#but you need to stop and think and use your brain for one second

[hxney-lemcn]

Late Night Chaos — Daisuke x gn! reader

summery: getting a much needed break, you find yourself getting scolded by Jimmy. you vent to Daisuke about it when he finally finishes his tasks.

tw: Jimmy 🤢

a/n: idk how to continue this, should I follow the event of the game (unbearable angst), or try and make it end happier?? If I do the second one I kinda feel like I'm ruining the point of the game tho...

wc: 1.4k

Master List

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six

You had started to regret your confession already. You thought confessing was supposed to fix everything, so why did your gooey, icky feelings grow ten times worse? It was honestly comical seeing you glower everytime Daisuke gave you an ounce of affection. It even made Swansea internally chuckle at the sight. Even though it seems you were regretting all your life actions, you were honestly just trying to get used to your heart fluttering and your stomach twisting into knots. It was all odd and new, and you were a bit scared that this was all too good to be true. 

You were also trying to get used to the disgusting, adoring thoughts. You had become a lovesick fool and you weren’t sure what to make of it. You wanted to hug Daisuke? Ew. You wished to cuddle him at night? Disgusting. God forbid, you wanted to kiss him? Toss yourself in the trash. Yeah…you were struggling to accept that thinking those things were okay, and being vulnerable enough to speak your wants aloud. Daisuke, on the other hand, seemed like everything was right as rain. Like loving you came naturally to him. It made your skin crawl. 

Tilting your head back, you let the warm water drown your thoughts. Your brain wouldn’t let you catch a break, couldn’t you think about something else for a second? Like that book you’ve been reading? When you brought it with you it had been all the rage, but you can’t understand the hype. Sure you were only halfway done, but the main love interest was the worst person ever, how could anyone get behind him? He literally threatens to kill the protags family, basically kidnaps her, and you’re assuming she's going to ‘find the good in him’ and they ‘live happily ever after’. Unfortunately, you had to tough it out as you could only bring so many books for entertainment. Hopefully they turn the plot around and prove you wrong. Perhaps the protag actually fights back somehow or tricks the guy into thinking she’s fallen for him only to stab him in the back. Now that? You could get behind. 

Yeah, you need to finish that, you’ve been so preoccupied with work and Daisuke you haven't had much time for yourself. Shutting the water off, you dried yourself off and put on casual clothes. You’d finished your chores early, giving you a much needed break. Walking towards the sleeping quarters, you were simply minding your own business when a rude voice made you snap to attention. 

“The hell do you think you’re doing?” Jimmy’s harsh voice growled out. Looking to your right, you noticed it was only the two of you in the hall, and he was glaring right at you. You blinked in confusion, not able to get a word out before he continued. “Do you know how much more shit needs to be done? Of course Anya just lets you do whatever the hell you want, huh? Good for nothing brat. I gotta get everything done around here.” 

You couldn’t stop the sneer that settled over your face, gazing at the middle aged man with disgust. Who the hell does he think he is? You had spent the most of your trip ignoring the other, you thought it was a mutual avoidance thing. You had a feeling there wasn’t much for either of you to talk about, and he seemed standoffish anyways, but this? You hadn’t expected him to lash out at you. And for getting a break of all things. And wait, not even just that, he was blaming Anya too? 

You couldn’t even defend yourself before he stormed off, grumbling about something or another. Who the hell pissed in his cheerios? Well…okay, odd encounter. You did your best to shrug it off, continuing to your room, but something was bugging you. Just what exactly made him so aggravated? Not like you actually cared, he probably deserved whatever it was if he acts like that to someone he barely knows. 

Whatever, you have a book that needs to be finished. That’s all that mattered at the moment.

…

You had become so engrossed in the story, you nearly missed the knock on your door. Glancing up, you shouted a quick come in, not wanting to lose your place. You were so close to finishing already, and the plot had picked up from where you left off. It wasn’t as bad as the start, the author had started as a cliche and averted the readers expectations, slowly turning the story into a revenge plot. Chefs kiss, seven out of ten so far, and if the ending was as good as everyone said it was, then perhaps that rating will go up.

Daisuke joined you on the bed, head popping over your shoulder and eyeing the book, “Good book?”

“Mhm,” You nodded, setting it on your lap but keeping your place with your finger. Your skin tingled as he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him and resting his head on your shoulder. Your heart skipped a beat, but the fluttering in your stomach had dulled somewhat. That wasn’t a bad thing per say. Actually it brought you a sense of relief, you were growing used to his affection. Not taking it for granted or anything, but finding comfort in it instead of tension. To be fair, it was easier for you to accept it when it was just the two of you, no peering eyes of judgment to make you overthink your actions. Just the two of you enjoying the other’s presence. 

“You should read it to me, I like hearing your voice.” He murmured, nuzzling into your neck. Okay now he ruined it as it felt like sparks going off under your skin, heat crawling up your face, shoulders tensing in just the slightest. How could he say that so simply? Like it wasn’t a life changing statement? 

“O-okay,” You agreed, trying your hardest to keep your voice from wavering (and failing). Dog earring the page you left on (a crime, but you were too cheap to buy bookmarks), you turned to the first page, pausing before starting. “How was your day?” Sure, he had become more touchy after you officially started dating, but he seemed a bit more so at the moment.

“It was fine,” Daisuke shrugged, his warm breath heating your neck and causing your hair to stand on end. The fact that you were touch starved was clearly showing. “Keep messing up but that’s just normal.”

“I’m sure you’ll get it eventually,” You replied, reaching back and messing with his hair. You weren’t sure why you did it, it just seemed like the right thing to do, and the fact that he leaned into your touch seemed to validate that thought. “Being a mechanic isn’t easy, not to mention you do a lot of the electric work too.”

“Yeah,” He sighed, eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment. “How was yours?”

“Not too bad,” You replied, slowly melting into the brunette’s touch. “Got done early, but…well, I guess something happened.” Daisuke hummed, waiting for you to continue. “Jimmy exploded for no reason, going off about how he’s gotta do everything around the ship.”

“Huh?” Daisuke looked confused and annoyed, pulling away slightly to share a look with you. “What about the Captain or hell, even Swansea does a lot.”

“I know right!” You exclaimed, turning around in his arms slightly, dropping the book off to the side. “Not to mention Anya’s the only one holding us all together.” 

“Exactly,” Daisuke nodded enthusiastically. “Not to mention you do all the small stuff so the others can focus on their bigger tasks. Keeping the ship running smoothly and all that.”

“You too,” argued. “You’re learning a lot every day, and sure you may mess up from time to time, but at the end of the day you’re doing a lot. And you keep the ship from being a dull, boring routine of madness.”

His smile turned tender, squeezing you gently, “You’re right, without me you’d have no one to cuddle with.” 

Once again you found yourself scowling, “You say that like it's a necessity.” It seemed you and deflection went hand in hand. 

“I dunno,” He chuckled, lucky for you he found it adorable whenever you scrunch your face like that. “I’m not sure how I survived so long without you in my arms.” 

“You’re so cheesy,” You groaned, draping your entire weight on him, the both of you falling onto the bed. 

“And you love it.”

You hated that he was right.

[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 23

Jason Todd x (f)Chubby!Reader

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, will probably get NSFW later, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

warnings/labels: getting suggestive again, and dealing with trauma

wc: 2.3 k

Chapter Selection

“Are you sure you want to do this today, honey? You’ve already made a lot of progress today…” I frowned slightly. Jason was chewing on his lower lip, sitting in front of me on my bed. The lights were on, and he was in a tank top, showing me his arms.

He nodded slowly, reaching for my hand. “I want to do this. I just … need a second.”

I squeezed his hand, nodding. “Anything you want. … Do you know how much or how little you want me to react?”

“... No … Um … just your natural reaction, I guess? … Don't touch though. Not yet.”

I nodded, holding his hand in both of mine. “Ok. Whenever you're ready.”

He nodded, looking at our hands for a second before sliding his hand away, shakily taking his shirt off. I sat back, watching as he slowly revealed his muscular chest and stomach. He had a little bit of hair trailing from his belly button to the hem of his pants, and scars peppered his torso. Something short-circuited in my brain as he dropped his shirt to the side; a primal growl poured out of my throat and I slapped my hands over my face.

“... What on earth was that???” Jason squeaked, staring at me wide eyed.

“... I'm so sorry…” I hid my face against my knees, blushing bright red.

“... Did you seriously just growl??”

“Do you seriously look like that?!” I shot back, blushing bright red. “Oh my god, Jay… how the hell am I supposed to function now??”

He blushed bright red, grabbing his shirt again. “Is it that bad?”

“No!!” I held a hand up to stop him; “no, it's not bad! … Why would it be bad???”

He blushed more, gesturing to a thin, pink line down the center of his stomach. I followed it up his chest where it split between his pecs, frowning a little. I hadn't noticed it until he pointed it out. “... That is not at all what I thought we were talking about here.”

“What were you looking at??”

“The muscles??? … My love, do you not realize you are shaped like Hercules after the training montage?”

He blushed bright red, staring down at himself. His chest and stomach had dozens of more prominent scars, but he seemed fixated on the one in the center. “... I … guess?”

I groaned softly, flopping backward to lay down. “Mhhh, fuck … can we be Hercules and Megara for Halloween next year?”

He chuckled softly. “If you want. … It's really not that bad?”

 I looked up at him, biting my lower lip softly. “Mhh~ not bad in the slightest. … I think this is one of those things where it's more noticeable to you, because it bothers you, than it is to others.”

“... Oh…” he frowned a bit, staring at it more.

“... Why does it bother you so much?”

“... I'm a zombie …” he whispered sadly.

“... Oh….” I frowned, sitting up slowly, finally understanding. That was an autopsy scar. “... Can I have your hand?”

He nodded, holding it out to me. I stroked the palm gently. “Do you feel that?” He nodded, and I held his hand to my cheek. “Hm, … feels warm.” I pressed two fingers to his wrist. “And that's a pulse. Nope, I'm sorry sweetie, but I don't think you qualify as a zombie.”

He blushed a bit, chuckling weakly. “... I was brought back from the dead…”

“You're the classics nerd in the room; how many demi-gods, heroes, and men of myth have been resurrected?”

“... A lot.”

“Were they zombies after?”

“... No… not usually.”

“Then why are you any different?”

He blinked a bit, frowning. “... I'm not … I'm not like them.”

“No, you're better. You're right here in front of me.” I kissed his palm, stroking his forearm gently. “You're all mine, and I'm all yours.”

He nodded slowly, blushing brightly. “... Ok, … you … really like the muscles?”

“Ohhh baby, yessss~” I purred softly, already imagining getting my teeth on his pecs. “You have no idea the things I want to do with you~”

He blushed brightly, hesitantly grinning. A shocked chuckle slipped out of his mouth as he looked down at his chest again; “... Ok, … you can touch now.”

“I can??” I blushed brightly.

“If you want,” he smiled shyly at me.

I grinned, nodding. “Oh, I want. But do you want?”

He chuckled softly, stroking my cheek with his thumb. He slowly pulled me closer, whispering; “Why don't we start with this?”

I nodded, shifting closer, and he pulled me into a soft kiss. I rested my forearms on his shoulders, letting him lead for now, and he wrapped his arms around my waist. His thumbs caressed my sides, sliding under my shirt a bit as he pulled me closer. I sighed happily against his lips, letting one hand rest on his shoulder. The other slid into his hair, tugging gently.

