#he thought he was getting family and instead got a leash he would wear for the rest of his life

[chryseiswriting-blog]

I need someone to draw the day Kevin met Riko, the day he thought he was getting a brother and instead got an owner and a leash that he would wear for the rest of his life, even after the monster was long dead.

Just two kids with dead mums, absent fathers, and very different ideas of the path ahead.

[delusionsofgrandeur13]

pt. 2

you just saw your ex boyfriend, dick grayson, for the first time since he broke up with you.

you ran into him on the street.

no, like, literally ran into him.

you were walking your mom’s dog for her, a german shepherd she got when you moved out. she’d aptly named him trouble. despite his name, trouble was usually a mellow guy, even if he was huge. walking him was just another thing you were doing to try and ignore the thoughts constantly pounding out a beat in your head.

oh, dick would think this is funny! that’s dick’s favorite color, i should buy it! dick and i should go there on our next date!

and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on and-

anyways, you were definitely trying to keep yourself busy.

any time a memory popped up in your brain of him—

laughing at your jokes, holding you close while you fell asleep, kissing your neck while he thrust into you

—you’d empty the dishwasher, paint your nails, (any color but blue) turn on reality tv, read a book, stuff your face, whatever.

anything to stop fucking thinking about him and his stupid blue eyes and his dumb smile.

you’d been been watching the news, sprawled across the couch. just the regular gotham news: don’t use main street, mr. freeze’s ray iced out the pavement. the iceberg lounge had been raided by the police for the third time this month. the justice league defeated yet another extraterrestrial threat to humanity, blah, blah, blah. you weren’t really watching. the news program ended, and the next one started. a gotham gossip show. they were doing a special segment on the wayne family.

of course they fucking were. even your tv was conspiring against you. you had to resist the urge to chuck the remote at it.

you turned it off instead, heading to your room to get ready for a run.

(running for exercise or running from your thoughts?)

your mom had asked you to take trouble right before you’d walked out the door, and so you grabbed him and his leash and headed out. you’d forgotten the bags for his poop, but you didn’t think you would be out that long, so you just kept on going.

you were wearing the leggings dick had bought you, ones he joked should be a specific blue color. you hadn’t understood then, but you more than understood now. it was warmer, and so you just had on an old sports bra on top, and some converse.

you were not the athletic type. that was dick. probably still was. you wouldn’t really know.

you hadn’t talked since it happened, like three or four weeks ago.

time had become a little fuzzy. your mom said you could stay with her as long as you needed, but you were starting to get the itch to move out.

nothing against your mom, it’s just hard to sob really loudly into a pint of ice cream when she’s there.

and she keeps trying to wash the one shirt of dick’s you still have. you know, fully well, how dumb it is, (and a little gross) but you’re still wearing his shirt every night to bed. and maybe it’s all in your head, but it still smells like him. you aren’t ready to wash it. besides, now that you’re sleeping by yourself, you’re pretty sure it’s helping you fall asleep. something that was hard to do the first few nights without your big warm boyfriend next to you in bed.

it probably isn’t good for you, to keep wearing his shirt.

you’d had your hand between your thighs more than once late at night thinking about being enveloped in his scent. your nights were haunted with thoughts of his body over yours, his phantom voice in your ear. calling you angel, asking you if this was heaven, like the last time you’d had sex.

it definitely isn’t good for you.

but neither is life without dick grayson.

you try not to dwell on the fact that dick had given you a sort of non-reason for the breakup. sure, it got lonely sometimes, or you got anxious for your masked boyfriend, so you cried. so what if your patience wore thin after a few too many “i’m sorry, angel, i can’t make it this time”-s.

you were human!

but you’d never, never once complained about his absence or his commitments to his family.

never.

he’d just assumed you were silently suffering and it really irked you if you thought about it for too long. you still weren’t sure if you were mad at him or sad, or whatever. it felt like your brain couldn’t decide on an emotion so you just got twelve at once. but what you did know for sure was that he was 110% worth it to you. you just wish he’d realize that. see that. instead of just the times you were a little emotionally strung out. your ex boyfriend was too willing to sacrifice his own mental health for the sake of yours and you were sick of it. but you didn’t know if you had the courage to say that to him. or even see him, after the way this breakup had hit you.

your friends had managed to get you out of the house, a few times now.

you’d gotten almost too drunk every time, escaping your friends and going outside to get some air. this time, you saw a guy that looked just enough like dick, and it’d all been too much. so you got out of there. you sat yourself down on the curb, looking up at the hazy rooftops. you were always looking up. always.

and since the break up, you’d noticed the vigilantes of your city more often. maybe there was more criminal activity. maybe you were just paying more attention than you used to.

you’d seen spoiler and orphan, pounding the pavement behind you to run after some seedy looking guy holding a briefcase. you think spoiler tried to high five you on the way past, but there was no way. you wrote it off as your memory embellishing things.

you were pretty sure red hood had nodded at you before disappearing down a fire escape on the other side of the building.

your mom had recently gotten a delivery of security cameras for her house. but she hadn’t ordered them. the shipping address had only the address of some warehouse on the dock, the name just, ‘R.R.’ you’d set the cameras up, but you and your mom both were still baffled about it.

and here, sitting on the curb, you were staring at what looked like a dark figure crouched on the rooftop opposite. they’d been there when you’d entered the club, too.

you squinted, trying to make out shoulders and suit colors, when they stood up, and the light bounced off his shiny cowl.

fucking batman?

you shook your head, trying to shake your drunk brain like an etch-a-sketch. there was actually no way.

a smaller figure, one you hadn’t seen behind the shape of batman (!?) pulled a weapon, a gleaming silver sword, and pointed it at you. your head spun. batman (there was no way) shook his head at robin. he sheathed his sword, throwing his hands up in what looked like annoyance. you blinked, and they were gone.

you weren’t really sure if it had happened or not. you’d been trying not to think too hard about the fact that you still hadn’t seen nightwing. you’d really been trying.

so instead, you were walking your mom’s dog.

trouble had, in fact, pooped, and you were frantically looking around for something to pick it up with. gotham was already shitty enough without the addition of, well, literal shit. the streets were busy, but not crowded, and someone down the block whistled for a cab, catching your attention. you turned, and at the same time, trouble jerked your arm, pulling you backwards into someone walking on the sidewalk. the stranger made a choked sound.

“trouble??”

your heart stopped. you held your breath, turning around.

trouble was at attention, looking up at your ex-boyfriend with his head cocked.

dick’s eyes were wide. his hair shorter than you remember. he leaned down to scratch trouble behind the ears, his biceps and shoulder muscles in hard relief. are you dreaming? you didn’t recognize the shirt he had on, but he was wearing your favorite jeans of his, and his matching converse. your mouth felt like a desert.

trouble trails around the two of you, the leash long. he loves your ex-boyfriend, you know he won’t go anywhere.

“did you cut your hair?” you take a step forward. dick does too.

“i-” he clears his throat. “i did. do you like it?” he shifts his eyes, his cheeks bright pink.

you make a show of looking it over. he turns his head so you can see it from all angles. like he always did when he got a haircut.

your chest hurts.

you nod approvingly, flashing him a weak smile.

“it looks really nice. you’re very-” your face heats as you stop yourself. “it looks very handsome.”

that’s an understatement. you would’ve climbed him like a tree the minute he’d come home looking like that. the way his biceps were bulging out of his shirt sleeves could not be good for his circulation. it was great for yours, your heart was beating a mile a minute.

dick smiles down at you, stepping forward again.

“thanks.” he looks down, taking in your outfit. “nice leggings, ang-” he’s cut off when trouble spots a squirrel and darts, barking wildly. the problem is, trouble had been walking his leashed self around you and dick.

you’re now chest to chest with your ex boyfriend in the middle of a sidewalk, tied to him by rope. you vaguely hear trouble whine at the way his collar bit into his neck from the leash pulling taut. you didn’t even have the time to process the fact that he had almost called you angel. which was probably a good thing.

you’re breathing heavily, while dick doesn’t seem to be breathing at all.

he’s put his arms around you on instinct, and you hate the way you feel like you’re home. a shiver runs up your spine at the sudden closeness, and dick peers down at you through half-lids. your mouth dries up again. you suddenly feel indignant.

“you are not allowed to breakup with me and then show up and look at me like that!” you hiss at him.

you would throw up your hands in exasperation if they weren’t basically pinned to dick’s body. a smile breaks across his face, his bright blue eyes telling you everything you need to know. he stares at you, studying you. you wonder if he can feel how hard your heart is beating.

“alfred taught me a new recipe.” he blurts, his hand clutching at your back.

he’s adorable. but you school your face and raise an eyebrow at him.

“..oookay?”

dick blushes, his face sheepish. “i could make it for you, if you wanted.”

“what i want is an apology.” you look him up and down.

your ex boyfriend grimaces, squeezing his eyes shut. “understandable.”

“on your hands and knees. i think this is one of those begging-for-my-forgiveness type situations, don’t you think?”

dick nods, a strand of hair falling across his forehead. his eyes flash.

“you don’t have to worry about getting me on my knees.”

one heartbeat pounds behind your ribs, the other one between your legs. you huff out a weird sort of nervous laugh.

“oh, i’m not joking.” his lips curve up in a smile, one you know very well. he obviously plans to make up on lost time.

you forgot how charming he was. you have to practically force yourself to breathe. you’d do anything to have the real thing over his old t-shirt. you give yourself a mental shake.

he can flirt all he wants, but what about your heart? you look up at him, and his face softens, his pupils huge.

“can you get us untangled?”

dick nods, whistling for trouble. he frees an arm and grabs trouble’s collar, guiding him back around so the leash falls to the sidewalk. you step back, taking a deep breath. you’re cold at the sudden loss of his body heat. it’s a harsh reminder of reality. you grab trouble’s leash, having him sit. you look at your ex boyfriend.

“thanks.” you take another deep breath. “can you promise me something, though?”

he nods, his face serious. “anything. anything at all.”

“promise you won’t break my heart again?” you hold out your pinky finger.

dick coughs, surprised at your words. he looks down, taking a shaky breath. he’s in disbelief, he’s ecstatic, he’s on top of the world, he…has a lot of apologizing to do.

when he looks back up to offer up his own pinky, his eyes are shining. the sight makes your heart melt. you take his finger in yours, beaming up at him.

he gives you a soft smile in return. “i promise.”

you take your hand back, feeling the most hopeful you have in a month.

a breeze picks up, and the whiff you get reminds you of your earlier predicament. you look down. dick looks down too.

shit. literally.

you forgot about the fact that trouble had used the sidewalk as a toilet.

“is that trouble’s?” he asks.

you nod, making a face. “i forgot the poop bags.”

“rookie mistake.” dick shakes his head, smiling. you look him up and down, and then turn, walking back the way you came.

“text me about that recipe!” you lift your hand in a wave.

“but-..uh, the shit?” he calls after you.

“that’s alllll you, baby!” you yell back, practically skipping away. you feel like you’re floating.

[goblinwithartsupplies]

Things I headcanon about Jason Grace because I am also a wolf kid

Camp Jupiter already knew about Jason before he showed up because other kids saw him while they were with Lupa

He was just referred to as Lupa’s pup

He stayed with Lupa for a little over 4 years arriving at camp Jupiter a week before his 7th birthday

Jason was feral when he first arrived he had some basic language skills thanks to the other kids that were with Lupa but he was FERAL

When Jason showed up he was clutching a ratty little stuffed dog when the augur tried to take it from him Jason nearly bit the guy’s fingers off

Jason got to keep the dog

Jason’s augury (from a stuffed eagle) is how the camp knew he was a son of Jupiter and that his name was Jason

Contrary to popular belief New Rome has a foster system for demigods whose mortal parent is dead and are too young to join the legion

Jason was raised by two dads one of whom was a former praetor

Jason didn’t know his actual last name until Hera/Juno kidnapped him. Juno put the knowledge into his head and Jason feels weird when he introduces himself by Jason Grace

When Jason first introduced himself to Chiron he nearly says the last name he got from his adoptive parents but stops and can’t remember what he was about to say

Jason’s dads are only 14 years older than him

Jason refused to wear shoes for years saying that they made his teeth itch

Jason only wears shoes when absolutely necessary which means he only wears shoes when he’s on quest

As a child Jason would regularly “run away” and visit Lupa and her pack because he misses his wolf mama and siblings

Because of how often Jason visits Lupa he has brought several young demigods to camp

His foster dads had to shop in pet stores to find chew toys for him and a leash he couldn’t chew through

He had hair as long as was allowed and so many piercings

His favorite piercings are his snake bites

When Juno/Hera kidnapped him she cut his hair and healed his piercings

Jason’s foster dads could barely recognize Jason when he first came back to camp Jupiter

The first family activity they had when he got back from the war with Gaea was redo the piercings in his ears that match his dads’

Jason’s friends jokingly say Juno tried domesticate him

Jason hates sleeping in a bed

He’ll do it but he would prefer to be on the floor

Jason is pansexual but never really stuck a label on it

He also never properly came out he just complained about Octavian being really hot but so annoying

Jason’s dads took one look at his raging lesbian punk sister and instantly agreed she was their’s now

When asked who his godly parent is Jason once instinctively answered Lupa

Angst time

When Jason went missing his dads just thought he was going to visit Lupa

When he took to long to get back they went to see Lupa and Lupa had to tell them that their son is missing

When Jason died his dads and Lupa have a bonfire. They burn one of his shirts instead of a funeral shroud.

one of his dads get so drunk that he sobs into Lupa’s fur

Jason’s dads complete Jason’s project of building shrines to the minor gods

They have a small shrine dedicated to both Lupa and Jason in their home

Jason’s glasses sit on the shrine always perfectly polished next to his wolf plush

[normspellsman]

Hello, was wondering if I could request headcanons about gn human reader and Neteyam best friends headcanons? Thank you!

of course! tysm for requesting. hope you like it <3

Human!Reader & Neteyam as Besties Headcanons

• due to being so close in age, it was quite easy for the two of you to get along

• the two of you are like this 🤞🏽 fr

• you two first met when spider decided to drag you out with him during one of his little adventures with lo’ak

• you were smaller than spider & neteyam thought that was so strange. you were roughly the size of a small na’vi toddler & could easily be hurt by the rough terrain of pandora. he immediately felt the urge to protect you.

• he never let you out of his sight that day, being very cautious where he stepped or where you went, not wanting to hurt you.

• he allowed you to ride on his back or shoulders so you could see higher than everyone else.

• the two of you ganged up on lo’ak & spider that day, causing the two boys to pout nearly all day. & you still do it all the time. you both raced the two boys that day & only won because neteyam picked you up last minute & rushed across the finish line.

• ever since then, you two were attached at the hip.

• has a bad habit of ruffling your hair as a sign of affection. it used to anger you to no end but eventually, you just got used to it & let him do it.

• loves taking you on ikran rides & seeing how you react.

• you two have matching bff bracelets that you made for each other that shit’s so cute bro

• neteyam is so paranoid that he’ll lose you whenever you’re hanging out due to the height difference so he makes you hold onto his last finger or makes you wear something in close relation to a backpack leash. you absolutely hate the backpack leash so you just hang onto his large hand or gently grab his tail as you two do whatever.

• you’re the first person he comes to whenever he’s frustrated with lo’ak & seeks your comfort after getting yelled at by his dad. at the end, you always tell him to stop taking the blame for lo’ak & have him face the consequences of his own actions.

• you both have matching beads in your hair as well fr

• you taught him the meaning of pinky promises when he saw you & spider do it. he always does it with you now, regardless of lacking a pinky.

• if you’re female bodied & have a period, poor boy would be so confused on what it meant & how it happens. always asking you questions about it too lol. but nonetheless, he’d try his best to help you in anyway he could to ease your pain. need a blanket? already has one in his arms. need some snacks? on it. craving some yovo fruit? climbing up a tree to get you some as we speak. need a shoulder to cry on? already dusting off his shoulder & sitting next to you so you can. neteyam’s so sweet 😭

• loves annoying you with his tail. he’ll purposely flick it in your face when you walk behind him, hitting you in your eye or cheek. any chance he gets, whack!. no hesitation.

• he taught you how to climb trees & highly regrets it. you nearly out climb him every single time he challenges you. he doesn’t know if he should be proud or angry that you, a human, is as good at climb as any other na’vi is. perhaps your name should’ve been spider instead of the socorro boy lol.

• drags you to dinner all the time. you’re always hesitant since you know of neytiri’s distaste for your kind so you try your best to keep your distance or make up an excuse to not go. but neteyam has none of it. he’ll drag you to family dinner if he has to.

• takes you fishing.

• the first time he did, you almost shot neteyam’s foot 😭. you got better over time obviously but he still flinches sometimes when a bow is put into your hands. boys lowkey traumatized fr.

• jake lowkey thinks of you as his own child 100%

• like, the man sees so much of himself in you that it’s kinda scary.

• you & teyam are definitely the trope opposites attract.

• he’s such a goody two shoes & is the golden child of his family, not a single hair out of place on his head. where as you, you’re more outspoken & adventurous than your friend.

• whenever jake yells at him in front of you, you make funny faces at him to try to get him to laugh, which results in the both of you being yelled at by him & trying so hard not to giggle in response.

• always begs to have some of your human food whenever he sleeps over. you gave him a singular potato chip once & boy went feral over it afterwards. he lowkey loves human food, especially the ones he isn’t supposed to eat lol.

• sleepovers also happen once every week or two. like, it’s a must at this point. he likes seeing how tou get ready for bed & go through your little nightly routine. humans are so different from na’vi & he finds it so interesting.

• during your sleepovers, it mostly consists of hushed whispers as you sneak into the secret stash norm had hidden away, gushing about lab & clan gossip, & making each other even more friendship bracelets.

• overall, such a supportive & amazing friendship between the two of you <3

[whumpitisthen]

I don't know if you take a request!

But, can you write about Whumpee with Stockholm Syndrome who went back to Whumper after finally escaped for a month?

I take requests yes but you must know it takes me four years to come up with a single draft for anything so be prepared to wait an indefinite amount of time!! I tried to keep it short and idk if ive succeeded!! Here you go!!

No Longer a Lie

Their goodbye was the same as a soldier’s going off to war. He may never return, and even if he does, he would return a different man. A sombre, yet loving valediction.

Her smile is watery and proud. The kind, thoughtful, caring old lady that found him that day and took him in believes that he is going home today. He had told her his parents have finally arranged everything ready for him to return. He had explained that they didn't expect him to suddenly show up in their life after so many years again, that they lived abroad and needed time to get his papers in order, that they cannot wait to see him again. She believes he is going to heal and find himself, and be safe under the care of his family.

He was lying. He doesn't have a family. He had lied to this sweet, innocent lady so she would not try to stop him from what he is about to do. She thinks she saved him, and that he is going home. To some extent, that is true.

She packed him a backpack full of snacks, spare clothes, even some money. She bought him new clothes to wear. She walked him to the train station, though her rickety hips barely allowed her to stay standing long enough. She watched him get on the train and waved at him all the way up until they could no longer see each other through the window as the platform grew further and further away.

He only cried once he was sure she could not see.

He retraces every step he took a month prior to this day. He minds the gap, turns every corner. He recognises a flower shop in the suburbs. The large, tilted tree in the park. A large graffiti under the cement bridge is his next sign that he is going the right direction.

Soon, the houses become overwhelmingly familiar. A few more blocks, and he will be there. His legs ache, the new, cheap shoes he got from her rub at his heels with every step, bloodying the rough fabric. He could not stop his journey if he wanted. He feels his very heart dragging him along on a leash, back to where he left a month ago, back to where he escaped.

There it is. A secluded house at the edge of town, fenced off with barbed wire and kept in perfect condition. His soles burn, but his pace only quickens. He knows those chain links. He knows those barred windows. He knows that godforsaken garage door. He is home. He made it.

Oh, she would have never let him go if he told her that he considered this prison his home.

Reaching the outer gate, the intimate feeling of fear choking him arises like an old friend. The last time he saw this place from the outside he only got to for a moment in his haste. A glance over his shoulder in the middle of the night, and then he was gone like a ghost. He wonders what all has changed. He doubts anything has.

He hesitates. They will be angry at him, he's sure. So, so angry. He left without warning, without saying anything. To think he thought he could leave without repercussions instead of owning up to his mistake and suffering the consequences. Now, here he is thirty days later, crawling back on trembling legs, in strange clothing and some fat under his skin to beg for forgiveness. He is the most ungrateful, pathetic creature he can imagine. He's sure he will be told as much once the door opens.

He steels himself and presses the bell. It goes off twice in quick succession thanks to his twitchy fingers. He cannot tell if the overwhelming nerves strangling him are of worry or excitement.

