#My box of Frozen dolls

[tiredofthehumanlife]

That's quite cliche oh the boss and his nanny

Barbie dolls: hotch x gn! Nanny! Reader

Word: 2.6k

Summary: hotch asks you stay at his house bc it late and shenanigans happen oh my god holy shit read it please and thank you

Warning: hotch points gun at you, you're a nanny, you have nightmares, mentioned that your hair stands up from sleeping on it weird but it doesn't mention texture I pinkie promise, hotch touches your hair once, jack really loves lightning McQueen, shots (metaphorical) at throw blankets and suburban houses, you say oh my god, that's it I think

It was usual for the team to go out to a restaurant after a long case. So just like usual after the team was off the jet and standing in the hallway, Penelope asked if anybody wanted food. The team answered with different forms of yes. Then after a moment of silence, all eyes turned to Hotch. He looked up from his phone, glancing around. 

“So you coming or what?” Emily asked. Hotch shook his head sending you a message telling you he was on his way. He heard a few groans in response. His lips tipped a smidge. 

“I have to get home and tell my nanny to go home,” Hotch said, frowning at your lack of a response. It wasn’t too late, you were usually awake at this time. Morgan hummed in a taunting tone. 

”Workaholic? You have to shoo them out with a broom?” Morgan asked. Hotch glared at Morgan and stepped into the elevator. Rossi made a sad sound. 

“I think you hurt his feelings,” Rossi said, tilting his head at Morgan. Morgan let out a laugh. Hotch rolled his eyes as the elevator doors closed, leaving him alone. He stared down at his message, still with no response. He felt a wave of worry wash over him. He considered calling you but thought maybe he was just being parnoid. Hotch let it slide and slipped his phone back into his pocket. He still let his worry simmer in the back of his head on the ride home. When he unlocked his front door and pushed it open, he felt another wave of worry add to his shoulders. 

The lights were off which meant one of two things. You both went to bed early or there was a break-in. He dropped his keys into the bowl next to the door, setting his case down next to his shoes. Hotch quietly walked through the house finding more and more lights off. When he reached the living room he caught on. 

The big light was off but the lamp was on. The tv was still playing the credits of a Scooby Doo movie. Hotch hummed now understanding. He looked over the edge of the couch and saw you asleep on the couch. Your sweater was balled up and shoved under your head. Your phone was sitting on the coffee table. Your arm was slung over the edge of the couch, resting on the floor. Hotch saw the remote sitting just barely in your hand. Jack was no where to be seen but he saw a juice box and a halfway-eaten bowl of popcorn on the coffee table. Hotch hummed, assuming Jack already left for his bed. He leaned over the edge of the couch and gently shook your arm. 

You didn’t budge, you were out cold. Hotch looked up when he heard movement behind him. He looked behind him to see Jack standing frozen three steps behind Hotch. Jack was holding a bowl of ice cream with a spoon sticking out the top. He was in his pajamas still, and his slippers that lit up when he took a step on his feet. Hotch raised an eyebrow at Jack. Jack stared at Hotch, knowing he was caught breaking the ‘no sweets after 8’ rule. 

“Hello, Father,” Jack said, obviously nervous. Hotch hummed and leaned against the couch. 

“Whatcha doing bud?” Jack glanced down at the bowl of ice cream with his favorite lighting McQueen spoon. 

“Just getting them some ice cream,” Jack said, gesturing to you. You let out a snore that made Hotch sure you’d been out for most of the movie. Hotch hummed. 

“How about this, how about you go put that bowl in the freezer? We’ll pretend this didn’t happen and you can have that ice cream tomorrow night?” Hotch said. Jack looked down at the bowl, pouting. His shoulders sank and he turned on his heel, heading back to the kitchen. Jack came back a few minutes later and hugged Hotch’s legs. Hotch pulled him off the ground and hugged him tighter. Jack laughed and Hotch groaned as he set him back down. 

“Go get ready for bed and I’ll be in to read you a story,” Hotch said. After a few grumpy mumbles from Jack he left for the bathroom, getting ready to brush his teeth. Hotch turned back to you. He shook you a little rougher making your eyes peel open. He called your name to lead you back to real life through your slumber. You squinted and sat up on your elbow. Hotch heard the remote clatter to the ground. You looked around. Taking in your surroundings. You looked up at him, looking even more confused. 

“Aaron?” Hotch hummed in response. You sat up all the way. Hotch reached out to tame the back of your hair. Apparently, sweaters made your hair stand up when sleeping on them. You furrowed your eyebrows and rubbed at your eye. 

“What time is it?” You asked. Hotch stayed leaned over the back of the couch, watching you with a smile. Even with your sleep and confusion lacing your every word, you were still breathtaking. Hotch hummed. 

“Little past nine.” You groaned, flopping back onto the couch. You tucked your sweater back under your head. 

“Five more minutes.” You huffed. Hotch snorted and pulled on your arm. 

“Come on, I can’t let you sleep on the couch. It won’t be very comfortable.” You peeked one eye at him. 

“Then carry me home.” Hotch rolled his eyes. 

“Oh I would, but I have to tuck Jack in,” Hotch said, pointing over at Jack’s bedroom. You sat up and looked at his door. You looked back to Hotch with a frown and twitch in your eye that made Hotch want to massage your concern away. He didn’t, keeping his hands on the couch. 

“He’s not already asleep?” Hotch shook his head. “Oh, I'm sorry. I just passed out. I didn’t mean to, it was a long day, and I-“ Hotch shushed you, reaching over to rub your upper arm. 

“I don’t mind. You’re an amazing nanny. I don’t think Jack cared either, her was making himself a bowl of ice cream when I got here.” Hotch said, letting his hand linger on your arm even though he knew it was inappropriate professional behavior. You frowned harder. 

“Oh damn it, he knows the no sweets after 8 rule.” Hotch let his hand drag up to your shoulder and rub it. Your frown dissapearred and you hummed. You shut your eyes as Hotch added his other hand to your free shoulder. 

“You don’t have to go home. It is pretty late. I could set up the guest bedroom for you.” Hotch whispered, staring over your head to watch the credits. You hummed and leaned your head back. 

“I can’t do that. I don’t want to impede.” You said, keeping your eyes closed as Hotch massaged your shoulders. 

“You’re not impeding. I’m offering. I don’t want you to drive tired. Just stay, you can leave in the morning before Jack wakes up.” Hotch said, glancing over at the bathroom. Jack’s Lightning McQueen's toothbrush was still singing. You picked your head up, peeling your eyes open. 

“Are you sure?” Hotch clicked his tongue, pulling his hands away. You glared at him, following him with your eyes as he joined you on the couch. 

“I want you here. You’re not a burden or impeding. Stay, please.” Hotch said, reaching out to hold onto your hand. You pressed your lips together, humming sadly. 

“Right well, I’m stealing a throw blanket or something.” You said, standing from the couch. Hotch nodded and gave you a soft smile. 

“Okay. Sleep tight, I’ll make sure Jake doesn’t wake you up.” Hotch said before heading towards Jack’s bedroom to tuck him in. You drifted off to the guest bedroom. 

You didn’t sleep well. It started nicely, the room was pretty. The sheets were nice. The pillows were soft, and yet you still had a horrific nightmare. It left you clammy and breathless. You were shooting out of the bed that was not yours and checking the bedroom windows to make sure they were locked. Which settled your stomach for a moment but then you thought of all the windows and doors in the house. It was a little strange to be paranoid over a nightmare but maybe it was a reminder to be extra safe. 

You pulled the stupid throw blanket sitting on the edge of the bed over your shoulders and quietly made your way to the nearest window. As you checked the locks, you wondered why suburban homes seemed to always have pointless throw blankets as decor. No one used them, they all felt like sandpaper. Why’d they do that? Furthermore, why did Aaron have them? Is he using the throw blankets? You moved through the kitchen, the window above the sink was unlocked. You stepped into the living room, checking the sliding patio door. It ws locked. You moved to the windows next to it behind the small desk for Jack. You heard a gun cock. 

“Don’t move.” 

Your surroundings were shed in a light from behind you. You froze and wondered if it was Jack’s nightlight. You slowly held your hands up. You heard Aaron mutter your name. You slowly turned around to face him, the dumb throw blanket falling to the floor. Aaron lowered his gun, clicking the safety back on and setting it down on the nearby kitchen counter. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Aaron asked. You felt slightly taken aback at the fact he just cursed at you. 

“Checking the locks.” You whispered, glancing back at the window. Aaron threw his hands out, placing them on his hips. 

“And you have to do that in the middle of the night while sounding like a burgalar? I thought you were a murderer or something.” Aaron said, glancing around the room. 

“I just got anxious-you pointed a gun at me.” You said. Your brain was catching up with the fact that Aaron could’ve killed you. Aaron glanced over at his gun resting on the counter. He looked back at you apologetically. 

“I did, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I overreacted, that’s my fault. Did I scare you?” Aaron asked, taking a step closer to you. 

“I had a nightmare that someone broke in and took Jack so I wanted to check the locks.” You said, staring at the floor. Aaron cooed and you felt a tear slip past your waterline. You weren’t entirely sure why you were crying. It could’ve been your fear that Jack would get hurt or it could’ve been the fact you were just faced with your own mortality even if it was just for a second. Aaron closed the distance, wrapping you in a hug. You gripped the back of his pajama shirt, pretending your boots weren’t totally, fully, absolutely shaken. 

Eventually, you stopped crying and Aaron dragged your shaken form to his bedroom. He took the gun with him. Aaron sat you on the edge of the bed as he set his gun away in his safe. He sat next to you once it locked. 

“Are you alright?” You kept your eyes on the floor, seeing that he picked a really strange carpet that was a strange mix of blue, green, and white. Aaron reached out and patted your shoulder, whispering your name. 

“Did you pick this carpet?” You asked, keeping your eyes on it. Aaron scoffed. 

“What?” You stayed silent, giving him time to think over his answer. “No. It was-“ 

“Good, ‘cause it’s hideous.” You said, kicking your foot on the carpet. Dishelved it was even uglier. You thought you might get nauseous if you kept looking at it. Aaron squeezed your shoulder. 

“You sure you’re okay?” He asked. You shrugged. 

“Fine, you just have ugly carpet in here. And untrustworthy locks. And scary guns.” You said, sighing at the memory of Aaron’s gun aimed at your back. Aaron sighed next to you. 

“I really am sorry.” You mocked his tone. Aaron pulled his hand away from your shoulder. 

“I thought it was funny.” You whispered. Aaron shook his head. 

“You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?” Aaron asked. You scoffed. 

“Um excuse me? Who was it that packed your son’s lunch and picked him up from school today? Oh, that’s right, me! You ought to watch who you’re talking to.” You said. Aaron had a smile playing at the corners of his lips as he opened his mouth to retort. 

“Oh is that how we’re playing it?” You nodded. “Right and who determines your paycheck? Oh, that’s right, me!” Aaron said, pointing to himself. 

“Maybe we drop it. I’m good with my job as it is, thank you.” You said, looking back at the ugly carpet. Aaron pulled you into a side hug, shaking you lightly for a moment. 

“I’m sorry for tonight. It won’t happen again, I swear it.” Aaron whispered against your temple. 

“You’re absolutely positive you had no hand in this carpet decision?” You asked, pointing at the ground. Aaron pulled away from you, letting out a scoffing laugh. 

“Why are you so set on this?” You ignored him, really focused on the stupid almost teal. 

“I mean it’s so hideous. If you did have anything to do with this, I don’t think we could be friends anymore.” You said, laughing through your words. Aaron didn’t laugh though and you felt a pang of regret strike your heart. 

“We’re just friends?” Aaron asked, staring at you with his freaky constantly serious face. You paused, keeping your eyes off the floor so you’d stay focused. 

“Just?” You repeated, squinted at him. Aaron shook his head and looked down at the carpet. 

“Well I was just-“ 

“Oh. My. God.” You pulled yourself off the bed, pacing in front of Aaron. “You totally fell for the nanny. Do you realize how cliche that is? You’re so lucky I’m a freelancer. If I was a part of an organization, they’d have my head.” 

“Why would your hypotetical organization have your head? I’m the one that’s attracted to my employee, not the other-“ Aaron paused as he seemed to piece it together. 

“you totally fell for your boss, Nanny. Do you realize how cliche that is?” You glared at him for throwing your words back in your face. 

“Just for that, I’m stealing a throw blanket and a pillow.”  You said, shoving his arm. Hotch rocked for a second,  before stalliing and giving you a small smile. He sucked in a breath. 

“You know,” Aaron paused. “If that nightmare is still bothering you, you could stay in here tonight.” You paused your pacing, quirking a smile at him. You stepped closer to him, slipping your arms over his shoulders. Aaron’s hand ventured from his lap to the back of your thighs, warming your legs. 

“Yeah? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You asked, though you already knew the answer. Aaron nodded his head, pulling you closer to him. He stared up at you with a glint in his eye that made you grin. He squeezed your thighs. You let your arms slide further on his shoulder, moving your faces closer together. Aaron tilted his head back, looking up at you. You knocked your nose with him, pressing your lips against his. Aaron hummed into your mouth, letting his hands on the back of your thighs travel up. You pulled back just a smidge, a breath filling the space between you too. 

“I’m staying in here tonight.” You whispered. Aaron nodded, tilting his head back up. 

“Good plan. Kiss me again?” You obliged his demands, meeting his lips again. 

[courtingchaos]

Teeth

Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

Summary: You and Eddie are freaks. He has a little accident, you have a fun little hobby, and he shows you how he really feels about you’re whole Deal.

Warnings: Teeth. I mention them a lot. Blood, cursing, sex.

A/N: Did I start another blurb series before even publishing the series I was supposed to start last month? Shut the hell up oh my god why are you up my ass about it????

18+ NSFW No Minors

Eddie hooks his chin on your shoulder while you stare at the giant shadow box on the wall.

“Are they all human teeth?”

“Mhm.”

“Isn’t it illegal to own human remains in the US?”

“Well, remains and bones are different categories.”

He knew that would set you off, your phone pulled out for google to fill in your blanks. Eddie laughs at the first result, The Bone Room, and the two of you get a good chuckle out of it for a solid minute.

“Okay so I was wrong, but do you want to own a random set of teeth? What if they’re haunted?” Eddie watches your reflection in the glass front and can’t help but laugh when your eyes go big.

“One could only hope.” You whisper.

“Okay Morticia.” He leaves you to peruse the case of teeth while he wanders over to the weird clown doll corner. This was another little oddities shop you’d found online and asked to go to and he was more than happy to oblige. He also liked weird shit and there was usually a record store close to these kinds of places and of course you needed to find a coffee shop and it would always turn into a fun day date for the two of you.

