#even abused dogs crawl back

[patheticrafeenjoyer]

i think this could be considered just a heat-of-the-moment kind of thing, but ward actually just walks straight in front of where rafe is clearly very unwell and holding a gun that he's just shot someone with.

if you look closely you can see that rafe's finger is on the trigger and it's literally pointed right at ward.

now, ward is in the process of getting rafe to put the gun down, but i feel like anyone can tell you that walking in front of a live gun like this is such a bad idea.

now, again i don't think ward is thinking too straight here, but its interesting to think that even though his instincts must've been screaming DO NOT WALK IN FRONT OF THAT FUCKING GUN!! he does so anyway, almost like he knows rafe wouldn't shoot him in this moment.

obviously this doesn't remove the threat of an accidental firing or something, but i think ward knows just how far rafe would go to protect him (he's just seen it firsthand not even five minutes ago), and that means that ward himself is not at risk.

rafe kind of being ward's attack dog..... ouch.

[willowed-wisp]

ghost as a dad ( part two ) [ simon riley ]

part one | part three

- Definitely takes your eldest to base when she can walk small distances with him on occasion.

- He literally crouches down and holds her little hands. Her doe eyes wandering everywhere, a pinch of awe and a little bit of fear but when she looks at her dad she gains the courage to continue.

- Definitely calls her, ‘pumpkin’, ‘princess’, and other things that has uncle Soap like a puppy dog.

- Johnny is the only person he trusts with her on base- he is your kids’ god father, along with Simon’s brother, Tommy.

- When Simon notices her getting sluggish, “Come on, sweet pea,” holding her with caution as she has the nerve to bonk him on the nose when talking to his superiors, “what has mummy been teachin’ ya, huh?” Not mad at all, impressed even- she had an impressive right hook for such tiny hands.

- Her head shook, “Not mama, dada,” her finger pointed over to someone, “It was Soapy…” Simon had been on the verge of hysterical laughter but contained himself- remembering the encounter later that day. Even telling you over dinner.

- He has two personalities when your son is born, maybe it was because of his abusive childhood that drove him to leave home but he had a mental block after learning the baby was a boy.

- All of his worry melted away in the delivery room- Simon was the first to hold his baby boy. Something he’d missed with your daughter.

- He decided to be a better father figure to his son than his dad. The BEST father figure even if it fucking killed him.

- Simon’s mother was watching your little girl at home. It was the afternoon that you went into labour. 6 hours down the line it was over and you were hell bent on getting back home.

- Simon takes care of the nitty gritty for the first fortnight, while you get proper rest.

- He rarely sleeps while deployed so he’s used to taking the night shift on. Until your stubborn ass gets him to allow you to take it and that he doesn’t need to do that every night of the week.

- Simon gets his best sleep when your daughter crawls between you in the middle of the night.

- His heart breaks when he sees this little blonde haired figure swaddled in a fluffy blanket waddle through the door he leaves ajar for this exact reason. “What’s wrong, pumpkin?”

- She shuffles over to him, blanket falling at her feet as she jumps into his open arms, “Couldn’t sweep, dada,” Clung to him like a koala bear.

- He gives a gentle boop onto her nose, making her giggle, “Guess you’re gonna have to sleep ‘ere then…” Plopping her down in the middle and giving her one of his pillows.

- She’s such a deep sleeper- good when the baby cries but a nightmare trying to wake her up without getting kicked. She was her dad through and through. Down to the brown eyes, to the little mannerisms she has.

- When she starts nursery, Simon is on school duty. He loves making sure his little girl gets there safe and sound. Ditching the car parked near the packed nursery before walking hand in hand with his pumpkin.

- You wait in the car on the first day, with your boy in his car seat in the back of the Land Rover. In tears watching this 6’5” man crouching down to hold his four-year-old’s daughter’s hand.

- When he returned to the car, his hand at the back of your head dragging you into a breathtaking kiss. You were taken aback, “What was that for?” Said between laughs.

- Tears trapped in his gentle eyes, “You gave me the best kids,” your fingers brushed by his lips before he held them in his, “Thank you…”

- Definitely hangs whatever artwork your girl does on the fridge, praising her macaroni art pieces.

- Gets a call while on base, “Mr Riley?” He acknowledges it’s him. “Hiya, it’s the nursery… there’s been a situation. Y/D/N has gotten into a scuffle with one of the boys…”

- “Is she okay? She hurt?” He blurted out and did the maths on how quickly he could get to his daughter. Not caring how this looked to the other guys.

- “No, Y/D/N punched one of the boys in the face. They were picking on her, when’s the soonest you can pick her up?” He had to hold that laughter, reign it back in a cough.

- “I’ll be there in ten…” He hung up the phone, now giving a small chuckle.

- Price is the first to speak up, “What’s got you so happy, Riley?”

- “Y/D/N just punched a bully in the face…”

- Gaz raised a brow, “That’s a good thing?”

- “I’ve never so proud in my life…”

- He goes to the nursery, doing an act in front of the staff before they get to the car, “Don’t be mad at me, dada…” His heart crushed as she said that, as if he would ever be mad at her.

- “No more punchin’, okay? Call ‘em a prick instead, alright?” Then he turned to her fully. Fist outstretched to her, instead of bumping it she slapped his knuckles. He’d have to teach how to fist bump, “Don’t let people pick on ya… I’m always here…”

- The next day, you received a call. From the nursery… telling both you and Simon to come in.

- Simon carried your son, sound asleep on his dad’s arms. You could tell the staff were maybe a little intimidated by your husband. You were before you discovered he was such a kid under that tough exterior.

- His eyes softer than they had ever been looking at his children, “What’ve you done now, missy?” You studied her features, so much of you in her but that look was all Simon. Determined and a slight scowl, yeah that was Si alright.

- “Y/D/N called one of the other children, something beginning with ‘P’ and ending in ‘Rick’,” Something told you she had some influence from her father.

- He fist-bumped your daughter when you were walking back to the car. You’d have a word with Simon later that day but for that moment. To see him so at peace and her little smile… you wouldn’t spoil that for the world.

- When your son was four years old, you saw the difference with how Simon treated the pair. He instilled kindness in him, took him to football games with the members of 141.

- It affects Simon to be away from them during deployments but you’re the best mother to them. He couldn’t ask for a better partner.

- He lets the kids colour in his tattoos… a pink skull on his arm… green fire… they used sharpie/permanent markers. During deployment it breaks his heart to see the colours fade, he contemplates filling them back in but he says to himself, “Gotta get home so the kiddos can do it…”

————

taglist:

@thychuvaluswife @foxygirl-4287

[kekewrites]

tw. mention of creampie, size kink, wholesome(?), reader is unable to speak human language + limited vocabulary, mention of abuse, abandonment issues

Imagine being a puppy!hybrid who's been saved by your current owner months ago. He found you wandering the streets alone, cold and starving.

It was pouring hard and the wind was extra harsh that day. Oh, how pitiful it is to see a hungry little pup girl rummage through the dirty trash bins, hoping to see scraps and edible food. That sight of you tugged on his tender heart, unable to walk away from such scene, he approached with quiet footsteps, not wanting to scare your cautious figure.

Your sharp senses have been dulled by fatigue and hunger as you didn't even notice his presence behind. Normally, you would've bolted away, afraid of how humans have treated you, but the way his voice sounded to your alert furry ears made your guard down. It was different from the people who abused and abandoned you. So gentle, the way his voice sounded like a lullaby.

That was the last thing you remembered after your first meeting.

***

You really are the best pet or companion he could ever ask for. Such a baby to take care of truly. He found out how you were unable to speak human language, often babbling and butchering words if you do try to talk. You do understand simple phrases and tones, which made it easier to communicate with you. He's not that knowledgeable about hybrids but he do know how to take care of a regular dog. It's hard to compare you to a dog or a human, you're neither closer to the other.

He severely underestimate how much of an attachment you formed with him.

It's not a bad thing.

But it certainly becomes harder for him to leave you for work.

"Come on... Don't look at me like that."

He really didn't want to leave you alone. Truly, he wants to be with you 24/7 but he needs to work, or else he won't be able to spoil you.

Your small pout and cute begging eyes, along with your droopy ears nearly made him stay. Nearly.

"Baby... I need to go. Don’t make that face," he murmurs, his voice soft as he takes in your pouted lips and droopy ears, tugging at his heartstrings. He gently pulls you up, pressing a kiss to your cheek, trailing to your lips, and peppering your face with soft kisses.

Don’t worry, he always thinks of you while he’s typing away at his lonely desk, his mind wandering to what you’re doing without him by your side. Were you playing just fine? Eating the meals he prepped for you? Being a good girl for him? His heart aches at the thought of you waiting by the door, staring at it just as he left it.

He never anticipated how slow time would crawl as he counted the minutes to the end of his shift, refusing to let a single minute become overtime. The moment he could, he raced through the garage and drove home.

"I’m back!" he calls, dropping his case of files and loosening his tie.

Thump, thump, thump.

Oh, how he loved the sound of your footsteps racing across the floor to reach him. It was the kind of sound that melted away the stress of the day, the kind of sound that reminded him why he hurried home in the first place. But this time, he wasn’t prepared for the way you threw yourself at him, arms flung wide as you collided with his chest.

He stumbled slightly, caught off guard, but quickly steadied himself, wrapping his arms around you instinctively. Your warmth, the way you buried your face in his suit—it all made his heart swell.

"Whoa there!" he said, chuckling softly as he ruffled your hair. "I missed you too, baby."

You looked up at him, your eyes bright with joy, and his exhaustion melted away completely. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, holding you close as if he’d never let go. Moments like this made everything worth it, every long hour and every sleepless night. You were his home, his safe haven, and the best part of his day.

"W-Wel... um," you stammer, your cheeks flushing slightly as your little fangs peek out with each syllable. "Wellum... b-back!"

He freezes for a moment, blinking as he stares at you, his head tilting slightly in confusion. Then, it hits him like a soft breeze, the realization dawning across his face.

Were you trying to say welcome back?

His heart squeezes as the thought sinks in, and a wide grin tugs at his lips. Aren’t you just the cutest? He crouches down to your level, his hands gently resting on your shoulders.

"Wellum back, huh?" he teases softly, his voice warm and playful. "Thank you, sweetheart. I feel very welcome now."

You shift nervously, glancing away with a little huff, but your lips twitch as if you’re trying not to smile. He chuckles and taps the tip of your nose affectionately, unable to resist how endearing you look.

"Do you know how much I missed you?" he says, his tone dropping into something softer, almost a whisper, as he pulls you into a hug. "Hearing that from you just made my day, you know that?"

Coming home was the best part of his day, he might quit his work and become a full-time freelancer if it meant spending more time with you.

Then one day came something with you. Your behavior became odd, strange even...

It didn't take too long for him to realize that you were approaching your heat. He read about it while researching about hybrids, the heat suppressants pills already stock in his drawers. The only problem was how uncooperative you were, spitting out the pills, running away when it was time for bathing, and being skittish whenever he was out. You were still his sweet girl, but you'd get moody and have an outburst.

"Come on, it's not that bad... Come here, baby." His voice is soft, coaxing.

Bath time was his least favorite thing to do. Not because he didn’t enjoy the idea of it—cleanliness was important—but because it always turned into a battle of wills. He never liked having to wrestle with you, and yet here you were, backed into the corner of the room like a wary kitten—wait, like a dog your arms wrapped protectively around yourself.

His gaze softens as he takes in your cowering, guarded figure. The way you look at him, a mix of defiance and uncertainty, makes his resolve waver. But the small trail of dirt smeared across your cheek and the strands of hair sticking to your face remind him there's no way around this.

"Baby, you can't stay like that forever," he says, tilting his head with an amused grin. He takes a cautious step forward, his movements slow, deliberate. "I'll make it quick, I promise. No bubbles this time, okay?"

You narrow your eyes suspiciously, not buying into his negotiations just yet. Inching further into the corner.

He sighs dramatically, running a hand through his hair. "This time, no tricks, just a nice, warm soak. You'll feel so much better."

When you don't budge, his grin turns sly. "But if you're going to make me chase you…" He starts rolling up his sleeves, his voice dropping to a mock-serious tone. "Then don't blame me if I catch you."

Your eyes widen slightly, and he sees the tiniest twitch of a smile forming on your lips, your tail wagging despite your best efforts to hide it. In that split second, he lunges forward, scooping you up effortlessly despite your squeals of protest. "Gotcha!" he declares triumphantly, carrying you toward the tub, half-heartedly squirming in his arms.

His smile softening as he presses a quick kiss to your forehead. "Now, let's get you cleaned up, stubborn little thing."

It was a nice warm bath, you placed on his lap as his arms wrapped around your waist for preventing your escape.

"See? Not that bad, hm?" He murmurs, almost groaning at how blissful he's feeling. The warm and comfortable water around him plus your nice, soft and plush figure on his lap made it ten times better than usual.

You were oddly quiet, your ears flopping. Your temperature higher than normal, he can see how you were breathing heavily.

Oh.

It's starting again hm?

Well, he's here to help... just not with the pill.

***

The scent of your arousal filled the air, sweet and intoxicating, making his own body react in kind. His cock twitched, already starting to harden.

"Hey, baby, you okay?" He asked softly, his voice rough with concern and desire. He tightened his arms around your waist, holding you close as you shifted restlessly on his lap. "You're burning up. Do you need me to cool you down?"

Your tail thumped against the side of the bathtub, betraying your excitement. His hands slid up your sides, tracing the curves of your body through the water. He leaned in close, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

"I can help you feel better. I know just what you need," He murmured, his voice low and seductive. His hands continued their exploration, cupping your breasts through the water. They were swollen and sensitive, the nipples hardening under his touch. His cock was fully hard now. Pressing his hips up against your ass, letting you feel his cock throb with need. He reaches down, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing in tight circles. Your breath hitches, a soft whimper escaping your lips as he works you, bringing you closer to the edge.

"That's it, let me hear you," he rasps.

His tongue laves over your pulse point, teeth grazing the sensitive skin. Marking you, claiming you. His fingers never stop their relentless assault on your clit, pushing you higher and higher until you're trembling on the brink, teetering on the edge of release.

"Come for me," he demands.

And you do, your back arching, a scream tearing from your throat as your orgasm crashes over you. He holds you through it, his fingers still working your clit, drawing out your pleasure until you're boneless and spent in his arms.

