#please i hope the only thing i ever influence any of you to do is to make art

[junktastic]

I saw the words "art influencer" and my frenzy meter filled up.

Before anyone comes at my ass for being "jealous" or that I should "just let them get that bag," no. Wrong. What the fuck is wrong with you.

[fear-is-truth]

༉‧₊˚. j’s note. for @redskies-7. turned out a bit longer than i expected but only because i adored your request … warnings: mature content. 18+. mastūrbation. fingēring

peter had been on high alert ever since the mission that left you with nasty gashes across your abdomen. the memory of you collapsing, blood soaking through your suit, haunted him, and he’d been an absolute wreck ever since. even now, with bandages wrapped snug around your waist and most of the pain fading to a dull ache, he still treated you like you were on death’s doorstep. “okay, careful, careful,” he’d mutter every time you so much as shifted on the bed. peter would zip over in a blur, fluffing pillows and checking the bandages even when you insisted you were fine.

you had tried to hint that you wanted his attention for something other than fussing over you. but to your disappointment, he’d just shake his head, “uh, no can do, babe,” he’d say, practically vibrating with nervous energy. “you need rest, and i’m, like, a terrible influence when it comes to resting. last thing i wanna do is, y’know, make things worse.”

but you were feeling better. really. and you were tired of the distance he was forcing between you, however well-intentioned it was. late one night, you woke up feeling restless, perhaps a little too desperate. the ache of your injuries having dulled considerably, transferring to a different kind of ache, slow and burning between your thighs. peter was sprawled next to you, completely conked out and snoring softly. wincing, you adjusted yourself into a more comfortable position before slipping your fingers under the waistline of your panties.

you squirmed at the much-needed contact, hoping it would be enough to take the edge off. you bit your lip, trying to stifle any moans… but your small fingers were far from enough to ease some of the pent-up frustration from two long weeks of forced rest. but then, just as you finally felt the tickle of a weak orgasm, you heard your boyfriend let out a low, sleepy groan.

“hey… what’s goin’ on?” you turned your head to see him blinking himself awake, silver hair sticking up in all directions. as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, they landed on the guilty look on your face, how your hands were conveniently under the covers. a slow, lazy grin spread across his face as he put two and two together.

“wait a sec…” he raised an eyebrow, looking far too pleased with himself. “are you…?” heat flooded your cheeks, and you froze, pulling the blanket up over your face in embarrassment. “peter, it’s nothing. just… go back to sleep,” you mumbled, but he only chuckled, clearly enjoying this far too much.

“wait, are you…?” he asked, a hint of poorly concealed amusement in his voice. “no way.” he stretched out his arms and looked at you, that amused smirk making your face go even hotter. “you couldn’t just ask me for help?”“peter,” you whispered, mortified, pulling the blanket up in an attempt to hide your face.

“just—g-go back to sleep.”

“nah, can’t do that now,” he gently tugged the blanket back down to see your face. his smile turned downright devious. “you’re over here trying to go solo when i’m literally right here?” he scoffed, shaking his head. “babe, i’m almost offended. i thought we were supposed to be a team.”

you buried your face in your hands, utterly embarrassed. but, to your surprise, the teasing stopped immediately; off like a switch. peter nudged your hands away gently, looking at you with earnest concern.

“look,” he began, softer this time, “i know you’re still healing, but—i’ll get back in the groove real quick. don’t want you wearing yourself out, right?” peter flexed his fingers, stretching them out with a flourish, and then, his whole hand started to tremble, no that wasn’t the right word — his hand was vibrating. there was a slight blur to it, as his fingers quivered like a hummingbird’s wings, the movement almost imperceptible to the naked eye.

“…or did you forget my specialty?” he wiggled his eyebrows. you giggled despite yourself, embarrassment starting to melt away as peter braced himself with one forearm planted carefully by your side, making sure not to press into your bandaged torso. “so… what do you say?” he whispered into your ear, “let me take care of you?”

and just like that, you were granted something you’d been denied for weeks. peter had always prided himself on his unique style of “multitasking”. thanks to his ADHD, focusing on one thing wasn’t exactly his strong suit, but with you, he was hell-bent on trying. besides, he was pretty sure he could handle it—especially since you’d made it clear you really needed him right now.

“mghm ohmygod yes, right there, right there–”

he let out a little chuckle at your enthusiasm, lips brushing along your jawline as his vibrating fingers plunged in and out of you. “you know i kept telling myself, ‘peter, you gotta be responsible, let her heal,’” his voice dropped, almost like he was letting you in on some big secret.

“but… c’mon, you’re you. how was i supposed to stay away?” he moved to press a kiss just below your ear, letting out a little dramatic sigh. normally, you would’ve been slightly annoyed with peter’s chattiness, but his voice now possessed a soothing quality that served the purpose to ground you… and distract you from the lewd squelches that reached your ears.

“fuck, you’re, like, my kryptonite. i missed you like this,” your fingers were tangled in his hair, threading through the soft, messy silver strands, and as you gave a gentle tug, peter let out a low hum of contentment. his eyelids fluttered for a second, the corners of his mouth tugging up into a lazy grin as his lips continued their slow, lazy journey from your collarbone down to the soft curve of your breast.

“mhm, keep doin’ that baby. you’re so good fer me.”

he mumbled against your skin, swirling his tongue around your rock-hard nipple while sinking in knuckle-deep. reduced to nothing but a writhing mess in the sheets, the only response that sounded from you was a strained whimper, the moment you felt his fingers curl against your sweet spot. the glorious stretch made you realise just how much you were missing out in this two weeks of abstinence, and how hard it must’ve been for peter as well—judging by the way his hips were rocking against the mattress.

“should’ve woken me up sooner—would’ve saved you a whole lotta trouble.” another moan slipped past your lips as peter began to thrust his fingers with more vigour, reaching deeper than you never thought possible while simultaneously maintaining that delicious vibration in his fingertips. the heat that had been building in the pit of your stomach was fuelled with each stroke of his thumb on your on your clit, and within seconds, a mind-numbing pleasure set your entire bloodstream ablaze. as you rode out your orgasm, peter’s other hand slid over yours, lacing your fingers together.

as your breathing finally started to even out, you glanced over at your boyfriend, who was watching you with that soft, starry-eyed look, his teeth catching on his bottom lip. he caught you staring and gave you a small, lopsided smile, reaching over to brush a few stray hairs from your face. “feelin’ better?” you nodded yes, still catching your breath, and leaned forward to press a slow, lingering kiss to his lips, feeling the heat of his erection poke against your abdomen.

when you pulled back, you whispered, “i wanna do something for you, too. with you, to be exact.”

his eyes widened, that hint of pink deepening in his cheeks. for a second, he just stared, looking torn, like he was debating with himself. you could practically see the gears turning in his head, weighing his worry against his own need for you. then peter sighed deeply, running a hand through his messy hair, trying to muster his usual bravado.“okay, fine,” he finally relented, shifting to move on top of you carefully, his hand bracing by your side to avoid putting any pressure on your bandaged torso. “but if i hurt you—or if you start bleeding again—i’m… i’m wrapping you up in so much gauze you won’t be able to move,”

a/n: sorry if this sounded ooc… it’s been a while since i’ve written for peter </3

 fear-is-truth

[uyuuma]

“ I HOPE YOU KNOW I'M FADED ”

drunk!gojo x exgf!reader ღ MDNI.

❥ summary. you and your toxic ex, gojo, broke up months ago. yet you find his drunk ass outside your apartment door.

❥ warnings. nsfw, female anatomy, toxic ex, manipulative gojo, dub con, dacryphilia, use of the name 'daddy', alcohol mentioned, tw: toxic relationship dynamic, etc.

❥ a/n. okok this one i thought of while i was bored at work, hope y'all enjoyyyy. i had to resubmit this post bc it got taken down bruh lets hope it doesnt happen again (title was inspired from the song 'spotlight' by lil peep; it is encouraged to listen while reading :3)

❥ wc. 3.2k

Your life has been rather drama-free ever since you broke up with Satoru Gojo.

After the constant arguments and severe manipulation that he had put you through, you decided enough was enough and you told him to essentially fuck off.

But if you were being honest with yourself, you weren't fully over him yet. In fact, life may have been drama-free but it became so boring after that. In some kind of fucked up way, you kind of missed the rollercoaster of emotions he put you through.

That's just how things are you guess, prioritizing your peace over that man was the healthier decision in the long run. You blocked his number and all of his social media as well as ghosting all of your mutuals, like Suguru and Shoko. It was a tough decision but you were tired of them asking about you and Satoru. He's done enough damage to your life already.

It's been radio silence since then, wonderful peace and quiet for two whole months. You found yourself taking up old hobbies again, exercising regularly, and even talking to other men. Life was right back on track and you were on your way to properly healing.

Unfortunately, it wasn't enough because he still knew where you lived. You didn't really bank on the fact he would come banging on your door. You believed he would just move on, since he is Satoru Gojo after all. Any woman would be head over heels for the handsome man, even if he was toxic as fuck.

But no, god dammit it all, he is still stuck on you.

Loud banging could be heard on your apartment door. It scared the living daylights out of you when you shot up from beneath your covers. You thought that there was someone trying to break in or perhaps your building manager was trying to alert you to a fire. You immediately rolled out of bed and ran to the door.

That's when you heard that cursed voice.

"Open uppppp!" the voice slurred on the other side.

You groan an exasperated "Noooooo fuckkkk!" under your breath after realizing it's your ex.

"Baby please... I know you're in thereeee" He said in a joking manner.

You open the door a crack, not unhooking the chain lock. "Go away, I told you I never wanted to see you again." You said coldly. Your voice was also a tad raspy, as you had just woken up from a deep slumber.

"Baby don't be like that, let daddy in will you?" He purred through the crack of the door. You could tell he was under the influence of something and it caused you to roll your eyes.

"Fuck no, now leave before I call the cops." You threatened as you went to shut the door.

The door came to a halt with a loud 'THUD'. Satoru grabbed the chain lock with his fist and he held it open before you could shut it. You gasp and jolt back from the audacity that this guy had.

"No no no no no, you're not listening t'me. I wanna talk to you." He said as he tried to pull the chain off the door.

You knew he had the strength to do it too and you didn't feel like replacing it so you annoyedly invited him in.

"Christ, fine but only for a bit! Do you understand me?" You said sharply, unlocking the chain.

"Anything you want, mama." He said grinning, he swiped the door open wide to let his towering frame through the doorway.

You click your tongue in irritation as you quietly close the door behind him. "What do you want, Satoru? It is 3 in the fucking morning!" You whisper yelled.

"Shhhhshhhshh" He spat out at you, putting his long finger against your lips, hushing you. "I just missed you so much, hehe." He found it amusing you were getting angry and it only triggered you more.

"Don't touch me, you're not my boyfriend anymore." You said smacking his hand away from you.

"Says who?" He asks confusedly. He tilts his head to the side.

"Says me!" You said trying not to scream too loud and wake the neighbors.

"Pshhh nah ah!" He says as he smirks. "I say we just forgive each other and move on, huh?" He proposes the idea, with full confidence.

You let out a laugh in disbelief. "Each other? You prick, you're the one that manipulated me and used me! If anything you should be begging me for forgiveness! And you can start by leaving!" Your voice was starting to get louder, but you were beyond infuriated right now.

"What are y'talking about? Don't start with this crazy shit." He said with a twinge of irritation in his voice. He slouched a lot worse than usual, his hands stuffed into the pocket of his sweats. He was wearing that stupid compression shirt that would always make your head spin when you saw it.

He also reeked of alcohol. It was safe to say that the dude was drunk. It took a lot just to get him tipsy, so for him to be this drunk it must've meant he's been at it all night.

"Look baby, I just came from Sukuna's house party and it made me realized how much I missed youuu." he said, his eyes all glossy.

Oh? So, he decided to crawl back after drinking himself silly at some house party? This guy couldn't get anymore pathetic, you thought to yourself. "You stink of booze, get out of my apartment you bum." You said pointing out the door. "I don't need you ruining my life again."

"C'mon don't be like that princess, you know the only thing I'd ever ruin is your slutty little holes." He said, smirking. He grabbed your chin with his hand and brought you close to his face. You could smell the whiskey still hot on his breath.

You were so beyond done with this. "You're repulsive, do not talk about me like that." All of the emotions you had that you've suppressed came back and all at once. You could feel that all too familiar burning in your eyes and throat.

You went silent and smoothed over your hair with your hand, trying to soothe yourself. Do not let him make you cry again. You took a few deep breaths before continuing.

"Look I know you're fucked up, but you need to call an Uber and leave immediately." You said looking up into his eyes to show how serious you were being.

He just continued to give you this cocky smirk while tuning you out. He just won't fucking listen to you.

"Ok! Well here this shit is again! You never take me seriously! It's like I'm this big fucking joke to you!" You yelled out, letting your emotions start to swell inside your chest.

Tears began to spill from your eyes as months and months of frustrations started to unravel. You looked down and brought your sleeve to wipe your tears. "Well, I won't take it anymore! I-" Suddenly you found that your breath was suddenly snatched from your lungs, after looking back up at him.

Satoru was palming his hard-on while you were sobbing. He was getting off to your tears. The fucking bastard.

"Are you─!" You were cut off by Satoru's moans.

"Fuck, you are so sexy when you get all emotional like that. God, I just want to shut you up with my cock." He said eyes fixated on your face.

"You cannot be serious right now!" You've had enough of his shit, you shoved him, trying to get him out the door.

"Oooh playin' rough with me princess?" He doesn't budge from you trying to push him. "Aww, if only you weren't so weak." He says as he wraps his hand around your wrist and pulls it up. He yanks your hand above your head and watches you squirm.

He looks thoroughly amused and cracks a smile when you fight back.

"Aw I miss this, us arguing and fighting. It always gets my blood pumping." he said, shoving you to your knees.

You tried to fight where this was inevitably going to end up, but it was no use. Satoru was just too damn strong and too damn convincing.

He hisses as he frees his dick from his sweats. It bobs up and down from the sudden release. Your eyes follow it, mesmerized with how big it was. It's been a few months since you last saw it. You had so many conflicting thoughts racing through your head as you silently knelt on the floor below him.

"Suck." He commanded, holding his tip to your lips. His precum lubricated your soft lips, making you feel sticky already.

You shook your head and used your hands to push away from it using his thighs as leverage. You didn't want to give into him, not after everything.

"No fuck- c'mon baby just open wide." He cooed out to you. Even now he was deciding everything for you. He decided you were going to suck his dick and that's what you were going to do.

It was a struggle between you pushing away and him grabbing your hair and pushing your head down onto his cock. Between his groans in anticipation and your whines in protest, he became increasingly impatient.

"No no no, shhhshhh... that's a good girl." He hiccupped. Satoru successfully got your mouth to take his tip. He grunted and tilted his head back slightly, feeling you slowly but surely take his length.

"Oh fuck, I missed your mouth so much baby." He purred as he parted your hair out of your face.

You closed your eyes in defeat as tears began sliding down your cheeks. He held your head still with one hand gripping on your pony tail and pumped himself in and out of your mouth.

"Fuuuuck, no matter where I looked I couldn't find another girl who satisfied me like you do." He started to invade your throat with his length, making your esophagus become sore and your lungs burn from the lack of air.

You choked on his cock, saliva dripping down your chin and neck, as well as down his balls. Your fingernails dug deep into his thighs, trying to either push yourself off or for leverage. One of the two, you didn't know anymore. All you knew was that little warm sensation that built between your legs. Your body was betraying you, you were supposed to hate this man, to not let him abuse you anymore. But fuck, his cock hit all the right places in your tight throat. Your eyes begin to cross as you struggle to breathe.

"Shit, you swallow me so good. Mmm, tell me you want daddy to cum down your throat." He said fucking into your mouth, your lewd slurping sounds were very pleasing to his ears.

You let out a muffled moan in response, obviously you couldn't say anything but that was enough of an answer for him.

"Oh fuck, take my load." he ordered, his abs flexing as he came. He groaned as he painted your throat white with his seed. You could feel the hot, sticky fluid make its way down your throat as you swallowed it all.

More tears fell onto your cheeks. "Hate you, 'toru." you whined out, throat still raw from his dick forcing its way in.

Satoru gave you that cocky smile again and tapped his cock against your cheek as you pouted. "Still harddd." he sang. "Wanna be a doll f'me and get on all fours?" He said wiping the spit off your chin.

You were so disappointed in yourself. This man was forcing himself back into your life and all you could do was watch as it happened. You looked up at him and see that faded look in his eyes. They say that drunk words were sober thoughts, has he been wanting to do this for two months?

Despite everything, you did exactly as he said. You turned around and lowered yourself onto all fours. Truth is, your pussy was aching for him and it had been since you guys broke up. Those men couldn't satisfy you and neither could your dildo, at least not like how Satoru can. Perhaps this whole situation was inevitable.

You pull down your panties and shamefully spread your pussy out for him, showing how you were already wet and ready for him to stretch you out.

"Aww, baby you're already soaked. I haven't even touched you down there yet." He said kneeling down to take a closer look. He took his hand to grip your ass and moved his thumb to swipe a line against your cunt.

You shuddered from the satisfaction of finally being touched where you were aching. You could hear shuffling from behind you and felt a sudden wet, warmth swipe up and down on your clit.

You gasped and clasped your hand over your mouth in response to Satoru suddenly eating you out. How polite of him to at least warm you up.

There was something so feral about the way he ate you out. Perhaps it was the alcohol, but he was sloppily sucking on your clit making your legs shake from the pleasure. He began humming and moaning as his tongue entered you, pumping in and out. His fingernails were digging into the fat of your ass as he spread your cheeks nice and wide for him.

Your arms wanted to give out from under you, but the bastard chose to fuck you on the cold hardwood flooring in the foyer. So you struggled to hold your head up, as if that would protect your dignity.

Satoru parted his mouth from your now slick folds, spit dripping all over your floors. "Mmm, baby I missed tasting you." He said, lust dripping from his voice almost as much as the saliva down his chin. He wiped the drool and slick from his mouth and gave your ass a swift 'SMACK'. You yelped out from the sudden sting.