When he finally gets away from the dolls he finds you at the main counter looking into the glass display while the clerk explains the jewelry inside.

“What’d you find?” He asks, bending directly in half to stare at the tray of rings in front of you.

“More teeth.” You give him an over the top smile that he returns, snapping his jaws at you while the poor woman behind the counter watches your flirting. She tells you prices instead of paying the two of you any mind and you hem and haw while Eddie just takes his wallet out to slide his card across the glass.

“Ed.” You don’t even look up at him when you warn him.

“Which one was it? Is it the big molar? It’s the big molar isn’t it?” He gives the clerk a scoff. “Can you believe this? I take her out here and she thinks I’m not buying her a tooth ring?”

In the cafe you’d found ahead of time you inspect your new ring while he chews on his straw, watching your rub the crown of the tooth.

“You really didn’t have to buy me this.” The barista comes over then with your coffee and a massive croissant. “Or that.”

“What? It’s a sweet treat for my sweet treat.” He tears a piece off and wiggles his eyebrows. “Also a sweet tooth for my sweet tooth.”

“Now you’re pushing it, Munson.”

“You love it.” He pauses when you kick his boot under the table and it turns into a violent round of footsie.

“Can I ask why teeth?”

“I don’t know. I just think they’re neat.” You shrug and fiddle with the ring on your middle finger. “They make a cool sound if you click a handful together. Very satisfying.”

“Yeah?” The smile is evident in his voice, even if you don’t look up to see it. “Sure there’s nothing else?” He goads, waiting for you to look up and narrow your eyes at him.

“And maybe I also want to crunch them like a sugar cube.” You make the exact face he thought you would and it makes him feel a warm coil of familiarity.

“There it is.”

“What?”

“I knew you wanted to do something weird with it.” His laugh turns into a cackle when you discreetly bring your hand up to click the ring against your front teeth.

“Okay so if it’s loose like…No I mean I can see it moving in the socket…ugh god, yeah…alright…” Your tone doesn’t give Eddie any hope and when you scrunch your face up while the dentist office tells you something longwinded, he sighs.

“How much? Oh shi- yeah okay. Thank you though.” You hang up and shoot him a steady look. “Guess.”

“I’m gonna loose it?” Eddie says, bag of frozen green beans held against his cheek.

“No shit.” You set your phone down and make your way to him leaned back on the couch. “You could potentially keep it for a cool $600 though.” Your hand replaces his on the slowly thawing bag and the sharp intake of breath isn’t from the new pressure on his bruise.

“$600 for one tooth?”

“Mhm.”

“Fuck it, I’ll just pull it.” Eddie sighs at the ceiling and closes his eyes. He’d been fucking around, trying to swing his guitar around his shoulders during practice. Had actually managed a few turns but when you’d come to pick him up he wanted to show off. A fast toss over his shoulder and he didn’t see the corner of the body barreling for his cheek.

Your loud gasp and a lot of blood down his front later, he was in pain and slightly humiliated but definitely not out $600.

“Will you help me?” He gently rolls his head your direction, his cheek cradled between veggies and your palm.

“Of course.” You smile sadly at him. “It’s gonna hurt though.”

“Yeah but I like that.” He wiggles his eyebrows and you slap his chest, t-shirt still stained red.

“Come on, ladykiller.”

In the bathroom he braces his hands on the counter while you try to find the best angle to pull his tooth out at.

“I’m trying to not just have my whole fist in your mouth.”

“That’s hot.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Yes ma’am.” Eddie grins at your flat look. You blindly grab the pliers from behind you on the vanity and take a deep breath before holding his mouth open.

“Please don’t bite down.”

“Eye hot yuh yiked hat.” He’s drooling around your hand and trying to be cute. It’s unfortunately working on you.

“Not like this, no.”

He feels the pliers on his tooth, a gentle tug while you rearrange and then you look at him. Eyebrows scrunched and a concerned look in your eyes. “You okay?” He nods. “This is gonna hurt baby, I’m sorry.”

He barely has time to process what you’ve said. He was waiting for a count down but instead you’ve yanked once, swiftly and without remorse. There’s a small clatter where his tooth bounces around in the sink and then he feels the pulse of pain. A new rush of blood floods his mouth and he doubles over the sink to spit and moan.

“You didn’t even warn me!”

“You would have bitched out and you know it.” You rub his back while he pouts and keeps spitting into the sink. When you disappear to get him a glass of water, he rinses out the sink and picks up his tooth to inspect it. “What tooth is this anyways?”

“The tech said she thinks it’s a premolar from what I told her.” You answer as you come back into the cramped bathroom. He pulls his lip back to stare at the dark space between teeth.

“You don’t already know which one it is?”

You just roll your eyes. “She did say it was good that you didn’t crack it, could have been worse.” You shrug and Eddie holds out his hand to you, tooth sitting in the middle of his palm.

“It looks cool.” He says, rolling it around until you pick it up gingerly and inspect it. There’s a little bit of blood stuck in the root but you keep turning it over, running the pad of your finger over the ridges.

“You’re gonna keep it right?”

“Duh.” He laughs. You hand it back to him and help him clean up from his traumatic afternoon.

A couple of aspirin and a hot shower later and he’s ready for bed, just waiting on you to finish in the bathroom. He watches your shadow under the door where light seeps out and runs his tongue for the umpteenth time through the new space in his teeth. He’s not trying to make it worse but it’s a foreign void that he can’t stop fucking with. The bathroom door opens and you’re already staring at him, head cocked to the side. “I can see you tonguing that spot from over here.”

“You’ve got a spot I can tongue.”

You don’t respond, just turn off the lights on your way into the bedroom where you climb over him on the bed. Before you can drop onto your side he grabs your thighs to hold you above him.

“Thanks for not laughing at me.”

“You looked pretty cool, right up until you smashed your mouth.” You brace your hands on his chest and lean in close. “The blood really distracted me.”

“Yeah that was quite a bit.”

“Still hot.”

He grins and you can spot the missing tooth in the dark before he pulls you in by your chin to give you a kiss. When he opens his mouth to deepen it, your tongue immediately finds the new space like his had. He laughs into the kiss and sits up on his elbows to be closer. It’s a slow make out session that he has no intention of taking further, mostly delighting in you running your tongue along the inside of his mouth, probing.

“What are you laughing at?” You ask, annoyed at him huffing into your mouth.

“You keep trying to feel it with your tongue.” He grins at you in the dark, features highlighted by the light seeping in through the curtains.

“It’s a new spot in your mouth for me to tongue.” You mumble and Eddie says something about tonguing your new hole and it devolves into a slap fight that ends with you two sleepily kissing again.

For a few weeks his tooth kicks around the house in a little ring box you had laying around. Jokingly he stuffed a scrap of ribbon in it and called it a coffin, started giving a eulogy to it every night after dinner.

“Craig had the toughest job-“

“I thought he was Neville?”

“I changed it. Craig is a working man’s name.”

“In what country?”

“Coal country.” Eddie jokingly bangs his fist on the table and continues on about Craig and his 52 family members.

Wayne comes by for dinner and sees this little atrocity and just stares at it for a good while, you and Eddie tight lipped trying to not laugh at his blank expression.

“I don’t know what to expect when I come over here, ever.” He’s not judging, in fact he’s almost too accommodating when him and Eddie disappear after dinner for a smoke on the balcony and he gives his nephew pointers on what dremel bit to use so he doesn’t crack the tooth.

“A matching necklace? Christ Eddie don’t tell me you knocked out two teeth!”

“No! I bought the ring for her, this was just a mistake.” Eddie gestures at his mouth and Wayne chuckles at him.

“Always gotta show off.”

“For her? No shit. If I don’t, she’ll realize how much better she can do.”

Wayne tilts his head and fixes Eddie with a stern look. “You know how I feel about that.”

“I’m kidding.” He tries to wave him off.

“Well I’m not. Who else is gonna bring her home a tooth on a chain?” Eddie can see how that makes Wayne shudder, even when he’s trying to be forcefully reassuring. He pats his uncle on the knee before standing and stretching.

“True. There aren’t any many of my kind left.” He says it wistfully, staring off the balcony into the dark until Wayne huffs at him to get inside and help with the dishes.

The bit dies off and the ring box ends up on your nightstand. Eddie thinks it’s a pretty romantic gesture the way you’ve given it a prime spot next to your Dracula figure. He also knows you’ll notice it missing so he takes the tooth when he gets home before you and knocks the box over and when you notice he plays dumb.

“Oh no, did you knock it over?” “No I haven’t been in your nightstand.” “Why would I take it?”

He brings it with him to work and Wayne refuses to touch it, instead standing off to the side and letting Eddie drill the minuscule hole. He texts you on his lunch and tells you he’s got some extra stuff to take care of, running late, don’t worry about dinner. He uses the extra hour to run by the antique store and buy a chain and he gets so lucky because you’re in the shower when he finally comes home.

Ring box stolen from your drawer and left oh so carelessly in the middle of the counter next to your big water cup. He doesn’t even change out of his shop clothes, just sits and waits for you to come out.

When you do, you give him a kiss in passing and then stop short in the kitchen. “Eddie?”

“Hmm?”

“What’s this?” You hold up the small red box and gently shake it at him.

“I made you something in art class today.” He says bashfully and leans over the arm of the couch to dangle his arms while you laugh at him.

“Aw, did Mr. Munson help you with your finger painting?” You pout at him and he flips you off. Your laugh cuts off when you open the box to stare at the necklace.

“Is this your tooth?”

“Yeah, I lied.” He grins at you, “I staged the crime scene.”

“You scum.” Your giggle gets him off the couch, the scrunch of your face makes him cradle your jaw, your whispered ‘thank you’ earns you a kiss and before you can fumble with the chain he’s pulling it out of your hands to loop it around your neck. He does the clasp up and smooths a hand down over the tooth.

“Oh you make that look better than I ever did.” His dimples push through his warm smile. “Almost like it was made for you.”

“God you are laying it on thick today huh?”

“I mean it, everything I am is for you.” He holds you close while you fiddle with your new jewelry. It’s so small for such a significant thing, at least to you. Especially when he starts talking like that. Eddie notices your pensive turn and pulls his head back to look down at you.

“Did I…did I read this wrong? Is it too much?” He knows he’s bad at that sometimes. He knows you like this stuff but maybe wearing a familiar tooth is a step too far. Maybe it feels like a weight around your neck instead of a thin rope of silver. It’s his turn to get quiet and he tries to pull away but you latch on around his ribs.

“This is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever given me and it’s really weird and I love it a lot.” You mumble into his chest where your cheek is pressed tight. “Thank you.”

He watches you the rest of the night playing with it. Twirling your fingers through the chain and rolling the tooth around, staring down at it and once tapping it against your own teeth like you did with the ring. It gives him a new affection for you, to see you admire something he not only made you, but something that’s wholly him.

Later when he’s waiting for you in bed while you wander around and look for your phone, the intrusive thought he’d been keeping in finally breaks the surf of his mind.

“I’d knock out all my teeth for you.” He says it into the quiet and you pause at the foot of the bed to tilt your head at him.

“That’s so sweet.” You giggle quietly, the look you give him is contemplative.

“No I’m serious.” He leans up on his elbow to look you square in the eyes. “I’d hang ‘em all on a silver chain, drape them on you like pearls.” His stare gets a weight to it that makes you feel rooted to the spot. “I’d make you an altar out of them. Give them to you like little offerings.”

“You make it sound like I’m a deity you need to please.”

“Oh but you are.” He rolls up off his elbow to crawl towards the end of the bed and kneel in front of you. “Everything I do is in service to you and your good favor.” He splays a hand over his bare chest and you know he’s doing a thing but his wide eyed eagerness on his knees is doing it for you.

“And you’d hand over your teeth just for that?”

“I’d hand over my life.” He grabs your hand and presses it over his heart. “I’d leave imprints of my teeth all over you and then hand them over on a platter.”

“Why is this so hot?” You mutter at him, your body flush with heat suddenly.

“I know, keep playing along.” He whispers back, eyebrows twitching upwards. “I’m simply a vessel for your happiness and if that means sacrificing pieces of myself,” his hands settle up behind your neck to pull you down for a kiss, “then I’ll pull them all out by the root and leave them on the steps of your temple.” He keeps pulling you back until you have to catch yourself and climb over him, his lanky frame unfolding under you.

“Does that make you a patron or a priest?” You straddle his hips and break away from the kiss to stare at him, necklace dangling down against his cheek.

“I’m your most devoted follower.” He whispers in the small space between you two, eyes searching. “I’ve pledged my life to you.” His fingers dig in to your bare thighs. “Not for just a reward in the afterlife but in the hopes that you’ll grant me one look at your divine form.”

“Eddie!” You laugh at him and sit up, face and neck hot from his praise.

“What? I mean it! All of that for one…touch.” He slides his palms around to grab your ass and you laugh harder.

“That’s all you want? Just a touch?”

“Well maybe a long, continuous one.” He tries to slide his hands up further but you stop him at your hips. He looks determined to feel up your sides but your grip on his wrists holds tight.

“You wouldn’t want to anger your god now, would you?” His eyes widen at your sudden boldness. When you can tell he’ll sit still you unhand him to pull up the hem of your shirt slowly. “You give me a lifetime of servitude for a single touch?” Before you pull it over your head you give him a wicked a grin. “I’ll reward you with your single wish.”

He understands the game but his hands still twitch when you toss your shirt to the side, chest bared to him. You wiggle around until you get your underwear off, his hands still attached to you. He gets one touch and he won’t waste it, not now that you’re fully naked over him. You pull his boxers down, hands grazing sensitive skin and he pushes his head back into the pillow with a groan.

He clenches his jaw when you grind down on him, sliding over the head of his cock. His eyes rolling when you lean back and brace yourself on his thighs. You gasp with every roll of your hips and he whimpers.

“God damnit can I please touch you?” He grinds out through clenched teeth. The wet slide of your cunt has him breathing shallow and fast, the urge to buck up and fuck you settling low in the base of his spine. “C’mon, don’t I get some kind of fu-uck…” He stutters when your nails drag over his thighs. “You gotta show me some k-kind of mercy.”

“I’m already wearing a piece of you Eddie.”

His chest rises and falls, nostrils flared while he breaths heavy against his own willpower. The tattoos on his arms jump when he digs his fingers into your hips harder, an anchor he has to keep in place until you tell him he can move. “Why don’t you show me just how devoted you are?”

His first instinct, his first want, is to push you back and hold you down and make you sob about it. He’d like to hitch your legs up over his hips and make you remember the feeling of him deep inside for a few days.

But that’s not how you treat a goddess.

