#reader being in denial

[agirlnamedelia]

Unwanted Quirk Exchange - Part 2

The next day dawned far too early for your liking. The events of the previous day were still fresh in your mind as you dragged yourself out of bed, feeling the weight of Bakugou’s quirk thrumming beneath your skin. It was as if your body was a ticking time bomb, ready to go off at any moment if you weren’t careful.

The moment you stepped into the common area, you spotted Bakugou already up and dressed, his expression a mixture of irritation and exhaustion. His eyes flicked to you, and for a brief second, something like concern flashed across his face before it hardened into his usual scowl.

“Let’s get this over with,” he grumbled, not even bothering with a greeting.

You nodded, suppressing a sigh. “Good morning to you too, Bakugou.”

“Don’t start with me,” he snapped. “We’ve got work to do.”

The two of you made your way to the training grounds, where Aizawa was already waiting. He gave you both a brief nod, his eyes sharp as he assessed your condition.

“Today’s focus is control,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “You both need to understand the limits of the quirks you’ve inherited and how to push those limits without losing control.”

Bakugou let out a frustrated huff, crossing his arms. “This damn quirk doesn’t do anything unless someone’s hurt. How the hell am I supposed to train with that?”

Aizawa’s gaze didn’t waver. “Your task is to understand how the quirk functions, not just in combat but in a supportive role. Healing isn’t about destruction, it’s about precision. You’ll have to adjust.”

You watched Bakugou’s jaw tighten, but he nodded, albeit begrudgingly. You knew this was hard for him—he was used to relying on raw power, not finesse.

Aizawa turned to you next. “As for you, controlling Bakugou’s quirk requires not just physical strength, but mental focus. You need to understand the balance between releasing energy and holding back, or you’ll burn out.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of his words. The explosive power inside you was wild and untamed, unlike anything you’d ever experienced. It was as if the energy itself was alive, constantly demanding release.

“Understood,” you replied, trying to keep the nervousness out of your voice.

The training began in earnest, with Aizawa overseeing every move you made. Bakugou was tasked with practicing precision healing on small injuries—cuts and scrapes that Recovery Girl had created for the exercise. At first, he struggled, his hands trembling slightly as he tried to channel the healing energy. It was obvious that he found the process frustratingly slow compared to the immediate impact of his explosions.

You, on the other hand, were put through a series of exercises designed to help you control the volatile energy inside you. Aizawa instructed you to create small, controlled explosions, emphasizing the need to keep them contained and focused. It was easier said than done—every time you felt the power surge through your body, it took every ounce of concentration to prevent it from spiraling out of control.

Hours passed, and with each failed attempt, the frustration between you and Bakugou grew. He was used to being the best, the strongest, and now he was stuck with a quirk that required patience and care—qualities he wasn’t exactly known for.

As the afternoon wore on, Aizawa decided it was time for a break. He left you and Bakugou alone to cool off, but the tension between you was palpable.

“This is bullshit,” Bakugou muttered, pacing back and forth. “I’m a damn combat hero, not some—some healer!”

“You think this is easy for me?” you shot back, feeling your own frustration bubbling up. “Your quirk is like trying to hold back a storm! Every time I try to control it, it’s like it’s fighting me!”

Bakugou stopped pacing, turning to face you. His expression was a mixture of anger and something else—something you couldn’t quite place. “So what, you want to switch back right now? Because believe me, I’d love that.”

“It’s not like we have a choice, Bakugou,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “We have to figure this out, or neither of us is going to be able to do our jobs.”

For a moment, neither of you said anything. The silence stretched between you, heavy with unresolved tension. Then, Bakugou spoke, his voice quieter than before.

“I’m not used to relying on anyone else,” he admitted, his gaze dropping to the ground. “But this quirk... your quirk... it’s not something I can just power through.”

You were taken aback by his honesty. It was rare for Bakugou to admit any kind of weakness, let alone to you.

“I’m not used to this either,” you said, softening your tone. “But maybe... maybe we can help each other.”

Bakugou looked up at you, his eyes narrowing. “Help each other, huh?”

You nodded. “Yeah. We’re stuck with each other until we figure this out. So why not make the best of it?”

He didn’t respond right away, but after a moment, he let out a heavy sigh. “Fine. But don’t think I’m going to go easy on you.”

You couldn’t help but smile, despite the situation. “Wouldn’t expect anything less.”

The next few hours of training went a little smoother. With the tension between you somewhat diffused, you found that you were able to focus more on the task at hand. Bakugou, while still frustrated, seemed to be making progress with your quirk, his usual intensity tempered by a newfound determination to understand it.

And you, after several failed attempts, finally managed to create a controlled explosion that didn’t immediately backfire. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

As the day drew to a close, you both were exhausted, but there was a sense of accomplishment that hadn’t been there before. You were far from mastering each other’s quirks, but you were making progress, however slow it might be.

As you and Bakugou walked back to the dorms, the tension between you had shifted. It wasn’t gone, but it was different now—less about frustration and more about a shared understanding.

“Tomorrow’s going to be even harder, you know,” Bakugou said, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

You nodded, meeting his gaze. “I know. But we’ll get through it.”

For a moment, Bakugou didn’t respond. Then, with a slight smirk, he added, “You’re tougher than you look.”