"You ready baby? This is my favorite part." He cooed into your ear as he rutted his erection against your pussy.

"Yes 'Toru, fuck me please." You whined out. You were already gone, you just wanted the sweet release of the growing knot in your tummy. It was far too late to fight back at this point, all you could think about was him rearranging your guts.

He didn't need to hear any other words of confirmation as he aligned his throbbing cock with your dripping cunt. He pushed the tip in and let a shaky moan out along with a hiss.

"Fuck, always so tight." He groaned while thrusting just the tip in and out of your hole. His hands were still gripping your ass at this time, but he moved his left hand to grip onto your shoulder, lowering you onto his cock.

You let out such sweet moans and whimpers as he watched your pretty cunt swallow him up. He was mesmerized, trying not to cum at the very sight of it. He gave a drawn out sigh in relief from feeling your gummy walls clamp onto him.

He repositioned his large hands to have a strong grip on your waist as he started to thrust in and out of you. It was a slow rhythm at first, nice and sensual like he was trying to massage your insides.

It drove you insane, feeling him drag in and out. He had your back arched, so you folded your arms and laid on them. You scraped the floors with your nails as you felt him start to smack his hips against your ass.

"Mmm... fuck Satoru..." you mewled out, shoulder blades pushing together as your back curved in.

"M'gonna ruin your little pussy." He said making his thrusts rougher. "Gonna punish you for leaving me." He grunted out through clenched teeth. He let out a breathy moan as he leaned over you, slamming his hips flush against your ass.

You let out a sharp squeal as he jackhammered your cervix at this new angle. This squeal pleased him so much that he chuckled and said, "Keep making those cute little sounds."

He caged you beneath him by putting all of his weight on his left arm, holding his hand steadily on the floor by your head. He took his right arm and roughly took your arms from beneath your head. He pinned them both behind your back as he relentlessly pounded into you. This way he could have complete control over your body.

Your face was now met with the cold floor. Your cheek was squished and your mouth agape, drooling from the mind-melting ecstasy. You were starting to see stars, eyes not being able to focus on a single thing. Not that you could see through your tears anyways. You felt your climax approaching rapidly, pussy clenching him uncontrollably.

He started to curse under his breath as his thrusts became more shaky and messy from the pressure. You could tell he was nearing his orgasm too.

"Fuck baby, cum on my cock. Wanna feel you squeeze me." He said, his words coming out super slurred. You couldn't see his expression but you could tell from his voice that he was not only drunk but also pussy-drunk.

Your hands clenched from behind your back and your whole body seized up as you reached your limit. "F-fuck m'gonna cum daddy!" You screeched out, forgetting it was four in the morning. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you gasped. Your whole body spasmed as you felt that sweet release you had been craving for months.

"Oh shit baby-" He cut himself off as he bit down on his lip. He hunched his entire body over you and his hands flew to grip onto your hips. "M'gonna fucking fill you so deep" He whimpered as he slammed your ass tightly against his pelvis. You could feel him twitch against you as that familiar warmth invades your pussy.

His curses are much louder this time around, slurring out profanities as thick ropes of cum coat your walls.

You gave one last whine before completely collapsing under him. "Satoru..." you said softly, very much out of breath.

He was silent for a second, slowly pulling himself out of your sore, leaking hole. He took his thumb and plugged your cunt so that his precious fluids stayed inside.

You squeaked from the feeling and laid on the floor in defeat. Your whole body was spent and you felt as if you could pass out on the floor.

He stood up and lifted his sweats back up. "C'mon princess lets go back to bed." He said kneeling back down to pick you up.

"I hate you, Satoru." You said meekly. You meant it, yet you didn't at the same time.

"Love you too baby." He said picking you up, bridal style.

He carried you to your bed, slipping under the covers with you. He spooned you and rested his face in the crook of your neck.

His scent was intoxicating, cologne mixed with musk and alcohol. Fuck, you really did miss him after all.

Whatever, you'll deal with kicking him out in the morning. Or not. You weren't sure anymore as you drifted back to sleep.

[twistedpink]

Hi !! I hope ur having a great day!

ik Ace is already a troublemaker but like troublemaker bad boy boyfriend typa thing? thxxx

omg anon this is a Christmas miracle

Boyfriend!Ace that’s a bad influence, but instead of you being some sweet innocent thing, you’re so much worse. The two of you make a competition of it (bc ofc you do, it’s Ace) he goads you into skipping class? You do it with him behind the school and spend the whole time trashing your classmates and trolling online

Boyfriend!Ace is so grateful that you’re his partner in crime (matching his freak and whatnot) and encourages you to do the meanest stuff because it’s funny. Sure, you regret it later, but does it really matter if you’re going back any day now? Convincing yourself it “shouldn’t count” because you swear to play nice again back home is something that happens too often. You know his attitude’ll stick to you, but it’s hard to get rid of it when it’s the only momento you’ll have :(

Boyfriend!Ace that’s SO bad at being subtle you’re starting to think it’s on purpose,, SDC turns into Jamil’s personal hell because he’s just now realizing that every time you went into the storage closet together “to fetch something” before a game you were totally making out. He hates freshmen now, and won’t ever feel clean again some unknown reason.

Boyfriend!Ace that’s a menace whenever you try and study for once, grabbing at you while insisting you “thinking too hard” is preventing him from napping.

Boyfriend!Ace just wants to monopolize your time, and is that so wrong? You’ve gotta like it at least a little to still be dating him :) If you put your brains together you’ll totally pass your finals! So please don’t ditch him during breakup season <333

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Three Rules

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2k

Warnings: being in an abusive relationship, domestic violence, covering up bruises (nothing is ever explicit, just talked about), minor fluff at the end

Summary: Bucky Barnes has been assigned to you as a way to overcome his feelings and separate himself from the Winter Solider. You're his saving grace and maybe, he can be yours.

Squares Filled: "need a medic?" (2021) @star-spangled-bingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

The mirror above the steering wheel is so tiny but it’ll have to do since you don’t have your big mirror in your purse this time. You make sure your makeup is good enough to last the whole day, and more importantly, to keep what’s underneath hidden from everyone else. You don’t know what you’d do if people found out about your home life.

When you deem yourself okay, you grab your things and head straight to work. Your assistant, Carly, greets you with a friendly smile and a cup of coffee.

“Good morning, boss!”

“Morning. Who do we have on the books today?”

“The only one is Bucky Barnes.”

“Great. Send him in as soon as he gets here.”

“Sure.”

You walk into your office and make sure everything you need for today’s session is in front of you. Bucky Barnes has only been seeing you for a couple of months so it’s still so new to either of you. You're a well-respected psychologist who had many clients, but you never thought you’d be seeing the former Winter Soldier.

You’ve heard the stories. You know what he’s done but he’s trying to atone for his mistakes. One of the important ways he’s going to do that is if you give him the chance to. He’s been respectful of you even though he’s closed off. Someone like him who experienced the torture he’s been through isn’t going to open up easily. It’s hard getting him to talk about himself but you’re hoping that if you start from before Hydra it will get him to open up to you a lot more.

His appointment is in a couple of minutes so you check yourself using your desk mirror to make sure everything still looks the same.

“Boss, Mr. Barnes is here,” Carly says through the phone intercom.

“Send him in.” The door opens and Bucky walks in with an uncertain look in his eyes. You give him a small yet friendly smile to ease his concerns. “Hello, Mr. Barnes. Please, have a seat.”

“Please, call me Bucky.”

“Okay, Bucky.” He sits down on the couch across from your desk. “How was your week?” He shrugs in response. “Did you do anything special?”

“I spent time with Sam and his family.”

“How did that make you feel? Did you like it?”

“It was alright,” he sighs.

“Did you uphold your three rules?”

Rule #1: Don’t do anything illegal. Rule #2: Don’t hurt anyone. Rule #3: Introduce himself as James Barnes instead of Bucky, formerly the Winter Solider.

“Yes.”

“That’s good. I’m proud of the progress you’ve made since seeing me. Is there anything you’d like to talk about specifically that happened this week?”

“No.”

He can’t seem to look at you. He’s talking to you, that’s a plus, even though he’s only giving you one-syllable words.

“Bucky, if this is going to work, I need you to try here. I’m not asking you to write me a novel about your life. I’m asking you to give a little. Can you do that for me?” you ask in a gentle tone.

“Okay,” he sighs and looks into your eyes. “I’ll try.”

“What would you like to talk about?”

“Steve.”

“What about Steve?” Bucky looks like he wants to cry. Anything about Steve makes him question everything about him. He left Bucky. He left everyone behind to start a life in another timeline. “This is a safe space. Everything you’re feeling is valid, Bucky. When you’re ready, I’d love to hear what you have to say.”

It takes him ten long minutes to find the courage to talk and when he does, he can’t look at you.

“What if Steve was wrong about me? I was under Hydra’s influence when we crossed paths again, and he did everything he could to save me. He even brought me to Wakanda to get that shit out of my head. What if it’s still there? What if they say those words again and I’m back to being the Winter Soldier? Sometimes I don’t think I’m worth saving.”

You want to cry for him. He is so badly damaged that it will take a long time if not the rest of his life to be okay again. He might have happy moments here and there, but those fears will always be there. You have to choose your words carefully.

“It’s hard to see the good in someone who has done bad, but that doesn’t make you a bad person. Steve remembered his best friend and knew the kind of person he was. Steve remembered something in you that is still true to this day.”

“What?” he asks and looks up at you with hints of tears in his eyes.

“I see a man trying to do good, to atone for his mistakes, and I think that’s someone worth saving. Steve saw it, too.” A single tear escapes his eyes but he doesn’t wipe it away. “If you are who you think you are, you wouldn’t feel remorse for what they did to you. The fact that you do shows me that you’re more than what they put in your head. You’re trying to do good with the bad you’ve been given, and that’s not a bad person.”

You’ve made excellent progress with Bucky this session, and you think the next one is going to go by just as smoothly. He only gets an hour but you make the most of the rest of the hour.

“The same time next week?” you ask.

“I’ll see you then, Doc,” Bucky smiles and leaves your office.

With each passing session, you and Bucky form a stronger bond until he realizes he looks forward to being with you. You make his day a bit brighter but the last thing he is gonna do is tell you that. You’d never have romantic relations with a client but you can’t say the same once they no longer are your clients.

You show up to work one week dabbing makeup on your face while driving. You’re on the phone with your husband. He isn’t on speakerphone and your phone is resting in one of the cup holders, but you can still hear every word he is saying as clear as day. He is yelling that loudly at you. You forgot to do the dishes before you left for work and now he is telling you what a burden you are, how much he hates you, and that you’re useless…

…and those are the nice things.

“Baby, I was running late this morning. I’m sorry,” you sigh and pick up the phone.

“I will deal with you later,” he growls and hangs up the phone.

You’d cry but then you’d ruin your makeup, and you’re already at work. You push down your feelings about your abusive husband and walk into work. You gasp at how hot it is, and you look at your assistant who has her work jacket off.

“What is going on in here? Why is it so hot?”

“The air conditioning is broken but someone is coming to look at it later.”

“Fine,” you sigh. “How many today?”

“Three.”

“Send them through.”

You get through the first two clients with as few problems as possible but by the time Bucky comes in, you’re almost about to break. You're tired, your face is pulsing with pain, your makeup feels like cake at this point, and you don’t know how much longer you can stand sitting in the heat.

“Hi, Bucky. Please have a seat,” you greet. He sees the immediate shift in your behavior and you’ve only said six words to him. “I’d like to start this session by talking about last week. You said something about taking a trip with Sam, right? How did that go?”

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Bucky, we’re here to talk about you, not me.”

Bucky has to let it go for right now but he can’t when you wipe your face to clear the sweat. You forget that you have makeup on otherwise you wouldn’t have wiped your face with your handkerchief. It’s not entirely present but Bucky knows a bruise when he sees one, and you have a dark one near your eye.

“Need a medic?”

“I’m fine. I fell.”

“I’ve fallen plenty of times. I’ve gotten hit enough times to know a bruise caused by a punch when I see one.”

“Bucky, please. Drop it. We’re not here to talk about me.”

Bucky notices you play with your wedding ring nervously whenever the spotlight is on you. He’s not stupid. He knows exactly what’s been happening here. For your sake, he lets it go. The session is cut short due to Bucky needing to be somewhere, and you made it clear he is still getting charged the full hour whether he uses it or not. He was fine with it so you moved on with three other clients after him.

The air conditioning was fixed after the first client, so you redid your makeup in the bathroom to be more presentable. It’s late when you finish with your last client, and you curse at the time. Your husband is going to kill you if you’re late again. You gather your things and rush out of your office, but Carly stops you before you can get far.

“Listen, I’m running late, so can you--”

“The police called earlier. I told them you were with a client and they asked if you could call them back. They said it was urgent.”

“Oh, okay,” you stutter. She hands you her phone after redialing the last number called. “Hi, my name is Y/N. My assistant got a call earlier?” You hear the words they’re saying but your brain isn’t processing them. “Wait, I’m sorry, he’s what?”

“Your husband is dead, ma’am. I’m very sorry for your loss.”

“How? When? I just talked to him this morning.”

“My guess is that he’s been dead for maybe four hours. He died from a severe beating and blunt-force trauma to the head.”

All you hear them saying is that you’re free. You’re finally free. No more pain. You’re not sure who killed your husband because he didn’t have a lot of enemies. Despite how he treated you, he was very charming to everyone else. He put up this facade that made him look like a saint when really, he was the devil.

When you show up to work the next week, your hair is pinned up, you have light makeup on, a nice outfit, and your heart is light. You’ve never been happier now that your husband is out of the picture. He was a wealthy man, so you got all of his money to use how you see fit. He was so horrible to you so maybe his money will bring some happiness to people when you donate a chunk to different charities.

Bucky shows up right on time, and you give him a smile when he enters your room. You look down and notice some bruising and scabs on his knuckles, and if his metal hand could scar as easily as flesh, he’d have scars there, too.

“Have a seat, Bucky.”

“You look happier.”

You chuckle in amusement. You look Carly through the small glass window who is busy taking calls for you to listen to later. You look back at Bucky who raises his eyebrows in question.

“The following conversation didn’t happen.” He nods in understanding. “My husband is dead. Someone killed him.”

Bucky doesn’t say anything for a long five minutes.

“Did he deserve it?”

“Yes.”

“Then don’t worry about it.”

“Did you break rule number two?”

“I might have,” he smiles, “but I had a really good reason.”

“What reason is that?” you ask and sit back.

“There’s this woman I know, and for the first time since I met her, she actually had a genuine smile on her face… and it is gorgeous. I guess her husband didn’t know what he had when he had her.”

You smile at Bucky.

“No, he didn’t.”

x

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[hopefulceladon]

a battered light (can only burn so bright) | sunday x reader

summary: it truly was only a matter of time before he burnt himself out, wasn't it? pairing: sunday x reader word count: 4.5k (help me) notes: the self-indulgent brain worms influenced me i am so sorry. you give sunday a wing massage and he clearly has Mixed Feelings about it all. is he yearning? is he just stubborn? the world may never know.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

A blanket of starlight had wrapped itself around the Dewlight Pavilion, the ethereal glow illuminated ever brighter by the governing moon.

On such peaceful nights like this, solace for the fatigued was all too simple to acquire for those who sought it, yet even still, there remained those who did not yet allow themselves the luxury of rest whenever daylight grew dim.

It was just such a terrible pity that the Head of the Oak Family was one of them—a conclusion strengthened by the restless, focused, and very much still awake Halovian displayed before you.

“Mr. Sunday,” you called for him as you balanced a silver tray in your arms, hoping to garner his attention.

Your hopes were soon drowned out by the clatter of footsteps as they treaded to-and-fro against wooden floorboards, a pace that hardly ever changed in stride and never once dared to cease.

The sight laid before your eyes was a troubling one; Sunday was in the midst of sizing up his miniscule-scale model of the Golden Hour, his weary eyes roaming over the elaborate diorama as he muttered words that fell upon your ears like muddled verses of a foreign poem.

It was also a sight that you, unfortunately, were growing all too familiar with.

When the two birds of a feather had been reunited by the scarred hands of dormancy days prior, you quite naturally—and quite foolishly—had believed they had snatched away the tension that rested upon Sunday's shoulders in exchange.

It hadn't.

The scattered plumes of both deep purple and white, the likes of which were now haphazardly skirting themselves beneath the premises of the table Sunday paced around, had already given that away, after all.

Wordlessly, you avoided trampling any of the fallen feathers by the grace of your careful footing, and you settled the tray that carried both a cup of tea and a small plate of freshly cut strawberries—Robin had let it slip that he was fond of them once before—upon his desk in the room above, before descending the stairs and continuing to observe the madness before you.

Once you decided you could no longer bear the burden of playing a helpless bystander for much longer, you took a step forward and gently tapped Sunday upon his shoulder.

Sunday's feathers bristled in reaction to the abrupt touch, but his gaze softened once he turned around to face the source.

“Ah, do forgive me, please,” he began with a cordial, apologetic smile, his eyes tearing away from the model to glance at the tray. “I must've forgotten about this evening's tea.”

“If it clears your conscience any, I nearly forgot to start brewing it.” you admitted.

“Is that so?” Sunday hummed in response, nearly bewildered by your confession. “Hm, perhaps I should allow for a bit more leniency in the schedule...”

You frowned at the self-deprecating chuckle that left his lips, but you resisted making a remark. Without a further word spoken, you sat down in the chair that he had graciously pulled out for you, planted right next to his desk.

Peeking over at the files he was so adamantly focused upon, a small smile graced your lips at the underlined and emboldened heading, proudly declaring the parchment's title of ’Charmony Festival Preparations’.

“I can see why your memory slipped,” you mused, hoping to stave off any suffocating silence. “It’s an exciting thing to be in charge of something so memorable, isn’t it?”

Sunday tensed, a flicker of something unreadable dimming the usual poised gleam of his golden eyes.

“It... most certainly will be a festival one shall never forget.” Sunday finally replied.