He slides his hands up your back with care when he sits up, his lips pressing softly into the space between your breast. He kisses up and over the necklace, warmed by your skin under it. Kisses up your neck until he has to pull your head down to meet his lips again. His fingers don’t grasp like they did a moment ago. They dance light over your skin, along the edge of your hair. They trace up under your jaw and over your cheeks, down your nose. He follows their path with his mouth, gentle kisses following gentle touch.

Your hips don’t move as rapid as they were and he uses it to his advantage. He presses up until he hears that gasp when he breaches you, soft heat clenching around his cock almost enough to set him off. He basks in the moment too long and you try to move your hips down against his but he makes a sound of protest, something in the back of his throat like a whine. “Give me a second, I’m having a moment with divinity.”

Your laugh travels through you, vibrations under his palms when you test his resolve again. Another gentle roll and he lays his face into the crook of your neck to mouth at you. Tongue running flat up the tendon on display when your head tips back and he finally buries himself fully. Your fingers wind in his hair while he snakes a hand between you, thumb finding your clit and you both groan when your movements speed up. He’s already too close, got himself all wound up in the role play but he needs you to finish first to put a nice bow on this evening.

“Y’really like it?” He pants against you.

“Of c-course I do.”

“Y’gonna wear it every day?” You nod and whine when he puts more pressure on his thumb. “Let everyone know what kind of freak you are.” You keep nodding and grinding down on him and that line of heat licks up his spine fast. “Gonna show everyone aren’t you?” He can feel your thighs trembling around his hips, knees digging in on every downward movement. “C’mon baby, wanna see it.” It takes him a lot of effort to pull his head up to watch you. Your chin tilted up, mouth hung open and panting, all for him. He can feel the tension building in you and can see the crease between your brows. The low whine that crawls out of your throat and goes on and on when he finally hits your peak.

He huffs, almost laughing at the way you break, amazed as always at the way you react to him. You sit flush against him and grind and pull his hair and his eyes roll back in his head, a line of curses spilling out of his lips that you catch with your own. He comes fast and hot, the edges of his vision going spotty while you keep his head steady and swallow all his grunts. In his foggy thoughts he can feel you run your tongue over the new space in his mouth, the feeling just foreign enough that it makes him shiver before he laughs again at your interest.

It takes a moment for you both to come down, you slouching into Eddie and making him fall back against the pillows, still out of breath.

“So I take it I’ve won your favor.” He grins up at the ceiling, running his hand over your back.

“You keep calling me a god, you can have whatever you want.” You roll on your side and nuzzle up under his outstretched arm.

“Don’t teeth have something to do with prosperity?” He snaps his fingers behind your head. “With all these new adornments, we’re gonna be swimmin’ in it baby.”

“Oh so that’s why you worship me, for my money!” You poke his side hard enough he flinches and curls around you suddenly, locking you into a hug and pinning you down on the bed. His lips brush your ear when he speaks lowly to you. “I worship you because you deserve it, the prosperity is a perk.” He keeps you close for a while until you both get too hot, sticky skin separating under cool sheets. He still has to touch you though and his foot finds yours while he reaches over to play with your necklace.

“I’m glad you’re cool with this.”

“I’m glad you’re cool with this.” You laugh. “We could have been having a much different evening otherwise.”

(Sacrifice for the read more)

[radioactivedotcom]

🔮 fantasy set 🔮 [conversions] - SIMBLREEN 2023 TREAT 02

i mean… it is simblreen. had to make at least one fantasy-inspired set, right?? pairs well with any of my other fantasy sets from past years, here, here & here.

some items are over 10k polygons, so please make sure to check under the cut before putting in your mods folder.

and small reminder that you can mess with the item sizes in game by using the [ ] keys :)

– 30 packages –

all lods

bgc

find them by typing [RDC] or Fantasy Set in the search bar

credits for 3D models&textures can be found in the description boxes

recolors are very welcome!! (and yes you can include the mesh, in builds as well, as long as there’s NO PAYWALL)

– through here for all my s4 downloads –

tag me if you use!

download: sfs - mediafire (unzip and drop in your mods folder)

––– links not working? try right-clicking and opening in a new tab!

~ have fun ~

{•̴͈ ˔̇ •̴͈}

polygon count and other info under the cut!

Arcane Spellbook: 2k - clutter decoration

Bookwheel: 15k - bookshelf (not functional)

Caged Creature: 5k - ceiling decoration

Carriage: 32k - misc decoration

Chest 01: 18k - misc decoration

Chest 02: 18k - misc decoration

Chest 03: 12k - clutter decoration

Chest 04: 16k - misc decoration

Chest 05: 7k - misc decoration

Chest 06: 20k - misc decoration

Cultist Set: 7k - clutter decoration

Evil Stone: >1k - clutter decoration

Frozen Tear Lotus Pedestal: 9k - clutter decoration

Ice Potion: 3k - clutter decoration

Ivy Potion: 5k - clutter decoration

Love Potion: 12k - clutter decoration

Magical Earth Book: 1.5k - clutter decoration

Magical Steampunk Book: 5k - clutter decoration

Mermaid Potion: 6k - clutter decoration

Monster Plant: 6k - plant decoration

Moon Statue: 3k - clutter decoration

Necromancer Potion: 7k - clutter decoration

Necronomicon Spellbook: 3k - clutter decoration

Old Clock: 5k - sculpture decoration

Old Wall Clock: 5k - wall sculpture decoration

Spellbound Mailbox: 4k - misc decoration

Staff of Sleep: 3k - sculpture decoration

Staff of the Spore-Lord: 4k - misc decoration

Vegetal Nautilus: 5k - plant decoration

Voodoo Doll: >1k - clutter decoration

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Imagine Bucky turned into the Winter soldier, after you read the words and he heard them. Even when it's an accident and then he comes to you and bands you over the table or something.😩🥵

The Winter Soldier bending me over and fucking me? YES PLEASE!😩🥵

The Winter Soldier Comes Out To Play » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Winter Soldier x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky’s girlfriend (the reader) accidentally reads the trigger words out loud without realizing that it turns Bucky into the Winter Soldier and he decides to have some fun with her.

Warnings: Smut (18+), language, dirty talk, kissing, hickeys, unprotected sex, praise kink, hair pulling, choking, spanking, degrading, name calling (slut, whore), pet names (doll, кукла [doll in Russian])

I used google translate for the Russian translation of doll.

Written on my phone so sorry if there’s any mistakes or typos.

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators. I found this gif on Pinterest.

DIVIDER IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to @silkholland

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞

You were cleaning up and putting stuff away around yours and Bucky’s apartment. At the moment, you were rearranging stuff in the closet in yours and his bedroom. You bumped into a box and a red book with a star on it fell out of it. You picked it up and opened it. You’ve never seen this book before. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion when you came across a page with words that were in Russian, but had English next to them.

“Longing, Rusted, Seventeen, Daybreak, Furnace, Nine, Benign, Homecoming, One, Freight Car.” You read out loud to yourself.

You weren’t sure what the words meant so you just went through the rest of the book. You were looking down at the book as you were walking out of the closet and bumped into something. You looked up and seen Bucky.

“Oh hey, Bucky. I didn’t know you were home.” You say.

“Where’d you find that?” Bucky asks, referring to the red book in your hand.

“It fell out of a box in the closet when I was cleaning and I started reading it.” You say.

Bucky snatched the book out of your hand making you flinch a little. You’ve never seen Bucky act this way.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Bucky? I was just reading it.” You say.

“Why do you keep calling me Bucky?” He asks.

“That’s your name.” You say, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t know who the hell Bucky is.” He says.

“What do you mean you don’t know who-” A gasp left your lips and your eyes widened. “Oh my god.” You say quietly.

“Those words I read in that book must be the words that turn Bucky into the Winter Soldier.” You thought to yourself. Bucky has told you about how he used to be the Winter Soldier and the things he did as him, but you’ve never seen him as the Winter Soldier. You stood frozen in your spot, scared to move a muscle.

“Why are you quiet all of the sudden, кукла?” The Winter Soldier asks, walking around you.

You whimpered in fear. You didn’t know if you should talk or not. All of a sudden, he wrapped his metal hand around your throat and roughly pinned you against the wall behind you, a yelp left your lips as you put your smaller hand over his metal wrist.

“I asked you a question. It would be smart of you to respond.” He says, applying pressure to your throat.

“I-I’m sorry! I-I didn’t mean t-to read th-the book!” You apologized, stuttering in fear.

The Soldier laughed at your fear.

“That’s right. You shouldn’t be snooping in things that aren’t yours.” He says, tightening his grip on your throat again.

His face got closer to yours. Your breathing got heavy and you squeezed your eyes shut.

“I don’t know who the hell this Bucky guy is, but his girlfriend is hot as hell.” He says.

You slowly opened your eyes to see him licking his lips as his eyes scanned your body from head to toe.

“A-Are you going t-to kill me?” You asked.

“No. I have other plans for you.” He smirks.

The Soldier let go of your throat, letting you breathe. He then grabbed your upper arm tightly and led you out of the bedroom to the table in the dining room. Your heart was beating so fast that it felt like it was going to burst through your chest. You didn’t know whether to be scared or turned on. He roughly bent you over the table. He yanked your shorts and panties down your legs in one go.

“For someone who’s scared of me, you’re wet like a slut.” He says, rubbing a metal finger between your wet folds.

A moan fell from your lips. You heard a clink of his belt hitting the floor. You looked over your shoulder to see him pulling down his pants and boxers. His cock was hard and leaking with precum from the tip.

“I’m sure Bucky won’t mind me borrowing his girl for a while.” He says, pumping his cock in his right hand.

The Soldier wrapped your hair in his metal hand and pushed your head against the table. He rubbed his tip through your folds, bumping your clit and teasing your entrance making you whine. You yelped when you felt a harsh smack on your ass.

“Quit your fucking whining.” He says.

He slid his whole cock inside of you, not giving you time to adjust to his size. His thrusts were fast and brutal. He was relentless. Your hands scrambled to grab the edge of the table.

“Fuck, you’re tight.” The Soldier groans.

His metal hand let go of your hair to hold on to your hips with his right hand with a bruising grip. Moans and screams left your lips as he fucked you hard.

“S-Soldier!” You moaned.

“What is it, кукла?” The Soldier asks.

“More!” You moaned.

“You want more? Well here you go.” He says.

His right hand grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked you up so your back was against his body.

“You’re my whore now, кукла.” He whispers in your ear.

Him calling you his whore made your cunt clench around his cock.

“You like that? You want to be my whore?” He asks.

“Yes! Please fuck! Make me your whore!” You moaned.

His hand left your hair. He gripped your tank top and ripped it off, throwing it on the floor. Both of his hands were placed on your breasts.

“Look at these gorgeous tits.” He bites his bottom lip.

His fingers pinched and tugged at your nipples making a tingling sensation shoot through your body. Your eyes fluttered shut and your head fell back against his right shoulder. He took the opportunity to kiss and suck hickeys on your neck, marking you as his. His right hand snaked down your body, stopping on your clit and began rubbing it in fast circles.

“Oh my god! Fuck yes!” You moaned loudly.

“Feels good, doesn’t it, кукла?” He whispers in your ear.

“Mmm, yes! Don’t stop!” You moaned.

You reached your hands up, blindly feeling your way to his hair. He stopped rubbing your clit to grab your arms, pinning them behind your back and bend you over the table.

“No touching.” He growled.

You yelped when you felt a harsh smack on your ass. His metal hand reached around to your front to rub your clit. You jolted at the cool sensation of his metal fingers against your clit. You’re cunt clenched around his cock at the feeling.

“Fuck! You’re gonna make me cum if you keep doing that.” He moans.

His metal fingers continued to rub your clit. You felt your lower stomach tighten. Your orgasm coming closer and closer.

“I- oh fuck! I’m gonna cum!” You moaned.

“Beg me to let you cum.” He says, quickening the rubbing on your clit which is now sensitive.

“Soldier, please I- fuck! Let me cum please!” You begged desperately.

“Such a desperate little slut. Go ahead. Cum for me, кукла.” He says.

Your eyes fluttered shut. Your jaw dropped, his name left your lips that was followed by a loud moan. You came harder than ever before. You were laying against the table, a moaning mess with tears of pleasure streaming down your face.

“That’s a good girl.” He praises. “Gonna cum inside of this pretty cunt.” The Soldier moans, tilting his head back.

“Fuck yes! Fill me up, Soldier!” You moaned.

“I love it when you beg me.” He says with a groan.

Your name left his lips as he came inside of you, painting your walls. His thrusts came to a slow stop. He let go of your arms and slowly pulled out of you. You whined at the loss of contact of his cock.

Bucky slowly went back to his normal self. He blinked a couple times, squeezing his eyes shut for a second. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion when he seen your clothes, along with his on the floor. He seen you bent over the table with his cum dripping out of your cunt and bruises in the shape of hand marks on your hips.

“Oh god, doll. I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t-” You interrupted him by putting your finger on his lips to silence him.

“You have absolutely nothing to apologize for, Bucky.” You say.

“But he- I-” You interrupted him again.

“It’s fine, babe.” You smiled softly. “If I’m being honest, I enjoyed every single second of it.” You say biting your bottom lip.

“Y-You enjoyed it.” Bucky asks.

You nodded your head yes while biting your bottom lip.

“So you’re fine?” He asks to be sure.

“I’m completely fine.” You say.

Bucky cupped your cheeks and kissed you sweetly.

“I love you so much, doll.” Bucky says against your lips.

“I love you so much too, Buck.” You smiled, kissing him again.

-Bucky’s Doll

[soaked4mk]

It’s still me // Love sick! (Mk1) Johnny Cage x Reader

⚠️: Slight Violence/blood, Possessiveness?, Manipulation, Dub Con finger fucking, Man-handling.

👽: this has been in my drafts for a minute. Sorry I haven’t been writing a lot lately. Im finally done moving into my new HOMEE so I’m hopefully going to try to get more requests done// (not proof read)

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

★ “Johnny! Oh my god— what the fuck did you do!?” You don’t even know how you ended up in this position, you were just trying to surprise your boyfriend with a new piece of jewelry. Dropping the small gift box, Looking down at the ground, trembling at the sight of your boyfriend who held this man by his hair, motionless on the floor. Blood leaking from his head and into the pool. You wretch at the sight, and turn away, holding your hand up to your mouth in attempt to keep the vomit that threatened to escape your body. “No!— no! You weren’t supposed to see this honey…”

★ Johnny immediately drops the man’s head, a thud followed as he did so. “Wait—wait, WAIT!” His strong hand grips your shoulder, forcing you to face the towering man before you. Eyes dilated, pin pointing his gaze through your own. “Baby, let me explain !” His voice trembled a bit, the adrenaline still pumping through his veins. “God fucking DAMN IT!” Cursing, running his bloodied fingers through his hair, he huffs.

