#maybe I’m a little traumatised

[lolli-says-stuff]

Me: screaming and crying in emotional pain because I thought about all the things my father never got to do

My playlist:

[willowfey]

sometimes life is boohoo sad and then ur mom brings u back a creamy mango lemonade freeze with mango boba and hello kitty halloween spa things and suddenly u are woohoo glad

[myname-isnia]

I’ve been so completely out of it all day bc of last night’s revelation, it’s literally been the only thing I could think about, and the deeper I get in analysing my life experiences the more realisations I come to, and each one feels more horrific than the last.

Not horrific as in terrible, but as in it feels like whatever remains of my sense of self is completely falling apart. I thought I was bi for so long, didn’t even spend a single second questioning it. Never did I even think that I may be wrong, it seemingly made too much sense for me to be wrong. But the sense it made was the fact I was attracted to both male and female characters in animated shows, not real people.

I don’t think I’ve ever had a crush on a real person before. Not on someone I knew irl, nor on some actor/celebrity, nor on someone I saw on tiktok or wherever. And it’s like, I can acknowledge someone is attractive, even that someone is beautiful or hot, but it’s never personal when I do. Pretty girls I see don’t linger in my mind at all. I can’t picture myself dating them or getting intimate or kissing them or anything. It’s a purely aesthetic attraction with no feelings behind it. With animated/drawn characters it’s different, I can actually feel all the physical side-effects of looking at someone you’re romantically attracted to. But when the scale of a drawing slides too far towards realism, like with museum paintings or even that one Suiren portrait I drew once, the attraction fades again. I’m just not and have never been attracted to real people.

At my old school the topic of which celebrities you found hot came up often and I never knew what to say. Naming the ones I knew were conventionally beautiful but I wasn’t personally attracted to felt like lying, so eventually I started naming people my mom found hot. She’d tell me which actors she had a crush on when we watched movies or shows together and I pretended to see her point. After a while I managed to convince myself that it wasn’t pretending and that I really agreed with her. I realise now it all boiled down to purely aesthetic attraction again, I had no genuine interest in them. And one could assume it was just my preference for women showing, but female celebrities faced the exact same treatment from me.

I started reevaluating a lot of sexuality-related feelings and life moments. My dad’s SIL often laments how I’m 17 and don’t have a boyfriend yet, and when I say I don’t want one she goes “Why? It’s not like you have to sleep with him, wouldn’t it be nice to be gifted flowers and taken on dates and the like?” I usually just shrug but my internal answer was always a resounding no. I once again thought I just liked girls more, but when I actually thought about what if dad’s SIL wasn’t homophobic and posed the question in a sapphic way, I realised that my answer wouldn’t change. I don’t want a partner of any gender or to be taken out on dates or anything like that.

It was here that things really started to go downhill for me last night bc then, once I realised I didn’t want a girlfriend, I turned my attention to the more sexual side of things. It’s possible to be aromantic and allosexual, right? But I’ve known for a while that a lot of sex-related things are a very big ick for me, penetration of any kind being on top of the list. Forget dicks and toys, I don’t want fingers or tongues inside me either, not have I ever used a tampon. But not everyone likes penetration, that’s fine, there are other things. But the thought of someone lavishing my tits with affection just makes me way too hyper aware of them which triggers my dysphoria, and I’ve always found kissing to be extremely gross, and… pretty much every sexual act I can think of causes some kind of rejection in me. Fantasies are fine, fics/writing are fine, even watching porn is fine for the most part (even then, I can only get off to it if I imagine 2d characters in place of the people), but the second I think of something actually being done to me? It makes my toes curl in a very much bad way.

I’m by no means a completely non-sexual being, quite the opposite actually. I’m horny a lot of the time and it’s completely normal for me to get off at least once almost every day, but again, it’s all only in fantasies (which never feature me, only characters). I’m so averse to the idea of fucking or being fucked that I don’t even touch myself, ever. I accidentally discovered that rubbing my thighs together in a specific way feels good when I was younger and have just been doing that ever since. I’ve tried using my hands but it’s just not pleasurable in any way. I really don’t want anything or anyone touching me, ever, at all. And it’s so weird to realise because it seems natural for someone with as high of a libido as mine to want to be fucked, right? But the mere thought disgusts me and causes insane anxiety to overtake my entire body, and idk if there’s a clearer way for my mind to tell me that no, you don’t want any of that, trust me.

That’s another thing. Maybe I’m just scared. I have debilitating anxiety, I’m terrified of literally everything, of course that, added to my body image issues and complete inexperience in all manners romantic or sexual, would result in these types of feelings. Maybe I just haven’t met the right person yet who will awaken my attraction to real people and cause me to want a partner and romance and sex and whatever else. Maybe I’ve convinced myself that I’m too much of a mess for anyone to love me so it’s better to label myself as aroace before I get my heart broken. I don’t know. But writing it off on all that doesn’t feel right, and while I’m not exactly the best judge of my own feelings, my gut is telling me that I’m wrong. It’s not anxiety and inexperience, it’s my very real borderline aromantic and asexual feelings finally being acknowledged.

I think back on my life. I thought I had serious crushes before, I even had a girlfriend for a few months, but that was all initiated by someone else. The other person showed interest first and I thought “Okay, they’re pretty enough, maybe I can do this, maybe I just need to get into it and the feelings will come later”. Nothing ever went anywhere beyond hand holding or brief hugs, and I was okay with that. I enjoyed spending time with them and lit up whenever they showed up and thought that’s what loving someone felt like. But now that I have real friends that I’m 100% sure I’m not attracted to, I realised I feel the exact same way towards them. I just like being with people who want to spend time with me and who I share common interests with, and I like being paid attention to. Nothing romantic to it. When it comes to my good friends I always had a position of “Well I don’t find them particularly attractive but if they were romantically interested in me then I’d go for it” and thought that was a crush. It’s no wonder anything vaguely romantic in my life ended before it could properly start. Really hard to be in love with or build a relationship with someone who clearly doesn’t feel romantically interested in you, even if they’re trying very hard to be.

And that’s the center of the whole issue. There’s nothing wrong with being aroace, nor with being wrong about the label you chose when you were 12. What makes be sob for hours is this feeling as if a knife was driven through my heart. All these years I’ve been subconsciously lying to myself and I didn’t even know. I can’t blame myself for that, I’m aware, I had no way of realising I was wrong because I never had any experience. But the pain and confusion and sense of being lost are still there, beyond all rationalisation. And all those times I said I wanted to be railed by a pretty girl and other similar things to that? Also not true. I said those things because it felt like what a horny queer girl should say. It wasn’t a conscious lie, I really believed it when I said it, it never even registered as false until now. Until I dug deep inside myself and realised I don’t want to be railed by anyone in any way ever. For the longest time I genuinely thought I wanted what’s normal for queer allosexual women to want. It’s hard coming to terms with that I really, really don’t. I’ll definitely need some time to process everything properly,

Honestly, this revelation isn’t too surprising, all things considered. I once had a conversation with someone who talked about those younger years of every queer girl, staring at other girls in the changing rooms, wanting to date them, wanting to be a boy so it’d be possible before they knew gay people existed and becoming sneakier with their glances after they found out. And I really couldn’t relate to that. I’ve never felt attracted enough to someone to experience any of that. Back then I thought I couldn’t relate bc I never had a sexuality crisis nor did I hide my sexuality from the other girls in my class, almost all of whom were queer too. Turns out I just genuinely don’t experience attraction like that. Or at least I think I don’t. I don’t know. Now that I’ve got most of my thoughts regarding all this on ‘paper’, hopefully I’ll have a clearer mind and can come to a more concrete conclusion. And for now… let’s just put me very firmly in the ‘questioning’ box.

[mwahmimi]

could i request smut w hotch based on the song daddy issues by the nbhd? 🖤

Daddy issues 🍭

Dating Aaron had been incredibly healing. Maybe it was his calloused fingers interlocked in yours as he pulls you to walk on his right, the side furthest away from the road. Or maybe it was the bags of your favourite candy that he would bring home on a Friday evening, always on a Friday. He said it was your weekly reward, but you joked and called it your candy allowance. Aaron always chuckled at that, ruffling your hair playfully and pressing his lips to your forehead. Whatever it was, it was healing your inner child.

You weren’t traumatised by any means, but you would definitely say you were damaged goods. Growing up in a single parent household left its mark. Your father left when you were too young, with no memory of him at all, not even his face. You looked for love in other men, men who would typically drink too much beer and push you around when their soccer team lost. That was until you met Aaron Hotchner.

His touch felt like fireworks, every kiss adding to the butterfly farm deep in the pit of your stomach. He looked after you. He tucked you in at night, never forgetting to tuck your teddy bear next to you too. He’d take you to get your nails done, smiling to himself as he watched you chat away to your nail artist, but he beamed when you revealed you’d chosen his favourite colour.

Aaron never left you high and dry, never unsatisfied. That also went for in the bedroom too, that man was a god. He would never let you leave the bed if you hadn’t drenched his sheets, he only ever wanted to drink in your pleasure, never once worrying about his own.

He swirls his tongue through your folds like a pro, tasting your pleasure on the tip of his tongue and groaning at the flavour of your musk. That man could eat you for breakfast, lunch and dinner and still be hungry for desert. With every mew that escapes your lips he takes your sensitive bud into his mouth and softly sucks on it, with just enough pressure to be almost overstimulating, keeping you on the edge of ecstasy. Just teetering between pleasure and pain, and it’s all for him. Every moan, every pull of his raven hair and squeeze of your thighs over his ears, he knows it’s all because you belong to him. His girl.

“Oh are you crying? Go ahead, cry little girl. Tell me who’s eating this pussy so good. Who is it?”

Aaron smirks into your cunt smugly as you whine, your body writhing on his tongue.

“Y-you. You daddy.”

You manage to pull the words from your mouth, whispering through your moans. You can’t take it anymore, you need him. Your core clenches around nothing, feeling empty. He strops against the bed, his hand shuffling down to palm his painfully hard cock before pulling it out and looming over you. His shadow an image on the wall that you want to keep in your fondest memories.

“Daddy huh? That’s right princess! I’m your daddy.”

Hotch grunts, spanking his cock against your overworked clit. Without warning, he shifts his angry red tip towards your entrance, gathering as much of your slick as he can over himself. He thrusts inside, immediately hitting that spongey spot. Swearing you can feel him deep in your womb your back arches off the bed, almost levitating in pleasure. He feels so good, he always does. None of your other partners have ever made you feel this good, his cock was made just for you. He fits perfectly inside you, like the missing piece of your puzzle.

“Look at you, you’re trembling! You just let me do whatever I can do with your little body? Daddy’s pretty little fuck toy.”

Nearing your release, you start begging Aaron’s favourite aphrodisiac was always your inconsolable begging. It drove him like nothing else, his kryptonite. He fucks into your harder, deeper, like a man possessed.

“Let go. Let go for me.”

You come undone together, in a symphony of pleasure. Fingers intertwined together holding each other through release. Every touch is electric and beautiful. You belonged. You felt whole, Aaron was the second part of you. He was your home, but not the empty home back in small town of your birth. He was the home you found, when you needed it most, and where you would live forever.

[rainbow-nerdss]

AITA for accidentally traumatising a 13 year old kid by pretending to be his dead mom?

So basically a couple of weeks back i (33F) was at work and I noticed this guy (30sM) staring at me. Now, this isn’t totally unheard of, I'm kind of used to it because I've done some acting in the past and sometimes people sort of stare while they try to figure out where they know me from. Usually I ignore it, but this guy was like crazy hot so I figured, fuck it, I’ll go talk to him, maybe make a sale out of it. We sort of talked a bit while I served him, and found out he’s a single dad. He had sort of sad vibes and I was kind of into it so when he asked me out I said sure, why not and we agreed to go for dinner.