But he's not done with you yet. Not by a long shot.

He read that hybrid's heat last long for a few weeks, worst case scenario, for months. It could affect your well-being so he won't take any chances for that to happen.

"Hold on tight, baby," He murmured against your lips, his voice husky with desire. With a smooth motion, he stood up in the bathtub, water sloshing around them as he carried you in his arms. Stepping out of the bathtub, water cascading down his muscular body as he made his way to the bedroom.

He'll do anything for his girl.

Anything.

[ayanominitrash]

INTRIGUE (True Form Sukuna x Reader)

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶꒷꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶꒷꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

Humans.

Though weak creatures, they cause chaos wherever and whatever era. It only seems like the only consistent thing in this world. They crawl like the desperate pathetic ants they are, forever struggling to survive day by day. The other idiot ants feel superior to the others, taking advantage of their power that they’d go so far as to take the food that others worked hard to haul onto the hill only for them to have it for themself.  Corruption. No matter the age, Ryomen Sukuna - King of Curses- has witnessed the same thing over and over again. It’s getting a little tiring to look at. 

This is the exact description that anyone in the village would put in the Kamo clan - the corrupt and tyrant rulers. They are wealthy and at the top of the power hierarchy, the very source of corruption, of abuse. The men in the family would beat, abuse, and take advantage of their blood relatives. Some are sold, adding more riches to their unnoble stockpile of treasure. To any lowlife they come across and feel like harassing, they would do so through pain and torture or even just public humiliation just for fun. There wasn’t any person that was brave enough to stand up against them. They were the only ones who were capable of protecting them from curses that would invade them from time to time. The people in that village are under their mercy. Where else can they go when there are curses out there beyond, not knowing how many are out threading freely?

Sukuna sighs in exasperation as he remains squatting on a tree branch, overlooking the nearby village under the bright sun. Sukuna hides in the forest, far away enough that humans wouldn’t loiter around much but close enough that he can watch what goes on in that small puny community. If he does encounter a human, his terrifying four-armed figure will be the last thing that they’d see before their demise. However, in recent days, there haven’t been a lot of humans threading deep into the forest because of the rumors that people who go there never return. Because of this, he hasn’t eaten for weeks and is currently starving for meat. Sukuna debates if it is time to raid the village to satiate his hunger and quench his thirst for blood. 

As if on queue, there was a rustle from the bushes nearby and a familiar scent carried in the wind to which Sukuna wasted no time but to take it all in with one big whiff. It’s the scent that he’s been longing for so long.

Food.

He makes his move, swinging his four arms from one branch to another as quietly as possible, making his way toward the delicious smell. He won’t be bothered to check if this one’s good meat, the only thing he cares about is to quiet down the rumbling of his stomach. When he reaches a safe enough distance, he crouches down his big frame behind one of the bushes near the small river stream. Sukuna’s red eyes shine against the sun as soon as it lands on his meal, licking his lips. 

It was a small girl with short hair, the bottom of her purple kimono neatly folded as she was squatting down at the side of the stream, running a hand in the water while staring in silence. She has her back turned to him as she hums a tune to herself. This was a very easy and effortless catch for Sukuna, a little girl with her guard down. He doubted that he would feel full after ingesting her whole being but it was better than nothing.  The King crouched down and waited, getting ready to pounce until he finally did with a deafening roar. 

Sukuna lands where she is, thinking he has crushed her. He was ready to dig his fingers into her body when he realized that he didn’t hear any screaming and that there was no one underneath him. Confused, he looks around only to see the girl had dogged him and is now holding her hands up.  This completely baffled Sukuna as he stared at the girl’s shocked but not scared face.

“E-easy there, I don’t intend to harm you. I’m sorry if I wandered too far into your territory.” She says in a high-pitched shaky voice. “I-I know you must be h-hungry. I’m actually carrying hens in the b-basket I’m carrying, if that would suffice”

Watching the girl talk made his blood boil. How dare she outwit him by dodging his attack? He would’ve consumed her by now if it weren’t for her eagerness to live. The foolish human thinks she can talk her way out of getting eaten by the King of Curses. He runs towards her, claws extended in front of him when she jumps out of the way again but this time, he can grab her by the foot. She yelps in pain at what he thought because of his grip but he looks down and sees a massive bruise on her ankle. It looked like it had been there for a few days so it couldn’t be because of him. She screams and lands on the shallow side of the water, wetting her hair, face, and upper body. He drags her leg towards him, laughing at the way she digs her fingers into the soil trying to stop herself from getting dragged. With ease, he lifts her upside down with one hand, satisfied with the way her Kimono drops down exposing her slender legs and undergarments.

“Oi, oi, oi! That’s no way to treat a lady, Mister!” She makes an effort to shake her fist at him despite being upside down. “P-please, maybe you should try the hen first?!”

The gull of this human to keep talking as if her life was not about to end made him stop in his movements to look down on her. Her face is panicked but not scared. This takes the fun out of killing her but he’s really after the food instead of the thrill. Still, Sukuna has never encountered a girl who acted this way. It was always screaming, crying, and flailing their hands which made it all the more delicious when he finally sank his sharp teeth into their flesh, silencing the pathetic pleas. Still holding her upside down, his eyes curiously do a double take on this peculiar filth he managed to catch. The little girl, no, this young woman had bruises, burns, and cuts all over her limbs. Some wounds have already been scars but others are still healing. The curse thought this person was a little girl but no doubt she was a woman with her mature figure and breasts. It was just that she was incredibly thin as if the concept of food was never introduced to her. Sukuna knows that he told himself before he attacked that he wasn’t gonna bother with the quality of this meat, but this made him lose his appetite. But mostly, he was curious about what this filth went through, and why doesn’t she act as if life was taken from her, like an empty shell. Instead, she has a wild and bright spirit in her that burns his eyes. It was. . . interesting.

He drops her to the ground.

“See, see! Hens do sound good if you just give it a chance. Come, come!” The woman scrambles to her feet to reach for the basket near the stream. She whips it around and offers it to him, with a hopeful smile on her face or a grateful one for having shown mercy. “They’re fresh from my uncle’s farm!” 

He stares at this ridiculous scene in front of him for a moment before crossing both pairs of his arms. “Get that fucking thing out of my face, you filthy being. What do you take me for?” 

The curse’s deep menacing voice was frightening enough that the young woman recoiled, pulling the hen back to her chest.  She was too stunned to say anything. 

“Well then, why didn’t you eat me if you didn’t want the hen?” 

This made Sukuna pull a dumbfounded face for her to talk to him so bluntly. He curls his lips in amusement, “You’re as filthy as they come, human. You’ve ruined my appetite with your disgusting state.”

“Hm?! Do you mean my injuries? I didn’t know curses were so picky.” She puts her hand on her chin as if in deep thought. 

“So you know what a curse is then, filth. Are you not afraid?”

“Should I be?” For the first time, there was a small smile on her lips as she stared up into the king’s eyes. “I’m well aware that people who enter the forest never come back and I know for sure that they’re eaten by curses. I didn’t think I’d encounter one so soon though, and it is the King himself, no less.”

It’s as if everything that comes out of this filth’s mouth was made to surprise Sukuna every time it opens. He still hadn’t come to terms with that this was all happening, so he couldn’t stop himself from laughing maniacally out loud out of the ridiculousness of it all, of his sharp teeth bearing in front of her. She flinches a little at the sight of him.

“You amuse me!” He finally says as soon as he stops laughing. “Bear to me your name, filth.”

She says her name in a small voice. 

“Never heard of you! Nonetheless, I shall not forget you, filth. I’m  still hungry and I’m still going to eat you despite how you are.” 

He laughs a little when he sees her shoulders drop and deflate at the realization that her life was not spared, the hen finally flies out of her grasp. 

“Uh- I know I came here knowing my fate but it seems that I'm afraid to die after all. I know you’re hungry. Are you alright with at least an arm? Or a leg? I can give you that much.” 

Again, he was taken aback by the words that left her lips once more. Before he can even say anything, she throws her left arm in his direction. “How about this arm?! There aren't many cuts here?” 

For the first time, Ryomen Sukuna, the King of Curses, was at a loss for words. He glares down at the odd creature in front of him, wondering what’s wrong with her. He takes a few steps back, widening the distance between them. After a few steps, he plops himself cross-legged on the ground. They carefully watch each other in silence, wary of each movement one of them makes. In the background, the hen she was once holding was leisurely bathing itself in the shallow end of the water. 

“Human,” Sukuna finally speaks to her, who flinches again. “Tell me, why are you decorated like a warrior and sickly thin like that of a twig?” 

The girl deflates in her seat again in the grass. She looked down at the stream and opted to go back to her position before Sukuna attacked her, one hand dipping in the water. Silence blankets them once more as she gathers her thoughts. 

“Hmmm. . .if you’re not going to eat me, then what are you planning to eat? Do you eat pigs?”

“I asked you a question, filth. I have yet to hear your answer.”

“- Because if you eat pigs, I could go ahead and grab one from the village and offer it to you. I don’t think I just leave knowing that you’re hungry if you’re kind enough not to kill me.”

“Are you not going to answer me?”

“Can I at least offer you something to eat first before I do?”  She gives a sheepish smile. “I know what it’s like not having anything to eat, as you can tell. My arm is still on the offer if that will help you.” 

“Bring me another human, then.” 

She was quiet for a bit, removing her hand from the water and then bringing it up to her chin in thought, not minding the water droplets dripping on her kimono since it was already messy from the earlier event. “Do you think an older lady will be okay? She’s on the brink of her death. She’s got a plump frame.”

Sukuna laughs again in amusement. “Do you have no regard for your kind? Oh, Humans!”

She shrugs, then grins, “I heard you like cooked humans. I can cook her for you if you’d like.”

His ears perk at this. It has been a while since he tasted cooked human meat. His previous servant was the only one who could cook for him and they have long since parted nearly a decade ago. His stomach growls at the mere suggestion of grilled meat. 

She lightly laughs, her eyes softening. “I take that as a yes. I can do that much for you for your kindness. You may find it odd for me to kill my kind, but honestly, I think it’s better to put her out of her misery. She was a great woman.” 

“How do I know you’ll come back, filth? I know, if you do not come back when the full moon rises, I will burn down your village.” 

Sukuna had a small inkling that she wouldn’t mind her village burning down, seeing how she is all covered in different types of injuries just from living there, but the mere mention of her village made the color drain from her face.

“Understood, then.” As the girl stands up with the basket full of hens, she makes an effort to dust off her kimono but it doesn't do anything. “Full moon it is!”

“Hurry up, fifth. I do not like waiting.” Sukuna says before standing up and walking back into the forest where he came from. 

⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖

(❀❛ ֊ ❛„)♡ reblogs and comments are appreciated//do not repost my work anywhere // this is one of my first Sukuna fics and I wrote this way back on March this year damn //not re-proofread so sorry if some parts dont make sense or some typa cringe lol

[ponderingmoonlight]

Chapter 1 : Forbidden Bond

Pairing: Gojo x fem!reader

Warnings: Language, violence, physical abuse, traumatic childhood, Gojo being a jerk

Next Chapter ->

His usual so unbothered eyes grow wider and wider with each passing second, watch in slow motion how this tiny human being he’s never seen before draws closer to him. Step by step, not paying attention to the stinging fact that she’ll run straight into him. He couldn’t care less, though.

That smile.

Has he seen you before? No, he would have remembered for sure. There wasn’t a single moment in his still young life that made Gojo Satoru gaze at a smile twice, that made him wonder about the name and voice behind it. But seeing you like this, laughing to yourself so unmoved by your surroundings leaves him pondering.

Who is this girl?

He doesn’t get the chance to think about it any further. Like in slow motion, you trip over his feet first before dragging him along with you onto the hot tarmac, tiny stones digging themselves into the palms of his hands.

“Oh my, I’m so sorry! I didn’t even look out, I…I’m so clumsy!”

“It’s okay...”

No, it’s not. Why weren’t you paying attention to where you’re walking, how dare you to run him over – him, the pride of the Gojo clan? Now he’s all dirty, his pants probably sliced open.

But instead of complaining, he simply watches how you lift yourself off the ground so awkward that you almost trip right back on top of him, brushing the dirt off the dark blue kimono you’re wearing.

“Now you’re all dirty because of me”, you sigh with a pout.

Your voice. It matches your appearance perfectly, the innocent gleam in your eyes, the way your laughter sounded earlier. Angelic, hypnotizing, so melodious that he urges to hear you talk again.

“Let me help you back up!”

You stretch out your tiny hand in front of his and out of instinct, he grabs it. How is it possible that his palm seems to swallow yours whole? You have to be around his age, an inch or two smaller. But his hands…

Your hands…

You let go way too early.

“I was actually on my way home and got distracted by that dog over there. It got so happy when I laughed so I couldn’t stop and then you came and-“

“Do you ever stop talking?”

His cold interruption catches you off guard while he shoves both hands in the pocket of his hoodie. That boy…You’ve never seen him before around here. Sure, you would have remembered those bright blue eyes and white hair. Where does he come from? Why does he look so different? All those questions piling up inside your head.

Where were you even going?

“(y/n)?”

Her cold voice makes your blood freeze in an instant, widened eyes not daring to look behind you. Why is she here? You aren’t late, did nothing wrong…did you?

“Who’s that?”, the boy in front of you questions.

“(Y/N) ZENIN!”

You swallow hard, the tone in your nanny’s voice making you realize what will happen next. Suddenly you don’t care about the boy with the bright blue eyes or the happy dog anymore.

“You…You’re a Zenin?”

He can’t believe his ears, orbs studying you up and down. Of course, he heard about your family, about the stinging fact that he should keep a safe distance from you. Out of all big jujutsu families, the Zenin clan is the worst with its members being as cold as ice. His teachers warned him, parents literally begged him to keep himself away from anything that comes from this family. And that includes you as well, apparently.

“A Zenin…”, he mumbles under his breath.

You look nothing like their description, though.

His voice fades into the back of your mind. All you feel is thick fear crawling up your veins, the dark foreshadowing making your limbs ache already.

“What on earth do you think you’re doing here with this brat!?”

Her cold hand grabs your tiny arm roughly and forces you backwards so harsh that you almost fall over again.

“I ran into him-”, you desperately try to explain yourself.

“You…You are that Gojo kid, aren’t you? The honoured one…”

“And you’re a nobody.”

Gojo.