★ Shaking your head, and taking a step back, you cause the man to frown. “J-Johnny…” you shakily choke out, completely shocked at the scene playing out in front of you. If you hadn’t just seen it with your own eyes, you wouldn’t have believed it. “Baby, he was an obstacle, I had to get that bastard taken care of.” he steps closer, backing you into a wall. “Please, understand, doll.” his voice cracked.

★ “Understand what!? Jesus, Johnny… you’ve killed a man!” “I’ve killed men.” He corrected, taking another step, causing your back to finally touch the wall. your blood ran cold as he approached you. “I’ve killed men for you.” He grabs both of your shoulders, pining you against the wall, lightly tracing his thumbs along your collarbones. Your eyes dart to the dead man behind him, before glancing towards the door. He sees your distracted face and tightens his grip.

★“I did this for you— everything I’ve ever done has been for you, Y/N… how the fuck do you not see that.” He looks back at the dead man, who was bleeding out into his pool. Face most likely unrecognizable, from having his head repeatedly bashed into the marble floor. “I mean…” He chuckled, half-shrugging before looking back at you “who else would do this for you?” You’re speechless, heart buzzing in your ears, your internal monologue was screaming at you to escape, run, to get the fuck out of here.

★ But you were frozen with fear. Feet rooted in place. After just witnessing what this man was capable of, you knew that there was no way in Hell you’d have a fair chance. Your throat went dry, and tears stung your eyes as you went mute. A chuckle rumbles through his chest again, snapping his fingers in your face. “I asked you a fucking question.”

★ Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t get a word out. Your chest was tight and you were visibly shaken, a tear rolled down your cheek. For some odd reason this made Johnny quickly switch his tone “Right, right…” Johnny took a deep breath, before releasing you. Rubbing his temples, staring at you and contemplating god knows what. He paces around for a moment as you stay in place, watching his sanity crack little by little. “Baby, I’m sorry, please—“ he laughed lightly “come on, you know me, you know I would never hurt you right…?” He asked, bringing his hand up to caress your face.

★ Flinching in return, Johnny winces at the sight, retracting his hand. You didn’t know. For the first time ever, you felt unsafe with your boyfriend. Saying nothing, your thoughts flooded your head, overlapping with questions and aching for answers.

★ The Johnny you knew was witty, funny, corny and sweet. The Johnny you knew could fight, sure…but kill? What were the signs…were there any? If so, when? Could you have prevented this? Or was he always the man standing before you, finally mask off. This thought process was cut short as Johnny sighed inwardly.

★ “Do you still love me…?” He asked genuinely, holding both of your hands in his. This caused your heart to drop. Did you..? How could you? He killed a man in cold blood. As much as you wanted to scream at him ‘no! I could never love a murderer!’ Your mouth wouldn’t let you. Your body rejected the thought of falling out of love with Johnny. So you stand there, eyes glancing at the body behind him before darting back to his gaze. Swallowing hard, you reply.

★ “I…I don’t even know who you are anymore…” Johnny frowned at your answer, leaning in, he started to gently kiss your neck. “It’s still me, sweetheart…” he cooed, nuzzling into the crook. Causing a shiver to run down your spine. “You know I only did it to protect you, right baby?” He continued, as he began to leave small marks on your neck. You let out a small whimper, internally cursing your bodies reaction to his touch.

★ “N-no...” you weakly attempt to push him away. Causing him to panic slightly. “Baby, please— before he could finish, you booked it. Johnny saw this, and grabbed your wrist with little to no effort, harshly throwing you to the ground. “You knew that wouldn’t work…” he scolded softly, walking passed you, lifting the feet up of the dead man. Dragging him further from the pool. “This guy,” Johnny suddenly switched conversation “you know, he had the fucking gaul to snap those pictures when you had that wardrobe malfunction?”

★ He asked, dropping the man’s feet carelessly. It was scary how quick he could switch from sweet to hostile—so casually…“And then he went on to send them to TMZ! out of all the fucking shit talkers.” He shook his head in disgust, kicking the dead body before approaching you again.

★ He helped you up, yanking you off of the ground by your arm. “Kitty, you weren’t even supposed to be here until,” he checked his watch. “Thirty minutes from now…” he looked at you with question. “I…I just wanted to surprise you.” You dryly replied, averting your gaze from his, your eyes land on the gift box on the floor.

★ Johnny smiles, his eyes softening at your answer. “Oh, sweetheart…” he shook his head a bit. “This is why I love you. You’re so thoughtful…” Johnny looked over his shoulder, peeking at the body “So good…” turning his gaze back to you, he guided you to the couch.

★ “Stay.” He simply commanded , as he went to continue dragging the body out of sight. You heard an audible thud before Johnny came back into the living room, scoffing at the sight of his bloodied pool. “I’m gonna need to completely drain and bleach this fucking thing…” Shaking his head, he walked back towards the couch, tucking a strand of hair out of your face.

★ Giving you the time to notice his bloodied and bruised knuckles. A part of you wanted to mend his wounds—contrast to your shocked state. But another part of you felt that as enabling the psychotic behavior. “You never answered me.” He snapped you back into reality, looming over you, as you’re back pressed into the soft couch cushion. “I-w-wha—

★ “Do you still love me, Y/N.” He gripped your cheeks with one hand, forcing you to look at him, making you yelp. “Y-yes!” You cry out, ripping your chin from his grip, you look away, and begin to sob. Letting the reality of the situation finally sink in. Before you could fully grasp your position however, Johnny smashed his lips against your own.

★ You melt into his touch, as it still feels familiar…warm and welcoming. Your common sense is thrown out the window as he holds the back of your neck, deepening the kiss, you run your fingers through his hair, tears spilling from your eyes, out of shame or maybe even guilt. Either way, your mind was convoluted.

★ Johnny smiled into the kiss, seeing you fight the devil and angel that were perked up on your shoulders. He knew he was mind fucking you, but he didn’t care, just as long as you stayed with him. “I’m the only person in this world, that knows your body better than you do.” he purred into your ear, laying you down onto the couch. “I’m the only one that can make you laugh…” he continued “who can get you so mad, you cry. Only I can make you scream…make you cum.”

★ Your heart is racing as you feel the hairs on your skin raise. A twinge of arousal shoots through your body, His breath was hot against your ear and he shifted more of his weight onto you. slotting a leg between your thighs, he felt the heat radiating from between them.

★ “You’re soaked…” he teased, condescendingly. “Only for me, huh?” He finished his point from earlier, aggressively pulling at your bottoms, before slipping his hand in, he began to play with your clit. Causing you to arch your back, and let out a moan.

★ “Johnny— stop!” You whimper, face flushed as your body reacts to his touch. “Stop? Stop what? This?” He asked knowingly, before burying his middle finger into you, feeling the cold silver of his ring on your heated skin, goosebumps begin to rise. His motion begins to quicken, in a matter of no time he inserts a second finger. Probing your cunt vigorously with a shit eating smirk. “That’s right~” he hums, attacking your neck with rough kisses and love bites. fucking you onto his digits, curling them just right as his thumb encircles your clit.

★ “Aha-f—fuck!” You moan out, throwing your head back as he continues his relentless assault on your soaked core. A guilty pleasure seeps into your body, relishing in the sick fact your lover would go to such extreme lengths for you…

★ Your brain was polluted with sweetened words. And his reasoning behind this whole incident suddenly seemed valid. “I love you.” Johnny says, his voice gruff. “Say it back.” He ordered, picking up the pace of his fingers. “I-I love you~” you whine out, feeling that familiar build up inside.

★ Your body trembles as you let out an exasperated breath. Johnny entrapped your mouth into another fiery kiss, repeating how much he loves you, thanking you for being so understanding about the ‘little bump in the road’. Your mind is blank as your hips buck, grinding against his ministrations, you let out small moans and whimpers. Feeling your self edging closer and closer.

★ He felt your walls tighten around his fingers, egging you on to cum. “come on, cum for me, cum for me baby~” With his encouragement, you were quick to release on his hand. Soaking it in the process. Your chest was heaving as you tried to catch your breath. Blinded by the high of your orgasm. Johnny trailed light kisses on your neck, infatuated with your flushed expression.

★ “Don’t even worry about this… I’ll have it taken care of, and everything’s gonna be just fine.” He tried to convince you through his loving kisses. Causing your breath to hitch in your throat, contemplating his words, you stifled a whimper as he nipped a sweet spot on your neck.

★“Please baby, please. Just trust me, I promise you’ll never see anything like it again…” Johnny whispers sweet nothings into your ear, keeping his fingers inside of you, harshly pumping them, unrelenting and overstimulating you. He wasn’t satisfied- not until you gave in completely.

★ “Fuck—okay—okay!” you blurt out, cunt feeling numb, begging him to please stop. “I-I trust you…just—please—“ He pulls his fingers from your dripping pussy, nerves buzzing through your entire body from the assertiveness of his actions. the corners of his mouth curl up into that familiar grin. Bringing his coated digits to his mouth, licking them clean, humming and savoring your taste. “Good girl.”

★ “Now how about you get your pretty little ass in the shower? I’ll get this all cleaned up, alright?” He asks, brushing your hair from your face, pressing his lips to your forehead before standing up from the couch. You simply nod before getting off of the couch yourself. Feeling a playful swat on your ass as you make your way to the shower. Thought process and morals tainted by lust.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

[takami-takami]

Accidents.

includes— hawks x reader. minors dni. suggestive.

warnings— daddy kink. predator/prey undertones. keigo being a meanie.

You wish the ground would just swallow you whole before his smug look does.

"Don't let it get to your head! Keigo—" You squeak, covering your own face with one hand and pushing his away with the other. Your palm does nothing to quell the mischievous laughing fit that your boyfriend doesn't seem to have the courtesy nor self control to keep to himself.

Don't let it get to his head? His head couldn't be any bigger in this moment.

He seizes the opening to situate himself on top of you with ease, keeping you caged beneath him so he can bear witness to the full extent of your misery. Your hands lie helpless, locked under his hold and pinned above your head to leave you wide open. He wants nothing obstructing his view of your dreadfully desperate squirms.

He considers locking your legs in place beneath his, too. It wouldn't be difficult at all to overpower you, but the butterfly kicks behind his back that ruffle the sheets beneath are just too delicious to watch.

Your bedroom has become a locked box of your whimpers and flails, and he loves it. What he wouldn't give to cage you here and throw away the key.

"Keigo...? Sorry, dunno who that is." His eyes roll in time with his shoulders, while that wicked grin never falters.

"Could've sworn you were just calling me something else," he sings above you. He purses his lips like he just can't catch his thought. Bastard. You'd be screaming into your hands if you had access to them. "What was it you said... What was it..." he hums a devilish, giddy tune, turning to catch your eye.

"Care to remind me?"

"You're an asshole!"

"No, that's not quite what you called me."

You huff in response, opting to stare at the ceiling behind him. Anywhere but that stupid, god-awful, pretty face of his. Maybe if you try to pull your wrists free, he'd take pity on you and— nope, still not giving an inch of leeway.

He notices your weak attempt. Poor thing, he thinks. You don't actually think there's anywhere to run, do you? Your halfhearted flailing underneath him is cute though, he'll give you that. So cute. Almost as cute as your little slip-up that got you into this fucking mess.

This is your mess, you know. You did start it, after all, and who is Keigo if not a man who finishes the job? It'd be criminal to not keep this game going for as long as it'll take to satisfy his instinct to torment you.

He's not a sadist, he swears.

He just knows prey when he sees it.

"Kei', I didn't— can you please just let this go?" You finally look at him with those puppy dog eyes. In another circumstance, they would get him to do whatever you want; but for once, he decides to be selfish. He's just having too much fun.

"Why should I? Don't tell me you're embarassed," he posits, as if you aren't the picture of shame incarnate beneath him. "Nothin' to be embarassed about, doll." He closes the gap between you, nose barely brushing the line of your jaw before he dares to have a taste. "Plenty of people would jump at the oppurtunity to call me da—"

"Hawks!"

"Oooh, yet another name and you still won't repeat the one from earlier. Gonna hurt my feelings, baby." Raptor eyes zero in on the juncture of your neck. When you strain to turn your head away from him, you leave your jugular completely exposed. He sighs. You're fucking helpless. He supposes that's why he's the pro hero, and you're just the little hare captured betwixt his talons. 

With a finality settling in his gut, he latches on and sinks his canines into you. You go limp below with the hitch of a breath, kicks slowing to a halt.

"You know, I think I like this." When his hands release yours, he's sure your muscles won't even twitch. Frozen under his spell, you are the moth to his proverbial flame; the rabbit in his headlights.

"I think that name is already one of my favorites. You'll say it again for me, won't you? Tell me..."

"Who's your fucking daddy?"

[lxdymoon0357]

How about making Duna jealous by having Minho in the palm of your hands?! I mean like, reader definitely loves him, but she absolutely despises Minho cause she had already done some damage and so she likes to spoil him, flaunts that she has him, etc to both Duna and Wookyung? She's also rich and what not..

(You spoke literally my heart's desires and put them in a post!! Reader is described to have tattoos| Fem! Reader, reader is mentioned to have long hair| Mentions of SA, unhinge shit from Duna.)

© Writing belongs to me, Lxdymoon0357. Do not plagiarize, but reblogging, liking and commenting is deeply appreciated.

The other...better spouse..

The moment Duna walked out of the shop, clutching a box of cigarettes, her eyes were burning to cry because it was the most sick and twisted dream because why was she seeing Minho standing outside a alcohol shop having a little person cling to him inside his black puffer jacket as he laughed softly?

She never knew he could laugh so beautifully, that he had creases under his eyes when he laughed or smiled, that he is very ticklish.. She noticed your long hair falling out of his puffer jacket as he laughed softly, before you finally came out of his jacket, enjoying yourself as you both talked and crossed the streets heading in her direction...

Duna never knew that The Byun Minho was capable of change...I mean, she honestly always wanted to put him in his place during sex, break him down, make him bed for her forgiveness, make him her own personal rape doll...She was confused as to how Minho could get anyone with his bitter, distasteful and gross personality and not even being big enough to pleasure someone...

Duna stood there frozen as you and Minho crossed, hand laced together, with him giggling at something you said while you couldn't bother to remove your eyes from him...How could you? He was just such a gorgeous human inside that hard exterior.