He has been away for too long, trying to function in a place he is no longer meant for. He craves this hell like one would their heaven. He knows it's wrong, he knows he could leave right now and go back to the old lady that took care of him like her own son and he could relearn how to be a person and it would all be okay. He rationalises that it's far too late for that.

The ten seconds that pass in silence after the bell chimes are agony spreading over an eternity. His fingers cramp with how fiercely he fists them to his palm. Eventually, however, the entrance opens, and out steps the devil himself.

He stops on the porch, pausing to make sure his eyes aren't playing tricks on him, but he then quickly crosses the distance between the two of them to jerk the gate open and embrace him before his lost darling could even rant off his apology that he has been writing in his head ever since he first took a step outside of this house.

They stand in silence for a long minute.

This moment feels absolutely perfect. Better than he ever expected it to feel; just the most idyllic scene that goes exactly as he had dreamed it would. The hug feels better than he had imagined, so warm and tight and all-encompassing. His red nose finds its way into the crook of the man's neck, nestling in there. He breathes in deep, taking in the smell of comfort, of the wonderfully known and expected; the familiarity.

“I’ve told you so many times. You do not belong out there anymore.”

In reality, what he had experienced with his freedom was not joy, but layers upon layers of anxiety. Everything was new, everything was unusual, everything was terrifying. What he had grown so used to during his years in this house he threw away in blind greed, wanting more from life than the perfect world his owner had made for him.

At first the freedom was elating. Long forgotten concepts like privacy and control had returned and excited him. But then his new circumstances became tiring. One or two core differences became dozens of alien rules he had to rememorise. Then came shame at experiencing such trouble with something that is meant to be no issue at all for anyone; anyone but him. Normal people don't expect perfect obedience in return for tolerance. Normal people don't have to ask for permission to eat when a plate is put in front of them. Normal people don't have to keep their owners content. Normal people aren't scared of their owners. Normal people don't have owners. These are all things he had to get used to, among the sea of other more obscure examples.

The final straw was his curse of worthlessness. He felt he did not deserve any of this. He ran away. He broke so many rules. He was having awful trouble with his new rules. He was ungrateful. And yet, the old lady only showed kindness and care. No punishments, no threats, not even any mocking or insults. Just relentless, angelic forgiveness. She would not hurt him even when he offered, even when he had asked. He could not handle this; he felt like he was going to go insane with guilt.

His owner had told him this countless times, but only now does he truly understand what he had meant, — the complicated, scary life of a free person just isn't suited for him. Not anymore. He is different. He cannot be left alone for long. He cannot function without clear cut rules, routine or punishments. He doesn't think like everyone else. Above everything, what was killing him every day the most was yearning for his owner. He needs his owner. He cannot be away from him, he depends on him too much. He missed him every day, feeling dumber and dumber each day for being so cowardly.

But now, now he is here again, in his owner's capable hands. Everything will make sense again, all his mistakes will be fixed and he can spend the rest of his life atoning for his naïve stupidity. He will take being locked up in this birdcage for the rest of his life. He will take the sharp, unending burn of punishments each time he slips up. He will take it all without a word if that's what his owner wants. He missed him more than should be possible. He cries. He is so happy.

His relief is crushed as soon as the door locks behind him, and he is once again all alone with the man. His freshly washed hair is grabbed and he is dragged all the way down to the source of all of his nightmares, sent to the floor viciously. His crying turns desperate. He is barely left time to gasp out a plea before he is grabbed again and tied up much too tightly, rope burning over old, thick scarring along his wrists. His cries are muffled with a gag, and his tears are soaked up with a blindfold.

He becomes inconsolable then. He knew this would happen, he knew he would be punished, he knows he deserves it — but this is all too sudden, juxtaposed horribly by the tenderness of that hug that he waited a month for and needed more than he ever realised. Now it's like his owner is a different man, mercilessly restraining him and not saying a word, just like when he is truly furious. He didn't seem angry at all before. His owner seemed as relieved as he did.

He can tell he is dropped off in the middle of the basement by how cold it is and how his skin catches on the drain under him. He is pulled to kneel, and while he tries his best to obey every wordless order, his limbs have become useless jelly, flowing in all the wrong directions.

The punishment is severe. So severe that he is certain he won't survive it. The first to break are his legs. He might not ever be able to walk again, much less run away from consequences. His arms are wrenched behind and up until his shoulders pop, rendering all his limbs useless. They are left there like that, hanging off him like parasites that feed on his agony. He is beaten with something heavy, made of iron. That breaks several more bones, his ribs mostly. His screams start dying down then, not for a lack of trying. The gag muffles every apology he sobs into it, ensuring he will only be able to say sorry once his owner has decided he is truly sorry.

He is reduced to a bag of flesh to be abused. He cannot fight any of it, he cannot see any of it and he cannot stop any of it. He has never felt so much like an object before in his life, not with the old lady, not prior escaping, not prior to being caught. Still, he never even thinks about regretting coming back. He never holds anything against his master, he never holds a grudge or resentment. He deserves this for disobeying him, and his owner deserves his pain as compensation. He deserves this, he deserves this, please, please let him say he deserves all of it and see how he regrets running. He needs to say it, he needs this to end, he wants nothing more than to grovel at the man's feet and sob over and over how worthless he is and how he will never ever try anything like this again.

The only way this can end is if he is forgiven, but he cannot be forgiven until he has apologised.

The blindfold is never removed, not like his bindings and the gag. This distresses him greatly even as he is cuddled in his owner's arms once again, exhausted. The blindfold only ever comes out for the worst of his mistakes. When his master is angry with him. When a simple slap or two or a couple days without food isn't enough. The fact that it is still on even hours after he was finally allowed to beg for forgiveness — he just cannot relax. He supposes that's probably the reason why it's still on. He can’t just forget about what he did so easily with one round of torment. He hopes it will be taken off soon, but at the same time, he has no hope for it coming off in the coming days.

He doesn't even know if he has suffered enough yet. This small thing could very well signal that he will be atoning for this transgression for up to another month; just as long as he had spent away from here. The thought terrifies him enough to sob brokenly into his owner's chest, huddled up against him as he is. He’s rewarded with a light pet. He whispers a thank you.

The man pauses at that, causing his body to tense in preparation of more pain. Wonderfully, however, all that comes is more gentleness, a hand that has hurt him so many times now digging down to the roots of his hair and scratching in a pleasant rhythm. He has never been more thankful. The smallest of kindnesses from his owner are enough for him to forget all about the month of constant mercy from the old lady that took care of him unconditionally. Something must be wrong with him. He doesn't think about that for too long.

“I am so glad you came back,” — his master murmurs.

No one loves him like his master loves him. The old lady… was stupid. She was an idiot. Who would take in a stranger off the street, half-dead, and spoil him like she did? That's moronic. Her kindness — it doesn't matter. Any grain of sweetness from this man means more than a whole year of hers. He loves him. She was just a dumb old lady.

He feels awful for thinking this. His brain is at battle with his heart, trying to convince himself that this is what he is meant to be, that this is right, while feeling a dark emptiness building in his lungs.

Later, once his body is no longer useless and he can do as he is told, he does so. When he is told to clean, he cleans. When he is told to stay still, he stays still. When he is told to hold his breath, he holds his breath. Neither of them mention it. His owner doesn't tease him for falling back into old habits so soon. He doesn't even think to resist or think for himself. This is their norm. Nothing out of the ordinary. How it is supposed to be. Every night, he tells himself he is happy and loved. He feels his owner's arms around him, holding him close, pushing on his dark, painful bruises and he thanks him for allowing him to stay. His master tells him he loves him, and he smiles, saying the same thing.

And he means it.

~

Masterlist | Ko-fi

Taglist: @morning-star-whump @whumprince

[chalkrevelations]

ANYWAY, I guess it’s WIP Friday. I’ve been planning blindfolded Pete for a while now as part of the VP Arranged Marriage AU, and DH does NOT get to have blindfolded Pete, not like THAT, so here. Have some notes for one of the blindfold scenes, as a unicorn chaser for this week. Keep in mind that this is IN PROGRESS and notes-y. This is at some point after they’re arranged-married but before they’re actually sleeping together.

“Would you like me to kill him for you?” Pete says, now looking at Vegas, and Vegas is lucky he’s had plenty of practice at thinking on his feet, because otherwise all he’d be able to do is marvel at exactly HOW hard he just got. Pete sounds deadly serious, and this isn’t even like him being a trained attack dog on the main family leash, now doing Vegas’s bidding. No, this is Pete, offering this like a gift, like he might buy an expensive watch for his husband, if Vegas liked it.

Vegas can feel Pete’s gaze on his face, but he’s smart enough to not look back, because he knows, suddenly and surely, that if he gets a look at Pete now, in this moment, he’ll never be able to look away. And if there’s one thing Vegas is good at, it’s survival. So instead, he never takes his eyes off the asshole on the other side of the table, even as he curls his hand around Pete’s free hand, weaving their fingers together so they’re palm to palm, and raises it to his mouth to kiss Pete’s knuckles. He grins at the asshole across the table over the ridge of them and asks if they need any further assurance.

***

The first time Vegas blindfolds Pete is before a meeting with some supplier where Pete is going along for the main family rep he now provides, but also, a little bit as protection for Vegas, because the minor family – read, Vegas, himself – wants to manage the subtle insult of making it look like he’s only expecting to need to be lightly guarded with these dumbfucks, while not wanting to actually leave himself vulnerable. Vegas perversely both does and doesn’t want to go ahead and blindfold Pete in his bedroom, where Pete’s come, with a roll of his eyes, to have his outfit approved by Vegas, because Pete’s fashion sense - blunted by years in those awful bodyguard suits (the main family actually pays their tailor money?) - has in no way recovered to the point where Vegas is willing to be seen with him unless he’s been vetted first. [Something goes here about Vegas’s satisfaction over knowing that Pete is, pretty much, dressed for him, and how that settles something in his chest that he’s trying more and more not to think about – this is going to require an entire earlier scene to reference back to, a scene dealing with some of the layers involved with Vegas and Pete negotiating the rules for when and how much approval Vegas gets over how Pete dresses, ffs Vegas, and what kind of satisfaction Vegas gets when he looks at Pete and knows not only that Pete’s wearing clothes Vegas has bought for him, but that Pete is consciously and deliberately dressing himself – at least sometimes – in ways that will please Vegas. Also, hah. Something about what Pete actually is wearing, here.]

Putting the blindfold on Pete in his room would mean getting to lead Pete all the way through the winding halls and down the stairways of Vegas’s home, his stronghold - dependent on Vegas’s every move for safety, following Vegas’s every word - but then, the thought of anyone but him seeing Pete that vulnerable eats away at the warm, satisfied feeling Vegas gets seeing Pete in clothes that so clearly mark him as Vegas’s. So he waits until they’re standing together outside in the bright midafternoon sun, waiting for the car to pull up, before he pulls out the strip of black fabric and holds it up, waving it a little bit at Pete. Pete looks at him narrowly in response.

The location where they’re meeting is protected minor family intel, Vegas tells him. He can’t expect to continue professing himself a main family member, even by proxy, and just be allowed to walk in. Would Vegas be allowed to just go wherever he wanted, even in the main family compound?

He can see the way Pete’s jaw firms, a little mulish, before he says, “fine,” and closes his eyes.

Vegas puts the blindfold on him from the front, hoping to see at least another twitch, but Pete is as bland-faced as he ever was while standing against the wall behind Kinn at family meetings - at least until Vegas smooths his thumbs over Pete’s eyesockets under the soft fabric, fingers cupping his face, and Pete jumps, the way he had when Vegas used to clap his shoulder, back in the day, and his breath stutters in a quick, barely-there little gasp.

Neither of them is expecting the way Pete leans on Vegas just a little bit when Vegas takes his arm to help him into the car. Pete’s not privy to the way Vegas’s heart gives a slow double-thump as Pete obediently lowers his head under Vegas’s touch to get in, Vegas cupping the back of Pete’s skull with one palm to be sure he clears the car doorway. Neither of them are expecting the way Pete goes sleepy-soft five minutes into the drive, where the only sound is the quiet hum of the wheels and Vegas keeps one hand circled around Pete’s wrist on Pete’s thigh; neither of them are expecting the way Pete lists a little toward Vegas in his seat when the car finally slows to a stop at the safehouse meeting location. Pete’s a little uncharacteristically clumsy, leans on Vegas a little more, as he climbs out of the car, and as he almost stumbles, Vegas catches him with a hand under one elbow, fingers tight and thumb pressed into the soft flesh of Pete’s forearm where his sleeve is rolled up, hard enough to maybe leave a bruise, later. Pete looks a little dazed, softer than Vegas has ever seen him, when the blindfold comes off, and he turns his head toward Vegas’s hand, looking for all the world like he’s going to try to nestle his cheek into Vegas’s palm, when Vegas brushes his bangs back into place off his forehead, fixing the halfway decent haircut Vegas insisted on instead of that dumb “don’t notice me” bowlcut Pete spent his time looking out at the main family from under.

Vegas’s heart gives another little double-thump as he says, “Hey, wake up, ok? Wake up for me,” and Pete’s eyes meet his at “for me,” and Pete gives a nod, taking a deep breath before rolling his shoulders and stamping his feet a bit and patting himself down in all the places where he keeps the weapons that Vegas is allowed to know about. He lets Vegas take his hand as they walk into the house, into the big dining room where the meeting’s going to be held.

Vegas keeps his hand over Pete’s hand, obvious and in everyone’s face - the hand with the ring on it, and not the family ring, no – on the table where they sit beside each other as the meeting starts. [blah blah blah insert drug supply shenanigans] At some point, when Pete makes a comment – some kind of probing question - the other side of the table makes some kind of reply about doubting this … UNION between the main and minor families.

Pete smiles in response, a sharp smile so unlike the dumbass grin that Vegas has seen in the main family mansion, and asks how they would like him to prove his commitment to Vegas and their common mind on these matters. Vegas’s traitorous brain has a split-second to flash up the image of himself getting to fuck Pete on the conference table in front of everyone like some kind of porno, before Pete continues “Would you like me to kill you for him?” and Pete has one of his guns out, pointing it at the annoying guy across the table, other hand still under Vegas’s on the table, although Vegas can feel how tense he’s suddenly gotten.

“Would you like me to kill him for you?” Pete says, now looking at Vegas, and Vegas is lucky he’s had plenty of practice at thinking on his feet, because otherwise all he’d be able to do is marvel at exactly HOW hard he just got. Pete sounds deadly serious, and this isn’t even like him being a trained attack dog on the main family leash, now doing Vegas’s bidding. No, this is Pete, offering this like a gift, like he might buy an expensive watch for his husband, if Vegas liked it.

Vegas can feel Pete’s gaze on his face, but he’s smart enough to not look back, because he knows, suddenly and surely, that if he gets a look at Pete now, in this moment, he’ll never be able to look away. And if there’s one thing Vegas is good at, it’s survival. So instead, he never takes his eyes off the asshole on the other side of the table, even as he curls his hand around Pete’s free hand, weaving their fingers together so they’re palm to palm, and raises it to his mouth to kiss Pete’s knuckles. He grins at the asshole across the table over the ridge of them and asks if they need any further assurance, sitting back and letting Pete’s hand go only long enough for Pete to put away his gun as the asshole assures them that no, no. They seem perfectly legit.

“I’M getting tired of people underestimating you,” Vegas tells Pete afterward, as they wait, jittery from adrenaline and still on alert, for the car to pull around and pick them up , and Pete kind of shrugs and gives him another of those small, almost real, smiles.

“It happens,” he says, and, it certainly fucking DOES, Vegas thinks, studying him now, because he’d even managed to fool Vegas for so long in the main family mansion, managed to keep even Vegas’s eyes sliding right over him and away.

“Where did you learn that move?” Vegas asks him now, and Pete gives him a look like Vegas is the crazy one.

“From watching Khun Kinn, of course,” Pete says.

Vegas is a little bit uncomfortable at the idea that he got SO turned on by Pete play-acting some “What would Kinn do?” script, but the car pulls up before he can really get too jammed up in his head about it, and then Pete’s just standing there, looking at Vegas, fathomless dark eyes, even after Vegas opens the door for him, until Vegas cups the back of Pete’s head again to guide him into the car, and Pete releases his breath like he’s been holding it since he pulled out his gun, and he bows his head, just as biddable as earlier even though he can see where he’s going this time, and he climbs into the car under Vegas’s touch. He holds very very still as Vegas puts the blindfold back on him. If there’s the faintest, finest tremor in Vegas’s fingers while he does so, while he smooths back Pete’s bangs again so they’re not caught, so they don’t pull, if the catch is in Vegas’s breath this time, neither of them says anything, and they’re both ready to startle like wild animals at first, but as the car gets moving, Vegas deliberately makes himself settle back into the seat.

“Come here,” he says, reaching out, remembering, and there, again, that softening, almost imperceptible, as he closes his fingers around Pete’s wrist, pulls Pete to lean back beside him. They sit there as Pete’s breathing evens out, gets slower, deeper, and this time when he lists toward Vegas, Vegas pulls him to lean on his shoulder and tells Nop to take the long route home.

[poguesholland]

No pressure but if you have time do you think you could ever write something about waking up really early one day with gray? Like you’re chilly and snuggle into him and wake up slow and just lovey and go for a walk around the neighborhood with sledge and some coffee. Idk domestic boyfriend Grayson is just so cute to me ��🥰

Gets a bit steamy at one point but I hope you like it!

-

Your eyes flutter open to be faced with a window, covered in snow. Currently, you were in New Jersey with your boyfriend, Grayson, as he visited his family. You loved coming to New Jersey, it was just so different from where you lived. It was peaceful. And you loved visiting Lisa, Graysons Mom.

Graysons arm was draped over your waist, looser than how it was last night yet still making sure you stayed close to him. His face rested against your shoulder, feeling the small breaths he takes against your skin. You shuffle a bit in place to have a better look outside the window and admire the December weather.

You feel Grayson shift a bit behind you before the arm around your waist tightens it’s grip, pulling you closer to him. A smile finds its way to your face as Grayson hides his face in the crook of your neck, peppering kisses all over. You giggle at the ticklish sensation before turning around to face your handsome boy.

You move your leg to be across Graysons waist and lay down on top of him, sort of straddling him. His hands go to your waist, sliding up the fabric of his shirt which you wore to sleep, to rest against your bare stomach giving you goosebumps. A hand of yours goes to cup Graysons face as he sleepily looks at you with admiration.

“G’Morning baby” Grayson yawns leaning into your palm, closing his eyes to savor this feeling. Smiling softly at his sleepy state, you lean in to leave a deep kiss on his lips. “Good morning, my love” You whisper against his lips, making Grayson smile and lean in to kiss you once more. Your hand tangles in his soft curls as your head rests on his chest, looking up at him.

“It’s snowing” You say, raising your eyebrows as Grayson grins widely. His hands trace random shapes onto your bare skin, the feeling making you relaxed. “Maybe we could take a walk?” He suggests and you hum a quiet ‘okay’. Both of you peacefully take in this lovely moment, a moment where you and no responsibilities or worries. Just here with one another.

That didn’t last long as you heard scratching against the bottom of the bed, looking down to see none other than Sledge, Grayson and Ethan’s dog. But from how much he adores you and Kristina, anyone would think he’s your dog. You quickly sit up to straddle Grayson, reaching down to carry Sledge up onto the bed.

“Gooodd Morning, my perfect boyy, I missed you so much. Yes I did, yes I did!” You exclaim excitedly, as you kiss Sledge all over his face. He gets excited, licking you to give you a kiss. Grayson could not bring himself to understand how you could kiss the dog directly on the lips, he could barely let the furry animal lick him.

Sledge leans up to lick Graysons face, tail wagging with excitement as Grayson smiled widely. “Good morning to you too, was hoping to have a little alone time with my girlfriend but I can share if you want” He talks to the dog, making you giggle.

Sledge lays his head on Graysons thigh, closing his eyes in content as you pet him. “Look at how cute he is! Oh my god, I just wanna eat him up!” You ramble to Grayson at the sight of the dog, making him laugh. Little did you know he was looking at you with the same look of admiration you were giving Sledge, his heart warming at the sight of you bonding with his dog.

“Can Sledge come with us on our walk? Please, I promise I won’t let go of his leash and he won’t get lost again! I even got him that adorable winter outfit with an ice cap and everything, Gray please-” You whine and Grayson laughs, leaving a kiss on your head. “Of course baby, we just need to get dressed”.

You got up and took out your warmest pair of sweatpants and one of Graysons hoodies, taking out a scarf and ice cap for you and Grayson. You weren’t wearing anything under Graysons shirt which you had slept with, so once you took it off, Grayson whistled making you blush. “Stop, Gray!” You whine making him chuckle.