You decided against inquiring as to why his wings had betrayed him, a subtle twitch disrupting their perfectly mundane flutter.

You also decided against dwelling upon the pitiful sight of gaps between his feathers.

As Sunday picked up his pen to scribble something upon the documents, a frown crossed your lips as you noted the way his eyes, with their appearance already marred by the evidence of lack of proper rest, had their corners crinkled from overexertion.

The remnants of a dying flame lingered upon the nearby candelabra’s wick, before extinguishing itself with a forlorn puff of smoke. As the light diminished further within the room, Sunday’s eyes squinted.

With a frown creasing your lips, you finally decided to speak up.

“Sir, if you’d like, I could relight the candle?”

Sunday paused to look up at you, shaking his head in light of your concern. “You really needn’t go through the trouble.” As your unwavering gaze met his, the visible extent of your worry piercing through his obstinate resolve, Sunday promptly faltered. “...but, of course, if you’re so insistent, I won't stop you.”

You nodded before getting up to scour his office for a matchstick, acquiring one with relative ease. As you struck the match against the igniter, you waited for the head to mingle with the worn-down wick with a steady hand.

Your focus soon fell upon Sunday’s weary countenance.

He was much akin to his candle, you reckoned—meant to burn bright for all to see, yet the burdens of his extensive obligations had weighed his benevolent, ever-giving wick down to a charred stub; whenever he had wavered, so, too, did his light.

And, much like a moth enraptured by a kindled flame, you, like most any other Dreamscape denizen, had clung to the luster he meticulously weaved from the luminance of his candle. Nonetheless, his elevated status hadn’t hidden that he was as helplessly human as those he served, and that even he, too, needed a lamppost to sturdy himself upon.

You wondered if he ever allowed himself to acknowledge such logic.

Once the match finally ignited the wick, you silenced your internal musing with a sigh, snuffing the lingering embers upon the wooden stick with a flick of your wrist.

As you set the candelabra back down onto his desk, it was then that you noted the still untouched cup of tea.

“Your tea must be getting cold by now...”

Sunday’s attention drifted away from his paperwork, and he glanced over at the cup. “Ah, right...” he hummed in acknowledgment, studying it carefully. “It’s chamomile, I presume?”

“As evident by the pigment, yes.”

“And the bitter leaves have been amplified by a squeezed lemon, correct?”

“Of course.”

“Thoroughly stirred, though not too harshly?”

“Only the gentlest of stirrings for you, sir.”

“That’s my wonderful assistant,” Sunday mused with a tired smile, lifting the drink up to his lips and taking a small sip from it, before setting it back down. “Life is quite more convenient when everything is coordinated as it should be, isn’t it?”

You nodded at his observation, all too familiar with the principles he's uttered before in the past. “It does have its perks.”

Sunday stirred the spoon in his cup around in slow circles, his expression growing unreadable.

“So, it truly is a shame whenever something disrupts how things ought to be...”

“You’ve... mentioned that before, yes.” you replied, hesitantly clinging onto his every word.

Sunday hummed as he took another sip. As he refreshed the tea against his palate, his eyebrows narrowed in concentration, prompting his lips to form a frown.

“I’ve noticed the sugar you've been sprinkling in.”

“And I’ve noticed that you've begun to molt.” you quickly retorted without much thought. It was childish, yes, you knew, but perhaps your hasty tongue had a point.

The Halovian stiffened at your remark.

“I beg your pardon?”

Your confidence wavered as Sunday’s eyebrows furrowed, yet your shame was outweighed by your concern.

“The floor is littered with proof, and as pristine as you keep your appearance, it’s hard to cover up unevenness caused by fallen feathers," you paused, your focus drifting from the wings near his temples to fall upon his paperwork. “And, given the stress that normally accompanies festival preparations...”

Sunday’s tongue clicked in frustration at the implication.

“Whether or not I was stressed—or even molting, for that matter—my feathers should hardly be any of your concern,” he replied, his voice trailing off as he eyed your approaching hands.

In a swift motion, he pinned your wrists down against the desk, a counteraction made in desperation to prevent them from reaching their destination.

“...and I would appreciate it if you kindly refrained from touching them.”

You tried your best to recoil one of your hands away, but they wouldn't move—how could they, when they now sought the mercy of his restrictive grasp?

Even as Sunday’s palms cordially arranged for your wrists to be wed to the wooden surface, however, you didn't budge. “Were this over anything else, I would gladly listen, but given the fact that you’ll need someone to help you safely-”

Sunday’s eyes squeezed themselves shut in frustration.

“Beloved assistant of mine, please do not be so obstinate.”

As the Halovian's hold upon your wrists gradually softened, you snatched them back to your sides.

“I learn from the worst.” you murmured.

Sunday let out a soft sigh in response before returning to his paperwork. A part of you wondered why you even dared to bother vocalizing your concern.

Nonetheless, in the ever-growing silence, it was only then that you realized how truly worn out the Halovian had appeared. The dark circles underneath his eyes and the missing feathers had been telltale signs, but even his countenance had changed; beneath his layers of practiced, superficial perfection, you could sense that he was exhausted beyond both your unwavering understanding and his intentional ignorance.

Your heart sunk to the pit of your stomach as your eyes caught themselves on the sight of dried blood in the center of one of the gaps in his feathers, before they reluctantly tore themselves away. It was hardly like him to ignore his appearance to such an extent.

A sigh crossed your lips as you focused upon a droplet of heated wax, witnessing it roll off the surface of the pitiful candle and onto the table.

You couldn’t hold your tongue for much longer.

“Sir, you really should examine your wings.”

“I hardly have the luxury of time on my side,” Sunday countered swiftly. “Were it not for the preparations, I would've already-”

“Then, please, at least let me try?” you interjected without second thought.

Sunday’s gaze tore away from his desk to stare at you, unblinking, as if you had just uttered the most irrational thing possible, and perhaps you indeed had—an offer made in haste could surely be considered as such, couldn't it?

“Did I not already beg you not to do so?”

“You did, but as your assistant, I’ve known you long enough to be certain you’ll just prioritize perfecting the festival over your own well-being, so...” you stared at the spot once more before glancing back at him. “Please.”

Sunday shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he pondered your offer, his wings twitching from what you assumed was contemplation. He parted his lips to speak, only to draw out a mere reluctant sigh.

Slowly, Sunday opened one of the drawers to his desk, pulling out a cloth and a spray bottle, before holding out his hand with the two items bundled together within his grasp. As he motioned for you to take the items with a nudge of his hand, you noted that his eyes never once met yours.

“Thank you.” you said with a soft smile.

Recalling the multiple occasions you had witnessed him clean his wings, as well as the knowledge you secretly procured from handbooks on Halovian biology, you spritzed the water upon the cloth and held it a few inches away from Sunday’s wing, all memories of the least intrusive methods coming to mind.

As you pressed the cloth against the surface, a sharp breath had made you halt.

“Forgive me.” Sunday muttered. “As you can tell, it’s... been a while.”

You nodded, all questions dying upon your tongue for the sake of his comfort, before gently dabbing the cloth against the spot, wiping away the bloody inequity and restoring his pristine visage.

Setting the cloth down on the desk, you smiled. “And... done.”

“Ah, thank you kindly.”

A small portion of your worry had ebbed away at in light of the relief in his voice, but returned with a vengeance once you remembered the sight of the disastrous floor from moments prior. As your gaze trailed away from him and towards the dark purple feathers that dotted the floor right next to those of cloudy white, Sunday’s gaze had soon followed.

Inquiries regarding their condition formulated themselves without much prompting within your mind, but you couldn’t dare speak them out loud.

Not when he had already been so stubborn over his first set of wings.

Not when he had already faltered so strongly in his breathing, a pattern you associated with immense discomfort.

In the absence of all conversation, you both tirelessly danced around the inevitable before something finally had to give.

“The festival has been, admittedly, more of a... project than I could’ve ever expected,” Sunday began, droning off with an awkward, tensed chuckle. “...and I suppose that, perhaps, amidst the madness of it all, the matter of my wings’ upkeep must’ve slipped my mind...”

“I... I see.” you acknowledged his words with a soft hum, accepting his unlikely-to-be-true excuse without further prompting.

Sunday sighed as his hands absentmindedly fidgeted with his gloves to smooth out an invisible crease, before he finally continued.

“The upkeep of a Halovian’s wings just hardly isn’t a thing to entrust so lightly to another being, you see, and I just, I...” his voice trailed off. 

The eyes that were once so keenly intent on scrutinizing the floor beneath his feet soon met yours.

Had you of been anyone else, you would've surely melted under his weary gaze, but no, quite frankly you couldn't and most definitely shouldn't, for you were merely his assistant, and such feelings must not be stoked by any such foolish thing-

“If I absolutely must trust another soul with such a hefty responsibility, I suppose it would indeed be you.” Sunday finally murmured.

You were startled, to say the least. Hurriedly, you gleaned for any signs of hesitance upon his features, finding nothing except a softness in his eyes that you prayed was not drawn from reverence.

“And you're sure of this, sir?”

Sunday hesitated, his expression unreadable before finally, he nodded.

As Sunday arose from his chair to stretch his stagnant muscles, intent on ridding himself of his white coat, he had reached for his shoulder with a barely-suppressed wince. Without thinking, you rushed over to his side, cupping the top of his shoulder with your palm, attempting to gently work off the sleeveless coat for him.

Seemingly frightened by the abrupt touch, Sunday breathed in sharply, hastily brushing your hand off of his shoulder before his picture-perfect poise could shatter.

“Please,” he murmured tersely, his hand still protectively grasping his clothing. “I believe I can handle doing this part myself.”

You nodded as you slowly stepped back, resting your treacherous hands at your sides.

As Sunday worked the snow-colored coat off of his shoulders, he grabbed the discarded garment and folded it into a neat square before putting it up on his desk, then focused on the silvery blazer that had laid beneath.

After a few moments spent fumbling with his multiple layers, Sunday was now stripped down to his dark turtleneck.

Your eyes fell upon the sight of the dark blue, wing-like vest that wrapped itself around his waist, and just as you were about to ask if they were yet another layer he had to remove, you froze once the ‘vest’ had shifted and twitched.

“Are those...?”

Sunday noted your confusion and shook his head, his fingers working diligently to unwrap the clinging, restrictive article of clothing.

What had twitched underneath the vest was a pair of deep purple wings, their plumes matching the pigments of what was strewn beneath you. As beautiful as the appendages were, the difference between their standard of upkeep compared the likes of which rested above his temples were like night and day.

A part of you wondered if, for whatever unspoken reason, he was ashamed of them.

The Halovian tensed under the weight of your prying gaze, trying to relax to force the dormant plumage awake as he averted his sight. “I know what you must be thinking,” he whispered, his voice taut from the effort. “...but I beg of you, please do not pry.”

Your heart ached at the way he struggled with the furled appendages.

“Do you... require assistance?”

“I...” Sunday fussed with the tight wrap once more, before reluctantly nodding. “I suppose.”

Your hands were quick to approach the wings, intent on massaging the tension out of their pinions so that they'd might unfurl.

The very moment a disgruntled, screechy craw from a raven rung from above, however, Sunday had faltered and hastily smoothened his garments back down, urging your hands to shy away.

You turned to face the direction of the sudden disruption, before tilting your head at Sunday, wondering why he seemed so distraught by the avian's call.

“Is there something wrong?”

“Yes, there is something wrong!” Sunday snapped, before his tone softened. “This... this is improper ! To have convinced myself to allow you to touch my primary wings was one thing, but this...” his voice broke off as he glanced down at his unsightly feathers. “...this... I truly never should've...”

A frown etched itself upon your lips at his sudden change of heart.

“I’m sorry, sir. I know a Halovian's wings are...” you hesitated, vividly recalling the multiple times he had recoiled at your touch. “...sensitive. I’ve studied handbooks once before, and-”

Surprise briefly flashed in his eyes at your admission, before his face hardened into a disapproving scowl the moment he interrupted you.

“You mean to tell me that you’ve studied handbooks upon such a topic, and yet still, you allow yourself to willingly fall victim to the whims of compliance over my foolish fallacies?” he sputtered, his tone abrasive. “You should've stopped me, for heaven’s sake!”

Irked by the criticism, you, too, began to bristle.

“If this truly is so wrong in your eyes, then did you really ever wish for my assistance?”

Startled by the bite in your words, Sunday bit back any further protests, swallowing down his anxious ire. Loneliness had been his home for so long, and your touch was nearly a dangerous siren's call—he couldn't truly bear the thought of losing such a privilege.

The puffed up, bristling feathers of Sunday’s higher wings smoothened themselves back down as he steadied himself, flexing his fingers against his palms.

“Please, just get on with it.”

“Thank you.” you whispered before leaning forward, your hands delicately palming the fragile cartilage of his wings as you tried to help them unbind themselves. Reluctantly, Sunday flexed them against your touch, trying to encourage them to spread.

“Still, this is all so... terribly insolent,” Sunday muttered through gritted teeth.

You stilled your efforts, desperately wishing you knew why he was so resistant to your assistance.

“Are you absolutely certain you want me to do this?”

Sunday winced from the loss of motion, the loss of blissful touch against the very surface that yearned for it, no less, and he was far too quick to nod his head.

“Yes, of course. Loathe as I am to confess such a thing, this... truly is a process that must be done,” he replied, his breath wavering. “It’s hardly your fault that I’ve been so... neglectful.”

As your hands tenderly helped work the cartilage to awaken, massaging the spots you figured must’ve been sore, it only took moments later for them to finally loosen from their protective stance.

Dark, raven-like wings, pigmented like the glimmering skies of midnight, had blossomed forth from Sunday’s sides and splayed themselves before you. Battered and bristled as they were, they were nonetheless a breathtaking view.

As the deep purple plumages fanned themselves out like curtains, you gaped with pity at the sight of the clipped plumes, the multiple defects marring an otherwise symmetrical pair of wings. A remark formulated itself upon your tongue, but died upon your lips once Sunday acknowledged your staring with a slight grimace, as if he could guess what you were nearly about to say.

You continued to stare at his fragile feathers with unwavering wonder.

“Your wings are truly beautiful, sir.” you whispered adoringly.

Sunday turned around to bare his back before you instead, swift enough to conceal the rush of both shame and bashfulness that had abruptly invaded his features.

Gently, you reached your hand forth and tentatively brushed against his plumage.

“Careful.” Sunday reminded you with a slight wince.

You nodded at his warning and reached for the cloth with your other hand, dabbing the damp material against any dried spots of blood where his plumes had fallen out, before placing it back down after you finished tending to them.

Your touch was light, delicate, as your fingertips mapped a path forged by concern against the surface of his wings, seeking out any broken feathers as you sought to soothe as many of his aches as you could.

Unbeknownst to you, your very touch was both a soothing balm for Sunday’s miseries and a temptatious instigator for a stirring within his very core.

Brushing past a sore spot located at the starting muscles of his wings had ripped a soft gasp from Sunday’s throat, and quickly, you stopped.

“Does it hurt?” you asked quietly.

“No, no, just...” he breathed out, distracting himself by how heavenly your hands had felt. “If you would just kindly massage them, that'd be-”

Before he could finish his sentence, you worked your thumbs carefully against the cartilage's base, inadvertently rendering him silent, save for a few tender, wavering breaths.

Your hands worked practical miracles against the bothersome likes of his tension, snuffing them out by the source as they brushed up and down the entirety of his wingspan, your body pressed close to his for better grounds.

As your breath cascaded upon the back of his neck, your fingers delved deeper against his muscles. “I hope this is enough...”

Sunday swallowed thickly at your closeness. “Oh, dearest assistant, you...” he paused, clearing his throat. “You haven’t the faintest idea how much of a blessing this is to me.”

Slowly but surely, Sunday’s ever faithful front of ‘perfection’ had bared its frayed threads before you and unraveled itself by its fragile seams, leaving the fate of his precious, oft-concealed vulnerability within your tender hands.

Every trembling breath at each pass of your hands, along with every visible tremor of his bones in wake of your care, had clawed further at your heart, constricting its cage with concern.

Weathered down by his responsibilities and blemished by the expectations placed upon his shoulders as he was, it was clear that he was blind to how thin he had worn down the wick of his perseverance—the very structure of his charitable soul.

Finally satisfied with the sight of relaxed feathers displayed before your very eyes, your hands had retreated back to your sides, and as sudden awareness of your close proximity washed over you like a rebuking flood, you hastily moved yourself away.

Sunday had turned around to face you, his pale skin flushed as he shifted his weight from side to side. The moonlight that filtered through the Pavilion's windows seemed to enhance his ethereal beauty, the glow of the evening catching upon his halo and permitting it to shimmer like an ever-glittering star.

“I must ask,” Sunday began quietly, his gaze fleeting about the room, from the candle, to the barely-sipped cup of tea, even to the untouched plate of strawberries. “Why did you do this all for me? Surely, there must be something you need in exchange...”

You shook your head and frowned at his words. Why did he believe an act of goodwill had such a price to pay?

With so many words you wanted to say and a plethora of woes over his wellbeing you wanted to profess, you held your tongue and swallowed down the bitter medley of trepidation, fearful of shattering the tenderness that graced this rare moment of solitude.

Surely, one day, there would come an opportunity where you could properly formulate all of your thoughts, but this night was far from being that night.

“It’s just that you’ve been working tirelessly these past few days in preparation for the Charmony Festival,” you began, eying the stack of paperwork that laid in a neat pile upon his desk, before turning back to him. “...and it seems to be my obligation to at least try to remind you to take a break.”

“I’m sure I would’ve remembered to take one eventually...” Sunday protested weakly, as if he himself hadn't believed his words.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Perhaps, once you’ve finally burnt yourself out.”

Sunday’s head wings lowered themselves with a meek display of shame upon being put under such conviction.

As his eyes flitted away from yours, far too sheepish to meet your perceptive gaze, you took a step forward and, without much thought behind your all too forward actions, you wrapped your arms delicately around his waist.

Feeling your familiar touch snake around his sides as it enveloped him into a warm, blissful embrace, Sunday stiffened.

You gulped as he tensed against your grasp.

