Deaf Prohero!Bakugo, Who Woke Up In The Hospital After A Tough Battle, Only To Realize He Had Lost His

Emergency Rescue Squad by Belly W

I would literally do anything to make him happy.

Niffler’s Character gifset:

Sam Morgan Drake || Uncharted 4: A Thief’s End [4/?]

Follow me on Instagram @ DeanDrawsArt to catch updates about this Kickstarter! :)

I'm overwhelmed with joy — I'm crying tears of happiness and giggling uncontrollably. The final drawing depicting viking Dabi battling his brother, the self-proclaimed earl Shoto, is simply breathtaking. A huge thank you goes out to the amazing @explosion-island for bringing Kvitravn story to life ♥

Lake Natron. Ewaso Ngiro delta.

I blogged about our experience with @onetouchlive in this place. It was just a one nighter but oh boy, the stories. The best thing is that the blog post got picked by Getaway magazine. A travel magazine in South Africa. So I guess you can now say I’m a travel writer. Woop. Woop.

#OnetouchLive #OnetouchLive_Natron

Purified

Kinktober Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Warnings: Shower sex – unprotected sex, creampie.

Author's Note: You won't see any of the Daredevil suit in my Kinktober (not that it's bad) because I believe in BLACK SUIT SUPREMACY 😤🙌

GIF credit: @daredevil---love

Propping yourself on your elbow, you blinked slowly as the movie before you came to an end. The credits rolled, and you didn’t feel any more sleepy than you did two films ago. You heaved a long and weary sigh, adding another sleepless night to your mental scoreboard. Prescribed pills helped, but you didn’t want to depend on them too much like you used to. Nevertheless, what you had switched to was far more addictive. Or rather, someone else. 

How ironic.

The door to the rooftop opened, making way for heavy and unhurried footsteps to descend the stairs. The treads bowed under the added weight, creating creaky sounds all the way down. You sprang up from the couch and met Matt at the bottom of the stairs. The neon light from the building across covered him in a sheer lustre of blinking colours, revealing just enough of the blood splattered on his neck and the bottom half of his face. 

Matt was breathing hard while you kept yours as quiet as you could. It wasn’t out of fear that he might hurt you but of anticipation for what he wanted from you. An embrace? Some means of release? Bandages and ointment? Silence and comfort? Whatever it was, you were always happy to provide.

Matt had made up his mind when he crossed the remaining distance between you, pulling you towards him. Your lips clashed in a dance, gentle but fervent, full of desperation. To be closer, to be consumed whole. To feel the gentle friction instead of the blunt force of skin on skin. To forget.  

You were worried for him but allowed yourself to go with the flow for a moment. He was here with you, his heart beating thunderously underneath your palm. Matt didn’t seem to be injured with the way he rushed to rid of the black suit. You helped him peel the shirt off his back, which was drenched with sweat and damp blood. Your hand reached for the belt while he worked to remove the satin nightgown you wore. You tugged his pants down, making the makeshift batons clatter onto the floor. Matt stepped out of the pants, and you took him by the hands, leading him into the bathroom.

You turned the light on and took him in fully under the fluorescent light. He was panting hard, his breathing shaky, his lips swollen and red, his eyes wide and unblinking. The specks of blood decorated his skin was smudged, and your gaze moved down to find no major injury to your relief, just some bruises. You stared at where you connected to see the crimson stain on your and his hands. You didn’t have to say anything, and neither did he. You knew what he needed. Leading him into the shower, you turned on the water, letting it fall on the warmer side. 

Standing under the spray, Matt let you gently scrub away the evidence of the night. Your hands washed away the sweat and dirt in his hair with his unscented shampoo, the grimes and blood on his skin with your soothing body wash. You smoothed your palms over the bruises when Matt dipped his head to nuzzle your neck. You held him close, kissing his wet shoulder, letting him know he could take the lead. Matt lifted his head and sought your lips out. You eagerly responded to his need with all you had, feeling lightheaded in the steamy room. The kiss was a pure primal need, and you clung to each other as if you needed the other to breathe. You tugged at his hair, earning a deep groan from him. Matt moved to kiss your jaw, descending onto the column of your throat, sucking hard on your pulse to the point where pain and pleasure blended together. 