He gets up from the bed to stand behind you as you looked through your closet for gloves, arms wrapping around your bare waist. He buried his head in the crook of your neck, leaving slow kisses from your jaw to your shoulder, his scruff tickling you. “On second thought, maybe we could stay in instead?” Grayson mumbles. You let out a sigh of content as you leaned back into Graysons bare chest, indulging in the feeling of his mouth on your skin.

Graysons hands trail up to your breasts, as he cups them lightly making your breath hitch in your throat. “Gray” You whimpered as you turned your head to face him, leaning in to connect your lips. You hum into the kiss as his fingers brush over your hardening buds, making your head spin.

Suddenly, Sledge barks loudly from the bed, interrupting the two of you. “Do you have to be such a cockblock all the time Sledge?” Grayson groans into the kiss, earning a giggle from you. You run your hands through his hair and pull away from him, “C’mon, get dressed so we can go”.

And both of you get dressed ten minutes later, now having finished dressing Sledge up. You went downstairs to pour some cereal into two bowls for Grayson and you, filling up two glasses of water as well.

Grayson and you quickly finish the breakfast and put on your shoes, along with your winter coats. You put Sledge’s leash on, with some difficulty due to his excitement. As you walk out, Grayson shuts the door behind you. He lightly jogs to reach you, his hand wrapping around your waist to keep you close to him.

He leans down to kiss your cheek, “Coffee?”, knowing you already want coffee. “Coffee”. You head to a small coffee stand and order, Grayson pays for your drinks which you thank him for. You wait for your drink as Sledge tries to run around to escape the leash he had on. “You love walks that much, huh buddy?” Grayson chuckles as he leans down to pet the dog. A smile finds its way onto your face before you take the coffee, thanking the barista and handing Grayson his coffee.

Snuggling up to Grayson, you walk around the snowed out streets of Jersey. “God, I forget how much I miss living in Jersey” Grayson let’s out, eyes scanning the fairytale like scene in front of the both of you. “One day, maybe you will” You hum and he squeezes your waist. “We will” He corrects you as you blush, resting your head on his shoulder.

“That’s very confident of you to say about the future” You joke and he shrugs. “You are my future” Grayson replies softly as you both stop walking. “You think about stuff like that?” You almost whisper, feeling your heart warming by the second. “Yeah, ‘Course I do” Grayson mumbles, his hands resting on your hips to bring you closer to him.

He notices your blush, smiling lightly. “When we get married, we’ll move to Jersey. We’ll get three dogs, that I’ll hopefully not be allergic to, we’ll have kids — have a huge family, if y’want to it’s your body of course — take walks every day and grow old together with Sledge” Grayson continues, and you look at him in awe. “I really won the jackpot with you, didn’t I?” You laugh lightly, a hand of yours going to Graysons neck to lightly pull him towards you and kiss him softly.

He leans his head down, deepening your kiss. “I love you so much” Grayson mumbles into the kiss and you connect your lips once more. “I love you so much more” You let out, your eyes staring into his captivating hazel orbs. He smiles lightly, before turning his attention back to Sledge who had began to get a bit bored.

Sledge begins to get a bit tired, which you take notice of, so you pick him up and try to cheer him up. “Look, Sledge! Everything’s so pretty here!” You point out to him, not even noticing that you were using your baby voice. Grayson takes his phone out to take a picture of you as you were totally unaware, setting it as his lock screen.

He really had everything he needed at this very moment. And he hoped that in the future, he could still be able to say the exact same sentence with you by his side, always.

[starshipsofstarlord]

Hey! Could I request a fic where the reader and Bucky like each other and she has to pretend she’s Zemo’s girlfriend for the Madripor mission? Bucky gets jealous and all that jazz and they confess their feelings :)

Madripoor Muse

Pairing | Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary | Bucky harbours feelings for you, but despite Sam’s inflatable encouragement, refuses to inform you of them. However, seeing you pretend to be Zemo’s girlfriend whilst on a mission, more so when the criminal knows what strings he is pulling at, happens to infuriate him inevitably.

Warnings | jealousy, violence, references to sex work (there is nothing wrong with it, everyone is free to do what they want or need to do to get by, angst, mentions of death, grief, smut, unprotected sex, fluff, swearing

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

“I mean, if he looks like a pimp, then I look like one of his workers.” Sam snorted at your words, as Bucky’s eyes trailed down the skin that was exposed through the small piece of fabric, that in modern days, was considered a dress.

Zemo simply sighed at the pair of you, shaking his head as though the former winter soldier would understand his point. “It’s Madripoor, not an american graduation. You are not going to be clothed in long robes in this place, expression is in the body, and how it is clothed.”

“Or not clothed.” Bucky retorted, frowning at how you shuffled beneath the criminal’s gaze, crossing your arms, which definitely did not help the situation, considering that it did nothing more than make your breasts rise. Admitting defeat, you let them fall, holding them to your sides, outlining your hips, which once more, was not how you wished to be portrayed as you walked through the illuminated air, careful to keep pace in your heels.

“We all have a part to play, winter soldier.” Helmut spoke, his accent causing waves to ripple through the euphoria of lights that lay up ahead. “I am me, you are you, Sam is the Smiling Tiger, and...”

“I’m a hooker?” Once more, Zemo showed disappointment, pinching the bridge of his nose as he turned to you. It seemed that tonight, you, a smart and well coordinated avenger, was absolutely adoring testing his patience, but that was his trick.

He was the captive here, forced to help the forsaken superheroes that had prompted him with the idea of escaping from the government’s ensured facility. And it was without a doubt that he would mess with their minds each chance that he got.

“No, think of yourself as more personalised to one person than that y/n. Your as you people say ‘arm candy’.” He used quotations with his fingers, causing you to reach for Sam’s arm to assume the role. “Oh no, not his.” Zemo made a come here motion, making you gulp.

“You’re kidding, right?” Bucky huffed, glaring unimpressed towards the Baron, who only tutted in reply, implying that he indeed was serious. “This is stupid.”

“Stupid would be allowing this hurrah of new age super soldiers to continue their war path, don’t you think James?” Zemo asked condescendingly, holding his arm out for you to grasp onto, so that you would look more than an associate, or a serum induced bodyguard.

“Me posing as your sugar baby is stupid.” You muttered, as you walked, Bucky on look out behind you, as he glared frustratedly at where you and the mass murderer were touching.

Zemo tugged you by the arm for the comment, causing you to roll your eyes at the man that had tried his best and succeeded, at destroying your team; your family. Nevertheless, you followed his stride, well aware of the sharp eyes of the man behind you.

As you entered the club, a spectrum of blue lights illuminated your skin, as you stared around in wander. There was a variety of all didn’t people, born from different virtues, wealths and races all intermingling around in the space.

If Zemo didn’t have a leash on your arm, you’d have stared for a little longer, perhaps even gotten purposely lost in the sea of bodies that flashed with such ambition and prospect. All were designed to suit their surroundings, and you wished that you could fit in that easily too.

But you were lost, roped into this journey by the Falcon, the man that denied Steve’s wishes and passed on the shield to firmer hands, still uncertain of where you were planning on going. What you needed was a fight, a reason to keep roaming upon the earth. If you came up empty, you may have well have taken up Thor’s offer, and accompanied him with his new friends.

The avengers were disbanded, dotted with different services. You’d heard nothing from Wanda, it appeared that her phone had been cut off, leaving you gravely confused, but you understood that she needed time to mourn. But you couldn’t give yourself the same pampering, if you did so, then all purpose of life would slip through your fingers, and you’d be left vulnerable, a hero that willingly fell from their graces.

Finally you reached the bar, with the shadow of the winter soldier hovering over your shoulder, watching as Zemo’s untrustworthy hand trailed along your furthest collarbone, using it as his sway to grab your attention. He set his sights upon his touch, glaring harshly at it.

No one would question the expression that he wore, it was only natural for his reputation to be proceeded with such a dagger like gaze; he was supposed to be playing the killer that he once was after all.

“My lady, what would you like to drink?” Helmut asked, turning your gaze towards his, gripping your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forbidding you from even try to look away from his sly eyes.

“White wine will do the trick, my love.” The words felt like spew falling from your mouth, but you withheld the impulse to grimace, instead, flashing him a flirtatious smile, fanning his face with your eyelashes as you were still held to face him.

“Fine choice.” He smirked, nodding towards the bartender, who had just presented the Smiling Tiger imposter with a shot that had the intestines of a snake floating around in its liquid. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched as Sam hesitated to drink it for a moment, before throwing it down the hatch, treating it as an old trick.

Madripoor, for an island trapped in violence, didn’t appear that bad on the outside. That was, until the shooting began, causing the lot of you to leg it from the citizens targeting their rifled hardware towards you, running with your lives depending on it.

You had temporarily lost Zemo, as you put head your own safety, your pace and spot being just between Sam and Bucky, as the first man’s arms flailed as he insisted that he could not run in the heels that he was wearing. Huh, you’d be running in heels all your life, maybe he shoulda learned how to do so earlier, it came as a great talent.

Gunshots rang out, as a hooded figure unveiled themselves, introducing the older face of a blonde that you had once knew. It had been quite some time since you had last seen her, all having gone your separate ways to evade the law, and its cruel jurisdiction. “Sharon?” Bucky spoke, instantly recognising the woman that had aided them in the past.

Once you were all reintroduced, and met with her annoyance, which was surely understandable, she led you to her property, where you were able to part from the Sokovian, and share your distaste to the man, as well as remove the skimpy dress.

It pooled at your feet as you tossed it from your ankle, leaving you in nothing more than your underwear. As you squinted, searching for some reason that you were continuing with this foolishness of thinking that the world still considered you a hero, an echo of a knock rattled against the door. It was metal upon wood; Bucky.

“Come in.” You spoke, as you tied a spare robe around your waist, watching as the super soldier, who appeared less stoic, and more human stepped into the room, closing the door behind his emerging shadow. “You alright man?”

Bucky’s eyes drifted down for a moment, before they splintered back up towards your face, his jaw physically tensing, the notion well visible. He breathed in a long breath through his nose, as he stepped closer, his brow harsh and lined upon his forehead.

“I didn’t like Zemo putting his filthy hands on you.” He admitted aloud, the words of Sharon, teasing him for pining after someone that he had once thought of as no more than a friend of Steve’s. But now that man was gone, and so was the one that he used to be. Instead, he was left standing on his own feet, having to find balance by himself somehow.

“Neither did I.” You informed him. “It was like he was pulling back the images of his collapsing country, pouring every ounce of pain and hatred upon me, evading my mind with guilt, and the memories of what it all amounted to. None of it had been worth it, living like this. We’re treated like animals, no longer idols or heroes, people under the big thumb that keeps pressing down on us.”

“Well we’re both pressed down, limited to our rules and the outlines they want us to obey.” He nodded, raising his flesh hand to your collarbone, wanting to mark his touch upon it to remove that of Zemo’s. At his action, your breath hitched, but you allowed him to sweep his pads over the flesh, shuffling indefinitely closer so that you were chest to chest.

“We’re dangerous in their eyes. That’s a mindset they have in common with our prisoner out there.” You whispered, frowning from the thought. Two monarchies, one still whilst the other already fallen, served the same opinions, though, only one could continue to take action. Zemo was a Baron, but of what country now?

Like all, his home had been vanquished into smithereens, the foundations collapsing into rubble, the history disappearing with its lands, having thrown its dusty remnants in your face.

“I’m fine with being considered dangerous so long as I’m not alone.” He pinched your chin, tilting your head, this time though, you felt in his grasp. It didn’t belong to that of an enemy, it was one of an ally, a friend. “Tell me I’m not alone y/n.”

“I’m here James.” You stared up at him with focused pools, biting your lip as your mind went haywire over everything. “The Wakandans will come for him, you do realise that, right?” He hummed in reply, briskly bringing his metal hand to toy with the belt of the white wrap around.

“Do you think that you could show me that I’m not alone?” He nervously asked, shuffling his weight from foot to foot, as he awaited a reply. But instead of words, he earned himself the sensation of your lips upon his, collaborating in a touch starved jumble of grunts. “You’re beautiful, like...”

“Like what Barnes?” You prompted, brushing your palms onto his shoulders, easing his tenseness. Expectedly, you watched him through half lidded eyes as you leant up to plant supple kisses upon his neck, sucking his skin into your mouth, as though you were trying to thread it gently with your teeth.

“A muse.” He sighed, thinking for a momentum, before dragging your hair through his vibranium fist, lightly grinning as he heard your breath wither from the sensation. “A beautiful muse, one that reminds me to be better everyday. I want to become someone better for you.”

“You shouldn’t.” You unlatched your mouth from him, frowning lightly at the brunette man. “You should become better for nobody but yourself Buck, each day, it’s about self growth, fixing everything that you have ever been taught so that you can learn to do better next time, so that no one else will die because of your expense.”

Bucky nodded, allowing your words to sink in. His fingers returned to playing with the waist band on your robe, his eyes gazing into your own, as he fiddled with the material. “Can I?”

“Go ahead.” You granted him permission, allowing him to push the coverage from you, his eyes widening at seeing you in nothing more than your underwear. His sight traced every curve and bump and dip that was upon your shape, licking his dry lips to make his gawking less subtle.

“You’re killing me doll.” He leant his head back, as he raked his contrasting fingertips down your shoulders, all the way to the small of your back. You smirked, grasping him through his jeans, earning yourself a moan from the elder man.

“I said it’s all about self growth, didn’t I? It seems that you are taking that in quite a literal sense.” You rubbed him through the denim, finding it unsurprising as the man backed you towards the bed, your knees hitting the end sending you falling onto the mattress.

Bucky crawled his way atop of you, rutting his hips against your own. It had been so long since he had been permitted to be this free, and he knew for sure, this would be a secret that he would not inform any therapist of. This was private, the sentiment making it close to his weathered heart.

His lips returned to your own, as your hands scaled beneath your shirt, lightly tracing the scars. He wasn’t as insecure as he thought he’d be about someone touching them, perhaps it was because many of your own materialised stories were written in your skin, or that you understood what it meant to be a soldier, serving under orders.

It didn’t matter too much, he wasn’t overthinking it. Instead, he was yearning as he grasped at the straps of your bra, trying to pull it over your head, as was done with the dames back in his day, but the effort seemed more difficult. Lightly leaning away from him, you reached around your back, unclamping the contraption before tossing it out of his sight.

He didn’t care to ask what the modern day had done to the garment, he was far too focused on your pert nipples, and how they stood to attention before him. The super soldier reached forwards, running his smooth hands upon the underneath of your breasts, before interacting with the present buds, softly tugging at them with his whimsical fingers.

“You’re wearing too many clothes.” Released from you as a sign, instantly becoming pleased as Bucky stripped himself from everything but his underwear, leaving a nest of his clothes upon the wooden floor, as he leant his head down, capturing your left nipple within the warmth of his mouth, moaning lightly as your hands weaved through his locks, tugging lightly at the short roots. “Stop teasing Buck.”

He didn’t miss the way your eyes roll from the slowness of motions, and thus, he reached down, and snapped the band of your underwear, the ripping noise audible, as he then pulled his boxers down, revealing his bobbing cock, that was directing its tip towards your entrance.

With a glance down, he lightly drooled at the way your cunt clenched around nothing, quickly swiping his fingers through your slit, as he brought them up to his lips, humming contently at the flavour that graced his tastebuds. “Need to be in you doll.”

“Need you in me soldier.” You taunted back, digging your knuckles into his shoulders as you pressed him against you, pushing your tongue into his mouth, as he suddenly bottomed out inside of you, waiting for a moment for the pair of you to adjust to the sensations.

He was in you, filling you to the brim, as you tucked your heels into the base of his back, lightly rotating your hips up, as your tongue chased his own, sucking on it as you nipped at the end, causing him to unintentionally jerk his rigid cock into you.

That had prompted him to start moving, screwing his hands into the satin sheets either side of your head, as your bodies succumbed the others to waves of pleasure. It was a luxury, having an outlet to all the stress that your duty brought. If you could just pass the mantle on like Steve had done, and Clint was in the process of doing, you would.

But it was all you had known; the gritty route, that had spanned the entirety of your tale. And Bucky now became a part of it, as he became a part of you, unravelling your vulnerabilities with sleek thrusts into your cunt, and smooth words that had swept you from your feet and had landed you in a bed.

A bed thats structure was creaking from the strength behind the animalistic carnage that you spent on one another. His teeth pulled at your lip, opening your mouth so that you could use him as an oxygen mask. Neither one of you had noticed the door opened, and an unimpressed Sharon standing in the entry way, her agent arms crossed unamused.

She cleared her throat, which made Bucky still inside of you, and you to clutch onto his back, to cover the decency of your chest. “You let me go on the run, then you fuck in my bed. It’s like I’m not allowed to belong anywhere.”

“Sharon-“ she halted your speech by raising a finger, her eyebrows pointedly telling you not to bother trying to speak, as sweat beading down your body. Bucky subtly rolled from atop of you, quickly pulling the sheets over you both, giving Sharon views that she neither wanted nor appreciated.

That was grittiness, she was a hustler, not a once avenger. A part of you wished she would understand that, as much as it would be painful to hear, she hadn’t been the top of anyone’s list. She had disappeared, and from so, she had became unreachable, practically falling off the face of the earth.

But she had been here, in Madripoor, the island of bones and whatever else Zemo had described it to be. “You two fucked in my bed. Okay.” She remained cool headed, her eyes trailing through the various fabrics among her floor. “Thought I’d tell you to get ready, and to blend in, though you two have that part already figured out. There’s some clothes in the wadrobe, and from what I can tell, you’re going to need new underwear.”

She bothered no longer once she had informed you of what she had told the other men. Instead she simply left, only for you to brace your head back into the quality pillows, slumping, and dreading the journey ahead.

Though you seemed restless, Bucky still thought of you as a muse. His hands grasped your chin, leading your lips to his own, as he sucked on your bottom one, his right hand grasping one of your breasts, as he pulled you atop of him, your skin flushed as you steadied your weight over his tough thighs.

“Now this is a dangerous sight.” He clicked his teeth, trailing his large hand down from your jaw, surpassing the middle of your chest, to your hip, which he grasp, as he shuffled you up just a little, so that you were seated upon the base of his cock.

“I can show you dangerous Barnes.” You smirked, adjusting the both of you so you were ready to sink down on his length. Your hands softly stroked his erect shaft, as you tapped his tip upon your pussy, before pushing down, filling yourself up one more.

Madripoor was a bad place, but good things could come out of visiting the skull island. This was the job, though, breaks were prompted, and were you glad that Bucky had became your little bit of calm in the arising trouble in the world.

“Fuck.” He groaned beneath you, his balls clenching as he felt you writhe all the way down to his base, beginning to bounce upon him, the years of training that you had endorsed coming in handy as it had helped your stamina. He was a super soldier after all, you were surely going to need it.

[dddytoji]

my pet

notes: naoya x fem!reader x toji // this is my first time writing a smut and my first jjk work as well so please give me any constructive feedback! (shout out to my best friend for being my editor and helping me out with this self indulgent one shot!) please enjoy! :)

word count: 4,438

warnings: 18+ NSFW; dub con, degrading, insulting, misogyny, pet play/master, slapping, spitting, pegging, cock sounding/stuffing, naoya x reader x toji, etc

You were going to a regular family dinner with your fiancé, Naoya Zenin. You were seated waiting for Naobito and Naoya to begin dinner. "Well we're just waiting on one more person for tonight's dinner." Naobito stated with a bit of distaste. He took a long sip of his sake. You peered at Naoya who looked irritated at the idea of whomever it was would be sharing a meal with the rest of you.

"I'm getting tired of waiting so let's dig in, we can't just wait on him." Naobito said, beginning to eat his food. You waited for Naoya to also have his first bite before you proceeded to eat as well. "She's such a good wom-" Naoya began before he was interrupted by the door sliding open.

"Ah, pardon the interruption." The man said walking in and seating himself right across Naoya with a small thud. He was a very well built man. Your ears burned red from seeing the way he was structured. He was more attractive than Naoya, if you so boldly admitted to yourself. "Oh, is this lady Naoya's wife to be?" The dark haired man questioned as he ate his food.

Naoya seemed more agitated, allowing Naobito to answer instead. "That's correct." Quietly, you ate your food keeping your eyes glued to the dinner in front of you. "I'm Toji, what's your name?" Toji asked you as you looked up to meet his eyes for a moment before answering politely. "Y/n," You spoke back, noticing how his face was rough with a certain gentleness when seeing it clearly.

"You need not speak to my fiancé so directly." Naoya responded staring at Toji with hooded eyes, the tone of his voice underlined with anger. "Eh? Well then how am I to speak to her?" Toji asked puzzledly, pointing his chopsticks at Naoya. Naoya replied, "Through me. She is a woman after all and mine at that."

