#that i don’t want to see another animal for at least the rest of the day and i sometimes feel like I can’t even tolerate seeing my own dog | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

buckys-wintersoldier · 10 days

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Like an animal | Bucky Barnes

Pairing -> Avengers!Bucky Barnes x Avengers!Fem!Reader

Summary -> When you don’t want to hear when Bucky says something and you get hit by sex pollen he makes sure you know that you should listen to Bucky when he says something.

Wordcount -> 2.371

Warnings -> (E) 18+, Minors DNI, smut, sex pollen, slight thigh riding, oral (fem!receiving), unprotected p in v, rough sex, hate sex, using of the word slut

Request -> Heyyy. I saw your Bucky smut menu and I couldn’t resist lol. Could you do 1. Either enemies to lover or sex pollen (maybe both idk im not picky) 2. Protective Bucky (I wouldn’t oppose to him being slightly jealous too lmao) 3. Oral f receiving and hate sex. And for the petnames I cannot stand anything like pet, kitten, bunny, puppy. No shame to ppl who like them, im just more simple. I'm fine with stuff like babe/baby, doll, honey, sweetheart. I hope this wasn’t too picky lol😭❤️🤞🏾 @blckbarbiedoll

A/N -> Thank you so much for the request. I hope you like it. I tried to include everything you asked for so yeah just read and decide if you like it or not I guess haha. Divider made by @firefly-graphics.

Events -> Bucky Barnes Smut Menu

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Bucky groans when you just hit the Hydra Agent before he runs away and you follow him. The brown-haired man told your brother he would take care of you, but you’re always so stubborn around him and need to prove that you can do things on your own. Of course he knows, but being the protective man he usually is, he is even stronger when he is with you. Not only because of your brother, who is also his best friend, but also because he likes you. Way more than he admits, he really likes you since the day you started to work together, and the two are always around each other. But a part of him hates you for being so stubborn; at least he hates you in a way that he wants to fuck your attitude out of you and teach you some manners.

He tried to convince you to help, but you were just shaking your head and pushed him away before you punched the other agent. Bucky was standing there, rolling his eyes, but he knows he shouldn’t make you angry; otherwise, he would get some punches as well.

When you run after the agent, he follows you with a groan. Looking around the corner to be sure there is no other agent. When Bucky walks around the corner, the floor is empty, and he can only hear some shouts and some noises, which tell him that you’re beating the guy up.

Meanwhile, you’re in a room with the agent; he just ran into it, and in your headspace of wanting to punch him, you follow him. You don’t really look around you; you’re not noticing the suspicious things around you. The only thing you’re focused on is the Hydra agent opposite you.

“You’re such a naive little girl, aren’t you?”

“Shut up. You don’t know me, and a little girl couldn’t punch you like that,” you shout and walk closer while you lift your hand.

He laughs darkly, waiting until you’re just a few steps away. Then he pushes a button, and a loud noise echoes through the room. You immediately cover your ears with your hands, trying to make the noise quieter. The agent pushes you to the side; you fall and crash against a table before you fall to the ground and make yourself smaller. You press your legs to your chest, your head resting on your knees, while you see the man pushing another button. Then he leaves the room, the noise gets quieter, and you inhale loudly, relaxing your body while there is a complete silence in the room.

You slowly sit up, looking around, but the Hydra agent isn’t in the room anymore. The doors are closed, and you inspect the things around you. There are a lot of containers, big containers. They are filled with some kind of colorful gas, and you wonder what kind of experiments they are doing there.

“Y/N? Are you there?” Bucky shouts from outside the room, trying to open the door.

“Bucky, did you catch him?”

“No?”

“Then do it!” you shout annoyedly back and roll your eyes.

“No! We need to get you out of that lab; there are chemicals.”

You sigh, annoyed. Bucky crashes with his shoulder against the door. While you hear him groaning, you stand up and walk over to one of the containers.

“BUCKY!”

“What? I try to open the door, oke!”

“Yeah, hurry up. It-It’s cooking,” you shout back, taking a step back when the liquid connects itself with the gas.

“What?”

Before you can answer, it bangs, and a big cloud of liquid and gas is over the container, slowly getting bigger like the fog during a rainy and cold morning.