Just as you both got on the pavement, Minho froze as you finally turned away to meet the eyes of a girl, quite pretty but you weren't getting good vibes from her, You tightened your grip on Minho's hand ever so slightly,

"Who are you?" Duna asked you, quite audacious you guessed from her mannerisms, as you glared at her up and down before softly poking Minho's cheek and clinging to his arm more making Minho snap out of his trance as he awkwardly looked at you and Duna before shaking his head and saying,

"Ah, Uhm...Y/N..Jagi, this is Duna...My ex.." he said murmuring as you nodded in realization, so she was the one who cheated on him and the one who raped him...You glared at her angrily, before sighing, squeezing Minho's hands in yours softly before letting go and pushing the door of the shop Duna just came out of,

"I'll go get the things we need." you said going inside the shop as Duna stared at you with jealousy and anger, you were gorgeous, she couldn't lie, long hair, gorgeous fashion, you seemed smart, with the etiquette and the style of you clothing, it was also safe to assume you were also quite rich..

Minho sighed as he stood aside, wondering who'd make the first move as Duna walked closer, "Minho...Why'd you choose her?" she asked straight forward glaring at him, making chills go down his spine as he rubbed his nape and took a step back, "I..Uh.." he took a step back every time she took a step forward.

Duna softly took a hold of his wrist in hers, pulling him uncomfortably close to her, pushing him against the wall of a closed shop besides the one which was open where you were inside.

"You know I'm better than her, right? What is it about her that's better? Is she pretty? Rich? None of it, you know I tried to help you, I was just a bit mad back then..." Duna said, her words spilling out without her noticing as Minho seemed frozen, taking deep breathes as he shrunk into himself. The sight made her feel powerful.

but suddenly a sharp jerk pulled her back from her hair as she was thrown onto the ground as she looked up to meet your glaring eyes as tow large broad men stood besides you also staring at her seriously as you helped Minho while the other the two men glared at her,

"Please, do not dare to hurt Sir.Byun, otherwise we'd be contacting authorities." one of the man said as she could see you pepper Minho with kisses who was clinging to you like a little child.

Softly you rubbed his back, snapping your fingers and handing your bag of wines and another plastic bag of different things to a bodyguards while a expensive car pulled up close to you as Duan dusted herself and quickly got up with embarrassment.

You were simply trying to calm Minho and sat him down in the expensive sports car before turning to Duna and walking closer, your heels clacking on the side of the pavement as she took steps back before she was backed into the wall where she was pinning Minho a few seconds ago,

"Listen, bitch. If I see you getting even a hundred miles closer to Minho, I'd take a thousand amount of evidence that you sexually assaulted him and get you a good life sentence." you said grabbing her jaw and grinning at her with mock and disgust, tightening your grip on her jaw making it ache,

"You're lucky it's Minho's kindness of not wanting to ruin your already no-good, pathetic, little life by not reporting you, but I won't be kind...Tell that to the little freak Cha Wookyung as well." you said letting go of her jaw as she rubbed it before throwing the cigarette box she dropped in her face and turning on your heel and sitting in the car.

As you sat inside the car and it drove off, Duna could just stand there staring down at the box off cigarette you threw in her face, realizing maybe you were the better one out of both of you...

[aikuse]

CRAWL HOME TO HER | 2,724 words (~21 minutes reading time). gn!reader, major character death, descriptions of universe-accurate deaths, accidental necromancy.

author’s notes: did not think i’d run into a kinktober piece given how i’m still getting my groove back, but there was one tumblr post i saw that just punted me into next week. so…here we are! enjoy. i haven’t written for this guy in a little while…i missed him <3 i'm taking a bit of a different vibe here with doing parts of a topic instead of one-shots! therefore, this will have a second part i'll release at some point this month. enjoy! -> taglist: @qichun @fuyuswifey @suyacho @stunies -> join the taglist!

it’s quiet. too quiet.

the fog that drifts over the city is thick, light rain speckling against the gravestones as you meander through the rows. some of the stones are barely readable, long forgotten from families who have since moved on. some are fresher, emblazoned with golden lettering, untouched by the weather. despite the rain, incense smoke hangs in the air, pungent scents of patchouli and dragon’s blood sharp in the lazy breeze.

your destination looms in front of you, the stench of freshly moved soil clinging to your nose as you settle down, your backpack landing lightly on the floor next to you. you pull out a packaged bento box, leaving it in your lap before lighting your own incense sticks. one is placed in front of an older gravestone, the next on the much newer stone beside it. the ground beneath the second stone is churned; there’s an incredibly faint stench of death from it, but you chalk it up to the bleary weather.

there are no words to share between you and the dead, but you begin to talk anyway.

“there was no funeral, you know.”

you stare at the name that’s emblazoned on the newer stone. the name HANMA SHUJI glares back at you. you continue.

“i knew you were involved in some shady shit, shuji, but…my god,” you say, sounding like a chiding mother as you shake your head, “i didn’t realize you were that stupid. getting yourself wrapped up with a crime syndicate? really?”

the words that leave your mouth are forcing a reaction from your chest. it’s tightening up, and angry tears prick at your eyes as you’re shot back into the past, only for a moment. you can feel the spring breeze drifting through your hair, a whisper of the sunshine tickling your face. you turn towards the main path, chopsticks frozen in your hand, as you watch two ghosts sprint through the yard.

one is tall, far too tall and gangly to be anyone else but shuji. he holds onto a much younger version of you’s hand, sly smile plastered across his face as he stumbles after you. your hand is tight around his own, fingers interlocking as you match his smile. your voice echoes across time; if you hadn’t been paying attention, you’d have missed it.

come on! we’re already late, and you know i hate taking this shortcut. it’s creepy!

shuji’s laugh sounds like a wind chime.

c’mon, doll, it ain’t that bad. you got me here, anyway. i’ll protect ya from the scary ghosts.

the spirits dissipate into the fog, gone as quickly as they came. like a dream.

you turn back to the stones. KISAKI TETTA stares back at you from the older stone, and you sigh, swallowing heavily. “and you,” you say, your voice shaking as you point your chopsticks at the offending name, “you knew better. you should have known better than all of us. you were smarter than all of us, and you went and got yourself flattened by a fucking supply truck. ridiculous.”

there’s wetness on your cheeks now, rage making the bento box in your lap unappetizing. you place it on the ground, crossing your arms over your chest. your jaw sets as you return your gaze to Shuji. your voice is so small for the anger that’s tearing through your muscles.

“you promised me you’d protect me. you promised.”

that’s the straw that breaks you. that stupid little comment he’d made so long ago, so long before you’d all gotten wrapped up in the horrors of what Kisaki’s plans had brought you all. you’d gotten out of it somehow, escaping his slimy clutches, but Shuji was not so lucky. he was too entranced, too addicted to the chase. it would’ve ended badly no matter what, for him.

the tears falling from your face drip into the soil as you bend over, your stomach twisting inside of your body. they mix in with the drizzle, soaking down into the dirt. you think nothing of it; why would you?

it’s just rain. it’s just tears. tears that have built up over years of frustration, of a reaction to a phone call you’d never have imagined you’d receive.

you can’t stay here. if you do you’re going to end up ripping both of their stones out and throwing them into the street. the bento box, uneaten, disappears into your bag, along with everything else. all that’s left behind of an indication that you visited is the incense burning in front of both stones.

as you go to open the gate, you could’ve sworn you heard something move. it sounded like digging, a scrabbling noise similar to a sound a rat makes as it crawls up a pipe. you turn around; but nothing is out of the ordinary behind you. all the stones are still where they should be, the dirt untouched.

“fucking ghosts.”

still…you can’t get rid of the feeling that someone is watching you as you walk home. your neck hairs feel like they’re standing up completely straight, no matter how many times you scratch that stretch of skin.

the relief you feel after getting inside your house is immeasurable.

the feeling stops.

the rain only gets worse as the day progresses.

you stay inside; you have off work today, so you make yourself a nice tea and settle into the couch with a good book you’ve been pushing off on finishing. you deserve a nice day to yourself; and a rainy day is a fantastic excuse to do so.

the night comes before you realize it, the street lamps turning on amongst the torrential downpour. it’s a mess out there, car engines muffled by the rain hammering on your roof. you trudge into the kitchen, an instant ramen packet making its way into a bowl and into the microwave. tonight was not the night to be making dinner; low effort food was better than no food, and you did still have the bento box.

the movie you put on drifts you to sleep, warm ramen and bento in your belly as your eyes slide shut. despite your mini-breakdown in the graveyard, you feel good that you went. you know shuji would have appreciated it, in his own little way. you can practically see his crooked smile behind your eyelids. a visit? for me? you shouldn’t have, doll. feelin’ pretty taken care of.

“fuck you,” you whisper as sleep finally claims you.

it doesn’t last for long.

a loud bang on the door forces you awake. your watch that you hold up to your face reads 03:00 AM in bright numbers, and you groggily wipe at your eyes. “the fuck?” you say to yourself, wondering how badly this person needs you to answer the door. you pause before getting up, waiting for another knock. maybe if you don’t make yourself known to be home, they’ll go away — none of your indoor lights are on to indicate you’re even home, barring the normal porch light. you can see a shadow against the wall, but nothing more.

the banging starts again, even louder this time, and you jump to your feet. adrenaline spikes through your veins, fear clutching at you as you pad towards the door. “my god, okay, okay!” you holler towards the door as your hand lands on the doorknob.

you don’t turn it, though. you’re frozen all of a sudden.

the doorknob’s golden cover is ice cold. like someone is chilling it from the outside.

something primal arises in you. it’s a flight response, you’ve felt it before so many times when you’d hang around kisaki and shuji. you know it so well, even after all these years. why now? your brain panics, neurons firing, colliding information around in your head as if your very self is going scorched earth. every alarm in your mind is going off, telling you to not open this fucking door.

what the fuck what the fuck what the f—

you yank it open anyway. it takes effort, more effort than you’re used to, but you do it anyway.

a beat passes as your eyes take in what’s been lurking and banging behind the wooden door, and then you’re screaming. a bloodcurdling scream, one that sounded as if its coming from a prey animal having been caught by a predator, calling for help. it sounds far away — you can feel your vocal chords moving, but the sound doesn’t sound like it’s coming from you.

a humanoid hand slams over your mouth, pushing you back inside. the door closes behind the intruder, and you just stand there, shaking, letting its hand pressure your mouth as if wanting it to shut you up. heaven knows you wouldn’t have been able to stop at the horror you see before you.

it’s shuji. and he is covered in dirt.

it sticks to his pale skin, bits falling onto your carpet. he stinks of death, brown soil and grass dirtying the remaining fabric of his three-piece striped suit. dried blood is caked all over him, only adding to the horrible smell that’s coming off of him.

your eyes move upwards.

his lips seem normal; not the undead purple that you’re used to seeing in your shitty zombie Halloween movies. in fact, he seems relatively intact despite being dead as the dirt that clings to his body from hours ago.

he’s even wearing circular glasses as you look up to meet his eyes, against every screeching nerve of your judgement.

his eyes are…normal.

well, they’re glowing, which is different.

but they’re the same gold and purple that you remember. one of his lenses is broken, cracks spiderwebbed across its surface. beyond that, the structure of the frames seems as though its kept up. the crack looks newer. one of his hands comes up to his face to push the glasses further up his nose — you don’t miss the dirt caked under his broken fingernails. they’re cracked in odd places, as if…

as if he clawed his way out of the grave you were just at.

your entire body is frozen. you can’t scream anymore even if you wanted to, and he seems to recognize that as he removes his large hand. his hands are clammy, but he says nothing. he looks almost as surprised as you are, but in a different way. there’s no fear in his eyes, not a single hint of it. you would know; you’ve seen him afraid a handful of times, but for some reason there’s nothing like that there.

there’s only a strong, intense look. the word that appears in your brain is devotion.

something finally clicks in your brain, and you can move again.

you take a step back.

he takes a step forward.

you take another step back.

he takes another step forward.

your hand, shaking so hard you can barely point at him, raises. your finger quivers.

“y-y-y-y-you’re s-supposed to be—”

for the first time since rising again, shuji speaks.

“dead?”

his voice is gravelly. harsh. like he hasn’t used it in a while — which you instantly scoff at, because yeah, of course he wouldn’t have used it in a while. he’s been dead for weeks!

“yes!” it comes out as a squeak, your pointer finger still jabbing at him. “what the fuck! what is this? is this a sick joke? who are you? why are you dressed up as my friend? why—”

he lurches forward, hand gripping onto your shoulder. his grip is more intense than it used to be, as if he’s trying to dig underneath your skin. dig, dig, dig. as if to root himself inside of you.

you should run, you know that. you should run to your room and lock the door and pray to every god that he goes away. you should run the few steps through the kitchen to grab one of your knives, even if killing him again won’t kill him forever since he clearly can’t just stay dead. there’s a glimmer of hope that he disappears with the night, like a bad dream. this is just a bad dream, a nightmare. just a nightmare, of course, why didn’t you—

“not a dream, doll. it’s me.”

did i say that out loud?

the pet name flips a switch, and where there was cold fear, warm rage floods through your veins. you push off his hand with more force than you think you have, and your palms plant on his chest, ready to shove him away.

your hands freeze against him, like you can’t move him. like he locks your hands in place simply by touching him. the tile beneath your bare feet actively battles against you.

“fuck you,” you spit at him, pressing against him, trying to move your hands as his eyes widen behind his glasses, “fuck you, fuck you, fuck you. i cannot believe you— what the fuck is this? what the fuck are you doing here? how dare you—”

a litany of curses falls from your mouth in a rainstorm, almost as terrifying as the storm echoing outside. thunder rumbles and cracks as your voice raises in tone, lightning flashing through the window. it lights up shuji’s face, and his expression has your hands curling into fists, beating his chest, slamming against the clammy skin.

“why?” you finally shriek. “why now? why would you torment me like this? do you know how long it took me to gather the courage to even bother visiting you and Tetta? do you understand how this fucked me up? how my first fucking boyfriend died in some dumb ass stand-off in a gang that you didn’t belong in when you should have just—fucking stayed with me? DO YOU?”

a final thunderclap shakes your apartment’s walls, as if the very gods are rioting against what’s happening in your kitchen. as if they disagree with the unspoken ritual that’s happened to bring shuji back. as if they are as angry as you are for seeing the man you loved since you were a child standing in your kitchen, dripping blood, dirt and viscera all over your white tile.

your voice dies in your throat, the last words you’d spoken echoing around the apartment. tears flood your cheeks, dripping onto the floor. shuji says nothing, eyes wide in surprise. he studies you, more than he used to; he was always so flippant, but now…it looks like he’s actually listening. like he can actually hear you for once.

he looks hurt.

“no.”

his answer is short. you feel like an egg cracked open now, arms falling uselessly by your sides as you stand there and cry in front of him, sobs tearing at your throat. “how could you?” you manage to get out, watching him through bleary eyes, more sobs falling from your lips. you let him move to you—

and his arms wrap around you.

his lips press against the shell of your ear as your sobs quiet into sniffles and hiccups.