Your eyes widen in sheer horror. If there’s one thing your father told you over and over, it was staying away from members of the Gojo clan.

“Especially Gojo Satoru. Don’t you dare to even talk to him or you’ll feel my anger.”

“I didn’t know it was him, I was on my way home when I-“

“Quiet.”

A ruthless slap right in your face sends you onto the ground all over again, blood squinting out your tiny nose immediately. You…You did something unforgivable, something your father will punish you for. Shivers haunt your whole body, thick fear almost taking your sight. One last time your glossy eyes dart towards the boy with the unbothered blue orbs that now show a hint of disturbance.

-8 years later-  

“Look what we have here, Suguru! There’s that dirty brat from the Zenin clan!”

“I don’t think you should call her like that…”

“I smelled your arrogance miles away, douchebag”, you mutter under your breath.

There he stands. Probably a few inches taller than the last time you saw him but still with the same dumb smirk plastered on his dirty face. He looks horribly good, arrogance dripping from every pore of his body. Oh, words can’t describe how much hatred you hold for that boy, how much willpower it costs you to not wipe him from the surface of this earth in an instant.

“Be nice to me, (y/n). After all I’m a special grade while you’re a lousy grade 1”, he bites back at you.

“Don’t make me launch another bit of Phobia Projection your way. I’ll never forget the way you cried like a baby.”

A cursed technique rooted in the dark arts of Jujutsu, a technique you learned by your grandfather by the age of 12. Those who wield this technique have the ability to delve into the depths of their target's psyche, extracting and manifesting their worst fears into reality. Through manipulation of spectral energy, the user projects vivid illusions that evoke intense sensations of terror and anxiety, effectively trapping their victim in a nightmarish realm tailored to their deepest fears. This technique not only inflicts psychological torment but can also paralyze the victim with fear, rendering them vulnerable to further attacks. It is a formidable and sinister ability that exploits the vulnerabilities of the human mind, leaving a lasting impression of dread long after the encounter has ended.

And made none other than Gojo Satoru break down in front of your feet.

“You’ll cry as well when I’m done with you, little bitch.”

Gojo builds himself up in front of you before Geto is able to stop him, glimmering eyes staring at you filled with nothing but hatred.

“Want applause for using a dark art on me? You’re nothing but a pathetic little girl that got slapped by her parents a little too often. And even though they trained you like there’s no tomorrow, your still not good enough to face me.”

His words hit you with full force, flood your mind with memories you tried to avoid so desperately. Out of instinct, you grab him by his throat and thrust him into the grass underneath, dig his flawless white hair into the dirt. If there’s one thing your family was right about, it was Gojo Satoru.

“I fucking hate you, Gojo. You’re nothing but a waste of space, just like your whole pathetic clan”, you hiss through gritted teeth, voice dripping in venom.

“My pathetic clan? Your family roams around and kills innocent people, (y/n). Who the hell are you to judge, huh? You’re not even strong enough to even talk to me”, he barks in reverse.

“Why does it always have to end like this between you two? Get off him, (y/n).”

Geto’s firm hands grab your shoulders and yank you backwards in order to create distance between Gojo and yourself while you can’t catch your breath.

Your deadly orbs still glare at him, blood pulsates through your veins so rapidly that you feel like exploding any given minute. He has some fucking nerve, talking about your past like that. Him, who’s nothing but a spoiled brat. Him, who’s gifting just by being born. Him, with nothing but immense powers and a pretty face.

“Next time you’re getting so close to me, I’ll kill your ass without thinking twice”, you spit at him from afar, Geto holding you back with all his strength.

“I love to see ya try little girl!”

“Come on, (y/n). Just turn around and leave, this is senseless. You’re just hurting each other.”

Suguru’s calm voice has always been the only thing that kept you from scratching those bright blue orbs out of his eyeballs. You allow your eyes to rest for a brief second, your heartbeat to calm down. Your family told you to stay away from him, to be better than him and forced you to attend Jujutsu High. Why does it have so damn hard to make them happy, to show your father that you’re worthy? How are you supposed to stay away from him when he’s around you all the time?

Without gifting him a single look, you turn on your heel and simply walk away.

Training. A training session is exactly what you need right now.

“Don’t you dare to shout after her, Satoru”, Geto warns his best friend right when he takes a deep breath in.

“I really don’t get it. All that hate just because your families don’t get along?”

“You don’t get it, Suguru.”

“What makes you hate (y/n) so much?”

Satoru can’t believe his ears, the sheer question of his best friend seeming like an insult. Why would he even like you? You with your stupid pretty face, you with those remarkable eyes that shook him to his core when he first saw you, you with that laugh…When was the last time he heard you laugh?

He shakes his head violently. Why would he even care about something so stupid?

“Cause she’s a Zenin brat”, Satoru replies monotone.

You are his enemy, the biggest threat of his family, hunting after his future. You deserve nothing but his hatred, nothing but disinterest. You are the devil himself. Yes, your sheer presence on this earth is enough reason to hate you.

“Didn’t you tell me she was quite nice when you met her as a child?”

“I never said that”, Satoru mumbles under his breath immediately.

Enough of all that bullshit, all that talking about your dumbass. It’s not like you deserve his attention anyway.

“C’mon, let’s grab something to eat.”

That was the first chapter babes, hope you enjoyed! It would mean the world if you take your time to tell me what you think and how you liked it so far! 🤍

Tags: @whereismysane @risuola @colouringfrogssittinginleaves @livmarauder @sapphireandange @madaqueue

[kurishiri]

02 ┊ A life worse than garbage, a thirst to live

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— jude⌛'s past records, record #2.

— cw: domestic child abuse and neglect, implied starvation.

To my father and older brother, my younger sister and I were just burdensome packages left behind by our mother.

Adverse to the mere sight of us, they pushed us to the attic more and more.

Jude’s father: Ahh, bloody hell. Ya lot worse than garbage, not bringin’ back a single pence.

Jude’s father: Better count your fortunes for not gettin’ offed and stay where ya at.

Jude: ...God dammit——

Jude’s little sister: *cough*...

Jude: Hey... you doin’ okay?

Jude’s little sister: You’re probably worse off, big brother.

Jude: *cough*... this ain’t nothin’.

Jude’s little sister: Ahaha, there ya go, acting tough.

Though we repeatedly went through high fevers and attacks, nobody reached their hand to us.

We were not even given a crumb of food, I would pilfer some leftovers from my father and brother.

But, even so, there were times when there weren’t even leftovers...

(At this rate she’s gonna die.)

I had never once stained my hands with evil that went against moral principles.

But at that point, we had no other choice.

They were notorious nobles who struck a hard bargain with the port workers with unjust wages.

I nabbed an expensive-looking pocket watch from their pockets, and ran as fast as I could.

Then, I went to pawn it.

(If I sell it, I’m sure I can get some food.)

(I gotta hurry and take this back to her.)

Pawnshop owner: This is a phoney.

Jude: Huh?

J: No way that’s true. Go n’ look at it more carefully!

Pawnshop owner: No, there is no room for doubt. It has left me in a bit of pickle, with how many bad products have been circulating these days.

Pawnshop owner: ——Even so, just how did you get your hands on this? Don’t tell me you stole it...

Jude: ...tch.

Pawnshop owner: H-hey, wait a minute!

I only stopped when I reached an alleyway.

That pocket watch turned out to be a sham that couldn’t make a single pence.

Jude: Hah... truly... what a shame...

I wanted to save my younger sister, and yet I couldn’t. I wanted to oppose, and yet I couldn’t.

(I don’t even know how to crawl out...)

There, a dog was looking at me.

Jude: The hell are ya lookin’ at, go n’ scram!

The moment I shouted, I felt a shock.

(This would make me the same as those bastards who raise their hands on those weaker than ‘em.)

My heart painted black, it deteriorated and festered.

I even envied that dog, who ran about outside.

The environment was so harsh there was no way to recover from this illness, and on top of that, the attacks would grow worse.

Both my sister and I wandered between life and death countless times.

And every time, the gazes of my father and brother would pierce through me.

——‘If only they had died,’ they thought.

And that was why I was going to die trying.

But, willpower alone could not keep a human alive.

(At this rate, she and I——will die.)

Then, one day, a single doctor arrived at the port.

I heard he was an oddball who often came to examine the workers as charity work.

And so, I took my sister to ask him in person to help.

The doctor, who introduced himself as Oswald, looked at us with a crease between his brows.

Oswald: A continuous administration is needed for your illnesses.

Jude: ‘Administration’... so you’re sayin’ it’ll cost a lot?

J: Ugh, again? It’s all money this, money that.

Jude’s little sister: Let’s go back, okay? *cough* I’m fine.

Jude: No way you’re ‘fine.’

(That’s right... once again...)

I wanted to save my younger sister, and yet I couldn’t. I wanted to oppose, and yet I couldn’t.

And yet, I had no way of knowing how to crawl out.

But, even so, if I gave up now——

I picked up a liquor bottle that had fallen on the ground, shattering it.

Then, I pointed it at the doctor before me.

Jude: I’ll give ya more in return. So give that medicine to me.

to be continued…

← prev next →

masterlist🌙 ┊ ko-fi ☕️ ┊ comms 🤍

[mychlapci]

TFA au where Megatron has last his memory after being dissected and he doesn’t know anything about autobot vs deceptcon. but he can still watch the autobots like normal and he gets a crush on optimus. there was an ask about tfa oppy having a mommy kink so maybe megatron senses a mommy quiality in him which is why he’s drawn to him. cause in Megatron’s head he’s still young and he’s scared and he needs someone to help him. and brastfeed him

... Megatron knows so very few things, in the state that he is. He knows that he’s at the mercy of an organic, that he’s helpless and he’s been abused, and one thing he’s sure of? That little autobot he sees on the news almost daily is perfect mommy material. He needs to be held in those comforting arms and be told that everything will be okay, such a shameful desire from a young warframe, who is supposed to be strong and powerful. But he clearly isn't strong or powerful right now...

i imagine in this one, he’d try to contact the autobots, or even pressure Sumdac to tell them about him. Team Prime obviously feel so fucking wrong about a Megatron who claims to know nothing about the war or who he is or what their badges mean, but in the end they just have to trust him on that. He’s especially clingy regarding Optimus, maybe even slipping up one day and admitting that he wishes he had a mouth again so he could drink from him. idk if this convinces Optimus to give him back his body or if there’s some other shenanigans that happen but when he does get his body back… to their surprise, Megatron doesn’t immediately reveal that he’s been deceiving them to get what he wants. Nah, instead he just starts pawing at Optimus’ chest… he’s a big dog who thinks he’s a puppy and by god he’s gonna crawl in his lap even if he has to crush him.

also Megatron getting his memories back over time (old databanks took a while to reboot since his resurrection) and now he’s torn between total world domination and tiny autobot titties… a while ago that would be a sure decision, but now he’s not so sure...

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Three for One 11

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, customer service abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: As a customer service associate, you’re used to work with a wide variety of characters. Your efforts to go above and beyond draw the attention of a certain set of customers who want more than what’s on the shelf.

Character: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale

Note: yall doubted me.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me 💞

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

A deep growl rolls around you. This one is beastly. Not lurid or lusty. Your head dangles over Andy’s arm as he carries you into the bedroom, stalling as Ernie snarls at his entrance. You whimper as your body thrums from head to toe.

“Shhh,” Andy hushes, both you and the dog. He lowers you onto the mattress as Ernie’s rumble deepens. “Honey,” he pets your forehead, “you did so good.”

You turn your head, staring at the wall. Disgusted with him but just as repulsed by yourself. The tenderness tingling between your legs stains you with shame. As much as you detested every violation, every intrusion, you enjoyed it all the same. Your body delighted in it and even then, you feel that empty longing clenching inside of you.

“You just need to get cleaned up,” he looms over you as Ernie growls.

“Puppy…” you murmur and wave your hands senselessly.

Ernie lets out a soft boof and the bed jolts as he jumps onto it. He sniffs you as he jostles you and lays against you, licking your arm with his warm, rough tongue. It’s soothing. You turn and embrace him, shuddering as the afterglow fades to humiliation.

“Let me take care of you,” Andy intones.

His shadow hovers around the room and his footsteps fade into the distortion of your new reality. That fog of disbelief returns, thicker than before. That first night when you couldn’t fathom the absurdity of it all can’t compare to the haze that consumes you then. After all they’ve done, your only shield is denial. 

It didn’t happen. You didn't just let them do all that. You didn’t crawl around and obey them like an animal. No. No. You’ve been in here this whole time, it’s only a bad nightmare.

You squeeze your eyes shut and whine. Ernie lays his head down next to yours. It’s just you and your puppy. You’re safe. He’s safe. That’s what matters. When you took him in, you took on the duty of protecting him. 

That’s how it should be when you take someone in. When you promise to take care of them. That’s not how it always goes, though. You know that better than anyone.

You quiver as you remember the nights in the group home. Scared and alone. Even with the other kids, you were never really wanted, never accepted. You had no one to talk to, no one to help you.

Those days are far behind you… but the feelings creep back in. You thought you were stronger now. You’re just as weak as you were then.

The noise of water pouring down splices through your daze. You shift onto your back as Ernie’s hot breaths puff over your shoulder. You move, just a little, and give up as the effort tinges in your muscles.

Andy returns, a fuzzy silhouette over you, as he takes you by the arm and sits you up. Ernie bristles and you flutter your hand behind you. That’s the one thing you couldn’t handle; him getting hurt. He licks your palm as you feel the tension of his body through the mattress. He knows it’s all wrong but he’s a good boy and he’ll listen to you.

Andy lifts you from the bed again, this time with his arm across your back as he makes you stand. He walks you around into the bathroom. He sits you on the open toilet and you hang your head.

“Honey, you should… go, it will help,” he girds, “you don’t want an infection, huh?”

“Leave me alone,” you babble and cover your face with your hand.

“I have the bath running for you, sweetie,” he coos and steps away, “I’ll add some bubbles.”

You shakily lift your head and watch his back as he goes to the tub. He uncaps a bottle with a click and you fold over your lap. The pressure in your core begins to burn. A ripple flows through you as your bladder releases. The trick of your urine on the porcelains adds to your shame.

You grab toilet paper to wipe yourself, hissing at the touch of the tissue. You drop it into the bowl and sit up. You shake as Andy returns to you and takes off the stockings. You’re completely naked. He scoops you up entirely and lowers you into the tub, the water lapping up higher and higher around you.