“What the fuck are you doing there?” Bucky asks, and you laugh sarcastically.

“I didn’t do anything. Here are some liquids and gases, and it just- I don’t know. It’s green! Is that normal? Is it supposed to be green?”

“I don’t know. I’m not Bruce.”

“Bucky! James! When he is green, it’s not good, so get me out of that room.”

The fog coats the room, and even when you try not to inhale it, you feel it slowly rushing through your veins, and everything starts to tingle. You feel like you get needy in a way you never were before, and you feel your pants dripping, soaking your panties immediately. You moan softly, your hand slides between your legs, and you shiver at the touch of your fingers. You rub the fabric of your panties and pants against your wet folds, feeling a bit of relief when you move faster against your fingers. A moment later, the door crashes, and you remove your hand. With wide eyes, you look at Bucky, who just broke the door and is looking around.

“Get out of there, doll,” he demands, holding his hand out for you to grab it.

“B-Bucky. I-“

He makes you shut up when he holds your hand and pulls you against him. His firm, muscular chest presses against you, and you groan softly. His leg is pressed against your cunt, and you start to grind yourself against it, making Bucky look at you with furrowed eyebrows.

“What do you think you’re doing there?”

“Please, those- Bucky- Sex pollen,” you mumble, your head falling against his chest while you move your hips slowly against his thigh.

He gasps, his hands immediately around your waist to push you back slightly. Your head falls back, and your eyes are filled with pure desire and lust when you look at him. You bit onto your lip, trying to push your hips against him, feeling the friction you had when you moved against his leg, but he holds you still.

“Please, Bucky.”

“You should learn some manners, shouldn’t you? Running after a Hydra agent and being in one room with him. He could have done filthy things to you. Do you like that? Do you like being used by a man?” Bucky groans; his eyes darken when he feels his dick harden in his pants.

As much as he hates the thought of you being used as a fuck toy by someone else, he loves the thought of using you as his own little doll. Where he can let out his jealousy and his frustration that you just can’t listen during missions and that you always talk back.

“Answer me!" his tone is rough, his fingers digging into your waist, and you moan softly.

“Yes.”

Bucky groans and leans closer to you. Then he presses his lips onto yours and pulls you closer, his hard dick pressing against your stomach, and you whimper. His hands roam over your body, finding their way up your sides, squeezing your breasts through the fabric of your shirt and bra before he slides them back down and lifts you up. You wrap your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck, and your lips never leave his while he carries you to the next counter he can find.

With one movement, he shoves everything off the surface and places you on top of it. He takes a step back, still spreading your legs apart while his hands glide along your thighs. Bucky grips the waistband of your pants, tugging at them. You move your body up to help him so he can take off your pants and panties. And he does; he shoves both down your legs and smirks when he sees your already dripping pussy. You moan; the cold air hitting your wetness makes you even more desperate, and you want to move a hand between your folds, but Bucky stops you, gripping your hand and pushing it away.

“Don’t dare to touch yourself. You need to learn manners, and I will teach you them.”

Bucky gets on his knees in front of you, his hands sliding along your thighs before he grips them and holds them apart. Then he kisses a trail along your stomach until he reaches your pussy. His tongue slides through your folds softly, and the warmth of it lets you shiver. Bucky lets go, smiling when he sees your hands gripping the surface to ground yourself.

“Good girl,” he praises.

With a short kiss on your stomach, he guides his tongue back to your folds, sucking softly at your clit and circling it with his tongue before he lowers his movements to your entrance. Your moans and whimpers encourage him to continue to give you the pleasure you want him to give you with his tongue.

“Don’t cum before I allow you to cum.”

You nod, and he raises an eyebrow, looking at you. His hot breath against your wet pussy, coated in your arousal and his saliva. Bucky works his tongue slowly inside of you, taking his time while you push yourself more against him, trying to get more of his tongue. More of him inside of you.

“Bucky-“

“I teach you manners. So we go by my pace,” he explains, kissing your clit.

“You’re a tease, aren’t you, Barnes?”

“Such a big mouth for such a little girl, huh?”