Jason groaned softly, laying on his side and pulling me down next to him. I slowly let my hand trail down his chest, tracing the outline of his pec and down his abs. He breathed in deeply, squeezing my side a bit. “Ah~ d- doll~”

I grinned, kissing down his jaw. “That feel ok, pretty boy?~”

He shuddered, gasping; “Nguh… p- pretty?”

“Mhh-hm~ my pretty boy~” I purred softly, kissing his neck. I could feel his pulse racing under my lips as I slid my hand along his muscular chest.

His breath hitched as my fingers slid delicately over a bullet scar on his hip. “Ah … N- no one's ever called me pretty before…”

“Not to your face at least…” I purred softly, licking the soft spot where his jaw met his neck.

He gasped sharply, groaning softly. “O- ohhh fuck~ a- are you gonna eat me?”

“Mhhh, I might have to~” I gently nibbled on his Adam's apple, moaning softly; “you just look so tasty~ Is that ok?~”

He shuddered, pulling me so our chests pressed together. “Ahh~ fuck, ma~ … y- yeah~”

I chuckled softly, kissing down his throat to his collarbone. My fingers trailed across his chest, delighting in the way his muscles twitched and quivered under my touch. I watched his face as I kissed and licked more. He laid back and whimpered softly, squirming a bit as I explored his chest. I gently bit down on his nipple, reveling in the startled moan that poured from his lips.

“W- wait …” He covered his face, whining softly. I pulled back, gently stroking his side.

“Too much?”

He covered his eyes, taking a deep breath. “I … I want … Um …”

I nodded, stroking along his abs gently. “You can have anything you want, baby. You just say the word, and it's yours~”

He squeaked softly, peeking at me from between his fingers. “I wanna … make you feel good…”

I giggled softly, nodding. “How would you like to do that?”

He chewed on his lower lip, frowning a bit. “Um ... can … can I …”

He slowly pushed me to lay on my back, and I happily fell into the position he wanted. He leaned over me, kissing me gently, and I cupped his cheeks. His hands trailed down my sides to the hem of my shirt. “Can I … take this off?”

I nodded, shifting to help him slide it off. He moaned softly, fondling my soft tummy and kissing my chest. I groaned softly, gently tugging his hair. “Ah~ Jay~”

He moaned softly, kissing and nipping at my breasts. I whimpered and moaned, shivering. “Ohh fuck, Jason~”

He grinned, stroking my hips as he kissed down my chest. His lips finally met my tummy and he purred softly, squishing my soft curves between his hands as he pressed kisses all over me. I blushed bright red, shivering.

“Mhhh~ so soft~” he purred, pressing against me firmly.

I blushed bright red, shivering. “Ahh … y- you like that?”

“Love it~ you're so cozy and cuddly~ just wanna bury myself in your warmth and never come back out~ … love you so much, my sexy girl~”

I whimpered softly, blushing more. “Ahh~ I love you too~”

He sighed happily, kissing and nuzzling my tummy more, stroking my hips absentmindedly. I squirmed a bit under his touch, gently tugging his hair. We laid like that, his hands and lips exploring my chest and stomach, my hands in his hair, for what felt like hours, just enjoying each other’s touch.

After a while, my fingers slid down his neck and across his back. He shivered a bit as my ring finger slid against a divot in his skin; a small, oblong burn scar near his spine. Jason pulled back a bit, staring down at me with wide, far away eyes. His breath came in short, rapid pants, and I carefully moved my hands away.

“Jay? Baby, can you hear me?”

He shuddered, gasping softly, and slowly nodded.

“... Do you know where you are?”

“... 'm home … with you … we're in your room …” I nodded, carefully resting a hand against his. He fumbled to grasp my hand, squeezing tight. “... I … I can hear him …”

“... What do you hear, baby?”

He whined softly, his forehead falling against my chest. “... H- he's laughing … I … I can't …”

I frowned deeply, squeezing his hand firmly. “I'm here, baby. He can't hurt you anymore. I'm right here; you're in my home, you're safe…”

He gasped sharply, collapsing on top of me. “... Please …. Please, make it stop … I … I can't … I can't …”

I stroked the back of his head, holding him tight to my chest. “I'm here, Jason. Feel my heart beating?”

He grasped for me, crying softly, and slowly nodded. I took his hand, pressing it firmly to my chest, so he could feel my heart. “You are safe. You are here in my arms, and I won't let anything happen to you. I'm here. We're in my bedroom. It's almost dinner time. We're gonna order from that little Chinese restaurant on the corner. Nothing’s gonna harm you.”

He panted softly, slowly wrapping his arms around my waist. I held him tight, stroking his shoulders. “... Deep, slow breathes, baby. You can do it…”

Eventually, his breathing evened out a bit. “That's good. You're doing so well for me, baby~ … can you name five things you see?”

“... You. … Blanket … bookshelf … window… tree.”

I nodded. “Very good. Now four things you can touch?”

His hands slid across my back, trembling; “mhh … you … bed … pillow … my shirt.”

I nodded. “And now three things you can hear?”

“... Your voice … the heat kicking on … um …” he burrowed his face into my chest; “... I can't think of anything else…”

“Hmm … do you hear … the bird on the tree?” I pointed toward the window and he listened.

“... Yeah, ok, the bird…”

I nodded, kissing his forehead. “Very good. Now, how about two things you can smell?”

“... Your perfume.” He sighed happily, kissing above my heart. “... And … the laundry detergent on the blanket.”

I nodded, stroking his hair. “Well done, my love~ now something you can taste?”

He frowned, thinking. “... Um …” he looked up at me and slowly smiled, kissing me gently. “Mh~ your chapstick.”

I giggled softly, nodding. “Good one. You feeling a bit more stable now?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I'm stable. … I … I'm sorry, that was-”

“No, no sorries. You have nothing to apologize for.” I stroked his hair, kissing his forehead. “I’m sorry you got sucked back there like that.”

He snuggled against me, sighing softly. “... You didn't do anything wrong, doll. … I just … got stuck.”

I nodded, stroking his hair more. “I've got you, baby…”

He caressed my side, kissing my shoulder. “You take such good care'a me… I … I don't understand it.”

I held him close, “What do you mean, sweetie?”

“... I … I don't understand how you so effortlessly make space for my brokenness. … We were having fun, and then my past got in the way … And you aren't mad. … You see my sharp edges and accept them without even a moment's hesitation, like you're not afraid to be cut… I don't understand how you're so strong … You do it for Damian too, you know. … We're both so used to being people's projects. Just … things that need to be fixed. We're dangerous. We hurt those around us, like … ice in your lungs, and fire licking your heels, …. We are death made flesh …And you embrace us without reservation. … Don't you realize, there are monsters in our shadows? Don't you hear them howling, determined to consume everything in their path? … Your gentleness will make you their first target. The monsters will make puppets of us, they always do eventually, and they will feast on your flesh.... You are so clever, surely you know, if you don't flee, someday soon my monsters will eat us both alive...”

He sniffled softly, arms and legs entangled with mine, as if he was afraid I might agree and run screaming. I stroked his hair more, holding him close. “... You're not the only one with monsters, my love. … My monsters scream for blood; they cannot fathom how anyone who loves you could know what you've been through and just … let it be. … They want vengeance, and they make it sound so easy … I … I want to make you safe. I want to fight whatever darkness tries to sink its claws into you, … I want to make it bleed…”

He blinked slowly, pulling me closer. “... Y- you have to promise me you won't do anything stupid … I need you to be safe.”

I nodded, cupping his cheek. “I promise, nothing stupid. As long as you promise to always come home to me.”

He nodded, pressing desperate kisses to my lips. “Promise. Always gonna come home to you, princess~”

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

Taglist (open):

@jawdropforkpop @krys0210 @snowy-violet @superthoughts @wordsfromshona @mystic60 @iwannabealocalcryptid @morstuavitamea-a @frosty--giants @arisa191 @prized-jules @phoenix666stuff @dinonuggysandhuggus @anuttellaa @whore-of-many-hot-men @cottage-worm @v1ckycheesue @roastyyytoastyyy

[365granitegirlx]

⋆☀︎｡Smile Back ... At Me ⏾⋆.˚

Grumpy!Vessel x Sunshine!Reader

grumpy/sunshine, sickfic, housemates, fem!reader, hurt/comfort, fluff goes smut

a/n: there's easter eggs in here for three people 🧍🏻‍♀️

Taglist (that I decided I have now): @inv3ga

“No no no. Don’t do this. Please. Please!” Vessel was distraught. Panicked. Verging on crisis. He stared at himself in the mirror, white knuckling the vanity. “Get it together, Ves. Don’t…don’t.” His breath was ragged…”fuuuuuck...”

How many sneezes in a row was that? 5? Oh…oh they’re still going. You knock on the bathroom door softly. Vessel rips the door open with a scowl, his nose and eyes red from whatever irritant deigned to infect your intrepid workaholic housemate. 

“What?” He asks, deadpan.

“I heard you sneeze like…8 times in a row. That’s concerning.”

“Yes. Thank you, doctor. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get cleaned up and go to work.” He looks you up and down. “Think you ought to do the same?”

You look down for a second at your pjs and gasp. Work? “Oh shit! I…hey… wait a minute!” Vessel just titters as he splashes some water on his face. “It’s my day off!” Again, he chuckles and pushes past you. “You know for someone so crotchety with me you sure know a lot about my schedule!” But he’s already down the hall. Of the housemates, Ves was the one you had the least positive interactions with…and yet…you saw each other the most. It just worked out that way with your schedules. Ves could go to the studio or work from home at will, and you seemed always to be home at the same time. 

“You’ve done this on purpose. To torment me.” Ves said once as his phone buzzed incessantly with notifications as you input your schedule in the shared housemate calendar. And, in your endlessly witty, carefree way, you responded “Aw Ves, finally you’re noticing all I do for you!” For the record, Vessel doesn’t hate you. He doesn’t really hate anyone. No. He’s just a little brusque. And short tempered. And he just likes things done a certain way, ok? You, on the other hand, seem too happy to be here. What are you plotting, he wonders sometimes. 

But today those thoughts are dulled by a throbbing pain behind his eye and the annoying feeling of his nose leaking at any moment. By 2:30, he’s ready for a 20 year long nap. He rubs his face in agony as he sits at the control panel. Usually the studio is a reprieve but one of his worst nightmares is unfolding. He’s sick. He has a cold. A sinus infection? Christ…the flu? He has to push through. He has to see this day to the end and finish this…”fuck it I’m done. I’m going home.”

“Literally just asked how the cymbals sounded, man. For fuck’s sake.” Even poor ii wasn’t safe from Vessel’s sick tirade. The two share a silent look of “the hell is wrong with you/me?” 