So everything was going well for a while, we went on a few dates but mostly we facetimed bc he works 24 hour long shifts and scheduling dates around that and a kid is tough, which i totally understood and I was happy to be patient with him.  I should also say we still haven’t kissed at this point, even when he took me out on a boat on a lake, which was probably in my top 5 dates of all time? Anyway, I got the vibe he was holding back a bit but I figured I could wait bc he seemed like he was working through some stuff and dating in LA is fucking hard. 

What happened next was where the real shit started to hit the fan, though.

Basically, I decided to bring him some brownies at work, but I mistimed it and he’d already gone home so I gave them to his coworker who looked at me like I was a ghost or something. I should have recognised something was off then but I brush it off and the next day I get a call from the guy, and he asks me to come over to his place which hasn’t happened before. I figure this is a good sign, that maybe he’s ready to start moving things forward, but when I get to the house, there’s all these pictures on the coffee table and they all look EXACTLY like me. My first thought was: holy shit, this guy’s a stalker. Great. Then I looked closer, though, and the pictures weren’t even of me. Turns out, I look exactly like this guy’s dead wife???

Anyway, that was wild and obviously I left after hearing him out a little bc I just needed to wrap my head around it.

Now this next bit might be where i’m the AH, bc i haven’t had a chance to do any acting in a while and I genuinely felt bad for the guy, he just wanted a chance at closure with his wife and I couldn’t really fault him for that. 

So long story short, I cut my bangs (they looked cute in the pictures of his wife so I figured they’d work on me) and I went to his house in character as his wife and encouraged him to say what he needed to say to her. Things got pretty heated and he shared some really intimate thoughts and feelings so I was getting into it, you know? We embraced and I was feeling pretty good about the whole thing. I thought it really helped him until the door opened and in walks his kid with a woman who is apparently his girlfriend? So i guess the single part of “single dad” wasn’t totally accurate either.

Also, the kid called me mom, which kind of broke my heart, and I feel like maybe I might have fucked up somewhere here.

So reddit, I have to ask AITA for pretending to be a dead woman and accidentally being the other woman while simultaneously traumatising a thirteen year old kid?

[onsomenewsht]

Darling heart, I loved you from the start

About when she got her introduction and you got a dog’s toy thrown at you

》 Alexia Putellas x Reader

》 words count: +1k

》 every dog has its day [idiom]: said to emphasise that everyone is successful or happy at some time in their life

“What the fuck is that?!”

You both barely make it into your apartment, hands leaving the handle to hold firmly around each other’s clothes.

Alexia’s defined figure is pressed between your body and the shut door, her thigh shamelessly pushing on you and her lips attacking your jaw and pulsing points.

At least it is until something distracts her.

You look around your dark apartment, quite annoyed about the interruption, spotting the cause of her sudden hesitation.

“Alexia, meet my dog Oliver. Oliver, meet my fuck buddy Alexia”

The blonde’s reply comes in the form of a smack on your arm, eyes still fixed on the pet.

“He’s not a dog, he’s a bear”

“Are you calling my sweet boy fat?”

“He’s taller than you!”

She’s not completely wrong, the German Shepherd can look quite intimidating. The fact he’s somehow still put in the middle of the room, imposing on his four muscular legs with a curious tilt of his head, does not work in his favour.

The light is now switched on, you leave Alexia by the door to take the steps toward Oliver and greet him with affection. He relaxes at the attention, eyes still fixed on the new guest, but he’s definitely enjoying your hands on his dark fur.

“What’s the matter? You knew I have a dog”, the starring context is starting to ruin your mood, “You too─”

“Nala’s a cute little bubble of fluff, he’s─ not”

“Oliver is as sweet as Nala, aren’t you?”

Finally able to please your dog enough to get his full attention, he jumps on your front excited to have his favourite person back home and you have to put a great effort to avoid his wet greetings.

“Now I’m definitely not kissing you again, maybe ever”

“Bold statement for someone who could barely wait for the car to be parked before slipping her tongue in my─”, she finds a dog’s toy lying around to throw at you before you can finish your sentence.

Wrong move, Oliver decides that Alexia’s worth his attention and takes her action as an invite to play.

You have to recall all your dog’s training hours and hide your amusement to make sure the blonde doesn’t leave your apartment traumatised by Oliver’s enthusiasm and that he doesn’t destroy the place.

You manage to leave him entertained in the living room as you lead Alexia into your bedroom, hoping to get back to business.

When you try to kiss her, she covers your face with her hand and lightly pushes you toward the bathroom.

“No, wash your face first!”

“He will grow on you”

~

Oliver grew on Alexia. Slowly, but he grew on her.

On the other hand, your relationship grows a bit faster. Late meetups once or twice a week turn into daily texts and sleepovers, quick coffees on the way each to your own separate lives turn into dinner dates and breakfast in your friends’ favourite places.

That’s how you find yourself on the stand of a football camp, watching two dozen or so women dressed in colourful kits running around a ball and trying to kick it better than one another.

The open-door training day allows you to observe Alexia in her natural habitat without pressure on either of you.

She knows you understand close to nothing about football, the sport never able to grab your attention for more than a couple of minutes.

You met Alexia in a club during her off-season, not impressed at all when a mutual friend tried to let you realise how famous she actually is. You were more focused on her exposed stomach and her quip remarks, to be honest.

However, since you started with the Catalan whatever it is you two started, you managed to find some interest in the sport.

Alexia looks stunning in that ridiculous kit, toned legs and imposing manners on display for you to enjoy. Oliver, beside you, seems pretty involved in the all commotion too, barking loudly whenever a familiar blonde has the ball.

When the session comes to an end, her team takes the time to thank the fans for showing up and for their support. It’s only a matter of time before Oliver takes the spotlight on himself, letting young boys and girls pet him eagerly and gathering some of Alexia’s teammates around him.

“Best wingman ever”, you say to the blonde, loud enough for one of her friends to hear as she laughs and nudges her.

“If only they knew how annoying he actually is”, Alexia whispers directly to your ear.

Both of you take advantage of the distraction created by your dog, walking a couple of steps away from the crowd. Oliver doesn’t get overwhelmed easily and he’s good with kids, so you trust him enough to let him enjoy the praises for some moments.

“He lives for the attention”

“He remembers me of someone, no less with a royal title”

“You’re so lucky there are kids around”, she says as she smiles at a little girl and drops to her height for a picture.

You have the decency to wait for the young mind to leave before taking a step closer to Alexia and whispering, “I’m sure I’m gonna get luckier once there will not be kids around”.

Oliver’s barks stop any comments from the captain.

~

When you come back from an early walkout with an overexcited dog at your heels, you find Alexia in your kitchen wearing just an oversized top and a smug smile.

“Mamá wants to meet you”, she covers her mouth with her self-proclaimed mug.

She’s getting more and more comfortable around your apartment lately, so you let her have the mug and a designated spot on your sofa and you don’t point out her vintage t-shirt collection taking up more space in your closet.

“I met her”, your eyebrow rises in challenge as said mug hides her red cheeks.

“Properly, idiota!”

You both can agree that the woman rushing into the blonde’s apartment, happily bringing a freshly made dinner, but finding you in a compromising position on top of her daughter is not the best way to be introduced.

You still don’t know how to introduce each other in the first place.

“Do you want me to meet her?”

“I met Oliver”

Your dog is currently lying on Alexia’s feet, you catch her giving him bits of her breakfast despite repriming both of them multiple times.

She still insists on saying she doesn’t like him, his excited nature and imposing form too much to deal with. Oliver, as the naive huge animal he is, seems not to care about her initial detachment, always happy to have the Catalan around.

Almost as the Catalan herself.

“You throw a toy at me and won him over, he is a simple boy”

“I think if you do the same, mamá will be as amused”

“Are you gonna introduce me the same way I introduced you?”

“How about we make it official?”

“I’m not sure”, you try to look sceptical as you catch your dog’s attention, “What do you think, Oliver?”

Enthusiastic barks and open laughs fill the room at your question.

fine.

[eternalfics]

Saiki with a reader where he can’t read their mind ?? 😼 maybe reader is a dumbass or somthing and like is always in dangerous situations because OH MY GOD THEY ARE STUPID

saiki with a dumb!reader !!

a/n: okay this time this request was NOT left to rot in the inbox. there actually was a similar request but in this case the reader actually wasn’t dumb. if ur the person who requested it I’m so sorry I put the pictures I just didn’t write anything lol 😇

warnings: uhh boiling water, not going on a crosswalk, tripping idk 😔

as soon as saiki saw you and tried to read your mind, he already knew that you were a dumbass and he didn’t want to talk to you. AT. ALL. saiki thought that you would be like nendo, but as he saw you talking to others, he actually saw you were a nice person! just.. dumb? 😀

you actually went to confess to him at his doorstep, but you tripped and saiki had already opened the door. you quickly stood up and all you had to say were the magic words. 🪄 when you had confessed, you saw that saiki had a slightly red face? meh, maybe that’s just how he is. he was silent for a few seconds, did he not like you back? you even bought him tulips!

he took the tulips and mumbled a little “let’s date,” and he closed the door. did saiki always talk with his mouth? ugh, can’t think about that right now, all you can think about is that he said yes!! you slightly heard some loud squealing from his house, probably his mom. 🙂 you skipped happily back home! before you tripped again..

ever since, saiki has been looking out for you, because you seem too much of a dummy to be alone, and you’re that much of a dummy that you can’t even think? 🤨 so saiki keeps an eye on you all the time.

he likes to keep a first aid in his bags. and when anyone sees it, they think he’s caring and that he’s prepared to help anyone. but really he’s prepared to help you in case you got distracted by a “pretty rock” and tripped. 🫢

sometimes he’s sarcastic with you, but you don’t realise he’s being sarcastic so he just avoids doing that lol. 😭 example:

Scenario:

“kusuo, do you think unicorns poop rainbows?” you randomly ask, a genuine confused look on your face. saiki only sighed and turned to look at you as you both started walking down the hallway. “yes, y/n. because unicorns are totally real,” “right?!” you say excitedly.

when I said that saiki has to keep an eye on you all of the time, HE HAS TO. he can turn away from you while you both are in his kitchen and you are so close to splashing boiling, hot water on your face. 😀 that’s when you absolutely SHOCKED saiki and now he’s traumatised and can’t stop looking away from you whenever you guys are in the kitchen.

you like to video call saiki a lot, so when you are walking down the street with saiki on call he naturally freaks out.

“okay now go on the crosswalk. that’s not the crosswalk, y/n. y/n? Y/N THE CROSSWAL-“

[sunafc]

Just an act - 10, the boyfriend

masterlist

Y/n could see her ex making his way to her and part of her wanted to run away or to punch him or to insult him, but another part of her was paralyzed in place and desperately wanting to talk to him again.

She tries to concentrate on what Kuroo is telling her, she can only make out the words class and professor and then her ex is in front of her. It’s been three years since the breakup, it wasn’t a too bad one — mostly just sad — but she feels slightly nervous to talk to him again. She looks for Kuroo’s hand to hold and when he interlocks his fingers with her she feels a little better.

‘Hi, Y/n,’ the guy waves at her, ‘It’s been a while, hasn’t it?’

She nods, ‘It has,’ it hasn’t really, not for her. She feels like fifty years could not be enough, but she doesn’t care about actually being honest right now.

Kuroo leans down and, trying his best to be discreet, he asks Y/n who the guy is.

‘Oh, this is my ex,’ she says, not discreet at all, ‘But it’s all good,’ mostly, though she leaves that out.

Kuroo has a big smile plastered on his face — definitely not genuine, Y/n notices — as he extends his hand out ‘I’m Kuroo Tetsurou,’ they shake hands, ‘The boyfriend.’