He nibbles softly at your clit, sliding his tongue through your folds again before he kisses every inch of your private part. Bucky loves the way you whimper to get more of the pleasure he gives you. He brings you close to your orgasm, but whenever you want to cum, he just kisses your skin softly. He just needs to push his tongue inside of you, and you are almost over the edge, your walls clenching around him, and he imagines his dick inside your wet, warm hole. The way you’re going to squeeze it when you cum and the way you will moan his name when he thrusts his dick deep inside of you.

Bucky gets up, making you whine. He smirks, his hands still sliding over your thighs before he removes them. You want to protest, but you don’t when you hear him unbuckling his belt before he pushes his pants and boxers down. His hard cock springs free, the tip leaking with pre-cum. He is huge, and you smirk softly when you see the veins running along his shaft. Bucky grabs his cock, stroking it a few times while he rubs his thumb over his tip and smears the pre-cum all over his dick. Then he slaps his dick against your clit, making you gasp.

“You’re so needy,” he says, his cock resting between your wet folds.

Then he likes his dick up with his entrance and pushes himself inch by inch inside of you. He stretches you open like no one ever did before, and your walls are already squeezing his dick. Bucky tries his best not to cum immediately; the warmth and tightness of your pussy make him go crazy. He pushes himself inside of you completely. You moan loudly, your hands find their way to his shoulder, and you grip them. Then you pull him closer, and Bucky breaks the distance between your lips, kissing you roughly while he gives you a moment to adjust to his dick.

Bucky pulls out of you, thrusting inside of you even harder. He is rough, fucking your attitude out of you and the way you talk back. He slams his dick inside of you, forcing it completely between your tight walls. You almost scream at the harshness of his thrusts, his balls slapping against your ass while he fucks you like a wild animal. But the two of you need it - the roughness, the slight pain inside of you, which turns slowly into pleasure. A kind of pleasure you never felt before, one only he can give you while he fucks you like a slut, a toy that just wants to be used by Bucky.

“I hate your fucking attitude,” he says, pulling out to slam his dick harder inside of you.

You scream, your fingers digging into the skin of his back. Your back arches, and you move against him, wanting him deeper.

“I hate the way you always need to talk back.”

He uses his metal hand to grip your throat. Bucky just holds his hand there; he doesn’t squeeze your neck.

“Fucking. Little. Slut,” he groans between his thrusts.

“Bucky- I’m-“

“Shhh. But even when you annoy me with that, I love you, doll,” he admits while he fucks you like an animal.

You throw your head back, overwhelmed by the pleasure he gives you. You feel every vein of his cock; he hits your sweet spot whenever he thrusts inside of you.

“I wanna cum, please. I- Bucky, I love you too. Can I cum? Please?”

He chuckles, bringing his other hand to your clit and rubbing circles on it. At the same harsh pace, he pushes his high lengths inside of you.

“Cum, doll. All over my dick.”

And you do as he tells you. While you scream his name in pleasure, you feel the know in your stomach snapping, and you cum all over his dick. Bucky watches in awe at you while you cum, then he looks down where his dick is connected with you. His cock is covered in your cum, and he groans. When you squeeze him even more, he doesn’t need long until he cums inside of you, painting your walls with his seeds while he slows his movements. You both breathe heavily, your bodies covered in sweat, and Bucky lets himself fall down on top of you. Your hands slide from his shoulders into his soft brown hair, and you play with them.

“Do you mean that, doll?”

“What?”

“That you love me too.”

“Yeah, I love you, Buck.”

He smiles, leaning closer to kiss you softly. His plumb lips perfectly fit against yours.

“Let’s clean us, and then we go back to the compound. I will make sweet love to you there. How does it sound? And then a movie night.”

“But I decide the movie,” you say.

The two of you laugh before he kisses you again and slowly pulls out of you. Bucky helps you to clean yourself before he cleans himself between a lot more kisses.

┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨

𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬

┗━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┛

Taglist: @sergeantbarnessdoll @kandis-mom @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @bucky-barnes-lover @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry

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abbyromanoff · 9 months

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WHIPPED

PAIRINGS: Natasha Romanoff x reader

WORD COUNT: 1,009

WARNINGS: fluff, small smut, mentions of straps, Nat being completely whipped, Wanda being a tease, fwb, small angst

THIS WAS A REQUEST FROM THIS ANON!!