Toji let out a hard taunting laugh. "Toji!" Naobito yelled, taking another drink of the sake bottle now in his hand. You jumped at the sudden loud voice. "Fine, fine," Toji sighed with his eyes now hooded, "but she's not even yours yet what makes you think she'll last long enough to actually stay with you. She doesn't even know if you're even capable of making her c-'' Toji was cut off by Naoya who gripped his shirt collar.

"Naoya," You spoke, grabbing his sleeve lightly, "please do not lower yourself to his level." Naoya removed his eyes from Toji's and glared back at you. Glancing back at Toji he shoved his chest and he let go of his shirt. "You're right," Naoya spoke with a distasteful tone as he glared at Toji, "I shouldn't lower myself to the level of gravel like him."

Toji scoffed a smirk playing along onto his handsome lips, "Seems like your woman knows how to restrain your leash." Chuckling, Toji shoved more rice into his mouth.

"If anyone has a leash on any one, it's me on her." Naoya responded back, taking a drink of the rice wine in his cup. Your ears burned with fury listening to Naoya speak about you in that form. You were no one's leashed pet, especially not his. You weren't even his wife yet and he already speaks of you in this way? Audacity. That's all he had. You were only obedient enough to be respected and not get insulted.

You kept up a gentle and sweet act in order to live a peaceful life in this stern household. "Naoya, I am no pet to be owned." You replied back to him in a calm and stoic tone while looking straight ahead. "She's got a point there." Toji agreed, while swallowing the food in his mouth.

Naoya turned your head to him by grabbing your chin forcefully. "No woman, especially you, shall speak to me in that manner. If I say you're a pet, then you're a fucking pet." He spat at you angrily while pushing your face away from him while releasing your jaw.

Taking a deep breath you stood up from your seat, "If you'll excuse me, I have finished my meal and will be heading back to my quarters." You announced, exiting the room without a glance back at the men sitting at the table. Toji was slightly shocked at the scene that just happened in front of him. The black haired man glances at Naoya to see his reaction.

"Pathetic woman." is all Naoya says out loud as you leave the room still being in earshot of you. You balled your fists hearing his comment.

Naobito who is also a bit shocked speaks up, "Well I think I'll be taking my leave as well." The head of the clan leaves the room with a bottle of sake in his hand.

"Go fucking apologize," Toji barks to Naoya with a bitter tone. "No, why should I? She's the one who's acting out of place." Naoya retorted, taking another drink from his cup. "You're gonna go apologize, cuz I said you are." Toji gritted out, Naoya glared at him angrily.

• • •

You had just arrived at your quarters and slammed your bedroom door shut. You were infuriated that you couldn't say anything. "What I would do to have that man on all fours in front of me." You said bitterly through gritted teeth. You began removing your kimono, annoyed at the fact that you had to wear these damn things daily.

Opening your closet door you are greeted by more kimonos and only slip on dresses to sleep in. You spotted the black box on the bottom corner of the closet. Maybe some self-pleasure would relieve my frustration. You shook your head against the thought and just grabbed the black slip-on dress.

Walking over to your vanity you removed any residue of the day's stress. You got yourself changed and ready for bed. Finally letting your hair down, you settle yourself into a futon that was placed on the ground in the middle of your room.

As you try to put your thought-full mind at ease to get some sleep, you hear the entrance door slide open then shut. Shuffling noises are heard then right after the sound of footsteps creeping to the door of your room hit the wooden floor boards.

Sitting up immediately you go to grab your robe hooked near the door as you slip it on you hear, "I'm coming in, woman." You hear Naoya's voice echo with a dejected sigh. The door slides open, revealing Naoya standing there with his arms crossed.

He's a bit shocked seeing you standing in front of him in only your open robe and your slip dress on. His face flushes and he looks away, "Put something decent on, woman."

"Woman?" You question. You were now at your wits end with him for the night. "Eh? Do I have to wear something decent in my bedroom? You came here at an indecent time, Naoya." You angrily spat poking his chest.

He looked at you now in disbelief that quickly morphed into anger. He grabbed the wrist of the hand poking his chest. "I guess it seems like you don't know your place tonight," Naoya hissed, walking you back into your bedroom getting closer to the futon that laid on the ground.

"No, it seems like you don't know yours." You mocked knocking him down to his knees and lifting his chin to look up at you. Through the faint bit of moonlight seeping through your window, you were able to see his appalled expression.

"Why you-" Grabbing his cheeks and squishing them together, you stopped all other words ready to come out of his mouth.

He grabbed your wrist with both of his hands. Before he could do anything; in a swift motion you removed the robe's waist tie and tied it around Naoya's wrists. You were surprised that you managed to tie his wrists as quickly as you did.

Holding his wrists above his head, "Tonight, I'll train you on how to be a good little bitch for your master." You growled out, releasing his face and pushing it away. "You crazy whore, let me go." Naoya swore in anger, his entire body trembled in rage as you stood looking down at him.

Pulling him down by his wrists that you were still holding, you made him land on his elbows with a thud to the ground. You laughed menacingly, walking towards the closet and pulling out the black box in the corner. "You think this is funny? You fucking cunt!" Naoya screamed at you as you walked back over to him.

You used your foot to lift his head, "It is, especially when this is how we'll be experiencing our first night together." You smiled innocently. Opening the box and emptying the contents; some toys, bottles of lube, and condoms came falling out.

Naoya looked at you stunned in fear after seeing the contents of the box displayed on the ground. "You dumb worthless wench! What do you think you're gonna do?!" He howled, anger seething through his expression. You bent down to grab his face and slapped him.

"A dog does not speak unless ordered to." Naoya's anger made his body quake. The fact you dared to speak to him in that form and to even slap him was unacceptable and ludicrous.

"Untie me you stupid whore before I decide to kill you!" Naoya cursed glaring daggers at you. You slapped him again across his face then again, and again, then again one more time.

"YOU FUCKING SLUT! UNTIE ME RIGHT NOW SO I CAN KILL YOU!" Naoya was furious at this point. You stood up and kicked his side hard enough for him to land on his back.

"I told you, I will be training you on how you should obey your master." Reaching for the collar and leash that was mixed on the ground with the other toys, you sat on him pulling at his blonde hair to lift his head from the pillow making it easier to place the collar around his neck. you smiled in love with the view of seeing him under your control.

"Get that shit off me!" Naoya demanded. Grabbing his chin you brushed your thumb pad across his bottom lip. "Now, Why would I do that? You look so good with it on. Like a proper pet." You leaned closer to him enough to let his lips brush yours.

Grinning, you whispered lowly in his ear, "The way you look right now turns me on so much." You proceeded to give him a soft kiss on his jawline. Swallowing hard, Naoya looked at you with his rage filled eyes. Awaiting what else you'd do, and how far you'd think of going.

As you slide yourself lower on him, your womanhood sat directly on his dick. Undoing his top you opened it exposing his well-built chest. Now sitting on his dick it hit you, that he was aroused.

"Well look at what we have here my slutty pet? Looks like I'm not the only one enjoying this." You grind your womanhood down on his growing bulge making Naoya's breath hitch in his throat.

You positioned yourself in between his legs with his legs on either side of your hips. "This shit is not turning me on you fucking slut." Naoya said insultingly. You removed his pants and then traced a finger on the outline of his underwear where his bulge stood out. Judging By the tent in his underwear alone, you could tell that the blonde man was huge.

"Calling me a slut when you're the one whos leaking." You poke at the tip of his dick where a small wet spot has been created from precum. Naoya had no retort for what you said, all he can do is grit his teeth in anger as you pull off his underwear. His cock springs up, the night air hitting his exposed member. You run a finger from the base of his cock to the tip.

You are just a tad bit shocked at how large his cock is. Maybe this was what he traded for instead of having a decent personality. "Well, just know I'm not nice enough to let you cum anytime soon." You commented as you reached for some lube and the beaded sound laying on the floor.

Naoya shook his head seeing the metal beaded rod in your hand he already assumed what your intentions were. "I'll make sure it doesn't hurt too much, darling." You scoffed at the word ‘darling’ leaving your lips. After having lubed up the sound you stroked Naoya's cock with your free hand to get him to relax.

As soon as he seemed more relaxed you spread the opening of his cock and started placing the beaded sound into his opening. Naoya's eyes widened, filling with tears at the foreign object being inserted into his cock. "FUCK! YOU INSANE PSYCHO BITCH!!" He bellowed out as you slowly pushed the sound into him.

After a few more curses and muffled cries, it was fully in. "Now, that wasn't too bad." You gave him a gentle smile. You stroke his dick gently feeling it twitch in your grasp. Naoya looked at you with fuming glossy eyes.

Tracing your fingers up and down his abdomen you felt just how toned he was, maybe not as buff as another certain Zenin but nicely toned. Your fingers slowly went to tease his nipples rubbing them in a circular motion.

Naoya lowered his arms down to move your hands away, "I'm not a woman! Do not pla-'' Before he could finish you pulled on the leash attached to his collar yanking him towards your face.

"If its only a place to tease women, then why is your dick twitching like a dog in heat?" You breathe out amused. Taking that moment you grab his face spitting on him. Standing up you removed your robe along with the slip dress leaving you only in some black lace-trimmed panties.

Naoya's face began to burn a crimson red, this was the first time he has ever seen your body naked. He had never seen you so exposed and bare like this, he hated to admit how much he loved the way your body looked lightly lit by the moonlight. You placed yourself back in between his legs once again grabbing the lube, you poured it on Naoya's cock letting it flood down between his ass.

Using one hand to stroke his dick while your other hand slid in between his ass. He froze sensing your second hand's action. "Don't you fucking dare you lowly whore!" He barked, his eyes widening in anger as you smirked and proceeded in plugging your index and middle finger in him. "I already let you stuff my dick! You damn lunatic!!" Naoya fumed as you resumed.

"You have no place to talk when you're g-spot is literally in your ass bitch." You sneered going further in him and spreading him out. As you began to pump into him with your fingers spreading him in the process. He muffled his moans and whimpers by biting his lip.

You let go of his dick and slapped it. "I never said not to make noise, bark for your master, disobedient bitch." You commanded as he let out a sharp gasp. He gritted his teeth, closing his eyes as you added another finger.

Proceeding to pump into him faster, making him arch his back and causing his breathing to become erratic. "S-Stop please!" He moans out, finally you had managed to hit his prostate.

"Call me master and I might consider your request, useless dog." You growled at him, pulling out your fingers. Naoya shuddered at the release of your fingers from his now begging hole. You were about to grab your strap on when you heard a knock at your bedroom door.

Frozen in place for a second, you placed a finger to your lips signaling Naoya to keep quiet, "May I ask who?" You called out as you glanced at Naoya to make sure he kept his mouth shut. Surely he wouldn't want to get caught in this situation.

"Uh, it's me Toji, I wanted to make sure Naoya didn't upset you more than he already has," Toji responded from the other side. Your mouth formed a small 'o' as you glanced back at Naoya. A smirk forms on your pretty plump lips. Naoya scowled at you and at Toji's response.

"He hasn't upset me further, but please come in." Naoya shakes his head furiously, obviously he didn't want to be seen below a woman nor did he want Toji to see his woman exposed. "Alright, I'm coming in." Toji slid the door open slowly, his head peered into the room. The dark haired male was in shock after witnessing Naoya and yours position on the futon.

"Would you care to join us?" You proposed a bit of a gleam in your eyes. Toji froze for a moment but then proceeded to walk in without saying a word, closing the door behind him. He gripped at the edge of his shirt and pulled it over his head making his way over, revealing his buff and sculpted build.

"You're into this shit!?" Naoya questioned as he saw Toji approaching you from behind. "Did I order you to speak?" You questioned, slapping his cock. Naoya flinched at the action inhaling a sharp breath.

Toji chuckled looking down at Naoya, "Seeing you getting treated like dirt by such a pretty lady, kinda tickles my taste." Toji sank onto his knees behind you.

"I'm gonna do what you haven't and fuck your woman," Toji smirked taking your breast into his hands, you could feel the rough callouses on his hands as they groped your breast. You sensed the bigger man's muscles flex against your bare back.

You bit your lip as you felt his hands roam your body. Naoya's body shook with enmity, "Get your fucking hands off of her you fucking bastard!" He demanded trying to sit himself up.

You grabbed the leash and pulled him up as close as possible to your face, "You're going to shut the fuck up and watch your master get her cunt fucked." You hissed cupping his face with your other hand. Kissing his lips roughly Naoya returned the kiss back with the same roughness. Ending the kiss you pushed him back down onto the futon.

Toji continued to explore your body with his hands. He let soft kisses touch your nape, slowly making his way to your left shoulder. His left hand was groping your right breast while his right hand wandered down inside your black panties.

"Wow, you're fucking wet," Toji breathed into your ear his deep voice causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. His fingers quickly found your clit and he began to massage it in a circular motion. He was gentle with his motion, but going at a steady pace just enough to make your body tremble with enjoyment.

You let out soft moans as he let his hands pleasure and unwind you. "On all fours pretty lady," Toji commanded, you followed his orders and positioned yourself on all fours. Your face was now in front of Naoya's throbbing cock.

The blonde man watched as you were bottomed out by Toji, this view infuriated him. He hated seeing Toji as the one you were submitting to, Naoya's frustration grew by each tortuous second. Toji proceeded to remove the garment inclosing your soaking pussy. The chill night air hitting your womanhood made you gasp softly.

Toji laid on his back his head in between your legs underneath you. You let out a moan as soon as you felt Toji's tongue start to lap your soaking pussy.

Naoya's dick began to twitch again hearing your moans get louder. It was making him more eager to have you touch him. "Fuck." Naoya exhaled.

"Tastes so fucking good," Toji moaned between each lap of his tongue gripping your thighs. He used his fingers to enter your hole, "Loosen up for me, princess." Gasping loudly, you gripped the sheets of the futon as his fingers began to pump in and out of your pussy.

You let your body move on it's own, fucking yourself on his thick fingers. "Y/n! Fuck please." Naoya breathed out desperately. Your mouth opened as you began to tongue Naoya's cock not wanting to deprive him too much.

In reality, you wanted to take Naoya's full cock in our mouth, but since you were in the midst of training this misbehaved dog, maybe another time.

"I'm going to cum!" You screamed as you came all over Toji's fingers, your legs trembling from the sensation. The dark haired male made sure to clean up all of your spilling juices with his mouth.

Toji repositioned himself on his knees and pulled you up by your arms so you were on your knees again. "Can't believe Naoya hasn't had the pleasure to enjoy your taste." Toji smirked and looked at Naoya, he grabbed your chin so he could kiss you.

"Taste yourself, my lady." Toji bit your bottom lip making you open your mouth allowing his tongue to explore the inside of your mouth. Pulling away you smiled innocently seeing Naoya's flushed face due to him being probably mad or frustrated, whatever it was you liked the expression.

"I have to give my pet the rest of his training and if he takes it well he can fuck his master's cunt next time too." You grabbed the strap on and put it on yourself, making Naoya flip and position himself with his ass up.

You proceeded to grab the lube and spanking paddle, placing the lube on Naoya to make it easier on yourself and him to slip in. Naoya was surprisingly being very complacent now, maybe seeing how Toji satisfied you made him want to do the same.

While you prepped Naoya, Toji removed his pants and underwear, tossing them to the side with the mess of clothing scattered on the floor. The heavenly carved man used his hand to pump his throbbing hard cock, getting it ready to fuck the life out of you.

"Time for some training bitch." You said sliding the attached dildo into Naoya. You hear his muffled gasp, you used the paddle to spank the blonde male's ass. Naoya jerked his head to the side at the shutter of pain coming from his ass. "Your master wants to hear her slutty pet moan, so refrain from keeping quiet." You ordered spanking him again.

Finally you were fully taken in by Naoya you then began pumping into his plump ass. You started at a slow enough pace to let Toji insert himself inside you.

You felt his cock fill you up. He was big and his girth filled your tight pussy. Your walls clenched around his cock almost about to cum from him just entering you. Toji gripped your waist, "No cumming this easily, my lady." He hummed into your ear.

Snapping back your head nodding at his command and you happily continue thrusting into Naoya. Picking up the pace Toji met you with the same rhythm while his left hand was placed on your neck gently squeezing the sides with his fingers and thumb.

His right hand squeezed and groped your left breast; with your hand on Naoya's waist to keep your pace steady. Naoya's grunts and moans echoed through the dimly lit room as you begin to hit his prostate.

"Please stop!" Naoya whimpered as he starts to feel the immense pleasure from having you fuck him. Toji's grunts and moans get louder filling the room as well. "Please, please! I hate you! You fucking piece of shit woman!!" Naoya cursed through waves of pleasure.

You used the paddle to reprimand him for cursing. You're able to see the tint of his ass get redder with the little bit of moonlight peaking in, it was a full moon out tonight and your body and mind were in bliss.

You kept thrusting, hitting Naoya's prostate repeatedly, "I wanna cum! I wanna cum! Let me cum please!" Naoya pleaded out to you. Now you just had to see his expressions, imagining it when it was right in front of you wasn't sufficing. Toji kept his rhythm as he was also close to his peak.

Your smooth hand grabbed Toji's wrist to stop him as you halted your movements into Naoya. Pulling out of the blonde man, you flipped him over on his back. His face flushed and wet with tears, his eyes sparkling with wetness making the sadistic side of yourself excited.

Seeing him in that state made your pussy get wetter than it was already. Toji felt you squeeze around his cock at the view of your fiancé looking like a pathetic animal. You grabbed Naoya's cock and removed the beaded sound slowly from his flushed-pulsing cock.

With each of the beaded rod sliding out Naoya panted and moaning once it was fully extracted from his huge cock. "Please make me cum, Master." Naoya whined while looking at you completely bottomed out.

Your face blushed as you repositioned yourself back into Naoya. Toji started again as well once you got to a good pace. Picking up the speed of your thrusts, you were ready to make his dick unload the cum he had been building up.

Naoya was now shamelessly moaning and grunting as you were hitting his sweet spot repeatedly. He arched his back to feel each thrust you did. Deciding  to add to his pleasure you pumped his cock in your hand, making him throw his head back at the blissful feeling.

Toji kept thrusting into you, hitting your g-spot and making you throw your head back in satisfaction as well. Moans cascading out of your mouth a symphony. Your panted as your walls clenched around him as you were getting close to your orgasm.

"I'm cumming!" all three of your pleasured voices mixed at once as you reach your climax. Removing yourself from Naoya, his cum squirts all over his own chest.

Toji pulls out of you, cumming on your back all the while your legs tremble as you cum as well. "I fucking hated this," Naoya grunted out breathing heavily. You smirked at your fiancé and questioned him, "Wanna get your brains fucked again, you dumb crybaby pet?"

[a-n-conrad]

Pet (Karl Heisenberg x Reader)

[Summary: After being gifted to Heisenberg, you manage to survive his games. From there you start to develop an interesting relationship. And as you start to play the role of his pet, things get a bit interesting. (She/Her pronouns)

Warnings: SMUT, unhealthy relationship dynamics, Author belongs in horny jail, Reader has “female” anatomy, themes of pet play, swearing, biting (Blood), reader is losing her sanity a bit, spanking, oral (both receiving), hair pulling, unprotected penetrative (vaginal) sex

Request: Literally, not a single person asked for this. You only have me to blame.]

You felt a bit foolish, being in the situation you were in. You had been one of the people gifted to the “Lords” of the village to do with as they pleased by Mother Miranda. You had to admit, when you were frightened, even more so when you were handed over to the infamous “mad wolf-man”. He had quite the reputation. But unlike the others, you had proven yourself useful enough for him to keep you around, instead of experimenting on you or feeding you to his lycans.

You survived at first by staying out of his way. It was like a game to him. Heisenberg liked games, and you adapted to them rather quickly. At first, the game was to be the perfect assistant. You’d clean, cook, do minor repairs, and stay out of his way as needed. You were there when he needed you to do something, you’d do it perfectly, and then you’d be out of his sight. And he’d try to catch you slipping up, making you nervous with whispered promises of the punishments that awaited you if you did.

It was an odd dance, having to learn the ins and outs of Heisenberg’s moods. Learning how to tell when he was in a bad mood, and when he was in the mood to joke. And as time went on, it seemed that there were more days when he was in the mood to sit and banter with you. And you started to bond a bit, less as captor and captive, and more as something close to friends, though you wouldn’t necessarily call it friendship.

Eventually, he started to grow a bit fond of you, occasionally joking with you that he had started to see you as a pet. He’d grin a bit as he called you pet names, names that were somewhere between affectionate and demeaning. He’d pat your head, like he was praising a dog, when you did something right. He had even joked about making you a collar to show the rest of the Lords that you were his pet.