“i’m so sorry. i’m so, so, so sorry, doll. so sorry.”

“you think an apology is gonna fix this?” you whisper wetly.

“no.”

“then why would you—”

“because even if you take or not, you still deserve one.”

you’ve been through so many emotions in the past minutes. it’s felt like a whirlwind. “i know, moron,” you hiccup, “but you haven’t answered me. why are you here?”

shuji moves away from you then. there’s color coming back into his cheeks, as if he’s warming up again just by standing in the heat of your home. the dirt has liquefied, rivulets dripping off of him and onto your floor, but you don’t care. you’re suddenly so tired, your legs shaking, but you need an answer. you need him to answer you—

“because of you. because you need me. because i love you.”

you blink. “y-you what?” you gasp out.

he repeats himself, like he’s reading out the ingredients on the back of a soup can. it feels so far away as your legs finally give out, the floor quickly speeding towards your vision. you don’t miss the feeling of him catching you, large (warmed) hands wrapped around your figure as you pass out. his declaration lingers, though, like a whisper as you let yourself slip into unconsciousness.

“i love you.”

divider credit: @/cafekitsune networks: @pixelcafe-network @themovingcastlez

disclaimer: DO NOT copy or repost my works for any reason. translations are acceptable, but please ask for permission first!

© togamest 2023-2024

[ohmygraves]

Hello, this is my first time jump into someone's ask box. May i have a request Gaz or any TF141 men you think would fit with reader who has big bruises on their body (they got it from mission or simply after training) but reader choose to hide it and tend the bruises by them selves. The man found this out by accident when they're changing clothes or whatever scenario you would put up. It's a bit angst but with a lot of comfort afterwards. You may ignore this if you feel uncomfortable with this trope..

Sincerely

Anon from Indonesia UTC+8

hello anon, thank you so much for requesting! i feel like they all would be concerned if the reader got hurt but refused to go get it checked with the medics (⁠ ⁠･ั⁠﹏⁠･ั⁠) so i will try to write some bits for all of them 💖 i hope you like it, sorry it took so long!

you got hurt on the last mission you went to with gaz.

you, captain price, and the sergeant were on the comms line together. you're in charge of backing up kyle when he infiltrates the building, and was talking with laswell and price. some dumb jokes, catching up with the station chief, stuff like that. the mission had been slow, and you're getting bored staying out there alone glued to the scope.

looking back, you probably shouldn't have joined in on the banter. you completely missed an enemy ambushing you from behind, and had lost communications for a few minutes as you got slammed against a huge boulder, tossed around by the man who attacked you. it was a miracle you got back in one piece, only bruised and some small cuts after the scuffle. you were lucky, so lucky that you're not sure if this were to happen again, you'd probably not going to be able to return at all.

you noticed how kyle, price and laswell was worried during your disappearance from the comms line, especially since kyle kept calling for you a few times and you wouldn't answer. after you shot the man down, you brushed off your clothes and returned to your post, apologizing to everyone and explaining what had happened. you assured everything is fine, and that you're okay and can still keep going. you didn't bleed out or anything.

oh, how wrong you were.

as you sat on the exfil vehicle together with price and gaz, you're starting to feel sore. the adrenaline coursing through your veins must've dulled the pain earlier, and now that it's gone down, you're feeling the pain.

honestly, pain might be an understatement, because you feel like you just got hit by a car.

god, your body hurts. every inch of your body feels like it's screaming for mercy. you're sure that bruises are forming somewhere under your clothes, but you honestly can't be bothered to even go to the medic for this. not when kyle is bleeding beside you and price is stressed because the target escaped.

it's fine, you can deal with it later. frozen peas and some painkillers will do the job.

you didn't realize that someone did notice how you're nearly limping around to go catch up with price for a debriefing...

john price

he'd noticed that you were hurt after you returned his calls on the comms, just after you finished shooting the guy who messed you up on the field. although, he was too occupied to even press you more about it, deciding to trust you that everything is fine on your end. thankfully, you did returned to the helo in one piece, which eases his mind.

still, he couldn't help but notice how off you're walking to his office, wincing slightly as you take each step. something must've happened back then when you were cut off from comms, and he needs to know. he quickly finished debriefing and dismissed everyone else, but told you to stay behind.

you feel your bones creak every time you move, even if that doesn't seem physically possible.

"are you sure you're okay?" price asked you, crossing his arms over his chest as he examined you top to bottom, "you're limping quite awfully, doll."

"'m fine, captain... gonna go check on kyle..." you replied curtly, not wanting him to make a big deal out of it. it's just a couple of bruises, nothing bad surely.

"get it checked with the medics. and i'll know if you don't." he sighed, "i know you think you can fix it yourself, but you should get it checked either way. you may be able to fix some scrapes, but you'll need to see if you broke any ribs or not."

"but—"

"it's an order, soldier," price snapped, "no ifs or buts."

you didn't say anything, simply nodding and turned back to leave his office. you might actually do it, given how sore your body feels right now. you didn't hear that price approached you, holding your hand over the doorknob. his eyes looked closer to examine you, his free hand moving to caress your cheek, his thumb wiping off the dirt on your face.

"take care of yourself, love. please."

"i'll try, captain..."

"good. that's all i asked."

simon "ghost" riley

you decided that you want to take a shower before going to see kyle at the infirmary.

he was bleeding a lot, it might take a while to see him anyway. and you were rolling around on mud that whole mission, you feel like you were covered in dirt from head to toe. gross.

the communal shower is just a few meters away anyway.

you took a small detour to your room to grab a change of clothes, thankful that you prepared it in advance. grabbing a cargo pants and a pair of clean t-shirt, you walked into the communal shower at the base, taking off your dirty clothes and setting it aside. it'll be cleaner if you wash them yourself.

changing was hard, your arms feel like it's so sore that it's about to fall off, and not to mention you can't even move freely. maybe price was right, you broke a rib because your chest is hurting slightly when you try to pull your dirty t-shirt over your head.

"what the hell happened t'ya?"

a rough voice called out to you as you heard someone stepped closer. you glanced to see who it was as you struggled to take off your clothes, seeing the familiar mask over the face and a bare, scarred chest. oh, it's just ghost.

"ya looked like a bruised apple."

you laughed, knowing how much your body hurts right now, you kind of feel like one too.

"got thrown around during the mission with gaz and the captain," you replied, trying to wrestle your t-shirt out over your head still as you wince slightly, "just... god, no big deal, really... gaz got shot..."

ghost hummed, nodding slightly as he sees you struggling to undress. "need help?" he asked, eyeing your bruises under the t-shirt peeking out while you try to peel off the fabric off of your body.

"please do, i'm losing my mind..."

"guess someone needs t'see medic after this..."

you rolled your eyes as ghost yanked the shirt off of your body in one swoop, making you groan and hiss at the sharp pain you felt. clearly he wasn't gentle enough.

"sorry," ghost apologized. you didn't really mind, brushing it off as you kicked off your boots and pants down, throwing it somewhere in the room.

"i'll live... thanks, ghost."

he nodded, giving your head a small pat as he turned around to his own locker, his fingers messing your hair up. "don't act tough, go see the medic after this."

you didn't want to tell him that you liked that he patted you on the head, so you grumbled up a response, pouting. "yeah, yeah... you're such a worrywart."

"i mean it. those bruises are messed up."

"i know, i know... geez."

ghost shook his head as he patted your head again, a little more roughly this time, messing your hair as he got dressed and left the communal shower.

john "soap" mactavish

the moment the water hits you, you couldn't help but groan out in pain. you weren't expecting hot water or anything, but at least not something that would literally freeze your arse up. you weren't sure if cold water is better since you're far too distracted from the pain by how cold your fingertips are.

you wondered if there's any way you could get some hot water, most of the time it's always broken.

your fingers started messing with the dial, fumbling as you tried to dodge the cold water hitting those sore spots on your body.

"jesus wit happened to ye, bonnie?"

you turned around seeing soap in his naked glory, somehow. having seen everyone naked at this point, you didn't care enough to mention it. it's the shower anyway.

"got smacked across the face by the enemy earlier on mission."

"yer like a bruised pear."

you shrugged it off, "lt said apple earlier, but same difference i suppose."

he chuckled, looking at what you were doing. he didn't say anything, simply moving to adjust the water for you. after fiddling for a while, he managed to find a good enough temperature that you could enjoy.

"need help, bonnie?"

"'m good, soap. you should go see gaz."

he didn't fight you, simply giving you some head pats, chuckling when he sees your pouting face. sometimes you feel like he's treating you like a kid or like a younger sibling... well, until he gave your butt a squeeze anyway.

"ow! soap!" you yelped in pain, knowing that a bruise has formed there too. soap laughed, giving it a small pat as he teased you again.

"careful, bonnie. can't get our star all bruised now~"

you rolled your eyes, sticking your tongue at him as he walked out of the communal shower.

kyle "gaz" garrick

after taking about an hour on your "quick shower", you get changed and decide to go see gaz in medbay. knowing that he got shot made you feel awful, so you just want to see if he's okay. you're sure he's fine, but he's going to keep bitching about it for weeks.

you made your way to the medbay, seeing if you could visit kyle. he was on the bed, pouting, so you decided to walk in and sit by his bedside.

"hey, you okay?" you asked him, seeing how he's wrapped in bandages.

"have a few extra holes on me, but i'd say i'm feeling better... you?" gaz let out a sigh as he looked at you, noticing the way you sit uncomfortably on the chair because of your bruises.

"i'll live."

"they got you too, huh?" gaz sighed, looking disappointed at you, "i'll call the medics."

you didn't want to bother him, so you tried to stop him.

"what? you're hurt. just because it's bruises doesn't mean that you can just brush it off." gaz shakes his head, taking your hand in his. "i don't like seeing you get hurt."

that made you blush, your heart thumping as kyle called for the medics to check on you too. you could feel his hand on yours, thumbs caressing the back of your hand as medics approached you.

[cuddlytogas]

there was some Twitter madness recently where someone left a comment on someone's art to the effect of, "Ed shouldn't wear a dress, he's a man!" which I do disagree with on principle, but unfortunately, it brought out one of my least favourite trends in the fandom

so, naturally, I had to write a twitter essay about it. and I already largely argued this in a post here, but the thread is clearer and better structured, so I thought I'd cross-post for those not on the Hellsite (derogatory). edited for formatting/structure's sake, since I no longer have to keep to tweet lengths, and incorporating a couple of points other people brought up in the replies

so

I want to point out that the wedding cake toppers in OFMD s2 aren't evidence that Ed wants to wear dresses. Gender is fake, men can wear skirts, play with these dolls how you like, but it's not canon, and that scene especially Doesn't Mean That.

People cite it often: 'He put himself in a dress by painting the bride as himself! It's what he wants!' But that fundamentally misunderstands the scene, and the series' framing of weddings as a whole. I'd argue that Ed paints the figure not from desire, but from self-hatred; it's not what he wants, but what he thinks he should, and has failed to, be.

(Yes, I am slightly biased by my rampant anti-marriage opinions, but bear with me here, because it is relevant to the interpretation of the scene, and season two as a whole.)

The show is not subtle. It keeps telling us that the institution of marriage is a prison that suffocates everyone involved. Ed's parents' cycle of abuse is passed to their son in both the violence he witnesses then enacts on his father, and the self-repression his mother teaches, despite her good intentions ("It's not up to us, is it? It's up to God. ... We're just not those kind of people. We never will be."). Stede and Mary are both oppressed by their arranged marriage, with 1x04 blunty titled Discomfort in a Married State. The Barbados widows revel in their freedom ("We're alive. They're dead. Now is your time").

But even without this context, the particular wedding crashed in 2x01 is COMICALLY evil. The scene is introduced with this speech from the priest:

"The natural condition of humanity is base and vile. It is the obligation of people of standing ... to elevate the common human rabble through the sacred transaction of matrimony."

It's upper class, all-white, and religiously sanctioned. "Vile natural conditions" include queerness, sexual freedom, and family structures outside the cisheteropatriarchal capitalist unit. "The obligation of people of standing" invokes ideas like the white man's burden, innate class hierarchy, religious missions, and conversion therapy. Matrimony is presented as both "sacred" (endorsed by the ruling religious body), and a "transaction" (business performed to transfer property and people-as-property, regardless of their desires), a tool of the oppressive society that pirates escape and destroy. That is where the figurines come from.

When Ed, in a drunk, depressive spiral, paints himself onto the bride, he's not yearning for a pretty dress. He's sort of yearning for a wedding, but that's not framed as positive. What he's doing is projecting himself into an 'ideal' image of marriage because he believes that: a) that's what Stede (and everyone) wants; b) he can never live up to that ideal because he's unlovable and broken (brown, queer, lower-class, violent, abused, etc); c) that's why Stede left. He tries to make himself fit into the social ideal by painting himself onto the closest match - long-haired, partner to Stede/groom, but a demure, white woman, a frozen, porcelain miniature - because, if he could just shrink himself down and squeeze into that box, maybe Stede would love him and he'd live happily ever after. But he can't. So he won't.

The fantasy fails: Ed is morose, turns away from the figurines, then tips them into the sea, a lost cause. He knows he won't ever fulfil that bride's role, but he sees that as a failure in himself, not the role. It's not just that "Stede left, so Ed will never have a dream wedding and might as well die." Stede left when Ed was honest and vulnerable, "proving" what his trauma and depression tell him: there's one image of love (of personhood), and he'll never live up to it because he's fundamentally deficient. So he might as well die.

This hit me from my very first viewing. The scene is devastating, because Ed is wrong, and we know it! He doesn't need to change or reduce himself to fit an image and be accepted (as, eg, Izzy demanded). Stede knows and loves him exactly as he is; it's the main thread and theme of season two!

(@/everyonegetcake suggested that Ed's yearning in these scenes includes his broader desire for the vulnerability and safety Stede offered, literalised through unattainable "fine" things like the status of gentleman in s1, or the figurine's blue dress. I'd argue, though, that these scenes don't incorporate this beyond a general knowledge of Ed's character. Ed is always pining for both literal and emotional softness, but the significance of the figurines specifically, to both Ed and the audience, is poisoned by their origin and context: there is no positive fantasy in the bride figure, only Ed's perceived deficiency.

Further, assuming that a desire for vulnerability necessarily corresponds with an explicit desire for femininity, dresses, etc, kind of contradicts the major themes of the show. OFMD asserts that there is nothing wrong with men assuming femininity (through drag, self-care, nurturing, emotional vulnerability, etc), but also that many of these traits are, in fact, genderless, and should be available to men without affecting their perceived or actual masculinity. It thematically invokes the potential for cross-gender expression in Ed's desires, especially through the transgender echoes in his relieved disposal, then comfortable reincorporation, of the Blackbeard leathers/identity. It's a rich, valuable area of analysis and exploration. But it remains a suggestion, not a canon or on-screen trait.)