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

“So, same time next week?” Nat asked, a small hopefulness in her tone. She was leaning on her elbow, the blanket covering the rest of her nude body. You were sitting on the edge of the bed trying to gather your clothing that had been tossed away after your activities.

This has been going on for close to three months now, you’d meet up every few days to have meaningless sex, at least that’s what it started as. The two of you had quickly grown more than platonic feelings, but you were both blinded to it. Which is why everyone else had started to get fed up with your behavior towards one another.

“Yeah, I’ll text you whenever I’m free.” You smiled before kissing her cheek and leaving with a quick glance. She grinned to herself, cuddling into the stuffed animal you had gotten her. Nobody had ever gotten to see this side of her, and she was planning to keep it that way, but she didn’t expect to meet you.

The next day she had woken up to the sounds of rain pouring outside of her window. She quickly got ready and walked down the stairs to see you along with a few others in the kitchen.

“Hey guys, hey, Y/N.” You looked over your shoulder to see her wearing a sports bra and leggings with her hair in a ponytail, you had to hide your face as you bit your lip.

“Hey, Nat.”

“Hey.” You chuckled as you heard water overflowing from her water bottle and dripping onto the floor. She pulled it back and mumbled a small ‘shit’ under her breath. Wanda stifled a laugh as she shared a look with you, smirking as she took a small sip of her coffee.

“Here, Nat, I thought you might be hungry.” You handed her a plate of her favorite, an omelet with cheese and onions. She had always thought Melina would make the best eggs, but you changed her view entirely.

“Oh, t-thank you.” She quickly lowered her gaze as your eyes connected, your hand brushing hers as the plate was transferred into her hold.

“You’re welcome. Hurry up though, I don’t want to wait on you all day.” She was your sparring partner and had been since the first day. You two were placed in similar programs when you were children, so it was only best to test your abilities.

“You are so pussy-whipped.” Wanda chuckled when you left, receiving a glare from the redhead.

“Am not!” She defensively returned, taking a bite of her breakfast and lowly moaning at the taste.

“Really? So you don’t have feelings for her?”

“Nope, it’s just sex between us.”

“Good sex?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t even know- but that’s- that’s besides the point, I’m not in love with her.” Wanda eyed her suspiciously and Nat continued to stand her ground.

“I never said you were in love with her, I just asked if you liked her.” Nat rolled her eyes before placing the dish in the sink, her plate being completely cleared from every drop of food you served her. She really needed your cooking skills, maybe you could teach her. Maybe you could guide her as she added each ingredient into the pan, kissing her neck from behind and telling her how good she’s doing.

“I can read minds, Nat.” Wanda grimaced in disgust, making fake gagging noises and further annoying her teammate. Nat left the room and made her way to you, her mind begging for a break from the thought of you. Thinking about you made her so happy, but remembering it was just a thought brought a frown to her face, one that you wished you could kiss away.

Later in the week, you found yourself back in her bed, back in her hold.

“I love you, baby, love you so fucking much.” She muttered as her strap pounded into you repeatedly. You guessed it was an in-the-moment type of thing, but the way she spoke the words while lovingly kissing your neck made your head fill with possibilities.

“I love you too, Natty, I love you.” She stared deep into your eyes before her lips connected with yours. It wasn’t the same as usual, you could feel her emotions pouring into it.

That night was the first time you stayed, resting in her arms and replacing your teddy bear. She slept better than she had in years with you by her side, and it only became better when she woke to your sleeping form still with her.

The two of you walked into the kitchen shortly after you woke up, her hand toying with your fingers. She bit her lip with a giddy smile as your ring swirled as she turned it.

“Morning, lovebirds.” Wanda winked at you two playfully and you rolled your eyes, Nat didn’t seem to notice as she was too busy admiring your features. She didn’t know how you could possibly look even more beautiful than before, but somehow you did.

“Where are you going?” She dragged out, feeling your arm release hers as you started walking over to the stove. She followed behind you closely and let her arms wrap around your waist, her front pressed up against your back while her head rested on top of yours.

