for me.

I moved as silently as possible, making my way around the yard, and coming it to the side of the street. My decision to stay in the grass was probably the only thing that kept me from getting grabbed.

Walking before me, I saw the street filled to bursting with disgusting, pale, almost translucent skinned beings. They all also had thick dark lines around their eyes, almost like veins, but like a new system was trying to work its way through the body, rather than accept the old routes. The smell was more pungent here, than before.

I have to cover my mouth and nose, and I feel my eyes watering.

Making my way past the parade of sickness, I weave my way through yards until I wind up across from the Klines. I glance down to where the Smiths should be, and notice that their lawn has been overgrown, despite it being nice and neat only a few days earlier. I peak around and see, despite having been immaculate not ten minutes ago, my home is overgrown as well. The only clean yard is the Klines. However, in order to make it there, I'd have to get across the street, then their yard, and pray that they would let me in. And that they were fine too. All without being seen. 

I can still hear my name being called, but it's getting further, and further away. Hopefully. So, I brace myself, take in as much air as I can without gagging, and I bolt across the street.

Someone had to have seen me in the house, because the door opens, and I sprinted in, not stopping, and slam in the wall a short distance from the entrance. The door slams shut behind me, and I feel a large, sharp object pointed at me. Mrs. Kline is staring down at me, eyeing me.

She says, "You alright?"

I stare at her, eyes wide, before I start just sobbing. I'm not really sure if it was from terror, exhaustion, or what, but I just sob.

I distantly hear a lock, and Mrs. Kline yells "Bill, get some blankets and the first aid kit."

Sitting up, I look and see the Kline kids. I never actually learned their names, cause they were homeschooled and only went outside on rare occasions. I feel bad about never saying hi.

Once they look me over, I learn their names. Bill Kline, the father, Angela Kline, the mother, and their, turns out three kids, are Betty and Beatrice, identical twins, and Carlisle, the eldest daughter.

I wind up moving in with them, discovering that they have an underground farm, essentially. It's a good thing the HOA isn't around anymore. The amount of readjusted pipes, or purification system thrown in. Even their own electric supply. It seems almost too good to be true.

Which is why I, stupidly, stopped trusting them. Which is why I, in the dead of night, left the house, and, with no key, did not lock it.

Which is why I was the death of the Klines. They could have been evil, they could have been good, but I never gave them a chance to prove it. Although, they already did so much for me.

So, on that night, I checked the street, closed the door, and snuck into another yard, having stolen a good amount of water and food. I thought I would be in the clear, but I should have known better.

I tried to leave the neighborhood, but it seemed to go on. Endless. What I finally realized was that, while it wasn't endless, it was being made to be. 

Buildings torn down to be made into houses. It got to a point where, although there were plenty of similarities, it was eerily different. Just enough, in just the right ways, that it was concerning.

I finally gave up on reaching the end. I knew I wouldn't be able to get past whoever was building it. How could I? Instead, I climbed a roof, in the dead of night, after days of walking, and tried to see anything.

At the center of the strange design being built with the houses, I saw it. The water processing plant. I could feel a bad idea rising.

Making my way there, sleeping in the grass during the day, and walking, walking, walking during the night. I still saw them, but none of them veered off course.

They would flood the streets after sunrise, and be gone before the afternoon. They would then return before sunset, and stay in their homes. the lawns weren't as safe as I'd like, but they'd have to do.

However, as time progressed, and I ran out of food, I could have sworn the sky was changing. While the time of day would be easily clear to see, there was a rolling smog that began to fill the sky. It made everything darker, easier to hide, but harder to breathe.

When I finally got to the center, that smell that I had gotten so used to, increased tenfold; so thick that I could bite a chunk out of the air, if I wanted to puke.

Fueled by the thought that, perhaps, there will be a section where maybe I can get clean water. Maybe I didn't ruin my chance.

That thought changed however, when I saw the hanging bodies of the Klines. Not flayed like everyone else, no.

Solid, bloody. I couldn't tell how they were hung there, but I could see stretched skin behind each of them. Not wanting to look any longer, I shifted my gaze. There, in the center of the pool, was a small bundle of sludge, pulsating, and whining.

I stepped forward, pulled by an unseen force, and crouch by the side of the water. Well, it looked like it once was.once close enough, it screamed out, the sound of a baby having a temper tantrum, but louder. Always more than what it should be, I couldn't stand it.

Covering my ears, and clenching my eyes shut, I didn't feel the push, but I certainly felt the fall. Then I didn't feel anything. I didn't think anything. My mind uploaded somewhere else, as a freak experiment, and my body…

My body left mindless.