His hands braced at either side of your thighs, and in a swift movement, he picked you up. Your legs wrapped around his slim waist, your arms winded around his shoulders for balance. Matt wasted no time, lowering you onto his aching cock. The stretch drew a harmony of unrestrained moans from your throats, and you stayed like that for a moment when he finally bottomed out. Your heart was pounding, your walls clenched around his length. Matt groaned at the snug fit and needy squeeze, taking a deep breath and focusing not to come right then. 

After a long moment, his hands moved from your thighs to grab your ass, moving you up and down on his cock. You tried to assist him with small swivels and grinds of your hips. The room was steamy from the running water and your shared breaths, tangling in an intricate web of moans and cries. 

Matt pressed you to the misted tiles on the wall and began to set at a brutal pace. You clung to him as a fresh wave of pleasure hit you; your legs fought for purchase around him. You tilted your head down to pull him into a kiss with the water running over you, between your open mouths. You couldn’t last much longer, and he knew it. His head burrowed into your neck, and his thrusts became brutal, almost punishing. All that came out of you were meaningless babble and pitiful sobs. Your brain had turned to mush; all you could think of was Matt and the feeling of his cock in your tight cunt. It was pure greed, the way your walls held onto him, fluttering around him like he was the only thing that mattered. The only one you had ever known. You screamed as you came, and Matt followed after a few pumps with a broken groan. You held still, feeling the tiles digging uncomfortably onto your back, but you didn’t want his throbbing cock to leave you empty just yet. You tiredly caressed his hair, making him almost purr in bliss. Matt pulled out slowly and gently, making you wince at the loss. You felt the trickle of release run down your thighs, joining the warm water to the drain. He set you down onto your shaky legs but held onto your waist to keep you steady. Still catching your breath, you finally spoke for the first time since Matt returned.

“Are you okay?”

The small smile he gave you was a blessed sight. Matt closed in, pressing a tender kiss on your cheek.

“I’m much better now. Couldn’t sleep?”

“Mm hm. I was waiting for somebody to wear me out.”

He smirked, and the thoughts that followed in your head were sinful enough to make a sinner blush. 

“Oh yeah? How about we continue this in the bedroom?”

Your answer was a breathy whisper into his parted lips. 

“Yes, please.”

*Likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!*

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until his last breath

pairing: best friend!bucky barnes x reader

summary: when your best friend finds you destroying all the stuffed animals your cheater boyfriend gave you, he comforts you and buys you a new one.

warnings: hurt/comfort, fluff, reader is cheated on by male oc, possessive bucky, pet names (bunny), violence committed against stuffed animals

word count: 1.7k

a/n: day 8 of my 30 day writing trope challenge was heartbreak and uhhhh this is probably not what anyone was expecting. i just don't like writing angst/sad things!! hurt/comfort was as close as i could get, but i hope y'all enjoy it all the same!!

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When your best friend Bucky Barnes walked into your room—having let himself into your apartment with the spare key you’d given him for emergencies—he found you sitting on the floor surrounded by the fluff and carcasses of multiple stuffed animals. Your tear-stained face was twisted into a look somewhere between devastation and righteous anger. 

Not noticing the presence of your best friend right away, you stabbed the stuffed walrus in your hand with a pair of scissors, tearing a hole in its soft outer layer as white fuzz erupted from the fake animal’s stomach. You ripped the fluffy stuffing out with a wild zeal, tears still tracking down your face. 