“Hi.” She whispered, earning a small chuckle from you. You turned your head to look at her, giving her a small peck on the lips before returning her greeting.

“Hello, my love.”

“You’re so pretty.” She gushed, making your cheeks turn a shade of red and matching her luscious hair.

“As are you, Nat. Do you mind grabbing me some milk from the fridge?” You two hadn’t even paid attention to the other guest in the room watching with a smile, only to make a face of disgust when Nat walked by. The older woman gave her a dark glare as she went to her side,

“So pussy-whipped.” Was all she said before walking away, a smirk planted on her face.

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moonit3 · 1 month

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How about a Yandere! Monster Mimic, where falling in love with a human reader...

(The mimic is a shapeshifting monster that can transform into an object or anyone it has seen, of course it can revert to its true amorphous form if it wants to.)

another non-human of for my blog? yes, please.

MY NON-HUMAN HUSBAND IS PERFECT!

➽ context warnings: male! yandere but he can shapeshift, fluffy content, gn! reader, mentioned cheating but nothing happening, also there isn’t much warning in this one.

➽ word count: 1.8k

➽ synopsis: your monster husband is the best thing to ever happen to you and there is no way you could forget him for that.

➽ yandere! mimic monster x gn! reader

➽ a/n: so you know when shows/anime have small segments inside the same episode (like saiki kusuo and the way of a househusband)? if the answer is yes, then i can tell you that i have write this since i watch them recently and got in the mood for something different compared to my past works. also, shot out to me if there is any mistaken down here!

tv show!

a soup opera is at the tv and smash can’t take his eyes off the screen, not even hearing you calling him to eat. instead, he just keep changing his appearance every time a new actor show up at the scene.

“nash!” you called him, but falling to gain his attention when he doesn’t even bet an eye at you. “it’s time for dinner, remember?”

no answer, he keep watching the tv on his own as the show continues to show the leads going to a wedding between another characters. the humanoid creature returned to his original form when seeing the groom and the bride kissing each other at the altar, afterwards he turn to see you and it was easy to understand what he wants to learn about the scene.

“to make the marriage officially end, the groom and the bride have to kiss each other after promising to spend their lifes together.” you replied. “but something they don’t work together and split up after. it’s common to happen, just like it happened to my uncle and aunt.”

he nodded, taking your words to consideration before going back to watch the soup opera, but this time with a bowl of rice that he began devouring without hesitation. nash always acts like he hasn’t eaten in days, when in fact, he had breakfast and lunch not long ago.

decided that you won’t dry the dishes for now, you took a place next to nash on the couch, watching the tv with him in silence. without taking his many pairs of eyes of the screen, he pulls you closer by his crawl, making you rest your head at his arm.

a smile grown on your lips when he does that, not only that makes you feel safer, but also relaxes your mind. it’s a sweet reminder that nash cares about you, even though he never spoken a word to you and the fact of him being whatever he is doesn’t change how much you care about him.

the cat

it already the third time that nash ended with his face full of cuts and bruises after another failed attempt of petting the stray cat that comes around home. you would be laughing if the whole event wasn’t sad, well at least, to his eyes.

“don’t cry, baby.” the sniff coming from the creature has become a common scene since the first time the stray cat has visited you and the cat always left after making nash’s face their newest canvas. “i’m sure that one day, the stray will become more docile and let you pet their fur. maybe even entering our house to sleep with us.”

he continues to sob regardless of yours words, but he remains still under your care when applying another band aid to his face. it’s a unique scene to have a two meter creature full of colorful band aids on his face, like he has been a victim of children’s drawing.

after you finished taking care of him, nash move away from your touch and made his way out towards outside the cabin, where he began sunbathing and stare out into the sky. to make sure he won’t get in trouble, you took a seat at the couch from the front porch, watching nash resting the sun and not giving much thought to the the wild animals that live around the cabin.

the breeze hitting your body makes you drowsy and your eyes can’t hold much longer, not after working hours and hours to fix the roof before the winter comes around. a yawn escapes your lips before you start feeling tired and your mind begging you to fall asleep after working long hours, but another side of you is forcing your mind to stay awake to spend more time with nash. and speaking of him, the monster approaches you with something in his arms.