“Sorry mate,” Vessel rubs his temples and sniffs. “Uhm…yeah…there could be more…definition or whatever. I’ll see you lot later.” Vessel sulks out of the studio and towards the bus stop. If this was a comic strip, he’d be kicking a can with little fumes over his head. Vessel hates getting sick. It throws off his groove. Makes him unproductive. He’s no stranger to powering through but it doesn’t seem worth it this time around. This makes him feel weak. Like once he gets better he’ll need to work 10x harder just to make up for his time off. Make it up for who? Well…the label, for one thing. And ii. Part of his brain says “it’s only for yourself,” but he pushes that aside. Yeah he’s proud but he still needs to prove to everyone else he’s fine. He can manage. Hasn’t he always landed on his feet? Looking out the bus window at the passing houses and buildings doesn’t provide any distraction—just more fodder for his migraine. As Vessel rests his temple against the window, his phone vibrates, but he ignores it. Whatever it is couldn’t make him feel any worse...oh but he was wrong. So very wrong.

You: I’m sure you saw this on the calendar but it’s just us for the weekend. Are you still feeling sick? Want me to get some soup? Let me know. :)

You’re not surprised Vessel doesn’t reply to you. He’s at work and, well, you’re you. As you’re about to text him again, because you reaaaaalllllly want to get a jump on ordering food, he comes through the front door. “Tsk, you look miserable.”

Vessel so badly wants to be snarky. To tell you what an astute observation you’ve made. “I am…where is everyone?” You look at him a bit quizzically and tell you texted him…and that their trip was on the calendar, etc etc. Oh the defeated sigh he lets out! The misery of being cooped up with someone so chronically pleasant might do his head in if this migraine doesn’t first. And maybe it wasn’t your best idea to follow him to his room to ask if he needed or wanted anything, if he was hungry, did he have a fever, can you do— “Have you considered leaving me alone? You’re not my mum and you’re definitely not my girlfriend! Can take care of myself just fine without you flitting about trying to fix everyone’s problems…maybe you should...” He stops himself and rubs his hand down his face with a heavy sigh. “Fuck it. It’s not worth what little energy I have. Let me know what takeaway you’re thinking.” He shuts the door and leaves you in the hall. Was he suggesting that you spend more time on others than yourself? How dare he? How dare he be right and sound mean about it. But you don’t pout long because he opens the door again, but this time his shirt is off. Your eyes trace the curve of his shoulders…down to the ridges of his chest and abs. Close enough to touch. ‘Stop…he’s sick. And your roommate.’ He sniffs hard. He’s so stopped up. “I…should not be like that. I’m sorry. Pizza?” You look away, feeling shitty after overstepping…he must be really sick if you got an immediate apology. 

“Don’t you think something like soup or…you know what? We’ll do whatever you want.” That elicits a soft smile from him...with teeth no less.. Wait…”you just smiled at me. An honest to god smile...Ves…”

“Oh, sh-shut up.”

After dinner Vessel feels…weird. His head and body hurts…he can’t even think straight. And you notice. He can barely stay awake but there’s no way he’d be comfy on the couch. His long legs…you imagine him trying to curl up and get comfortable like a big dog on a tiny bed. You take a chance and put your hand on his shoulder. “Let me help you get in bed.” He sighs heavily like you asked him to give up music. “Is it really this hard to accept some kindness?” Apparently that was a shit question because he huffs and takes himself to bed. Fine. Maybe you should leave it alone but damnit he needs help…and attention. You come into his room with your arms full.

“What are you…” But you cut him off by dumping a big blue quilt on him.

“I always always always sweat shit out with this quilt.”

“I don’t have a fever.”

“Oh well, it’ll make you feel better. And…alsooooooo…” you hand him a stuffed puppy with floppy ears and a dumb, goofy look stitched on his face. “Just give him a squeeze.” Vessel looks at the stuffed dog and the quilt but can’t seem to look at you. If anything he’s looking down and past your feet.

“As persistent as my cold, you know that?” 

“You deserve a break. Let me know if you need something…you know where I am.”

“H-hey…wait…” You look back at him, and it’s as if he’s forgotten how to breathe. Did he ever know in the first place? All he knows is that any breath he takes after this night is for something beyond the music. Beyond himself, even though his efforts there are questionable. “Sit with me…for a bit?”

And you did. All night. Waking up next to him hugging your stuffed dog under your “sick day” quilt was such a sight. His eyebrows knit together like he was thinking. It must have been a fever dream, you think, as he groans softly and clutches the dog closer. You want to reach out, move the hair off his brow, feel if he has a fever…caress him. But you have to at least act like you know better. When he blinks awake he gives a lazy smile.

“You shouldn’t have stayed in here. What if you get sick?”

“I could deal.”

“Hm. Maybe you’d accept some kindness in return?”

After his cold finally fucks off, Vessel looks at you differently. Not necessarily because you did something for him. No. There was something different. After he snapped at you, and then later after you two had a long conversation about nothing before he drifted off, Vessel noticed something behind your eyes. God, those eyes. His walls came down. He was defenseless. It’s not like you’re best friends now or anything, but he felt moved to treat you gently. Hell, to smile back at the very least. 

Late one night, long after everyone went to bed, Ves notices your bedroom light is still on. “What am I doing?” He whispers to himself, but apparently too loudly because soon you’re opening your door.

“Oh thank fuck it’s you. Thought I was hearing things.”

“Jus’ me…I…why are you up? It’s 1:30.” You shrug. There’s that look again. He has to dig. He has to pry just a little. Just like you had with him. “Can I come in?”

You nod and let him in, motioning for him to sit on the bed. He sees your laptop out and wants to ask what you were up to, but you quickly put it away. “Better question is why you’re awake, Ves.”

He smiles sheepishly and rubs the back of his neck. “So no one has a good excuse, hm?”

“Hm.” You tease back, gently pinching his arm. He looks down at your fingers on him and his heart flutters. Ves lets his gaze drift slowly up your body…taking in every curve and slight movement before resting on your eyes. 

“What’s wrong?”

“W-w-what…? What are y-?” You try to act nonchalant. 

“Can just tell…something’s off with you.”

You sigh heavily and look up at the ceiling. “This…” you put your hands out, “is actually my natural state. Tense. Not nearly as bubbly or…like”

“A sunshine girl?”

“Yeah or…a sunshine girl.” 

Vessel looks at you with a sympathetic smile…he can see that blush dusting your pretty cheeks. He  lets his hand rest on your shoulder, squeezing it slightly but then pausing. “You’re knotted up, love. Can I…?” Without even hearing your answer, he moves behind you and rubs your shoulders. It hurts a little, only because you’re so tense. His wide hands cover your shoulders and luxuriously knead into your muscles. “What’s made you so tight,” he rasps close to your ear, “Hm? What’s eating at you?” 

You can’t help it. Your head lolls back to his chest and turns so you can look up at him. “All I do is run around taking care of business and other people. I don’t know how to care about myself.”

He can’t stop himself. Brain shutting down. Hands and lips have a mind of their own now. “I’m not gonna sit here and let you run yourself into the ground like I did. You should care about yourself…I…I could teach you…” Vessel trails his nose up your neck and kisses your ear softly before you jump up. 

“Jesus, dude, you can’t just come in here and…” but fuck it he doesn’t look precious wiping his hand down his face and hiding the strain in his pants. “Oh…fuck… actually you totally can.” Immediately you’re straddling his lap, held in place by his soft hands cupping your face…pressing you desperately into his. His kisses trail hungrily down your jaw and to your neck. He finds your pulse point and claims it with his hot, open mouthed kisses. Your hips grind against him like it’s the most obvious thing in the world…but of course, he adjusted to press his strong thigh against you...you are supposed to do this. Suddenly your thoughts are poisoned with guilt as you realize how tightly you’re squeezing his thigh and how you weren’t being exactly quiet. Vessel gently guides your head down so he can whisper to you.

“I’d take you far away from here…anywhere you wanted…just to hear it…I want to hear what I can make you say…how loud I could make you…”

“V-v-es we-...“

“Shh shh shh. It’s ok. Do you want to stop?” His voice is warm and sincere, like he’s meant to take care of you.

“No.”

“Then let me do this…for you. Some comfort…” he turns slowly to lay you on your back, “would you like that…” his fingers gently trace your breasts and tummy over your shirt… “could make you feel good…safe”…your shorts and panties are thrown off the bed…”when was the last time someone did that for you, darling? Made you cum…just to cum?”…your shirt is lifted, tits exposed to the chilly room and his starving eyes.

“Never.”

“For fuck’s sake,” he murmurs as he kisses your thighs and settles on his tummy, “no pressure for me then.” But you’re moaning softly already. You’re a live wire as the hands you’ve desperately tried to avoid fantasizing about explore your inner thighs and folds. His finger glides up and down the length of your needy pussy as he looks up at you…pure bliss etched all over his face in the dim lighting. “Atta girl, love. We’re just here to feel good. Hm?” You hear and then feel a wad of his spit hit your clit, followed by his fingers pressing against either side of it. Vessel wraps his left arm around your tummy as your body chases his touch. “Found something you like, did I?”

“Vessel,” you whisper breathlessly but it’s cut off by a strangled moan. His tongue gently darts out for little kitten licks on your clit. You don’t know if your reactions or what he’s doing is making him whimper like that, but you don’t care. Your hand caresses his hair lazily until you have to grab it and keep him in place. He’s taken your clit in his mouth…something you’ve never experienced. Forgetting every wall you placed around yourself with this man, you let your hips grind shamelessly against his perfect mouth. Vessel’s moans and hot breath nearly push you over the edge multiple times. 

“I…” he exhales, trying to catch his breath and contain himself, “am really going to enjoy this.” His middle and ring finger work into your wet cunt and find your g-spot quickly.  “That’s it…that’s it…you feel that? Feel my fingers rubbing you from the inside, yeah?” You can’t respond directly…you’re too busy squirming and whimpering fuck fuck fuck. It feels like you’re on fire as Vessel licks and sucks at your clit, your eyes rolling as your brain tries to compute that the same spot is being stimulated from different angles. It’s too much. 

“I’m yours…I’m yours….please I’m yours.”

“Mine, yeah? Good. You sound s’perfect…haven’t even had my cock.” It’s a miracle that you aren’t screaming out loud now as he sucks at your clit. Both hands tangle in his hair when he starts thrusting his hips against your bed. He moans pathetically into your clit, his hips landing soft blows into the mattress. “I…I’m sorry.” He stops and quickly pulls off his clothes…you swear you’re cumming a little just from the sight of his cock alone. “See what you do to me?” He breathes heavily, standing at your bedside with his cock throbbing without contact. “Seeing you…let yourself go… enjoying yourself… so fucking hard for you. Could cum just licking you out, babe.” You’re tempted to tell him to try it…but you feel empty.

“Make me yours…”

“How would you have me?”

You’re speechless for a second…he’s really into this. Into you feeling good. “Get on your back, angel.” Vessel does as he’s told and blushes at the pet name. He teasingly rubs his cock against your slit…tells you how tight you felt around his fingers…how good you are for him. You moan quietly…weakly…dreamily as you slide down each inch of Vessel’s cock. The stretch is beyond perfect…not uncomfortable…but still more than any stupid toy in your bedside drawer could do. You grind against him and bounce on his cock seemingly without much thought other than feeling good. And he doesn’t stop you, nor does he grab you and fuck up into your pussy. No…he just lays back like a good boy and takes it. Luxuriates in the feeling of the warm stickiness of your pussy…how it hugs his cock and threatens to drain him. You wince a little as your hips tense; still you weren’t fully relaxed despite your blissful state. 