With smooth, deft movements, Bucky plucked the scissors from your hands and tossed them out of reach onto your bed before hunkering down beside you. “Wanna tell me what this massacre is all about, bunny?” he asked gently, dragging your hands away from the now destroyed walrus and pulling them up to his mouth so he could kiss each of your fingers—and ensure you hadn’t cut yourself with the scissors.

Fresh tears welled up in your eyes as you looked up at your best friend, and it took you a couple tries before you could get the words out. “T-tyler cheated on me,” you mumbled, all the fight going out of you. Your body sagged against Bucky’s shoulder, and he wound an arm around your back, holding you tight against him. “He admitted it to me.”

Rage like nothing he’d ever known burned through Bucky’s chest and it took a moment for him to get it under control, otherwise he’d storm out of your apartment and track down that son of a bitch and beat him bloody. “I’m so sorry, bunny,” Bucky murmured when he’d leashed his anger. He dropped a kiss to the top of your head, taking comfort in how you smelled so sweet. “You can do better than that asshole,” he promised. You can have me, Bucky thought, but he kept that to himself. He knew the time wasn’t right.

“I just can’t believe I wasted four fucking years with him,” you admitted on a sigh. “I feel like such an idiot.” You snuggled closer to Bucky and he grinned into your hair, pulling you into his lap so you could press yourself as close as you wanted. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, your hands fisting in the front of his t-shirt like you were afraid he’d try to pull away. “And the worst part…” you started to say but trailed off as a fresh sob wracked your body and new tears fell.

Bucky, who’d started rubbing your back, murmured soothingly into your ear, “It’s okay, bunny, let it out, cry as much as you want, sweet girl, you can tell me when you’re ready.” His heart broke for you. He felt like, with every sob, you opened up his chest and strangled his heart bit by bit. You were his best friend and he loved you—he was in love with you—and he hated seeing you like this, especially over some dickhead like Tyler. 

“And the worst part,” you said, sniffling and wiping at your eyes with your fingers. Bucky reached for the tissues on your bedside table and handed one to you. You blew your nose before continuing. “Is that he told me it was my fault.” Your voice was a little indignant, but more defeated—and Bucky didn’t like that at all.

“How the fuck could his wandering dick be your fault, bunny?” Bucky demanded in as gentle a tone as he could manage. You turned your face into Bucky’s shirt, and he gave you the moment to collect yourself, squeezing you tight to his chest to let you know he had you. 

“He said I spend too much time with you, that I love you more than I ever loved him, and so it was my fault that he had to fuck other people,” you explained, before devolving into sobs that made your shoulders shake and your whole body tremble. 

“Oh bunny,” Bucky murmured comfortingly, even as his heart pounded with a wicked satisfaction. He was secretly glad that Tyler knew who you truly belonged to, though he would’ve preferred if the shithead had just bowed out gracefully instead of hurting you. “Tyler is the only one responsible for cheating,” Bucky said firmly. He cupped your face in his hand and tilted it up until he could look down into your eyes. “You’re perfect, there’s something wrong with him if he can’t see that.” 

A few more tears fell from the corners of your eyes and Bucky brushed them away gently with his thumb. He couldn’t help but notice the way your lips were swollen. He knew it was from all the crying, but his body warmed at the thought of seeing your lips swollen for an entirely different reason—one that had something to do with him kissing you senseless. But Bucky hid that thought, and tried not to stare at your mouth too long, though you didn’t seem to notice.

“Now,” Bucky rasped as he cleared his mind of all the dirty things he wanted to do to your mouth. “You still haven’t told me what led to the great stuffie massacre?” he said, picking up the soft outside of a no-longer-stuffed cow. 

A heavy sigh fell from your lips, your warm breath ghosting over Bucky’s chest through his thin t-shirt. “They were all from Tyler,” you explained, looking around at the devastation with no remorse. “I couldn’t stand to look at them anymore.”