You chuckled, feeling a strange sense of camaraderie forming between you. “And you’re not as scary as everyone thinks.”

“Don’t push it,” he warned, but there was no real bite to his words.

As you reached the dorms, you paused at the entrance, turning to face him. “Thanks, Bakugou. For, you know, not giving up on this.”

He looked at you, his expression unreadable for a moment before he simply nodded. “Yeah. Just don’t slow me down.”

...

The next morning, you woke up with a renewed sense of determination. Yesterday had been grueling, but it was only the beginning. You knew Bakugou wasn’t the type to back down from a challenge, and now, neither were you.

You made your way to the training grounds, expecting to see Bakugou already there. Sure enough, he was pacing back and forth, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. He glanced up as you approached, his eyes narrowing.

“Took you long enough,” he grumbled.

“Good morning to you too, Bakugou,” you replied, a hint of teasing in your voice.

“Tch, let’s just get this over with,” he muttered, but there was no real venom in his tone. If anything, he seemed almost... eager. “I’m not letting you slack off today.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” you said, rolling your shoulders to ease some of the tension. “So, what’s the plan?”

Bakugou crossed his arms, his brow furrowed as he thought. “We’re gonna push harder today. You need to get a better handle on my quirk, and I need to figure out how to make your damn healing work faster.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his determination. “Alright, then. Let’s do this.”

The training started off intense, with both of you pushing yourselves to the limit. You could tell Bakugou was holding back his usual criticism, focusing instead on guiding you through the intricacies of his quirk. He was surprisingly patient, correcting your form and offering tips on how to channel the explosive energy without losing control.

“Don’t think of it as a bomb going off,” he instructed, his voice surprisingly calm. “It’s more like... a controlled detonation. You control how much energy you let out and where it goes. Got it?”

You nodded, trying to focus on his words rather than the raw power surging through you. “Got it.”

After several attempts, you finally managed to create a small, controlled explosion without it blowing up in your face. The look of approval on Bakugou’s face was brief, but it was there.

“Not bad,” he admitted, crossing his arms. “Still a long way to go, though.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you replied, wiping sweat from your brow.

Bakugou grunted in response, then turned his attention to his own training. Watching him struggle with your quirk was a strange sight—it was so different from his usual explosive style. But he was persistent, refusing to give up even when the healing energy didn’t respond the way he wanted it to.

As the day went on, the two of you fell into a rhythm, working together to master each other’s quirks. There were moments of frustration, of course—Bakugou’s temper flared more than once, and you had to bite back your own irritation when things didn’t go as planned. But there were also moments of understanding, of silent communication as you both realized that this was about more than just training. It was about trust.

By the time the sun began to set, you were both exhausted, but there was a sense of accomplishment in the air. You had made progress—real progress—and it was something neither of you could deny.

As you sat down to catch your breath, Bakugou plopped down beside you, his usual scowl replaced by a more neutral expression.

“You’re not as useless as I thought,” he said, his voice low but not unkind.

You chuckled, leaning back on your hands. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Bakugou glanced at you, and for a moment, it seemed like he wanted to say something more. But instead, he just grunted and looked away.

The silence between you lingered, the air thick with unspoken words. You could sense Bakugou wrestling with something, his usual brashness replaced by a rare hesitation. It wasn’t like him to hold back, especially not when he had something to say. You waited, half-expecting him to snap out of it and bark another order, but instead, he remained quiet, staring off into the distance.

Finally, you broke the silence. “Bakugou, are you—”

“I’m not done with you yet,” he interrupted, his voice gruff. He turned to face you, the intensity in his eyes making it clear that whatever he was about to say, he meant it. “Don’t think just because you managed one good explosion, I’m gonna go easy on you.”

You raised an eyebrow, amused by his sudden shift back to his usual self. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

He narrowed his eyes, clearly not appreciating your sarcasm. “Good. ‘Cause tomorrow, we’re stepping it up. You’re gonna control that quirk like it’s yours, got it?”

You nodded, your own determination mirroring his. “Got it. But what about you? How are you feeling with the healing quirk?”

Bakugou’s expression darkened, and he looked away, jaw clenched. “It’s... different,” he admitted, almost grudgingly. “But I’ll figure it out. Don’t need you worrying about me.”

“I’m not worrying,” you corrected, leaning forward slightly. “I just know it’s not easy, especially for someone like you. You’re used to power, to taking things head-on. Healing requires patience, a different kind of strength.”

“Tch,” Bakugou scoffed, though there was no real malice in it. “I don’t need a lecture. I just need to keep at it.”

You smiled softly, nodding in agreement. “You’re right. We’ll both keep at it.”

He met your gaze again, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of something vulnerable in his eyes. It was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by his usual fire. “Don’t go thinking this changes anything. I’m still gonna be the one to master this first.”

You chuckled, standing up and stretching your arms. “We’ll see about that, Bakugou.”

He stood up as well, brushing dirt off his pants with a sharp motion. “You better be ready for tomorrow. I’m not holding back.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from you,” you replied, your tone light but sincere.

Bakugou gave a curt nod, then started to walk away, his usual swagger back in full force. You watched him go, feeling a strange mixture of exhaustion and anticipation. This quirk exchange had been anything but easy, but you couldn’t deny that it had pushed you both in ways you hadn’t expected.