“I’ve got you.” Vessel pulls you close to his chest, pressing your hips down. “Just lay down on me. Let me feel you.” He moans softly as you lay out, your legs scissoring with his just enough to keep his cock buried deep. Your lips crash together. You taste yourself on him…his mouth…and your mind goes even fuzzier. “Sweet girl…you like being lovey, don’t you? Hm?” His hips snap up and press into your cunt. “Little lover girl??”

“I’m…fuck I’m yours Ves…I’m your girl…”

“Let’s make it real then…” his hips thrust back and forth again before pressing deep into you, holding his cock hard against the limit of your pussy…”I’ll fill you to the fucking brim with my cum…leave my handprints on your ass…and-“

“And I’ll leave…little love bites on your chest,” you add, trying to weigh in and stave off your climax. Vessel groans out in response and holds you in place like a toy as you suck and lick at his soft skin. So much for handprints on your ass, though; he can’t help but cradle your back and head. Neither of you have ever felt this before. The soft, warm middle of equal parts wholesome chemistry and earth shattering lust. What was that in the delicate in-between? You bury your face in his neck and forget the world…forget your name…it’s just him. 

“So tight…” He gently lifts your head. “There she is…mmm. Need to see you…need you to see what you do to me.” Vessel tangles his hand in your hair to help fix your gaze on him. His throat bobs with each broken moan…god he wants to cry out for you so badly. For the way your body melts into his as he rolls his hips up and into you. For the way your slick runs out all over him, making a mess of you both. It’s all too much. You press your forehead to his and bear your hips down. Vessel grabs you and presses his hot, greedy lips to yours not just for a kiss, but to muffle the pornographic noises your pussy rips out of him. The feeling of his tongue on your lips pushes you over the edge. Your fluttering orgasm squeezes and milks Vessel’s cock for all it’s worth, causing him to fuck up into you like a rabid animal. He completely and unapologetically ruins you.

You wake up the next morning curled up against his back. He’s already awake and smiles brightly when he feels you pull him close. 

“Guess what.” He whispers. You barely mumble “hm” back to him, still sleepy and fuzzy from your late night tryst. Vessel chuckles and rolls over, your stuffed whale shark from the aquarium clutched to his chest. 

“Hey! That’s mine,” you grumble.

“Oh and suddenly you don’t share anymore…hm? Not my lover girl when the sun’s up,” he teases. “Anyways…it’s just us this weekend. We have some wasted time to make up for…don’t you think?”

[ramhaiba]

𝖢𝗋𝗎𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀

Pairing- Yandere Bokuto x Reader MasterList

"But to Bokuto. It’s not just a crush, it’s love."

A/N- this is one of my drafts, so this is shorter than most of my work (might make a longer ver. of this fic in the future!)

Everyone knows Boktuo probably has a crush on you. The topic of Bokuto’s childish crush on you is spoken like taboo. There is a nonverbal agreement between the entire MSBY to refrain from acknowledging it because of its harmless yearning.

While Boktuo’s a great guy, the idea of getting into another workplace relationship sounds displeasing to you since your last one ended in a disaster, causing you to quit your job due to the uncomfortable work environment. 

That’s why you pray he doesn’t ask you to dinner or anything romantic related because the sight of a heartbroken Bokuto would haunt your dreams. But that is your future problem-At present, Bokuto seems to be ignorant of his feelings because if he did, he wouldn’t hesitate to show up to practice, a bouquet in his hands, confessing his attraction towards you. 

Thankfully in the present, Bokuto just thinks of you as a good friend- a good friend who he can’t get enough of, a good friend who he wants to spend all his time with. Sure- sometimes he gets a little moody when he catches you hanging around other people but that’s just a normal thing for good friends to feel right? Right?

He’s doing it again, he’s completely ignoring every responsibility he has so he can talk to you. The second you step into the gymnasium, he’s at your side so fast that you think he teleported. Bokuto would start blathering about the more random things, details about his day, his plans for the weekend, and family events. But he always complimented your appearance, regardless of whether you thought you looked like a mess. The conversation was getting too long.

You could see in the background that Atsumu was getting impatient, hands on his hips as his foot repeatedly tapped the ground.

A setter needs to train with their team. But Atsumu can’t exactly do that if his teammate is busy chatting up their manager. “Bokuto, that sounds really great but shouldn’t you get back to pratice?” you told Bokuto, trying to solve the issue. 

Boktuo tilted his head, a naive smile on his lips as he said “It’s fine, we can talk for five more minutes. Atsumu can wait.”

That was Atsumu's last straw, his eyebrows furrowing as his fingers curled into a fist at his side.

“Bokuto, could ya please stop flirting with your little girlfriend? Get yer ass back to the court, we have a game coming to prepare for” Atsumu huffed. You glance at Bokuto, noticing his dazed expression, it seems like gears in his brain are finally turning.

“Girl-friend?”Bokuto uttered in disbelief, his arms slumped forward. When his yellow eyes looked back at you, you noticed a slight blush crawling on his face, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he gulped.

“Bokuto-”

“I gotta pratice now, Y/n. Talk to you later” Bokuto interrupted, dashing back to the court. You looked at Atsumu, giving him the most pissed-off look because judging by Boktuo's sudden change in emotion- from happy-go-lucky to a bashful blushing ace, 

It looks like he finally realized why your friendship was so different from others.

But to Bokuto. It’s not just a crush, it’s love.

It’s all that stupid setter’s fault that Bokuto is acting all weird in front of you. The second pratice ends, you’re pulling Atsumu by his ear, dragging him to the locker room so you can curse at him.

“You just had to use the word ‘girlfriend.’ You ruined this whole thing, Miya” you shouted, cornering the blonde hair setter against a locker.

“Sorry- Sorry, c’mon it was in the heat of the moment” Atsumu huffed, averting his eyes in embarrassment. 

“God- I’m going to have to break that poor boy’s heart because of you” you sighed. “What’cha mean by that?” Atsumu asked.

“Well, knowing Bokuto- he’s probably going to ask me on a date. But I’ve kinda..sworn off of workplace romances permanently” you answered, the anger in your tone slowly fading.

Atsumu took a moment to think before opening his mouth,

“We can’t have him acting all heartbroken right now- a match is coming up and I seriously cannot set to a depressed Bokuto….So just make sure he can’t ask ya out then” Atsumu suggested.

“What do you mean by that” you questioned, unsure of what he was trying to get at. “Avoid him till this little crush burns out. If that doesn’t work, it won’t hurt to get a boyfriend, y’know?” Atsumu added.

You punched Atsumu’s arm for his last suggestion causing him to hiss.

 “You’re an asshole but avoiding him for a little while isn’t such a bad idea” you hummed. “Does that mean I’m forgiven” Atsumu huffed, rubbing his sore forearm. “For now” you replied.

—

Avoiding Bokuto was a lot harder than you expected it to be. When he attempted to greet you at practice, you’d straightforwardly tell him “ I have to go schedule the hotel reservations for the out-of-state game,” or you’d mention another responsibility you must fill. 

Either way, he would let out a noticeable pout every time you walked away, mumbling a weak “okay then.”

Then he’s trying to get your attention after practice, a nervous but excited expression on his face as he stands in front of you but you don’t let him utter a single word before reminding him that you have to go home quickly to do some laundry.

‘Laundry? Was laundry really more important than him?’

Bokuto wondered. He doesn’t understand why the love of his life is acting so strange. Maybe you’re not feeling well? Or you’re stressed.

Either way, Bokuto is showing up at your door, holding a gift basket, a big grin on his lips. 

“Bokuto? What's all of this” you asked, awkwardly as you opened the door for him.

“ Figured you’ve been stressed recently that’s why you’ve been acting so distant, so I made ya a little self-care basket.” Bokuto beamed, proudly holding the basket of assorted goods. Everything in that basket is expensive, you can tell by the popular brands of each bottle of lotion, candles, and sweets.

“ Thank you, Bokuto. But you didn’t have to do this” you responded, calmly as you carefully took the basket from his hand, trying your best not to come in contact with his fingertips.

“I don’t mind doing these things if it’s for you. I’m pretty sure I’d do anything for you” Bokuto laughed bashfully.

“ Well.. goodnight.” You mumbled, trying to close the door, but his foot interrupted its closing.

“ Actually, I was kinda meaning to ask you something”

Fuck- here it is, the moment you’ve been dreading.

“Y/n, after hearing what ‘Tsumu said on the court the other day, it kinda got me wondering about somethings” Bokuto commented, a bashful grin across his lips.

“W-what kind of things” you stuttered, trying to put up a fake smile as mentally you were dreading the worst.

“I think I wouldn’t mind- I wouldn’t at all mind being able to call you my girlfriend” Bokuto confessed.

Fuck- what do you do? He’ll be too upset to play for his match next week if you reject him. You’d be lying to him if you accepted his feelings and hurt him more when you admit the truth.

“Bokuto- I don’t think we should get into this conversation, it might distract you from your game that’s coming up” you suggested.

Bokuto leans his face closer to yours, only a centimeter apart causing your heart to race. “You look so nervous, Y/n” he pointed out, his fingers brushing over the apples of your cheeks.

 “And your cheeks… they feel so hot” he mumbled. “I-it’s nothing important, I’m fine You responded, swatting his hand away from your face, adverting your eyes from his unmoving glare. 

“At first I didn’t completely understand why you’ve been pushing me away, Y/n. But now I understand. It’s because you feel the same and you’re nervous about dating another co-worker. But I’m not like that guy, Y/n. I’d never treat you like trash. I’d never let you go” Bokuto confessed. He’s getting excited- too excited because he’s come up with a false reality where you’d reciprocated his feelings. 

“Bokuto, I’m sorry but I don’t- I don’t feel the same and I don’t think I ever will” you replied being forced to ruin his dream. His entire demeanor changes at your words. It was like a switch flipped in his brain. Once standing in front of you with a big grin now morphed into an emotionless expression, eyes dulling burning holes into you, fist clenched at his side.

“Are you saying I’m wrong?” Bokuto asked, trying to find out if he heard you correctly.

“I’m saying I don’t have romantic feelings for you, Bokuto. B-but I really cherish our friendship and I don’t mind still being friends after this” you responded. 

“I don’t want that. I don’t want to be friends” Bokuto commented, his hand curling over your doorframe, pushing himself into your apartment, every step he took forward caused you to walk backward.

“Bokuto, stop it- you’re scaring me,” you remarked, heart skipping as your back pressed against the wall. “I like you so much, Y/n. I really do and I think you could too. I just need to show you how good I can be to you-

For you”

[with-my-calamitous-love]

I’LL SPEND FOREVER WONDERIN’ IF YOU KNEW…

touya todoroki x reader

you first met touya in winter. similarly, you fell in love and said goodbye in winter. now when the snow falls, he thinks of you.

part 1/2

inspired by enchanted

there he was again, early morning. sekoto peak on a brisk, winter evening. just shy of 8 years old, with fire blazing valiantly.

around others, he’s used to forcing laughter and faking his smiles. he hides that inter turmoil well, determined to carry the mantel of endeavour’s firstborn son. but just because he carries it well, doesn’t mean it isn’t heavy.

he’s in this same old tired, lonely place. the trees act as walls on insincerity, isolating him on this hill. his flames are controlled, ignoring that slight pain he feels in his palms when the red and oranges shoot out from his hands. the winter chill helps to keep him cool. he doesn’t need a jacket, anyway.

the snow drowns out most noises, as do most winter days. but he still catches the sound of soft, padding footsteps crunching in the snow.

all of what he’s feeling vanishes when he sees your face.

its rare, seeing someone his age. two kids, shy and precocious in the middle of winter. he’s the first to speak.