You knew you probably should’ve hated it. You should’ve gagged at the idea of a collar, and you should’ve hated his pet names. But you didn’t. You found yourself grinning when he called you a “good girl”. You leaned into his touch when he’d pat your head. You could feel yourself losing your sanity. You had to be insane to feel this way, but as you got to know Heisenberg, you found yourself feeling as though it was worth it.

Karl Heisenberg was an interesting man, and one you had to admit that you were fascinated by. He had a biting form of humor that had become much funnier as you realized you weren’t in the danger that you thought you were, and you could hear the intelligence behind it. His jokes were always at least a little clever, as long as he could keep his head. He was complex, with motivations and actions that didn’t always match. And his emotions were so complicated that you were pretty sure he hadn’t even started sorting through them, choosing to instead deny their existence.

He was a mess of a man. He got mad enough to throw metal scraps of rusted metal around the room when an experiment went wrong. He’d rant for hours about the issues he had with his “family”, having to hold himself back from breaking things when he got to Alcina. He felt as trapped as you did. He thought of letting his appearance go as an act of rebellion. Because of that, he’d go a full week without washing his clothes, letting the blood and oil stain the fabric until it might as well be dye. And he didn’t sleep for days sometimes, choosing instead to stay up all night in his workshop, only leaving when he starts to border on collapsing.

But between his anger issues and dysfunction, you saw something in him that you weren’t sure that even he saw. You saw it in the sparkle in his eyes when he figured out an issue that had been bothering him. You saw it in his sleepy groans when he woke up in the middle of the day after staying up all night before. You saw it in his smirks and smiles as he thought of something clever to say.

He was charming in his own way. Not in the way you thought of charming. He wasn’t elegant like Alcina, but he was warm. He was like a fire. Volatile. Deadly. Beautiful. And warm. And perhaps you were a bit of a pyromaniac, as you found yourself staring into a fire pit, longing to see the damage it could do if you let it free. You wanted to see what Heisenberg could do to you. You wanted to let him.

- - - - -

You were a bit suspicious that you weren’t hiding your feelings very well. Heisenberg was clever, and he was incredibly observant. He needed to be. His “family” didn’t exactly get along with him very well, and knowing what you knew about his “siblings”, they would’ve taken any opportunity possible to kill him and take his place as a favored lord. So he was constantly on his toes. And that meant that you were sure that he had noticed you were acting a bit off recently.

And you were sure that he had figured out exactly what was causing you to act that way, by the way that he teased. There was a glint in his eyes when you started to get flustered that was new to you. The way he smirked at you as he praised you, his hand resting casually on your arm for a few more seconds than before. He had even gone through with his collar joke, though he hadn’t given it to you to wear.

He’d wink at you as he held it in front of you, though. It was a silver chain that was about an inch thick, made into an easily adjusted necklace by the extra bit of chain that hung through the loop. The extra bit of chain that also worked as a built-in leash. He’d hold the collar in front of you, dangling it casually from one of his fingers when you started to get sarcastic with him, making comments about how his “pet” needed to be put in her place. And you’d try your best not to show how much you truly wanted that.

It had become another one of Heisenberg’s games. You could tell that he knew. And he knew that you knew that. So the game became how long you could go without breaking.

“So, kitten,” you jumped a bit as Heisenberg appeared behind you. You were making dinner, and had thought that Heisenberg was still working in his shop. He usually didn’t leave for dinner until you came to get him if he ate dinner with you at all, “You seem a bit spaced out. Care to tell me what you’ve got on your mind?”

You could say what you really wanted to. You could say that you wanted him to rail you until you couldn’t walk. But that would end the game. And Heisenberg only liked to end games if he could win them in a satisfying way.

“Nothing you need to worry about, sir,” You muttered, finishing the food you were cooking and pulling it off of the stove, “Just lost in thought.”

He hummed a bit, noticing how you refused to make eye contact. That wasn’t new, but you weren’t usually so awkward about it, “Come on, pet. I’d like to know if you’re planning your escape or something,” A bit of metal began to dangle in front of your face and you knew exactly what it was, “Honestly, (y/n), I really might have to put this collar on you if you’re going to be keeping secrets.”

“It sounds like you’re just looking for an excuse to put a collar on me, Karl,” You had gotten a bit bold, knowing that the line of how much you could get away with was quite a bit further back, “You can just admit that you’re into that.”

He chuckled a bit, resting the arm that he was holding the collar with on your shoulder and leaning into you just a little bit. You could feel his body heat radiating off of him. You always wondered how he was always so warm, living in this factory, surrounded by the cold metal walls, “I don’t know, pet, you haven’t been protesting quite as much. It seems like you may be coming around to the idea. Maybe you’re projecting a bit.”

He had set his chin on your shoulder by the end of his statement, his breath brushing against the shell of your ear. It had sent a shiver down your spine, and you could tell he felt it by the satisfied hum that passed his lips.

“You’re not arguing with me, kitten,” he purred as you failed to muster up a rebuttal, “Is that what you want? You want me to put the collar on you? Do I need to put my needy little pet in place?”

Fuck. You shifted a little, trying not to make the throbbing between your legs obviously. You were trying so hard to think of a comeback, but the teasing had been going on for so long that you were reaching your breaking point. You wanted him to fuck you so badly that it made you look stupid.

He grabbed your shoulder and turned you around to face him. It was so much harder to keep a poker face when you were looking into his eyes, when you could see that glint in them. The kind of glint that made you think he wanted to eat you alive. And you wanted him to.

“If you ask like a good girl, maybe I’ll give you what you want,” his voice came out so much smoother than usual. It intimidated you a bit, knowing that he was holding himself together so well. You knew that there was no way your voice was going to come out nearly as smooth.

“I’m not going to beg, Karl,” Your voice was shaking, but you tried to hold your cool. He always had fun when you talked back a little, and you were hoping that translated to this situation as well. And the wolf-like grin that grew on his face told you that you were right.

“We’ll see about that, kitten.”

- - - - -

You weren’t quite sure when the collar had appeared around your neck. Somewhere between the kitchen and Karl’s bedroom, though, it had snaked its way around your neck, even though his hands never seemed to leave your hips. You were a bit too occupied trying to keep up with his ravenous kisses.

His lips were latched onto your neck as he pushed you through the door to his room. You landed on his bed soon after with a slight bounce. You had been in his room before to clean, but the context was different now. The actual room itself was entirely irrelevant, as Karl climbed on top of you, throwing his hat and glasses to the side, not caring where they landed. All you could look at were his eyes, glowing bright yellow as he looked down at you.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten how much of a fucking brat you’re being,” he growled, looking down at you, “You’ve earned yourself quite the punishment.”

He sunk his teeth into your shoulder, biting just below the hickey that was already forming on your neck. He growled a bit as you squeaked in surprise, biting down a bit harder. You both felt when he broke the skin, and something told you that the mark he was leaving was entirely on purpose. He didn’t want anyone to doubt who you belonged to. His fingers dug into your skin, one hand holding your wrist above your head and the other digging into your side just above your hip. You had a feeling you would be covered in marks and bruises in the morning, and you were alright with that.

He pulled your clothes off quickly, throwing them to the side of the room. He wasn’t wasting any time, so you were pretty sure he had ripped through a seam or two on your dress. And he didn’t hesitate to rip your underwear completely in half.

He threw you around so much easier than you had expected. You knew that he was strong, you had just expected it to take at least a little bit of effort. You supposed that you shouldn’t have underestimated his inhuman strength, because in seconds he had flipped you, moving you so that you were on your hands and knees in front of him. You were entirely vulnerable in front of him, entirely bare as he remained fully clothed behind you.

It was weirdly hot, being at his mercy. He wasn’t a good person, and you knew that. In fact, there was still a feeling in your chest reminding you that he could kill you whenever he wanted. But that didn’t matter at that moment. The fear just made it better in some sick way. You knew you were insane, you had to be, but if insanity felt this good, you were going to accept it.

“Now, kitten, be good and stay quiet through your punishment, and maybe you’ll get a reward,” he stated, sliding his hands from the place they were resting on your waist to rest on your ass instead, “Do I make myself clear?”

You nodded in response, not trusting your voice as his hands slid further down, reaching the back of your thighs, one of his thumbs dangerously close to your pussy. His hands were callused, so as they slid across your skin, it created an interesting sensation. Your eyes almost rolled back into your head as his thumb brushed lightly against your clit, and you heard him chuckle a bit at your reaction. However, before you could enjoy yourself too much, he pulled his thumb away, sliding his hands back up to your ass.

There was a pause for a few moments, and you felt his eyes scanning your body. They always seemed to feel so much more intense than anyone else’s gaze ever could. Before you could get self-conscious, though, one of his hands raised from its place, only to come back down hard. The smacking sound echoed through the entire room, and you couldn’t hold back your yelp.

“Now, now, pet, I thought I said to keep quiet. I’ll let this slide once because you’re cute, but any more, and I’ll have to add some more punishment,” he cooed, grabbing the leash of the collar around your neck and pulling it towards him. He leaned forward until he could actually look at your face, seeing the tears prick at the corners of your eyes already, “I’d hate to break my toy right away, so try to behave.”

He didn’t give you a chance to respond before shoving your head down into the bed and resuming your punishment. You bit your lip, trying your best not to actually break the skin, as you did your best to stay quiet. You were a bit surprised by how much you enjoyed it. After the first few, the pain started to melt away, hidden behind a numb tingling that sent electricity shooting through your whole body. And it was pretty obvious to Heisenberg as well, when slick started to drip down the inside of your thighs.

You lost count before he stopped, but it couldn’t have been more than fifteen. He let out a satisfied hum as he looked at the handprints that were already starting to form, rubbing his hands gently over the forming bruises. You almost started purring as his hands continued to slide across your body.

“You’ve been such a good girl, kitten,” he praises as he moves your body, eventually making you stand in front of him as he sat on the edge of the bed, “Do you want your reward now?”

You nod, far too gone to even try to not look like a desperate fool. He looked proud of himself, seeing you so needy and bare in front of him. It was like a work of art. You had never seen so much admiration and need in his eyes. It wasn’t love. But it was need, and want, and possession.

“Ask nicely.”

You were too desperate to argue. You needed him more than you could remember needing anything, “Please, sir.”

You swore you saw the bulge in his pants twitch at the word “sir” and the glint in his eyes confirmed your suspicions. The grin he gave you showed his teeth, highlighting his fangs like a predatory animal about to lunge.

“Good girl,” He drew it out, shifting his body so that his legs were spread as far as they could be comfortably, before commanding, “Kneel.”

You do as you’re told almost by instinct. It was almost as though your body moved without your brain giving it permission. You had been entirely possessed by your lust. And it only got worse as his hands moved to unzip his pants, only removing enough of his clothing to free his cock.

“You want this, don’t you?” He looked almost amused as your eyes locked onto his cock. You were practically drooling over it. He almost laughed as you nodded, “Enjoy your treat, pet.”

He leaned back a bit, his weight being put on one of his hands, positioned a bit behind him on the bed. He looked so casual as you moved your hands to timidly take the place of his own, which had previously been holding his cock in place. He had to admit you looked adorable, needy and desperate as you kneeled between his legs. You were practically drooling for him.

You started out a bit slow, which surprised him a little. The little kitten licks and kisses felt good enough for him to close his eyes to savor it. However, from the smirk that had formed on your face by the time that he opened his eyes, he realized that you were planning on teasing. He wasn’t about to let that slide.

The hand that he had rested on the top of your head tightened its grip on your hair. “Watch it, kitten. Don’t be a tease,” He growled, pushing your head down a bit until about half of his cock was in your mouth.

With that, your willpower to hold back faded, and you took the rest of him into your mouth. The tip hit the back of your throat just a bit, making you hold back a gag. And as you looked up at him through your lashes and found him smirking down at you, you could tell that he saw it. You reveled in the soft groans that slipped past his lips when you finally got to work, swirling your tongue around as you bobbed your head. You moaned as he pulled your hair, the vibrations causing him to curse and pull your hair even more, “Fuck, kitten, you’re pretty good at that.”

You continued like that for a few more minutes, his grip on your hair getting tighter and tighter. The salty, bitter taste of precum started to hit the back of your throat, making it a bit harder not to gag. But the sounds that slipped from his mouth fueled you even more. You felt proud, hearing how much he was enjoying himself. You almost felt a bit disappointed as he pulled you off of him by your hair, causing you to whine loudly.

“Aw, don’t worry, kitten,” He says, patting your head, “We aren’t done yet. Why don’t you lay down and let me take care of you? You’ve been such a good girl.”

You do as you're told, without saying anything. As you had gotten into the mode you were in, playing the role of Heisenberg’s pet, talking seemed unnatural. It felt right to listen to his commands, obeying him like a dog. So you laid on your back, spread out and completely bare. And you couldn’t hold back the yelp as he grabbed your hips and yanked you roughly to the edge of the bed, so that as he kneeled in front of you, his face was entirely level with your pussy.

You saw that glint in his eyes again as his warm breath hit your already dripping core. You were getting reckless, trying to inch your way closer to speed up the process, only for his grip to tighten on your waist, holding you in place. He had an iron grip on you, and you were thankful for that as he licked a broad stripe up across your pussy before diving in, focusing almost all of his attention on your clit.

You were practically screaming his name as swirled his tongue around your clit with dexterity you didn’t think was even possible to possess. His hands were definitely leaving fingerprint-shaped bruises on your hips, but at least they were holding you in place as you involuntarily started to buck your hips and arch your back. You could feel the knot tightening in your abdomen, your hands ripping the sheets so hard you were a bit worried that you were going to tear them. He slid a finger into you, hitting at just the right angle to make you squeal. You honestly couldn’t think of a time that someone had made you come undone quite so fast, but you certainly weren’t complaining as the tangled nerves in the pit of your stomach finally seemed to snap.

Karl had to admire you as you came, your head thrown back and your legs shaking. Your skin was practically glimmering from the thin layer of sweat that was already clinging to it. He couldn’t help the pride that flooded into his chest as you started to come down from your high looking absolutely destroyed. He wasn’t done yet, but he was glad to see he had it in him to affect you this much.

He slowly stepped back, his eyes never leaving you as you laid on the bed, trying to catch your breath. He made sure to lock eyes with you as he slowly stripped the rest of his clothes off, layer by layer. By the time you recovered, he was finally taking off his necklaces, dropping them onto the pile he had made with the rest of his clothing. Despite his strength, he wasn’t exactly ripped. His arms were fairly muscular and defined, but he had a bit of squish around his stomach. His body was coated in a layer of body hair, the bits of silver shining in the dim light of the room you were in.

He was attractive in the rugged way that made it make sense that he smelled like metal and cigar smoke as he crawled on top of you, keeping pace as you inch yourself further up the bed. It was only once you had settled into place that he leaned down, kissing you feverishly. It escalated with every second, the hand that he wasn’t using to support his body weight roamed your body. It wasn’t long until his hand was moving your legs, angling your hips to make it easier for him to line himself up with your entrance.

He pulled away from the kiss just long enough to slowly push himself into you, watching your reaction as you slowly adjusted to his width and length. It didn’t take you long to adjust, though, and he could tell when you did. He started off slow. It surprised you how gentle he was being, but you didn’t mind at first. Before long, though, you were craving more. You wanted him to use your body.

“Please,” You whined, “Harder.”

He grinned a bit at your begging, recalling your declaration that you wouldn’t beg. He honestly couldn’t tell what part he enjoyed more, the win he had earned or seeing you beneath him, begging for him. Either way, he wasn’t going to deny you what you wanted.

So he leaned back, shifting his weight to his knees so that he could grab your ankles. He pinned your legs to your chest. As he slammed into you, much harder than before, you could tell just how much the angle had changed. Your eyes nearly rolled back into your head as he continued to thrust into you. Your moans got louder, and he started to groan a bit too, cursing under his breath as his thrusts got a bit uneven.

“Fuck, kitten,” he breathed into your ear as he leaned down, your legs on his shoulders. You could feel him twitching inside of you, getting close to his own ending, “You’re such a good girl.”

You couldn’t help yourself as your hands moved to scratch down his back, digging your nails in as deeply as you could. He responded by biting into the same place he had earlier, a bit of blood from before sticking to the corners of his mouth. With a few more rough thrusts, his teeth sinking a little bit deeper into your shoulder, he finished. And the two of you both started to relax.

After a few seconds of you both catching your breath, he pulled away, rolling to the side so that he could comfortably lay on his back next to you. It was an awkward few moments, both of you laying there in near silence, only for him to break it with, “We should probably get that bite cleaned up, huh? My bad, pet. I forget how fragile you are sometimes.”

And with that he got up, moving to gently take care of you. He cleaned up your bite mark, and helped you clean between your shaky legs with a damp washcloth. It was a whole new side of him as he helped clean you off, making sure that he hadn’t been hurt too badly. And after a few minutes, when you had been cleaned enough that you weren’t actively uncomfortable, he climbed back into bed and wordlessly pulled you into his chest.

(A/N: So... um. I'm sorry for this. This is my second smut ever and I needed to get a bit... self-indulgent so my brain would stfu.)

[mysticalrambling]

Adorable Addition(Part 2)

Chris Evans Fanfiction (Fan Fiction Masterlist)

(Part 1)

Warnings: None. Fluff all the way.

Summary: dad!Chris Evans x reader. Chris and you decide to adopt a dog when you see your son with Scott's dog. It is a cute family day and you all enjoy it to the fullest.

._._._._._.

“Can you please take out Dodger for his morning walk? I will handle the children.” Coming up behind your husband, you started to gently massage his shoulders.

“Are you sure you can handle both of them?” He moaned when you starting to untangle all the tight knots in his back.

“Yes, I am. Just let me distract Oliver first because he will throw a fit if you did not take him with.” Your elder son has been more than clingy towards Chris from the moment the baby has arrived. Getting jealous of even you when you kiss or cuddle with your husband. He is the only one allowed to be with his daddy and now he won’t even let Chris pet Dodger. It was adorable at first but now it is slowly becoming a nuisance.

“If you don’t mind, I will take Ollie with me to the park because we haven’t spent much time together.” Laughing at your husband’s puppy dog eyes, you are reminded that he was just as obsessed with his little prince as well. You wanted to remind him that from the moment he has come back from his set in Los Angeles, he has spent most of his time with Oliver.

“I don’t mind and I will get him ready.” The new found habit that your son had developed was to wear something related to Captain America, whether it is a shirt or a hat. Today, he decided upon Captain America sneakers and you did not even have the energy to lecture him about his stubbornness.

“Ready to go, bubba?” Holding an overjoyed dog with his leash, Chris extended his hands towards his firstborn.

"Can we get ice cream on the way?"

"Yes, you can." "No." You both spoke out at the same time and then turned to stare at each other. Sometimes, your husband acted like a three and a half year old child instead of your actual son. He knew that Ollie always gets stomach ache after eating sweets and he still fulfills all his wishes.

"Chris, you know what happens afterwards." It was like trying to reason with a wall when he passed you one of his cheeky smile.

The moment you were about to argue with him, you heard a cry from the baby monitor, signaling your little princess was up. Emma was truly a blessing in disguise because she was a very calm baby as compared to your son. It was such a smooth pregnancy that you both were sometimes worried that something might have been wrong with the baby. From the moment she was born, your world changed a lot but in a good way. She hardly cried and the best thing about her was that she was really attached to you.

"Looks like our princess is up. You better go to her because she won't come to me quietly." Jealousy flashed through Chris's blue eyes because he always thought that your daughter would be a daddy's girl from the very start. But boy, was he wrong. He found that out from day one when she did not stop crying until she was back in your arms.

"Don't be jealous, baby. Now go to the park and remember no ice cream."

"Of course, darling." He quickly strapped Oliver in to his stroller and pulled the shades down. Chris was still not okay with the paparazzi taking his family's pictures and he did everything to avoid that. The moment they stepped out of the house, you ran towards your baby's nursery room. She was fussing now and you knew she wanted to be fed so you got to the task.

"Daddy, why didn't we take baby sister with us?" questioning Chris through the shield, he played with his Captain America teddy bear.

"She is too young right now to play with you but Dodger and I are here so you will have a lot fun."

"Daddy, pick me up, please."

"No, bubba. You just play with your toys till we arrive to the park."

"Please, Daddy. Now! Now!" He started to repeat the words over and over again. Chris tried to quiet him down by giving him his pacifier and more toys but nothing seemed to work.

"Be quiet, Oliver." Chris ran out of patience and snapped at his son. However, regret and guilt washed over him soon afterwards when he saw Oliver's chin wobble and tears pooling in his eyes. The little boy knew that when his dad called him by name then he was really mad.

"Sorry," whispering slowly from the stroller, he started to play with his stuffed toy.

"I am sorry, baby." Quickly putting together the baby sling on his upper body, he slid Oliver in to it and used both his arms to hold on to the stroller and the leash. "Happy, little guy?"