[peantbutter-honeycombs]

Forever and Always - Part 3

Title: Forever and Always

Word count: 978

Characters: Blu and Girl

Warnings: Angst, crappy writing

Notes: I made this all the way back in 2017. Never got around to doing much with it. Shame. I enjoyed writing it. Even though it made me sad. So I’m posting it, unedited here.

———

September 21, 2018

One parent who doesn't care for his daughter. He sees her as an accessory, she’s only needed for formal events so that his coworkers know that she actually exist. That is my relationship with my father or as I more commonly call him the monster.

"How was school today?" The monster asks, his face hidden behind a newspaper. That's what makes me despise him I can't recall the last time I saw his face. "It was fine, I have a big science fair coming up. My teacher said my project is amazing, Blu is even part of it." I boast proudly, ever since I’d quit baseball I'd had time to work on my grades. I am kind of known to be a nerd but that doesn't bother me.

"Is that so, how nice," the monster responds. He turns the page, he doesn't seem proud of me he never does."Dad maybe…maybe you could come?" I suggest mindlessly twirling my fork in the air. He chuckles before answering, "I don't think so Champ, maybe next time."

There won't be a next time. This is my last year at home next year I’m going to college in California. I want to go to art school to learn animation techniques. I’m going to work for Disney. Maybe I’ll even make a short about Blu. "Oh okay, I think I'll go eat up in my room." I whisper, I don't know why I'd gotten my hopes up.

"That's fine Champ," the monster grumbles.

I take my time taking my plate off the red velvet table cloth. Slowly I make my way down the empty hallway, pictures of the monster decorate the wall. Blu whimpers probably sensing my sadness, I just ignore him. I quietly tiptoe up the flight of stairs careful not to make a sound. I gently turn the golden doorknob then lightly push the door open.

My bedroom is beautiful it's a true symbol of everything I love. Twinkle lights hang from the ceiling like scattered pixie dust. The walls are painted a beautiful Royal blue the same color as the night sky. Various dog toys and Disney knickknacks are scattered across my desk. Multiple sketches of Blu and other characters conjured from my own imagination litter the wall.

I push a few random things out of the way then grab my apple laptop. Flipping the top open I frown, sticky notes off various colors and shapes decorate the screen creating a collage. I quickly peel them off making a mental not to trust my friend with my laptop ever again.

I bite my lip waiting for Skype to load up. Blu jumps up and lays down on my lap. The dummy thinks he's a lap dog when in reality he's crushing my legs. I don't try to move him, he's just trying to comfort me. Blu knows my relationship with the monster isn't as it should be.

My best human friend's smiling face pops up on the monitor making my face break into a grin. "Hey Tom how's it going?" I greet trying to contain my laughter but ultimately failing. Tom was pulling off the most adorkable face I'd ever seen. I only wish I could see it in person.

"You okay Libs you seem a little down in the dumps?" He asks seriously. Tom is awesome, he's funny and very considerate. He takes my sadness very seriously, he almost beat a kid up at my school up once because the bully made me burst into tears, which is pretty hard to do.

Tom and I met on the busy streets of NYC we literally crashed into each other. Blu had decided it would be fun to chase a kid with a hot dog, I can tell you it wasn't. Lucky for me a kind boy my age caught him before he ran into the streets. Tom and I have been friends ever since, though sometimes I think Tom loves Blu more than me.

"I guess so it's just my father. He can't come to the science fair." I sigh twirling a strand of hair with my finger. Tom furrows his brow in confusion,"did he give you a reason?" I shake my head making my long tangled hair whip from side to side. "Nope," I say licking my salty lips loudly popping the 'p'.

"Hey you've still got me and Blu." Tom offers, I shrug gently petting Blu's soft fur. "Yep, a dork and a dog, what more could a girl need?" I snort, Tom chuckles. In the background I can hear someone yelling his name. "Hey I've gotta go Libs, mom calls. Talk to ya later," he says giving me a small wave goodbye.

"See ya later Tom." I whisper tightly hugging Blu's neck like he was a pillow.

"Okay Blu what do you wanna do?" I mutter into his fur, he snuffs getting dog snot on my leg. I gag sometimes my best friend can be really be disgusting but I put up with it. Blu has always been there for me, he's hasn't really left my side since I'd adopted him. I couldn't remember a time where Blu hadn't been there to comfort and console me. He loved me for me, not because he felt obligated to, but because he is my best friend.

Blu is my best friend I care about him more than my own life. I'd put myself in harms way to protect him if I had to. Blu is my entire world, in my opinion Blu is the center of the universe. My life would be incomplete without him. Blu has always loved me unconditionally, he has always been there for me, Blu would never leave me. It's Blu and I against the world forever and always.