“…what are you doing out here?”

“i could ask you the same thing.”

kids are brats.

he huffs, his breath visible in the contrast to the cool air. “well, i asked you first.”

“going for a walk.” you hum, moving closer to him. you take not of the several burns on the trees, black and withered.

you can’t help but notice his lack of a jacket, though he seems unbothered by it. you’re here, mittens, jacket and scarf keeping you warm, while he’s in nothing but a thin sweater. “aren’t you… y’know, cold?”

he smiles, proud. “no. i have my fire.”

and he’s proud to have it, even if it will inevitably kill him.

but you two are kids, and neither of you know that. in your childhood brains, the only thing that matters is whats in front or you. so you spend the rest of the day chatting, walking around the seemingly enchanted forest. snowball fights turn into snowmen, and eventually graduates into laying in the snow, making snow angels.

“i like winter.” you hum, staring up at the snow tricking onto your face. “most people hate it. they think its cold, and wet, and dark.”

touya stopped moving for a second. he hummed and considered your words. he had heard people he knew in the past speak like that, namely his younger siblings that craved warmth.

"maybe they just don’t like snow." he says quietly, shrugging while drawing random lines in the snow. "you like it, though?"

you nod.

“for all its coldness, theres tenderness in winter to. the sky is light and pink when it snows at night. its quiet, and still.”

theres a certain secrecy to this moment that he feels when he hears your words. childhood friendship is a precious thing, something you never get back. the heroes and the villains of the world don’t matter, and anything important is reserved for a later time. right now, blanketed by snow, touya made one true friend. how enchanted he was to meet you.

✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚

years pass, and you and touya are thrust into adolescence. his hair has changed, now a frosted white that matches the current season. you’re walking home from school together, though he’s got his hands shoved in his pocket like a little kid. not because he’s cold, but because he’s frustrated.

he’s taking his time, pacing back and forth. he almost doesn’t want to return home. thinking about it makes him clench his fists, the annoyance he felt quickly morphing into anger. when he’d come home, he’d be met with all that pain, all over again. the thought of his father focusing all his energy and attention on his little brother, all because touya wasn’t "good enough" to be his successor, was haunting. its what kept him up at night.

“it’s just not fair.” he mutters, and you instantly know what he’s referring to. “all that work… for what? he doesn’t even know i exist.”

words fail at times like this. you could tell him that its not true, but it is. you could tell him not to care, but he still will. you could tell him that you love him… but would he listen?

so instead, you opt to hold his hand. your fingers are cold against his naturally warm ones. you pretend not to notice the rough texture of his palms, evidence of his training.

the snow begins to trickle down again, falling like a crown on your head. tonight, you’re sparkling, and he doesn’t want to let you go. turquoise eyes look at you, wonderstruck as your nose begins to turn that winterish shade of pink. he almost blushes when he sees you tightening your scarf, forgetting he’s supposed to take you home.

“i just,” you sigh, taking both his hands in yours so you can both see the damage beginning to fester on his skin. “i don’t know. i don’t want you training too hard. it’s hurting you, i can tell.”

“i-its not.” he lies, breath visible in the winter air. he tries his best to hide the wince in his eye when you rub your thumbs up and down the burns on his hands.

“i just… i don’t wanna lose you.” you say.

he doesn’t wanna lose this either. you, and him, standing in the winter. he prays that this is the first page, that this is only the first of many winters he hopes to have with you.

“you won’t.” he smiles. “i promise.”

✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚

you learn about the accident not through the news, or through his family, but rather through seeing the eruption of blue flames on the hill where you two met.

at first, you cried every day. you prayed that he’d wake up, that this isn’t where the story line ends. seeing him laying there, as the years go on, and as the snow falls inevitably, felt unreal.

its been a lonely 3 years without his sassy remarks and his warm hands. you can still feel that warmth, even in his coma. you hold his hands as his body lays there, the only indicator of his survival the beeps of the heart monitor.

his burns are so much more apparent now almost purple against his pale, snowy skin. he doesn’t know it, but you’ve visited him everyday since he first arrived. through every summer, spring, autumn through every god damn winter, you’ve been here.

you’d whisper things he’d never hear, eyes occasionally wandering to the snow falling outside the winter. its a reminder of how much time has passed, how much you’ve lost without him.

and though you don’t know it, he’s mourning it as well. he’s forced to hold back his words, like he’s leaving too soon.

selfishly, he hopes that in these three years, you haven’t fallen in love with someone else. that you don’t have someone else waiting on you when you leave.

its the opposite, actually. you don’t have anyone waiting on you, when you’re waiting on touya to come back.

normally, you’re alone in his room. so you almost don’t catch when the door opens and closes behind you. at first, you think its just a nurse checking in. but the silence makes you turn your head.

shes got the same hair as touya, snowy white. but her eyes are this grey color that you can tell once sparkled. shes just as confused as you are, even when you stand up from your chair but still continue to hold touya’s hand.

“i-i.. sorry. i’m just visiting.” you say, like you’ve committed a crime. you haven’t done anything wrong.

she shakes her head, taking a few steps closer and assuring you its okay. the fact that you’re so close to her son, holding his hand isn’t lost on her.

theres words she wants to say as well, words that fall on deaf ears. you wonder why its only her visiting.

“i’m sorry, dear.. who are you?” she brakes the silence, realizing she isn’t actually sure who you are. how would she know anyway?

“i’m his friend.” you say, quietly. “[y/n].”

she nods, though she wonders how she didn’t know that. her first son, the first love of her life, had a friend close enough to visit and hold his hand even through this period of winter.

if anything, she’s grateful for it.

theres a few more beats of silence, before she speaks again. her voice is quiet, but her pain speaks volumes.

“i tried to stop him.” she says, staring at her son. “i… i didn’t want this.”

its enough to bring tears to your eyes, nodding understandably. “me too.”

and theres that moment of understanding between the two of you. like snowflakes falling onto the same patch of ground, you both knew that this was inevitable. eventually, touya’s fire would consume him. eventually, he’d burn too.

theres nothing you two can say to make this better. so you sit there in comfort, winter silence before eventually saying goodnight.

you leave, quietly accepting that you’ll be all alone.

and the next day, he wakes up.

[polskasroka]

EPIC thoughts after The Vengeance Saga aka my problems with how logic gets shattered in this saga

600 Strike depicts Odysseus as Athena wanted him to be at the very start. She wanted him to kill the cyclops, and he didn't do it because of his hubris and alleged mercy. Now he has no mercy.

Thereby, Athena's character arc stops making sense in regards to what is presented in The Venegance Saga. She's found the power of friendship with Telemachus, abandoning the "I'm not looking for a friend" mentality that led her in her anger. She uses said power of friendship and, in fact, asks Zeus for mercy for Odysseus. To win his game, she used her own wit and wisdom, the Goddess of Wisdom she is. However, "you rely on wit" stops being applicable to Odysseus. The wit, the trait he's best-known for, his most trusted weapon, is no longer of use against Poseidon. It's ruthlessness. It's the lack of mercy towards the other that he uses when arguments fail him. Poseidon has literally taught Odysseus a more important lesson than Athena.

And put your whole brain in it Remember every trick in your domain for this Odysseus' domain is mind, his wit. While he uses that with avoiding Charybdis, he doesn't do so during the confrontation with Poseidon. You'll need a mindset change for this I suppose he did change his mindset, as he says, I'm gonna use ruthlessness Every trick, every skill put to use for this I plan to put an end to all the foolishness I have to get home, put it all on the line I'll be dangerous

The second wind bag ex machina. One with Poseidon's storm. One that he gets defeated with. What. Then, Odysseus uses his trident against him. What x2. Why doesn't he defend himself? Why won't he try to fight back? Why would an immortal beg a mortal for mercy?

Also, it's said that Odysseus opened the wind bag to beat Poseidon. And then it's 600 Strike. So like. Odysseus has beaten him with the storm or with the power of his lost comraders OR both? Or am I not getting something?

OOC Poseidon asking Odysseus how he's gonna sleep at night. I'd rather expect Poseidon to laugh and tell Odysseus that he's finally learnt his lesson.

You can't tell me that Poseidon, being the pettiest bitch out there (love him for that), would NOT drown Ithaca after what Odysseus did to him. He'd damn make him watch and get in that damn water. He would get his revenge.

I generally think that what killed the logic was abandoning the source material too much, a problem that many modern media have. See, Charybdis being in the Vengeance saga fits well, it's just in the different part of Odysseus' journey. But there's no Odysseus beating up Poseidon's ass in The Odyssey. The Phaecians would've worked so well instead of the ordeal with Poseidon in The Vengeance Saga.

Also some nitpicking: 'Cause no mortal can pass Poseidon's storm Does this mean that whenever there's a storm at the sea, literally no ships can pass? It's not that every storm is inpenetrable. And if those inpenetrable ones are caused by Poseidon, who causes the penetrable ones?

Thank you for coming to my TED talk

[skoulsons]

“Joel was wrong it should be Ellie’s choice”

Yeah, it should be Ellie’s choice. Because she’s a child and this is everything her journey has been building up to. She should know all the risks that could come with and what it ACTUALLY (apparently, considering they did no scans or nothing???) takes to make a cure. She should be told everything. But if they kept her alive, she’d probably ask questions that the fireflies would not be willing (or able) to answer, hence keeping her under and not telling her. They were scared. They didn’t know what the hell they were doing

But think, for a second, that he’s the not the one who ‘took it away’ in the first place. The fireflies took Ellie and knocked Joel out. They did not tell her what this would entail. They got her under, somehow, and had no intention of waking her up again. They took away her choice and any agency she had WAY before Joel did. They were going to murder her in cold blood with NO certainties

Is what Joel did morally wrong? Yeah, I mean he killed a ton of people, that’s terrible no matter what way you slice it

But that is his child. I have little kids in my life that I love more than I can comprehend. You know what I’d do if their life was on the line like that? Whatever I had to to save their lives. You expect Joel to just sit there and say “yeah, go on ahead”??? Joel would not do that, not after what they’ve gone through and what they’ve become. He wouldn’t do it because he is a father. Because his child means more to him than some world that’s already twenty years deep into the infection. He loves her more than a world full of raiders, slavers, and cannibals that a cure couldn’t change the ways of

Marlene wouldn’t have compromised with him. He wouldn’t have compromised with Marlene unless they woke Ellie up and were able to run scans and things and Ellie agreed to let them do things that would NOT kill her. But that’s not how it went, so it came down to the extreme. Kill them all to save her. And really, you can’t blame him

[4giorno]

wow i finally continued the re4 remake and yeah i got through the part i was stuck on but also in the chapter summary i saw i had died only 7 times even tho i felt like it had been like 15. goes to show that yea i rlly lose patience to even try if i dont get something right immediately

[random-thot-generator]

Ghost decides after one blind date that you're going to be his.

>>>>>

Simon isn't used to dating. A quick hook up in the loo, sure. A drunken one night stand? He's had too many of those to count. But proper courting? Hell, it's been years, maybe a decade, since he's taken a bird out on an actual date.