“Did you like your presents?” Andy asks as he turns. He takes a stool from beside the counter and unfolds it, sitting on the other side of the tub wall.

You stare at the tiled wall as the hot water sears your oversensitive skin. You can feel the pearls dangling from your ears, a reminder of their game. You reach to the jewelry and he catches your hand.

“Those are really pretty on you,” Andy hums, “not that you need help.”

You slip your hand free of his and drop it back into the water. Your eyes singe. His betrayal is worse than anything else. He said he would keep you safe. That he wouldn’t let them hurt you but all you can think of is how much he hurt you.

Andy stirs the water with his fingers as the bubbles foam over the top. The smell of fake vanilla wafts in the air. You lean your head back and look at the ceiling. You hate him more than the others. He’s a liar. For all their faults, the others don’t hide what they are.

“You can just relax until dinner,” he coaxes as he touches your chest, “recover…”

You hear claws tapping and look over as Ernie fills the open doorway. He sits, staring intently at you. Maybe you should have them take him to a shelter… you can’t take care of him here. Not like you should. Your eyes sting and you look away. No, he doesn’t deserve that either. You’ve failed him.

With no response, Andy doesn’t say another word. For a while, he touches you, soft, almost curious touches, then he stands. You peek up as he undresses and the world shifts as he moves you from against the porcelain. He steps in behind you and eases down into the tub, pulling you over him as he reclines.

The intimacy of that moment churns in your stomach. It’s how he acts like this is all normal, like there’s anything more than there is. This isn’t a relationship, this isn’t a utopia he’s built for you, he’s using you. Just like those other two.

“You’re so precious, sweetie,” he frames your face and kisses the crown of your head, “so… beautiful.” 

His hands trail down your neck and chest. He fondles your tits as your body locks up. Ernie snorts and treads closer. Your head drifts to the side and you stare at him. His jowls curl up with unease. You hush him. He huffs and circles around, once, twice, then lays on the bathmat.

“He loves you,” Andy comments as his hands continue to explore, “that’s sweet. You must be really good to him.”

You sniff and swallow down your horror. You don’t want to hear him. You want him to go away, to leave you to wallow in his desecration. You reach up and catch his hand, trying to pull it off your stomach. He resists, far too easily for your comfort.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?”

You shift, the water sifting around your bodies. You feel the twitch beneath your back. Despite everything, he’s getting hard again. You are sickened by his insatiable appetite.

“Just relax,” he coaxed as he tickles your sides, “soak up the heat and then we’ll lay down, huh? Get some snuggles in. I got a turkey in the oven–”

“Shut up,” you snip, surprising even yourself.

“Honey,” he rebukes, “don’t talk like that. It’s Christmas.”

Your lips trembles and you take a deep breath. You notice how his hand braces your hip firmly. You gulp and try to ease the knots in your muscles.

“Sorry,” you eke out and let his hand go.

“It’s okay, sweetie,” he releases your hip and instead tickles the bottom of your stomach, “I know you’re a good girl.”

You close your eyes and grit your teeth. You’re not good, you’re scared.

❄️

Andy puts you in a pair of fuzzy pajamas. A crop top and short shorts. Everything is designed to keep you a display. He lays you down in the bed and you lay there, paralysed. You’re trapped in this room, in your own body, with no way out.

Ernie lays at the foot of the bed as Andy leaves. You stare at the door and wonder. Is that it? For how long?

When the door opens again, you tear your eyes away. Andy carries in a basket and sets it on the side of the bed. He starts to unpack the contents; the gifts. You recoil in disgust and cross your arms.

He hangs the new sweaters and puts the new pieces of jewelry in the box on the vanity. He sorts out the perfumes and lotions and other toiletries and takes them into the bathroom. You curl your lip and fall onto your back.

You can’t just roll over and give up. You’ve been through stuff before. You can do more. This is only the first day and you saw the cracks. Right now, it’s three against one, but the three is very close to dissembling.

The plan. Whatever it is they keep going on about, it’s going to fall apart. It has to. All they do is bicker. You see their hate, you just need to needle away at it.

You sit up and take a deep breath. When Andy comes back in, he seems surprised. You look at him and smile. You worked in retail for years, you can play the role he wants.

“Honey,” you get to your knees, ignoring the sensitivity between your legs, “do I have to stay in here?”

He looks at the door then back to you, “well, I…”

“You said you had a turkey cooking. I could help with dinner,” you offer with a flutter of your lashes.

“Sweetie, are you okay?” He asks.

“Yes,” you say, “I… Ernie’s too big to be locked in here.”

He glances at the dog and frowns, “yeah, I guess.”

“And he’ll need to go pee soon,” you insist, “Andy, I know you have a son. Ernie’s like that to me. I just want to make sure he’s okay.”

Andy flinches, “...I know.”

“You’re a dad, you must be a really good one,” you come to the edge of the bed and sit on your knees, “you said you’d take care of me.”

“I will,” he crosses his arms. 

“So, you need to help me take care of my puppy,” you pout, “right?”

He lowers his chin and drops his hands to his hips. He exhales as he pokes his cheek with his tongue, “I guess.” He looks up slowly, “it’s sweet that you care so much about him,” he treads closer, “you’d be a good mom.”

You blink. You hope he isn’t implying anything, “I already am. Ernie’s just like a kid.”

“Well, yeah, I know that but…” he sits on the bed beside you, his eyes roving up and down, “once you’re all settled… we could… talk.”

Oh. Okay. He really is nuts. 

“Maybe then,” you reach to his hand. “I could really use a hot chocolate, I could make some for all of you. Or coffee?”

He smiles and the rigidness leaves his shoulders, “how did I find someone so sweet, huh?”

You squeeze his hand and cautiously stand, “how did I get so lucky?”

He rises with you and Ernie drags himself off the floor. You outstretch your other arm to the dog in an effort to keep him calm. He’s probably just as scared as you.

You walk with Andy to the door and he lets you go to unlock the door with the key. You wait patiently as you latch onto Ernie’s collar. You know he’ll try to bolt, he’s restless.

Andy steps back and lets you out first. You walk with the dog calmly down the hallway. You stop at the impasse of the two doorways.

“Can I put him in the front room? He’ll only mooch in the kitchen?” You ask.

“Should we grab his leash?” Andy asks.

“He’ll be good,” you promise.

“Alright, go then.”

You tug Ernie with you into the front room. You let go of his collar and scratch his head. As you enter, Ransom sprawls over the sectional, lazily thumbing at a tablet. He peers over and sits up as he sees the dog.

“Shit! How did you–”

“He won’t bug you,” you insist as you turn to Ernie, “Ern, be nice. Lay down.”

You point to the floor and the Saint Bernard dips his head. He circles and obeys. You give him a ‘good boy’ and turn to Ransom as he narrows his eyes at the dog.

“Mmm, damn, why don’t you call me a good boy, baby?” Lloyd startles you as he struts in from the other doorway.

“I… did you want hot chocolate? Or coffee?” You ask.

“Whatsa matter with you? Cock hungry again?” Lloyd snorts.

You wince, “it’s Christmas.”

“Oh, damn, she’s got stamina,” Lloyd snickers, “I didn’t think you’d be back on your feet again so fast. Maybe on your back…”

“I’ll have coffee,” Ransom slides up to lean against the armrest and rolls his shoulders with a groan, “I’m stiff as fuck.”

“Me too, but coffee won’t do much for it,” Lloyd sneers as he rubs the front of his pants.

“I’ll put a pot on,” you say and try to side step Lloyd.

“I’d love something warm,” he catches you by the throat, “I could just drink you up, sweet cheeks.”

He flicks his tongue at you and you struggle to hold your smile. You can do it. You’ve made it through how many Black Fridays?

“That will wake you up, Hugh–”

“Don’t call me fucking Hugh,” Ransom snaps back.

The tension is cut with a sharp ahem. You glance past Lloyd as Andy lurks in the doorway. Lloyd retracts his hand and wiggles his fingers. You let your breath out.

“Do you want coffee or not?” Andy grits out.

“Dark roast,” Lloyd gestures derisively as he spins on his heel, “maybe you numbnuts needa drop a blue pill into yours but I’ll take mine black.”

“Fuck off, Hansen,” Ransom mutters.

“What? I’m just saying, if you can’t keep up, I got enough to give her a merry christmas.”

“Talk, talk, talk,” Ransom rolls his eyes.

“Come on, sweetie,” Andy offers his hand,“let’s go get that hot chocolate.”

“Fucking cuck,” Lloyd sneers under his breath.

Andy sighs and you take his hand.

“Sounds yummy,” you chime as you lead him out.

[urmomspersonalwhore]

Icing to a Cake

MINORS DNI

-Rumi/Reader, NSFW, cunnilingus, strap use, lingerie, slight degrading, etc…

“Such a pretty doll for me.”

Kinktober 5

It was late at night, and you were craving attention from your wife. She had been in her office, working at the headquarters. You were attempting to sleep but failed, so you flipped your body. Getting up and changing into a beautiful white lace lingerie. Walking back to the bedside table, you grabbed your phone. Snapping some pics of yourself in the mirror, sending it to the rabbit hero alongside some texts;

“Miss you” and “Come Home soon”

Her phone lit up from a notification, the Rabbit’s red hues glancing at it. She moved her hand away from the computer and to the device, she opened her messages. Pupils are being blown out, eyes intensely scanning the photos. She always adored lingerie, it was like icing to a cake she said

You saw the bubble pop up, and then disappear. This happened at least 3 times, until she typed, “Be a princess and wait for me.” a blush crawled through your cheeks, and you got comfortable on the bed.

It wasn't long before you heard the shuffle of keys and the door being closed.

Mirko walks into the room, pupils blown out as her red eyes scan your body up and down. She walked towards you, getting on the bed as she crawled.

Once her body towered over you, her hands forcefully separated your thighs, glaring at the dark patch at the center of the beautiful laced underwear. She looked up at you with her fangs flashing a pearly white smile.

“My good girl, I'll reward you for being so patient.”

She flipped you over onto your stomach, hands on your hips to have your ass up in the air. Despite it being called a reward, she drew a smack to them, soon after soothing it with her hand.

You hadn't even notice that she had put on her strap, so when she rubbed it against your dripping folds, you had made a small Yelp of suprise. The rabbit hero didn’t even wait for you to adjust and already started pounding into your cunt. She grunted into your ear, slapping your ass from to time.

“Such a pretty doll for me.” Rumi managed to say between groans, her hands holding your hips. You erupted a loud sob, her cock hitting a sweet spot of yours. Tears streamed down your face from her abuse. It wasn’t long before you came, she panted like a dog in heat. Flipping you back onto your spine and trailed kisses down to your wet pussy. The rabbit lifted your thighs to rest on her shoulders as she began to lick every drop possible. She hummed at the delightful taste, getting up as she smiled. A bit of cum dripping from her chin,

“Want another round?”

©urmomspersonalwhore — please do not copy, repost or translate onto any other platforms without my permission.

[officialaemondtargaryen]

Fall In Love With A Girl

❝she'll make you feel like the world is on your shoulder.❞

Summary: What can go wrong, will go wrong. That is until you meet the most beautiful woman you've ever seen and her brother's puppy.

Pairing: Modern Helaena Targaryen x Reader

Word Count: ~3.3k

Author’s Note: This is a re-write of an old fic of mine. I'm in my re-writing era and this is Megan's Version. I felt like this would be the perfect time to remind everyone that I love women.

Warnings: language, fluff, women loving women (if you are against this unfollow me?)

There were certain rules to being a veterinary technician.

Number one, waterproof mascara and eyeliner always; you’ll never get used to those abuse cases or having to hold someone’s hand as they say goodbye to their beloved pet. Number two, carry a lint roller on you at all times; it’s best to get the pocket-sized one, because both dogs and cats shed a lot! Especially Bella the Saint Bernard who was due for her yearly check up today. Number three, iron your scrubs! And it’s probably best to keep an extra pair in your car, because it’s more likely than not that you’ll end up getting peed on by someone’s over-excited pup.

Even though you knew these rules by heart and you followed them every single day of your work life, today was an exception. It was just one of those days that absolutely nothing- no matter how hard you tried- was going right. You were covered in fluffy cat hairs, Mrs. Comier’s Jack Russell, Hankie, peed on your leg twice, and you had run out of waterproof mascara. So, when Mr. Langley brought in his thirteen year old Labrador to put her down, he cried and so you cried, and in the end you looked like the raccoon that liked to sneak into the office dumpsters at closing hoping to find some cat food.

Today just wasn’t your day.

It was fifteen minutes until closing time, and you could feel the excitement and exhaustion in your bones. You were desperate for rest, to go home and take a shower, crawl in bed and watch terribly written romantic comedies on Netflix until you passed out. If only you could snap your fingers and make those last few minutes fly by, but that was impossible and unfortunately manipulating time wasn’t a superpower you had acquired yet, so instead you swept and mopped the floors for the sixth time that day.

And that was when you heard it. 

The tiny bell over the door chimed, signaling that a customer had just walked in and you could hear the pitter-patter of doggie feet on the linoleum floors. As far as you knew, there weren’t any more customers scheduled for the day; the last appointment was over thirty minutes ago and they were a no-show. From your spot in the back hallway, you could hear your coworker, talking to the patient and before you knew it, she was charging through the back door. You took one look at her, knowing what her question would be before she even opened her mouth. That shit-eating-grin was always plastered on her face when she wanted something. 

“No,” you said as you swept the dirt into the dustpan.

“Come on, bestie,” she whined. “I really need to get out of here on time tonight! It’s just a simple check-up and she seems really nice! Please will you take them?” 

Not wanting to argue or cause an issue, you sighed, exhaling every ounce of oxygen in your lungs before finally giving in. She was practically beaming with excitement as your shoulders slumped, eyes rolling back as you sat the broom down. 

“Oh, my God! Thank you so much! I owe you, big time,” she went to hug you but you stepped to the side, avoiding her embrace at all costs. 

You simply nod at your coworker as you try to dust some of the cat hairs from your scrubs. It was no use, and you knew that, but still, you at least tried to look more professional. After the day you’ve had, you should have known that clocking out on time was just too good to be true, but you still put a smile on your face as you walked up to the front desk. One day you’d cash in on all of the times she owed you for, but today wasn’t that day. Everything that could have gone wrong today had already gone wrong, and at this point you were only giving in to her for the plot. What else could possibly happen? 