“Forgive me,” you whispered an apology against his chest, careful to not overwhelm him with any further skin contact. “...you just looked as if you needed one.”

Sunday took a few moments to steady his breathing before responding. “I... suppose I did.”

You watched as, with trembling footsteps, Sunday dragged you both backwards, before stopping to allow himself to sit back down in his chair.

His gloved hands clenched at his sides before finding purchase on the tops of your shoulders, pushing you down so that you'd settle against his lap—adjusting you accordingly so it wouldn't look conspicuous—before finally reciprocating the hug.

Completely unsure of what to do with his hands, Sunday had freed one of them to lift your head up with a shaky palm, his cold glove a soothing touch against your chin.

With ever-softening glances being exchanged, the weight of so many unspoken confessions had hung in the balance of the room's silence, but to your surprise, you hardly minded at all. Sunday’s eyes were briefly drawn to your lips before he forced himself out of his stupor, resisting the deafening call of the tender temptation with a soft clearance of his throat.

It was for the best, however—you really weren't sure if you could've resisted the notion of leaning forward yourself.

You were startled as the top of Sunday's head brushed against the underside of your chin, leaning his face down so he could rest the side of his cheek against your chest, breathing softly as he melded himself close to you, cocooning you both together within the vast expanse of his wings.

“I... I truly thank the heavens upon every moment I remember that you're in my life,” Sunday murmured fondly.

Ignoring the abrupt, intrusive flutter in your chest, your arms strengthened the secure hold they possessed against his form.

“I feel much the same, Sunday.”

In the silence of the night, you held each other close, the beat of your own synchronized hearts as you clung to one another the only melody worth dwelling upon.

Even if you couldn't outright plead for him to be more mindful of his limits and capabilities—that his singular light was not enough to shoulder the burdens he subjected himself to, let alone be strong enough illuminate the entire sky—you were grateful that in your arms, he could find his ever-fleeting, redeeming solace.

In that moment, it was enough.

It had to be enough.

[bimbo-academy]

Bimbo Academy: Orientation Day

Please enjoy the first chapter of my first ever hypno story, Bimbo Academy!

Warning! This chapter has an induction with no awakener. If you're easily susceptible to that, I would not recommend reading this story.

The induction will be listed in pink.

Dialogue will be written in purple.

I hope you all enjoy!

“Deidre, could you come in here please?” 

Deidre hurried into her technical boss's office. 

For most people, this would be a terrifying ordeal. Their mind might run wild with possibilities of what was about to happen. Were they about to be fired? Demoted? Or worse, given extra tasks without the higher pay? 

But being the daughter of the CEO, Diedre didn’t have to worry about any of that. 

Diedre’s father had wanted to give her the company outright when she had first graduated college. She was supposed to be COO until her father was ready to retire, when she would then properly take over. 

But Deidre had insisted she start at the bottom. She wanted to rise the ranks on her own. Earn her way to the top instead of taking it like some sort of nepo baby. 

So far, she thought she had been doing a great job. 

She hoped her boss would agree. 

Deidre had been working at the office for six months. Hopefully, her boss was calling her in to discuss giving her a good performance review. 

“Yes, Miss Kathryn?” 

“Ah, Deidre. Please, sit.” 

Deidre quickly obeyed. She smoothed out her skirt and crossed her ankles, so she wouldn’t show Miss Kathryn anything inappropriate. 

“Deidre, let me start out by saying you’ve been doing a wonderful job in this position. You’re one of my hardest workers. You always get your work completed on time. You’re well organized, punctual, and professional.”

“Thank you, Miss Kathryn.” 

“I hope you don’t mind, but I went ahead and shared all of that with HR, and your father.” Miss Kathryn pulled out some papers and set them in front of her. “Your father, of course, was ecstatic. We had a small meeting, and we both thought it was high time to present you with a… special opportunity.”

Deidre nodded. Her father hadn’t said anything to her about this, but maybe he had wanted to make sure it went through the proper channels. 

“Have you ever heard of Brainbow Academy?”

Deidre shook her head. 

“Please, use your words Deidre.”

“I apologize. No, Miss Kathryn. I’ve never heard of it.” 

“It's a highly prestigious four month program. I believe one of your stepmothers went to it?”

Deidre wanted to laugh, but retained a professional composure. Most of her step-mothers were brain dead bimbos. She almost didn’t understand what her father saw in them. But he constantly told her that after her mother, and first stepmother, he couldn’t bear to lose another woman he truly loved. But then why would he want to go on to marry three more women, only to divorce them a few months later? At least her latest step mother had stuck around. She had to admit, Lana was secretly her favorite of her fathers recent wives. 

“Your father and I both think it would be an excellent idea for you to attend. Of course, it's ultimately up to you. But here’s the paperwork. Think about it over the weekend and get back to me, won’t you?” 

Deidre nodded and took the paperwork. “Thank you, Miss Kathryn.”

“Of course, Deidre. You may return to your duties now.” 

Deidre slid the papers into her messenger bag, and quickly returned to her work. 

…

That night, Deidre returned to the home she shared with her father, half brother, and their step mom, Lana. 

“Another day at the office?” Tommy, her half brother, asked. 

Deidre snorted. “Another day of doing nothing?”

“Hey! I do a lot of things! My influencer kingdom doesn’t run itself!”

Deidre rolled her eyes. Sure, her younger brother did have successful social media pages. But other than that he spent most of his days screwing around playing video games. Or screwing around with other guys. 

“Oh please. I bet all you did today was take a shirtless selfie and eat some pizza.”

“I had breadsticks too!” 

“Uh huh. I’m sure that was so strenuous for you.” 

Tommy playfully gives her the middle finger, then Lana called them down for dinner. 

They both trotted down the stairs and into the dining room. 

“There’s my wonderful family.” Deidre ignored her father grabbing Lana’s ass before sitting down for dinner. “How was everyone’s day?” 

“Good.” Deidre also ignored the Grindr notification going off on her brother’s phone. “Might have someone over tonight if that’s cool.”

“Of course. Just change the gate code when they leave.”

“Awesome. Thanks dad.”

“Of course. Deidre? How was your day? I heard you had a little meeting with Miss Kathryn.”

Deidre nodded. “Yeah. She recommended some sort of program I should attend?”

“Oh yes. Brainbow Academy. Lana actually did that program, didn’t you sweetheart?”

“Mhm!” 

Her father chuckled and kissed Lana’s hand. “I would love it if you attended Deidre. I think it would be extremely helpful for your future running the company. But of course, it’s all up to you.”

“I think I want to go. Although, I’m just confused about this one part of the paperwork? The ‘I consent to allowing Brainbow Academy to alter me in any way, whether it be physically, mentally, or spiritually?” 

“Oh, that just means they want to try and change your mindset! They also have some classes about how to dress more… professionally. That’s truly all it means.”

“Alright then. I suppose I’ll do it. I mean, I already know about most of that stuff, right?”

“Absolutely.”

After dinner, Deidre went back to her room, and officially signed the papers. 

…

A week later, Deidre arrived at her dormitory for Brainbow Academy. 

“Oh… interesting.” 

The dorm room was… unusual to say the least. There were two beds, but they were much larger than any other dorm bed she had ever slept in. They seemed much more comfortable than regular dorm beds as well. There also seemed to be much more storage than a typical dorm room. There was a large display cabinet, a desk with multiple drawers, and the nightstand drawers were the largest Deidre had ever seen. 

Well, it was an exclusive academy. Deidre was one of only twelve students that had been accepted for this semester. She knew it was only on recommendation from her father, Lana, and Miss Kathryn, especially since she had applied so close to the deadline. 

“Oh, wow,” 

She turned around and saw a young man, about her age, standing in the doorway. 

“I know, right? It's unusual to say the least.”

“It certainly is.” The young man set down his one box. “I’m Trevor. I guess we’re going to be roommates?” 

“Deidre. Do you need any help with the rest of your stuff?”

“Oh, uh… no. This, this is all I have.” 

“Oh! I’m, I’m sorry-I,’

“No no, it's ok.” Trevor sat down on his bed. “I’m just a light traveler I suppose.” 

Deidre nodded. She could tell something was weighing on Trevor's mind, but she didn’t want to press so early into their relationship. 

“We should unpack as much as we can. Orientation starts in half an hour.” He said. 

The two chit-chatted as they unpacked, Deidre’s things filling the room where Trevor’s was lacking. They were laughing together by the time they entered the lecture hall, which was more like a high school gym than anything else. They went to sit down next to each other, before someone grabbed the back of Deidre’s collar and pulled her back.

“Sorry, I want the end seat.” 

A bottle blonde girl sauntered to the other end. Diedre heard Trevor mutter ‘bitch’ underneath his breath. She playfully smacked him.

“Ouch! What was that for? It’s true!” 

Deidre rolled her eyes. They sat down a few seats away from the bottle blonde and watched the others file in. Deidre noticed that Trevor was the only boy present. She hoped it wouldn’t be too awkward for him. 

“Welcome students, welcome, welcome!” An older gentleman took the stage in front of them. “Welcome everyone. My name is Master Layton. Thank you all for joining us here. Now, I do want to apologise. I fear a lot of you have been misled about what it is we do here.” Master Layton held a small remote in his hand. He pressed a button, and small pieces of metal shot out of the seats, trapping everyone’s arms against their seats. 

“What the hell?” Deidre said. 

“I would now like to introduce my most lovely assistants, Bree and Gracie. Ladies?”

Two scantily clad women joined the man on stage. He pressed another button on his remote and a screen slowly descended from the ceiling. 

“Bree, Gracie, and I are going to be your professors for this semester. Of course we will have a few guest speakers come in, but for the most part you will be under our care.” 

The woman descended from the stage, and Deidre noticed they were each holding six pairs of headphones. 

“I also apologize for this rapid induction, but over the years I’ve found that it works best with large groups of people. Wouldn’t you agree, ladies?”

“Yes Master.”

The women spoke in an eerie harmony. Deidre had been struggling against the restraints, but now noticed Trevor had been perfectly still. 

“Trevor? Do you know what’s going on?” 

Trevor closed his eyes as one of the women placed a pair of headphones over his ears. He seemed… relieved?

Deidre didn’t understand. 

“Trevor? Trevor, no! No don't you dare put those on me! I dont con-”

The woman laughed, cutting her off. “But you already consented! You signed the papers, remember silly?”

Shit. Shit shit shit. 

She continued to struggle as the woman placed headphones over her ears. Master Layton pressed another button on his remote, and caused a black and white spiral to flicker to life on the screen. 

‘I am a good girl. I will obey my master.’

The voice coming through the headphones startled her. 

“What the hell is going on?”

‘I am a good girl. I will obey my master.’ 

She looked all around. But for some reason, her eyes kept continuing to land on the spiral.

‘I am a good girl. I will obey my master.’ 

Deidre continued to struggle against her restraints.

‘I am a good girl. I will obey my master.’ 

She tried to get the headphones off, to no avail. 

‘I am a good girl. I will obey my master.’ 

She tried to close her eyes. But somehow, she still saw the spiral. 

“I am a good boy. I will obey my master.”

She opened her eyes again. The voice hadn’t come from her headphones. 

“I am a good boy. I will obey my master.” 

The two ladies came and released Trevor from his bonds. They led him through a new door Deidre hadn’t noticed coming in. 

‘I am a good girl. I will obey my master.’ 

Fuck. 

‘I am a good girl. I will obey my master.‘

One by one, more of the women in the room began to repeat the mantra. 

‘I am a good girl. I will obey my master.’ 

One by one, they were led out of the room.

‘I am a good girl. I will obey my master.’

Soon it was just Deidre and the bottle blonde bitch. 

‘I am a good girl. I will obey my master.’ 

“Shhh, its ok.” One of the women came and started petting Deidre’s hair. 

‘I am a good girl. I will obey my master.’

“Just give in. It’ll be so much better.”

No no no no no-

“You’re a good girl. You will obey our master.” The woman held her head, and forced her to look at the spiral.

‘I am a good girl. I will obey my master.’

‘I am a good girl. I will obey my master.’

‘I am a good girl. I will obey my master.’

“I am a good girl. I will obey my master.”

Deidre didn’t even notice when the words came out of her mouth. 

“Good girl. Just a few more minutes now.”

‘I am a good girl. I will obey my master.’

“I am a good girl. I will obey my master.”

‘I am a good girl. I will obey my master.’

“I am a good girl. I will obey my master.”

‘I am a good girl. I will obey my master.’

“I am a good girl. I will obey my master.”

“I am a good girl. I will obey my master.”

“I am a good girl. I will obey my master.” 

The women finally released Deidre from her bonds and took her through the door. 

“Good, good. Very good.”

“Thank you, Master.”

Master took Deidre’s head in his hands. 

“You’re going to be a good girl for me, aren’t you Dee?”

“Yes Master.”

Master kissed Dee’s forehead. 

“Good girl. Sleep now.”

Dee slumped over in the women’s arms.

[heyaheiya]

hi sweetie, I love your work (◍•ᴗ•◍)

here's my request: pro hero katsuki x influencer quirkless reader. like how started the relationship and maybe some headcanon like hand placement, if there's pda in some events or awards, what he would answer if some1 ask him about his relationship, etc.

I hope you like my request, thank u and have a great day 💗

Omg I love the idea of katsuki with a famous non pro hero partner.

You were surprisingly popular for what you did. Makeup tutorials, reviews, grwms, ootd, vlogs. A part of your popularity was how it seemed you lived the dream life, inspiring teens all across Japan to strive for your aesthetic. (Wonyoungism lmfao).

You officially met Katsuki when you were asked to be the main interviewer on this year's annual Pro Hero Billboard Chart red carpet. When you read the email offering you this once in a lifetime opportunity, you slammed your laptop closed and sped walked laps around your bedroom. You were just a random person who posted silly footage of themselves. But now you were going to be on national TV, being on screen with the most famous faces of Japan. You were shitting yourself.

The company in charge of everything didn't really give you anything to prepare, not terrifying at all!! You spent days researching the heroes, trying to dig deep to find actually interesting things, rather than the repetitive "What made you want to be a hero?". A part of you really wanted to find embarrassing and creepily personal things to entertain the audience, but you quickly found there was a reason why you weren't a detective. 3 days straight, you attempted to stalk the heroes, and nothing. NOTHING!

The event was coming up quickly, and you had absolutely nothing. Your thick stack of cards, all decorated with the iconic design, were blank. You cried for 7 hours.

Eventually, you wrote down some questions, but rereading them, they were the most pathetic excuses for questions ever. You were spiralling. The next day, you were probably going to bomb, have no chemistry with any of the heroes, broadcasting hours upon hours of awkward tension, ruining your reputation and career, destroying the image you had spent years creating for yourself. You cried. A lot.

With a blink of the eye, you were at the red carpet, all dolled up, with less confidence than ever before. Great. The first hero you were stuck with was Deku. You assumed production noticed your panic and decided to throw you a bone.

"So, Deku, if you had to describe your pre-hero days with one word, what would it be?"

"Hmm," he took a second to think, "Bad."

Huh. No, Deku, No!! You were supposed to be the easy one! You cried internally.

"What? A nice, handsome boy like you? I bet you were popular in middle school!"

"I was bullied horrifically."

Damn.

Eventually, you'd managed to get past Deku, Red Riot, Sun Eater, and more. And it was awful. Just one more until your break. Just one more.

Praying to get an easy one, out walks Dynamight. Why do you hate me, God????

He was tall, brooding, and bad with interviews. You were hoping he'd just kill you so you wouldn't have to live with the memory of fucking up infront of the country.

"So- Dynamight. What inspired that name?" Fake it till you make it ig. You grit your teeth in discomfort.

There's a long pause before:

"Dynamite."

"Yeah, what inspired it?"

"Dynamite."

"Dude I just wanna go home, please don't make this harder."

"FUCK! DYNAMIGHT COMES FROM THE ENGLISH WORD DYNAMITE! I JUST CHANGED THE SPELLING OF "MITE" TO "MIGHT" CAUSE ALL MIGHTS FUCKING COOL AS FUCK!"

"Don't yell at me! :("

Dynamight's PR team advised him to keep his answers short and to hold in his anger until he was off screen. You'd assumed he'd been holding in his sass for the past 5 hours, so it was only natural he'd blow up soon. (Like dynamite lol)

As soon as you got home from that shit show, you quickly noticed how your name was trending on twitter.

Welp, time to see how badly I ruined my career. Goodbye fame, it's not like I spent years on you..

You slowly scrolled through your tag, skimming the posts about you. However, the more you read, the more you realised people didn't hate you. In fact, the most popular video of the night was you and Dynamight's interview. And people were.. SHIPPING YOU???

You avoided anything and everything for around a week, not even opening your blinds to let in the light. The only contact you had through those 7 days was your ugly orange cat. That was until you got a knock at your door.

That's weird, I only ordered food 2 minutes ago.

You pulled the door open, saw Katsuki, and slammed it back closed, a tuft of his fluffy blond getting stuck between the door and the frame.

"FUCK ME DEAD!"

"Sorry!!"

You yanked the door back open and looked up at the man. The commotion made your cat, Miso, perk up in fear and scratch at the tall beast of a man.

"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST! First you avoid me like the plague, then you assault the shit out of me!"

"I'm so so sorry (ToT)"

------

Headcanon time 😼😼:

This man has his hands around your waist 24/7.

However, in the privacy of your own homes, he'd be a massive cunt and keep you in a headlock, knowing you can't do anything about it. He'd stop in a second if you asked him to.

At first, he wasn't big on pda. He felt it ruined his tough guy reputation. But his PR team begged him to keep a hand on you at all times, noticing how it kept his hashtag trending. Although he makes a big fuss, he secretly likes showing you off to everyone, and showing how you're all his.

Whenever he's asked about you, he insults the shit out of you.

"Huh, y/n? Never heard of them."

"They're an influencer? Yeah, no I only keep up with actual relevant people."

He means it with love. And he makes sure you know it, smothering you with love when he gets home.

Despite him bullying you about your only real job being promoting brands in your videos, he constantly buys you stuff. You make sure to show them off in your vlogs too.