Y/n’s head snaps towards Kuroo and maybe, just maybe, it’s finally her turn to get flustered. She wasn’t expecting him to say that, her ex probably wasn’t either by the look on his face.

‘Are you visiting?’ Y/n asks, to change the subject.

The guy hums, lips still kind of pursed in annoyance, ‘Yeah, came to see my parents,’ his face relaxes a little, ‘They’re doing fine,’ he adds before Y/n could ask about it.

‘That’s good,’ she says about the parents, but she also feels relieved by the fact that he’s only visiting and not moving back to stay. She couldn’t possibly survive the anxiety of risking to meet him every time she would leave her house.

‘Alright then, I’ll let you guys continue your date,’ the guy says with a faint smile, ‘I wouldn’t want to steal her back,’ he winks at Kuroo — who can hardly hide the murderous intent in his eyes.

‘Funny,’ Kuroo says, not even chuckling.

‘Right... Let’s go,’ Y/n waves at her ex and then, still holding Kuroo’s hand, walks away letting out a sigh.

Kuroo squeezes her hands, ‘Are you alright? You seemed a little tense.’

‘I– Yeah, I’m fine,’ she then looks at him with a teasing smirk, ‘Are you?’ she gets a questioning look from Kuroo, ‘You seemed a little jealous,’ she says, full on smiling now.

Kuroo avoids her gaze and turns his head to the side, though Y/n can still see his ears turning red, ‘I wasn’t,’ he says ‘That guy was just annoying, that’s all.’

‘Okay,’ she swings their hands a little.

‘I’m being serious though, are you okay?’ Kuroo asks mainting eye contact, preventing the girl to avoid him, ‘Was he a dick?’

‘No,’ Y/n sighs, ‘No, it’s just a bit complicated,’ she laughs bitterly, ‘Let’s meet Pixel and then I’ll tell you all about it, if you want.’

Kuroo’s room is a bit of a mess, the fact that he shares it with bokuto definitely doesn’t help. Y/n takes notice that Kuroo’s bed is comfortable. She’s laying on it curled up on one side, head resting in Kuroo’s lap. Y/n starts talking, taking deep breaths now and then. Kuroo listen to her, he hums and nods, he plays with her hair.

‘I loved him,’ she says, ‘He loved me too, I know he did,’ her voice is flat as she speaks, ‘But it wasn’t good for either of us, he had some unresolved traumas and he expected me to solve it for him so instead I got traumatised too,’ a big breath, ‘I haven’t really dated anyone after him, nothing serious at least,’ Y/n sits up, next to Kuroo, side by side, ‘Wanna know what I miss the most?’ — He nods — A tear falls down her cheek, followed by a second and a third and soon she’s crying, full on sobbing, ‘I’m sorry,’ she manages to say.

‘No need to apologise,’ Kuroo guides her to rest her head on his shoulder, ‘I’m here, it’s all good,’ he wraps his arms around the girl and lets her calm down.

‘I miss what it could’ve been the most,’ she says in a whisper, ‘I miss what I thought we would’ve been when we got together,’ she shakes her head, grimacing, ‘This is so stupid, it’s been three years already and I still cry about it.’

‘No one is rushing you, Y/n, take your time.’

Maybe it’s the sweet way in which he said those words, maybe it’s the gentle way he’s holding her or, maybe, the way she feels heard, but whatever the reason her heart feels lighter and her mind too. A few more tears fall from her eyes.

notes:

– y/n enjoys online shopping a normal amount

– y/n's ex doesn't have a name bc he doesn't deserve one and i couldn't be bothered to come up with one

– her ex lives in a nearby city so luckily they never see each other or y/n would probably go insane

– she still cares for him even after everything that happened because she knows what he went through and she can't help but feel for him

– kuroo was a little jealous, he can't help it he's a scorpio

– kuroo is in loveeee 💞💗💕💞💓💕

– i hope there aren't too many typos/mistakes in the written portions.. i checked but i always leave something behind somehow 🫠

taglist: @mimi3lover @loveliepa @cryptictheseus @yuminako @xiakyo @httpakkeiji @keioover @ghostgoosygoose @bobblyobbly @phoenix-eclipses @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @v-e-r-t21 @azharyy @some-beans @hilichurl-lover @needtoloveoutloud @cyb-rdva @worldgyu @wyrcan @mawhve @kozu-chan @dreamsofnaughtiness @mfcherry @piapiaweee3 @staygoldsquatchling02 @uhnanix @kuro-ohno @exhailodile @giocriedpower @momoriii-i @honeyfewr @okkupid @asp7n @staarism @gojossixtheyes @localgaytrainwreck @opchara @whosmarjj @millie-the-goth @lilchubbyyy @juie13 @h3xi2g0n3 @myeomiz @kodzuken-hoe @girlkissersco @jadeoru @spiderlily-w1tch-blog @fiannee @thillusionist @juliluvhz taglist closed!

[save-the-villainous-cat]

The hero didn’t even want to look at it.

“Okay,” the villain said. Despite the tears in their eyes, they were a little too calm for the hero’s liking. But they supposed they had always been the opposite to the hero when it came to stressful situations.

Usually the hero could deal with stress pretty well, they were a hero after all, but it was getting increasingly difficult to operate when neither time nor solutions were on their side. It was frustrating and the hero wasn’t used to losing.

“You have to break my femur now,” the villain said. They looked down at the wound and then at the hero who prayed this was a poorly timed joke. “Remember, it’s the strongest and thickest bone in the body, so you may need quite a bit of force.”

“I am not going to break your bones, I—” The hero wanted to throw up. They could see parts of the injury under all that rubble and they didn’t want to imagine how much pain the villain was in right now. The villain didn’t scream nor curse, they bottled everything up and let tears speak for themselves. They knew the villain was tough. But could anyone be this tough?

It was one of the villain’s qualities they admired oh so much but it was also something that seemed to doom them.

“It’s just one bone. I’d do it myself but the angle is shitty and you’re stronger.”

“No, don’t make me do this.” The villain grabbed the hero’s arm quickly and stared them dead in the eye. Their fingers dug into the hero’s suit but it was just a fraction of the pain the villain endured.

The hero panicked. If they had been any other person — hero or villain — they wouldn’t have hesitated to break the bone. But this was them. They didn’t want to hurt them, they didn’t want to break any of their bones.

“Listen, if we want to save my leg, you have to break it. We don’t have much time. I’m bleeding out and I need some fucking painkillers. I’m not gonna stay here so your hero-friends can arrest me.” Their face was pale and the hero’s tongue was heavy.

“I can’t, please, I cannot do that to you.”

“I’m just another villain on your list to cross out,” the villain said. They squeezed the hero’s arm harder and their eyes widened, as if a wave of pain had just hit them. They made a noise close to a grunt but again, they were hiding it perfectly.

“No, you’re not, you’re really not.”

“If you want to save my life, you’ll have to do this. You’re a hero, aren’t you?” The hero had no words left.

The truth was, they had had a crush on the villain for quite some time now and even though they knew rationally they needed to do this, they weren’t quite there emotionally yet.

“You should get a pipe. You crush the bone and then hopefully, it’ll be easier to pull me out. The angle should be better. I might pass out though, I’ll just…” They didn’t look as confident anymore.

“If we wait for my friends to arrive, they can help you, maybe I can—”

“They will arrest me if I’m not dead by then. I’m counting on you.”

I’m counting on you.

The hero’s fingers trembled. Breaking someone’s bone — they had never done that on purpose. And yet, they knew the villain was right. It seemed to be the only way out for them.

“I called you,” the villain said, “because I trust you. I need you. I’ll do you a favour in return, I promise. Just, please.”

The hero took the villain’s hand and pulled it close to their chest.

“I’ll do it,” the hero said.

“Great.” Unsurprisingly, the villain wasn’t happy. Their other hand was shaking and they looked already traumatised. The hero wished they could make this easier but there didn’t seem to be any options left.

“I’ll just have to tell you something real quick.”

“What?”

“I have a crush on you.” The villain stared at them. They didn’t look mad nor did they look annoyed.

“Wait. Really?”

“Yes.”

The hero just had to tell them. If this was it, if the villain would get captured or worse, if they died, they needed to know that the hero had crush on them.

They wouldn’t be able to deal with that for the rest of their life. So whatever happened now, the villain would live through it, knowing what they meant to the hero.

“This is really bad timing, darling.” Another tear ran down the villain’s cheek. They squeezed the hero’s hand.

“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll get the pipe.” The hero didn’t find one. Instead, they found a brick. None of them were particularly enthusiastic about that. “Okay. Again, I’m really sorry.”

The hero grabbed the brick with two hands.

“Wait.” The hero did. “I think I like you too.”

“That doesn’t make it easier,” the hero whispered.

“I thought you needed the challenge.” As answer, the hero let out something closer to a sob than a laugh.

What happened next would give them nightmares for the following decades.

[idy-ll-ique]

mr grumpy man

pairing: mob boss!bucky barnes x f!reader

genre: angst, fluff, smut

warnings: smut, mentions of abuse and wounds, adultery

requested: nope

word count: ~4.3k

summary: bucky kidnaps y/n because her husband owes him money. what happens when he finds out her husband is abusive?

author's note: hi guys! i crossed 1450 followers today, plus my masterlist is about to reach 1000 notes, and ngl i'm kinda excited for that, so i wanted to post. i have been writing fanfiction even though i stopped posting weekly (it's a great stress reliever). so yeah... enjoy! (also lmk if you want me to write and post a part 2, since the ending to this imo feels kind of incomplete) also ik i am reusing names but go with it, it's difficult to come up with names :(

masterlist

-

The sound of her gasp echoed around the garage as the blindfold was lifted off her eyes. Y/N blinked in the dim light, her hand trying to reach up to soothe her aching head, but— She struggled to free her tied hands, to no avail. Finally collapsing against the chair, she looked around the room as her eyes adjusted to the lights. Or the lack thereof.

A bunch of men stood ahead of her. In the centre was a tall, brunet man, his blue eyes glistening with… mirth. He seemed happy, even though his face didn’t betray an emotion. “S-Sir… Who…” Y/N choked out, thanking the Gods that her mouth was still usable. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re awake,” the man crooned, walking up to her. She peered up at him, a little scared and a lot confused. 

Bucky blinked at her. Why… Why was she looking at him like that? There wasn’t an ounce of fear he could see on her face, just— perplexion. “Mrs Silverstein,” he began. “Yeah?” He internally heaved a sigh of relief. At least he had the right person. But then why wasn’t she scared? Surely, being married to a mob boss meant she knew the danger mob bosses posed. “I’m James Barnes.” Y/N cocked her head to the side. “M-Mr Barnes, have you— kidnapped me?” 

“If you know that, why aren’t you scared?!” Bucky burst out impatiently. This woman was starting to get on his nerves with her nonchalance. “...ooh, ah, save me…” Y/N mumbled a couple seconds later, pursing her lips to keep herself from smiling. She never thought she would be, but here she was now! Kidnapped! Meaning, away from her husband! Bucky growled in annoyance. “Are you fucking mocking me or something?”

She hurriedly shook her head, lowering it in shame. “Sorry.” He huffed. “Your husband—” Y/N nearly flinched at the mention. “—has stolen a huge sum of money from me. So now, my dear, you’re going to live with me until he returns the money.” Bucky wasn’t a monster. As annoyed as the woman was making him, he had no intentions of hurting her. He simply wanted to lure Edmund, her husband, to him by using Y/N as bait.

“Wait, seriously?” Y/N realised she might have come off a little excited because Bucky raised an eyebrow at her, his men exchanging glances in shock. “You’re— happy about that?” Bucky asked, bewildered. “No I’m not,” she muttered, clearly lying. Bucky shook his head, deciding to let it go. Surely she was so… scared and traumatised that she was acting bizarrely. It had to be that. “Okay… um, untie her, I’m taking her to her room.”