As you turned to head back to the dorms, you couldn’t help but wonder what tomorrow would bring. Whatever it was, you were ready for it.

The next morning, you arrived at the training grounds to find Bakugou already there, as usual. His expression was set in a determined scowl, but there was something different in the way he looked at you—an intensity that went beyond his usual competitive nature.

“You’re late,” he growled, though you could tell he wasn’t actually mad.

“Good morning to you too, Bakugou,” you replied, your tone casual.

He didn’t respond to the greeting, instead jumping straight into the day’s training. “We’re starting with controlled detonations again. But this time, I want you to focus on precision. No more big blasts—you’re gonna make it small and controlled.”

You nodded, taking in his instructions. “Got it. And you?”

“I’m working on boosting the speed of your quirk’s effects,” he said, his voice clipped. “We don’t have time to wait around for it to kick in. If I’m gonna use it in a fight, it needs to work fast.”

You couldn’t help but feel a sense of admiration for him. Even though he was clearly frustrated with the limitations of your quirk, he was still determined to make it work. It was that relentless drive that had made him one of the top students at U.A., and it was starting to rub off on you.

The training was intense, with both of you pushing yourselves to the limit. You could feel Bakugou’s eyes on you as you practiced, his gaze sharp and critical, but also... something else. Something softer, more concerned. It was subtle, but it was there.

At one point, after a particularly successful controlled detonation, you glanced over at him, expecting a harsh critique. Instead, he just nodded, his expression unreadable. “Not bad.”

You smiled, taking the rare praise in stride. “Thanks.”

Bakugou grunted in response, then went back to his own training. The rest of the session continued in much the same way, with both of you making steady progress. By the time the sun was high in the sky, you were both drenched in sweat, but the sense of accomplishment was palpable.

As you sat down for a break, Bakugou joined you, his usual scowl softened slightly by exhaustion. He didn’t say anything at first, just stared out at the horizon.

After a long moment, he finally spoke. “You’ve gotten better.”

You blinked, surprised by the admission. “So have you. Your control with the healing quirk is improving.”

“Still hate it,” he muttered, but there was no real heat in his voice.

You chuckled. “I figured as much. But you’re making it work.”

He glanced at you, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Don’t think this means I’m going soft. I’m still gonna crush you once we get our quirks back.”

You met his gaze, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

Bakugou didn’t smile back, but there was a hint of something in his eyes—something that made your heart skip a beat. It was a look you’d never seen from him before, one that spoke of more than just rivalry or partnership. It was... something deeper.

Before you could dwell on it, he stood up abruptly, dusting off his pants. “Come on. We’ve still got work to do.”

You followed him back to the training area, trying to shake off the strange flutter in your chest. This was Bakugou, after all—intense, competitive, always ready to push himself and everyone around him to the limit. But as you watched him move with that raw, focused energy, you couldn’t help but notice something else.

He was... impressive. The way he approached everything with such determination, the sheer power he wielded even when limited by a quirk that wasn’t his own—it was hard not to be in awe of him. You’d always known Bakugou was talented, but seeing him adapt and overcome these challenges firsthand was something else entirely.

“Don’t just stand there,” he snapped, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Get ready.”

You nodded quickly, trying to focus on the task at hand. But as the training continued, you found yourself watching him more closely, admiring the way his muscles tensed with each movement, the sharp precision in his actions, the way his eyes never lost that fierce intensity. Even with your quirk, which required a completely different approach from his usual explosive style, he was relentless.

And then, there was the way he spoke���gruff and blunt, yes, but there was something in his voice that made you want to listen, to take his words to heart. He wasn’t just barking orders; he was guiding you, pushing you to be better, to master the power that he had spent years perfecting.

As you tried to channel the explosive energy into a controlled blast, you caught yourself staring at him again, noticing the way the sun highlighted the sharp lines of his face, the way sweat glistened on his skin, and the sheer confidence he exuded with every movement.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you quickly looked away, mentally swatting the thought away. Nope, not going there. This was Bakugou—arrogant, hot-headed, and always in competition mode. You couldn’t afford to let yourself get distracted, especially not by... that.

But the more you tried to push the thought away, the more it lingered at the back of your mind. You couldn’t deny that, despite his rough edges, there was something undeniably attractive about him. It wasn’t just his looks—though they certainly didn’t hurt—it was the way he carried himself, the way he demanded excellence not just from himself but from everyone around him.

“Focus,” Bakugou’s voice cut through your thoughts, sharp and commanding. He was standing close, too close, and you realized with a start that you had been completely zoned out. “What the hell are you doing? We’re not here to daydream.”

“Sorry,” you muttered, feeling your cheeks heat up as you forced yourself to focus. You took a deep breath, pushing all those distracting thoughts aside. “I’m ready.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, clearly not convinced. “Don’t let your mind wander. You need to stay sharp, or you’ll blow your damn face off.”

You nodded, trying to shake off the embarrassment. “I won’t. Let’s do this.”

Bakugou watched you for another moment, his gaze intense and scrutinizing. Finally, he stepped back, nodding slightly. “Good. Now, try it again. This time, don’t overthink it. Just let it flow.”