"Yes!" Oliver laid his head on his father's chest and gently sucked on his teddy bear pacifier. Chris ignored the paparazzi that was trailing behind them because his son was his top most priority right now.

The moment they arrived at the park, Oliver tried to wiggle out of the carrier and Chris quickly undid the straps. Dodger and Oliver have been inseparable from the moment they met each other. The kid got jealous when his Dodgie started to pay attention to the new born baby. He did not want to share Chris's or Dodger's attention with anyone and that is the reason why he took so long to get accustomed to his baby sister.

"Enjoy, baby." Chris made sure that Oliver did not leave his sight and did not mingle with any strangers. He made it clear to his fans that he wanted some privacy with his family. This was a private moment and his fans respected that. Chris was truly glad to have a following that were not toxic. "Let's go get some ice cream now."

He called out after he saw that his son was all sweaty and worked up after all the chasing around and playing on the swings. Your son immediately dropped the frisbee and skipped over to you with Dodger hot on his tail. Getting a chocolate ice cream, he wanted to be picked by his father again. Chris knew that his shirt would get dirty but his family was worth it.

“Honey, we are home.” Tiny pitter patter outside your room alerted you of your son running towards your room. Chris followed suit with a stained shirt. You just shook your head at him and mentally checked if there was still some Tylenol in your medicine cabinet.

As soon as he came out of the closet with a new shirt on, he plopped on the side of your now awake daughter. She was dressed in a baby pink polka dot dress with a matching headband and a pink pacifier. Making grabby hands towards Chris, she gave him a smile that showcased her two new front teeth. He was over the moon and immediately cuddled with his babygirl.

“I am going downstairs to make some dinner. Ollie, you want to help?” This was your bonding time with your baby boy where he tells you about his day and all of his feelings regarding the events. He told you all about his day today and how he made Chris mad. You gently explained to him that stubbornness was not a good trait and parents sometimes get angry. But that doesn’t mean that you guys hated him. “Dinner is ready, Chris. Come downstairs.”

“I want to sit with daddy too.” Both the kids were perched on his lap as you fed them both dinner. Chris stole a few bites in between and you laughed when Emma smudged her dirty hands on Oliver’s cheeks. Dodger sauntered in the dining room and went straight towards his eating bowl. This was your family and you cherished every moment you spent with them. The adorable additions to the family have been a blessing and you plan on cherishing them forever.

Hope you guys enjoyed it!!

._._._._._._.

A/N: This is just some family dribble that I wrote related to Chris Evans. I just love the idea of dad Chris. Send me some ideas related to Chris as a family man and I will be happy to write about it.

P.S. Thank you for motivating me to write a part 2. Tell me if you want another one.

Like, comment and reblog.

Taglist: @maximeevansblog, @justile

._._._._._._.

[zhanyes]

Tianshan dating headcannons because i also love these two dumbasses too

Also dedicated to @el-mundo-real who requested tianshan headcannons 🖤

. . .

- Literally no one knows whether they’re dating or not. Not even themselves because they don’t talk about it

- Jian yi thinks they’re dating already and Zhengxi says they’re still getting there (somehow they’re both right) and they make a bet

- He tian likes staying over at Mo’s and he’s gotten pretty close to mama Mo

- Mama Mo teaches him how to knit !! He tried to knit a scarf for Mo but it came out a little messy and tangled. Mo still wears it anyway saying it’s a waste of yarn if not used (He’s actually really touched)

- He eats dinner there about 5 times a week and sleeps over thrice a week. He’s a permanent fixture in the house now, he has his own plate and mug, utensils, toothbrush, a spare key, and more than half of his closet migrated to Mo’s closet

- Sometimes Mo “accidentally” wears He tian’s sweaters and He tian dies a little bit every time

- Sometimes He tian deliberately wears Mo’s clothes and it’s always tighter and a bit shorter on his body so when he moves his arms the shirt rides up. Mo guanshan shouts at him to change and to stop contaminating his clothes but his ears are red anyway

- They bicker A LOT. Over the smallest things because He tian loves riling him up and Mo gets riled up too easily

He tian, for the 7th time in 5 minutes: “What does this thing do?”

Mo guanshan, losing his mind: “THAT’S A FUCKING MICROWAVE WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK IT DO?!”

- There are times when homicide is the best option

Mo Guanshan: “I acknowledge that I can be mean sometimes-”

He tian, in the bathtub: “Sometimes?”

Mo Guanshan: “Shut the fuck up. So I brought you a bath bomb as a peace offering.”

He tian: “That’s a fucking toaster.”

Mo guanshan: “Exactly. A bath bomb.”

- Contrary to what his actions say, Mo guanshan is actually relieved that He tian spends most of his time in their apartment. He tian never told him but he can see how lonely the other teenager is

- Mo guanshan tries to teach He tian chores because He tian knows nothing about cleaning or doing everyday things

Mo guanshan: “How the fuck do you not know how to wash dishes where the hell do you eat?!”

He tian, drinking milk straight out the carton: “Obviously on plates, Momo. I just throw them away after.”

Mo guanshan, sputtering: “WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU THROW OUT PLATES?!”

- The first and only recipe that He tian managed to cook successfully is instant noodles with boiled egg that’s not quite cooked enough. Sometimes he brings Mo noodles as breakfast in bed and he looks so proud of it Mo has a hard time saying that the noodles are overcooked and that noodles aren’t exactly breakfast food (he eats it anyway)

- Mo sometimes, only sometimes, brings He tian grocery shopping because he needs to learn how to buy food for himself. Somehow He tian always ends up in the miscellaneous section where he has a pack of ballpens he’ll never use, 2 journals he’ll also never use, a couple of scented candles, various dog clothes and leashes for the dog he doesn’t have, a couple’s mug, and a vase in his cart

- He tian stopped trying to barge into Mo guanshan’s bed and sleeps on the futon on the floor beside it. It’s not the most comfortable and he had a hard time sleeping on it at first but he likes being in Mo’s company even while sleeping

- Sometimes Mo would move in his sleep and leave his arm dangling on the side of the bed, He tian grabs it of course and Mo wakes up to sweaty palms. He still leaves it for a few moments before harshly slapping away He tian’s hand

- Mo’s hands aren’t smooth at all because of working all the time and practicing the guitar but He tian loves them all the same. He likes to feel the contrast in textures with his slightly smoother hands

- He tian has a thousand pictures of Mo guanshan sleeping in various angles and poses. He has his favorites framed and keeps it on his bedside table in his apartment so when he’s sleeping there he still feels like they’re sleeping together

- Mo guanshan has a few of He tian sleeping but he swears up and down that he'll never do anything as disgusting as that. He makes one of them his wallpaper.

- Sometimes when they don’t feel like sleeping yet they stay up talking and arguing about random things

Mo guanshan: “Why would aliens be in space? The ocean is definitely the way to go.”

He tian: “But why would they be in the ocean? They’ll drown.”

Mo guanshan: “They’re aliens maybe they have gills or some shit.”

He tian: “I’m telling you they’re not in the ocean, Mo.”

Mo guanshan: “And I’m telling you you’re wrong, bastard.”

- On rare days they would stay up talking about their pasts and about life in general, with the lights closed and the only source of light is the moonlights from the window

- One of these nights, Mo told He tian about what happened to his dad and their restaurant, why they’re in so much debt over it and He tian holds Mo’s hand tightly throughout

- He knew better than to say that he could pay for that debt so Mo doesn’t need to worry anymore (He still says it anyway and Mo blew a fuse) but he swore to help Mo through other means

- The next day he orders a whole carton of mangoes, apples and peaches in his apartment and learns how to peel properly through youtube and Zhengxi

- He goes to Mo’s part time job in the grocery and helps him peel fruits, Mo guanshan doesn’t mention anything when he notices the bandaids on the other’s hands but he does cook him beef stew for dinner

- As expected He tian’s presence brings more customers and the manager asks if he wants to work there permanently but he said he’s only working for Mo so the manager can give Mo a raise instead

- Once, Mo got sick so he missed his part time job for the day (He was supposed to give away flyers on the streets) and got extra pissy because He tian didn’t visit him and wouldn’t answer his phone 

- Apparently He tian took over his job for the day and he only finds out when he goes to the manager and the manager asks when his ‘boyfriend’ can come back to work again because the customers love him

- He tian almost never talks about himself but once he talked about the puppy who disappeared after he saves it and then found out that it’s still alive after all these years

- Mo keeps quiet about it the whole time he was talking and the next few days he takes time to knit a small dog plushie and leaves it on He tian’s futon

- He tian didn’t cry, he didn’t (he did), but he hugged Mo and whispered a sincere thank you. For once, Mo lets it happen

- Mo quickly regrets his decision when He tian names the plushie “Chicken sandwich”

- He tian brings Mo in a lot of not-dates (according to Mo) like arcades, ocean parks, festivals, and fairs because he didn’t get to go as a kid and he wants to experience it for the first time with Mo

- They get crazy competitive in every game. Every. Single. One. If it’s a co-op shooting game they would compete on who kills the most enemies, if it’s a harmless crane game it becomes a competition of who can get the most plushies

- They both each have a photobooth strip. Mo keeps his as a bookmarker in a journal, and He tian has his in the back of his phone.

- They go on a double not-date with Jian yi and Zhengxi and it ends up in almost getting chased by a police car at 2 am in pokemon onesies and holding a bag of chips 

- Sometimes Mo would visit his dad in prison and just rant to him about He tian

Mo guanshan: “The nerve of that guy to do something like that in front of a teacher urgh.”

Papa Mo: “Your boyfriend sounds like a fun guy, son. I want to meet him soon.”

Mo guanshan: “BO-BOYFRIEND?!”

Papa Mo: “Yes???”

Mo guanshan: “No??? That bastard isn’t my boyfriend??”

Papa Mo: “Are you sure about that?”

Mo guanshan: “...Yes?”

- Enter gay panique because he doesn’t actually know whether He tian is his boyfriend or not

- They don’t call each other boyfriends and they never talked about it so no??? But they’re also not just friends so maybe??? Do they go on dates?? Can grocery trips be considered dates??

- He rings up Jian yi and the blonde just laughed for 5 minutes straight without stopping and he wonders how he’s still breathing

Mo Guanshan, after hearing Jian yi laughing for 5 minutes: “Are you fucking done?”

Jian yi, trying to catch his breath: “Man this is some top-tier entertainment.”

Mo guanshan: “WELL?!”

Jian yi: “Look bro literally no one knows whether you’re dating, fucking, planning each other’s murder OR planning a murder together.”

Mo guanshan: “What if it’s all of the above?”

Jian yi: “Then congratulations…? Please don’t murder me?”

Mo guanshan: “Urgh you’re fucking useless I should have called Zhengxi.”

Jian yi: “Wait don’t, I don’t wanna lose the bet. How about this, there’s a festival upcoming for couples and families, if He tian asks you then you’re probably, maybe, dating?”

Mo guanshan: “That’s stupid. AND WHAT BET?!”

Jian yi: “Ah woops gotta water my dog.”

- Mo tells himself that it’s stupid and there’s no way he’s falling for that...but he feels disappointed anyway when He tian doesn’t ask him the following days

- He tian asks on the last day before the festival, but he asks mama Mo first and Mo guanshan second cuz he wants to celebrate with both of them. He confessed that he’s never actually went to a festival with a family before so he was trying to build up courage to ask

- Mo guanshan is an absolute goner after that

- On the day of the festival, they find Zhanyi there on a date but decide to leave them alone. While they were leaving Jian yi kept throwing Mo guanshan so much winks that Zhengxi thought he got something in his eye

- The festival was fun but Mo couldn’t take his eyes off how happy and content He tian looks

- Queue cliche fireworks scene but it’s He tian being amazed by the fireworks and Mo looking mesmerized at him thinking, “Ah, I want him to look at me like that.”

- The next day, he drags He tian to visit his dad in jail

Papa mo: “Oh this is a surprise, you’ve never brought someone before?”

He tian, trying to introduce himself: “Hello, sir. I’m He tian, Mo guanshan’s fri-”

Mo guanshan, cuts him off: “Boyfriend. He’s my boyfriend, dad.”

He tian:

[hargrove-mayfields]

the tags on your football Billy story about autistic kids not being allowed to play sports, gave me the idea of Steve with autism not being allowed on the basketball team and how Billy and maybe Tommy if you want since you write kegboys sometimes would react

It doesn’t take Billy long to notice him, the benchwarmer boy who sits on the sidelines, never getting his shot in a single game, just riding the bench with a smile on his face.

At first he sort of pegs it to mean the kid is just really not good, maybe riding the tails of his daddy’s sportsmanship legacy, but then Billy realizes something, that this kid doesn’t even get to play at practice.

He shows up and he sits there like being excluded is the happiest he’s ever been, and the only time he ever has the ball in his hands at all is if it’s to toss it to one of the boys on the court when it rolls to him.

Despite this though, he has his very own jersey. Number zero. Harrington.

Billy asks Tommy after practice once who this mysterious jersey kid is, and he smiles sort of tight, like maybe Billy shouldn’t have asked him that, and tells him, “I’ll introduce you.”

Tommy walks over to the kid and tells him something that makes him light up, jump to his feet and follow Tommy back over, “Billy, this is my best friend, Steve Harrington.”

Steve just sort of waves, so Billy jumps straight into it. This kid intrigues him and he wants to know more, “There a reason you don’t play, Harrington?”

In response he shrugs his shoulders, hands stuffed in the pockets of his way too big basketball shorts, “I’m not allowed.”

“Why not? You fail some test or something?” Billy tries to ask lightly, not noticing the way Tommy’s face scrunches up before Steve drops a bombshell on him instead, “They don’t let special ed kids on the basketball team.”

And if that’s not bad enough, Tommy then adds, though significantly more bitter than even Steve is, “Or on any team for that matter, whether it’s sports or clubs or debate, you name it. School board denies every last application.”

“Oh.” Billy frowns, totally dumbfounded, his school in California never had any issues with that, “Oh that- that’s bullshit.”

“I know.” They say at the same time, prompting Billy to ask, “They don’t even have like, a separate team?”

“Not enough kids would do it.” Tommy says, and he gets a sharp look from Steve, who corrects him quickly, “Not enough kids could get permission to do it.”

“But that’s such bullshit.” Billy repeats, not very helpfully.

“Nothing we can do about it. We’ve tried everything. Not even momma Harrington could convince the school board, and let me tell you, that woman is scary.”

Steve elbows Tommy for that one, and Tommy laughs softly, throws an arm around his shoulder, but Billy is thinking, biting the corner of his nail in concentration, “Why don’t we start our own team?”

“I don’t know.” Steve’s face scrunches up, and he turns to Tommy, like he doesn’t trust what Billy says, so Billy continues, “No, I’m serious. School says you can’t play for them, so fuck ‘em. There’s courts in the park, I have a ball, and I’m out there half the time watching my little sister anyways. Let’s start our own team.”

Tommy answers for him, “Practice takes up too much time. We’re not gonna be much of a team unless we’re going to be playing at night or in the winter.”

“Then we quit the tigers.” Billy shrugs, like it’s obvious.

Instantly Tommy narrows his eyes, “Very funny, man.”

On the other hand though, Steve looks at him with awe written all over his face, eyes wide and spelling, “You’d really quit for me?”

And Billy, he plays it off like that look doesn’t make his heart melt, claiming, “For you and for Max who’s been talking my ear off about how much she wants to play soccer and whose heart is going to break when she finds out she can’t.”

Convinced, Tommy looks over at Steve, “If you’re in Stevie, I’m in too.”

Steve seems like he’s considering his options, drumming his fingers on the outside of his thigh, occasionally humming softly in thought, and it’s making Billy impatient.

“So?” He asks, to which Steve nods a confirmation to his offer, his hair bouncing with his enthusiasm.

Tommy cracks a crooked smile, holds out a hand for Billy to shake, seal the deal, “You’ve got yourself a team, Hargrove.”

They decide not to give their little team a name, the idea of being called something feels too exclusive, which was the reason they’d all quit the school's team in the first place. Billy had gotten in big trouble when his dad found out he quit for wasting their time and money on basketball, but that was all bullshit anyways, games were only usually a half hour long and were free to get into for the players family, and the school paid for the uniforms.

But that was what he said and what he’d been going to punish Billy for until they found out about the reasoning behind quitting, after which Susan was flattered he cared so much about his little sister, and he got his permission to freely go down to the park and play with the “special” kid.

Neil of course didn’t care about him doing it for Max, he was just concerned with Billy’s public image. Playing ball with the richest family in town's dopey son did nothing but good things for the way their neighbors saw him, so he’d allow it.

A few weeks into their games though, which are mostly just playing HORSE or teaching Steve how to do trickier shots since no coach ever would, Billy has to bring Max along because nobody was going to be home and she wasn’t allowed to be by herself. It’s a dreary day so there aren’t many people around at all, so he decides he’s going to loosen her leash, and walks her over to the playground (that they can see clearly from the courts, he’s not that irresponsible.)

He teasingly offers to push Max on the swings or lift her up to the monkey bars, making her roll her eyes and proudly declare that she’s not a baby anymore, so he chuckles and leaves her be, walking back to the basketball hoops.

Tommy and Steve are just sitting on the old wooden bench just off to the side of the court, waiting for Billy to get back because he’s their little impromptu coach and they can’t start without him, but he notices that they’re sitting awful close together, and between them, Tommy’s hand sits slightly on top of Steve’s, pinky fingers linked together.

Now he knows these two are affectionate, he couldn’t even count how many times Tommy picked Steve up after he made a good shot or ruffled his hair and smiled at him when he messed up, but that was all just friendly affection.

This was different though, he could tell it was from the way Tommy’s eyes snap up and he pulls his hand away, the both of them looking away from each other guiltily.

He feels a little something like jealousy in his chest, or maybe it was just anxiety at the fact that they’d been so obviously holding hands in the public park, but either way, he just kind of freezes up, looking between their two terrified faces until Tommy’s turns angry, standing from the bench so fast the old rusty things creaks loudly and Steve has to cover his ears.

He grabs the front of the baggy jersey Billy wears from his old school's team, the bears, and gets right up in his face, sneering, “You gonna say something, Hargrove?”

And Billy’s not afraid of Tommy, he might be mean, but he’s on his toes to threaten him, and he’s pretty sure they both know Billy would win the fight anyways. He’s not going to fight him though, and he makes that clear, putting his hands up as a clear sign of not going to sock Tommy for yelling at him, “Secrets safe with me, dudes. You go down, I’m going down with you.”

Tommy doesn’t get it though, because he growls, “Right. ‘Cause all that matters is what will happen to your reputation after giving up your precious sport just to hang with a couple of fags, right?”

“Tom.” Steve snaps, but he gets ignored, Billy arguing over him, “Actually, no. You know all that talk about queer kids flocking together without even knowing? That doesn’t come from nothing. I out you, it’s putting a target on my back, and from there it won’t be not long before a little birdie tells the wrong person the right rumor and we’re all dead.”

“Oh.” Tommy says softly, his face falling.

Billy nods sarcastically in response, “Yeah, oh. So let go of my damn shirt before I find a reason to punch you in the face.”

“Can we just play basketball?” Comes a timid request from behind them, so Tommy lets go, wipes his hands on his shorts, and answers him, “‘Course we can, Stevie.”

It doesn’t take long for them to get bored though, none of them are really in the mood to play after that. They play a small game that’s pretty much just Tommy blocking Billy the whole time, but after he shoots the ball they all just let it roll, none of them caring enough to keep the play going. So instead, Tommy offers up his place to hang out there.

It sounds at least better than this, so Billy drops Max off back at home, making her promise not to do anything stupid to get them in trouble until he gets back later that night, and heads straight to Tommy’s like they planned.

The whole drive he’s worrying that they’re gonna pissed at him and beating himself up for not just pretending like he didn’t notice, to the point where he almost just drives right past, but Steve waves at his car from the front window, and he can’t do all this petty angry shit to him.

Tommy’s house is empty for the night, so that means two things, that they’re free to drink as much as they want, (smoking’s a no go though, the smell is too strong and makes Steve upset), and that Steve sits right on Tommy’s lap like it’s nothing.

Which, it is nothing. Billy just told them he was gay too, and now they don’t have to hide from their best friend, so it’s common sense that they wouldn’t.

But Billy, well, he wouldn’t say he’s jealous watching the two of them together, it just makes his chest burn every time they touch or laugh at some joke and whisper amongst themselves like he isn’t even there, or when Steve kisses Tommy’s cheek.

Yeah no, there’s no pretending, Billy is totally jealous. He’s had a thing for Tommy since like, day one of practice when he bounced a basketball back in his own face trying to show off, and Steve for just as long, yearning to know more about the pretty faced mystery kid who turned out to be a total sweetheart and won him over. It’s tearing him to shreds watching them just being happy together without being a part of that.