Two of his men stepped forward and untied her hands and legs. Bucky expected her to kick and scream upon being untied but instead, she simply stood up, dusting her clothes. “My room, sir?” Bucky stammered incoherently. “Uh, sure,” he ended up mumbling, leading her into the mansion whose garage they were in. He kept alert; maybe once away from the guards she would act up. “Intelligent,” he thought.

But even when they were away from all the guards, just the two of them, Y/N kept demurely following him, looking up at the mansion. “Wow,” she whistled, “This is your house? It’s pretty solid, dude.” Bucky stopped in his tracks, turning to face her. “Okay, what stupid fucking game are you playing with me right now?! You really think I’m that dumb, Mrs Silverstein? You think I don’t know what you’re doing?! Playing nice until you get a chance to run back to your husband?!” 

This time, she did end up flinching at Edmund’s mention. Bucky noticed and paused, his brows furrowing in suspicion. “I don’t— I’m not playing any games. Look—” She rummaged through all her clothing. “I don’t have any weapons on me and plus my hands are recovering from injuries, so I’m not even strong enough to kill someone like you. Have you looked at yourself? You think I will be able to hurt you?” Bucky released a breath.

An awkward silence fell between them. “What are your hands recovering from?” he finally ended up asking as they commenced their walk. “Broke my bones in both hands, just a little accident, heh,” Y/N chuckled, rubbing the back of her neck. A few more minutes passed. He glanced at her. She was looking at the decoration around the house, lips pursed, as if she was about to burst into tears.

And without thinking, he asked the one question a kidnapper never asks their victim.

“Are you okay?”

A teardrop leaked down Y/N’s eye and she hurriedly wiped it off, clearing her throat. “Yeah.” What the fuck was her deal? They soon stopped outside a bedroom; Bucky opened the door, revealing— “This is the most beautiful room I’ve ever seen!” Y/N gasped, awed. The colour scheme was pretty, there was an attached bathroom and also a balcony! "This makes my architect heart really happy."

"You're an architect?" Bucky couldn't help but ask again. "I was, before I got married. Edmund didn't like that I worked, he then started keeping me at home," she revealed. Bucky found himself getting annoyed again but this time not by Y/N, by Edmund. "Well, uh, you've seen everything. Spare clothes are in the wardrobe, um, the shower has clean water if you want to clean up… there's facewash and body wash in the bathroom and also toothpaste and a toothbrush."

"Aren't you, like, my kidnapper? Why such nice treatment?" Y/N wondered. "I have no personal vendetta against you, I'm after your husband. And I'm using you as bait. So don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you. That's how my mob functions." A smile bloomed on her face. "That's a nice way to function. Uh, I'll see you then, Mr Barnes." Bucky licked his dry lips. "Yeah, s-see you."

He left her room, closing the door behind him. But he simply stood there, his thoughts racing. The way she wasn't upset that she was kidnapped, the way she flinched earlier when he mentioned her husband, and how sad she looked when she told him her husband didn't allow her to work after they got married. All the proof was there— She disliked him. Y/N disliked Edmund. But was there more to it?

Was she only upset about her job, or maybe something more? Bucky shook his head, heading to his own room. Now that he knew, her previous behaviour didn't seem so… annoying anymore. 

-

The next morning, Bucky woke up with Y/N on his mind. Immediately upon getting out of bed, he rushed to Y/N's room, pausing before knocking. When she didn't open the door, his nose scrunched and he pushed the door open, freezing when he saw her naked in the middle of the room, a pair of his shorts in her hands. The spare clothes he'd given her. Y/N froze as well, the water from her wet hair dripping on the floor. She had just finished taking a shower. 5 uncomfortable minutes later, both of them snapped out of it.

Bucky was staring at her body. "My men didn't raise a finger on you," he whispered as she hurriedly covered herself with her towel. "Mr Barnes—" He entered the room, slamming the door shut behind him as he closed the distance between them. "I told them not to. Then what is this?" Her body was covered in scars big and small, and also healing bruises. Some that looked an angry red, some black and blue, while the almost healed ones looked yellow-green.

Her arms, her legs, her torso… except her face. Every body part was injured. "Y-Your men didn't do it," Y/N quietly assured him, avoiding eye contact. Bucky's chest heaved with anger. "Then who?" Y/N gulped in fear. "E-Edmund did." Bucky was hoping it wouldn't be the answer. "I fucking knew it," he growled, "I suspected it last night—" He stopped when Y/N touched his arm. "L-Let me get ready?" He left the room on her insistence.

Blood boiling, he stormed into the dining room, startling the housekeeping staff as he sat on a chair, glaring at the innocent table in front of him. He didn't think Edmund would be able to anger him more than when he stole Bucky’s money but apparently knowing that he abused his wife too did the trick. Maybe it was the way Edmund’s behaviour reminded him of his own father— that was a can of worms for another day.

He turned towards the door when he heard footsteps behind him. Y/N had just walked in, wearing a grey t-shirt that was too big on her as well the pair of shorts he’d seen previously. She silently sat in front of him, her head hanging low. “The broken bones, that was him, no?” A beat passed and she nodded. Bucky was so furious now he couldn’t speak; they ended up having breakfast without speaking to one another. Afterwards, Bucky sent Y/N back to her room.

The hours began passing. When Y/N noticed that the sun was about to set, her stomach hungrily growling being the thing that snapped her out of her trance, she wondered if she would be let out of the room and given some food. Turns out she didn’t have to wait for an answer— just as the thought passed through her head, the door opened and Bucky walked in, tongue in cheek.

“I’m back home.” Y/N didn’t know he’d left. “Did you… did you have lunch? I forgot to remind the housekeeping staff to give you lunch.” She shook her head no. “I’ve been here the whole day.” His face showed… remorse? An apologetic look crossed his face. “C-Come downstairs to eat something now.” Without a complaint, she got off the bed and followed him towards the dining room. On the dining table was a big plate of cut-up fruits.

Bucky beckoned her to have the first bite. Like in the morning, they sat quiet, until Bucky spoke first. “I called… Edmund today.” Her gaze lifted from the fruits to his face. “What did he say?” she whispered, somewhat dreading the answer. “I asked for a huge ransom, basically something along the lines of what he stole from me. He said… It'll take time. He also threatened me.” This time a chuckle escaped his lips. “If you do anything to my wife, I swear,” he mimicked, causing Y/N to laugh as well.

“Bold coming from him,” she sighed, a tiny smile showing on her face. The mood dimmed again— as “fun” as the conversation was, they weren’t… friends. Y/N was still his victim, Bucky still her kidnapper. There were boundaries they knew they couldn’t cross. But still, there was something…

After finishing the fruit, Bucky took her back to her room. “I’ll see you at dinner,” he cleared his throat, poking his tongue in his cheek again. Y/N pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, clasping her hands as she swayed back and forth on her toes and heels. She was about to speak when Bucky began walking away, thinking the conversation was done.

She only stared after him.

-

The days began passing quicker. In what felt like a mere minute, a week passed since Y/N's kidnapping. There was still no sign of Edmund, and Bucky was getting impatient. Impatient not because of money, impatient because Y/N was growing on him. He’d started finding her and her mannerisms tolerable and dare he say it— cute. He had started finding her adorable.

Her hair, her eyes, her nose, her lips, her figure— the figure he’d seen all of before. Y/N was pretty, no doubt, but Bucky mentally hit himself with an imaginary stick every time she was around. He couldn’t possibly think his victim, another man’s wife, was beautiful. But there was no doubt about the fact. Bucky was steadily falling.

Unbeknownst to him, so was she. As little time as they spent with each other, Y/N found herself eagerly awaiting the next time she could see him. She found herself admiring his looks when he wasn’t looking. His steely blue eyes, his long brown hair, his stubble, his physique— the upper part of which she had managed to catch a glimpse of one time— him. She admired him.

Not to mention the fact he treated her way, way better than Edmund ever did. Always gave her food and water, checked on her from time to time, and gave her good living conditions. This was much less a kidnapping and much more a vacation of sorts. The only difference being? While Bucky actively hated himself for falling for her, Y/N didn’t mind in the slightest.

If anything, she had subconsciously begun to pamper herself, as well as she could, so Bucky would notice. He gave her a reason to distance her thoughts from her husband; when they got married, and when the abuse began, she used to think no one else could like her, and the fact that Edmund was still willing to keep her as his wife— she should accept that. But the previous week, she hardly ever thought of him.

She was staring out the window of her room when there was a knock on her door. Her hands flew up to flatten her hair as the door opened. Like she hoped, Bucky stood on the other side, wearing a black tank top and grey sweatpants. She blinked owlishly at him. “Come with me.” Y/N hurriedly got off the bed and waddled behind him. To her surprise, he began leading her out of the mansion.

Y/N hadn’t been out of the house since the first night. Dread filled her mind— was Edmund here to pick her up? Instinctively she stopped in her tracks, her eyes filling with tears as she grabbed Bucky’s arm, stopping him as well. He whirled around, startled to see her crying. “Wh-What happened, why are you crying?” A choked sob escaped her lips as she shook her head.

“He’s here, isn’t he? P-Please don’t hand me over to him, please,” she croaked. Before Bucky could speak she piped up again. “Just kill me— I b-beg, Mr Barnes, please!” Another sob left her lips and Bucky felt his resolve breaking. Somehow freeing his arm from her grasp, he walked towards her and hugged her tight, holding her close to his chest. “Shh,” he whispered, rubbing her back.

Y/N slowly stopped crying, her fists clutching the back of his tank top. Bucky rested his chin on her head, one arm wrapped tight around her waist as the other continued to rub her back, helping to even out her breathing. His resolve cracked fully— no, Edmund was not getting her back. “He’s not here,” he assured her quietly, “I promise.” She finally calmed down.

“Then where are you taking me?” The way her voice had become so tiny suddenly… Bucky wanted to hit himself for unnecessarily scaring her. “For a walk. I-I thought we— I mean you, should take a walk in the garden for some… fresh air. And I’ll come along… to keep an eye on you,” he stammered. A second passed and she nodded. “I’d like that.” He internally heaved a sigh of relief and they began walking to the mansion’s garden again— this time holding hands.

Y/N was so shaken up and frightened that she refused to let go of Bucky’s hand. Each time he tried pulling away, she whined and held his hand tighter. “Y/N.” Hearing his stern tone, she reluctantly let go of his hand, only to be surprised as he draped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into him. They fell quiet. After spending an hour outside, Bucky noticed it was dinnertime. 

They had dinner. And then it was time for Y/N to go to her room again. Try as she might to fall asleep, she couldn’t. Each time she closed her eyes, Edmund’s face appeared in front of her, scaring her awake. Quivering, Y/N stood up, walking out of the room. She wanted to see Bucky. But she didn’t know where his room was. Sighing in defeat, she slid down in front of the door, sitting with her knees pulled to her chest. The bedroom felt too unsafe. 

What she didn’t know was that Bucky wasn’t in his room. He was in the living room, having a glass of whiskey. An hour would pass before he made his way upstairs; since Y/N’s room was nearer to the staircase than his own, he had to pass by in front of her room to go to his. And he was shocked to see her sitting outside, rather than inside. “Y/N?!” She looked up at him, pressing her lips shut to keep herself from crying in front of him again.

Also sighing in defeat and throwing his morals and ethics aside, he grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet. A gasp left her lips as Bucky pinned her against the wall. Her hands were held over her head, Bucky holding her wrists with one hand as the other rested on the wall right next to her waist. “Fuck you for being so adorable and perfect, honestly,” he mirthlessly laughed before pressing his lips to hers in a noisy, wet kiss. 