When you got to the front desk, you looked over the counter to see the customer on one knee as she played with the tiny puppy; rubbing its belly and tickling its sides. 

“How can I help you?” You asked with that fake customer service voice.

The young woman turned around and looked up at you, flashing one of the most brilliant smiles you had ever seen, and you could have sworn that a chorus of angels were singing in the background– or maybe it was just the classical music on the radio that your boss liked to play, who knows? She was absolutely stunning though, with her pale blonde hair and striking lavender eyes. 

“Hey, uh- I had an appointment for this little guy,” she replied with a soft smile as she moved to stand.

“Okay,” you nodded, trying to remember to breathe. You could smell her perfume as she took a step up to the counter. “What’s this little guy’s name?” 

“His name is Sunfyre.”

“Oh,” you realized that this was that no-show appointment that should have been here thirty minutes ago. It was then that you looked right past her good looks and lilac scented perfume and let the irritation settle back in. “You’re Mr. Targaryen? You had an appointment with us at 5:00.”

The woman rubbed a hand on the back of her neck and gave you a sheepish smile.

“Not Mr. Targaryen, that’s my brother. I’m Helaena,” then she lets out a sigh. “He’s out of town and forgot to mention that I needed to be here until ten minutes before I was supposed to be here and then there was traffic, and I’m really sorry that I’m late. I hope I can still get him in, I mean, if that’s okay. If it’s too late then I’ll just make another appointment, I guess”

Your eyes widened as she rambled on and then you smiled at her. If it were anyone else, you probably would have told them to make another appointment and kick rocks. But this girl was just so gorgeous and her smile was just so beautiful, and your hopes of getting home on time were already sacked, so you led her back to the exam room and told her that it was no problem.

“Hopefully this doesn’t take too long,” she mentioned as she picked Sunfyre up and sat him on the table. 

Wait, was she actually rushing you?

“I’ve got this stupid thing I’m supposed to go to tonight,” she continued as you checked the puppy’s weight.

She really was rushing you.

“It’s a blind date that Aegon, uh-”

Before she could say ‘Mr. Targaryen’, you nodded your head to let her know that you understood who she was talking about. 

“Yeah,” Helaena kept on, not really caring that you weren’t really listening. “He set it up and I’m just nervous. I’ve never really been on a date- well, I’ve been on dates, but never a blind one. With the way this day has been going, he’ll probably end up being an alien with six eyes.”

“I know how you feel,” you mumbled under your breath.

“What’s that?” She asked.

“Oh, I just agreed with you,” you replied, not really wanting to go into details about your day with a girl who was about to go on a blind date and probably fall in love with someone that wasn’t the vet tech with a piss stain on her leg. Besides, her blind date was with a man which meant your chances were pretty much shot. “About the way this day has been going.”

“You’ve had a bad day, too?”

“I’m going to let Dr. Strong know you’re ready and we’ll try to get you out of here as soon as possible,” you say, ignoring her question. 

“Oh, okay. Thanks,” she replied as you shuffled out of the exam room.

Your boss looked up at you from his desk and raised his eyebrows underneath his glasses. You said nothing and only dropped the puppy’s chart on his desk with a thud, before turning back around and heading into the back hallway. You could hear that Helaena girl sweet talking the pup from behind the door and your expression softened for a moment. But that was only until you glanced at the clock and saw that it was well past closing time, and you should’ve been walking through your front door right now; maneuvering out of your bra and kicking off your non-slip, worn out tennis shoes. Your frown came right back as you looked over the front desk, making sure everything was in order before your boss eventually called you in for an extra hand. 

You sighed as you saw that your coworker had bailed on stamping the outgoing bill statements, a job which was tedious and tiring, and usually ended in cramped hands and sticky fingertips. With a soft groan, you sat down, flexing your toes in your shoes and tried to quickly stamp as many envelopes as you could.

“Hey, kiddo,” Dr. Strong called from somewhere within the office. “Can you lend me a hand for a moment?”

You stood up and tossed the envelopes in the mailing bin before heading towards the back hallway. 

“What’s up, doc?” You asked with a forced grin as you tried to lighten the mood. Your boss, Harwin, had been under constant stress ever since his partner veterinarian, Dr. Tully, quit the practice to focus on his family. 

“Can you draw me up 1cc of Nobivac?” He asked as he scribbled something down in the chart in front of him. “And I’m going to need you in the room when I administer it, there’s a note in the little guy’s chart that says he’s not very good with shots.”

“Yes, sir,” you replied as you pulled the keys to the medical cabinet out of the front pocket of your scrubs.

Helaena smiled at you when you entered the exam room once again. The puppy in her hands jumped in your direction, tail wagging from side to side as he whined for attention. “I think he likes you,” the girl commented as she tried to hold the puppy back. 

“That’s nice,” you replied with a soft smile, not really wanting to make small talk with Ms. I-Have-A-Blind-Date-Can-You-Hurry-Up. “But he’s probably not going to like me very much after getting poked.”

“Probably not,” Helaena laughed. You couldn’t help but feel a little light-headed at the sight of her smile, despite your tough facade. The sound of her laugh was just as attractive, if not more so. “But who knows, maybe he’ll forgive you.”

Dr. Strong stepped into the room, cutting your conversation short to begin his own spiel; informing Sunfyre’s short term owner of the possible side effects of the rabies vaccine, and also why it is important to have one. Information that, hopefully, Helaena would pass on to the absent Mr. Targaryen.

While your boss prepped the puppy for his first rabies shot, your job was to try and distract the little guy as much as possible and to keep him comfortable, of course. Helaena stood off to the side, letting the two of you work your magic, and within seconds- without even so much as a yelp- the procedure was finished and Sunfyre’s tail was still wagging. 

“All done,” you cooed, placing a kiss on the puppy’s wet nose. 

“Looks like he still likes you,” Helaena said as she hooked Sunfyre’s leash back to his collar. “I had a feeling he would.”

You went to say something, but Dr. Strong got there first, sticking his hand out to Helaena for a handshake and saying, “It was nice to meet you. Please tell Mr. Targaryan that we look forward to seeing him at the next visit, which you can coordinate at the front desk.”

“Thank you,” she replied. “I’ll be sure to let him know.”

“You can follow me, this way,” you told her, ushering her and Sunfyre out of the exam room and into the lobby. “That’ll be $115,” you told her after tallying up the total sum of the visit. 

She let out a low whistle and pulled her wallet from her back pocket, “is there any way to leave a tip for your excellent customer service?”

You let out a dry laugh, and bit the inside of your cheek to keep from saying something that would get you in trouble. “While I appreciate the offer, you should probably save it for your date tonight.” 

“Date?” She asked as she signed the credit card receipt. “Shit, right, my date!” She exclaimed, thrusting the tiny piece of paper your way. “I gotta go!”

You made a face and hurriedly handed her a copy of the bill and a rabies tag for Sunfyre. 

“Good luck,” you told her as she rushed out the front door. “And you're welcome,” you said with a frown after she didn’t even say ‘thank you’. 

Happy that your day was finally over, you couldn’t help but feel like you had just been kicked in the gut. As you finished stamping the monthly statements, your mind was stuck on what Helaena and her blind date– who may or may not be an alien with six eyes– were doing right now. Was he smart? Was he making her laugh? Did he appreciate how absolutely breathtaking her smile was? Did she see him and immediately know that he was the one she had been searching for? Did time stop?

“Hey,” you heard Dr. Strong’s voice from behind you and realized that you had been standing in the same spot for minutes now, holding a stack of envelopes that you had meant to drop into the bin. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you replied as you came back to reality.

“Don’t forget you’re fostering Nugget tonight to make sure that he doesn’t pull out his stitches,” he told you before disappearing back into the hallway. 

“Ah, yes, Nugget,” you replied, mostly to yourself, as you were sure your boss was out of earshot. “The overweight Chihuahua who looks like he ate one, too many nuggets. I couldn’t be more excited.”

After you locked up and had Nugget on a leash, you said your goodbyes to your boss; happy as ever that- even though it was well after dark- you were finally going home. You picked the chunky Chihuahua up, making sure not to touch his freshly removed manhood and placed him in the backseat, where he quickly made a home. Before you even pulled your seatbelt on, you pulled your hair out of its ponytail and ran your fingers over your tender scalp. It was the first step to comfort after what you were sure was the worst days you might have ever had. You’d take your shoes off if you could,, but you were sure there was some crazy law about driving barefoot, so you left them on.

Nugget stayed quiet for most of the way, until he unexpectedly started to whine. Thinking that he might need to go potty, you pulled over into the parking lot of an ice cream parlor. He hopped out of your backseat gingerly, and led you over to the grassy area where he proceeded to squat and relieve himself. 

“Fancy meeting you here,” you heard from across the parking lot and turned to see none other than Mrs. Blind Date herself, Helaena. Just when you thought this day was starting to get better, she began walking toward you with Sunfyre in tow.

“Oh, hi,” you replied, cautiously looking around for the hot shot that would inevitably be introduced as her date. You didn’t want to ask, but curiosity got the best of you and, “how was your date?”

“Well, I was supposed to meet him here and he never showed,” she replied, looking a bit dejected. “I’m honestly not surprised at all. I mean, if you knew my brother, you probably wouldn’t be surprised either. Besides, what else should one expect from a man?” You laughed at that. “I was just about to leave, but then I saw you, and figured I’d say hello.”

You bit your lip to keep from smiling again at her rambling, unable to help yourself when you heard that there was no date, and that this extremely attractive stranger was somehow still single. “Well, hello.”

Helaena smiled brightly before taking notice of Nugget, who was shaking at the thought of being petted by someone new, and dropped down to a knee so that she could reach him. “Who’s this little chunker?”

“This is Nugget,” you replied. “I’m fostering him for the night.”

“Fitting name,” she laughed, standing back to her regular height. “So, can I buy you an ice cream? I don’t think I said thanks before I ran out of your office earlier and I’d like to make it up to you.”

“Sure,” you replied quickly before you gave yourself a chance to say no. “I mean, yeah, that would be nice.”

Helaena smiled as you fell in step with each other, making your way to the front of the booth. Sunfyre and Nugget were playing with each other; romping around and playing together; putting you and Helaena into a few awkward positions as you had to unwrap their leashes from around each other’s legs. You learned that she was an artist, mostly oil paintings and photography, who lived on the quiet side of the city with Aegon, her brother. And you told her all about your bad day, and what it was like working in a veterinary office, and some of your funny stories from college. 

Before you could even eat three bites of your ice cream, Nugget had coerced you into giving him most of it; which probably wasn’t what his actual owners intended for him to eat after his surgery. Helaena didn’t mind that the ice cream she had bought for you went to satisfying a fat Chihuahua’s sweet tooth, especially not when most of her own ice cream was being lapped up by little Sunfyre.

“Well, I should get home,” you told her after seeing the neon ‘open’ sign of the parlor shut off. “It’s getting late.” 

She nodded, standing up from the bench that you had been sitting on, “It was really nice running into you.”

“I agree,” you replied with a smile. 

“If you’d like to, maybe I can take you to dinner next?” She asked as she nervously ran a hand through her hair. You blinked a few times, wondering if you had heard her correctly or if it was your mind playing tricks on you. “You don’t have to.”

“I’d like to go to dinner with you,” you told her quickly and honestly. 

“Really?” She asked excitedly. “I mean, that’s cool.”

“Should we?” You asked, taking out your phone to swap numbers and she laughed.

“That’s probably a good idea.”

You repeated the numbers twice to make sure she typed in the right ones, and after an awkward hug that seemed like it was almost a kiss on the cheek, you and Nugget happily walked back to your car. As soon as the driver’s side door was shut, you let out a joyous squeal and did a small dance in your seat. Your phone vibrated from the cup holder as you shifted into gear. You picked it up quickly and swiped at the screen until an unsaved number popped up on your screen. Your heart soared at the message that could only have been from one person.

212-555-6789

That was the best blind date ever! ;)

[ganondoodle]

actively fighting a full blown panic attack born out of sadness and anger after having to drive by yet another victim on the side of the road

it makes me livid how accepted it is to just let cats suffer and die disgustingly horrid deaths and live awful short lives just so what, for what?? so you dont have to play with them for an hour a day??? when i was little it was just kinda normal that they disappeared at some point, i didnt understand what it actually meant until our outdoor cat i loved dearly was found in the bushes near our house in a condition so horrible my dad has never told me and i have never dared to ask, she only made it to 6 and had horrible scars and infections before that i allowed my family to convince me to let my first own cat outside, we only had her for a year, she died at only 2 years old, i am still suffering from the guilt, it has never let me go, she went missing for a week and i walked the entire vilage up and down every day, yelling her name, wandering into the forest alone, talking to every stranger i met until one morning my mom told me that our neighbour who works for the city asked if we had a white cat with a very specific collar she had- he found her on a busy road crossing in the next bigger city, i never even got to bury her, its haunting me, the thought of her wandering lost and scared in the city for a week until meeting an awful end gives me headaches, the fact that i was the last one to see her alive, that i put her outside bc we were late for school and had to leave quickly, that she had come home with oil in her fur from crawling through maschines and cars before, that i was worried but still didnt act, that it is my fault, any time i am up to late its coming back, it will never let me go, if i had stood my ground and not allow her outside unless on a leash or similar shed still be alive today, any time i read a description at our local shelter it comes back, they still advocate for outside cats, all of them, even if they have only been an indoor one before, its madness my older sister had a cat, i dont even know how old he got but it wasnt long either, he got hit by a car in front of their house, she has two now again and the only reason she hasnt let them outside is because they havent shown much interest in it, i tried to warn her before and she didnt listen and shes still resistent, even after losing one too

i have seen so many on the side of the road, anywhere i drive i see them, i cannot forget a single one, we are surrounded by farm land and all its giant maschinery, its still common to poison rodents, why do people value them so little, you wouldnt let your dog just live outside in the woods and streets for half the day or more, you wouldnt just throw your guniea pigs on the road and tell them have fun, you wouldnt just let your bird roam outside, there probably assholes that do that too but you cannot tell me its as common as outside cats

i dont understand it, i dont, i wont, i never will, i will never forgive myself this poor little animal that was my responsibility having to pay the price of my ignorance, or my own weakness letting my family convince me despite the awful way we lost one before, it makes me want to explode it hurts my brain in grief and anger i can barely contain

cats deserve to live a safe and long life, i get only having them inside may feel like you are locking them up, but do you think that not doing so is worth having them die a painful death? being poisonend? on purpose even by disgusting people that hate them? abused and chased by other animals and dogs? hurt and lost? cutting their lifespan in half? if they even make it that far? the amount of wildlife that they kill unnecessarily so when all of that is already in a steep decline everywhere? and if they eat what they hunt get infected with diseases or again, poison? die somewhere in agony? if cared for they dont care about going outside, plenty can be leash trained or given a secure way to roam like those cat proof aviary like things, if you dont want to put effort into caring for a cat DONT GET ONE, ALL pets require adequate care, and if you think cats are the easiest bc you only have to feed them every now and then IF they come home? you suck, you are an asshole, i hate you and you do not care about them, if you just want to occasionalyl feed and pet an animal go to the petting zoo

(this is about pet cats of people who can absolutely afford to keep them healthily inside, i know feral cats and those in poor neighbourhoods are a thing, even if not here where i live, and thats a whole other but still similar problem and not the point of this post)

[shes4twnksinatrnchct]

New Friends

Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Words: 2k (oneshot)

Summary: After breaking up with Jake, you realize that perhaps the freedom of his grueling schedule—and the strain it placed on your relationship—isn’t all what you dreamed it would be.