He wonders if these small town boys have ever even heard of having more than one partner other than like, mormons, and if they haven’t, how is he supposed to bring it up without sounding like a total weirdo. Maybe he could claim that he was just trying not to be left out since they were probably the only queer kids in Hawkins. Or maybe not and Tommy would try to kick his ass again for even trying.

He doesn’t have to do much wondering though, because as pointedly as he’s trying to ignore them, Steve keeps getting closer to Billy on the couch until he’s sitting in his lap, and Billy has to ask, blue eyes going a little wide, cheeks flushing red in a way that had nothing to do with the sunburn he’d gotten at the park earlier, “What’re you doing Steve?”

“You included me. Now I’m including you.” Steve hums and leans his head on Billy’s shoulder, holding eye contact with Tommy.

To say that Billy is flustered and doesn’t know what to do with himself is more than an understatement. He'd like to say he’s not the most inexperienced one here, but it’s not looking good, because he’s flushed as red as a tomato, and the only thing he can think to say is just, “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” Tommy says and smiles that big goofy smile of his, a playful imitation of their little argument from before, “And I’d much rather you kiss me than punch me.”

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

An imagine for adeuce please! They hang out someplace in their hometown during vacation but awkwardly run into crewel. I think treys family bakery would be a nice location but the setting is your choice in case you want to limit the dialogue and number of characters

Ps. I personally feel like the game needs more interactions between the students and teachers. Hopefully we can get more in the new event

Teacher-student interactions are so much fun! We definitely got more from Vargas Camp (which I’m really thankful for), and I hope we keep getting more!

So far, my favorite teacher-student dynamic has been Vargas and Azul. I’d feel bad for octoboi if I wasn’t laughing so hard at his flying fails--

I really liked this prompt, so I wrote more than my usual ~1000 word imagine; please enjoy!

***Mild spoilers for chapter 4!***

Imagine this...

The Rose Kingdom was aptly named for the flowers that bloomed in nearly every corner of its land. In the summer time, they blossomed magnificently, perfuming the warm air with their heady aroma—but in the winter, those delicate rosebuds were banished by a spell of frost. Without fail, a great cold would wash over the region every year, casting their famous red flowers in a thick layer of white.

It was a pattern that the kingdom’s residents had long since grown accustomed to. This was, after all, their beloved home—amid the roses, frozen as they were.

“Oi, Deuce! Hurry it up, will you?!” Ace called, tossing an annoyed glance over his shoulder.

His friend—wearing so many layers that he resembled a moving blueberry more than a human—lagged several paces behind.

Deuce attempted to return the sass, but his words caught in the scarf bound tightly around his mouth, coming out muffled instead. The puffball on his winter hat furiously bobbed up and down, as though communicating his frustration for him.

“If we don’t pick up the pace, they’re gonna sell out of hot chocolate and fresh pastries!” Ace rushed back, grabbed Deuce by the arm, and tugged. “C’mon!! I thought you were in Track and Field Club or something—so let’s get moving!”

Deuce loosened his scarf with his free hand and, glaring at Ace, declared, “No way am I running with the roads this icy. That’s a recipe for disaster.”

“Hah? You serious? I already got wasted enough time waiting for you to dress in your 101 layers of coats,” Ace grumped, gesturing to Deuce’s ridiculous outfit. “It can’t hurt to be a little quicker about it.”

“Mom wanted me to stay warm,” Deuce countered stiffly. “I’m gonna respect that, no matter what.”

Ace rolled his eyes and waves dismissively. “Yeah, yeah, whatever—enough talk, we really gotta get going...!! I’ll be damned if I freeze out here.”

“The Clover Bakery isn’t that far from here, so we don’t need to rush.” Deuce indicated a warm building at the end of the block, which gave off delicious fumes—spun sugar, baked bread, and spices. “Slow and steady wins the race.”

Ace groaned loudly. At this rate, it would take all day for them to waddle on over. He was about to bury his head in his hands when an idea dawned on him.

A mean, but clever, idea.

“Betcha I could make it there faster than you,” Ace chirped, his voice casual.

“It’s not a competition,” Deuce reminded him sternly.

“No one said it was, dummy! I’m just saying I could definitely beat you at your own game.”

“Tough words for someone shaking like a leaf in the cold.”

“Oh yeah?” Ace’s grin was wicked. “Prove me wrong, then.”

“I don’’t have to prove anything. It’d be dangerous to run in this weather, anyway.”

“I bet it’s way more snowy in Pyroxene—and Jack’s probably totally fine with running through it!”

“That’s Jack, and this is me. I said I wasn’t going to rush things, and I meant it.”

“Yeah? Too bad~” The redhead gave an exaggerated sigh and a shrug. “Backing out, huh...? Oh well. Guess if you snooze, you lose...!!”

“Hey, I never said...” Deuce’s voice trailed off, for Ace had shoved by him, darting off in the direction of the bakery. “H-Hey...!! Ace...!! ACE!! GET BACK HERE!!”

He tore after his friend, shouting at him all the while—and Ace, with his (cheating) head start, only laughed in return. Deuce soon caught up (no thanks to his club conditioning), and they were neck-and-neck for first place.

Windchill, knives upon their faces. The biting cold seeped into their lungs, making it hurt to breathe as they hurtled toward their destination. Yet they sailed on, determined to outdo the other.

Both boys launched themselves at the bakery entrance, grasping the handle at the same time.

“EXCUSE US!!” Ace and Deuce yelled in unison, yanking open the door (struggling to cram through the doorway at the same time) and stumbling in.

They were greeted by a blast of warmth and the smells of sweet cakes and toasted breads. The employee manning the counter glanced up, startled at the duo’s sudden appearance. When he saw who it was that had barged in, he sighed and calmly readjusted his glasses.

He looked a little different than usual, wearing a white shirt with green plaid that showed off his broad shoulders. The sleeves were rolled up to reveal thick forearms forged from years of lifting flour sacks and kneading dough. A brown apron was slung over his attire, four-leafed clovers sewn on the pockets.

“If it isn’t Ace and Deuce. How are the two troublemakers of Heartslabyul doing?” Trey asked, his smile lopsided as his underclassmen approached.

“A-Are we really troublemakers in your eyes, Clover-senpai?!”

“I’m just kidding,” he reassured Deuce. “Well, you are troublemakers, but more for Riddle than for me.”

“Geez... thanks for the vote of confidence...” Ace grumbled, casting the third year a cheeky look. “Some senpai you are, huh?”

“Now, now... I’m allowed to have some fun, aren’t I? We’re all ‘off-duty’, so to speak.” Trey said light heartedly. “Anyway, what brings you guys to the Clover Bakery? I’m assuming you’re not dropping by just to say hello.”

“Hehe. Obviously we’re hungry, so we came by for some grub!” Ace held up his index finger. “One large hot chocolate, and a plate of assorted butter cookies for me!”

“I’m okay with a small spiced apple cider,” Deuce chimed in, “please and thank you.”

“Gotcha. I’ll get you your drinks in a bit,” Trey nodded, “but as for the butter cookies, I’m afraid I won’t be able to sell those to you.”

“Huh?” Ace’s face collapsed. “Why not?”

“We’ve only got a few dozen left, and they’re reserved for a client that preordered them. Sorry.” Trey pointed to a neatly wrapped box already set upon the counter, done up in a bright green bow.

Through the plastic window in the box, Ace could see that the cookies had been converted into little sandwiches. Each pair housed a generous dollop of cream, caramelized raisins threaded throughout it.

“What? Who needs that many butter cookies? And why are there gross raisins in them--“

The door to the bakery flung open, summoning a gale of cold once more. A bell suspended above jingled, ringing in a new customer.

“Ah, speak of deville the devil,” Trey said—while his underclassmen balked in terror.

There, in the doorway, was a tall man in black faux leather gloves and a voluminous fur coat—striped, black and white. Beneath that, he boasted a crimson turtle neck and a blazer, half solid white, the other half a black , checkerboard pattern. This, paired with his slicked back hair, steely eyes, and regal face, made him appear as though he had just strutted off the runway, were it not for the leashes he gripped.

Two Dalmatians—one in a blue coat, the other in a red one—stood alert by his feet. They caught Ace and Deuce’s eyes and barked in greeting, but the two boys were far too fixated on the Dalmatians’ owner to gush over dogs.

“Crewel...”

“... Sensei?”

Ace and Deuce glanced to one another, then back at their Alchemy teacher.

“C-CREWEL-SENSEI?!”

“Wh-What’re you doing here?!” Ace demanded, pointing an accusatory finger. “School’s out for winter break...!! You... You didn’t hunt us down to make us do our homework, did you?!”

Crewel snorted. “Spare me your theatrics, Trappola. Your instructors are granted a vacation for the duration of winter break as well. Were you not aware?”

“I-I knew that! I just didn’t know you lived in the Rose Kingdom, too!”

“I thought teachers lived at school...”

“... Seriously, Deuce?!”

“The more you know.” Crewel narrowed his eyes at Ace. “But speaking of homework, I trust you pups are keeping on top of your assignments? Being on break is no excuse to slack on your studies.”

“D-Duh! Of course I haven’t been slacking!” A lie, Ace grimaced, thinking to the piles of homework he had abandoned in his bedroom in favor of hanging out with friends. Whatever, he could just pester his brother for help later. “Right, Deuce? Back me up here!”

“I’ve been diligently studying and working on my homework bit by bit every day, Crewel-sensei!”

“... But have you done it accurately?” Crewel asked, raising an eyebrow. “Simply writing down an answer does not guarantee full marks, Spade.”

“... Errrrrr, okay, maybe I need to work on it a little more.”

“You’ve got your notes and a reliable Science Club member to count on for assistance,” Crewel quipped, gesturing to Trey with a gloved hand. “There is no excuse for why you should not do well. That goes for you as well, Trappola.”

“Y-Yessir!”

“Crewel-sensei, I think that’s enough interrogation,” Trey called, waving for him to come to the counter. Outwardly, he wore a smile, but inwardly, he sighed. For the love of the Great Seven, don’t offer my help for me. “Here, I have your order prepared--oh, but be sure to keep your dogs at the doorway. No pets allowed beyond a certain threshold for health and safety reasons.”

“I am aware, yes.” Crewel’s eyes passed over to the two scared stiff underclassmen. “... Trappola, Spade--come here. Do your professor a favor and tend to my Dalmatians for me.”

“What? You want us to watch your dogs?”

“I’ll do my best, Sensei!!”

“Don’t just blindly agree to it, Deuce!”

“It will only be for a moment,” Crewel insisted, shoving his leashes into Ace and Deuce’s hands. The boys fumbled, but held firm--the Dalmatians eagerly staring up at them.

“... Oi, don’t give me those looks,” Ace grumbled. “You’re... You’re too cute looking and innocent to be Crewel-sensei’s pets.”

The dog in the red coat gave a happy bark, as if pleased with the compliment. Its partner, in the blue coat, panted with delight as Deuce gave it a firm head pat.

Crewel received the box of raisin butter cookies--but allowed his eyes to quickly a scan the glass display case as he strode up. “Do you have dog treats in stock as well?”

“We do.”

“Then add two to my total, please--peanut butter flavor.”

“Alright, you’ve got it.” Trey ducked, retrieved a pair of tongs, and fished out two bone-shaped biscuits. He dropped them into a paper bag and handed them over to his teacher. “That’ll be--”

He was cut off by several bills being fanned out on the counter.

“I’ve ordered enough from your bakery to know the general prices,” Crewel smirked, tucking his wallet away into his massive fur coat. “If there is a discrepancy, you may keep the change.”

“Ah, thanks for that. Hope you and the dogs enjoy--” Trey paused, cut off this time by the sound of several small footsteps from the back room of the bakery. He groaned, already knowing what was coming. “Oh no...”

“Trey-nii!!” A chorus of high-pitched voices piped up, startling Ace and Deuce. “We heard bark-barks!! Did Mr. Fluffy Coat bring back his doggies?”

Three heads of green hair poked above the counter--just barely. One girl and two boys, probably elementary school age, all of them sharing Trey’s mustard yellow eyes.

“Guys, not now. Big bro’s busy with the customers,” Trey warned. He passed an apologetic look to his underclassmen and teacher. “Sorry, my siblings are excitable sometimes.”

“I wanna pet the doggies!”

“I wanna feed’m snackies!”

“I wanna dress them up!”

To the boys’ surprise, Crewel merely chuckled. “No worries. Fellow canine lovers are always welcome.”

“Mr. Fluffy Coat!! Can we feed your doggies?”

“Pretty please with candied violets on top!”

“Please, please, please!!”

Crewel barked with laughter. “Perhaps I can allow it, little ones--permitted that your brother grants his permission.”

All three Clover siblings looked expectantly at their eldest sibling.

Trey heaved a sigh. “... I guess I’ve got no choice. Go ahead.”

Excited squeals filled the interior of the bakery. The Clover siblings nearly tripped over themselves racing over to Crewel’s dogs (they nearly trampled Ace and Deuce’s feet, too).

“Hey, watch it! We’re the ones babysitting these dogs, not you!” Ace cried as the kids descended on the Dalmatians. I’ve only had these dogs for five minutes but if anything happened to them, I’d kill everyone here and then--

“We can share, Ace!”

“Spade is correct. There is plenty of the pups to go around,” Crewel interjected. He produced two dog treats and broke them into smaller pieces, offering them to Ace, Deuce, and the Clover siblings. “Go on, then. One for each of you to feed them.”

The Clovers cheered and eagerly claimed their pieces, holding them out and allowing each Dalmatian to sniff and lick the treats straight out of their palms. As soon as the food was slurped up, the Clovers proceeded to vigorously pet the pups. But the first years hesitated.

“You’re... being awfully nice,” Ace noted, eying him suspiciously. “Are you gonna spring a pop quiz on us as soon as I take the treat?”

“Keep biting the hand that feeds you, and I just might consider it,” Crewel warned with a dark smirk.

“W-We’ll take the treats!” Deuce snatched up two pieces, shoving one into Ace’s hands. “Come on, let’s not worry too much. We’re on winter break, after all. Let’s just relax while we still can.”

“You’re right, you’re right! Let’s not sweat it!”

They exchanged a brief laugh before kneeling and offering up their own dog treat pieces to the Dalmatians. Just as the dogs’ sloppy, wet tongues connected with the boys’ hands, their cell phones went off.

“... Huh? Did you just get a text, Deuce?”

“I think I did. I heard your phone ping too, though. Did you get a text too?”

“I can check. One sec...” With his free hand, Ace fished his phone out of his coat pocket and consulted it. He immediately paled. “Oh, shit.”

(“Hey, language!” Trey shouted--but his protest seemingly went ignored.)

“What’s wrong?” Deuce asked, frowning.

“Check your phone. Check it right now.”

“Is it something seri...” Deuce’s face dropped as soon as he looked at his messages. “Fuck.”

(“I said, language!” Trey tried again, only to be snubbed a second time.)

The distressing text they had received?

SOS SEND HE LP STRAND ED D IN SCAR ABIA CANT GET OUT - Yuu, Grim

Ace and Deuce abruptly stood and bolted toward the exit, much to everyone’s surprise. They paid no mind to the concerned shouts of Trey, nor Crewel, or to the excited barks of Dalmatians no longer held by leashes.

All that remained of where the duo once stood were soggy, half-finished peanut butter dog treats.

[peachyyykid]

Deceivers Ch. 4 - Flit

Word Count: 3748

Chapter 3 - Noble

Chapter 5 - Pirates

One week had passed since the world noble Charlos bought you at the auction house. After the branding, the guards had put you into skimpy lace underwear that barely covered your nipples and ass. You had felt slight relieve when they brought out a piece of fabric to put around your waist, but it was completely see-through and therefore, useless. The exploding collar was still in its place and Charlos added a leash to it.

You would walk behind him with another woman next to you, whom you weren't allowed to speak to. He pulled you through the streets and alleys of Sabaody, the eyes of the people in town made you uncomfortable, their gazes lingering on your exposed body.

It was so utterly embarrassing and degrading. From time to time, you would feel tugs in your chest, but you managed not to cry. Tears meant him kicking or punching you in front of all these people, and that somehow embarrassed you more than being half naked.

Some looked at you with pity, some shady men enjoyed your private parts almost spilling out, but most people just looked away. You were walking with a world noble after all, and they probably didn't want to die. He was usually riding on the back of another slave, and although you were in the same predicament as him, your heart hurt every time he trembled under Charlos' weight. But how could you help him if you couldn't even help yourself?

Every time you spoke without being asked, he gave you a hard back handed slap and if he felt particularly angry, he kicked you until you fell to the ground. The first few days this hadn't stopped you from annoying him on purpose, but the bruises piled up and soon you felt a stinging sensation in your ribs while breathing. The branding on your back healed quite well, although whenever you saw it in a mirror you cringed. They called it "the hoof of the flying dragon", which would be a beautiful name if it didn't have such a horrid back story.

Death, either yours or his, became an option you considered every time "Saint" Charlos groped your ass or fondled with your breasts. The thoughts you had about him grew more and more violent each day. You just wanted to hurt him.

The worst day so far was today. He wanted to eat dinner at a very fancy restaurant, and you stood next to him while he ate, making disgusting smacking and slurping sounds and laughing about "peasants" with his father and sister, who you despised as soon as you met them.

"Dear son", Rosward whistled, "you must give wife 14 the infertility shot as soon as we are home. It would be a shame if our blood were tainted with an improper heir due to your activities."

Your eyes widened as he mentioned infertility shots and the "activities", but you didn't dare to speak. Actually, thinking about it, it didn't really surprise you that much. He gave you the name wife 14, and he most definitely doesn't just display his wives somewhere just to look at them. His intentions were clear as glass.

"It will be so much fun, wife 14! I will get good use out of you", Charlos cheered while grabbing a handful of your exposed ass, making you flinch. You just wanted to smash his head into the plate of food.

"I know a good doctor, brother. If she wears out, he can stitch her back up, my friend said his mistresses were just like new", Shalria giggled behind her hand and Charlos formed his mouth into an o-shape. The fact that they spoke so freely about these things as a family, while normal families talked about their kids' school days or something, made you shiver in fear of what he was ready to do in private.

Her mentioning stitching you up sounded so nonchalant, while this practice was nothing else than disgusting. Some of your medicine books mentioned it, but it was a really old tradition that was actually forbidden by the world government. And here were the world nobles, completely ignoring rules that applied to everyone else (and for a good reason that was).

Jeany was right and all your life, you had blindly believed all these great and noble things you learned about the government and the world nobles.

How could I have been this stupid..., you thought and lowered your head. Small tears were forming in the corners of your eyes, and you blinked them away before anyone could see them.

If you had told your past self about the life, you had now you would have laughed. It was kind of ridiculous. Suddenly, something dawned you: You definitely had to flee, but time was running out. As soon as Charlos took you to Mary Geoise it was over, there was no way to get away from there. Your escape had to happen on Sabaody, basically the sooner the better.

Carefully, you eyed your surroundings in the restaurant. It was a fancy place, white furniture and walls with floor length windows. All the waiters were dressed in suits and had impeccable posture, carrying shiny silver plates with dish covers.

According to their status, the world nobles were seated on an open landing above the other guests. A flight of stairs led to the ground floor, with the kitchen on the left. Waiters scurried in and out of the room, trying their best to satisfy the demanding customers.

The world noble's table was the only one on the landing. It looked very expensive, clad in a white satin tablecloth reaching the floor. They sat on comfy chairs that matched the table.

Charlos' disgusting smacking and slurping never left your ears and it was becoming unbearable. Neither him, nor his father and sister were paying you any attention while they indulged on their food. You would expect table manners from someone like them, but they just looked like hungry pigs.

You frowned and carefully glanced at Charlos' other wife next to you. When she looked back, you motioned towards the stairs with your eyes. She widened her eyes in shock and shook her head, telling you to stop having crazy ideas.

If you were honest to yourself, you didn't even know what your plan was. You went through some ideas in your head.

Plan A was running, nothing else. But you ditched that plan quickly, they would just catch you or make your collar explode. Plan B was better, attacking them to get a chance to get rid of the collar. But how? The guards in the auction house said even attempting to remove it would trigger the explosion. Both of these possibilities weren't perfect, but you didn't have a plan C either.

However, fate decided to play in your favour.

A young waiter was coming up the stairs with another plate for the nobles, which was filled up to the brim with food. He visibly struggled balancing the silver platter and just before he reached the safety of the table, the plate wobbled dangerously, and he lost concentration. With wide eyes you watched as the plate tipped over in his hands, comically slow. The waiter tried to catch it, but he only made it worse. Mid-air, he hauled the plate towards Charlos and his family instead of catching it and the dish landed on their faces with a splattering sound.