Y/N involuntarily moaned as the kiss got too overwhelming. Bucky, hearing that, grabbed her waist with his free hand and shifted closer to her, grinding his steadily hardening cock against her most sensitive area. “Mmh,” she breathed out. “Liking that, princess?” His hand let go of her wrists to take off the t-shirt she wore. When her breasts came into view, Bucky groaned. 

“Ungh, M-Mr Barnes, ah,” she whimpered when he bent forward, taking a nipple between his teeth as his hand toyed with the other one. “Fuck,” he hissed when she rolled her hips against his. Not wasting more time, he knelt in front of her and yanked her shorts down, the cool night air colliding with her wet cunt making her moan. Bucky smirked as he smeared some of her juices around with his fingers.

“So fucking wet for me,” he hummed, grabbing the back of her thighs before burying his face between them, lapping greedily at the juices. His nose rubbed against her clit; Y/N’s fingers curled in his hair, gently pulling him closer. Bucky didn’t even feel like coming up for air. She had the prettiest cunt he’d ever seen, and she tasted sweet, just like her personality. “Bu-Bucky, I’m gonna cum!” When he heard that he finally stopped and looked up at her.

Her face was flushed and her eyes were closed, her lips slightly parted as she rested her head against the wall, her chest heaving. That picture drilled itself into his head; he would never forget that look, how ethereal she looked as he made her fall apart on his tongue. “Cum for me, my love, you won’t be doing so for anyone else for a long, long time.” Hearing those words Y/N let go.

Bucky drank everything she offered. It was like an elixir to him. “So gorgeous, so delicious,” he whispered and stood up, holding her by the hips when her knees buckled. That orgasm had been her most powerful yet. Bucky definitely knew what he was doing. “Come.” He gently carried her in his arms bridal style, allowing her to rest as he took her to his room, kicking open the door with his foot.

Y/N passed out as soon as her head hit the pillow, but Bucky suspected she’d fallen asleep earlier than that, in his arms, rather. His cock was throbbing hard; lying down next to her, he lowered his pants and took his length in his hand, leisurely stroking it as he thought of Y/N— the look on her face. No matter if he got or didn’t get the money from Edmund, he wasn’t giving up on Y/N. She was his now, his to care for. His to fall for. 

He felt his orgasm coming. With a whisper of her name he let go, spurting hot, white liquid onto his thighs and hand. Bucky then cleaned himself and pulled his sweatpants up over his limp cock, turning on his side to envelope Y/N in his arms. She, still asleep, turned into him too, burying her face in his chest, curling into him.

For the first time since forever, a genuine smile bloomed on his face.

-

The next morning couldn't arrive sooner. Bucky woke up before Y/N, and when the previous night's memories resurfaced, one more smile tugged on his lips as he turned to look at the woman asleep next to him. Her lips were turned upwards, and he wondered what kind of a dream she was having. "Oh, Bucky," she suddenly whispered, humming as she turned to lay on her back, facing away from him. Bucky didn't contain his chuckle; the noise woke Y/N up and she blinked her eyes open.

"What was I doing in your dream?" he asked her in a whisper as soon as she gained her senses. "We were in a park eating ice-cream together," she sleepily whispered back, accepting his invite to snuggle closer to him. "But you moaned my name," he cheekily pointed out, "So what was I doing exactly?" At that her cheeks heated up. "I— I had some ice-cream on my lips and you—" She couldn't finish her sentence out of embarrassment. Bucky laughed quietly, trying not to ruin the serenity of the morning.

He leaned in and gave her a peck on the corner of her mouth. "I did that?" Squealing a little, she hit his shoulder and buried her face in his chest, hands covering her eyes. By then Bucky was smiling so wide, he thought his mouth was going to tear open. He wrapped his arms tight around her, holding her impossibly close as they simply lay there, basking in the quietness and bliss of the early morning sun's rays coming in through the closed, white curtains of the window.

Alas the bliss didn't last long; Bucky's phone began ringing, snapping them both out of their trance. Bucky reached for the night stand and grimaced when the Caller ID came into view. "Why him?" Y/N groaned as well, wrapping her arms around herself. "Yes, Silverstein? Do you finally have my money ready?" Bucky drawled, his arm snaking around Y/N's waist. "How is my wife? Is she alright? Let me talk to her!" Bucky glanced at Y/N.

"He wants to talk to you," he whispered to her and her eyes went wide. She tried saying no but Bucky had to be convincing one way or another. So she decided to help him. 

Taking the phone from his hand, Y/N held it to her ear. "Hello?" She heard Edmund's sighs of relief. Fake. "My love, are you okay? He hasn't hurt you, has he?" If by hurt you mean making me pass out by giving me a strong orgasm then yes, yes he hurt me. Badly. "No he hasn't." Edmund mumbled something on the other end. "Listen, I have the money ready, okay? I'm getting you back, I promise! You're mine, my wife, and I'll never let anyone hurt you."

"Then why are you the one hurting her, asshole?" Bucky muttered to himself, rolling his eyes. Y/N cracked a half-smile at his tone before clearing her throat. "Y-Yeah. So when are you… coming to pick me up?" Bucky snatched the phone from her hand. "I'll be there this evening, my love. I'll assure him that I've come alone, but I will bring some of my men— once I have you back, I'll have them attack him and we'll walk away with the money. You have to play along, hm?"

Bucky smirked. He held the phone away and covered the speakers, turning to Y/N. "Say okay, I'll see you in the evening." She nodded and Bucky gave her the phone. "I'll see you in the evening, okay," she told Edmund, who ended the call. Y/N kept the phone down on her bed, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her palms. "What did he say? He's coming in the evening?" Bucky laughed loudly, startling her.

"That's the thing! He thought he was still talking to you, so he told you this really elaborate plan that I wasn't supposed to hear. And now I'm one step ahead of him." Y/N laughed at his words too. "Really?! That's so awesome! Now you can plan accordingly, and take the money back!" 

He tugged on her hand to pull her close. "Take the money and keep you by my side." Y/N's cheeks flushed. "And that," she mumbled shyly. "Well, now that I know he's coming in the evening, there's still plenty of time that we have, you know…" Bucky hinted coyly, making her lie down on the bed and hovering above her, propped up by his arms. Y/N smirked and wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing him in for a kiss. "Show me what you got, then."

"Oh, trust me princess, I have a lot of tricks up my sleeve, let's see if by the end of it you can even walk."

-

a/n: thanks for reading, leave a like if you enjoyed!

[famemonsterrr]

Astrology observations part 3.🪽

- I have noticed that people who have mars in libra they don’t argue with people they love. Like they might have been hurt by someone and still act like nothing happened. A very forgiving mars but so passive aggressive.

- people with mercury in Taurus have beautiful and unique voices. Women tend to have deeper voices more than any other mercury.

- air placements especially moon and mercury tend to analyse their emotions to a point that they don’t feel anything.

- Leo moons might have been the kids who never got any attention from friend groups or family. So if you see people with this placement they are loud with their emotions or they tend to be celebrities to get the attention they never had.

- Pisces moon people look sleepy all the time.

- when a Leo moon finds a libra moon expect a strong relationship.

- Leo men are either traumatising or the best thing that can happened in ur life.

- Sagittarius and Pisces is a couple that works well or Sagittarius moon x Pisces moon. They both can be delusional in their own ways.💀

- if you want the attention of an Aquarius man. Think AGAIN. They are the most difficult men on the zodiac. Females tend to be more open and kind but yet hard to keep.

-On the other hand the most easiest man on the zodiac is a libra man

- the biggest givers of the zodiac are Leos. They would do anything for you🤌🏻

- libra placements are always fruity

- Aries mars is a placement that you wouldn’t want to piss off. They will call you out without carrying and maybe be a little hurtful. Now if they have other placements maybe they will be on the softer side but NEVER piss off an Aries mars with earth placements.

- Two Gemini dating and end up marrying each other isn’t the smart choice ever. Especially when they are young. Gemini tend to mature in old age especially men.

- Capricorn moon is something sad to have. Like they have this nonchalant vibe that might affect them in the future. Unless they have water placements.

- Virgo Venus are soooo pickyyyy. Annoyingly pickyyyy but they still manage to choose the worst. Y’all make me giggly.

- Aquarius man with Scorpio placements is a no no no.

- 8th house placements are a blessing or a curse.

But I have to add they are very charismatic and sexy people. They might have a difficult life and always reborn from the ashes. They born to survive no matter what.

- out of the whole zodiac CAPRICORNS are the most fashionable. Maybe not experimental or trendsetter but always on point. I have also noticed they don’t wear bright colours like a Leo would

- on the concept of fashion I would say Leo and Aquarius have bold style but in different style. Libra and Virgo are the girly pops.

- Leo risings are either all loud or really quiet.

That’s all🫶🏻

Thank u for reading and liking me content. Really greatful 🥰 and pliz my grammar isn’t the best sometimes so he kind to be. I’m trying 💀

Stay healthy and happy 🥰

[koji-haru]

Time Travel AU Part: 13

[I struggled writing this. Again! I feel like all this science stuff I'm doing again is draining my creativity 🥲]

It had only been one day since Eve’s banishment from Eden, and yet the angels were all already discussing the future of humanity, the garden and Adam himself. Adam was sat beside Michael in the circle of stressed angels, all too engaged in their debate. Adam wasn’t even initially supposed to present in this meeting, but apparently Michael, ever so thoughtful, suggested that the first man be involved in the discussion regarding his possible future. And Adam would appreciate the gesture if only he didn’t have to bear witness and suffer through Heaven’s bureaucracy. It was one of the few things he actually hated when he used to be an angel. The meeting began early in the morning and the afternoon was fast approaching, and yet they still haven’t broached the topic about Adam. 

Damn angels and their obsession with order. Adam could feel his eyes drooping, his head nodding off, the discussion a soothing background noise; boredom and exhaustion weighed heavily on him. Beside him, Michael noticed Adam’s quickly slipping attention. Humans after all, didn’t have the same stamina and durability that angels had.

“Pardon me, I’m sure these are all very important, but can we get to the topic about Adam? It’s why he’s here to begin with,” Michael gestured towards the sleepy human. “We can continue the discussion about the others after this.”

Seeing Adam’s drained figure, the angels all agreed to pause their current discussion for later and put away their current notes, switching them for ones related to the new topic. As usual, Sera was the one to start the dialogue. With a clap of her hands, the attention focused back on her as she began to talk.

“Alright. Following Eve’s banishment from the garden of Eden, we were faced with a problem regarding their propagation. Eve’s new companion, who will be created using a part of her, will be made in the following days.” Sera placed both of her hands on the table as she looked at Adam. “Adam, you are now without a companion. We planned on creating a new companion for you but…” She glanced at Michael. “Michael had suggested we consult you first. He mentioned something about your possibly…troubled state.”

A new partner for him in Eden? Someone untainted by the fruit of knowledge? While the idea of being with someone, who was also safe and away from both Lucifer and Lilith, didn’t seem so bad, it was also someone new. Someone Adam would know nothing about, meaning another unpredictable factor. Who knows, maybe this new person would be similar to Eve or they could also turn out to be like Lilith. Either way, they would be an unknown factor. And after finally securing Eden for himself, he didn’t want to add more potential risks, especially not when he was already in uncharted territory. That and, well, the idea of opening up to someone like that again hadn’t crossed his mind for over many millennia now, and he sure wasn’t going to start again.

Adam adjusted himself on his seat, carefully thinking about the words he would say and the emotions he should express in front of the angels. With downcast eyes he answered, “I…after Eve…I don’t think I could ever be ready to be with someone new again.” Adam let a few tears slide down his cheeks, a little sniffle here and there, maybe some subtle trembling. Really, anything to gain the angels’ sympathy and pity. 