“what it is, nash? another worm or grasshopper?” you asked, but seeing his smile reaching both of his ears confirms that it’s something even better. “show me.”

and he does. in his arms rests the stray cat that has been visiting the cabin for the past few weeks, but today it seems friendly, showing no signs of aggression towards nash as it usually does. because of that, he looks happier with the cat peacefully sleeping in his arms like a baby.

the scene itself is an adorable one, something that could easily come out from a kids’ shows and you could smile at nash for finally befriending the cat. your husband look so happy when snuggling the small animal, almost like he wasn’t crying just moments ago from being rejected from said animal.

the smile on your face grown more on your lips when you patted the stray cat, seeing the tiny animal enjoying being on nash’s laps only made you relaxed more, specially when he sat next to you to let you pat the cat even more.

“do you want to keep it?” he nodded, enthusiastic about the idea. “then, we should get a few things for the little one tomorrow when going to the town. got it?” he nodded again.

another yawn came out of your lips, making nash ware of your tiredness and he adjusted your head to be the one laying on his shoulder. even with your eyes closing, you can feel his form shape into a soft fur that makes you wonder if he knows that you love when he does that.

“im going to take a nap, wake me up in a hour or so…” and with that, you began dreaming on nash’s shoulder and he couldn’t be happier to have you by one side and the cat in the other side of his arm. the two most important things to him in the same place.

the old lady and the store

“i know your secret, young blood.”

your eyes widen open when the old lady’s words reached your ears, it’s only seven in the morning and there is already a problem that you need to solve...did nash got in another trouble with the town people? you hope not.

“my secret?” you played like you didn’t know what she is talking about, pretending to be a fool is an easy job for you. “i think you are mistaken, lady. i am nothing, but a mere normal hunter that lives in the woods.”

she didn’t buy your words, not when a grin suddenly emerged at her thin lips, you could already guess the many words that she would say about nash and you can imagine how the townspeople will hunt down nash. however, you stood quiet in front of the balcony, pretending to be a normal hunter while the old lady just stared at you.

“don’t play the idiot, kid.” she got up from her seat, even being shorter than you, the lady knows how to make her presence known and scary. “i know that young hunters like you always have your dirty secrets inside those wooden cabin.”

you only stared at her, not saying any words as she walked closer to you to take a better look at how shaken you have gotten with her intimidation. it’s hilarious that a hunter would be a the mercy of an old widow lady like her, one that barely hits your shoulder, the others would laugh at this scene.

“tell me, young blood.” her voice is now like a thunder stomping inside your head. there is no other clients at the store, so she didn’t need to low her voice at you. “how many people are you sleeping with?”

…

….

“excuse me? i-i am not sleeping around!”

the old lady laughed at your reaction, not caring if her loudness would reach outside the market, everyone of the town knows better than spying at her. it’s clear to those who could hear outside that you have become her newest victim to her attention and curiosity.

“please, kid.” she patted your shoulder when returning to her seat behind the balcony, this time with the biggest smile you ever saw at her lips. “i know everything about everyone at this small place and i know that you have been *hanging out* around with different people by every week that you comes to the town to sell your goods.”

“you are mistaken, lady!” you tried to make her rethink about the subject, but you quickly realized that she won’t hear you, not when she already looks absolutely certain about your ‘affairs’.

“don’t worry, kid. i won’t tell your husband about it.” she winked, giving you an even big smile when referring about your so called ‘partner’. “after all, i was just like you during my young days. full of beauty and grace, ready to make anyone fall to my feet and trust me, i was good at it~”

her rambling gains an extra awkwardness when you remember that nash did took many humans forms when coming to the town for the past months with you. he would often take different appearances when accompanying you, sometimes he would resemble a bombshell girl from those old magazines or maybe a good looking man from those old spies movies that you often caught him watching instead of sleeping.

well, at the bright side of this situation. the old lady believes you are sleeping around, not that you share the house with someone not human…so things are going good for you, right?