Bucky nodded his understanding and pressed a kiss to your forehead. He held you while you cried some more, only too happy to comfort you while you mourned your now-ended relationship. All the while, he planned and plotted. He wasn’t going to let you forget that he treated you better than Tyler ever had—than anyone else ever could—and that he could be so much better for you. Bucky was sure that once the heartbreak lessened, you’d fall into his arms, right where you were always meant to be.

Once you’d cried yourself out, Bucky stood up with you in his arms and lay you down gently on your bed. You curled up on your side, clutching a pillow to your chest since you didn’t have any stuffed animals left. Bucky got a trash bag and cleaned up all the detritus left from your massacre, until there weren’t any traces left of the stuffed animals Tyler had given you.

When it was done, Bucky helped you up and convinced you to go somewhere with him, though he refused to tell you where you were going. You tried to protest, saying your face was a puffy mess, but he quelled your protests with gentle kisses to your cheeks and forehead, insisting you were beautiful. And you were, to him. You’d always be beautiful to Bucky.

Your best friend took you to a store in the local mall that had a whole wall filled with soft, squishy stuffed animals. “Pick out a new stuffie, bunny, and I’ll buy it for you,” Bucky murmured in your ear. He was eager to have you cuddling something he’d bought for you.

Delighted, you skipped along the wall, looking at each of the different shapes and sizes and animals. After much deliberating, you plucked a stuffed brown bunny rabbit from the wall and carried it back to Bucky. It had soft fur and floppy ears and Bucky gave an approving nod as he turned it over in his hands.

“A bunny for my bunny,” he murmured with a grin as he tucked you into his side and brought the stuffed animal up to the checkout counter. When it was paid for, Bucky handed it back to you, and you carried it out of the mall. “So what’re you naming him?”

“Barnaby,” you answered without hesitation, like you’d already decided on it long before Bucky’d asked. 

When you got back to your apartment, you snagged Bucky’s hand and towed him inside like you were afraid he’d consider leaving, but he’d had no plans to. Your fingers twisted with his and you led him back to your bedroom, carrying Barnaby along as well, where you both curled up on the bed. Bucky held you with your back to his chest, while your new stuffie was cradled in your arms. 

“You’ll always love me, right, Buck?” you asked in a hesitant voice.

Your best friend knew your voice well and he could hear fear in your tone. Instinctively, he squeezed you tighter in his arms, hoping to reassure you of his steadiness in your life. He wanted you to know that you could always rely on him. “Of course, bunny,” he answered.

For a moment, you were silent again and Bucky thought you’d started to fall asleep, but then your soft, worried voice broke the quiet. “You promise?” you asked in an even more hushed whisper, like you were ashamed of asking but needed to know the answer all the same.

Forever, was what Bucky wanted to say. But instead, he wrapped his hand around yours where it was clutching your new stuffed animal. “You see your new pal Barnaby here?” he murmured gently, waiting for you to nod your head, your hair tickling his chin, before continuing. “I’ll love you until his last breath, bunny.” 

With you sighing contentedly in his arms, Bucky could feel his heart being stitched back together and he knew, though you were still hurt and raw from your own heartbreak, that you were soothed by his presence too. He held you until you fell asleep, and until he followed you to dreamland some time after that. 

When Bucky woke in the morning, he was still holding you, and he couldn’t think of anything better than waking up with you every single morning for the rest of his life. When your eyelashes fluttered and you turned your face to smile sleepily at your best friend, Bucky knew you felt it too—that you were exactly where you were meant to be. With him.

⫸⫸30 Day Writing Trope Challenge Masterlist⫷⫷

getting better at him 🫶

Prompt #15

"On my God. You saved my life!" Civilian beamed, hugging Villain, who stood stiffly, shocked. "You're really not that bad! I'm going to tell everyone and clear your name."

"Oh-wait!" Villain called after them, raising a gloved hand.

It was too late, Civilian had vanished.

Villain groaned, massaging his temples. "Oh, the guys are going to give me so much flak for this."