You took his advice to heart, focusing on the task at hand. But even as you concentrated on controlling the explosion, a small part of you couldn’t help but steal glances at him, admiring the way he effortlessly commanded the situation. It was maddening, really. How could someone so frustrating be so... captivating?

“Better,” he said after your next attempt, his voice still gruff but with a hint of approval. “You’re getting the hang of it.”

“Thanks,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. You were determined not to let him see how much he was affecting you.

But as the training continued, it became harder and harder to ignore the way your heart seemed to race whenever he was near, the way your thoughts kept drifting back to him despite your best efforts to stay focused.

By the time the session ended, you were physically exhausted and mentally drained. Bakugou was standing a few feet away, catching his breath, and you couldn’t help but notice the way his chest heaved with each inhale, the slight sheen of sweat on his skin, the fierce determination in his eyes.

And in that moment, as you watched him, you couldn’t deny it any longer: Bakugou Katsuki was attractive, and the thought was impossible to shake.

You quickly turned away, trying to suppress the feeling bubbling up inside you. This was Bakugou—your training partner, your rival, your... well, whatever he was. You couldn’t let yourself get distracted by something as ridiculous as a crush.

But as you walked back to the dorms together, exchanging the occasional word, you knew it wasn’t going to be that easy. Not when he was right there, with that intense gaze and that unwavering confidence, making it impossible to focus on anything else.

And as much as you tried to push the thought away, you couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if you let it stay.

[yandere--stuck]

Thinking about Yandere!Ratchet from Safety Hazard being on Synthetic Energon and being much more forward with his human. He’s definitely gonna be embarrassed by the way he was with them when he’s off of it lmao

“You're such a tease, you know that?” Ratchet hissed.

You blinked, not quite believing your ears. You turned about, furrowing your brows as you shot a look up to Ratchet at his station by the main computer screens. The green of his optics shone on you like spotlights, glowing brightly as he glowered down at you.

“Excuse me?” You asked, incredulous.

“You think I don't know what you're trying to do,” he sneered. “Showing up here, showing off your flesh, teasing me…”

“Ratchet, I'm not dressing any differently from what I usually wear!”

The medic growled, frustrated. “Then, it's not the clothes. It's just you. Something wrong with you that makes you beg for my attention.”

He took a sudden step toward you, the floor of the base shaking for a moment. You backed up, a sudden, cold wave of fear washing over you.

“Ratchet, stop,” You said, voice wary. “You're not making sense and you're scaring me.”

A smirk carved its way onto Ratchet’s face as he continued his slow advance on you.

“What doesn't make sense is what you do to me,” Ratchet purred, “I should be disgusted by the sight of your skin, but instead, I have the urge to reach out and-”

Large, stubby digits reached out to grab at you. You tried to sprint past his servo, but he was far too fast, scooping your small form into his servo and holding you tight in his grip. An involuntary shout escaped you, and your stomach dropped as Ratchet lifted you into the air. You were face-to-face with the Medic as he laughed, watching as you attempted to squirm and kick yourself free.

“Gotcha,” He grinned, green eyes shining with something that looked like hunger.

“Ratchet, p- please,” You gasped out, barely able to breathe. “It's the Synth-En! This isn't you.”

He didn't dignify your words with a response. He only continued to grin and hold you with his gaze.

Blood pounded in your ears to the beat of your rabbiting heart. As much as you tried to calm yourself and slow your breathing, you couldn't bring yourself under control. Terror shot through your nerves, your entire body taut like the string of a bow, bracing for Ratchet to crush you under his thumb.

But, he didn't. For too long a moment, he simply looked at you. Drank in the expression of fear on your face, how he had you right where he wanted you, like an organic prey animal in a trap. And, hey, that's basically what you were, right?

And then, the thumb of the servo holding you moved. An involuntary gasp bubbled up from your throat, sounding as desperate and breathless as a final breath. But, not to crush you. It brushed against your cheek, so decisive and purposeful. So gentle and just as potentially deadly.

You met his eyes.

“... You're my human. You know that, right?” He asked.

Your brows furrowed. What the Hell was he talking about? You opened your mouth to argue- but, as if reading your mind, Ratchet tightened his hold on you, silencing you.

“Don't lie to me, or I'll squeeze.”

Your breathing was shallow as you trembled in Ratchet's hold. His stubby digits curled tighter around you. You felt the pressure squeezing against your organs. The air was forced out of you, left coughing and unable to inhale. He simply watched as you spasmed and fought to be able to breathe.

And then he relaxed his hold. You quickly inhaled and exhaled, desperate to get air back into your burning lungs. Your body weak, all you could do was allow yourself to be held up by Ratchet as you recovered in his grip, panting like a dog.

“Now, what do we say?” Ratchet teased.

“I'm yours,” You relented. “I'm yours.”

“Now that's a good human.” Ratchet praised, expression just a touch softer. “And I trust the others won't be hearing about this when they get back. Right?"

[m3lodyxo]

Alright before I go and start my essay I need to get this off my mind.

Mizu and Archer!reader where they're staying in an inn or brothel and they both sense someone coming to attack them but before Mizu can draw her blade and go for the kill reader leaps at her, pinning her down to the floor, straddling her lap and whispering "Don't, I think they carry guns." but before she can argue back and object, saying she's perfectly capable of dealing with it reader draws her bow and arrow, fully concentrated, ignoring her and STILL STRADDLING HER.