It's probably going to be a disaster, but he gave Johnny his word he'd go out with his bird's best friend, so he can't back out now. He'll just have to grit his teeth and power through it.

His sour outlook for the evening is forgotten the second he sees you walk in with Johnny's bird. You're no tipsy tart on the pull, like the birds he's used to dealing with. You're a proper lady, dolled up nice for your date with him. It makes his chest feel tight when he gets a good look at your pretty face and nervous little smile.

His usual gruff manner is obviously not going to fly with you, so he quickly tries to recall the mannerisms he's seen his captain use around women. He gets to his feet with Johnny when the two of you reach the table, trying his best to look less intimidating.

Johnny introduces the two of you, and Simon melts inside when he takes your soft little hand in his for the first time. His brain goes fuzzy, dark eyes glazing over, and he's not sure what he says when he greets you, but it earns him a smile.

"It's really nice to meet you, Simon," are the first words you say to him.

Your voice is soft and sweet, and the way you say his name? Oh, he's gonna need to hear more of that, and often.

For the first time in a long time, Simon's worried about what someone thinks of him. He's worried he'll put you off with his harsh manner. So, he minds his words and gentles his tone. He slows his steps to match your pace and tucks your small hand at his elbow to keep you close and safe. He's holding doors and pulling out your chair. He compliments your dress and hair.

And when your heel catches on the sidewalk and you stumble, he doesn't bark a laugh or say something mean, wouldn't bloody dream of it. No, he catches you before you fall, and all that softness in his hands makes something shift in his brain. You're such a fragile little thing, delicate as spun sugar. You need a big nasty mutt like him to protect you, take care of you, and he's more than willing to do the job.

When the date is over, Simon sees you home, and you kiss him on your front stoop. It's not all groping hands and tangling tongues. It's a gentle press of lips, his big hands cradling your face, the sweet intimacy making his eyes flutter shut. He's floating when he finally gets back in his truck and drives himself home.

Instead of going to bed, Simon begins to formulate a plan of strategy. He figures it'll take a few more dates before you invite him into your flat, and several more after that before you invite him into your bed, then eventually into your life. It might take months, even a year or more. That's alright, though. If his years in the military have taught him anything, it's patience.

Simon knows how to play the long game. He'll go at your pace, let you get used to having him around, then make himself indispensable to you. No one will treat you as good, meet your every need and desire the way he will. He won't stop until he is your world, your reason for being. Your everything.

And when enough time has passed, he'll claim you completely as his. He's going to put a ring on your finger and a baby in your belly, then tuck you away safe and sound in one of those cute country cottages he looked up online. You'll be his little missus, and he'll be your tamed beast, keeping his teeth and claws hidden but at the ready.

By the time he arrives at your flat the next evening for your second date, he's already got your engagement ring in his safe at home and the names of your future children picked out.

And when you text him the day after to invite him for dinner, the new name he replaced yours with pops up on his screen.

It says 'Missus Riley', of course.

-

[whateveriwant]

Good evening, I can't stop thinking about Simon going brain dead as he fucks you :)

Like, just imagine. You're on your elbows and knees as Simon's hitting it from behind, when suddenly you feel something wet land on your back. You know it's not him finishing given the fact that he's still buried deep inside you, so you look back over your shoulder to see what the hell that was you just felt.

And when you turn around, the sight that greets you is one for the ages. There's Simon, eyes unfocused and glazed over, mouth hanging wide open in the most fucked-out expression you've ever witnessed. He looks like he's never had an intelligent thought in his life; like he's been reverted back to a primitive brain, whose only drives are to eat, breathe, and fuck.

As you watch him rut into you like a sex-crazed animal, it's then you spy the source of the mystery liquid dripping onto your back. There, dribbling steadily from Simon's ajar mouth, flows a thick stream of drool. It leads down from his bottom lip in long, viscous ribbons, landing and settling itself along the curve of your spine. If he even notices (which, by the look on his face, he's too far gone for such higher-order thinking processes) then he doesn't care. He just lets his spit pour freely from his open mouth, like some kind of wild beast that's got its eyes locked onto its next meal.

Simon is so mentally checked out that he can't even hear you as you gently say his name. No, all he can think about – all his shriveled little monkey brain can focus on at this moment – is how fucking good you feel around him and how fucking badly he needs to fill you up.

When Simon does finally cum, he can only manage a garbled string of grunts and groans that doesn't even come close to resembling human speech. After three, four, five thrusts as deep into you as possible, his whole body is shaking, and his trembling limbs give out.

He collapses on top of you without a second's consideration of his size, pinning you to the mattress beneath his warm, heavy frame. You can still feel him drooling a little as his face comes to rest in the crook of your neck, the mess on your lower back getting smeared between your bodies.

It's hard for you to breathe being trapped under Simon's weight like that, so you try lightly tapping him on the head to ask him to roll off you. Unfortunately, I'm afraid it's no use trying to gain his attention right now. You're going to have to give him a few minutes to collect himself, love.

The poor guy just fucked himself stupid, after all.

[gloomwitchwrites]

141 with a partner who likes to bite

Okay, anon. I'll be honest. When I read this prompt, I immediately thought of "cute aggression." Not sure if that is what you meant or if you meant something else, but that's what I went with. Kinda. There are some more suggestive undertones in a few of these. I had a lot of fun with this one. Thank you so much for sending it in!

Presented in four double drabbles.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Reader (can be read as gn!reader)

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, biting, cute aggression, established relationship, teasing, flirting, suggestive themes

Word Count: 800

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

"Are you teething?” asks John. “Do I need to get you a pacifier?"

John sounds annoyed, but you know that he isn’t. Not really. He happily puts up with your shenanigans.

"Can't help it,” you reply, showing your teeth. “You're too tempting."

The two of you are curled up in bed. He’s trying to read. And you’re trying to annoy him. When John is shirtless and reclined in bed, you have a clear view of his muscles. The temptation is always there, and it’s a pull you can’t resist. The aggression isn’t violent. It’s just overwhelming.

Clearly not liking your answer, John grunts. He tosses his book aside, uncaring of losing his place. One moment you’re next to him, and the next you’re fully on your back, trapped beneath his weight.

Giggling, you playfully shove at him, but there is no intention to escape from him. It’s not like you could break out of his grasp if you tried. He is warm and taut. A weighted blanket. This is what you wanted all along. To be beneath him.

"Stop."

He nips at your throat.

"Fucking."

Then he nips at your shoulder.

"Biting."

Finally, John nips at your upper arm.

"Me."

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

"Someone's going to think you're abusing me."

You grimace, even though Kyle’s tone is teasing and not at all upset. His arm and neck are peppered with small teeth marks. Most of them look like random little indents in the skin while others appear to be in the beginnings of bruising.

“I might have used excessive force,” you murmur, thumbing one of the marks.

Sometimes you can’t help yourself. The need to do it is overwhelming. Most times, you shake it off.

Kyle grins. “I like them. They’re little reminders.”

You laugh. “Oh yeah? Reminders of what?”

Kyle leans in, hand sliding up your back to grasp the nape of your neck. Pulling you close, Kyle lowers his voice. It’s all sultry smoothness.

"Of how many times I can make you come,” he coos.

“Kyle!” You lightly smack his chest, face heating as his gaze softens.

He shrugs. “You also just like to bite me.”

“Can’t help it,” you mutter.

“You’re like one of those small dogs,” he teases.

You roll your eyes. “Don’t you dare,” you scold.

“Adorable. Sweet at first glance.”

“Kyle.”

“Mean bite.”

“I swear to God, Kyle.”

“A—”

You place your hand over his mouth.

John "Soap" MacTavish

With Johnny as your bed, you spread yourself over him, head resting against his right pectoral. A rugby game is on. Johnny’s completely focused on the television as the two teams move about the field like small insects.

Johnny’s large, muscled arms are draped over your back, but his left bicep is dangerously close to your face. Every vein is pronounced. Tempting. You want to trace them with your tongue.

A naughty little urge creeps in. Makes itself known. Slithers around your brain to whisper that you should.

What’s one little bite?

It won’t hurt.

Like an itch that needs to be scratched, you lean forward, lightly chomping down on Johnny’s arm. The urge settles, the neurons in your brain content and happy.

Startled, Johnny jerks. Then, he laughs, arms tightening around you.

One second, you’re in full cuteness aggression. The next, Johnny is rolling you over, trapping you beneath him against the couch. Instead of you biting him, it’s Johnny biting you.

You shriek playfully, but he continues to nibble.

“Let me go,” you laugh. Smacking at him does nothing.

“You little goblin,” he mutters, dragging you off the couch and hauling you toward the bedroom, rugby match forgotten.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon wears only a thin, black shirt, leaving his arms bare. Your mouth waters at the sight of the protruding veins and taut muscles. The urge to touch and taste is overwhelming. It burns bright and hot beneath your skin.

"What are you looking at?" asks Simon without looking away from the menu board on the far wall.

“Nothing,” you reply instantly, glancing away like you weren’t thinking about his muscles.

A few seconds pass, and then you slip an arm between his, clinging to Simon. He doesn’t react. The menu board has his full attention. Simon is more worried about filling his stomach.

Turning your face into his arm, the urge to bite down—to unleash the aggression—wells inside you like a tsunami. At first, you resist, reminding yourself that you are in public and this behavior is inappropriate.

But you lose.

Your mouth starts to open, teeth poised to lightly bite.

“My arm isn’t a chew toy,” says Simon out of the corner of his mouth.

"I didn't bite," you mutter.

Simon slips his arm out of your grasp and then drapes it over your shoulders.

He leans in close. "You can bite me all over later."

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[zephyrchama]

Water Wrinkles

Seven demon brothers sat solemnly in a circle around you. You did your best to ignore them. It wasn't often that you got to spend time at the human world villa, and you were intent on soaking up as much sun as you could before returning to the Devildom.

You reclined your beach chair back, crossing your arms under your still-wet hair. It was a gorgeous day. Perfect for being at the pool.

Leviathan let out a muffled sob. As the demon with the highest affinity for water, he blamed himself.

"Let us take you to a hospital," Satan insisted for the tenth time.

"They're going to laugh us out of the ER," you nonchalantly repeated.

Satan lowered his eyes and muttered, "I couldn't find any traces of a curse in the water... So how...?"

Asmodeus had his head in his hands, unresponsive. Sometimes his fingers curled around the ends of his hair. You briefly glanced over to make sure he didn't pull his hair out - that would be grounds for a real emergency.

"I can't bear to watch. Lucifer, do somethin'," Mammon whined. He was fidgeting all over the place and winced whenever he looked at your feet.

The oldest glared at you. You knew it was out of concern, but his fears were unfounded. Even Lucifer refused to listen to reason when he thought you were in danger.

"Actually, yeah. Lucifer, can you pass me a towel?" you asked. It was embarrassing having seven shirtless demons intensely staring at you. If they wouldn't let you go back in the water, maybe covering up would make you feel less self-conscious.

Lucifer didn't move. It was Beelzebub who plucked a spare towel off his younger twin and handed it to you with a shaking arm. He looked like a wet puppy, having been the one who first discovered your "condition" and swept you out of the pool.