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, explicit language, arguing (yelling/screaming), angst, explicit sexual situations (quickie, p in v, voyeurism if you squint), alcohol abuse, depression

***Inspired by the song “New Friends” by Lainey Wilson

It’s an annoying thump—one that you can’t tell is from the sheet of rain hounding down onto the roof of your house, or from tail wagging on the dog in the bed next to you.

Opening your eyes, you look around the gloomy room, just as downtrodden and nauseatingly void of light as you feel. 

Your nose stings, the lump forming in your throat as you recall for the ninetieth day in a row that he’s not here anymore. 

Surprised that you made it to the bed in the middle of your own party last night, you sniffle back the guilt and drag yourself from the bed. 

The floor rattles when four paws crash onto it, beating you to the bedroom door. 

You don’t even bother assessing the damage in your living room…you know there’s more strewn out photo albums that’s home to pictures of him that you’ve been cursing every night, broken drink glasses that you’ve thrown at his record player he refuses to come retrieve, and whiskey stains soaked into the carpet from stumbling on your own feet while dancing to Neil Young—or was it Bob Dylan? 

Unable to recall, you open the back door and let the dog run as free as they want to run in the rain…

…The rain overtakes the sound of silence that’s fallen between the two of you, your voices raw from shouting.

“If you would just come with me, y/n, this would—”

“--I go with you! I run all over the fucking Earth with you, and I’m miserable! I want to be at home, in my own bed, with my boyfrie–”

“--I don’t want to be at home!” He exclaims over you. “I told you that when we started dating! I love what I do, I love performing, I love being on the road!” 

You blink at him, your voice shaking with the quiver in your throat while you say, “You love being away from me.” 

“What?” He furrows his thick brows, disgusted with the idea of you even thinking such a thing. 

“You live for it! Because when I’m not there all those girls who’d crawl across glass to get even half of a second of your attention—”

“---Oh, for fuck’s sake, y/n, gimme a bre—”

“---Can track you down and drop to their goddamn knees!” You outburst, the image of all those pretty, slobbering girls looking up at him like a God every night practically stamped onto your brain by this point.

“Just because you did it, doesn’t mean anybody else is!” He throws at you, reminding you very thoroughly of how you two even met to begin with. 

You take in a breath, eyeing him bitterly before nodding slowly, mentally throwing all of his shit in a box and strewing it out in the yard.

“It doesn’t matter who's getting on their knees, or bending over a sink, or laying on their back, or standing on their goddamn head for you!” You laugh humorlessly. “I just know it’s not gonna be me, anymore.” 

Jake rolls his jaw, deciding your words are a result of perhaps too much to drink, fogging your mind and striking an overreaction. 

But you’re far more sober now than when he first arrived back home only a few hours ago before receiving a phone call that a last-minute festival had been scheduled for the day following tomorrow. 

And of course he was okay with it. 

Anything to get another chance to be away from you…or so you thought. 

“Baby,” He starts quietly, guilt yanking at him while he outstretches a hand to you, that you dart away from. 

“No.” You declare, knowing he’s a walking trap. 

His tired eyes still manage to lull your anger, turning it into a hopeless frustration that pours out with your tears.

“You go have fun with whatever unwashed hippie you find at that festival, and I’ll have all your shit neatly waiting for you when you get back.” You assure him harshly, stepping to the bedroom the two of you share. 

Your dog picks their head up, quickly feeling the anger reeling from the both of you, and stepping out of the way to go settle in the closet away from the noise. 

“I don’t want anybody else, y/n.” He tells you, hot on your heels as you start gathering laundry baskets to sift through his dirty clothes from tour so you can wash them and get them folded—and packed away. “Do you hear me?!” He raises his voice, snatching his jeans from your hands and throwing them down to the floor. 

“We’re in Nashville. I can find another guitar player ten steps down the road, Jake.” You spitefully dig at him, marching out of the room toward the front door of the home. 

His hands grab your arms, forcing you to turn and look at him when you reach the foyer. 

It’s all bullshit, and you both know it is when you add, “Yeah. You fuck who you want to while you’re on the road, and I fuck who I want to while you’re on the road, too.” 

His jaw clenches while your words completely strip him of anything he might have to argue back with—too infuriated with the thought of you thinking he’d ever cheat on you, and the idea of you cheating on him. “We’re. Done.” You grit out in a hiss, nose to nose with him, your eyes bearing into his as you speak it sternly. “Do you hear me?” 

You’re rendered breathless in a matter of moments, unable to recall how exactly the two of you ended up tangled together in front of the entryway table in front of the door—with no thought of how the silhouettes of your bodies may appear through the frosted glass of the window in your front door.  

Apparently neither of you are done enough with one another not to do this, all desperate hands and needy tongues, threading together so naturally that it almost reminds you why you tolerate his absence so much…almost. 

“Oh,” You whimper out from the back of your throat at the feeling of him thrusting into you, stretching you out with lack of leeway after turning you around and bending you over the table of home decor that scatters by him doing so. 

Despite the discomfort, you arch your back, tightening around him, pulling him deeper into you while you sever your lip between your teeth. 

“You would be turned on right now.” He mumbles in your ear at the feeling of your slick walls hugging him. 

He’s panting, his jaw slack and a groan being strangled from him at the feeling of you wrapped around him, looking down at your lace panties pushed aside before his eyes look in front of the two of you in the wall mirror you’re both staring into. 

Pausing momentarily, there’s a sadness that falls around the two of you that neither wants to dwell on, so it’s quickly returned to anger and spite in the form of him grabbing at your throat and you clawing at the back of his hand, moving against him as he picks up his pace between your spread thighs while your tip-toes struggle to stay on the floor. 

He holds onto every note you moan, scream, and whisper out to him, knowing this is the last time the two of you will be doing this, savoring your soft skin, the feeling of your hips in his hands.  

Its rushed and sloppy, the head of his cock easily seeking out just where you need him to be after practically worshipping your pussy for three years, now. 

You damn near crawl up the wall when he starts hammering into you, his brows scrunching as he watches your face shift in the mirror to utter bliss. 

“Jake,” It’s strangled and breathy, spilling from your lips so beautifully it intoxicates him all the more. 

“Come on, baby,” He encourages in her ear, her eyes locking with his in the mirror before her shaking legs damn-near give way.

Your pulsing grip on him pulls him to his own end, only this time he’s pulling out to spill on your exposed ass cheek. 

Neither of you move, but you look at him in the mirror, waiting for him to meet your own eyes. 

When he finally does, he realizes the same painfully ironic turn of events that you’ve come to realize in this situation. 

Your relationship started with a random quickie in the mirror of his dressing room, dopey smiles and sweet kisses following your fast passions. 

Now here the two of you are, worn down and dragged around, exhausted and fed up. 

It’s a bitter pill to swallow as you examine him through teary eyes while your heart drops to your stomach. 

Instead of kissing you, or asking you about where you’re from, your family, your friends, your interests, he waits for you to ask him not to leave. 

To jump into his arms and admit how wrong you were, how much you’ve missed him, how you want to go with him when he leaves again tomorrow. 

But you do no such thing. 

So, instead, he fights back tears and stumbles backward to get away from you. 

…You have to shake the memory from your head, the last night the two of you saw one another being too emotionally draining to dwell on. 

Yet, the entirety of your relationship has been spat back out to you. 

Either in the form of dreams, random memories spilling through the cracks of your stone-cold mind that you’ve tried to wall off the best you can, and sometimes—when it’s too quiet in the house, void of your ex-boyfriend’s laughter, his shenanigans with his brothers, and any music exuding from him—your heart aches.

You see thousands of pictures from their current tour, it seems, scrolling mindlessly through social media, or sometimes his mom will give you updates. 

You’ve iced out his brothers as much as you have to him, feeling unable to maintain a relationship with any extension of him if you can’t have him solely. 

But it’s your fault. 

You practically kicked him out of his own house, and Jake, being Jake, didn’t argue. He didn’t want it anyway after it’d been soaked in your poison, stewing for months at a time with his absence while you were too stubborn to go with him.

Hearing the dog at the door, you step to the heavy wood and swing it open, wincing when they shake off at your feet and soak your legs. 

You need a shower, anyway, not feeling like taking one lately.

The idea of exerting that much energy is draining enough as it is, so you’ve dealt with your greasy hair with scrunchies and clips to keep it from your face, and don’t even try to think about what you might smell like to anyone who might drop by on you. 

Though no one has.

All your friends are out of town. 

Chugging the same performance kool-aid that Jake is. 

“Self-serious bastards,” You mumble to yourself, your voice breaking while your dog eyes the kitchen, causing you to follow suit.

The food hits the metal bowl with a loud sprinkle, and you stare down at them while they eat. 

You wonder what the hell the hound at your feet makes of this.

They miss him, at least you figure as much. They mope around more than you do some days, pacing in front of the door, or sniffing around his side of the closet before laying down and whining. 

But they brighten up on the days you’re worse off, as if knowing you need something to try to bring you joy and it’s on them to deliver it. despite the fact that perhaps they might feel as though they did something to make him leave for longer.

“It’s my fault, you know.” You say to them, and two big, round eyes look up at you as lips smack on their breakfast. “I’m sorry.” You add, the closest to an apology for your behavior towards your ex that you’ll make. 

[angelofacidx]

Pet pt 2

CW: Drugging, kidnapping, abuse, etc you get it

Part 1:

Your wrists had been rubbed raw and blistered from the constant use of handcuffs and your incessant thrashing. The collar, Simon quickly found out, was not a good fit for you. When determined enough you could slip it over your head, squishing down your nose and tugging strands of hair out. It had been eight—no, nine. Nine days after your first escape attempt. You track the days from their computer in the office, straining your leg as far as it will from your fixed position on the floor until your foot bumps the keyboard and brings the monitor to life. Nine days since the incident, and fifteen since you’ve been taken.

The screened side door was open like an invitation when you’d gotten free from the collar, and who were you to deny a mercy? Your captors seemed to be gone every three or four days for a couple hours to make the trek into town. If memory served, you’d have about an hour before they got back. It was now or never. You were off like a bullet, whizzing through the yard and beginning your journey onto the desolate dirt road. Maybe there’d be a car to help you, or hit you. You didn’t care at this point.

About a mile up the road your prayers were answered. A big black beat up truck sat just to the side of the road, parked, and—Oh fuck. Johnny was the first one out of the vehicle, a deeply wounded expression on his face as he paced towards you, frozen in fear. You didn’t even register Simon following behind him.

“Told ya Johnny. Can’t trust mutts to behave.” Simon announced, smugly.

He set you up. He wanted to catch you in the act. The bastard.

Your memories come to a dead stop, the pain in your ankles taking the forefront of your mind. They’d snapped them when you escaped, as easily as busting open a glow stick. Your punishment left you unable to walk or stand, only crawl on your hands and knees, wobbly like a puppy.

The door to the office opened slowly, letting you know from the action alone that it was Johnny and not Simon who would swing the door open so hard it hit the wall.

“Brought ye some food and a blanket.” His voice calm as he puts the plate on the floor for you and drapes the blanket over the hard surface of the crate you’d been sleeping in at night.

You watch him take a seat on the office chair, his hand extending to your head and offering you a few reassuring and affectionate pats. As much as you hate to admit it, the act of kindness doesn’t go unappreciated.

“Simon says if ye eat up we can take ye in the yard tomorrow. Good for ye to get some air.” He says, offering you a small smile.

Your gaze shifts down to the plate on the floor. The same leftovers that had been prepared for you since you started your little hunger strike. There was no way you’d eat off of the plate with your mouth like a dog. Sure, it was a weird hill to die on but you wanted the dignity of a table god dammit. Simon warned you that you’d be served the same cold leftovers until you caved or died of starvation. The choice was yours.

“Not hungry.” You grumble up to Johnny, wincing slightly as you try to shift away from the plate. Your ankle pain makes itself very known.

“C’mon sweetheart. I ken yer starving.” He says with a click of his tongue, picking up a piece of cold chicken off the plate.

“Open up.” He hums, extending it towards your mouth.

You do open up alright, but completely pass the food and opt for sinking your canine teeth into poor Johnny’s forearm. It’s petty and childish and not something you’d normally do, but you want him to feel a fraction of the pain you do. They want a wild animal? They’ll get one.

Johnny lurches back with a hiss, holding his arm and trying to rub out the grooves your teeth left to give himself some relief. Satisfaction washes over you for all of two seconds before your face smashes into the ground, a boot holding down the base of your skull.

“Stupid bitch.” Simon grunts from above, pressing harder until you squirm and cry out.

The boot is replaced by Simon’s hand weaving itself into your hair and yanking you up to meet his icy gaze. How is he always so quiet? How long had he been standing there?

“I’m done with your little games and tantrums. Open the fuck up. Now.” He says, his voice pure venom and malice.

You follow his demand, letting your lips part and head tilt back, balancing on your aching knees and trying to keep pressure off your injured ligaments.

“This is your fault too,” Simon quips as he rips down Johnny’s pants and boxers revealing his soft cock. “Coddled it too much. Now it thinks actions don’t have consequences.”