Mizu just gawking at her, eyes wide, mouth slightly open in shock. Girl doesn't even know if she should be insulted or thankful you're thinking about her safety. She definitely feels her stomach doing a flip. Her hands instinctively placed on reader’s hips.

Poor woman is loosing her marbles. Reader releases the arrow and a grunt is heard, followed by a body falling to the floor a few seconds later.

When they go to inspect the body she's just starring in shock because how the fuck did you manage to strike a fatal blow like then when you couldn't even see through the screen? Mizu is well aware of your talent in archery but goddamn woman, what kind of sorcery is this? She's impressed and maybe slightly aroused.

Yeah.... I think I need professional help.

[duskier]

Cannot stop thinking abt ghost and his breeder balls and it’s your fault (said w love 💕)

Literally thinking about denying Ghost an orgasm for so long just because he's so strong and domineering but he's sooo much more obedient, you wanna see how long he will choose to be good and listen to you when you tell him he can't cum! He ends up with a painful erection and heavy balls every day over and over because he's so good for you and you are so mean :((

When he's fucking you, sure he could ignore your commands for him to stop, keep snapping his hips up into you the way you like until he's finally got the release he's craving... but he won't. Ghost is built for breeding- from his fat cock to his big barrell shaped body. He watches how your eyes sparkle with mischief with your order, his body going entirely rigid mid-thrust.

"I'm done," you say. "That's all, go clean yourself up, Si."

It's torture, and he has to clench his teeth to hold back a genuine sob of frustration as he pulls out of you. Another night of having to wait for his sensitive cock to go soft before he can even pull his boxers back on. (He loves you wielding the control over him that he's freely given you- despite his desire to cum, the feeling of coming down with his head in your lap makes it all better... until the next night. You keep him in denial until a small breeze threatens to finish him off- then you finally let him cum like he's made for.)

[sinfully02slow]

Out of my element here but

Appreciation post for those orv fans that dissect the story, analyze scenes, share their theories and perspectives here on Tumblr

It’s really cool to see how orv looks from your guys’s perspectives and realizing what some scenes meant

Heck, I believed Kdj’s narrative during the webnovel until the fandom woke me up and handed me depression word soup :)

Personally I can’t really put into words what I think and feel- being able to come across posts where it’s put into words just makes my day

Seeing the orv fandom share endless commentaries of the story, their reactions, alternate universe takes, theories and fanart- it all makes it feel like orv never really ended

But yeah, thank you

(Sorry if the post looked long, I didn’t like how the sentences touched, it looked too squished)

[morgaseus]

Sunday has you wrapped around his finger.

You love the man too much to even second guess him. Yet it is not him that you swore your oath to but to the family and the harmony. To harbor something other than disgust to a traitor, a follower of the Order at that, is tantamount to a sin, borderline blasphemous. He's always been virtuous, dedicated in upholding his duties for the family and the whole of penacony. You feel a dull aching emanating from the cavity of your chest; You'd never guessed he was the traitor all along. 

When you caught him in the middle of escaping from his cell, along with the wine purple haired woman- Kafka, a stellaron hunter, you surmised, you've seen her posters plastered in walls enough for you to recognize her anywhere. They’re recruiting him, you think. They're taking him away. Your mind tells you to uphold your duties as a member of the family. He’s a traitor to the family- to the harmony. He tried to usurped Lord Xipe! Your heart (aches to see him go, to leave you) tells you to let him go. To let him live, to experience everything for himself. 

You've always been the family's dog, always following their orders as if you were merely born for them and not for yourself. But this time, you decided to choose for yourself.

You let the halovian go. You clenched your hand, crescent shapes left at its wake. You don’t want him to leave, you never want him to leave because that would mean you would no longer see him. But if he were to stay here.. If he were to stay here, the family will capture him, hand him over to the IPC for trial (he will most likely be found guilty), imprison him until he rots in prison, until he serves his sentence. You don’t want that, you will never want that for him. Sunday has been nothing but kind to you. He treats you as if you were the most precious and fragile thing in the whole asdana system. He makes you feel, wanted, needed, loved. Even if you think his words were lies. So, you think, that is the best possible outcome.

He lived his whole life believing the sickly sweet poison instilled to him by the dreammaster (You’ve always thought there was something wrong with Mr. Gopher Wood). Nobody really sees how his left hand, that he always keeps at his back, would clench his right arm. Nobody sees how many nights he had to stay up, worrying, wondering, who could've killed his sister, why they killed her. Nobody- nobody sees his struggles. All they know is that he's sunday- the perfect, meticulous oak family leader. Sunday the traitor. Sunday the order’s remnant. He needs this. He needs another chance. So, you decided to let him go. Maybe then, he would learn to live for his sake. 

[harmonysanreads]

Cognitive dissonance occurs in the mind when a person's thoughts, beliefs or words run contradictory to their actions. Such as, saying “I hate [character] and I'm not going to write anything for them.” while posting fics for them every week or so.

[robo-writing]

To all Logan enjoyers what’s something you wanna talk about/see written and you haven’t seen anyone mention it before

[gothghostiie]

Why would I stop? You like it.