The sight of Adam seemingly in anguish over Eve’s betrayal and absence crushed many of the angels’ hearts. How pitiful. For such a delicate creature to experience such a horrible tragedy. They couldn’t imagine the scars that such events had placed on his little heart. God’s most perfect creation, traumatised under the clutches of Lucifer and Lilith. Sera placed a hand over her own heart, clearly affected by Adam’s act. “Adam, are you certain you don’t wish for a new partner?”

Adam meekly shook his head. “I think I’ve had enough.”

—-

The late afternoon sun’s gradually cooling rays shone over the serenity of the garden, coating everything in its soft orange hue. Adam leaned back against a tree as he watched the other inhabitants of the garden prepare for the incoming darkness. It was a bit odd. To have all of the garden to himself in peaceful silence. He had gotten used to a high pitched voice that used to always eagerly drag him along the garden in search of new things to try out. It was about this time of the day when he would join Eve, along with Amora, to gather tonight’s dinner. Adam felt a heavy nudge on his shoulder, and was greeted with large yellow eyes when he turned. 

“Guess it’s just you and me now, huh?,” muttered Adam as he allowed the big cat to lay its head on his lap. “What? Are you trying to comfort me?,” he chuckled. His fingers lazily petted the jaguar’s soft fur, the warmth a welcome presence in Eden’s gradually cooling air. 

Now what? Adam had achieved what he wanted, and of course he was happy that could stay in Eden away from both Lilith and Lucifer, he was also happy not to have to suffer a harsh life outside the garden. But he also couldn’t help but be a little anxious about the future. This was where things would start to really change, and while he was confident in himself, he could still only hope that this future he had carved for himself would be better than the one he had previously.

A familiar flapping of three pairs of wings interrupted Adam’s musings. He knew the owner of those wings. Only he would visit the first man in the garden at such a time. Adam turned to face the angel; a knowing look and a silent nod for a greeting. It seemed suitable enough for the late afternoon’s current undertone. 

Michael found himself a spot beside the first man, close but not too close. The two sat in comfortable silence, simply enjoying the sinking sun as it tinted everything in orange, before the angel uttered a word. “About your decision earlier… Are you certain with what you’ve decided?”

Adam kept his gaze on the horizon, his figure drowning in the sinking rays as it painted him all over like melting gold in a hot furnace. “I’m certain,” he uttered. 

It was one of the few things he was certain of in his newly carved future. He had lived for 10,000 years, and not once did he ever need it. There were some similar things, like his relationship with his exorcists. Each and every one of his girls were dear to him, even that traitorous Vaggie used to have a spot in his heart. Then there was Lute, who he had doted on the most. And while all of those ties were real in their own right, none of them were ever introduced to the cavernous depths of his soul. After living for so long, he realised he didn’t need it, or maybe it simply just wasn’t meant for him. That was fine for him, it was less messy that way, and he intended to keep things neat in this life too.

“But won’t you feel lonely?,” Michael asked. “Being the only one… of your kind I mean.”

Though the words were directed at Adam, Michael’s wistful gaze divulged another story. Even ever since his body was formed from stardust and golden ichor first flowed throughout his body, Michael always hadn’t been the most sociable angel. He got along fine with the rest, but there was always a disconnect. Lucifer’s fall seemed to have resulted in only widening that gap, with others seemingly keeping their distance on purpose after knowing what he was capable of. He supposed that was to be expected, he was, after all, the only angel in Heaven who had the blood of his own kin in his hands. True, he had no choice in the matter, it couldn’t be helped, but the others also couldn’t help what they felt.

Adam mulled over Michael’s words. He wasn’t sure if he would call it loneliness, but being the only person in the garden did make him feel isolated at times. Though he supposed it wasn’t really that bad. He looked back down at Amora who was snuggling on his lap, a content look on her furry face. The slow rise and fall of her chest, the warmth from her large body that she happily shared with him. Adam may be very different from the rest of Eden’s inhabitants, but he felt very welcomed and at home all the same. 

“It’s not so bad,” Adam answered, a faint smile on his lips as he brushed Amora’s fur. “I’ve got the animals with me. They never let me feel lonely. And then there’s also you.”

“And that’s enough for you?”

“I’m just happy to have a home.” Adam would want for more. He had always yearned for more, to learn and experience more new things. It was why he invented so many things. From useless decorative items to important life saving techniques. In fact, one of the reasons he proposed the exterminations, besides wanting to fuck with Lucifer and Lilith, was to escape the monotony of Heaven. The exterminations allowed him to experience new things; sinners with their grotesque forms, hellish food that could kill you in a variety of ways, a chaotic society that easily shifted day by day. It was fun, plain and simple, but it was also a wandering kind of fun. If fun new things meant he would lose paradise, his home, then he would rather not take it. Dying and waking back up in Eden made him realise how he lived like a wanderer in his previous life. Moving from place to place in search of something different, but never truly having a permanent place for himself. He would have to learn to hold back some of his inclinations and unnecessary wants this time, now that he got a hold of his home back. Having a place to belong far outweighed ‘the fun stuff’. Besides, Eden was fun in its own right. It had all kinds of animals that would happily play with him despite being deadly if they were outside the garden, the garden itself was big enough to contain various landscapes from rainforests to open deserts, and most importantly, it didn’t have other people who would ruin his day, at least not anymore anyway.

There was this inexplicable look in Adam’s eyes when he answered Michael’s question. Like a wistful longing; something akin to nostalgia, like he was holding something dear that he had only found again. Just at this moment, with the sinking sun reflecting on his already golden eyes, Michael saw in Adam, just an inkling, what seemed to be an eternity of life and experience. It was surreal, it was as if there was a whole other world within the human unbeknownst to anyone but the man himself, though he knew it couldn’t be possible. So instead, he turned his gaze back to the slowly fading sun. 

What was home?

The archangel, of course, had Heaven, the place he first woke up in, the place he had spent the most time in, and the place he always returned to. Though with the recent events, that place had become a little less comforting, a little more alienating. It was still the same but also different. It was like Lucifer had never fallen, but the void of his absence permeated the atmosphere. Heaven had become uncomfortable. But Eden remained a simple comfort. Michael wrapped his wings around himself. The garden was still here and so were the animals. Then there was also Adam. Maybe that was also enough for him.

Part 12

Part 14

[blughxreader]

Damn, the "re-connection session" one-shot was an extremely heavy read in a way I never expected. I’m fully aware that your requests are closed but just wanted to ask; how would Dick and Jason deal with a traumatised omega reader? Someone who gave in to the hormones but once the effect blew over the weight of what happened set in and hit them like a truck, as they re-lived metres of being undressed and touched without their consent, which mimicked a borderline assault?

I'm blown away by the response for this fic omg <3 Thank u to everyone who left comments like this lol. "HORRID. SICK TO MY STOMACH. WILL TATTOO ON MY BODY." yall are the best

As for your questions...

We're all aware of normal trauma responses (mental breakdowns, you could throw up at the smell of Alfred's soup, blocking the memory entirely, throwing yourself into distractions), but ABO has a primal element...

Y'know how women who give birth release this brain chemical that makes them love their baby so it overrides the terror of pregnancy??

Yeah. Maybe finally joining the pack physically/emotionally releases that same chemical.

You're not a slave to your body, but it definitely takes the edge off of a horrific incident. I think you'd 1000% remember it forever and have some level of bitterness and ick about it, but sometimes it's easier to accept things you can't change.

From everyone's perspective, why should you harbor so much hatred when an easy life of love and safety is at your fingertips if you'd just forget a little incident?

It's up to the you tho.

Dick fully stands by his decision unless you try to like, kill yourself. He's used to making hard decisions, and while he'd upset at the circumstances, he feels it was the last solution. Everything else failed, so how we do things the uncomfortable way.

Jason will always feel shitty about it. He's a romantic, and the fact that your entrance into the pack was by force will forever sit heavy on him. If Dick's confidence had faltered even a little during that one-shot, then Jason would have called it off immediately.

Life would carry on normally, save for everyone watching you for any behavioral changes. Dick and Jason would accept your furious anger / sadness with understanding remorse, then would comfort you in their own ways.

Movie night? Your favorite food? Want to sit with Alfred and I in the library? Hey, maybe we can convince Bruce to let us all go to his beach house for a weekend?

And if you stop reacting all together, then they'd take the indication to cozy on up to you again. Fight back and show some emotion, orrrr sit with one of their arm's over your shoulder and let the hormones do their job.

You'll run out of fight eventually, then Bruce will start working on your trauma. At that point, the pack's already got a hold on you mentally so you begrudge them some leeway.

Small privileges here and there (sitting with your thighs touching, holding someone's hand, sleeping in the same bed), until it becomes a slippery addiction.

[reiderwriter]

discard this request if it isnt your style but it might be funny

bdsm and kink culture reader with vanilla spencer. r is being super 🌶 and spencer is not understanding (maybe r teaches him and he gets really into it)

Vanilla Spencer is so fucking funny to me, because given the chance this man could have the most fucked up sexual habits of anyone in the BAU but he also seems like the type of guy who would be like "idk people get murdered with shit like this" you know 😭 anyway, here's the fic, hope you enjoy, anon!

Summary: You want to spice up your bedroom activities with Spencer, but he's just not getting it.

Warnings: BDSM themes, vanilla! Spencer into soft! Dom Spencer, mentions of spanking, some dry humping, dirty talk, daddy kink mentioned. 18+ MINORS DNI

Here's my masterlist and my requests are open!

“Oh, what are you gonna do about it? Gonna spank me?”

“Actually, no study has found physical punishment to have a long-term positive effect, and most studies have found negative effects, with children who undergo physical punishment found to grow up to be more aggressive adults.”

You really weren’t sure what you were expecting from your boyfriend.

So far your sex life together had been pretty vanilla. He was an absolute gentleman, making sure to gain your consent everytime he tried something new. He was soft and sweet, and quite honestly, one of the best you’d had in your life because of how attentive he was to your body language.

But recently, you’d been aching for something a little more interesting, to say the least.

“Oh but I’ve been such a bad little girl.” You try again, hoping that he gets the idea this time.

“You shouldn’t think like that, baby, you know you’re doing a great job at work, and if there’s anything you’re struggling with, we can talk it through, okay?” You want to rip your hair out in frustration.

“No, god, Spencer, I want…” you let out a groan and pick yourself up from your chair, choosing instead to climb into his lap and make it more obvious.

“Do you remember that case we took two weeks back? All the couples had some pretty interesting private lives?” You wrapped your hands around his neck and started grinding down on his lap, hopeful that he’d get the idea.

“The family annihilator that went after couples engaging in the BDSM lifestyle? The one who was so traumatised by the discovery of his parents hobbies that he started murdering couples with families that looked like his own?” He still seemed a little confused but he grabbed your hips, aware of the direction this was heading in, at least.

“Heinous murderer aside, were you not at all intrigued by some of the research we had to do?” You pushed your hips down into his again and again, but now you could feel his reciprocation from beneath his slacks.

“Are you talking about the japanese rope bondage, or the dog leashes, specifically?” Spencer teased you, as his hands started trailing up and down your back.

“Spencer don’t tease….”

“No, I’m really curious, what was it that you wanted me to do first?” Spencer was smirking now, and whilst you were happy he was finally picking up what you were putting down, you weren’t exactly excited to have to voice your needs.

“I want you to….I want you to, ummm…..” Your mind was going blank now, because one of Spencer’s hands was now under your skirt drawing small circles, moving closer and closer to your centre.

“Oh that's right, you wanted me to spank you, right baby?” You couldn’t hold back the moan as you felt him finally touch you where you needed him.

“Oh, you like that idea, do you? Want me to throw you over my lap and ruin your nice little ass until you can barely sit.” You were grinding desperately into his fingers now, wishing that he’d make the final move and push your panties aside.

“Use your voice, baby, you know we can’t go any further unless I hear you say what you want.”

“Fuck, fuck, touch me, fucking touch me now.”