Johnny’s hips are pushed forward until his pelvic bone meets your nose and his cock is guided into your mouth by Simon’s hand. Feeling it begin to harden makes your eyes widen, beginning to sputter and choke, but Simon simply forces you back down onto him.

“Stay.” He commands, lowering his tone and exiting the room.

Johnny casts his eyes down to you, his expression half lust and half pity, his lower lip jutting out slightly as he tries to reassure you with a hand through your hair. It works temporarily and you scold yourself for feeling anything for someone who had a hand in your capture.

Simon returns shortly with a single long black paracord woven between his fingers. Quickly, the cord is secured around the base of your skull and meets around Johnny’s ass where he loops it a few times before tying it off; effectively trapping you to Johnny’s pelvis with his dick crammed down your throat.

“I will be back in an hour and we will try dinner and bed time again.” Simon announces before slamming the door, leaving you to overstimulate Johnny’s cock with your sputtering as you fight to breathe.

You’ll definitely take this as a lesson.

[delicatebarness]

cry baby | the alt ending

Summary: In the original plot of Cry Baby, John Walker never disappeared and our Cry Baby never met Peter Parker. Instead, her relationship with John blossomed into something Bucky and the rest of the Avengers hated. Turns out, they were right to hate him as his love for their girl was just a game. A game Bucky would not survive.

Warning: Abduction/Kidnapping. Physical Restraints. Emotional and Psychological Abuse. Violence and Physical Injury. Death and Grief. Manipulation and Coercion. Self-Neglect.

Word Count: 3743

Spotify Playlist | Support: Ko-FI

Series Masterlist

A/N: Hi, so I know this was not what won on the poll but, I wanted to do it anyway. I would just like to remind everyone that this is not canon. In the second installment of Cry Baby 'Badge & Blood' Bucky is very much alive and happy! This is just a write-up of the original ending, the ending that almost was. I would say I hope you enjoy it, but it is heartbreaking.- B

Tags: @buckys0whore | @thezombieprostitute | @lanabuckybarnes | @mishkatelwarriorgoddess | @softieekayy | @noonespecial90 | @hello-therree | @randomawesomeperson102 | @whoreforbarnes | @thejutvtsupport | @somnorvos | @cjand10 | @plasticbottleholder | @birdenthusiastez | @am-3-thyst

Everything: @hallecarey1 | @pattiemac1 | @uhmellamoanna | @scraftsku35 | @ozwriterchick | @sapphirebarnes | @rach2602 | @thetorturedbuckydepartment | @mrsnikstan | @lanabuckybarnes

Never did you imagine yourself in a situation like this– tied to a chair in the middle of a grimy, abandoned warehouse. Cold metal biting into your wrists, and damp, musty air filling your lungs with each shaky breath. Your mind raced with thoughts on how you got here, how you feel for John’s charm, even with Bucky’s warnings and Steve’s relentless attempts to protect you. Everyone saw something you couldn’t– or wouldn’t. There was a danger behind John’s charismatic facade, one you were now painfully aware of. 

Pounding against your chest, your heart raced as you heard noises outside the warehouse. Creaking open, you strained against your bindings, hoping it wasn’t John about to walk in. To your immense relief, it’s Bucky. His piercing blue eyes widened in horror as he took in the sight of you, bound and helpless.

“Sweetheart!” he shouts, sprinting toward you. 

“No, Bucky! Stop!” you screamed, your voice cracking with desperation. 

Skidding to a halt, Bucky was barely inches away from an almost invisible wire running across the floor. Looking down, realization dawned on his face. Another step and the warehouse would have exploded, taking you both with it.  

Before you can say anything else, slow, mocking claps begin to echo through the warehouse. As John steps out of the shadows, your blood runs cold, his smug grin sends chills down your spine. Sauntering over, John stands behind you, his hand resting on the nape of your neck, stroking your hair. 

“Good guard dog,” John sneers at Bucky, his voice dripping with condescension. “Always showing up right on time.” 

You couldn’t hold back the tears any longer, and you hated yourself for it. The tears begin to stream down your face, sobs escaping your lips. You hate how vulnerable you felt, how helpless. Most of all, you hated that you let John hold this power over you. 

Bucky’s fists clench at his side, eyes now burning in anger. “Let her go, Walker,” he growled, his voice low and as dangerous as ever. 

John laughed, the sound causing your skin to crawl. “Why would I do that? You see, Little Cry Baby here is my insurance policy. Steve will do anything to save his precious little sister. Isn’t that right, baby?” 

Turning your head away, you were unable to look at John. Your mistake and its weight crashed down on you. He never loved you, you were just a pawn in his twisted game, to gain control over Steve’s territory. 

“Don’t you dare hurt her,” Bucky warned with gritted teeth, taking a cautious step back.

John’s fingers tightened in your hair, pulling your head back, forcing you to look up at him. Devoid of any genuine emotion, his eyes were cold. “Hurt her? Oh, James, you misunderstand me. I have no intention of hurting my baby. Not if Steve cooperates.” 

You could see Bucky’s desire to tear John apart, but he knew he had to be careful. It would only take one wrong move, and the whole place would go up in flames. He tried to calm himself, taking deep breaths. 

“What do you want, John?” Bucky asks, his voice steadying. “Just tell me what you want.” 

John’s smile widens, and he releases his grip on your hair, walking around to face Bucky. “Finally, we’re getting somewhere. It’s simple… really.  I want Steve to relinquish control of his operations to me. All of it. He steps down, and I take over. In return, I’ll let the little bitch go, unharmed.” 

There was conflict in Bucky’s eyes. He wanted to save you, but he knew the cost and it wasn’t his to pay. Steve’s leadership had kept things in balance, handing that control over to John would plunge the city into chaos. 

“Think about it, James,” John said, his tone almost casual. “You could have her in your arms within minutes, and all it takes is a little power shift. It’s not so much to ask, is it?” 

Bucky tried to keep his composure. “You don’t understand, Walker. Even if I wanted to hand over control, it’s not my power to give. The respect and loyalty Steve has, can’t just be transferred to you, especially not by me. The city won’t follow you.” 

Irritation flashed in John’s eyes, but he quickly regained his smug demeanor. “Yeah, I know. But fear? Fear is a powerful motivator, James. Surely, out of everyone, you know that.” 

Bucky looks at you, and you can see the torment in his eyes. He’s weighing his options, trying to find a way out of this mess. You shake your head, pleading with him silently. You don’t want him to sacrifice everything for you. You don’t want to be the reason your brother loses everything he’s built.

“Don’t do it, Bucky,” you manage to say through your sobs. “Don’t let him win.” 

John’s expression darkens, and he steps closer to you, a menacing edge to his voice. “Oh, baby, you should know by now that you don’t get a say in this.” 

Watching as John’s fingers trail down your cheek, Bucky’s jaw clenched. Each touch left a shiver of dread in their wake. His fingers lingered, tracing patterns on your skin with a sickening intimacy, your stomach churning. His eyes never left Bucky’s, reveling in the torment he was causing. 

With a twisted smile, John leaned in close, his breath ghosting over your face. His lips, cold and mocking, pressed against your forehead in a perverse parody of affection. Bucky’s knuckles turned white as his fists tightened. 

John’s voice was a low whisper as he continued his charade, placing another kiss on your temple. “Such a good girl,” he taunted, his eyes gleaming with pleasure. 

“Bucky,” you whimpered, your sobs broke through the fog of despair, snapping Bucky out of his rage. 

“Sweetheart, I’m here,” his voice cut through the haze, grounding and steady. He was a beacon in the strong of your fear. “Look at me.” 

Through the blur of your tears, your eyes found his. The blue of his gaze was like an anchor, steadying you– pulling you back from the edge of your panic.

“That’s it, focus on me,” he encouraged softly. His tone was soothing despite the fury simmering beneath his skin. “You’re doing great, that’s my girl.” 

John’s grip found your hair again, but you kept your eyes locked on Bucky’s, drawing strength from his unwavering presence. Each breath you took, ragged and shallow, slowly became a little steadier under his watchful gaze. 

Enraged by the connection between you and Bucky, John’s face twisted with jealousy and fury. He decided it was time to sever that bond once and for all. Then, with a swift, cruel motion, he pulled out a gun. The metallic click of the safety being disengaged.

Eye widening in alarm, Bucky never breaks eye contact with you. “Stay with me,” he whispered, his voice unwavering. The shot rings out, a deafening crack echoing through the warehouse. 

Time seemed to slow as Bucky staggered backward, his eyes still locked on yours even as the force drove him back. Instinctively, his hand reached up to his chest, where a dark, crimson stain began to spread through his shirt. 

“Bucky!” you scream, the sound tearing from your throat. Your heart shattered at the sight of him wounded and bleeding. 

His leg trembled as he tried to steady himself, fighting to stay upright. His lips moved, forming words you couldn’t hear. The pain was clear in his eyes. 

“No!” you sobbed, struggling against your bindings. Rope cut into your wrists, but with your entire focus on Bucky, you barely felt the physical pain. 

The blood flowered faster now, and Bucky’s face grew pale. He dropped to his knees, still trying to keep his eyes on you, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Echoing through the warehouse, your cries were a haunting symphony of anguish filling the cold, and empty space. 

Leaning in closer, John’s breath was hot and rancid against your ear. “I don’t think you’re going to be able to patch this one up, baby,” he whispered, word lacing with cruel satisfaction.

Desperation and rage collided within you. “Bucky!” you screamed, your voice raw, a testament to your fear. You watched as he struggled to stay conscious, his vibrant blue eyes now clouded with pain. 

Fading into the periphery, John’s taunts became a distant murmur. Your world narrowed to a single point: Bucky. The man you love, now bleeding out before you, each drop a silent scream of your own helplessness. 

John’s laughter echoed through the warehouse, a sinister chorus bouncing off the walls, but you didn’t hear it. Your focus was on the rise and fall of Bucky’s chest, the silent plea in his eyes for you to stay. 

Looming over you like a dark cloud suffocating your every breath, John leaned in even closer. His voice was a venomous whisper in your ear. “This is all your fault, you know,” he hissed, words dropping from his lips with malice. “If you had just listened to him, if you stayed away from me, your precious dog wouldn’t be dying right now.” 

Wrapping your hair around his hand, John yanked your head back painfully, forcing you to face him. “Look at me,” he snarled, his eyes blazing. “He’s dying because of you. You brought this on him, you pathetic bitch.” 

“No,” you sobbed, shaking your head as best you can. “Please, let me go to him. I need to help him.” 

A cruel smile played on his lips as he released your hair, stepping back just enough to let you see the full extent of his deranged delight. "Go to what?" he sneered. "He’s dead! There’s nothing left for you to do!"

Desperation clawed at your throat, your voice breaking with each word as you begged, "Please, John, let me go to him. I need to help him. Please."

John’s laughter echoed through the warehouse, a chilling sound that bounced off the grimy walls. He seemed to relish in your despair, feeding off your pain. "Pathetic," he muttered, shaking his head in mock pity. 

Your heart shattered at his words, but you refused to give up hope. You strained against your bindings, your eyes locked onto Bucky's pale, motionless form. Every fiber of your being screamed to be by his side, to hold him, to somehow make everything right again.

"Please," you whispered, your voice a broken plea. "Let me go to him. I love him."

For a moment, John’s expression faltered, a flicker of something almost human crossing his face. Then, with a sigh, he waved his hand dismissively. "Fine," he said, his voice dripping with false magnanimity.

John cut the ropes binding you, and you stumbled forward, collapsing near Bucky. Desperation fueled your movements as you crawled toward him, carefully dodging the explosives trigger with a frantic, shaky determination.

Your hands trembled as they reached his face, the chill of his skin seeping into your bones. "Bucky," you whispered, tears streaming uncontrollably down your cheeks. "Please, stay with me. Please."

Bucky's eyes fluttered open, the light in them dim but still present. He managed a weak smile, his lips barely moving as he whispered, "I love you, sweetheart."

Cradling his head in your lap, you rocked back and forth, your sobs echoing through the empty warehouse. "I love you," you choked out, your voice raw with emotion. "I always have."

His breathing was shallow, each breath a struggle. You gently stroked his hair, your tears mingling with the blood staining his shirt. "Stay with me," you pleaded, your heart breaking with every second that passed. "Please, don't leave me."

Bucky's hand weakly reached up to touch your face, his fingers brushing against your cheek. "You... you were always the only good in my life," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "Don't... don't lose that."

As his eyes began to close again, you pressed a kiss to his lips, your tears wetting his skin. "I won't," you promised, your voice a whisper. "I won't."

~

Suddenly, the door burst open again, and you hear Steve and Sam’s voices cutting through the haze of your despair. The chaotic moment seemed to slow as they rushed in, their presence barely registering with you until Natasha and Wanda followed closely behind them. Gasping at the sight, Wanda’s face paled as she collapsed into Sam’s side. He caught her with ease, his expression hardening with resolve. 

Lifting your head slowly, your tear-filled gaze locked onto Steve. His breath caught in his throat as he took in the scene before him: his little sister, soaked in the blood of his best friend, cradling his lifeless body.

“Stevie, please,” you sobbed, your voice trembling and desperate. “Please, Stevie, bring him back.” 

Steve's heart broke at the sight of you, his protective instincts roaring to the forefront. He wanted to rush to you, to hold you and somehow make everything right. But the harsh reality of the situation held him back, his steps faltered as he stared at John, standing with a gun pointed in your direction.

Seeing the despair on his face, John smirked, his grip on the gun tightening. "Isn't this touching?" he sneered. "But take one more step, Rogers, and I'll have a lovely little pile of Avengers to clean up."

Steve eye’s bore into John with a searing intensity, and anger and cold calculation blended dangerously. His voice was taut, he struggled to maintain a steady tone despite the underlying edge of desperation. “What do you want, Walker?” 

John’s gaze slid over to Steve, his smirk widening with a casual, almost dismissive air. “Oh, the usual,” he drawled. "A luxurious lifestyle, perhaps a winning lottery ticket, and a hot tub would be nice."

Steve’s silence stretched out, heavy and suffocating, speaking volumes without a single word. His gaze remained locked onto John, unyielding and resolute despite the turmoil roiling within him.

John’s smirk faltered as his expression darkened, his patience wearing thin. “Not in the mood for some light comedy?” he taunted, his voice dripping with disdain. “Fine… I want your empire.”