I bet you’d like kneeling for Price, giving him a little smile while you thank him for coming to visit you and feeling his big hand ruffle your hair before he picks you up gently and lays you on your plush bed for some snuggle time.

I bet you’d like Gaz’s soft, slow movements as he ties your hands behind your back and slips the blindfold over your eyes, holding still for him and dutifully opening your mouth when he tells you to, asking quietly after the meal when you’ll be allowed to feed yourself only for him to chuckle and kiss your forehead.

I bet you’d like waking up to Soap’s tongue lashing over your cunt, getting you ready for his cock, doing and saying whatever he tells you to if it means you’ll cum, even crying out how much you love him and how thankful you are that they all took you, that they keep you here.

I bet you’d like being fucked into the forest floor by Ghost while he holds you by the neck, keeping you prone while he growls out promises of what he and the others will one day do to their favorite pet, clenching around him in dual terror and desire, only for him to carry you home and sing you to sleep after you’ve been tended to.

I bet you’d like Rudy and Alejandro touching you everywhere, testing out what makes their new plaything scream, being held between them while they explore your body and use you for whatever they want, spending your nights with them inside you as you drift to sleep bound in their arms.

Am I correct?

ANON YOU GOTTA STOP GOD DAMN IT

[underground-secret]

The Hunter and the Witch~ Dean Winchester x f!reader

Description: More of Y/N's past is revealed. Dean is there to comfort her as he inquires about the parts she never shared. Warnings: Angst, talk of past abuse, child abuse, comfort, coping, understanding trauma, trauma, denial, no GIF sorry!

Tag list: @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @okayiamkassandra , @fablesrose , @ada--44 @bonkydarnes , @star-yawnznn @crazyunsexycool @onlyangel-444 @seninjakitey @mystic-mara

Word Count: 1,974

Words mean more at night

(Masterlist, Prev Ch, Next Ch)

A back-and-forth motion rubs against my knee but my eyes are down at the carpeted floors. Someone got me to my motel room.

I blink, my eyes tracing the movement to a familiar veiny hand. He’s kneeled in front of me, patiently waiting for me. His motion on my knee doesn’t stop as he smiles at me sadly, “Hey,” he says.

“Hi,” I answer weakly, watching his face for any changes. Carefully he raises his free hand to my hand, giving me time to back away. He covers my clutched hand, I hadn’t realized I was forming tight fists. He gently pries my fingers open revealing little alcohol packets. That’s the light thing I was handed to clean off the specks of blood…blood from—

“Hey, you’re okay,” Dean says softly, pulling me back to the present. He takes the packets from my hands, opening one carefully but before he moves to do anything he asks, “Can I?”

I nod, not trusting my voice. I know I wasn’t supposed to allow him our small touches but that can all be screwed right now. I want a hug and I want to hide under the covers until it all passes, as childish as it sounds. “Words,” he reminds. He had his nailbed-biting habits I had the habit of shutting down and he knew that well enough to try and push me out of it, even if it meant just answering verbally. “Yes, please,” I say just barely above a whisper.

The motion on my knee stops and with that same hand, he reaches up slowly to cradle my head, pushing some of my hair back. He gets closer to my face and with the alcohol pad he lightly rubs off a spec on my cheek, his eyes focused there. I knew what he was thinking, I could see the thoughts and questions swirling in his eyes. “You can ask,” I say, it’s better to get it over now. He doesn’t say anything for a beat as he cleans a couple of spots on my face, “Not my place too,” he answers.

He lets go of me, pushing off the balls of his feet, and standing up, he collects the scraps and walks to the other side of my small motel room to discard them.

I want to sink into myself, “You’re upset with me,” I tell him, knowing I'm right by his body language and just overall behavior. Again he doesn’t answer but I can see the tension in his shoulders and I know he’s holding back. I kick off my shoes, scooting back on the bed until my back hits the headboard. I bring my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around me as he fidgets with something on the counter. 

He turns around swiftly but doesn’t move towards me, “Why didn–” he cuts himself off, running a hand down his face. “I’m sorry,” I say softly.

He shakes his head, “No, you got nothin’ to apologize for sweetheart I–”

“You can say it. Let’s just talk about this now, I don’t like it when you’re upset at me,” I admit though I’m sure he already knew. He sighs, looking away, “I’m not upset at you.”

“You aren’t?” I ask, surprised.

“No. I’m mad I didn’t know,” he steps closer until he reaches the bed, “I should’ve known.”

I pat the spot next to me, allowing him to get closer so we could sit comfortably like old times, “We were young,” I reasoned. He takes the spot next to me, the bed dipping as he does, “I have two years on you,” he counters. I roll my eyes, he always tries to play that card. “Well, I was very good at hiding it, had to be. Plus…you heard what I said about B/N.”

He groans, frustrated, his head leaning back on the headboard, “That doesn’t make me feel better. Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve helped.”

“You had your own things to worry about. We didn’t see each other very often then either, we hung out more after he died and by then it was no longer an issue,” I explain. But he doesn’t respond. “I’m quite resilient you know. Not much can really kill me,” I add, trying to lighten the mood. His head snaps to me, “That doesn’t make it better. You were still…”

“It’s okay,” I say, focusing my eyes on the wall across the room. “It’s not,” he replies, “He died when you were 15, you had 3 years of that.” I’m almost surprised he remembered the exact time like that, though maybe he had been thinking about it and started to calculate. I don’t say anything for I have nothing to say at all, I don’t talk about it and I’ve tried to forget it. “I shoulda known,” he repeats. I turn my head to look at him being met with his side profile, his eyebrows scrunched together and his jaw tense, he was beating himself up over something he couldn’t control. “I didn’t expect you to help me or save me you know, or anyone for that matter. Just hanging out with you and Sammy was enough.”