“How about we try saying that a little bit nicer this time?” He makes to move his hand away and you whimper - you actually fucking whimper - at the loss of contact, obviously enjoying this a little bit more than you thought you were.

So you partially blamed your unconscious need for him on the next set of words to escape your mouth.

“Fuck me, daddy.”

His hands stilled completely and your eyes shot open, immediatley looking into his darkened ones.

“What did you just call me?” You felt his hips shift under yours and knew you finally fully had him.

“I called you daddy.” You whispered, your lips moving closer and closer to his, practically begging for some more attention.

Instead, he pushed you off him, and you fell unceremoniously onto the floor while he stood and straightened his clothes.

“I want you on the bed, ass up and legs spread for me. What kind of daddy would I be if I denied my little girl, right?” he smirked down at you.

It was going to be a fun night.

[missmarveledsblog]

A KIND OF SEX EDUCATION ( PART THREE) ( PLATONIC Cas , winchesters x reader)

SUMMARY : Cas finds onlyfans , all it not what it seems though

warning : its just pure crack and fun

Turns out even as traumatising as the last time of cas curiosities didn’t actually have too bad of out come and as much as she had hated to admit dean was right about them dating . although never in the bunker was it peaceful for too long . turns out bobby was her dad and she learned new thing about her parents no child should ever learn …ever. 

Something else was different too every night at 8 pm cas would disappear off into his room even when on hunt he would head off some where always at 8pm , of course they were curious  but after last few ordeal with the angel well the curiosity was just not enough to investigate . well until ..

“ i am in love and i think it time i brought her here” he said  completely out of the blue . 

“ you have a girlfriend good job buddy … don’t show her your internet history though” dean snorted only for y/n to slap him in back of the head. 

“ she’s real right?” sam asked needing clarifications after poor guy fell for an A.i bot . 

“ she’s very real we talk every night at 8pm . 

“ that’s great cas maybe we can go for a double date sometime “ y/n beamed more for the fact it probably the most normal interaction she had with the angel in what felt forever . 

“ i shall ask her although she said friends cost extra” he said heading off to his room as they all shared a look. 

“ who the hell is spending 500 dollars a night on …” bobby called. 

“ you go in i’m not going in , i’m always the one here for this shit” she argued as three stood out his door. 

“ oh for fuck sake  i’m moving out” she whined. 

......

“ you’re nicer though he listens to you and better than him he’ll break his heart” sam reasoned . 

“ why aren’t you in the equations” she scoffed. 

“ i don’t want to deal with it to be honest” sam huffed. 

“ how about we all go talk to him i mean plus lets see what she like she could be nice gal for all we know” dean grinned. 

“ do you like having a girlfriend” she glared . 

“ point taken you should take this one” he smiled pushing her into the room. 

“ another tip from my angel any requests” the voice called as y/n was ready to burst into tears thinking maybe wifi in the bunker was over rated.

“ hey cas i need to erm talk to you it’s urgent” . 

“ why are you're eyes covered if its urgent” she could already picture his tilted head and confused face but she was afraid just incase his little saint was out awaiting . “ i got to go my love i will come back tomorrow” he called as silence filled the room god this was going to like shooting bambi’s mother. 

“ he’s dressed sweetheart” was all dean voice said echoing down the  hall. 

“ oh thank fuck , hey buddy can we talk” she asked softly and wishing she was well anywhere else. 

“ of course it is urgent” he nodded. 

“ jesus how do i go about this?” she sighed rubbing her temples. 

“ are you pregnant? I noticed the little weight but i didn’t want to mention it” he looked down at her stomach. 

“ getting less hard , no i’m not pregnant may need to go on a diet though… nevermind cas whats your loves name?” she shook her head staying on point albeit less confident then before .

“Angel lady six nine” he beamed proudly . 

“ oh you poor sap it’s sixty nine  not the the point cas have you talk with her like in person or …” . 

“ on only fans gabriel sent me the link said it was a website for meeting exciting women and now i met my love and she makes me so happy … and it make my hands want to do the thing i see ” he smiled . 

“ well i’m glad, good chatting buddy” she backed out the room definitely not the one to be dealing with this . 

So now here sam was while dean was telling y/n she wasn’t fat.  He could do it rip the bandaid off but provide some sort of comfort maybe bring him somewhere to meet real woman that wouldn’t send them to the poor house. 

“ hey cas can we talk” he smiled awkwardly seeing the angel eyes locked on screen .

“ of course it seems as everyone wants to do that tonight” he place it down as sam caught a glimpse of the page he was on . 

“ your love isn’t well actually love” he cut to the point . 

“ why not she tells me all the time” his head tilted like a confused puppy. 

“ that’s cause you give her five hundred dollars a night i mean she call you king of the world for that sort of money” . 

“ she shows me her things like…” he began to explain. 

“ i don’t need to know that .. but she not really in love with you buddy just the money you give her?” sam asked watching his reaction seeing the cogs turn in the mans head. 

“  i don’t get it” he finally said. 

“ ok… goodnight” sam huffed walking out as dean stormed  . 

“ hello dean” cas smiled. 

“ ok buddy you're dating a prostitute electronically needs to stop or we can’t buy pie so stop wasting the money online great talk buddy” he shut the door as the other two watched him walk off in victory . 

“ nothing wrong with earning money like that woman power ,  just not ours cas” y/n winced at her boyfriends way with words following after. 

They sat worried as cas never showed up for breakfast  , y/n even checked to see his room empty to which sam said to give him space. 

“ jesus your right that was like shooting bambi” sam called heading in the same direction. 

......

“ but what if we made him run away” she pouted. 

“ he’s literally older than all of us and an angel” dean shrugged. 

“ but he’s a baby in a trench coat you say it all time” she pointed out . 

“ the kitchen is through here , would you like a drink” the voice called out. 

“ oh water is fine” a female voice replied as the two appeared making them not only drop their jaws but whatever was in their face as the woman followed behind. 

“ is that…” she whispered. 

“ the hook..OWW” Dean yelled as y/n kicked him . 

“This my love  angel , angel these are my friends who think your a hooker”  cas said as sam choked on his drink.

“We don’t think your a hooker” y/n smiled weakly . 

“ actually we do  onlyfans means one thing … not that i would know i’ve never seen it before” dean corrected himself as his girlfriend glared. 

“ you know people do other things on onlyfans not only sexwork right “ angel crossed her arms. 

“ come on angel sixty nine” dean scoffed. 

“ six point nine my birthday is the 9th of june” she answered.

“ look we don’t slut shame but you make his hands wanna move” sam pointed out . 

“ to teach him to draw” she gasped .

 “ five hundred dollars to paint really cas” bobby walked in. 

“ he doesn’t pay me a dollar” angel pointed out . 

“ where our money going then” y/n brow furrow. 

“ wait that’s real money i though it was pretend money” jack walked in with his tablet showing them the gambling site he was on . 

“Wait so she's not a hooker” dean asked confused. . 

“ sorry angel” the called in unison .

" we're getting rid of the wifi i can't be dealing with this shit" y/n called heading out the room .

@pizzagirlxnsfwx hope you enjoy part three :)

[theghostofpyke]

A week of Theon: Truth or Lies

As an frequent reader of Theon escape & recovery fic, I'm aware that a recurring fantasy in fandom and fanfic goes something like this: Robb, Jon, "the Starks", or another main character knew that Theon 'vanished', maybe even that he's held captive by Bolton. They are very angry at Theon for what he did, but when they find out about the torture, they are horrified. Maybe they are spurred into action to help or protect Theon.

I much understand the id-appeal of these types of stories. However, this is, of course, not the story we are told in the books. Personally, the story in the books makes me even more emotional. So for the prompt: "True and Lies" let's look at the truth of who knew about Theon's torture, and what it meant to them:

🐺 Jon 🔥

Jon has been in the know that Theon is being tortured by Ramsay Bolton, specifically flayed, since A Storm Of Swords:

“Jon,” said Maester Aemon, “much and more happened while you were away, and little of it good. Balon Greyjoy has crowned himself again and sent his longships against the north. Kings sprout like weeds at every hand and we have sent appeals to all of them, yet none will come. They have more pressing uses for their swords, and we are far off and forgotten. And Winterfell . . . Jon, be strong . . . Winterfell is no more . . .” “No more?” Jon stared at Aemon’s white eyes and wrinkled face. “My brothers are at Winterfell. Bran and Rickon . . .” The maester touched his brow. “I am so very sorry, Jon. Your brothers died at the command of Theon Greyjoy, after he took Winterfell in his father’s name. When your father’s bannermen threatened to retake it, he put the castle to the torch.” “Your brothers were avenged,” Grenn said. “Bolton’s son killed all the ironmen, and it’s said he’s flaying Theon Greyjoy inch by inch for what he did.” “I’m sorry, Jon.” Pyp squeezed his shoulder. “We are all.” Jon had never liked Theon Greyjoy, but he had been their father’s ward. Another spasm of pain twisted up his leg, and the next he knew he was flat on his back again. “There’s some mistake,” he insisted. “At Queenscrown I saw a direwolf, a grey direwolf . . . grey . . . it knew me.” If Bran was dead, could some part of him live on in his wolf, as Orell lived within his eagle? “Drink this.” Grenn held a cup to his lips. Jon drank. His head was full of wolves and eagles, the sound of his brothers’ laughter. The faces above him began to blur and fade. They can’t be dead. Theon would never do that. And Winterfell . . . grey granite, oak and iron, crows wheeling around the towers, steam rising off the hot pools in the godswood, the stone kings sitting on their thrones . . . how could Winterfell be gone?

In this scene, injured, freshly back from his quite traumatising mission beyond the wall, Jon is quickly filled in by his comrades about what he missed: The fall of Winterfell, Bran and Rickon's murder, Theon's torture.

It's a lot to take in, and Jon reacts with doubt: His warg abilities make him suspect that Bran is still alive, his character judgement make him doubt that Theon would do such a thing. He's right on both counts, but in between everything else going on in his life he doesn't particularly find the time to reflect on it further.

Jon will briefly think of Theon in subsequent chapters: Channels the memory of Theon when using a bow. Mentions Theon when remembering Winterfell. In fact, nearly all of Jon's - few - thoughts about Theon will be in context of Winterfell's loss: Winterfell…. but it was torched by Theon, so it is no more :( Ser Rodrik….. but he was slain by Theon Turncloak. All my memories are poisoned :(

Theon's torture is not on his mind. Grenn told Jon of Theon's torture with the aim to comfort him: Your brothers were slain but they are being avenged! Jon is not particularly comforted, but nor is he disturbed. Jon has one and half books of thinking about what Winterfell means to him and about Bolton in the context of Arya (whom he thinks a lot about) to consider how Theon is faring and if this particular rumor is true; he doesn't. Theon's torture is a minor detail.

🐟 Catelyn 🐺

“Did Ramsay mention Theon Greyjoy?” Robb demanded. “Was he slain as well, or did he flee?” Roose Bolton removed a ragged strip of leather from the pouch at his belt. “My son sent this with his letter.” Ser Wendel turned his fat face away. Robin Flint and Smalljon Umber exchanged a look, and the Greatjon snorted like a bull. “Is that . . . skin?” said Robb. “The skin from the little finger of Theon Greyjoy’s left hand. My son is cruel, I confess it. And yet . . . what is a little skin, against the lives of two young princes? You were their mother, my lady. May I offer you this . . . small token of revenge?” Part of Catelyn wanted to clutch the grisly trophy to her heart, but she made herself resist. “Put it away. Please.” “Flaying Theon will not bring my brothers back,” Robb said. “I want his head, not his skin.” “He is Balon Greyjoy’s only living son,” Lord Bolton said softly, as if they had forgotten, “and now rightful King of the Iron Islands. A captive king has great value as a hostage.” “Hostage?” The word raised Catelyn’s hackles. Hostages were oft exchanged. “Lord Bolton, I hope you are not suggesting that we free the man who killed my sons.” “Whoever wins the Seastone Chair will want Theon Greyjoy dead,” Bolton pointed out. “Even in chains, he has a better claim than any of his uncles. Hold him, I say, and demand concessions from the ironborn as the price of his execution.” Robb considered that reluctantly, but in the end he nodded. “Yes. Very well. Keep him alive, then. For the present. Hold him secure at the Dreadfort till we’ve retaken the north.”