Steve’s jaw tightened, the muscle working beneath his skin as he fought to keep his composure. The sarcasm dripped from his lips, sharp and venomous, a thin veneer masking his boiling frustration. “Still cracking jokes, I see.”

The weight of John’s demand settled heavily between them, a stark contrast to the dangerous levity John was trying to maintain. Steve’s eyes, though filled with pain, were also fierce with determination. Every second counted, and he knew that his next move would be critical.

John’s demeanor shifted abruptly, his smirk draining from his face, a glare taking its place. The mockery faded, and his voice only dripped with a cold menace. "You’re really risking your sister’s life just to be sarcastic? How touching, Rogers."

Steve's gaze remained unwavering, his eyes blazing with fierce determination despite the dire circumstances. "She’s the only leverage you have,” he said, his voice steady once again but now sharped with intensity. “I thought you were just stupid, but I didn’t think you were this much of an idiot."

John’s face contorted with rage, Steve was wearing down his patience. “You think you can outsmart me, Rogers? I want it all. Everything.”

Steve’s jaw tightened as he processed John's demand and the weight of it. The silence was heavy as Steve weighed his options, the urgency of the situation pressed down on him. Each second passing stretched out. He was caught between his protective instincts, love for you, and the responsibility of maintaining the city’s balance. Then, with a deep, shuddering breath, he reluctantly removed his leather jacket, the solemn gesture of surrender.

"Fine," Steve sighed, his voice heavy with defeat and resignation. "You can have it. Here." his voice was firm yet weary.

Tossing the jacket toward John with a resigned flick of his wrist, the fabric fluttered through the air. It landed near John’s feet, its descent slow and deliberate. John's eyes widened with surprise, and greed, a malicious satisfaction flickering across his face.

For a brief moment, John's surprise was evident, but his expression quickly shifted to one of greedy triumph. He stepped closer, his gaze fixed on the jacket with mean anticipation. The power he had sought was now within his grasp, and Steve’s surrender had given him exactly what he wanted.

John had momentarily lowered his guard. It's just enough for Sam and Natasha to spring into action. Natasha dashes forward, her movements swift and precise. Sam follows, and together they tackle John.

Steve and Wanda, faces etched with a blend of anguish and determination, rushed to your side. The urgency in their movements was palpable as they reached you and Bucky. Their eyes were wide with a mix of fear and hope, but the grim reality quickly set in.

Bucky lay motionless on the cold, grimy floor, his skin ashen and lifeless. The once vibrant blue of his eyes had dulled, and his breathing had ceased entirely. Steve dropped to his knees beside him, his hands trembling as he tried in vain to check for any signs of life. Wanda, her face pale and stricken, dropping to your side. 

Clinging to Bucky’s cold body, your sobs grew more desperate and ragged. Your pleas for him to come back, for any sign of life, were met with the harsh silence of finality. Steve’s voice broke as he called out Bucky’s name, his frustration, and grief mingling with the hopelessness of the situation. The efforts to revive him were pointless; Bucky remained still, the light of life extinguished.

Sam and Natasha moved with practiced precision, their synchronized efforts overwhelming John with brutal efficiency. Sam gripped onto John’s arms, forcing him down onto his knees while Natasha landed strikes with a vengeance. Struggling, John’s resistance was nothing against their combined strength and skill.

With each blow, Natasha delivered a cathartic release of guilt and anger she had bottled up. Her fists moved like lightning, hitting harder with every strike. John’s face contorted in pain, Sam’s held him in an iron hold he could not break free from. Echoing through the warehouse was the sound of flesh hitting flesh. 

“Nat! That’s enough!” Sam’s voice cut through the air, his words barely reaching her. Lost in her fury, her sole focus was making John pay for the suffering. Her knuckles were raw and bloodied, but she showed no signs of slowing down. 

“Natasha!” Sam shouted again, his voice more urgent, he tried to break through her blind rage. “It’s over! He’s done!” 

She couldn’t stop, she didn’t want to stop. Her vision was blurred by tears of rage, Her fists were pounding mercilessly into the man’s already broken body. 

As the sounds of Natasha’s sobs mingled with the stillness of the warehouse, you remained centered around Bucky. Steve’s face was a mask of torment, his usually strong and steady demeanor cracked at the sight of his best friend. He reached out, touching Bucky’s cold cheek, his hand trembling. “Buck,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I’m so sorry.” 

ONE YEAR LATER

The chill of the autumn air bit through the leather jacket. Save for the rustling of leaves and the distant hum of the city, the cemetery was quiet. 

Kneeling down, you traced the letters etched into the cold marble: “James Buchanan Barnes– the true heart of the family.” Your fingers lingered on his name, the name that once filled your life with love and laughter, Now, it was a reminder of everything that had been taken from you. 

In your other hand, you carried a bottle of his favorite beer and a pack of cigarettes. You placed them carefully at the base of the cold, grey stone. 

You sat down on the damp ground, resting your back against the headstone. Pulling your knees to your chest, you took a deep breath and closed your eyes. 

“I’m here, Buck,” you whispered, your voice carried away by the wind. “Just like always.” 

As the wind picked up, you pulled the leather jacket tighter around your body. No matter the weather, you never moved. These couple of hours a day with Bucky were sacred, your time to feel close to him. 

“I brought your favorites,” you murmured, glancing down at the beer and cigarettes. “I know it’s not much, but it feels like you’re still here with me what I do.” 

You often found yourself talking to him, sharing your thoughts and feelings, even though you knew he couldn’t respond. He’d probably tell you to stop crying, anyway. 

“Sam and Wanda are holding up,” you continued your voice still barely a whisper. “It’s been hard for them, but they’re doing their best. Steve… he’s trying so hard to be strong, but I see the pain. He misses you so much, Bucky.” 

You took a deep breath, letting the cool fresh air fill your lungs. “Nat, she’s been a rock for all of us. But, I know she still carries the guilt of that night. She blames herself for a lot, she doesn’t need to, it wasn’t her fault.” 

Tears began spilling down your cheeks. “I miss you, Bucky. Every single day. There’s not a second that goes by that I don’t think about you.” 

The wind rustled the leaves around you, and for a moment, it felt like Bucky was there, his presence a comforting balm to your aching heart. 

“Everything reminds me of you,” you admitted, your voice cracking. “I keep expecting to see you around every corner, to hear your voice, to feel your touch. But you’re not there. And it hurts, Bucky. It hurts so fucking much.” 

As the hours passed, the sky shifted from the dull gray to a deep black. Stars beginning to twinkle above, but you remained where you were, lost in your grief. 

Exhaustion weighed heavily on you, and your body. It bore marks of sleepless nights and days spent in mourning. The dark circles under your eyes and a gaunt appearance spoke volumes about your lack of self-care.

“I don’t know how to do this without you,” you whispered, your years falling freely. “I don’t know how to be okay without you.” 

Your eyelids grew heavy and in the quiet of the cemetery, with the bottle of beer and cigarette packet lying beside you, you fell asleep. Finally, find a moment of rest in the place where you feel closest to him.

---

Series Masterlist

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

SO works at an animal shelter and our skeleton walks in once and is now ever animal in the shelters favorite person

SO is really jealous

Undertale Sans - Well sorry not sorry about that. What can he say? He's very popular. You told him you were concerned about what type of skeleton he is. Now it's pretty clear he must be some kind of gigantic sloth skeleton or something. Every animal wants to nap on him.

Undertale Papyrus - Papyrus is actually a little overwhelmed by all the dogs around him. He doesn't know who he hasn't pet yet and it's stressing him out knowing one dog might feel less loved than the other ones. He doesn't care about what you think right now, he's too focused on trying to understand why terrible people would abandon such sweet babies. By the end of the day, he's asking you to adopt one.

Underswap Sans - He swears he did nothing, stop looking at him like that! He didn't even know that guinea pigs, which are neither from guinea or pigs, were a thing! He's lying in the enclosure, entirely covered with guinea pigs and he's not regretting anything. They're all squishy!

Underswap Papyrus - If I were you, I wouldn't be jealous about that. You should worry about how the hell you're going to convince your giant golden retriever of a boyfriend to go home without his 150 new dog babies. Honey never wants to leave again. That's his people. What do you mean he can't take all of them home? You can't let them sleep in this horrible place in the dark! That's abuse! What is they cry and no one hears them? D: He's devastated when you drag him out of there, begging you to at least take one home or he could never forgive himself lol. He's going to guilt trip you for weeks to get his fourth dog and he's not going to change his mind so good luck with that.

Underfell Sans - He's a bit uncomfortable, a lot of parrots on his arms and on his head. He doesn't understand why you're mad, he's literally terrified to move right now. Please take them back? Red is not exactly an animal person, not with birds at least, and he's a little confused right now. He's not sure how to escape this situation.

Underfell Papyrus - What? You're jealous? Good! He's a volunteer in a rescue as well and he told you he had a nice touch with the cats. Now you can see how true this is because he is clearly the best in all he does. Cry like a loser while he pets all the cats like an epic villain. Don't you know cats prefer scary people because they are better at protecting them from predators? You swear he just invented that. You're so mad.

Horrortale Sans - Well, you saw how the animals are all attracted to him in the farm so it's not a bit surprise all the dogs and cats are dying to come to see him. Even the most fearful dogs are all crawling on his lap to get affection. He just sits in the dog playroom while you work and have fun with the little furbabies. You wish you could do the same.

Horrortale Papyrus - He acts smug and silly because he likes to tease you, but you can see he's actually really happy about that. He didn't have that much love in a long time and even if it's little rabbits and not humans or monsters, he's happy. He even sits on the floor to stay with them and it's quite a while now, to the point you're a bit concerned about his back. But he's too happy to disturb him for now. He can have that moment.

Swapfell Sans - You can't believe it honestly. Chinchillas only choose one special person and somehow it's Nox. You wanted to be their special person! That's so unfair, you're trying to socialize them for weeks! Nox acts like he doesn't care and all but you surprise him by searching the internet to see what he needs to buy to take care of chinchillas. He's not asking you by the way. He's taking them home.

Swapfell Papyrus - You stop watching him for two minutes and then he comes in the room holding a huge raccoon in his hands and asks you to adopt him. You're so confused. There's literally no raccoon in your shelter??? Where the hell did it come from??? Rus is very proud of himself though. And he's definitely getting home with that thing, either you say yes or no. He's ready to squeeze it in his ribcage.

Fellswap Gold Sans - Wine is not happy. He has cat hair everywhere on his handmade suit and he's slowly dying inside. He hates cats. He hates all animals really, why the hell are they clinging to him like that? He's distressed and keeps staring at his S/O intensely to have some help. Unfortunately, you're way too amused to come and save him. It's rare to see Wine lose his mind.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - You let him have his fun. Coffee is crying right now, buried under a pile of big dogs. He's a bit overwhelmed and can't control his feelings anymore. All you can see are his two arms, trying to hug as many dogs as he can. He's never getting out of the pile. It's the best day of his life.

[ofallthingsnasty]

Scenario where Arlongs human pet falls pregnant 👉👈

oh, anon, you're so evil... i love it 😔💕

references this post

tw.minors dni, forced pregnancy, noncon, dehumanization, mutilation mention, read the tags and read them twice

It's simultaneously the best and worst thing that can happen to you in this situation.

The best because it provides you with a breather of sorts - and the worst because well, you're pregnant with that man's child. You might think he’d be angry with you - far from that, actually. The moment he catches on, he’ll be nothing but thoroughly pleased with himself. It means that he has fully tainted you, claimed every inch of your body. Of course you'd get knocked up, he'll say, how could your little human womb ever withstand his seed. And if he hasn’t called you his little cow before - he’s definitely going to, now. As utterly humiliating it is to have him smile down at you with nothing but smug malice, it also elevates your status significantly. Suddenly there is a place to sleep for you, even regular meals. No more crawling around on all fours to amuse him or the crew, no more heavy feet on your back when he decides he’d rather use you as a footstool, no more hands all over your body, pinching, groping, slapping you - and, most importantly, no more impromptu violence, at least to the extent you experienced beforehand. That little thing in you is far too valuable to torture its vessel over and risk losing it. (And he’ll tell you all about it - that he’s only being so nice to you because you’re carrying his child.) Does it mean that you’re suddenly living an almost normal life despite the circumstances? Absolutely not. You’ll still need to make yourself useful to him - you’re still their little maid-servant and work from dusk to dawn, still have to serve Arlong to your best abilities - but the abuse shifts from physical to verbal. It’s still hard, but with a full belly, a decent place to sleep and without the looming threat of getting drowned just for fun, harsh words are way, way easier to withstand than before. He is obsessed with your bump - he definitely makes you wear clothing that emphasizes it the moment you even start to remotely show. It’s the deepest form of branding to him and he develops a sick pleasure in showing you off to your old friends and family in the village that you used to call your home. He parades you around like he just bred his pedigree dog, talks on and on about how you’ve finally fully submitted and saw the light, saw what’s best for you, how you know your place - all to the mortification of the people you used to know. He’ll make a whole show of getting you examined by your old town doctor, makes sure you’re at every check-up, each time a little fuller than before, showing off your progress. (And god have mercy on them if they try to help you get rid of it because it’s an open secret that this pregnancy is entirely unwanted. He’ll slit them open top to bottom on the town square and threaten to cut your feet off - if you dare to kill his offspring he’ll simply fuck another one in you, he’ll say, expression beyond good and evil. You’ll lose a finger for the attempt; if you try again, it’ll be a limb.)

Not to mention that he’s ravenous. It’s like a switch has been flipped in his brain - where he has forced himself on you in the past to get his dick wet, to get some use out of you, he suddenly can’t keep his hands to himself because of some new-found attraction. And the more you’re showing, the worse it gets. He’ll fuck you until the day you’re due, no matter how much you complain or how straining it is for you. It’s something he retains until after you’ve given birth - from that moment on, you’ve gone from the human toy to his little breeding stock and he’ll make sure to put you to good use. You’ll never be empty again if he can help it - he’s found a new ‘feature’ of yours to exploit and he’s going to keep at it until you’re a shell of your former self, until you collapse.

And you better hope the baby takes more after him than you - he’s not going to be kind to a little half fish-man who looks more like a human than him. That poor baby has a beyond bleak future in front of them. (Don’t even think of trying to escape with your child - he’ll make you regret it every single day of your remaining life, that’s for sure.)