The whole situation seemed like a theatre play. Before you could even think twice about it, you used the confusion around you to roughly yank at the leash that was connected to Charlos' chair, resulting in it tipping over with him on it. With a loud thud, his body hit the ground. Shalria and Roswald shrieked, trying to wipe the food away from their faces. Charlos tried to get up, but he just rolled around on his back like a fat bug.

"Shalria!", he yelled from the floor, "get the remote!"

This was your cue. You made a beeline for the stairs, carefully not to trip over the poor waiter. You pulled him up by the collar.

"You need to run, they'll kill you", you said and then looked back at the other enslaved woman, who was still standing there motionless. She shook her head and didn't budge, and you knew that she was too scared to run. It was her decision though, you couldn't help her if she didn't want it.

The leash was rustling behind you as you hurried down the stairs. If Charlos got a hold of the remote to make your collar explode it would be over for you, but it would still be better than being tortured and raped in Mary Geoise until they disposed of you.

Since the nobles were still screaming their heads of, you figured that they still hadn't found it.

At the end of the stairs, you quickly jumped into the kitchen, past some waiters who wanted to attend the scene on the landing.

"Ok, what do I do now", you panted, running around the room hurriedly. While scanning the counters and appliances with your eyes, they fell on a big pot of cooking oil.

With no hesitation, you grabbed the pot and poured the oil over your head and the explosive collar. If you tried hard enough, you could squeeze your head through it with the help of the greasy liquid.

"Hot!", you swore when the oil hit your skin, but luckily it wasn't hot enough to burn you.

You sat on the floor, rubbing the oil over your head and neck. Suddenly, the collar started beeping and you put two and two together. It was only a matter of time until the collar would explode. Breathing heavily and stretching your neck as far as possible, you pulled on it with slippery hands.

"Please... please. Come. Off!", you cried and with one last pull, the collar slipped over your head, landing on the floor next to you. You felt a sharp pain in your ears from the collar going past them, but you had to ignore that for now.

Your breathing picked up when the collar started beeping faster and you kicked it mindlessly, to get it as far away from you as possible. You managed to kick it a good meter farther and the collar exploded with a loud noise. The impact pushed you to your back and your ears were ringing.

A sharp pain travelling from your foot up to your hip pulled you back into reality. The explosion had been too close after all, and you saw your leg bleeding.

"Oh my god", you panted, and tears were threatening to blur your vision. Reading about such things in books was way different than seeing yourself being actually hurt, and the pain was numbing your head.

I don't have time for this, you thought and pulled your leg up carefully, wiping the tears away. You had another look around the kitchen and found some towels and a roasted piece of meat with some string around it.

Somehow, you heaved yourself up, finding support on the counters. The string around the meat easily came off and the paper towels weren't far either.

"Ok, I know what to do. I learned this", you said while wrapping the towels around your injured leg. You hissed when the material touched the wound, but it couldn't be helped. You tried your best tying the string around it and when it felt like it could last a while, you started limping towards a door at the end of the kitchen that you assumed would lead outside.

It was only a matter of time until the nobles came after you, so you approached the door as fast as possible. Luckily, it wasn't locked, and you peered through the frame. You were right, it did lead outside and even better, you couldn't see anybody. When the door fell back, you could hear aggravated screaming outside the kitchen door.

"What am I paying you stupid bodyguards for! If you don't find that slut, I will feed your guts to the dogs!" That was Charlos, who had apparently called his bodyguards inside the restaurant for a little help.

You couldn't afford to think about the consequences of your escape if they found you, so instead you picked up your pace. Your leg hurt like hell, but you would have to deal with it later. Your primary goal was to survive.

When another wave of adrenaline hit you, you started running in the direction that would lead you the farthest away from the restaurant. Charlos and his guard dogs would surely find you in no time if you hesitated, although it was getting dark outside.

"Shit", you exclaimed when you saw where you had ended up after a good minute of running. It was the shore, and there was no way to run any further. Sabaody was made of several small islands, but there wasn't a bridge or anything that would lead you to the next island. If you ran along the shore, they would spot you instantly.

Anxiously, you looked around. The only thing you spotted was a ships mast behind a tree. No matter who this ship belonged to, it was your only hope. The furious voice of Charlos rang in your ears and you made your way towards the ship.

It seemed like there was no one aboard and when you were close enough, you wanted to shout out to them, but you decided against it when Charlos' voice came closer. There was no ladder on the ship, so you had to think quickly.

The adrenaline made the pain in your leg more bearable, and you managed to jump high enough to grab the gunwale. You lost the hold as soon as you wanted to haul yourself on deck, since your hands were still slippery from the oil. You tried to hold onto the hull, but to no avail. With a loud splashing sound, you landed in the ice-cold water.

"Shi-", you hissed and cursed Charlos' clothing choice for you. The coldness was all around your body and you were afraid that you'd freeze to death, although the sea water soothed your injured leg.

"Guards!", bellowed Charlos' nasal voice and your heartbeat picked up instantly.

They found me!

You pressed your body under water and as close to the bottom of the hull as possible. If they couldn't see you, they would maybe retreat. Your heart beat so fast that you thought it was impossible to overhear from where they stood. But instead of checking the water, the men jumped on the ship.

"Search that ship and then come back immediately!", Charlos ordered, and you prayed that they wouldn't sink it when they were done. It was your only hiding spot.

Shalria's shrill voice came from the distance. "Brother! Brother come back quick, wife 10 tried to escape but we managed to stop her!"

Charlos tsked angrily, turned on his heel and his guards left the ship. They slowly went back to the restaurant, and he muttered inaudible things under his breath, sounding very upset.

Wife 10 tried to escape... that poor woman, why didn't she come with me!

The other woman's fate was settled. It was surely over for her, and you felt guilty that you didn't take her with you, by force if necessary. But it was too late. It was a miracle that you managed to escape, and luck had really been on your side tonight.

By now, the sea water had washed away the oil, and you started another attempt at climbing up the hull, digging your fingers into the bumpy wood as hard as possible. Maybe you could treat your wounds on the ship and find something to eat, in the best case some new clothes. This was probably a ship belonging to some merchants or something. If you explained your situation to them, they'd surely understand.

It was a particularly dark night, so you did neither see that the bow was actually a dinosaur skull, nor the pirate flag swaying proudly in the breeze. A white skull with fiery red hair and goggles glanced down on you and watched you as you intruded the ship.

You didn't make it far because a wave of fatigue washed over you, so you decided to sit down first. Immediately you regretted that decision because it took away the adrenaline and you now felt the pain in your entire body. Your leg, your ears and your hands were the worst. You shivered in your wet, skimpy clothes and hugged your body tightly to gain some warmth.

For the first time since the start of your escape, you felt empty and lost. You had thought that it would become better, that being away from the world nobles would make your situation more hopeful, but nothing changed. You had nowhere to go. Your parents were still dead, everyone at home was dead. You didn't know where your brother was and no way of finding out. You had never been told where exactly Deku-sama lived and walking around on Sabaody wasn't an option either.

For now, you could only sit around on this ship. You wanted to stand up, to at least find a blanket and some food, but at the same time you wanted to sit in the freezing cold to numb the pain. Finally, you were able to cry. It was relieving to at least feel some kind of emotion.

Violent sobs racked your body and the planks below you turned dark with tears. At last, you could let it all out. You curled up into a ball on the wooden planks. It must have been pitiful to look at, and you wished for someone to pull you into their arms, rocking you back and forth to comfort you. You craved the gentle embrace of your mother or even just your father patting your back. Something, just some kind of physical comfort. But you would never feel that kind of tender care again because everyone was gone.

After what felt like hours of crying, your tears had dried and only occasionally you let out a quiet whimper. You didn't know if the physical or the emotional pain was worse. The makeshift bandage on your leg was merely a piece of cloth now, but at least the bleeding had stopped. You looked at the throbbing limb and tried to concentrate on something other than the obvious pain.

It was useless. The crying and the pain took a toll on your body, and you slowly slipped into a rough sleep, feeling as numb as never before.

You woke up startled, scurrying around on the deck because of one of many nightmares that you had since you were abducted. You blinked rapidly, trying to make out your surroundings. It was dawn already and you could finally see what kind of ship you climbed onto. It was quite colourful, a black mast and sail, a green galley, red quarters, and a giant yellow skull in the front. A very odd merchant ship.

A giant yellow skull in the front? A black sail... there's a skull with flames on said sail..., you thought, looking up.

"Holy shit, not again!", you exclaimed while letting your eyes roam the ship. Again, you had somehow ended up on a fucking pirate ship. A brutal looking one at that. It was a lot larger than the ship of that dirty captain and looked more special. There was no doubt that it belonged to a ruthless pirate crew.

Loud chattering and hoarse laughter shifted your attention towards the shore. Carefully, you peeked over the railing. You saw a group of men in the distance, making their way towards the ship. With wide eyes you watched them banter with each other, but soon your eyes fell on the tall man walking in the middle, who didn't engage in the playful antics of the others.

He just smirked, carrying a bottle of alcohol in his right hand, his left hand stuffed in his trouser pockets leisurely. He wore a dark, heavy looking fur coat with golden spikes and a thin leather bandolier around his chest, holding a dagger and a small gun.

You looked at the sail above you, then back at his face. No doubt, it was his jolly roger up there. The fiery red hair and the goggles on his forehead were definitely his trademark. You studied his appearance a little more, even though you were scared to your bones.

His height was impressive. He was the tallest among the crew and the fur coat didn't hide his bare chest, his muscular torso clearly visible. His amber eyes, no, his whole face was intimidating. It took you a few seconds to realise that he didn't have eyebrows, but it didn't look ridiculous. He had red lips, kind of matching his hair.

You found yourself staring at him a little too long, not really knowing why. Something just drew you to him. His face and demeanour screamed danger, but he somehow fascinated you with his confident stance and his fierce eyes. His presence was overwhelming, although not in a bad way. He was different from the other men you had met in your life.

You should have escaped the ship while you still had time, but you had lost yourself in the man's eyes. When you came back to your senses, the group had nearly reached the ship, and you hurried to the other side of the deck to jump into the water. Finding a hideout on Sabaody to look for an innocent soul to help you or the marines seemed a better option than staying on yet another pirate ship, even with the world nobles at your heels.

You wanted to run but your leg didn't really allow it. With a few last limps, you barely reached the opposite railing. A whooshing sound behind you made you halt and turn around. The huge shadow of the man in the fur coat blocked the rising sun as he jumped onto the deck. Frozen in shock, you missed the last chance of escaping into the water.

With doe eyes, you watched him as he landed in front of you, inspecting your sitting frame with a frown.

"Who the fuck are you and why are you on my fucking ship?"

[sweetaesuga]

in your heart | halloween

pairing: jungkook x female reader

genre: fluff, lil smut, fratboy jk, ex-fuckboy jk, bookworm reader! established relationship!

warnings: language, jk is horny😐 but she lets him hit it🤠, annoying kids

word count: 2.1k

synopsis: halloween with jungkook and his cousin.

timeline: takes place after the events of in your eyes

↳ in your heart; masterlist

a/n: this is late but EYES WIDE OPEN IS A BOP. i need to start writing my next fic and stop writing drabble skdjdjd

"Fuck, you look so good. Lets just go to your place and spend the night there. Fuck them kids," Jungkook's hands disappeared under your purple dress that he adored and despised at the same time. He wasn't complaining but he didn't want any other person possibly looking up your dress to catch a peek of his favorite pink panties.

"We're not ditching Hyun. You promised him last time that you wouldn't miss out again," he groaned as he instantly knew what you were referring to. Last Halloween, he ditched the both of you for a girl he was wanting to mess around with. Jungkook wasn't going to let this opportunity pass up so last minute he notified you that he wasn’t coming.

"Stop reminding me of my shitty mistakes," he sighed. His face was buried into your green scarf that tickled you every five seconds. His slicked back hair brushed against your cheek constantly. His hands slipped under your underwear causing you to yelp and push him away. "What the hell is wrong with you? It's Halloween and there's kids around."

He pouted, his lower lip pushing out. "What's wrong with me? Not my fault, you look incredible," his eyes lingered on your purple gogo boots that he seemed to be obsessed with. Even imagined you bent over with them while he was behind you, pounding into you. You looked so angelic with them on. He wasn't sure how long he can hold himself back for. "Why would you wear this if you know how I am?"

"It's our costume, dumbass," you pointed at his white pollo shirt with the bright red tie in between. His dark jeans which tightly enclosed around his thick thighs. "I'm Daphne and you're Fred Jones," you turned away from him, waiting on his cousin to burst through those doors anytime soon so you could avoid Jungkook’s stare.

"Why couldn't we be Shaggy and Velma?" he leaned on the hood of his car, watching a child trip over his own feet. He was close to bursting out in laughter but you shot him a glare just in time. "I wasn't gonna laugh. Seriously though, we're better off as them. Appearance wise—well actually Daphne could've suited you more than Velma but whatever."

You rolled your eyes and stood next to him. His arm came around your shoulder to hold you close. His Victoria's Secret perfume was strong but you don't comment on it."Hyun wanted to be Shaggy. It would make way more sense for him to be, he has a dog."

The second you finished your sentence, a brown Great Dane puppy came running down to you from the house his owner was in. Her steps are big as she leaped to make it to Jungkook and you fast. You squealed, throwing your boyfriend's arm off of you. Jungkook would whine about it but how could he, when it's a cute puppy.

"Nala! Hi girl, how are you doing?"she wagged her tail around as you bent down to caress her fur. A red harness around her chest but no sign of a leash on her. "You don't have your leash on, go put your leash on!" she ignored you and jumped on you again.

"We should get a dog," Jungkook thought out loud from thinking about it too hard. His ears flushed a tint of red from the tip. He turned to see your reaction but you don't appear to be bothered from his suggestion. He released a breath he didn't notice he was holding in. His stupid mind wondering the impossible. There was no way you would want a dog with him.

Luckily his aunt and cousin saved him from any more trouble. He rolled his eyes when Hyun came running to your arms instead of him, his cousin. His brown hair was messy to fit the role of Shaggy. Honestly, Jungkook still thought that he would've made a perfect Shaggy.

"Aww, you look so adorable Hyun! I haven't seen you in almost a year," you hugged him tightly. Ignoring the way your boyfriend was glaring at him, he kissed your cheek. "I can't believe I missed your birthday, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," he reassured you as his mother came from behind him. She greeted the two of you, mentioning how she was happy when she found out the news of the two of you being together.

"It was about time," she muttered under her breath, taking a glance at Jungkook when she bent down to hook the leash on Nala. He looked away, ashamed of previous actions. If Jungkook could’ve been with you over sooner, he would've stopped fooling around with other girls. "Alright, you got everything?" Hyun nodded and gave his mom a kiss. "Behave good for Jungkook and Y/N," she turned to you, handing over this pumpkin basket. "If anything happens please call me. Have him home by ten please."

"We will, come on Hyun," you held your hand for him to take. He hugged his mother again before grabbing your hand. The contrast between the two was cute, your larger hand engulfed his. Jungkook made sure that he rubbed the top of Hyun’s head gently so he wouldn't fuss about Jungkook being extra vicious with him.

Hyun waved at his mother as Jungkook clutched his free hand, watching her figure shrink. He tightened the grasp around your hand. Nala walked in front of you, sniffing all the areas. She became annoyed at one kid, dressed as a witch, coming to pet her harshly. Jungkook was close to telling the child to fuck off but you warned him.

"You're not dad material," you followed Hyun to a house. Jungkook's hot on your trail and ready to defend himself but Nala ran towards a plant to piss on it. "Seriously, don't bother trying to get me pregnant, I do not want your babies."

"Oh shut up. You told me I'm daddy material."

"I thought we agreed we weren't into that too," Hyun ran up the house with the minimal decoration. There were really no other Halloween decorations besides the basket outside with a note on it and a pumpkin on the right. Talk about being in the spirit. "It says to take one," you pointed at the basket filled with bags of candy.

"Take all of them."

"No! Just take one."

"Take all of them, who cares?"

"I care!" you turned around to give him a dirty look. He was already smiling at you, apparent that he knew that he was annoying you. "Take all of them, one of the kids are eventually going to," he shrugged when you continued to stare at him. "I'm speaking facts, bubs—oh! Nala's pooping, did you bring a bag?" he asked while having a stare down with the puppy. Her eyes stared simply at Jungkook as she continued her business on the freshly mowed grass.

"Why would I bring a pooping bag?!" you turned towards him and away from Hyun. He picked up handfuls of candy, nearly putting it in his basket before he noticed something.

"Well shit," Jungkook laughed, looking around to see if any other kid heard him. There's a group of kids coming for the house you're standing at. "My aunt didn't give me one."

"I'm not leaving the poop here," you pointed to the sign that clearly said to pick up after your dog. Jungkook groaned before becoming aware of what was in Hyun's hand. He handed him the poop bag, small poop emojis imprinted over it.

"That's so cute," you gushed over the stupid bag and the puppy too. You don't listen to the basket of candy being emptied into Hyun’s pumpkin basket, too engrossed into Nala. Jungkook shot a thumps up to Hyun, satisfied with his cousin.

Even if you do seem to notice how full his basket was despite only being to five houses, you don't mention it. His collection of candy for the night was becoming so full, Jungkook had to carry some in the pockets of his blue jeans until they eventually became stuffed. He also filled up a takeout bag of Burger King where Jungkook took the two of you to eat.

Nala's on his lap, sleeping from the almost two hour walk. Jungkook picked her up after the first hour and was pleased with how sweet she was in his arms. She clearly enjoyed his warmth the most out of the two of you. The evidence was her snoozing in the middle of noisy fast food place. Hyun was somewhat tired and ready for bed. His bedtime was nearing and the signs of exhaustion were lucid.

"Is Y/N like your girlfriend?" Hyun asked, his chicken nuggets being sloppily dipped in the ketchup. His feet swung high since he was unable to touch the ground.

"Sadly, yes," Jungkook sighed and looked over at you. He smiled at you as he watched the grin grow on your face. "We're dating now. No longer am I a free man, Hyun."

"If you marry her then does that mean she's like part of the family?" Hyun blinked. A bit of ketchup sliding down the corner of his mouth before you wipe it for him.

"Yes—actually I don't what she'll be to you but yes she'll be apart of the family," Jungkook grabbed a fry before pointing it at you. "So if you want her to become apart of the family, tell her to start proposing to me."

"Isn't it the other way around?" he asked, innocently. His curious eyes make your heart flutter.

"No," Jungkook and you respond at the same time. He kicked your boot lightly underneath the table, smiling like an idiot. "Y/N will be proposing to me, we would like to break stereotypes. I want an expensive ring too and I expect you to take care of me."

"Can I be your boyfriend too?" Hyun almost cut off Jungkook to ask his question. You could practically see the steam rushing out of Jungkook's ears the second his cousin finished. You giggled and nodded. Jungkook kicked you underneath the table, trying to persuade you to glance over at him. Hyun hugged you, eyeing your boyfriend. The glint of the sinister in there from your response.

"Well if I marry her, she's my wife," Jungkook jabbed his pointer finger into the boy's chest. "And you're just her boyfriend so you would be nothing compared to me," he leaned back. His arms crossed over his chest, his biceps flaunting out of nowhere. You mentally rolled your eyes at his competitiveness emerging. "Besides she said she wanted a big strong man not a little boy like you."

"That's not true, right?" Hyun turned to you. His eyes begging to you that you truly did not say that. You were prepared to disagree but Jungkook spoke again.

With a playful smug on his face, he rubbed the end of his combat boot against your exposed skin. "That's not she told me last—"

You kicked his leg harshly, earning a cry from him. He grunted as his small jump away from you awakened the puppy. "Be quiet, we're literally in a public place," your cheeks are warm from the information about your intimacy he was spilling out. "We should get going, it's getting late," you slid out of the booth and ignored the protests of the boys who wanted to stay longer. You poured water into Jungkook's hands for Nala to drink outside before departing.

Jungkook carried Hyun on the way back. Slumber made up its mind and took over the exhausted kid. He had poured his energy out running from door to door. Jungkook offered to also carry Nala on his other side but you didn't want to force him to bear all that weight so you suggested for him to take the basket. Once you returned to his aunt’s home, his uncle removed Hyun from his arms before thanking you for looking after him and wishing you a good night.

Jungkook's ready to doze off too tired from the events of tonight to even go to his own place. His ascot tie undone by the time he reached your small apartment complex. He almost missed it if he didn't stop to stare into the mirrors to make sure he wasn't parking on the red line. Your fingers hooked around the ends of your pink lacy underwear before pushing it down. He doesn't grasp how in a blink of an eye, you're on top of him with your buttons from your dress undone.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his hands already on your hips to direct them. Jungkook fidgeted as he watched you pull the straps of your bra down slowly. He was on the verge of taking you right then and there in the backseat of his car as you teased him.

“Giving you your sweets too.”