Importantly, the groom figure doesn't fit Stede, either. Not just in dress: it's stiff and formal, and marriage nearly killed him. He's shabbier now, yes, but also shedding his privilege and property, embracing his queerness, and trying to take responsibility for his community. In a s1 flashback, Stede hesitantly says, "I thought that, when I did marry, it could be for love," but he would never find love in marriage. Not just because he's gay, but because marriage in OFMD is an oppressive, transactional institution that precludes love altogether. All formal marriages in OFMD are loveless.

So, he becomes a pirate, where they reject society altogether and have matelotages instead. Lucius and Pete's "mateys" ceremony is shot and framed not like a wedding, but as an honest, personal bond, willingly conducted in community (in a circle; no presiding authority, procession, or transaction).

That is how Stede and Ed can find love, companionship, and happiness: by rejecting those figurines and their oppressive exchange of property, overseen by a church that enables colonialism and abuse. Ed is loved, and deserves happiness, as he is, no paint or projection required.

ALL OF THIS IS TO SAY: draw Ed in dresses! Write him getting gender euphoria in skirts! Write trans/nb Ed, draw men being feminine! Gender is fake, the show invites exploration, that's what 'transformative works' means! But please, stop citing the cake toppers as evidence it's canon. Stop citing a scene where a depressed Māori man gets drunk and projects himself onto a rich, white, silent bride because he thinks he's innately unlovable and only people like her can find happiness, shortly before deciding to kill himself, as canon evidence it's what he wants.

(Also, please don't come in here with "lmao we're just having fun," I know, I get it. Unfortunately, I'm an academiapilled researchmaxxer, and some of youse need to remember that the word "canon" has meaning. NOW GO HAVE FUN PUTTING THAT MAN IN A PRETTY DRESS!! 💖💖)

[fernhelm]

pls talk more about narcissa

welll since you asked….

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹🦢⊹₊ ⋆୨ৎ

she’s her mother’s dress-up doll, she’s clytemnestra, she stabbed the dark lord in the back, she’s precise, she made an unbreakable vow to protect draco, she’s a strategist, she just wants to be left alone, she’s the ugly little duckling, she’s a lake that looks placid on the surface, but is raging underneath. if there’s one word for her, it’s bitter. she did everything she was supposed to and got fucked anyway.

narcissa in canon is defined by her role as a mother in a similar way to lily, but she is a mother who is present and therefore is able to disappoint; who sends her son sweets in the mail, but fails to protect him from joining a cult at sixteen….she is so interesting precisely because of those contradictions. she is the devoted wife & mother, ensnared by the same black family allegiances & obligations as the others, but she fights to create her own paradise within that aristocratic hellscape while still obeying its rules. she wants her cake and to eat it too. to belong to a crumbling, stifling magical dynasty and still raise a son turns out okay. her house is her domain (“this is my house, bella, you don’t give orders in my…”), it’s the small bit of power she’s carved out for herself. and you’ll have to pry it out of her cold dead hands.

my narcissa has really intense control issues. i think she has some paranoias & anxieties around eating. she likes to look impeccable so no one can sense the disaster going on inside. she enjoys the riches and prestige of being a black or a malfoy but she’d sell every piece of jewelry in her jewelry box to read a book alone by the sea…to me, she is a lesbian and she knows it, it just isn’t something she’d ever be willing to acknowledge. of everyone, she is in the most need of a rage room. imagine her in vintage dior and a black headband brutally beating the shit out of lucius’ car with a baseball bat (he cheated on her, and she wouldn’t care but he got caught and now it’s tabloid news.) after a childhood of disassociating to cope with her dysfunctional home, she has a hard time identifying her own emotions. she’s a marionette being piloted by a blonde chess prodigy in black patent leather mary janes. its like ratatouille. most of the time when she’s shaking hands and smiling serenely she’s thinking about a ballet performance or fencing or opera or wizarding history (i think she really likes history). in writing her it’s such a joy to explore who she becomes if she gets to do whatever she wants. what does she want anyway? outside of being a mother? do we know?

ALSO, something so fairytale perfect about her and her sisters…a pretty pair of three. she is the exact in-between of the two–if bella is fight and andy is flight, she’s freeze. she’s the little blonde outlier who was paraded around at parties until her face hurt from kissing cheeks. her sisters are the only ones who see through to the core of her. she needs both of them- bella as her shield and andy as her sword. when andy leaves it’s like she gets frozen in time.

my favorite pairing for her is alice, but i can accept lucissa if they’re in the background of a drarry fic. her and alice would live in a sea-side cottage in france and run a winery or something. she’s the ice queen and alice is the knight in shining armor. finally someone wants her to have every good thing she’s ever denied herself. she’s supposed to be a good little lady, and i think alice would make her want to go wild and roll around in the mud. yum.

[frozen-snowflakesandsunflowers]

D23: Frozen: What to expect | Discussion

D23 is just a week away, coming next weekend and we're expected to get a lot of Disney content! But will Frozen be a part of it? I believe so, yes. Frozen has two films coming out, Frozen 3 and 4 and also has a series coming out called Frozen: Winter Festival based on the leaked dolls so it's a must that Disney feeds us new Frozen content!

Please note that I'll just be guessing at what they could announce at the panel. Nothing's confirmed yet. These are my thoughts and opinions based on the evidence we have. What kind of Frozen content could we be expecting exactly? Let me break it down.

Frozen 3 and 4

With the announcement of Frozen 4 earlier this year with Frozen 3 already in the works, it's likely Disney will give us the full release date for Frozen 3 and 4. So far we know Frozen 3 will be released in 2026. Given the previous two films release dates, the third and fourth installment will also most likely be in November. Earlier this year (or was it last year?...) a few release date slots were leaked and one of them was 27 November 2026. Same for Frozen 4, except the date was 24 November 2027, a year after Frozen 3 like i expected given it's a two set film. So we assume Frozen 3 and 4 will have those as its release date but that has not been confirmed as of yet but it should do during the D23 expo.

Series

A few months back, we were all surprised by the leaks of brand new Frozen dolls with will be available on 15th September (A day before my birthday!). The shorts are set to release this fall. What's so special about dolls? Well it's also the information that comes with it. The info can be found in the link above but it states that the dolls, with new outfits, are part of Frozen: Winter Festival. We all thought at the time that this was a short like Frozen Fever, Olaf's Frozen Adventure and Once Upon a Snowman. But later on with another set of dolls, in the same outfit but included Olaf, the Nokk and a carriage. The description of the set reveals Frozen: Winter Festival is a short-form series. Short-form series are series with episodes under 20 - 30 minutes.

This is one of the doll packs in a box:

The box is what I want to draw attention too because it includes the recent new Elsa render/ still and a new logo design for Frozen. The title is the same but what it's in, the diamond shape with a detail pattern on the sides. The box has a blue purplish pink colour on it and the background seems to be of the woods we see in the first film. It can't be the Enchanted forest because it doesn't have a lake, and this is not the dark sea because that's part of the beach. Some of you might be like what's the big deal but for some it might feel a sense of nostalgia because this aesthetic of the box is similar to Frozen's aesthetic. Frozen 2 had the autumn leaf and a lot of things felt different. Change was the element of the movie anyways. But this short could be a mix of Frozen and Olaf's Frozen Adventure which I'm super excited for!

With this series set to make the beginning of Winter we expect a similar vibe to Olaf's Frozen Adventure with the holidays theme. Here are the descriptions for Elsa and Anna's dolls:

What we'll see in the short, based on the dolls and their description:

• The main Frozen gang will host an inaugural (mark the begging of winter) Winter Festival to celebrate Arendelle, family and friends

• Some familiar faces

• Two new looks for Elsa and Anna: A ball gown and a festival attire

• The Nokk will take part in the event

I also just realised Elsa's birthday is on the Winter Solstice, December 21st aka the beginning of Winter! So I would love to see Elsa's birthday addressed in the series! We have Anna's birthday and now we could have Elsa's birthday! And it's a double celebration because we should have Elsa's birthday and definitely the Winter Festival.

At the expo, we should have an update about this short-form series and get a full release date. A trailer and first look with a poster is possible too if it's set to come this fall, which is just around the corner. And also the cast reveal and story synopsis.

The series will be animated like the movies and shorts. Short-form series usually, as far as I know, air in TV but I'm not sure if this will air in TV or go straight onto Disney plus.

Any other new Frozen content?

Other than the movies, Frozen 3 and 4 and the short-form series, Frozen: Winter Festival, nothing else has been leaked or confirmed at this point with regards to the franchise so I can't say what else to expect. The team are good at revealing unexpected surprises with Frozen 3's announcement than Frozen 4's and then we have doll leaks revealing an upcoming short-form series (could be accidentally on purpose) so who knows what else is in store for us. (Though I know not many of you will want to expect or have high hopes which is fair)

The series is probably there to keep us fed until we have the big meal (Frozen 3 and 4) in two years. After the series is over, we'll probably have to wait til Frozen 3 and 4 for another big Frozen content. Announcements like casting could be released in 2025, next year and trailers we'll get in 2026 if it follows the same pattern as the previous two films. But then again you never know. We never expected the series so who knows, Disney could surprise us at any time.

And that's all I believe will be announced Frozen wise as far as we know. Anything else they've got planned will also be announced unless they're saving it for a later event. If you guys are expect anything else to be announced in D23, let me know!

[ken-dom]

Lavender

Ken x gn!reader

Artwork by the wonderful @dranna

Request from @dranna: Hii , I saw your requests are open, so may I request a Ken and reader fluff ? Basically the idea is that Ken burst into the kitchen so excitedly, because he learned something new. Reader accidentally breaks a mug due to this and speak to him a little frustrated. He leaves the room and hours later reader finds him sobbing, thinking they will leave him, and he is not good enough.After this it’s basically fluff fluff fluff :’) I love this guy’s Kenergy

Author’s notes: Thank you for the gorgeous request darling! I had fun with this one, although I changed it a little as I didn’t have the heart to leave him crying for too long 😅 hope it's fluffy enough 🩷 (please note I temporarily closed requests after this was sent in, but my ask box is always open)

Warnings/content: 1.4k words, angst, fluff, crying, comfort, kissing, hinted praise kink, gn!reader

‘Do you have lavender?!’

‘Ken, what-’

As you turned to face him, Ken was already too close and barrelled into you, unable to stop in time.

The two mugs you were holding crashed to the floor, sending shards of porcelain skidding over the tiles and the contents splattering over your feet, staining your socks with thick chocolate, sticky cream and lumps of half melted marshmallow.

It almost happened in slow motion; both of you stood frozen to the spot in stunned silence and Ken wincing and holding his breath as he watched the porcelain shatter.

‘Oh… my favourite mug,’ you sighed quietly, more to yourself than to him.

But he heard disappointment in your tone, and released his breath with an almost garbled string of apologies.

‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry, here, let me-’

He dropped to the floor, hastily trying to remove your wet, chocolate coated socks.

‘Ken, you don’t have to-’ you started, not wanting him to worry about it too much or hurt himself on a sharp piece of porcelain.

‘Ken, really-’ you tried again, to no avail.

You knew he struggled to navigate everyday situations like this, and that he meant well, but having him pull at your uncomfortably sticky clothes while your last helping of hot chocolate was spilled on the floor and your favourite mug was destroyed was really not helping.

‘Ken!’ you snapped, immediately regretting your tone. You took a slow, deep breath, continuing quietly. ‘Look, it would be easier if you just… got out of the way.’

He paused then, looking up at you with the saddest eyes you thought you’d ever seen. Your heart sank in your chest. 

‘Oh, Ken… I didn’t mean-’

As you reached down to help him up, he shot up from the floor without taking your hand and fled the kitchen with an arm thrown over his face, the tassels of his shirt swaying dramatically as he ran.

Of course, he had no idea where to go without you, so he only ran upstairs — the furthest point from you that would keep you within reach. The furthest point from where he’d ruined everything.

You could hear his loud sobs echoing down the stairs as you collected the shards of porcelain from the floor, swept up, mopped, and finally bundled your sticky socks into the washing machine.

By the time you were done, his sobbing was quieter, more like whimpers now.

Chastising yourself for being too harsh, you made your way upstairs to find him face down on your bed, crying into your pillow.

You sat carefully on the mattress beside him and began lightly stroking his back.

‘Ken, baby?’

‘I-I know- I r-ruined- everything!’ he cried, muffled by the pillow.

Each sobbed word broke your heart a little more.

‘Come here.’

Ken slowly pushed himself up, ready for the inevitable. You’d already told him it would be easier if he was out of the way. Surely it was only a matter of time until you wanted rid of him completely, and then what would he do? Where would he go? A discarded, unwanted Ken doll left to fend for himself in the Real World where he couldn’t even get a job as a simple doctor with a clicky pen. Pathetic.

His wet eyes met yours with uncertainty, but they sparkled when you held your arms out to invite him closer. Perhaps there was hope after all.

‘You haven’t ruined a thing, Ken. Well, except for my favourite mug. But it’s replaceable, and I suppose I can forgive you. If I must,’ you joked, feeling him tremble against you.

‘You… you mean I’m not… bad? You… still want me around?’

You chuckled softly into his soft, mussed hair and squeezed him in your arms. You couldn’t see it, but your tight embrace caused a smile to flicker briefly over his lips. 

‘Look at me.’

He pulled back, still in your arms, eyes wide and wet with tears that he wiped away with the sleeve of his cowboy shirt.

‘You’re good, Ken.’

He blinked his gaze away, blushing, and you made a mental note for a later date; Likes praise. Got it.

‘It was just an accident. These things happen here in the Real World – everything can’t be perfect all the time. Even you! And that’s ok. You’re doing so well here, and as much as I appreciate your support, just remember that I can handle it when little things go wrong. Alright?’

Ken nodded, his brow furrowing as he thought about what you’d said. Maybe he had been a little too eager. He just wanted to put things right but he had no idea how.

‘I’m sorry it was all so overwhelming. I didn’t mean to make you cry.’

‘Oh, no, it wasn’t you. I just… I try so hard to get everything right and most of the time I only make things worse.’ There was a hitch in his breath, as though saying it out loud was a relief and a realisation all at once.

‘You don’t need to get everything right. You make my day so much brighter! I never want to be without you, Ken.’

‘Really?’

You’d never seen such excitement in his eyes, even when he discovered that the ridiculous mink coat he loves so much had a horse pattern inlay.

‘Really.’

You spent what felt like an eternity just smiling at one another then, feeling your connection grow and strengthen. It’s probably the Kenergy, you thought, biting your lip to keep from laughing and spoiling the moment. Then you had another thought.