Belphegor hadn't gone in the water that day. He only hogged the plush towels because of how comfortable they were and, following Beelzebub's lead, dumped them all onto your chair. Now he sat, wide awake. He was anxiously squeezing a loose chunk of concrete but at some point, without realizing, it got crushed to powder in his hand.

You had more than enough towels now.

"In half an hour you're going to forget this all even happened," you said to reassure the worry warts.

"In half an hour, you might be gone!" Mammon snapped back.

"You're going to be a wrinkled mess of skin and bones," Asmodeus weeped quietly.

Leviathan pressed his hands over his ears. Though, with nothing to cover his eyes he was forced to look at your wrinkled hands again. Based on the noises he was making, you'd think someone was torturing him.

"As I've said!" you reiterated. "All humans get wrinkly in water. Look, now that I'm drying off it's going back to normal."

Beelzebub grabbed your ankle, raising it for the brothers to observe at eye level. "I don't see a difference."

You didn't expect the sudden manhandling and slunk several inches down the lounge chair while the demons stared at your foot. Kicking and twisting your leg was futile. You modestly crossed your free leg.

"I think it's getting worse," Satan said.

"We need to take action," Lucifer decided.

Asmodeus was actively quivering now. Belphegor and Leviathan had crept behind you and started picking at your wrinkly fingers. You tried to swat them away to no avail.

"Give me 25 minutes! Literally! Probably even less, this will go away on its own! I just need to dry off."

"We need a solution now," Mammon asserted. The cogs in his brain were turning. "We need fire."

You tried to sit up, to jump up and stop Mammon before he burned the whole villa down in an attempt to dry you off, but Beelzebub had not let go and you stumbled. You grazed your knee on the concrete and winced.

A second round of panic overcame the demon brothers. Beelzebub let go, Lucifer picked you up, and Belphegor wrapped your knee with every available towel he could lay his hands on. Asmodeus and Leviathan were crying on each other's shoulders. Mammon came running back, oblivious to the second disaster that just occurred, with a flaming stick in his hand that Satan tried to keep at bay. If you got burnt on top of everything else, they'd probably go insane and destroy the human world.

In the midst of the chaos you caught a glimpse of your hand. It was practically dry. You couldn't even see the wrinkles anymore. You angrily wiggled in Lucifer's grasp as various hands fussed over you.

"Stay!!" you shouted over the clamor.

The brothers went tumbling to the ground, save for Lucifer who fought to stay rooted in place. You could finally hear yourself think again. There was primarily one thought on your mind.

"I just want to go swimming."

[salemlunaa]

YOU’RE TRYING TOO HARD ꧂

burning yourself out over something so simple never ends well…

If you know me, have been following me for a while or frequent my posts, you might notice a pattern, I never use the word “enter” when it comes to the void/“I AM” state. I always use the words “tap in” or “induce”. Why? because you can’t enter something that IS you. It’s not possible,

you are the void,

you are I AM,

you are pure consciousness,

you are an awareness,

stop trying too hard, as soon as you think too hard about it, as soon as you look for “symptoms” as soon as you ask yourself if you’re “doing this right” youve fucked up. Why? because you are the operant power, let me ask you a question: who do you think you answer to? why are you asking if you’re doing this correctly when YOU’RE the god of your reality?

do you think you answer to these bloggers, including me, sitting back up after 5 minutes of “nothing happening” to go back to tumblr and double check the posts on here to see if you’re “doing it right”? do you think you answer to these success stories of people you don’t even know, copying what they did to the very detail so that you can shift? do you think you answer to the a million and one methods in this community, limiting yourself to thinking you cant shift if you dont do it like they did it, like that video said you should, like this specific blogger said you should? why are you answering to other people if YOU are the operant power, like you say in your affirmations? why are other people controlling you in YOUR reality? you are being sooo pathetic right now…

stop. trying. so. hard. this shit will always be as easy as breathing, this state of pure consciousness is owed to us

as a god you answer to no one, stop asking if you’re doing it right.

there’s nothing to do, just be

fuck methods and just be

get rid of this mindset that you have to work hard to shift/ tap into the void or “I AM”/ induce pure consciousness

get rid of this mindset that you have to put in any effort at all

get rid of this mindset that you need a method

although time is a concept, why are you putting hours of effort and energy into a routine to help you, what do YOU need help with? you’re a god, you don’t need a routine, just be.

As soon as you acknowledge that you are trying too hard to immerse yourself, take a step back for a second and remind yourself of the truth: no effort is needed!! Like i say, you can rack your brain so much that it drains you, trying to find the “cheat code”, and let me tell you, it won’t end well, and you will know that when in years time you are still here, still looking for “instant methods” all while living a life that you dread.

It should never be a chore, the second it feels that way or the second you feel that you’re draining yourself because you just “can’t seem to get it” take a step back, only for a moment, and calm yourself down because something that only takes you seconds is never that serious.

Relax, Deep breathing, Affirm “I AM”, Let go, that’s it. that’s all you need, nothing else, i PROMISE you

JUST BE, SIMPLY BECAUSE YOU CAN. NO EFFORT NEEDED!!🐆💋

also thank you to beyoncé for this gif and for letting me make this post (iykyk lmao)

[voxhypno]

DAY 1

It's just one file, you tell yourself. You've been curious about hypnosis for a long time, bumming around in a few chatrooms where "hypnotists" wait all of 30 seconds to try clumsily to make you send them pictures of your ass, and eventually you stumble across a link that leads to the video that you're staring at now.

"Obedience School (Puppyplay)", proclaims the title, along with a still image of a green spiral, mid-swirl.

You tell yourself, "Here goes nothing", and press play.

The spiral leaps to life, spinning around and around on your screen, immediately drawing your eye. As a low, warm, soft voice begins to play through your headphones, telling you that it's okay, you can relax, your eyes start to flutter. Your body begins to feel floaty and light as your mind... just...

--------------------------------

You wake up on the floor, the computer screen frozen on a spiral no longer spinning. Your clothes are half-removed, as if someone or something with no knowledge of how they work tried to pull them gracelessly off of your body.

Your face is flushed, your hair disheveled, and your cheeks and chest covered in... drool?

Blushing furiously, you wipe yourself clean and try to remember what happened. Bits and pieces flicker through your mind... your tongue sticking out... the feeling of carpet against your palms and knees... and a warm, all-encompassing happiness, radiating through your brain, the ripples of pleasure and relaxation still echoing within your muddled mind.

Grinning, you save the link to the video. You know you'll be back.

Day 7

The entire day, you've found it hard to focus. You've been thinking about the video more and more often the longer you've gone without watching it.

That spiral, that voice, they just seem to beckon you. Those fleeting memories, feelings... You've been able to piece them together more now. You were a puppy, a brainless, happy animal. You crawled around, did tricks, panted and barked. Ordinarily you'd find it embarrassing.

You don't, though.

It was a nice break, being a puppy. Not having to think about your job, your worries, your cares. You just got the chance to bliss out and enjoy the feeling of being cared for, being told what to do, not having to stress for once.

You walk into your room, resolute. You're going to watch the video again. You need to know whether it was a fluke or not.

As you walk to your desk, without even really considering it, you pull your clothes off, sitting down naked. For a moment, you wonder why, but you remember the way that your clothes were disheveled last time. Of course. It makes sense for a puppy to be naked. Puppies aren't used to clothes. You're a good puppy.

...you stop, momentarily confused. Where did that come from?

Shaking your head, you click play on the video, and the spiral starts up again. This time the voice doesn't even say 5 words before you're drifting away.

You're so immediately out of it that you don't notice you were softly panting before the video even started.

DAY 30

You're barely even inside the door before you start ripping your clothes off, your hands paws clumsily pulling you free. A few weeks ago, you would have at least worried that the neighbors would see you. Now, that thought doesn't even enter your mind.

You drop to your knees all fours where a good puppy belongs and crawl to your living room, where you've set the spiral up on your TV. You're already panting and wiggling with excitement.

In your hazy head, you still can't believe that you managed to work up the courage to message the creator of the video Master. He was so understanding and nice! He called you a good puppy for being able to type out that whole message with your hands paws, and he even started making some special videos for you! You can't help but wag your butt tail at the thought of having such a nice new friend Master.

The spiral starts up, and you're already gone. Plopping down in a perfect sit position like you've been trained to do, tongue out, happily staring and letting your mind be coaxed and teased away by Master.

You know what you are now. You've heard it over and over again. You're a puppy. A dumb dim doggy pet. You love to crawl. You love to bark. You love to play and do tricks and get belly rubs and treats.

When you finally squeaked out a blushing request to see the man behind the voice, Master very kindly obliged. And it was then that you learned something very special about being a puppy.

You go into heat very easily.

It wasn't long before you were whimpering and begging on a video call, Master chuckling as you bounced up and down on a dildo, a rubber bone between your teeth to match the one you were riding.

Wasn't long before you were panting over pictures and videos of his cock, sliding in and out of a pocket pussy held in his strong hand, while his deep calming voice whispered into your mind that it should be you there taking his dick into every one of your happy puppy holes.

Lost in adoration and arousal, you barely even realize that the spiral has ended. You have commands you don't remember receiving. You no longer want to resist them. You don't remember ever wanting to resist them.

You crawl to your cell phone, laying on the floor. You open it and type in a number you don't recognize with your paws. You mindlessly bark into the receiver. And you hear the voice you love so much.

"Good dog! Sit tight, girl. I'm gonna come get you, okay?"

You don't even hear the last part. As soon as the words "good dog" hit your ears, you were already cumming your mind away.

DAY ???

You sleepily rise from your bed in the den, stretching out and yawning, flexing your paws. You shake your head, trying to clear it, the tag on your collar jingling. You're so thoroughly conditioned that even that little sound sends a wave of emptiness and pleasure through your head, and you press your pussy against the rough fabric of your bed, humping brainlessly.

Your sleepy mind registers the sound of the front door opening, and you bolt out of bed, leaving behind a dripping wet spot that you'll come back to idly sniff and lick at later. Master is home!

Barking, you scamper into the living room on all fours, the tail plug in your ass swishing from side to side as you rush to Master's side, pressing your cheek against his leg and panting happily.

He smiles, scritches you in your favorite spot behind your ears, and says some words that you no longer understand. Somewhere in the sounds falling from his lips are the words "good girl", though, so you cum unthinkingly, automatically, with a whimper. Like a good, well-trained puppy.

As the glow fades, you can't help but press your chest to the floor, hiking your rump in the air, staring at him pleadingly and swaying your tail back and forth. You need a treat so bad... You were a good dog and waited all day... And Master seems to understand.

He chuckles, and as per your daily welcome-home ritual, he unzips his pants to reveal your favorite treat. That dick that broke you. The cock that helped you realize your place, owned and collared. No past, no future, no stress, no worry. You almost cum again at the sight of it as you sit pretty, just as you were taught.

Teasingly, Master waves that perfect cock in front of your face, the scent of it doing nothing to stem the flow of your drool onto the floor. He's making the sound that means "wait", and so you do. You're a good dog.

He snaps his fingers, and your mind disappears.

And as you eagerly pounce, slobbering and licking over Master's cock and looking up at him with empty, adoring eyes, you know for certain that you've never been happier.

[rosedpetal]

Behave

Summary: Bucky shows you what happens when you test him.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Wife!Reader

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: smut.