His jaw seems to twitch, “I saw some bruises before, but you said it was from a hunt you helped your Dad with. You're a lousy liar so I should’ve known.”

“Dean,” I say firmly,  touching his shoulder. He meets my eyes, his green eyes are cold, “Trust me when I say it wasn’t your fault, it was no one’s fault. It just happened. And it’s over now, has been for a while.”

He swallows roughly, his Addams apple bobbing, and I know he doesn’t believe me, “It’s your Dad’s fault, he’s a prick. Don’t matter if he was grieving or not.”

I frown, remove my hand from his arm, and focus my attention back on the wall. I can feel his gaze burning into the side of my face, “Don’t tell me you actually feel bad for him…” he says but I don't answer, “You don’t blame him?” he asks confused, leaning forward in an attempt to catch my eyes. I shrug, shrinking further into myself in an attempt to make myself smaller, “I don–I don’t know. He wasn’t always like that…he just….Mom was gone so…” I exhale a shaky breath, “I know it was wrong, that he shouldn’t have been doing that. I know that. It’s not like I forgive him or anything, I mean he hurt my brother—”

“And you,” Dean cuts me off to add.

“Yeah…and I know there are healthier ways of coping, I don’t condone his actions and I couldn’t imagine how anyone could do that to their kids but Mom was gone and…”

“There is no ‘but’ and you know that. Your explanation isn't going anywhere ‘cause there’s no excuse for that,” he interjects firmly. I know he’s right, but it doesn’t feel right to believe or say and I don’t know why. “He was only mean when he was drunk, otherwise he was quiet or gone,” I try to reason but the words feel wrong as they leave my mouth. “Not an excuse,” he counters.

“I know,” I mumble, “But! It started as an accident!” I say looking at Dean, “And it was necessary. He was on a hunt by himself and we knew he would be back soon but it was late so me and B/N made dinner together, we ate and saved some for him. B/N ended up falling asleep early, his football practice totally knocked him out, so I stayed up and waited at the kitchen table to make sure Dad got home okay. When he finally did get home he was very drunk and smelt like alcohol, I helped him and he was babbling about Mom. He pushed me off of him, ‘said he could do it himself so I backed off a little.

Then he was trying to get to the fridge for another beer but I got in his way cause I knew he had too much and should have water instead, he called me some mean names that I don’t wish to repeat. I’m very stubborn so I didn’t move and he hit me, it was just a slap though. But I have this whole defense mechanism and if my body thinks it’s in true danger then my powers will start working to defend me without really my control, and it’s very hard to shut off. So things started to rattle, and a picture frame on the mantel of Mom broke and that really made him upset so he hit me again this time harder and I actually passed out. But that’s okay! cause nothing else broke and I could’ve really hurt someone or if it got too out of control then I could’ve gotten the attention of hunters.”

I stop my rambling of the story, watching Dean’s face to see if he finally understood. But his eyes were filled with so much sadness and his face dropped with sympathy, a frown on his lips. “What?” I ask confused, didn’t he get it now? He doesn’t answer, instead, he wraps his arms around me, bringing me into his chest. I shift my legs so I can hug him back comfortably, but I hold onto his arms more confused than anything. “Wasn’t necessary,” he says, his chin on my head. I open my mouth to say something else, to say he’s wrong but it hits me then. I was being an idiot, a total fool.

If someone told me that story I would feel bad for them and say they didn’t deserve that, they did nothing wrong in the first place. But it wasn’t someone else’s story, it was mine, and somehow that made it different. Right?

It shouldn’t. I know it shouldn’t, so why do I feel this way? I’m not normally like this. “Wasn’t your fault. You were a kid and you were trying to help, he’s an asshole and shouldn’t have done any of it,” Dean says softly.

Tears run down my cheek. I didn’t like his Dad because he didn’t treat them well so why was I making excuses for my Dad? Was it because of Mom? She loved him so wholly but still would have despised what he became, did he know that? Did that only make him feel worse?

And just because he wasn’t always mean to us doesn’t mean it was okay. Because it was more than being mean, I know that.

I know by morning I’ll be in a better mood. I’ll have a different perspective on things that I won’t understand for a while, I’m self-aware enough to know that too. But it will be okay because things always turn out okay, they always get better. Tomorrow will always be a new day and the sun will shine brighter.

I pull away from Dean just far enough to look at him, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, it was nothin’ against you.”

He gently wipes away a tear falling down my cheek, “Stop apologizing.”

I open my mouth to apologize for apologizing but seeing the issue there I lean my head into his chest again. We stay there silently for a while and I try to focus on the soft rise and fall of his chest instead of my mind. He rubs a hand up and down my back, and my shoulders drop. It’s been a long day with a lot of emotions and I was tired. “He can’t hurt you anymore. ‘Won’t let anyone hurt you,” he whispers just barely audible. But my eyes were fluttering shut, growing heavy so maybe I imagined it and the soft press of his lips to my crown.