Hope you enjoyed <33333

[tateypots]

His Favourite Holiday

Joel x f!reader

Word Count 4.9K

18+ MDNI NON-CON

Summary: Being a ghost is super boring until a little Halloween power surge means Joel can finally get his hands on you.

A/N: I know this won’t be for everyone so please heed the warnings before reading, please protect yourself, I am not responsible for what you consume on the internet. Let me know if I missed anything. Written for @mermaidgirl30 Jamie’s Halloween Writing Challenge

TW: non-consensual voyeurism, masturbation (m and f), mentions of death and being dead, haunting, non-consensual groping, non-consensual fingering, non-consensual oral (f receiving), non-consensual piv, non-consensual cream pie.

_____________________________________________

Death was nothing like Joel had expected. It was, to put it mildly, excruciatingly dull. He hadn’t been entirely sure what would happen to him after his body finally gave up on him. He’d given up on the notion of God the night he’d lost Sarah, and with that any thought of heaven and hell went out of the window for him too. He supposed he’d been hoping for peace. That he finally might rest easy. No such luck. Instead he found himself aimlessly wandering around Jackson, watching his family and friends and neighbours carry on with their lives, unable to influence the world around him. To himself he still felt solid so it had been quite the shock the first time someone walked right through him. He still wasn’t quite used to that all these months later.

At first he had refused to accept his insubstantiality. Trying hard day after day to move something, knock a bottle off a table, tug back a curtain, give Tommy a quick swat to the back of the head. Anything to make himself known. If he could do that he could be useful he thought to himself. A tireless guardian keeping watch by the gates, able to alert the guards to anything they’d missed. But nothing ever happened, his hand just sinking right through whatever it was he was aiming at.

When he finally gave up hope of ever being able to interact with the world again he began occupying himself by spying on the townsfolk. Although now he supposed it was less spying and more haunting. But life within the walls of Jackson wasn’t all that exciting. The odd fight breaking out over imagined slights and misunderstandings and the occasional scandal of infidelity. He wished he could go out on a patrol but he was bound within the walls of Jackson, anytime he’d tried to leave he’d found himself ricocheted back to the square right in the centre of town.

He kept mostly to the public places. Only ever entering the homes he’d been invited inside while he was alive, some vestige of decency still clinging to him, not wanting to violate the privacy of his neighbours too far. It didn’t leave him too many options, having never made that many connections while he’d been breathing. Really it was only Tommy or Ellie’s homes that he ever found himself in. But he could never stomach to stay long. The ache that came with watching them was almost too much to bear.

So for months he carried on with his boring, lonely existence, no purpose and nothing to look forward to. Until you arrived.

Your arrival was the most noteworthy thing to happen to Jackson since his own demise, and to Joel, bored out his mind and bitter with frustration you were a shining beacon of hope. Someone new, a change to the dull routine he’d been forced into. It didn’t hurt that he found you painfully attractive, your soft curves and pretty face lighting a fire in him that he never thought he’d feel again.

You’d been picked up on patrol and brought back, you seemed a sweet shy thing, all wide eyed wonder and mumbled gratitude. You clearly thought Jackson was too good to be true, he saw you pinch yourself multiple times in an attempt to convince yourself you weren’t dreaming. And when Maria brought you to your new home, a small one bed cottage near the outskirts of town, he broke his rule and followed you inside, desperate to learn more about you.

After a quick tour and promise to return later to take you to the dining hall Maria departed. Joel did not. He watched you mill from room to room, getting your bearings. He followed you into the bathroom and watched as you turned the shower on. You squealed with excitement at feeling the water turn warm, shucking your clothes like they were hurting you and diving under the stream.

The moan you released when the warm water hit your skin made his dick twitch. He didn’t know it could do that anymore, but then you turned and he got an eyeful of your beautiful, glistening tits and his cock was at full mast almost immediately. Instinctively he reached into his pants and grabbed hold of his throbbing erection, giving it an experimental stroke. God it felt good. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t tried this since he found himself in this new state of being, but then, he hadn’t had much to get excited over. Until now.

He moved closer, watching as you ran a sudsy washcloth over your glorious body, stroking himself in a steady rhythm. Fat droplets of water cascading down your tits and over your nipples made his mouth water. God what he wouldn’t give to suckle them. To suck that supple flesh into his mouth, kiss and bite and mark them, hear you moaning and whimpering under him.

You turned and bent down to wash your legs and feet, putting your pussy on full display for him. The groan he released, had it been audible, would have rattled the windows with its volume and intensity. It was so pretty and perfect. He couldn’t stop his free hand from shooting out as if to caress your folds but of course his hand sank right through your flesh. Biting back his disappointment at not being able to touch you he focused his gaze back on your body. Gazed longingly at your little hole, noting how much of a struggle it would be to force his big, throbbing cock into it, dreaming of how tight it would clench him.

You stood back up and positioned yourself back under the water, releasing a dreamy sigh of contentment that was enough to push Joel over the edge. He came hard, the thrill rushing through him like he’d been struck by lightning. He watched as phantom jets of cum fired onto to your belly only to disappear almost immediately. Well at least he didn’t have to worry about clean up. Being dead did have some perks after all.

Joel couldn’t help the small wave of guilt that washed over him. For using you so unabashedly for his own pleasure. But as he watched you carry on with your shower, completely unaware of his presence he decided it wasn’t doing you any harm and he needed this. What you didn’t know couldn’t hurt you. And this was the best he’d felt since he died.

And so Joel gave up on his feigned interest in the rest of the town and focused himself solely on you. He followed you everywhere, watched as you settled into Jackson, started work, made a few friends. And every night he’d follow you home and jerk off as he watched you shower before following you into your room to watch you sleep. You were so goddamn beautiful, he could sit and stare at you for hours and never be bored. And just like that Joel’s misery morphed into joy.

One night after a particularly busy shift in the Tipsy Bison, you headed straight for your bedroom once you finally made it home, stripping your clothes and pulling on the oversized t-shirt you wore to sleep. Joel was devastated to be robbed of his nightly relief, and also a little angry. He needed it, you were being incredibly selfish he thought, seemingly forgetting that you were not in fact willingly sharing your body with him, as if you had any idea at all of his presence.

He paced backwards and forwards at the foot of your bed, all pent up rage and frustration when you released a breathy moan, stopping him in his tracks. His head snapped towards you, lying on the bed, your legs bent at the knees and spread wide, your middle finger drawing light little circles on your clit. “That’s more like it,” he thought, his cock jumping to attention. He positioned himself right between your legs, hand around his cock. He watched every move you made, committing to memory all the things you liked, the movements that made you gasp and moan as he pumped up and down his cock. He watched as you teased yourself, building up speed and pressure before backing off and slowing down. You did this a couple of times before sliding your fingers down to your leaking pussy, rubbing faintly over your lips before plunging two fingers in deep. Joel couldn’t take his eyes off you as you began to pump them in and out releasing small whimpers when you let your thumb catch your clit with every inward stroke.

“You’re doing so good for me baby, keep going,” he growled at you, desperate to see what you look like when you come. “My fingers would feel so much better in there honey, I wish I could show you.” He could tell you were getting close as your breathing grew ragged and your moans grew louder. He tugged his cock in a frenzy, wanting to finish with you.

Your hips bucked off the bed and you let out a deep, long moan as your climax hit you. Joel was enthralled as he watched your body jerk and your cheeks flush, watched your slick, leaking hole clench around your fingers. With a final stroke of his cock he peaked, his cum landing over your pussy and hand before disappearing.

“Jesus baby, you’re incredible,” he praised as you slumped down on your bed, exhausted. You were asleep within seconds, forgetting even to turn off the bedside lamp.

_____________________________________________

As the months passed Joel’s obsession with you only grew. He’d only noticed the summer ending and the changing weather through the change in your clothes. Summer dresses replaced with jeans and sweaters. Joel mourned for the warmer weather and the extra glimpses of your soft skin it afforded. Not that he didn’t get to see every inch of you every day but still. He only realised Halloween was approaching when you brought home a small pumpkin, scooped out the delicate flesh and carved the carcass into a jack-o-lantern to place on your front porch. You spent the rest of the evening sewing some triangles of stiff fabric onto a headband to look like cat ears.

Joel had always loved Halloween. It had been his favourite holiday in the before, always choosing him and Sarah matching costumes to take her trick or treating, plotting out a route beforehand to hit the houses with the best candy first. Returning home and dutifully rationing out some candy for her before stealing some of the best bits once she was finally asleep, only to be told off in the morning when she realised some of her stash was missing.

The next morning you dressed yourself in a black jumper dress, drew a little nose and some whiskers on your face and topped it off with your headband and a ribbon around your neck to act as a collar. Joel stood behind you as you appraised your outfit in the mirror, “prettiest kitty I ever saw honey,” he told you.

“Huh?!” You spun around to take in the empty room, sure you’d heard a faint whisper. But of course, the room was empty.

“Can you hear me honey?”

There it was again. You ducked your head out into the hallway but still couldn’t see anything. “Hello, is someone there?”

“Yes honey, it’s me.” Joel was shouting now, following you as you moved down the hall into the living room, desperate for you to hear him. Just as you entered the living room a blur of black plummeted in front of you making you scream and jump back, only to realise it was your next door neighbour’s cat Toby, jumping off the bookcase he’d clearly been sleeping on.

“Jesus Toby, you scared the shit out of me,” you huffed, bending to pick up the meowing cat, “how’d you get in here, did you follow me in last night? Naughty boy, lets get you home.”

You walked out the door, cat in your arms, the faint whispers of Joel’s bellowing drowned out by your own voice and Toby’s contented purrs. You walked next door and knocked, stroking and kissing Toby’s head while you waited for Joan to answer.

“Hello deary,” she greeted you cheerfully, “oh Toby, have you been causing trouble?”

“Ha well, other than scaring me half to death he’s been a perfect house guest. He musta followed me in last night, sorry Joan.”

“Maybe you just caught his attention in that get up,” she cackled.

“Oh God, I totally forgot,” you groaned, “everyone working the Bison today is getting dressed up, thought it would be fun you know?”

“Well you certainly look the part, it’s a great costume. I’ll maybe swing by to see what costume Seth has picked out,” she chuckled winking at you and taking a content Toby from your arms, “thanks for bringing him back deary, I’ll let you get on.”

“See you later.”

Joel followed you silently to the dining hall. He was sure you’d almost heard him back at the house but there was no way you’d hear him now, surrounded by the hustle and bustle of the busy town. It was so strange, why now after all this time? Maybe all the nonsense about Halloween wasn’t such nonsense after all? Maybe the veil between the living and the dead really was weakest today. Lost in his thoughts trying to remember all the old wives tales he’d heard about Halloween, he didn’t realise you had stopped in line to get your breakfast and he walked through you. But whereas normally he passed through the living like he was nothing but air, today he felt…resistance. Like he was viscous and had to force himself through you. Turning around he watched you shudder and a crooked smile graced his face. Maybe today he could have some real fun.

As you ate your breakfast he experimented with the items on the table. As with when he passed through you, anytime he pushed his hand against an object he felt an unusual resistance but the items remained steadfastly and disappointingly still on the table. But he refused to give up. And it’s not like he had much else pencilled in for today so he heaved a sigh and kept trying.

Once you were done he followed you like a faithful dog over to the Tipsy Bison. Letting yourself in you got to work straight away, hanging decorations round the walls of the bar, strings of paper spider webs and little bats and pumpkins that the kids in school had been making all week. Joel positioned himself at the end of the bar, watching you work as he half-heartedly tried to push the glass in front of him onto the floor.

Just as you finished you knocked the bag that had contained the decorations onto the floor, torn fragments of paper spilling from it and littering the floor like confetti.

“Ah crap,” you muttered to yourself, disappearing behind the bar for a moment reappearing with a dustpan and brush. You bent from your waist and vigorously started sweeping up the mess giving Joel a perfect view of your tits bouncing in your low cut dress. His dick twitched and the glass he’d been swatting at for the last half an hour sailed off the bar and smashed into the wall opposite.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard it smash. Trying to calm your breathing you wandered over to look at the broken glass now littering the floor, glancing around uneasily. Joel followed suit, in shock at what had just happened. “Fuck yeah baby, that’s what I’m talking about!” he yelled out causing you to jump once again, spinning round and once again being confronted by an empty space.

“He-hello. Who’s there?” you called out, backing your way behind the bar and retrieving the baseball bat Seth kept hidden there for in case folks got too rowdy. You circled the entire room, checking the toilets and the back room only to find them empty. You wandered back into the bar, bat still in hand but now hanging by your side.

“Oh honey, I ain’t gonna hurt you sweet thing,” Joel whispered right in your ear just as the bar door burst open and you swung the bat wildly in that direction.

“Jesus, what the fuck?!” Alex yelped, barely jumping back from the violently swinging bat, her witches hat falling from her head.

“God Alex I’m so sorry, something really fucking weird is happening. The glass flew off the bar and smashed and I’ve been hearing this whispering all day and I got this really weird feeling in the dining hall this morning…” you babbled out almost incoherently.

She considered you for a moment and then a smile broke out over her face, “you almost had me there for a second,” she giggled, “I admire your dedication to the bit, very convincing, you really do look terrified. Did Seth put you up to this?” She moved over to the bar and began getting organised.

“Alex I’m serious, something weird is going on.”

“Yeah ok, ok, look, I’ll tell Seth I believed you, that you gave me a good scare. I know how seriously he takes his pranks. I won’t let on that I figured you out straight away.”

“Alex…”

“You should probably clean that glass up, people will be coming in soon and we don’t want people to get hurt.”

You heaved out a sigh and replaced the bat behind the bar. She wasn’t going to believe you. And if you were honest with yourself, if someone had told you those same things you too would have taken it for nothing but a Halloween prank. Or that the person was crazy. You tried to put it out of your mind and got on with cleaning up.

Joel was brimming with joy. Oh he was going to have so much fun today. He kept practicing moving objects. More carefully now, not aiming to draw attention to himself again just yet. He pushed pictures slightly askew around the room, shuffled beer mats slightly around tables. All little controlled movements. It got easier each time. Like muscle memory building. Brimming with confidence he sidled up behind you as you cleaned a table, reaching his hand around you he hovered for a second before scooping your tit in his hand and giving it a firm squeeze.

Your yelp of surprise mixed with his groan of pleasure in his ears, he was fit to combust. Yanking his pants down he jerked off in the middle of the Tipsy Bison, coming embarrassingly quickly at the memory of the way your flesh had given under his hand, so soft and yielding. Fucking flawless.

Lost in his own little bubble he only caught the end of Alex admonishing you for continuing with the prank before turning to open the doors of the bar. Joel felt a wave of guilt as he took in your clearly overwrought appearance, your bottom lip trapped between your bottom teeth, swollen and raw from being chewed, your hands trembling as you gathered your cleaning materials and hurried behind the bar. He didn’t want to scare you. He wanted to make you feel good. He just hadn’t been able to help himself, finally able to make physical contact the draw of your sweet body had been too much for him. He had to have you and today might be his only chance. But he could back off for now. Give you a breather and allow you to settle your nerves. He couldn’t fuck you here after all. Still wasn’t entirely sure it would be possible at all but he was closer than he’d ever been. He’d waited all these long months, he could wait a few more hours.

So he kept the hijinks to a low level, continuing to practice moving items when no one was watching. He stayed in the bar and as it got busier you seemed to settle, your mind occupied with the regular hum-drum of your daily routine. You definitely seemed less on edge now that the strange occurrences seemed to have stopped.

Joel noticed as the day went on that he felt better and better. Stronger, invigorated. Moving items now came to him with ease, he was more and more convinced that tonight he’d get to have you. Finally. He felt giddy at the notion. So by the time the end of your shift rolled around he was impatient in his eagerness, shouldering people out of his way as he followed you towards the door, the bar busy enough that no one batted an eyelid at the jostling he caused.

“You’re not staying for a drink?” Alex asked as she spotted you heading out.

“I don’t know, it’s been a weird day. I might have a nap and see how I feel later.”

Alex rolled her eyes at you, “whatever grandma, enjoy your nap.”

Once you made it home you ran up the porch steps and hurriedly locked the door behind you, unable to shake the uneasiness you had felt since the morning. You checked every room, every cupboard, under the bed, every potential hiding place. Nothing seemed out of place. You listened, straining your ears to hear something. Joel watched the entire thing with a smirk on his face, staying resolutely quiet so as not to alarm you. Finally confident that you were alone you headed to the bathroom and jumped in the shower. Joel was fit to burst. But he didn’t want to take you in the shower, he wanted you in your bed, comfortable, where he could worship you for hours. So for now he contented himself with once again stroking himself to completion as he admired you.

Shower finished you headed for your bedroom wrapped in a towel. This was it, finally. Joel came up behind you and skimmed his lips along your neck. You yelped and spun round, to be confronted once again with an empty room. Tears gathered on your waterline, fear finally getting the better of your frayed nerves.

“Wh-whose th-there,” you stammered out.

That faint whispering caught your ears again. Slightly clearer than this morning. It sounded like laughing. A chill ran down your spine just as your towel was ripped from you and you were propelled backwards onto the bed.

Joel was hard as a rock as he looked at you splayed out on the bed, whimpering. He felt bad for scaring you but not bad enough to stop. He had to have you, he’d make it up to you. You’d calm down after a few orgasms, after he showed you how good he could make you feel.

He manhandled you on the bed so your head was lying on the pillows. Spreading your legs he kneaded and massaged the meat of your thighs as he admired your pretty little pussy up close.

“Stop, please stop,” you sobbed out. Joel gave one last devilish smirk before diving in, his flattened tongue running the full length of your folds before starting to flick at your clit. You couldn’t hold back the moan as Joel worked your little bud, your back arching as he sucked it into his mouth. Joel’s cock began to throb at the sight and sound of your pleasure. You writhed and wriggled and tried to pull away but Joel held you firmly in place, his arms clamped tight around your thighs.