Minors, do not interact.

Masterlist | Part II

You didn't mean to be so overbearing, but you just loved him so much.

"Doll, you have to stop giving the stinky eye to these women. It's getting embarrassing." He whispered on your ear, his grip tightening just a little bit on your arm as he smiled for the people schmoozing at Tony's gala event. "Seriously, when did you get so jealous?"

"Jealous?" You scoff, adjusting the skirt of your long dress, softening the slightly wrinkled fabric. "Barely. I just wish you didn't look so smug with all those single bitches fawning over you."

"In my time, we used to call them spinsters." Bucky raised his eyebrow at you.

"Well, that's just sexist."

"And calling them bitches is not?"

Your glare made him shut his mouth, a little smirk threatening to tug at the corner of his lips.

"I get it, okay? I'm being too much. It's just that I'm so obsessed with you. Why can't I just be one of those wives who barely wait for their husbands to drop dead?" You sighed, adjusting his tie.

He chuckles, a low rumble reverberating through his chest. He trapped your chin between his thumb and index finger, amused at you. "You're crazy, you know that? But it's okay. Your psycho side is almost as cute as your clingy and needy one."

You roll your eyes. "Gotta admit, though. You looked really hot over there talking to them and signing autographs and all. If I didn't want to stab your guts off, I'd be horny... " You paused. "Okay. I'm horny either way."

"Behave." Bucky hissed, looking around to see if anyone was paying attention to the two of you. At the sound of your little crazed giggle, he snapped his head back to you. "How much have you had to drink, by the way?"

"I didn't drink that much. I don't know what's taken over me, okay? You're just... Ugh!" You groaned, and Bucky blinked, a little taken aback. "You're hot. Are you taken?" You playfully bat your eyelashes at him and he chuckles.

"Well, I do have a wife. But she's quite small, so I think you can take me from her if you want to." He smirked, rubbing circles on the small of your back.

"Ugh, you're married? I bet she's a fucking witch."

Bucky shakes his head, getting his lips close to your ear. "Honestly... My wife is quite crazy. Sometimes I'm scared at how unhinged she can be when she's jealous."

"Is she hot, though?"

"Oh... She's so hot. Just thinking of her has me feeling all types of way... But she's also quite needy. It gets on my fucking nerves. I swear, that woman could drop on her knees to beg for my attention."

"Is begging the only good thing she can do on her knees, though?" You purr.

Bucky checks again for any nosy listeners, relaxing a bit as he realizes you're too are safe.

"Well... She also prays really well, just like a good girl should."

Your could feel your gaze becoming a little unfocused, your core warming up. "I wanna choke you so bad."

Bucky's face and neck turn a little red. "Jesus, baby. What has gotten into you tonight? Is it all because I dressed up?"

"Maybe. Do you think it's possible for humans do go into heat?"

"Oh. I don't know, are you?"

"Breed me. Breed me. Breed me." You chanted on his ear, and his grip on your hips tightened almost painfully.

"Stop right this second." He hisses. "I do not need this right now. Are you trying to get me hard in public, you little shit?"

"Is it working?"

"You're going to pay for this."

"Are you gonna give me your belt tonight?"

"Y/N-"

"What? Is this too kinky for you? Is the idea of marking my ass with your leather belt too much for your poor brain to handle right now, baby?"

Bucky closes his eyes, fists clenching on his sides. Then, he grabs you by your waist, pulling you to the nearest room he could find.

He swiftly unlocks the door, assessing the small supply closet you two are in. It's not ideal, but it'll be enough. His hand fly to your throat, pressing on it slightly, eyes darkened with desire, his slacks tight and uncomfortable. "Filthy little tease. You enjoy riling me up, don't you? Do you think you'll get away with this little stunt you just pulled, huh?"

His vibranium hand snakes under your dress through the slit on your thigh, his eyes darkening at how soaked your underwear is. "Tsk. Does being a little slut make you wet, baby?"

You whimper, completely overtaken by lust, his digits teasing your clothed clit. "You can try to give me shit for misbehaving, but you love how obsessed I am with you, isn't that right? You crave my attention. You thrive on how needy I can get for you."

Bucky's eyes darken, the beautiful expansion of his blue irises only getting noticed by you by the moonlight reflecting through the small window.

"You're giving me fucking butterflies, Bucky. What the fuck? Wasn't that supposed to stop after we got married?" Your brows furrow, your indignant tone making a little snicker escape him. He hooks his finger on the waistband of your panties, a sharp tug being enough to rip your underwear.

"I didn't vow to bore you 'til death do us part, doll. I'll never stop making you feel this way." He whispered, gaze softening at you. Time seemed to stop as he inched closer to you, lips brushing against your red painted ones. "I fucking love you, you unhinged little thing."

"Love you too, baby." Your eyes close shut, mouth hanging open as he fingers you in the supply closet, swallowing your moans with his tongue, bucking his hips on your hand as you palm him through the straining fabric.

Reaching down, you swiftly undo his slacks, pulling them low enough just to free his twitching cock, guiding the thick head to your entrance.

With how lubricated you are, he only has to spit on his cock and moisten the length with his hand, a low growl leaving his mouth as he sink on your heat, inch by inch.

There's a moment of silence as you two lock eyes, your weeping pussy welcoming him with a tight grip that he swears it makes him harden, if that's even possible.

Your head falls back with the first shallow thrusts, a small gasp leaving your lips. Bucky's gritting his teeth, pulling you up, your legs wrapping around his middle. Then, he slams into you.

You can't even speak, getting your walls bullied repeatedly by your husband's thick cock. "F-fuck! Bucky, ohmygod, wait!"

He smirks, not slowing down a second. "I told you were gonna pay for being a menace tonight. What's the problem, baby? What happened to the slut who told me to breed her just a few minutes ago? Where is she? Huh?" He circles his hips, buried deep inside you, making you see white. He swats your thigh, his voice rough. "Answer me."

A little, humiliating whine escapes you, and he chuckles again.

"See, baby? How I can fuck the brat out of you? How you should think before riling me up? How you can't back up for your little antics?" His vibranium thumb circles your clit, the coolness of it only serving to make you orgasm quicker.

Bucky moans at your walls clamping violently on him, a grip so deliciously tight it makes him wanna pull his own hair. So he tugs hard at your locks instead, exposing your neck for his greedy lips as he comes inside you.

[playfully-sadistic]

Getting yourself off again, angel? Second time today, isn't it? Or already the third, fourth, fifth? You're such a greedy, insatiable thing. Now, now, don't stop on my account - no, keep going, you're doing great.

But your touches are a little too intense, don't you think? A little too... on the nose, too obviously intended to make you come. Good little pets don't finish fast - if at all - no, they edge and edge, over and over again, until they finally get permission to let themselves go and succumb to their primitive needs. So... Lighter. Slower. No rubbing, only caressing, no fingering, only teasing your hole with your fingertips.

But first things first, fingers off entirely. Apparently, you need someone to guide you through the entire process, don't you? You're just too impatient and worked up, full of hormones and heat, to be able to regulate yourself, poor baby. Don't worry, I'll do it for you, step by step, nice and slow. Nothing makes it easier for you than having someone to order you around and tell you exactly what you're allowed to do. Now, isn't it extra fun that, even though nothing stops you from going further before I allow you to, we both know that you won't? You'll be good and behave, just for me, less even, just for a few written words, the illusion of a dom hovering over your barely clothed body and whispering sweet commands against the shell of your ear.

Touch your chest first. Even if it does nothing for you, even if you barely have any sensation in it, I want your fingers circling your nipples, your fingernails gently scratching over them, pinching them between two of them, pulling, massaging. Put on a show, as if someone was watching you. If you have some clamps around, get them, and tease yourself with them - not quite putting them on, but rubbing over your areola, using it to pinch and pull as well. Feel that, treasure? That's what you get for being patient and taking your time. That nice pulling feeling in your stomach... Yeah, that's good, isn't it? Good job. Toy with your chest and nipples some more, make them swollen, sore, red, make sure they already ache before you finally put on those clamps. If you don't own any, you go ahead right now, and order some. The most humiliating, the prettiest ones you can find. And I want you reading through this post again when they arrive, so you can properly get off to it.

Now, I'm sure by now your legs have fallen open all by themselves, mh? Revealing a soaked, hot mess in between, throbbing and begging for attention. So tempting to put your hand right in the middle of it and grope yourself, but you'll be good for me and keep your hands to yourself, love. For now, all you're allowed to do is let your fingers brush over your stomach... Drawing little circles around your belly button, long swirls that slowly go further down, ah, there's that nice feeling of your guts tensing up, isn't it? God, you're so predictable, such a simple thing. Oh, it's fine, you're merely a body in need of being fucked right now, no wonder your brain turns into simple mode.

Gently tease yourself with your fingernails along your lower stomach, before you move onto your thighs - oh, my, you're really desperate, spread them out as far as possible, and let me guess, you only just noticed now how far you've opened up, haven't you? A proper slut for the taking, good job, my angel. Touch your thighs, not the inner parts yet, just explore yourself, palms tracing your muscle, reaching up to your hip, moving onto your stomach again, where that nice, tight feeling comes back. Slowly let your fingers glide to the inner part of your thighs, where your ticklish, and it usually only works to get touched there when it's someone else's fingers, but, oh, fuck, darling, today's different, isn't it? Touching yourself so intensely, yet thoughtfully, it's really showing its effect on you, mh? That's perfect, you're doing so well, yeah, touch and tease your thighs some more, move those fingers up until...

Now you're allowed to move them right in between your legs. That feels good, hm? Finally letting your fingertips feel your own heat, swollen and twitching, feeling your own wetness, only caused by a post. Doesn't that truly show how desperately you need guidance and being made to feel utterly submissive? Don't keep those moans in, show everyone that you're such a needy, horny doll, so desperate to touch themselves. Why the modesty? Let it out. Rub yourself - slowly, dear - and feel yourself up, and know that you've done anything to this point because you followed orders, because you obeyed, because you just couldn't do it yourself and needed someone else so fucking badly, you needed someone to tell you what to do, does it feel like I'm there with you, do you like it, mh? Does it turn you on to know that I took the time writing this, for you to follow every step and work yourself up?

If you own a vibrator, you'll use it now. If it's the kind that you shove inside your needy hole, then do it, don't be gentle, don't be slow, shove it inside of you on the highest settings, as deep as it can go, and use your hand to continue rubbing. If it's the kind that you put on yourself, lay it on you, don't press it against you - we wouldn't want you to get too excited now, would we? - and shove your fingers inside of your instead. Fuck yourself. Make it good. Make it hard to not fall off the edge. Make it as rough and fast and overstimulating as you possibly can. Make it feel humiliating how fucking close it gets you that you're doing this in the first place. Feel the weight and tension that your heat brings - lean into it. Open your mouth, let the moans and whines and all those pretty noises out, don't close it to swallow, let your drool run down your chin - pant. It's getting hard to not come, isn't it? Poor baby.

Do you want me to give you permission? You do. I know. It's okay, baby, relax, keep fucking yourself open like that. A little patience.

Getting harder, mh? Feeling it in your guts already? God, you're so...

Think you can manage a bit longer?

Soon, my angel. You sound so good when you're desperate.

Almost there.

Ready, love?

Come for me, right now.