Tomorrow will be better, I remind myself.

[sagesskies]

ʀɪᴄʜᴀʀᴅ ꜱʜᴇᴘʜᴇʀᴅ

✒ ʙᴜʀɴɪɴɢ ᴘɪᴄᴛᴜʀᴇꜱ

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ: ɪᴍᴘʟɪᴇᴅ ɴᴏɴᴄᴏɴ, ᴄʜᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ

“You’ve ruined me,” Richard pants, his blonde hair is sticking up, he’s covered in a light sheen of sweat, and his green eyes are blown wide open as he tries to compose himself, “I… I can’t- Hannah could never…” 

He stares at you as you lie below him, equally sweaty, your neck and shoulders are littered with hickeys and bite marks, and you’re on the verge of passing out. The rims of your eyes are red, and your face is moist with tears. Your lip is swollen from Richard’s teeth digging into them, nearly tearing them off in his fervour. 

You look like you’re about to die. 

He looks more alive than he ever has before. 

Richard looks like he wants to do it again. 

Yet his eyes are filled with fear, and you want to laugh, but your throat is crying out in pain.

“You’ve ruined me.”

☏ - ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇᴍᴀɪʟ: ᴍʀ. ꜱᴀɢᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴍɪɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏᴘᴇɴ, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ'ᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ.

[cuinaminute229]

I'm trying to finish my Rio x reader fic so I don't have to remember that Agatha all along ends today 😭

[mrsoharaa]

Cult leader! Suguru x cautious ex lover (reader me lol jk…kinda) 🖤😮‍💨🫶🏼

[glittering-moonlillie]

Headcannons: Damian Wayne with a reader who loves exotic animals

Damian was no stranger to housing animals. Whether it be cats or turkeys, he loved them all. Oftentimes, he preferred the comfort of his animals rather than his family or friends. He felt like the animals understood him way more than anyone ever could without him having say much

When he got older, he swore to himself that he would get a lover who was just as much of an animal lover as him. He had even fantasized about owning a huge house filled with pets with his lover. An animal sanctuary if you would. 

That is why Damian had his eyes set on you. Your love for animals almost matched his own. It was admirable, the way you seemed to be an animal magnet wherever you went. It was like watching Snow White go about her day. 

But none of this is why he wanted you, no. 

Your love for animals was adorable yes, but it wasn’t that that he was drawn to. It was the certain types of animals you were fond of that made his icy walls melt. 

You and Damian were in his room at the manor having a nice hangout session when the topic of favorite animals were mentioned. Alfred was in your lap snoozing while you were scrolling through Pinterest, occasionally squealing at certain photos. 

Damian couldn’t help it, his curiosity got the better of him. As he looked over your shoulder, he noticed you scrolling through numerous pictures of amphibians, particularly frogs and axolotls. 

“Look at how cute and chunky these animals are, Dami!!” You shoved the phone in his face so he could get a better look. 

These animals indeed were cute, so cute in fact that it almost made Damian jealous. How dare these animals steal your attention away from him? 

“I’ve always wanted to have a huge house with a bunch of frogs and hedgehogs and axolotls and fancy goldfish, but I don’t really have that kind of money and every guy I have been with doesn't really share my…enthusiasm for those types of animals…” You had let out an awkward chuckle, hoping that he didn’t make fun of you like everyone else had. 

Damian almost dropped the phone when he heard those words fall out of your pretty mouth. 

A girl as beautiful as you wishing to have a house with numerous animals just like him? He may as well propose to you right then and there!

Problem was, you guys weren’t even together yet. He can’t possibly propose to you if he does not know if you feel the same way about him! 

So he went with the next best option

“How many frogs were you hoping to foster?”

You stared up at him blankly before responding, “As many as I possibly could in a lifetime. Why?”

This mf couldn’t even hold back his smirk. 

“I suppose I wouldn’t mind adopting some adorable frogs for your enjoyment.”

The squeal you emitted nearly made him deaf but it was worth it just to see that stupidly contagious smile. 

You both agreed that the frogs would stay at the manor since there was more room. Damian was ecstatic about this since it gave you a reason to come over more often. He didn’t tell you this of course. 

When you asked him what he wanted in return, he merely stated that he wanted you to go with him to see a movie you had previously turned down. 

“So…a date?”

“TT, it’s insulting that you would even think that.” 

It totally was a date. 

Give it a few months and you eventually become his beloved.

Give it a few more months after that and he’ll purchase a decently large house for you to adopt as many chunky animals as you wanted.

He still can’t tell if it was the worst or best decision he has ever made. 

Damian had thought he was bad with his habit of bringing home exotic animals, but you really topped the list. Every time you saw another lizard or raccoon or snake that was in need of fostering, you would beg him to let you keep them. 

To this date, he has never said no to you. 

And that is how you and Damian became the parents of 20 happy and adorable animals. 

I am so happy that I have been a been able to keep consistent with this blog, and that people actually seem to like my writings! If you couldn't tell by my banner, I am a huge animal lover (mostly with frogs and axolotls <3)! As a side note, I think it's important to mention that Axolotls are actually extremely endangered and it might not be the best decision to keep them in captivity.