‘That was my last hot chocolate, but…’ 

You rummaged in your pocket until you found the little packet you’d stashed there on your way upstairs.

‘Open your mouth,’ you whispered, gently cupping his jaw in your palm and tracing your thumb over his bottom lip.

It was so wonderful how he leant into your touch and his mouth fell open so easily at your request, without question or hesitation. All he wanted was to please you and to feel your affection. It made your heart race.

‘Good Ken,’ you smiled, watching his cheeks flush again at your simple words.

With your free hand you popped a marshmallow between his lips and he laughed around it, smiling as he sucked the sweet and your thumb moved to wipe his tear stained cheeks.

‘I just don’t want to disappoint you,’ he breathed when he swallowed the last of his fluffy treat. ‘I’m trying.’

‘You never disappoint me, Ken. You surprise me every day.’

It felt natural when he leant into you, closing his eyes.

For the first time in his life, lips actually met his, soft and tingly and a little bit damp. He wasn’t sure what he expected it to feel like, but it was absolute bliss.

Warmth spread through his body, butterflies exploded in his stomach, and he melted for a moment, unable to move at how wonderful it all felt, until he was overcome with a burst of passion and his long manicured fingers wrapped around your arms and slid up into your hair. And he moaned. He actually moaned.

Wait until I show you how to use tongue, you thought with a smirk.

‘Wow,’ he uttered breathlessly as he dropped back, eyes fluttering open to smirk at you. It wasn’t smug though. It was proud and incredulous and filled with awe.

‘You liked that?’ you smiled. 

‘Liked it? I loved it!’

‘Me too.’

Ken’s chest swelled with satisfaction.

You reached for his hand to interlock your fingers with his and he squeezed, gasping joyfully as he stared at where your hands connected, as though it might cause some sort of magic. You half expected sparkles to erupt midair.

‘Hey, Ken, can I ask you something?’

‘Anything,’ he said dreamily, completely lost in the moment.

‘Why did you ask me for lavender earlier?’

His face lit up. ‘It says in my book that horses can find lavender calming, and I wanted to see what it smells like for myself, because apparently humans find it calming too? And since horses have an almost three hundred and sixty degree field of vision and sleep standing up…’

You ended up laid with your head on Ken’s chest as he excitedly told you every piece of information he had memorised about his beloved horses. You listened to him talk until he wore himself out.

You pulled a blanket up over both of you as he yawned.

‘I was wrong, Ken,’ you mused.

‘About what?’ he mumbled sleepily.

‘You are actually perfect.’

‘Thank you,’ he whispered, ‘and you are sublime.’ He kissed the top of your head gently before he fell asleep.

[gilverrwrites]

Hello could you please do some captain boomerang headcanon fluff, I don’t see enough of it on here.

AN: I can and I will. Good fluffy vibes only today, however, if you would like a reality check, please watch the video linked at the end.

Rating: General (however, wanting for swearing)

Please remember: Everything you're worried about, is going to turn out ok.

Ko-Fi || Masterlist || Request Info

He’s not much for texting, much prefers sending voice notes. These can range anywhere from simple good night/good morning notes, the longest, most pointless, probably drunken rambles, jokes he stole came up with, or professions of love.

When he texts, it’s always in 90s/early 00s style and full of emojis that don’t quite mean what he thinks they do.

Cn’t w8 2 c 👀 u 🫵l8r 👄❣️🪃 X 🌫️ Gud nite mu 🫥 u4e lol 😜 🩵🪃 xXx RUOK 4 d8 l8r??? 🌷💦 CUL ❤️‍🔥🪃 X

Has your name saved in his phone as the most ridiculous nickname you can think of, probably also with a bunch of emojis.

Dependant on your personality, petnames would include a few of the following: Darl’, darlin’, babs, babes, baby (pronounced bah-bee), sweets, hon, peachy, lovey, peanut, or doll.

Whatever your least favourite is, he will use the most cause he loves winding you up.

Swears at you, a lot. But its affectionate.

He’s not used to people doing things for him, so he is massively grateful when you do like menial domestic labour for him.

You sewed up the hole in my jacket? You’re THE best, I can’t believe you would do that for me. You did my laundry? WTF? You didn’t have to do that (he’s been wearing the same unwashed boxers for 2 weeks, someone had to) how can I ever repay you babes? You cooked for me? (It’s literally a pot-noodle) You’re an angel, I’m not welling up, shut it.

He’s really good at like, enhancing 'easy' food. He’ll add egg and chives and stuff to his packet noodles, makes the best cheese and vegemite toasty, knows just how much oil and extra cheese to add to a frozen pizza, and has mastered box mix cupcakes. His favourite is chocolate.

Uses a 5 in 1 shower gel, if and when he showers, and you cannot tell me he doesn’t blast lynx africa and/or paco rabanne 1 million so he smells woody and spicy.

However, if you have fancy smelly products of you’re own, he will use them. Gonna treat himself with a good scrub and some large helpings of your shampoo and conditioner (this one’s got multiple products for their hair, posho!)

Doesn’t matter if you use products intended for a specific skin/hair type, it’s getting used.

As a nice bonus he likes doing it cause it means your smell lingers on him when you’re not together.

Won’t admit it but he also really likes it if you burn candles and/or incense.

If you’re close enough in size, he will steal your clothes. Especially socks cause he is always wearing holes into his own.

Gets all gooey and excited when you wear his clothes, especially if you’re small enough that they look oversized, and are visibly his.

If you’re inclined to wear flowy summer dresses, he’ll go feral. Also, a big fan of linen shirts/blouses and short shorts.

When he’s dressed causal he lives in shorts and filp-flops, even in the midst of winter. Or if he’s not leaving the house he’ll just wear his boxer shorts.

Is gone for long periods of time (prison, hiding out etc) so is very clingy when you’re back together, and doesn’t really have boundaries.

Will walk in on you in the bath shower to use the toilet, or to just sit and talk to you. If you ask him nicely, he will wash your hair. Might not do a good job, but he will do it. Has his arms wrapped around your waist at all times while you’re trying to do chores or are out shopping. If he wakes before you (a rare occurrence) he will just lay on his side, watching you sleep. Might get impatient and attempt to subtly wake you by gently brushing your side or nose, or gently shaking your body.

Normally sleeps way into the day, and snores, loudly. Often wakes with a hangover. And will practically beg you to make him a bacon an egg.  

Loves almost any and all brekkie food, bacon, egg, hash browns, pancakes, you name it.

Is not a cuddly sleeper. Like he can fall asleep cuddling, but he will start rolling around, splaying his arms out, kicking his legs. Huge bed hog.

Says his favourite films are action, gangster, or like bro style comedies. Think like: Road House, Indian Jones, Kill Bill, The Gentleman, Kiss Kiss Bang Bang, The Hang Over.

If you put on a horror, drama, or rom com, he will not watch it with you.

But he will find things to do in the general vicinity. Or straight up do the dad thing of like standing in the middle of the room with his arms crossed. If he’s not sat with you, he’s technically not watching it.

So like, which one is actually her dad? They don’t tell you but the writ- No no no, don’t tell me, I’ll figure it out, Don’t go in the basement, there’s never anything good in the basement, oh she’s only bloody gone and went in the basement! But… Barbie doesn’t love Ken. I’m not cryin, I just got allergies, shut up an’ watch your dumb girly film.

Has a stolen tattoo gun,wants to get matching tattoos, has pro for everyone of your cons. Ideally, he just wants names/initials in hearts, but will settle for more symbolic tattoos. Like a boomerang to represent him for you, and something similar for you.

Keeping any gift you’ve ever given him for life.

I made you a friends ship braclet. Eh, ya know its not my normal kinda jewellery. You don’t ha- No, fuck off, I’m gonna wear it forever.  

Would still love you if you were a worm. Hasn’t the foggiest what he would do with you. But he would love you.

Obviously gonna teach you how to use a boomerang. Even if you already know, he’s gonna show you the right way. Gotta make sure his bab is protected. (Don’t tell him that you find them impractical and are unlikely to ever use one when in need, he will sulk.)

Aforementioned video.

[myabsurddreamjournal]

Fate (Part 3)

Soldier boy x Fem! reader

Summary: Reader is a scientist who is forced to work at lab that they keep soldier boy frozen, she talks and cries to him when she is alone, thinking he can't hear her but he hears everything.

her head was on something comfortable and warm, gentle fingers were brushing her hair. Her mother used to this after certain days, when her mind became so loud, all she could think about were the bad thoughts, the things she saw on the news, the things she heard from radio while sitting on the school bus, that dead body of a fox in the road, crushed by a car.

They haunted her. All her life, Even as a child she knew something was wrong with her, because unlike her, none of her friends were in constant fear and sadness. No matter what she did, Laughing or crying, big part of her was always thinking that she wasnt meant to be in this world.

that this world was wrong.

Fingers were on her cheek now, caressing it softly. She chased it with her head,

-"You sure resembe a kitty"

what?

this wasnt her mothers voice.

She opened her eyes in shock, A very familiar face with green eyes was looking down on her.

-"S-soldier boy!?"

-"I was afraid that you hit your head too hard back there"

Suddenly she was aware of sharp ache on the side of her head. But there was something else, her head, it was in his lap! heartbeat starting to speed up, she tried to stand up but his hand on her shoulder prevented it.

"Don't." he said sternly. "You need to lay down for a while"

"O-Okay.."

"H-how? " i mean w-what happened? where am i?"

"in a plane, we are going back to U.S."

she looked at him confusedly.

"You passed out back there, i carried you." he added.

upon hearing this, she looked at the surroundings, giant boxes and packets were everywhere. No seats were in sight. "must be a cargo plane" she thought. But why did she passed out?

she tried to recall past few hours, the sirens, and gunshots, the tall guy telling her to wake him up,

the last thing she remember was throwing that damn ashtray, then..

Him saying her name.

how could he know that?, it was impossible

"it could only happen if he was.." told a voice inside her.

suddenly, a horrible feeling started to form in her gut.

-"h-how do you know my name" she asked with a trembling voice, Praying that answer wouldnt be the one she expected.

-"i heard everyhting you told me."

For a few seconds, she was silent, the weight of what she just heard making her dizzy.

She tried to fight the feeling, not wanting to be so weak in front of him.

But when his hands started to stroke her hair again, her eyes became glassy, she closed them, tears falling on her cheeks,

she couldnt believe it, didn't want to believe it, all this time he was there, hearing her while she was crying and telling everything about her life to him, apologizing to him.

Admiring to him.

Taking his blood. Poking him with needles.

he was aware of everything they did.

She was sobbing now, trying to be quiet, she covered her face with hands but soldier boy pulled them away moments later,

-"Why are you crying doll?" he asked,

-"B-because i-i always found solace at the thought, that you were not in pain anymore, that you were asleep so you couldn't feel it." I never wanted to do the things they told me, the thin-

she couldnt finish because he lifted her chin with his finger, making her look at his eyes directly.

she gasped at what she saw, his green eyes,

they were burning, burning with rage.

she could almost see the flames in them, like in her dreams. The dreams she had since she was a child.

he leaned towards her and slowly took her arm in his hand, looking at the burn mark there.

-"they will pay for what they did." He said,

-"To you and me."

Notes: I hope you guys liked it! your comments are really important to me, also, do you guys also hate the world? Always feel free to talk to me :)

taglist: @deans-spinster-witch @mfnqueen1 @ponypickle @butchers-girl @verypostcrown

[itsplumwriter]

Baking for Bucky

POV: While browsing a small collector’s shop, Bucky finds a vintage WWII magazine from the 40s. He flips through the pages and spots a dessert recipe, asking if you could make it for him.

A/N: Just some fluffsss. I haven't written a fluffy piece in a while so I really hope you'll like this. I love baking, do y'all? It's such a comfort activity and I think it'd be so cute to bake for Bucky.

--- --- ---

“What are we making again?” you ask, pulling out the flour and sugar.

“Gingerbread. It’s a classic from the 40s,” Bucky says, flipping through the old-timey magazine. “Housewives used to pack it in their husband’s box lunches back in the day.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Housewife? I am a housewife now?”

He lowers the magazine, glancing at you. “You can be..."

You nearly trip trying to get the bowl. “Slow your roll, soldier...”

He chuckles as he helps you pull out the rest of the ingredients. You love him, obviously, and you could definitely see yourself marrying him. But you’re both enjoying the dating phase and there’s no need to rush things.

You add the ingredients to the bowl and stir it's contents carefully, noticing a concerned look on Bucky's face. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

Bucky smiles, enjoying the fact you know him so well. "The smell is just bringing me back... Usually sights, sounds, and smells bring me back to bad memories from my past, so it's kinda nice to have a smell trigger a good memory for once."

You smile and nod, hoping he'll say more; Bucky rarely opens up. When he does, you find it best to just keep quiet and let it flow naturally.

"I kinda miss the old days, you know?..." he continues. "Sometimes I hate that I was frozen for so long. That so many years were taken from me. Sometimes I wish I could have lived in the era I was supposed to.”

“I can understand that,” you say, nodding.

He approaches you, hugging you. “But the thing is if I hadn’t been frozen... I never would’ve met you."

He buries his head in the crook of your neck. "And that sorta makes it all worth it."

“Bucky,” you sigh. His words are sweet, but they make you upset. "I don't want you to say anything was worth what you went through..."

Bucky takes your hand, kissing your palm. “I mean it. And I meant it when I said I want you to be my wife...”

You smile. "Let's see how this gingerbread turns out first. You may change your mind..."

Bucky chuckles, rolling his eyes.

--- --- ---

The entire house is filled with the smell of gingerbread. A warm feeling enrobes the air, reminding you of Christmastime. You both curl up on the couch, eating a few slices with milk.

"You're clearly wifey material," Bucky chimes.

You raise an eyebrow. "Where did you hear that term..."

Bucky stares at you. "Sam."

You chuckle, shaking your head.

"No, but seriously... This has got to be one of the best desserts I've ever had."

You roll your eyes. "...Don't exaggerate, Bucky."

“I'm not! It's the loveliest thing I've ever tasted because the loveliest person made it for me."

You fiddle with a few gingerbread crumbs on your plate, blushing.

Bucky smiles to himself. "I remember one of my buddies used to have these all the time in his box lunch. He’d brag all the time to us that his wife made it for him... I can’t believe I had to wait nearly 90 years for my wife to make me some...”

You clench your jaw. “But I'm not your wife, Buckyy... I love you and I can see myself spending the rest of my life with you. But I don't think I'm ready just yet."

He gives you a soft smile. “No rush, doll... I believe I waited my whole life to meet you... It'd be an honor for me to wait a little longer..."

--- --- ---

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