His tongue left your clit and was immediately replaced with his thumb, rubbing small circles like he’d watched you do so many times. His tongue worked down through your folds back to your little hole which was now starting to glisten with the beginnings of your arousal. He plunged it inside of you, working it around your walls. Joel was elated to find he could taste you, sweet and tangy, albeit somewhat muted. After so long of not tasting anything it was heavenly, but how he wished he’d got to do this with his living tongue. Experience you fully.

He increased the pressure on your clit, before fucking you with his tongue at a desperate pace. You climaxed so beautifully for him, screaming out your peak while your body shuddered and slick gushed into his waiting mouth.

You sobbed uncontrollably as he climbed up your body, placing wet kisses over your mound and belly up to your heaving tits. Gathering the beautiful mounds in his hands he squeezed, revelling in their softness, the pliant feel of them in his hands. Groaning at finally getting his hands on them he sucked one nipple into his mouth, licking and grazing with his teeth as he pinched and rubbed the other with his forefinger and thumb before swapping sides and repeating the motions.

You moaned between sobs, fighting hard against the arousal that was being forced onto you. You were confused and terrified but your treacherous body was enjoying the sensations being showered upon you, arousal seeping out of your pussy and soaking your folds.

Still attached to your tit with his mouth, Joel’s hand stroked back down your body, grazing over your sensitive clit before moving down and circling your entrance.

“No, please no,” you begged, unable to see who or what was attacking you, all you felt was an impending intrusion, your fear spiking as you were breached. Your breathing hitched at the stretch, another uncontrollable moan escaping from your throat.

“There we go,” he mumbled around a mouthful of breast, “told you my fingers would feel good in there.” That faint whispering driving you crazy, just on the verge of being intelligible.

He pumped two fingers in and out before adding a hooking motion, searching for the spot that would have you seeing stars. You keened when he finally located it, your full body jerking at the sensation. No one had ever hit it before and you were reeling at how good it felt, your fear momentarily forgotten as all you could focus on was the pleasure radiating from your stimulated G Spot. Joel built up the speed of his thrusts, hitting that perfect spot every time. Your orgasm hit you like a freight train, your vision going white as your cunt clenched around Joel’s fingers, wave after wave of pleasure surging through you.

“That’s it honey, good girl. Oh that was a big one wasn’t it, you’re doing so good for me sweet girl.” He continued to finger you through your high, only removing his digits when he felt you go limp underneath him. He peppered your face with kisses as he positioned himself for the main event.

Taking his cock in his hands he notched it at your entrance and immediately pushed himself inside you with one decisive thrust. You screamed, the stretch and burn almost unbearable, even after two orgasms. You once again tried to wrestle and wriggle your way free but Joel lay atop you fully, trapping you underneath him. He didn’t move, giving you a chance to adjust to him. He was a lot to take and he remembered how small your little hole had looked compared to his cock on that first day.

As your pussy began to accept the intrusion and your muscles began to relax around him the fight left you. Exhausted and spent you stopped struggling and lay submissively underneath whatever you were being violated by, your now silent tears trickling down your face.

In an attempt to soothe you Joel pressed soft kisses onto your temple and hair as he began rocking his hips gently. You felt so fucking good, the velvet walls of your tight pussy sucking him in and gripping his cock deliciously. He groaned out as he began to increase the pace and intensity of his thrusts, mesmerised by the bounce of your tits each time he plunged himself inside of you.

“Feel so good honey, I knew you would, so fucking good, ohhhhh.” He hooked his arm under your knee, pushing it up to your chest to open you up further, letting him sink deeper inside. By now his pace was punishing, pounding into you and angling his hips to hit that special spot again and again. You were going to come on his cock. He had to know how it felt, sure it would better than any imagining his brain could conjure. He knew you were close, could feel your pussy beginning to flutter around him. Reaching a hand between you he once again found your clit, rubbing over it and drawing a moan from you. It wasn’t long until you were screaming for him again, your pussy clenching so good around him it sent him over the edge, pulsing with ecstasy as he came inside you with a roar of deep satisfaction.

Exhausted by your ordeal you were asleep before Joel pulled out of you. He stood off the bed and ran his gaze lustfully over you. He checked the clock next to your bed. Only 7pm. 5 hours of Halloween left. He smirked as he turned back to your sleeping form. He’d give you a little respite but he wasn’t done with you yet. It turned out Halloween was still his favourite holiday.

[randomstoryenjoyer]

(It's fine if you don't want to do this but-)

Can. I please request a Pitaya, Ananas and Longan. Cookie with a dying reader in there hands who only smiled up at them telling them there last words to take care of themselves, stay safe, and not continue being(insert one of the dragon's flaw) and they love them and kissed hem before they went to the other side?

(PS: GN Reader and the fact Pitaya, Longan and Ananas Cookie is panicking about there S/O leaving them wanting to save them but fails)

“Please, Pitaya… take care of yourself, stay safe… and please don’t be so belligerent to everyone else anymore. Treat them with kindness like the one you treated me with… I love you”

This would be one of the few times Pitaya Dragon Cookie would shown any other emotion besides excitement, anger, or the unquenchable desire for a good fight. Ever since Pitaya Cookie had met their beloved, their original thoughts about weak little pieces of dough called cookies had started to change, though they couldn’t properly understand why their thoughts were being influenced so greatly ever since they had laid their eyes upon you. What Pitaya Dragon Cookie started understanding, however, was the feelings that they felt towards you specifically. They liked these feelings! They found themselves becoming attached to you like they never had to anybody else before, and your presence became even more endearing when you actually began to reciprocate their feelings as well! Life was greater than ever for them with you by their side, providing him with something else to look forward to besides endless sparring with anybody they wanted to.

But you can’t expect to last long in a relationship with the fearsome red dragon themselves…

Maybe the endless sweltering heat present within Pitaya’s lair finally caught up to you, maybe they got too careless in during one of their sparring matches and ‘trainings’, or maybe for some other reason at all that only you knew, Pitaya Dragon Cookie would yet again be reminded of how easily cookies crumble, and in the worst way possible this time.

The thought of you leaving them in such a horrid manner pained them deeply, Pitaya Dragon Cookie couldn’t control themselves as they refused to accept what was happening, the panicked tones of their voice sounding more unnatural than ever for someone like them. As you those painful yet truthful words slowly leave your mouth, their widened eyes meet yours, and the kiss you two share makes everything else feel non-existent for just that moment; Pitaya Dragon wished with al their heart that it wouldn’t end, just for the futile hope of you not leaving them so soon.

They promise right there and then to take your words to heart in a bid to ensure your final moment with them is a special one.

Their beloved deserves no less…

Ever since then, any cookies that visited the Dragon Valley and Pitaya Dragon Cookie’s lair would have meet a a dragon cookie that acted slightly different than the legends had described them. They were more pacified, often willing to calm down when needed, and the odd sentiment of longing for something missing was always present around their every move.

Without their endless belligerence, Pitaya Dragon Cookie’s life took a different turn after their loss of you. But it was a price they’d always be more than willing to pay if it meant honouring your last words!

“Please, Ananas… take care of yourself, stay safe… and please don’t be so self-absorbed anymore. Treat others with the same care you treated me with… I love you”

In this moment, themselves would be the dead last thing Ananas would dare to think about. Their focus stolen by you and you only, their entire being shaky as they kneeled besides you, and their mighty, proud voice reduced to a hushed tone.

Their beloved had been an essential part of Ananas’s pride. Though they were often too focused on keeping up their“holier-than-thou” image, they still always cared about his you as much as all their other treasures, maybe even more so. Their islands were your home right next to their side, and they were content with living out their days with the cookie than truly made them feel like the mighty, high being they knew they were

So why was this happening? Why was their most precious treasure of all being torn away from them like this?

They were more than ready to do anything within what their vigour and riches allowed them to do in order to save your untimely demise. But much to their dismay, they knew that it didn’t matter whether what was affecting you was a disease, fatal wound, or even something like a nasty curse; everything they tried had failed, no matter what their position as a dragon allowed them to do or achieve.

In a sense, it’s as if losing you was them being humbled. He saw himself as one of the most superior cookies cookies in Earthbread, yet in this very moment he was as powerless as the feeble cookies below him.

Anger turns into sombreness as his hands hold you close to his scales in your final moments before you go to the other side…

Ananas’s benevolence over the Pineapple Isle’s inhabitants and visitors would increase by tenfold since that fateful day, except for defilers, of course. Cookies who found themselves in trouble or in need of help near their lands would now be graced with the endless assistance of the prideful yet considerate golden figure that passed in the sky more often than ever before, increasing the joy of all who were amongst their mighty presence, but only a few handful of cookies would only ever know the reason why.

Though whether the dragon’s new behaviours were simply a sign of respect for the last wishes of their deceased dearest, or a sign of the desire to truly become a less self-centred person not just for their dearest but for all those he watched over, or a sign of something else entirely, nobody would ever truly know. Interpretations are something left to an individual, and only Ananas Dragon Cookie would ever know for sure.

“Please, Longan… take care of yourself, stay safe… and please don’t view other cookies so negatively anymore. Treat them all with the same warmth you always showed me… I love you”

Out of the three, Longan Dragon Cookie would probably seem to be the most composed on the outside, focusing on simply staying with you for your final moments and making sure you felt loved ‘til the end.

But on the inside, the Ivory Dragon would also be the one who would feel the most pain out of three over your passing. Why did the one cookie that somehow achieved the impossible and gained the Longan’s affections, out of all the pathetic and petty wastes of crumbs that plagued the lands, have to be the one to fall and crumble helplessly?

After all, Longan Dragon Cookie was nothing short of the highest authority on Earthbread. in their eyes, every single occurrence and event that ever happened only happened because they currently allowed it to, and they can take anything away from existence as quickly as it had been granted. And yet now they were the ones having to suffer having something taken away from them, for you to slip away from their watchful eyes without their agreement.

As you lay there in their hold, your weary eyes barely even able to open anymore, your view is met with the gaze of the Ivory Dragon’s draconic eyes soften in a way you hadn’t ever witnessed before. His lack of words are more telling than anything he could even say in the moment - you know they desperately want nothing more than to find a way to save you of your fate, but the culmination of past failures over this has already proved to them the ugly truth. Instead, the warm feelings of their lips gently making contact with the dough on your forehead are the last thing you feel before all your senses fall into a gentle numbness…

Ever since that mournful day, Longan Dragon Cookie found themselves at a loss of of a plan for the future. Reclaiming the nostalgic past felt meaningless is it was a past he would have to experience without you. Cookies from all over the land would inexplicably breathe easier at the subconscious feeling that the unstoppable fire threatening to change the landscape had finally been extinguished, and had now been replaced with the mournful embers of grief.

Longan Dragon Cookie knew that someday, the fire of desire for their original goal would someday return, but for now, they were content with simply following your last words and not turning any cookies into stone. Only when they lost their beloved did the dragon ever truly experience what if felt like to be one of those pathetic little crumbs littering all over Earthbread, and the memories of your time with them would always remain latched onto their cold heart.

(phew, finally managed to finish a prompt-)

[lawofangie]

you aren't special

a mean rant - you have been warned lol

i find it sad that you all are capable of feeling exceptional or different from other people, but in a misguided way. i keep getting these asks, dms, and keep seeing others say "the law of assumption isn't working for me". which never makes any sense.

i want to focus on the keywords, "for me". see, it's one thing to believe the law isn't real, but to believe that it works for everybody but you? it's illogical, just doesn't make any sense, and it's not even possible. what's so special about you that a literal LAW doesn't apply to you?

do you GENUINELY believe that you're special enough for the law to not work for you? that you've magically become some outlier? please make it make sense!

i see this, but then it makes me think back to how much you guys struggle with manifesting positive things and how you could be seeing yourself as an outlier in a good way. but, you're so busy wallowing in self pity to the point where you sabotage yourself and call it the truth, it's almost masochistic.

you're basically putting yourself above a law, which usually implies superiority, but you're implying your own inferiority. do you get what i'm saying?

so, you can believe things won't work out for you in a negative way, but you struggle so much to believe that in a positive way? and then you guys say this stuff doesn't work? like the only thing here that isn't working is you, your own fucking brain. YOU are the one not following the only rule, then wondering why it isn't working for you. you're not following simple instructions and wondering why you aren't getting results!

the law of assumption says that your assumptions become reality. your ASSUMPTIONS. not your hopes, not your dreams, the law doesn't give a damn about any of that. you only get what you ARE, not what you want. the law doesn't give a fuck about your feelings, your circumstances, your desires, WE know what you want, WE care, which is why WE advise you to assume in your favor in order for you to get it.

if you fail to ever do this, then that's on you. it was your choice to believe that things wouldn't work out for you despite what everyone else told you. and actually, this is another thing. in order to manifest, you're told to assume. regardless of what you are being shown, you assume anyway, right? you guys don't realize that believing in your own demise is quite literally following instructions, you're just not doing it in a beneficial way.

you have all these support systems, motivation, success stories, etc, and yet you still choose not to believe in yourself. this is why i don't understand why you guys overconsume so much and latch on to every success story you find. you know deep down it doesn't change shit if you don't believe it, so why bother? reading somebody else's story isn't going to change the life you're living. you shouldn't live vicariously through strangers on the internet. it's not going to do anything more than give you that short boost of motivation that you never utilize. so why bother? at the end of the day, no matter how much you ignore it, all that matters is what you believe about yourself and your current circumstances.

you are still obviously capable of believing something to be true, so it's not hard. you guys just find it hard to like yourselves, to believe in something good for yourselves, and thats on nobody but you. it's honestly pathetic, but nonetheless, you have nobody to blame but yourself for the way you feel about yourself. nobody can tell you how to feel but you. nobody has any power, influence, on control over you and your own mind.

what you confuse for other people's influence over you is simply just you being influenced by them.

[highhhfiveee]

please i need some dubcon mike schmidt ..,,, like he picks up drunk reader from a party n takes her home n fucks her throat ..,,, ‘you’re so easy to control when you’re all stupid like this’ ..,,, she’s got tears streaming down her face n she’s clawing at his thighs but he just holds her head in place n strokes her hair n tells her how good she’s making him feel ,,

okay okay okay. shiver me fuckin timbers lmaoooo. this is so brothersbestfriend!mike. switched it up a little but i hope you still enjoy! [had this set to post at 12 but tumblr failed me lmao]

sangria

pairing: brothersbestfriend!mike schmidt x blackfem!reader wc: 4k tags: brothersbestfriend!mike, fem!reader, intimate touching, choking, wild dick sucking, deep throating, spitplay, degradation, dubcon (reader is plastered, and while she does consent to be taken advantage of, she is still under the influence); mike is such a protector and i'm starting to think that this is megasub!reader x protector!mike in addition to bbf! [let me know if i missed anything + this has been proofread but there’s always still a chance for mistakes lmao]

link to the original fic, mimosa, here 🍹, and the first part of the finale here, tequila sunrise, here 🍸

okay, so maybeeeeeee you two didn't actually get caught that day.

you’re panting in each other’s faces as you come, clean yourselves off, and exit the shed like your brother's best friend hadn't made you squirt all over the garden tools and pool supplies.

the feeling of mike's come pooling in your bikini bottoms makes you tingly all over again, and you're squirming while you both ease your way back into the fold of cookout attendees, diverting into separate paths so no one can catch onto your attachment; clandestine and kept between the eyes, lips, and bodies of you two only.

you'd wished mike nothing but hell while you were away at school, doing anything you could to get the thought of him out of your head. even though you'd been the one to catch feelings, you never wanted him to have any part of you ever again, restricting him from you.

you'd wanted him erased from the entire galaxy then, but from the cookout forward, nothing excited you more than the thought of being mike’s plaything. you snuck around with him more than you should've; giving him handjobs in the backseat of his car, letting him eat you out in your bedroom with the door open---risky things that made your heart pound with adrenaline and need, a rush to the very end.

you could only get that feeling with mike. it made you sick to your stomach with taboo butterflies, fantasizing about all the ways he could have you thrashing, eyes rolling back, toes curled until your feet cramped.

he'd hooked you on him once again, and this time, he'd decided to go with the flow. he wasn't pursuing anything with anyone else, and feelings had begun to bloom in him. nothing like love, he'd told himself (even though your flirty smile made his heart palpitate before making his dick hard), but like...safeguarding.

you were young, unversed with life, vulnerable; mike could see people taking advantage of you, mistaking your soft, impish act for total naivete. even though he'd hurt you himself, he'd never allow anyone else to treat you that way, or put you in a situation to harm you. there was this urge in him to keep you safe, keep you protected from the mean world that ate girls like you for breakfast.

mukrrrrrrrrrrrr

molwwwwwwwwww

gahdmn i cant tYpe LoL

exhibit a.

y/n are you drunk

….

………..

…………………………….

y/n

4 F R E E dwinks

downnnnnnnnn thw hATCH

pArTyz rool xp

mike's about to ask about your location when your picture floods his screen, phone vibrating in his hand with a call. he answers it with a displeased, "where are you?

"she’s at 8203 harrington circle," someone yells over loud, bass-riddled music and scattered conversations. mike hopes it's a friend of yours, and not a complete stranger. “she was fine, but i think that fourth drink tipped her over!"

mike's been putting on clothes and grabbing for his keys and wallet since your first text message, already sulking to his car as your friend finishes her statement. "stay with her and keep her upright, i'll be there in fifteen."

he can't get rid of the deep scowl etched on his face while he drives, both hands clasped tensely on his wheel at ten and two. he wants you to have fun, of course. he isn't going to tell you not to go to parties, or not to drink---you’re your own person, and he has no right to tell you what you could and couldn't do, but something about you utterly hammered around so many people you probably don't know makes his heart pound against his ribcage with agitation.

harrington circle was a street on a state school campus, one that you'd opted not to go to all that time ago. maybe you'd known some people there, but mike was sure you didn't know your way around, where to go if something went wrong...

he pulls up to a tall, red brick house smack dab in the middle of a cul-de-sac, immediately throwing his car in park and exiting when he sees two girls walking alongside a guy carrying you out the front doorway. he has his hands hooked under your armpits, pushing your boobs together and "covertly" staring at your amplified cleavage as he leads you down the short stone path.

your head lulls back a little, and you're smiling up at the sky with your eyes closed and your cheeks flushed to death. your legs drag under you, and mike's quick to grab for your waist, removing you from that perv's grasp with haste and a grimace.

you droop into him, body leaden with alcohol, and he slides one arm under the back of your knees, bending his own to lift you into a bridal style hold.

you squeal as he turns away from the house, throwing your arms around his neck and dreamily sighing at the way his hands feel carrying you, strong and vigilant and possessive. "mikeeeeeee," you mewl, pulling yourself into him so you can nudge at the column of his throat. your words are slurred almost beyond comprehension, and he commands one of the girls to open the passenger door so he can ease you inside.

he sets you down in the seat, or at least tries to, whispering, "let me go" when you keep your arms wrapped around him. the position has him hunched over, and it hurts his back so badly, but you whimper, "nooooo, want you close" while nearly making him trip and fall across you, splaying his entire body over yours. he smells so good, all warm and musky and mike, and you don’t want to separate from him.