At the Twins, Roose tells all present - Catelyn, Robb, Wendel Manderly, Robin Flint, Smalljon Umber - of Theon's torture, bringing grisly proof: A piece of Theon's skin.

As Grenn did with Jon, the knowledge that Theon is being tortured is offered as comfort. Catelyn is comforted.

“Your first duty is to defend your own people, win back Winterfell, and hang Theon in a crow’s cage to die slowly. Or else put off that crown for good, Robb, for men will know that you are no true king at all.”

(Catelyn speaking to Robb)

When she said that, it felt as though a giant hand were squeezing her chest. “I want them all dead, Brienne. Theon Greyjoy first, then Jaime Lannister and Cersei and the Imp, every one, every one. But my girls . . . my girls will . . .”

(Catelyn speaking to Brienne)

Catelyn, who has been openly fantasising and demanding Theon's death and Theon's torture from the young warriors at her side (Brienne, Robb) in prior chapters, is actively opposed to Theon being helped, freed or rescued. The thought of Theon getting freed from Bolton's clutches is upsetting to her.

🐺 Robb ⚔️

In the same conversation, Robb learns of Theon's torture. He disapproves: Flaying Theon will not bring my brothers back. I want his head, not his skin.

He, however, also doesn't oppose it. He doesn't forbid it. He doesn't punch Roose in the face. He doesn't gather his men to hurriedly ride to the Dreadfort. He doesn't demand Ramsay's head. (I list a few fanfic scenarios, here).

When faced with sound tactical reasoning, Robb explicitly allows Theon's ongoing captivity at the hands of Ramsay. Even while knowing Ramsay is torturing Theon. Even with the information that Ramsay is in charge and Ramsay is "cruel" as per Roose's words.

Notably, Robb doesn't qualify his approval of Theon's ongoing captivity with something like: Very well, keep him alive and treat him well / stop torturing him / don't cut any more piece off him. It's just: Very well, keep him alive, for the present." Robb allows Theon's captivity to go on as is.

🪝 White Harbor🧜

Davos thought back on the tales they’d heard. “Winterfell was captured by Theon Greyjoy, who had once been Lord Stark’s ward. He had Stark’s two young sons put to death and mounted their heads above the castle walls. When the northmen came to oust him, he put the entire castle to sword, down to the last child, before he himself was slain by Lord Bolton’s bastard.” “Not slain,” said Glover. “Captured, and carried back to the Dreadfort. The Bastard has been flaying him.” Lord Wyman nodded. “The tale you tell is one we all have heard, as full of lies as a pudding’s full of raisins."

Just another example of how well-known the tale of Theon's captivity and torture is. Davos, Robett Glover and Manderly have been at different places at different times, but all of them have heard the same tale of Theon's flaying.

🦑 Asha 🪓

Asha Greyjoy was seated in Galbart Glover’s longhall drinking Galbart Glover’s wine when Galbart Glover’s maester brought the letter to her. “My lady.” The maester’s voice was anxious, as it always was when he spoke to her. “A bird from Barrowton.” He thrust the parchment at her as if he could not wait to be rid of it. It was tightly rolled and sealed with a button of hard pink wax. Barrowton. Asha tried to recall who ruled in Barrowton. Some northern lord, no friend of mine. And that seal … the Boltons of the Dreadfort went into battle beneath pink banners spattered with little drops of blood. It only stood to reason that they would use pink sealing wax as well. This is poison that I hold, she thought. I ought to burn it. Instead she cracked the seal. A scrap of leather fluttered down into her lap. When she read the dry brown words, her black mood grew blacker still. Dark wings, dark words. The ravens never brought glad tidings. The last message sent to Deepwood had been from Stannis Baratheon, demanding homage. This was worse. “The northmen have taken Moat Cailin.” “The Bastard of Bolton?” asked Qarl, beside her. “Ramsay Bolton, Lord of Winterfell, he signs himself. But there are other names as well.” Lady Dustin, Lady Cerwyn, and four Ryswells had appended their own signatures beneath his. Beside them was drawn a crude giant, the mark of some Umber. Those were done in maester’s ink, made of soot and coal tar, but the message above was scrawled in brown in a huge, spiky hand. It spoke of the fall of Moat Cailin, of the triumphant return of the Warden of the North to his domains, of a marriage soon to be made. The first words were, “I write this letter in the blood of ironmen,” the last, “I send you each a piece of prince. Linger in my lands, and share his fate.” Asha had believed her little brother dead. Better dead than this. The scrap of skin had fallen into her lap. She held it to the candle and watched the smoke curl up, until the last of it had been consumed and the flame was licking at her fingers. Galbart Glover’s maester hovered expectantly at her elbow. “There will be no answer,” she informed him.

I'll admit that the timelines are a bit confused to me, but it seems to me that Asha is one of the last of our named characters to learn about Theon's fate. Prior to this letter, she thought Theon dead.

We have several indications that the ironborn as a people and the Greyjoys as family have not been informed of Theon's captivity and survival, nor of his torture:

Before the priest could answer Gorold Goodbrother, the maester's mouth flapped open once again. "By rights the Seastone Chair belongs to Theon, or Asha if the prince is dead. That is the law."

Or Asha if the prince is dead. They don't know if he is. He might be.

They had spoken in the Sea Tower, as the wind howled outside the windows and the waves crashed restlessly below. Balon had shaken his head in despair when he heard what Aeron had to tell him of his last remaining son. "The wolves have made a weakling of him, as I feared," the king had said. "I pray god that they killed him, so he cannot stand in Asha's way."

Well, this is brutal, but clearly, Balon never knew what happened to Theon. Balon has many faults but this kind of sneaky dishonesty isn't one. Had he known about Theon's captivity and torture, he would not have claimed ignorance.

And Theon, if he lived, was just as hopeless, a boy of sulks and smiles. At Winterfell he proved his worth, such that it was, but the Crow's Eye was no crippled boy.

Aeron, too, is in the dark on whether Theon survived.

Only now do the ironborn receive letters telling them of Theon's situation. The letters don't aim to negotiate Theon's future, nor do they offer his death or release (understandable, as they are written by Ramsay, who wants to keep Theon for himself). They use Theon's fate as threat and show of force. This is happening to him, this could happen to you.

"Each of you" implies several such letters were sent. Asha. Dagmer would seem likely. Maybe some more along the Stony Shore? Unclear to me whether the Iron Islands proper (aka Euron or Erik Ironmaker who rules the Iron Islands as Euron's steward in his absence) have gotten a similar letter yes or no.

Asha is very affected by this letter. Most of this chapter she spends ruminating and reacting to her (lack of) options:

What does it matter? My father’s dead, my mother’s dying, my brother’s being flayed, and there’s naught that I can do about any of it.

But at least once it is implied she might have wanted to go rescue Theon, had she been able to.

She could turn merchanter, as Tris seemed to want, or else make for the Stepstones and join the pirates there. Or … “I send you each a piece of prince,” she muttered.

I read this as: Or… she could go find Theon.

She won't be able to, as immediately after, Deepwood Motte gets attacked and conquered by Stannis' forces and Asha taken prisoner.

She'll keep thinking of Theon and Theon's fate several times, in brief, vague memories tingued with guilt, often connected to her mother.

🩸Some Context 🩸

On the one hand, torture is normalised in the world these characters inhabit.

Manderly has a torturer. Stannis has a torturer. Jon Snow, some chapters prior, learned that Qhorin Halfhand had wildlings tortured. One of them Qhorin had tortured to death and "too quickly for him to be of much use". Jon is not upset by this and will come to respect Qhorin.

People get tortured for all sorts of reasons: To question them, to threaten others, to provide particularly gruesome deaths that leave an effect on enemies or allies (and so on).

On the other hand, there are some rules.

The flayed man was the sigil of House Bolton, Theon knew; ages past, certain of their lords had gone so far as to cloak themselves in the skins of dead enemies. A number of Starks had ended thus. Supposedly all that had stopped a thousand years ago, when the Boltons had bent their knees to Winterfell.

We learn, for instance, that the Boltons had to stop cloaking themselves in their enemies' skin when they bent the knee to Winterfell. It's somewhat unclear to me here if flaying as torture method at all was banned or "cloaking themselves in their enmies' skin" in specific.

After all, not only Joffrey but also the good Blackfish Tully throws threats of flaying people around, which would imply that flaying is not per se considered too abominable to consider.

“I mean,” said the Blackfish, “that you owe His Grace your thanks for his forbearance. He played out that mummer’s farce in the Great Hall so as not to shame you before your own people. Had it been me I would have flayed you for your stupidity rather than praising this folly of the fords.”

The Blackfish is not serious in this threat (probably) but think of violence you (your culture) would consider truly descipable. Would you, even unseriously, as "a good person", boast of doing this to someone?

The Bolton banner is considered abominable, though. There's a rumour about a room in the Dreadfort where the Boltons hang their enemies's skins deemed dreadful enough by at least the Stark children to be suspected to be "only one of Old Nan's stories"

"Gods, I was so scared. And the Greatjon’s not the worst of them, only the loudest. Lord Roose never says a word, he only looks at me, and all I can think of is that room they have in the Dreadfort, where the Boltons hang the skins of their enemies.” “That’s just one of Old Nan’s stories,” Bran said. A note of doubt crept into his voice. “Isn’t it?” “I don’t know.” He gave a weary shake of his head.

(Robb talking to Bran)

So flaying yay or nay is is a bit ambiguous to me, but

Roose himself calls Ramsay's treatment of Theon exceptionally "cruel"

Manderly & Co discuss Ramsay as extremely cruel abnomaly, and house Bolton as "cunning and cruel"

Barbrey Dustin reacts with horror to seeing Theon, which tells us that the way Ramsay treats his prisoner is considered beyond the realm of "normal", even in this brutal world, even by vengeful, vindictive women like Barbrey who do not shy away from a little cruelty

If we assume that flaying was in fact banned in the North, when Bolton spreads the word that Theon is being flayed by his Bastard, he's conducting a double PR-move:

One, rejoice in our mistreatment of the turncloak who destroyed Winterfell and Winterfell's heirs. (Invoking the memory of Stark to cement their power; "we are avenging Winterfell")

Two, we are flaying again, and don't you in fact like it? (Defying the memory of Stark to show that They are now in charge according to their Own rules. Stark might have banned flaying, but we flay. A power-move against the memory of Stark.)

What is being done to Theon is then something that "should not" be considered acceptable (this is no honourable way to treat prisoners; this is an exceptional and cruel mode of punishment; skinning your enemies is abominable; it was banned; this is not a regular hazard of going to battle and being a war prisoner) yet it is, because it speaks to people's desires and political needs that if it is done to Theon we will accept and even welcome it.

"Theon is secretly tortured" vs. "Theon is publicly tortured and the world approves" makes for two very different stories and very different narratives for Theon, as well.

There's no recuperation, here. There's no "if they had known they would have".

It is simply that Theon's mistreatment is the price that is being paid. To maintain or reinstate power in the North. To create order. To manage a story of heroes (us) and villains (them; vanquished, under our control, punished). This is true of Theon as a child taken hostage and it is true of Theon as young adult getting tortured.

The knowing of it is the point. For a surviving Theon, it means living in a world that approved of his captivity and a world that approved of his torture. I think that very compelling and if GRRM ever writes these books I look forward to seeing this Theon.