"y/n, please. i wanna get you home," he reaches back to wrench your arms off of him, placing them in your lap and closing the door before you can complain. he walks around the front to the driver's side, monotonously thanking the girl who'd helped you as he grumpily enters the car.

he grabs for your seat belt, stretching it across your torso as he does his own and drives away from the annoyingly illuminated house and party commotion in silence.

you're so gone, but even drunk, it's unsettling to you how quiet mike is, keeping his eyes focused on the road without a hint of a glance or a word to you. his jaw is clenched deeply, and he's stiff as a board against his seat, so opposite from his usual sullen, suave nonchalance. you frown at him, fingering with your strappy, well-tied sandals. "hey, grumpy,"

"not grumpy," you huff at his tone, sour and unwavering, and wiggle your toes as you finally free them from the entrapment of footwear. "i'm fine."

"you've gotten very, very bad at lying," you demur. your head slacks again, but this time against your headrest. you ogle mike through the film in your eyes, digging your teeth into your bottom lip. "mad at me?"

mike writhes in his seat, his jaw muscles flexing at your coy lilt. you know how to manipulate him with your words, sweetening them in just a way that would have mike bending to your will. the way you're gazing at him with your big, unfocused eyes makes him makes him press down on the gas a bit harder.

"i'm not mad," he mutters, all pseudo-nonconfrontational and collected, but you know that he's not telling the truth. something about the circumstances bothers him, and you want to know why. the car comes to a stop at a red light, mike shaking his head as he scrunches his face and rubs his eye with a knuckle. "forget about it."

"i won't. don't like me having fun without you?" he doesn't answer, staring ahead at the empty streets around the two of you. it was so late, nearly 2 am, and it only fuels the exasperation he feels burning in his stomach. he doesn’t like you out here like this, without him to keep you out of harm’s way.

"is it the drinking?" you pout, frustrated with the way he's ignoring you. "i admit, maybe four drinks was overkill, but i feel sooooo good. my body feels like..." you make a subtle buzzing noise, similar to tv static, and cut it off with a giggle, reaching over for one of mike's hands while the light turns green.

you inch it towards your lap, dragging it across the skin of your thigh that skims the end of your skirt, mini and gold and matching with the white corset top you wore. "you should feel."

"y/n..."

"c'mon mike," you pout again, dipping his hand between your opened legs. you let out an astounded moan when his cold fingertips connect with your bare clit, and now he's scowling at the fact that you’re not wearing any panties. he thinks about how many people would keep note of that, combined with your docile, inebriated state, and see it as a way in. it’s clear, with how those drinks have you begging him to ease his fingers into you, caressing your tight, warm walls so he can add another check to "car" on the list of places he's made you squirt. “don't want you to be mad at me anymore."

"i'm not mad at you, y/n," he finally says, fingers still against your skin. you're soaking his seats, the excess of your slick dripping down to the cloth, and he has to pull himself out of thinking about someone else feeling you in this way. his eyes stay low on the road as he continues, "did you know anyone at that party?"

"mhm, like one person." mike sighs, a low grumble in his throat. he pulls his hand away from you, putting all of his attention on driving so he can get home. he just wants you inside, away from the world and in his charge. he doesn't say anything for a long while, eventually taking a deep breath and mumbling, "just want you safe, y/n. i'm glad you called me to come get you. there are bad people out there, and i don’t trust them in situations like this.”

"yeah," you purr, leaning against the center console and resting your head on the side of his seat. "you're my knight in shining armor, hmm? keeping me away from all the bad bad people looking to destroy messed up princesses like me?"

mike side eyes your tone, nearly scolding you for treating it like a joke and not something that could actually happen.

"...that's one way to put it, but seriously—-“

"wanna be destroyed though," you interrupt, unbuckling your seatbelt once he cuts the car off in the driveway. he’s turning to you, dark eyes gazing towards your pouted lips. you're reaching your hand across his lap, massaging it over the press of him in his sweatpants. “especially by you. wanna be your little fucktoy. let you use my messy holes however you want because they're yours."

your filthy mouth and shameless confession have mike turned on and hard and thinking about how you've called your holes his. he's seeing you bent over the couch, stuffed to the hilt with his fingers pressed against your tongue while he smirks down on you, veins coursing with lust. he squeezes at your hand, and says,

"let's get you inside, okay? then we can talk more about my messy fucking holes."

you're dizzy, giving him a big, woozy smile and letting all the craving you feel inside pour out through your glazed over eyes when he swoops you up again, carrying you and your shoes to his front door. your arms are back around his neck, and you're placing soft kisses on his lips, jaw, and chin as he drops your shoes by the entrance and carries you all the way to the couch, settling his body into one of the corners.

you're adjusting yourself on him so your bare mound drips over his thighs, and he's got his hands around your hips again, digging his fingers into your flesh as you mindlessly grind against him. you're still kissing against his lips, so uncoordinated and sloppy, and he pulls on the wispy strands at the nape of your neck, disconnecting you from him so he can leer at you with a look that tells you he will be destroying you tonight, guaranteed. "no panties was really bold of you, baby."

"can’t have panty lines in this skirt," you frown, placing your hands on mike's shoulders for leverage to move on him a bit harsher, eventually grazing them over his back and arms as you do. "not cute."

"but it's really not cute for you to have my holes on display for anyone to have, especially not when you're like this."

"mikey, please,” you coo, hunching down to press wet, suctioned kisses on mike's bare neck and rolling your hips into the weight of him. he feels so good against you, and you're aching, the alcohol sending shocks to your clit with every second of friction. "want you in me or something. no more talking, just use—-.”

"aht, don't rush me. trying to get you to understa---" one of your hands goes from roaming his shoulderblades to placing pressure around his throat, shocking him stiff against the back of the couch.

he doesn't think anyone has ever choked him before, and while his eyes burn at you with frenzied astonishment, you're causing him to have a revelation. his dick pulses against the material of his sweatpants at the feeling of your dainty hand squeezing his throat, and he's reaching to grab your wrist and bring your hand down before he comes all quick like he’s 18 again. you stop him with your other hand, coming in close to his face.

there's such a ferocity in your stare, and he knows that you're not going to let him lecture you all night. you need him to fuck you, need him to do something with you and your drunken arousal.

"are you really gonna keep talking, or would you rather just fuck my throat?" you slide your arms down his back, lips placed by his ear as you whisper, "show me how depraved people really can be when i'm like this."

he knows it's sick, but it doesn't take much past that for mike to have you on all fours beside him on the couch, back arched into a 45 degree angle as you drool all over his lap. you're begging for it, whining about how good he feels in your mouth, and he doesn't want to miss an opportunity to give you something you want, even though you're in this state. he's glad that it's him using you in this scenario, and not someone genuinely looking to hurt you. it's his rationale for giving in to your immoral desires.

you pull away from your mess with a sharp inhale, your jaw trembling as you sit up and give mike an eager, spit-slick smile. your eyes are even more distant than before, and it's almost like you’ve checked out. mike can see all the brashness and attitude you give him on the regular is gone, currently replaced with servitude and the intent to please, nothing less.

"wanna feel you ruin my throat, mike," you rasp, grabbing his dick in your hand and stroking at the soft skin, suckling on his tip as you flash him the hunger you feel inside through a grin. "please."

he's silent, having a quarrel with himself as he takes in your blank, mindless expression. it’s so wrong of him, but you look so pretty like this, and he reaches out to hold your cheek as you pout at him again.

"pleaseeeeee," you whine, tears nearly welling in your eyes. "want you to wreck me, use me however you wanttttt. gonna be your obedient, drunk little whore, do whatever you ask."

mike loses all resolve then, and demands you to drop to your knees in between his own. you're quick to assume the position, letting him put one hand on the back of your head and feed his dick into your throat.

"shouldn't like this," mike mutters, wrapping your hair up into a ponytail with both of his hands, watching you rub his dick over your face after slipping it from your mouth to spit on it. he almost can't take you like this, spacey and pliant and all his to destroy. so drunk and willing and--- "shouldn't let me take advantage of you like this."

your face is stained with tears and spit, streaks of dried liquid overlaying your burning cheeks and swollen lips. the neckline of your top is soaked too, saliva glistening on your chest.

"maybe i wanted it," you muse, winking leisurely as you wrap both of your slim hands around his base, smirking up at him. "maybeeeeeee i went and got plastered cause i knew you’d come get me if i called," you're feeding him into your mouth again, and without warning, mike is holding your head stationary, shoving his hips up into your warm mouth while you gulp every time he hits the opening to your throat. of course you'd do something like this. your admittance makes mike feel a plethora of things, good, bad, ugly, but right now, all he's focused on is making you feel like the toy you wanted to be.

"you're a fucking slut, y/n," he hisses with gritted teeth, throwing his head back as he feels you open up for him, allowing him to raise his hips and sink further into you.

the muscles of your throat flutter around his length, and it makes his toes curl, tangling together in his socks. "only sluts go to a party to get drunk so they can be turned into pretty little fuckdolls later...like being fucking mindless for me, huh?"

"love it, mike," you whimper, laying your tongue flat so his dick can slip in and out of your mouth with less resistance. it's covered in thick spit, a droplet resting on the tip, and mike leans down to collect all of it in his own mouth with a sloppy, obscene kiss, before releasing it all over his pelvis with a groan.

it was a fucking mess, and he loved it. he knew you loved it like this too, and your enjoyment of the raunchiness is reflected in the way you patiently wait for him to plunge his dick in you, eyes twinkling with everything and nothing at the same time.

your hand is moving under your dress, fingers stroking along your sodden walls, but he doesn't care; not when your eyes are rolling back into your skull as his dick infiltrates your throat again, filling the room with a persistent gluckgluckgluck as he rhythmically slams your face into his base.

you're sure you'll have no voice after this, but fuck, will it be worth it. you're basking in every second of this, so happy you decided to go out tonight. you were unexperienced in some ways, but you knew how to get to people, or at least to mike. you could get him to do whatever you wanted under the guise of him being in control, and all it took was a bit of sweetening with your voice, a flutter of your eyelashes and a crooked, "innocent" smile for mike to be wound your finger, abusing your face in a way you shouldn’t have dreamt of. you're running out of breath, and your fingers dig into his thighs with the message, but he ignores you, gripping your hair so that your mouth gently snaps up around him every time he pulls his hips back. the sensation is godly, and mike's not sure if he deserves this really. you'd fallen so hard for him at one point, and he'd crushed your hope to be with him under his thumb, but now you're here, letting him have you like this despite those memories. he's lucky, for whatever force is keeping you in his orbit.

"letting me do this to you while you're fucked up...letting some older guy take your throat like you're just free use...you're not getting into heaven," you laugh around him, forming your mouth into a makeshift smile as he slowly slides you off of him, overstimulated by the ridges of your throat muscles clinging to him. he doesn't want to come on your face, not this time. he wants you to beg for him to come in you, for him to fill you until you're overflowing, leaking down your thighs while he gives you more and more and more and more...

"i know," you mewl, pretty face smeared with saliva and pre-come. "i'll be in hell with you. wouldn't have it any other way." mike sits up, thumbing at your bottom lip and hissing as you unhinge your jaw and suck the tip of it inside. your eyes are getting dimmer by the second, but you're still wanting everything mike can give you.

he won't stop until you say so, and he strangely finds himself buzzing with lust at the thought of you bossing him around for his pleasure and yours. how had you gotten in his head like this?

"go in my room and strip, baby. sit in the middle of the bed and don't move." you're on your feet in a flash, clumsily dashing down the short hall without a look back.

it gives him time to get some towels, a washcloth to clean your face up, some lube, and grab waters for the both of you, thinking about all the ways he's gonna contort you. he might even make you watch in the mirror, make you take in your glassy eyes and lack of autonomy, the way you're letting him, your brother's best friend, have you in such an obscene way.

he cracks the door open with all the items in hand, and scoffs when he sees you naked, but stretched out on the bed, mouth hanging open with soft snores.

he walks over to the edge, dropping the things he's holding onto the comforter and shaking your shoulder softly. "baby," you lurch awake, murmuring "huh?".

you blink the bleariness out of your eyes as he uses one of the towels he brought to wipe off his drenched groin, and he smirks at you. you two are done for the night, and that's fine with him. something about your small figure, safely sprawled against his sheets has him seeing hearts and stars and rainbows and everything else he's tried so hard to push away.

when he's dry, ditching his shirt and boxers, he leans against his headboard, cradling you in his arms and lap as he begins using the washcloth to wipe at the dried spittle on your face. "here," he announces, cracking open a water bottle and bringing it to your lips, tilting it so you're able to get some water between them without much effort.

you swallow the sips he gives softly, wrapping your arms around his neck again. you loved being skin to skin with him, and right now, you felt tranquility.

this is but a fraction of that 100% he wanted to give, you think. something has changed in him, and now he wants to show you care. he still wants you to need him, need him to keep you protected from the world outside while he corrupts you in his own. you want that, too.

"mmmmmmm, you're so boyfriend," you muse, placing pecks on his collarbones as he continues cleaning you up. he's able to maintain a pokerface towards you, wiping at your cheeks with passive strokes, but inside, he feels nothing but chaos. why does he like hearing you call him boyfriend, like having you in his arms like this? why did it all seem to fill a hole in his heart, one he always thought would stay a cavity?

"really do love you, mike," you add, staring at him full on now. you might as well be sober, with your attentive, doe-like eyes. "tried hard not to, but i do."

you've broken him down, so easily, and somehow, he's giving into you with a deep, irrevocable sigh. he has nothing else to do but finally accept the truth.

"me too, y/n. me too."

this was rough for me to write because my brain just couldn't work properly, so i hope it's not the dogshit i think it is lmao hope this satisfies you anon!

faire's seedlings ✿

@leahdhopkins4321-@pyr0-kai-@angstywhore-@sunazroo-@nyxthoughtss-@mirophobic-@fayethor-@marixsimps-@regretfulme-@ithinkitszeph-@707xn-@cattt777-@violetta-ximena-@amnesia33-@topnerd03-@fastnights-@laprvphette-@savage-aespa-@mfdxz-@0-tatiana-0-@dusstory-@delwrites-@mikeschmidtgf-@jun1p3rlol-@xyzstar-@aquamarine001-@atrociouslybear

[iovestuck]

TO ALL THE BOYS I'VE LOVED BEFORE (PS. I STILL LOVE YOU) . 엔하이픈

STARINGS.. crush ! enhypen x female ocs

SYNOPSIS.. Letters are written to past loves; these letters are kept between the two parties in order to gain closure. Nevertheless, the letters are sent out accidentally, and thus, the individuals receive them, and this leads to a number of confrontations. When the letters get to their respective destinations, mayhem happens and people’s hidden truths and feelings come out, hence creating a situation whereby all the affected persons have to deal with the past incidents.

GENRES.. coming of age, fluff, angst, collage au, crushes to friends to lovers, romance, friends to lovers, written + smau, etc.

WARNINGS.. strict parents, depression, mental health issues, today's society, teenage love, women discrimination, discrimination, eating disorders, blood, drinking (of age), vomiting, nauseous, sleep deprivation, insomnia, hospitals, neglection, isolation, introverts, harassments, sexual assaults, crushes, suggestive scenes, parties, under the influence, peer pressure, asian stereotypes, physical fights, arguments, expectations, breakups, friendship breakups, etc.

ages under 17 recommend reading with caution !

IOVESTUCK'S NOTES.. welcome to my longest series. It will be coming out next year and maybe the year after (depending on how long I write the series! This series will be a college au overall, but there will be mention of teenage love, elementary love, etc. This series is based on the All the Boys series (all of the series). The members will have a different oc (not the same) and they will be in different timelines. I also have a txt version, too. I hope you enjoy this series once it is out!

INSPIRED BY.. lovely runner, love next door, all of the boys series, xo, kitty, 20th century girl, when i fly towards you, and so much more!

If you want to be added to the any of the members taglist, please only send an ask as my notifications can be messy, and your notes/comments won't be seen. Also, please tell me which member(s) taglist do you want to be added in!

PLAYLIST

MASTERLISTS

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ 🍬⚘️ I'VE LIKED, NO LOVED YOU EVER SINCE THAT DAY

read here

LEE HEESEUNG

elementary crush ! lee heeseung × female oc

Do you remember having a crush in elementary school? For her, it was a feeling that never truly faded. She never told him but wrote letters—letters filled with everything she couldn’t express. Over the years, those letters became a secret part of her. Then, one day, to her surprise, the letters reached their intended recipient, especially the ones meant for her 4th grade crush. What started as a quiet, hidden affection now had the chance to be revealed.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ 📚🌷 NEVER THOUGHT THIS WILL COME TRUE

read here

PARK JONGSEONG (JAY)

junior high crush ! jongseong × female oc

You still remember having a crush in junior high, right? As for her, everything started in the first year. But instead of saying the words she couldn’t voice to him out loud, she wrote it in letters – letters of all the things she could not otherwise say. They stayed her little secret and, over time, she practiced writing them on her notebook without much exposure to anyone else. Then, one day, all of a sudden, those letters managed to reach him, especially the ones for her first year crush. What was personal now had a chance to go out in the open.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ 🐶🌻 THERE ISN'T ANYTHING ELSE TO SAY HONESTY

read here

SIM JAEYUN (JAKE)

childhood neighbor ! jaeyun × female oc

Do you ever get to know who the new neighbor who just shifted into the neighborhood is? For her, it began when a family moved to the flat next door when she was in the second grade level. She saw a boy her age but did not find any courage to talk to the boy. Instead, she wrote letters full of what she could not dare to speak on the phone: In time, those letters never left her lips; instead, they were locked in her diary with many of her other letters. One day, they actually came to her crushes unannounced, especially to him. They were now dealing with a simple crush that could now blossom into something more.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ 🍫🍁 WE WERE JUST STRANGERS AT FIRST

read here

PARK SUNGHOON

groceries store crush ! sunghoon × female oc

Have you ever had a fleeting moment with someone who left your heart racing, but you never had the courage to speak up? On a regular trip to the grocery store, she noticed him—a man around her age—and their brief exchange left her wondering if he felt the same. For years, she had written secret letters to her crushes, hiding them away, too shy to send them. But unexpectedly, those letters—especially the ones meant for him—found their way to him, sparking the beginning of something new.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ 🧸🫧 THIS IS JUST A DREAM AND I WILL WAKE UP SOON

read here

KIM SEONWOO (SUNOO)

childhood friend crush ! sunoo × female oc

Has there ever been a person with whom you’ve spent numerous hours playing as a child and then become intimate friends, and then one day, you unexpectedly begin to fancy them? She had been around him since their infancy, but of late, even a look elicited a feeling in her heart. He was her best friend, she feared losing him as such, and as such, she never let him know how she felt about him, whether he had the same feelings for her. She never explicitly expressed herself and secretly wrote letters to her crushes – including him for years – and kept the letters locked away. Surprisingly, those letters—particularly the ones addressed to him—were received by him and stirred something unexpected yet new.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ 🔍📷 YOU ARE JUST SO PERFECT WHILE I'M NOT PERFECT

read here

YANG JUNGWON

student council president crush ! jungwon × female oc

Do you remember that feeling when you like someone and this person seems to be totally unattainable for you? She has been secretly in love with him for god knows how long — he was the student council president, charismatic, attractive, and loved by all. She was just a normal school girl not even having the courage to introduce herself to him. For years, she wrote sweet letters to her crushes including him but never give to any of them. One day, those letters, some of the letters for him — arrived in his and her other crushes hands, and that is when her secret became far from a cute little secret.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ 🌸🍨 I'M DREAMING AREN'T I, THIS GOT TO BE A DREAM

read here

NISHIMURA RIKI (NI-KI)

childhood friend crush ! riki × female oc

Have you ever had a childhood friend who always made you laugh, but one day you started seeing them differently? He was her funny, weird best friend who loved to dance and tease her. Lately, though, her feelings had changed. For years, she wrote secret letters to her crushes, including him, but kept them hidden. Unexpectedly, those letters—especially the ones for him—found their way to him, and everything shifted. Whether it's a good thing or not, who knows.

© 2024-2025 — all rights reserved to user iovestuck, please do not steal, plagiarise, or translate any of my works without prior permission from me !

[ghostmoon1]

You know what, to start the year off, Imma make this lil appreciation post.

Now it's only been like, less than a year since I joined Tumblr about, I've been writing and drawing for years before this point, but the community here, especially the CoD community which I am mainly apart of just made me feel amazing. Everyone I've met here are some of the nicest people.

I have gotten my old hobbies back, giving me reason to write and draw again which have majorly helped with my own mental health, and now I just wanted to give the amazing people a shout out to start the year off, to hopefully make peoples days, and to just let them know that I appreciate yall!

In no specific order :3 and if you don't wanna be pinged again by me, please let me know and I won't!! No harm done, I hope this is okay :) and this is prob gonna be cringe or smt.. all sappy but like.Yeah here yall are lmao-

Putting them under the cut as there are a few :3

@gomzdrawfr - You've been a massive influence since I joined the CoD community, I adored your art from the very start, and your just such a sweet and kind person, one that I'm so thankful to have met, and so proud to be able to call you my friend. You're the first proper friend I've made here, and I can't tell you how much our talks make me smile every single time. And I'm also so thankful for the community you have sorta helped me get into, you've helped me feel comfortable interacting with more people here :3

@shadeops21 - You were honestly the person that got me to join Tumblr! I was looking for something to try and make my own Konig cosplay (that's been given up on bc motivation and Tik Tok just. yeahhh) and I found you, and all your amazing work! I basically made my account to see if you'd make any more, cause I just love what you do so much, it's got to be so helpful for so many people!!

@sleepyconfusedpotato - After Shadeops, you were the very second person I found here! And oh my gosh how much I obsessed (and still do) over your art, especially Jade. You inspired me to write my first ever fic on here, actually, where I made my first CoD oc ship with Soap, your art and what you do honestly helped me feel comfortable making something like that for myself, cause some of the toxic people on Tik Tok made me uneasy and unsure about that lol- And now, I finally have an OC I'm working in depth on, and you're my biggest reason to thank for that.

@soaps-mohawk - Your writing has inspired me so much, and I couldn't thank you enough for making your wonderful fic. I may not be like, a OG, but I've been there since around chapter 20 I think? I could be wrong, but half way through sorta. You are the biggest reason I started writing again here, you just create masterpieces. And this is the first time I've ever been hooked into a fic so much, and what got me into liking the Omegaverse (you hooked me and I can't let go of it now...) Thank you for taking your time with your writing, and thank you for all the inspiration you have given me.

@on-a-lucky-tide - Oh my gosh how much you have yanked me into the Nikprice community. I adore every single one of your writing pieces, and honestly, you are another who has helped inspire me to write more. All your writing is so filled with emotion and love, I want to be able to do that as well. Your a wonderful person, I've seen you interact with this community and everyone, and I just adore you as a person and all the hard work you put time and effort into creating.

@rainyrambles-overcod - I adore your oc's and rambles so much!! And I couldn't tell you how happy it makes me to have a friend that is okay with the tag games, I never know who to tag for those sorta things, but I actually feel okay tagging you and they are so fun and always brighten my mood :3 Keep creating, I can't wait to see what else you come up with. Thank you for all the tag games and fun!!

@nekrosmos - Yet another that has helped drag me into the Nikprice community or cult ig that too. Your art is absolutely amazing, I truly want to be able to draw like you do. Just everything about your art has me in awe, the emotion, the style, the love everything. Seeing your art brings me so much happiness! Oh and your writing is BEAUTIFUL. That also brings me joy to take a little time out of my day to sit and read the time and effort you put into everything, and how kind of a person you are. I always hope you'll keep creating, and always remember how much joy you bring both myself and others.

@daredaredoodles - I know we don't interact a whole lot, but you honestly mean a lot to me still. You were my first ever mutual on this site, and I will be forever grateful for this. Personally its anxiety that stops me from barging into peoples Dm's and talking, but yeah. Thank you for that, even if it is only a small thing.

@cricricorner - you were my first follower, and I still see you in my notifications from time to time, which always brings me joy! It's wonderful to see your followers still interact with your content, and I couldn't say how grateful I am. I couldn't tell you how happy I was to gain my first follower here, so thank you for taking your time to read my writing and see my art.

@daydreamsareallineed - You were pretty much the first person to show so much interest in my main fic!! And oh my gosh I couldn't ever tell you how much joy it brought me to read your comments, to have someone so interested in my writing, that personally I didn't even think was that good. I haven't given up completely on the fic dw, I'll hopefully update it soon! Motivation just go brrr. Thank you so much for all your support, it means the world to me.

And another shoutout to everyone who supports me, who follows me, and to every single one of you that like and reblog my content. I look through every single note I receive, I assure you none of you are left out.

And my final shoutout to everyone that creates on this site. The community here is like nothing I've ever experienced before. I adore scrolling through everyone's art, it all makes my day. I've never felt so comfortable and unjudged before. Thank you to everyone who contributes to this, you all make my day <3

This turned out a lot longer than I meant it to be- but I just wanted to share how I felt with this new year. I'm sorry if you'd rather not be pinged-

But have a lovely day :3 I love you all!!

[anim-ttrpgs]

Who is Yvette and may I please know more about their streaming career? 🙏

Comtesse Yvette Preux is, for lack of a better word, one of the ‘iconic’ investigators/PCs in Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy. She appears in a lot of art in the rulebook, as do many of the PCs of the A.N.I.M. team and our friends.

(both by team artist @chaospyromancy)

She’s also the first ever monster PC to ever be played in Eureka, back before Eureka even had official monster PC rules. The incredible success of that campaign is what set the precedent for what monster PC gameplay would come to be in Eureka.

You can read a bit of an origin story for her in this post

In the 2010s and 2020s, she has a fairly successful twitch streaming/influencer career, with her gimmick being that she claims to be a real 800+-year-old vampire, and allegedly never breaks character. Her twitch and YouTube channels cover competitive gaming, challenge runs, advanced math, firearms, and urban exploring.

In-person she is.. a little harder to get along with. She’s.. old-fashioned, and her values are very distinctly those of someone who grew up rich and Catholic in the 1200s, which ironically means she has little in common with a modern “tradcath.”

The contrast between the modern world, the modern world’s pop culture idea of the Middle Ages, and the actual Middle Ages is a major theme in the parts of her story where she’s actually integrating into the society of the 1990s and 21st century.

Many would expect her to be virulently and openly hateful, but that’s the pop culture Middle Ages. The actual Middle Ages were oppressive in different and more interesting ways.

I’ll give a few interesting examples

In the Middle Ages, women were considered the more “lustful” and “sexually aggressive” sex, a bit like men are thought of today. It’s women who were considered basically responsible for lust in the first place, to the point that it was considered a public health issue. Lust with no outlet was thought to be detrimental to one’s overall physical health. Sex or even masturbation was sometimes prescribed by doctors to combat this.

This is a comedic exaggeration/oversimplification but in the medieval world being around women would gradually fill up a Dark Souls-style Lust meter and if you didn’t do anything to reduce it it would take a chunk out of your health, making you sickly and prone to other health problems. Women were more resistant to this because they’re the source of lust in the first place. Medieval women covered their legs and their hair in particular for everyone’s protection.

This manifests in Yvette as her not caring at all about being naked in front of female friends, but being careful not to look too sexy around male friends. And then awkwardly telling them to masturbate later if they need to because it’s better to sin and live than to avoid sin to the detriment of one’s health. (In fact, knowingly damaging one’s health is a sin.)

In the art, you can see her not only wearing pants, but even wearing pants that show her ankles and legs, and wearing her hair down. It took her a long time to get comfortable wearing anything but full-length skirts around men, but these risqué (to her) outfits are symbolizing her character growth from someone who is accommodating to others to a fault, to prioritizing her own comfort, even at cost to others.

In the Middle Ages, they did not conceptualize homosexuality like we do now. No one was gay, and neither was anyone straight. Attraction wasn’t a trait of an individual, it was a fact. Homosexuality wasn’t really considered a thing that you were, it was a thing you do. It’s really hard to explain so I’m just going to hope y’all get it along with the example. Sodomy was sodomy, and that was considered to cover basically any irregular form of sex. Irregular sex between a man and woman was as much sodomy as sex between a man and another man. This also means that there was no presumption of homosexuality in the Middle Ages. You didn’t have to say “no homo” before you touched your same sex friend’s hand. Close friends would kiss each other on the mouth and stuff, and that was considered normal. (Though something you would want to avoid was spending more than a few minutes alone with an opposite-sex friend, because that could be used to call the woman’s virginity into question, which could hurt her eligibility for marriage.)

As Yvette understands it, in the 21st century, people have constructed entire communities around their enjoyment of sodomy, like how she’s a member of the gun club. She has complex feelings about that but it isn’t like she’s never engaged in sodomy before either. (She brought this to confession and did her penance so it’s fine.)

What really aggravates her is how she can’t touch or kiss any of her friends in the 21st century without it being considered sexual.

She argues it’s not “gay” for her to feel attracted to women either, it’s normal. Women are naturally attractive to everyone.

Where it really gets abrasive though is probably the classism. She’s from the noble class and still considers that to really matter, it makes her a little bit better than everyone else, and more qualified to be making decisions for people.

She does love commoners, though. All her friends are commoners, and she’s very protective of them. She’s too autistic to get that noblesse obligé wasn’t supposed to be a real principal she lives by and even back when she was for-real managing a fiefdom she was an advocate for the comfort of the peasantry.

I'm gonna have to stop listing all her quirks here because if I don’t stop then it’ll go on forever. If you want to read some short stories that feature her, subscribe to our Patreon.

I’ll segway by saying that two more major aspects of her are generosity and power. She revels in power in all forms, including the power to solve the problems of people who are helpless to solve them themselves. Like I said, she takes noblesse obligé very seriously. Jesus Christ had the power to multiply the fish and bread for the hungry, so he did. She can help, so she will(whether you like it or not). She hardly even considers it a “duty,” it’s more like why would she ever do anything else? Sometimes this means giving away staggering amounts of money, other (more exciting) times it means getting involved in a Eureka adventure/investigation, the more challenging and dangerous the better, because it makes her even cooler. This is what gets her into Eureka adventures. She’s going to help the helpless, what does it matter if it also fuels her ego?

I also just realized I’ve said very little about her actual twitch streaming career. Like I said, her gimmick is that she’s a real vampire. In the 2010s and 2020s, she is more or less “out” as a vampire, openly identifying herself as such and doing almost nothing to hide any aspect of her vampirism(except the part where she sneaks up on people in the night and drinks their blood, but she doesn’t hide that because it’s a vampire thing, she hides that because it’s an assault charge). Most people just think she’s weird, or really really dedicated to the persona. And if somebody does actually see her not reflecting in a mirror, or some other unexplainable proof of vampirism, what are they going to do? Go online and say “hey everyone I think that this popular e-celebrity whose gimmick is that she says she’s a vampire actually is a real vampire!”? Vampires aren’t real, idiot.

If you want to read short stories about her, you can get them with a $5 subscription to our Patreon,

and she and her exploits in Eureka campaigns are also talked about a lot in the A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club.

The Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy rulebook will also have a section that will probably be called “the making of a vampire” that will detail some of her actual living life and shine a little more light on how a vampire actually comes to be in Eureka’s world.

[asktheyigamaster]

Leader Kogha of the despicable Yiga Clan,

It is no secret that I hate you, and you hate me. We are sworn enemies as by our background. Beyond putting an arrow through your skull, I have little desire to ever have an interaction with you. Your pathetic existence repulses me.

However. As much as it pains me to do so, I would like to propose a momentary truce in the name of knowledge exchange.

It is becoming increasingly obvious that you; for whatever reason, seem to have a great deal of information in regards to the inner workings and nature of the four Divine Beasts. I supose them being ancient Sheika technology means that you must have some history with them.

The one and only thing you and I perhaps share in common is that we both seem to have an invested interest in the wellbeing of Vah Medoh.

You are pleased for the rise of this ancient technology that your people created and feel as though the Beasts should remain unburied and thrive, and as her designated Pilot I have a responsibility to keep her safe and in working order.

Thus I propose the following;

You shall provide me with information to aid in Medoh's well being, and in return I shall offer you the payment of taking mercy on the next Yiga assassin that attempts to cross me. Also this one bunch of mighty bananas enclosed, which I had to fly all the way to Faron to aquire.

In short. Usually I would request the Princesses aid or perhaps Purah when it comes to any technical issues regarding Medoh. However; ever since her release from the Demon King's filthy paws, she has been making a strange clunking sound intermittently from the lower back energy core behind her main control panel. When questioned about it, both Purah and the Princess insisted it was likely just rusted gears that could be fixed with a little oil - as if I hadn't already thought of that possibility and done as such. Honnestly their dismissive attitudes about it frustrated me.

Which I'm certain is obvious by the fact I have sunk low enough to resort to coming to you for advice.

Vah Medoh is in... pain. I know she is a machine and machines don't feel pain, I am not a fool. I admit I don't know how to explain that I know this, I just do. I want to help her, even if it means turning to...distrustful sources. I am unsure where else to turn.

I would like to clarify that this is not an invitation to approach the Divine Beast. If you come within a ten foot radius of her or attempt to board, I will not hesitate to send you away looking like a porcupine. This is merely a request for information exchange. If you know what could be the cause for Vah Medoh's distress, and know how to fix it, I implore you to share it with me, just on this one occasion.

This does not make us allies, you are still my sworn enemy and I yours.

Unkind regards,

Champion Revali, Hero of the Rito, Master of the Skies.

Champiom Revali, Master of Blah-blah-blah

You hear a WHAT?

From WHERE?

Medoh is a busty mechanim, with massive metal parts. A clunking noise would be rather normal. NOT anywhere near the energy cells!!!

AND DEFINITELY NOT NEAR THE CONSOLE. THAT'S WHERE THE EMPATHIC CORE IS!

What in dear Ganon's name did you do to it, Featherbrain?!?!! There's not any moving parts TO clang there. This means you made a part move. BADLY

...

It is the place you and Link fought off Ganon's influence isn't it? Both of you share a proclivity for explosive arrowheads, DONT YOU?!?!

mmmmhhhhhhhaaaAAAAAAA

And of course the Princess just told you to oil her up! ... I excepted better from Purah though......

At least you understand that they are wrong, so there's some hope.

There should be more to your situation. No, there definitely is. And the people who, through what I imagine can only be sheer ignorance, managed to convince a Pilot of a Divine Beast that it can't feel pain, are SO not qualified to tell me what it is. A nither are YOU! A pilot who is calling himself a fool for thinking a sapient creature can feel.

I am going in there right now. And I am going to help Vah Medoh, or at least learn exactly how you hurt her to add it to the list of Yiga geudges or so help me Ganon. And you try to stop me the Rito will be holding a contest for a new mech pilot. Cash in that promise of yours not to touch a Yiga for this, I don't care.

By the way! Those are some BRILLIANT Bananas, incredible quality, juuuuuust the right ripeness. Thanks a lot. You gotta share where exactly you got them.

Kindly, Master Kohga, the only guy around with an Ancient Sheikah engineering degree.