“that’s nice to hear, lady.” your lips curves into an nervous smile when she hands the products and that you quickly put inside your bag, wanting to leave fast as possible. “but i got to go, you know, to meet one of my ‘contacts’.”

she stares at you, again with her classic smile that reaches both of her eyes, “don’t forget to tell me about it when you come back to shop!” and with that, you finally leave the market with your bag full of stuff for the incoming winter.

the path back home was a peaceful one, no wild animals has tried to approach you and the rain didn’t start yet, so nothing has happened during your walk. once you have arrived at the cabin, nash welcomed you with open arms and brought you to a hug and began acting so happy, like you haven’t seen him in years.

nash brings you inside the cabin to show that he didn’t mess with anything during your absence nor has the cat destroyed the interior like you would expected, the small feline is still asleep in the same place you saw before going to the town. showing that he did succeed with his goals, nash helped you organize the things you’ve brought around the house.

it’s always a nice view seeing him becoming taller than you to organize the higher shelves of the kitchen and the storage room. thanks to him, you don’t need to bring the ladder from the basement. and with his assistance, the two of you arranged the foods rapidly and efficiently, leaving time to the two of you relax for the rest of the day.

@moonit3 writings

#yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere writing #yandere male #yandere x gender neutral reader #yandere x gn reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x gender neutral y/n #x gender neutral reader #gender neutral insert #gender neutral y/n #gender neutral reader #my oc nash #➥·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ moon writings

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soft-mafia · 6 months

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Buggy Headcanons (NSFW + SFW)

warnings: mentions of female reader, the NSFW isn’t separated from the SFW it’s kind of mixed in

a/n: I wanted to do some more Buggy headcanons to get my creative juices flowing loool

• The man stress eats(and drinks), when he’s frustrated over another encounter with straw hat, or a failed treasure hunt, he’ll sit on his throne or in his quarters and shovel food into his mouth. Whenever you’re sitting on his lap he can accidentally get a whole lot of crumbs on you.

• He’ll have days when all he wants to do is fuck. He’ll have sex with you for hours, until the room smelled like sweat and raw sex. His hairy torso pressed up against your back while he’s holding you down, grunting like a bull as he cums in you for what feels like the millionth time. Of course he takes breaks after every round, giving himself a breather while he either holds you close to him, or plays with your sopping pussy.

• The most annoying thing about sleeping with him at night is when he’s spooning you, he sometimes snores right into your ear. And it’s loud, especially when he gets choked on his own mucus and goes into a loud coughing fit.

• As soon as he gets into his quarters after a long day of pillaging and pirating— his clothes as off. As soon as that door closes he’s already in his underwear flopped onto the bed.

• He always makes sure that you’re eating. Even when you’re full or not hungry he’ll shove some food into your mouth or hand feed you a fruit or something. And he’d always do it at the worst times too, whenever you’re talking to one of his pirates about something, or if you’re talking to him, he’ll his hold a piece of food up to your mouth like you’re an animal(or his floating hand will just show up beside you) and he’ll expect you to take it, and if you don’t he’ll just shove it into your face again.

• Buggy loves grabbing your ass, especially when you least expect it, he’ll pull you into a firm embrace, and when you think he’s just being all lovey dovey— your eyes go wide when you feel his strong hands gripping your ass, your face going red as you feel his deep laughter rumble in his chest.

• He goes crazy over chin scratches, will literally go loopy when you scritch him.

• It’s hard getting all of his thick cock to properly fit into your mouth in one go, so he takes his time easing your lips around him. His muscled thighs twitching in his pants, grunts escaping him as he guides you through it. “Yeah.. that’s it, all the way down that pretty throat.” He chuckles gravely behind grit teeth, “You’d think you’d get used to it by now!” He laughs. Gently holding your head while watching your cheeks puff out with his cock is one of his favorite things about blowjobs.

• Gets jealous and protective whenever he’s around someone he sees as a threat to your relationship. It’s kind of a similar situation to his nose, where he’s so insecure he thinks everybody is out to steal you from him. You’re with him while he’s talking to somebody he sees as stronger and more attractive than he is(impossible), they’re speaking to him about something but he’s not listening to because he’s thinking about them stealing you and you running off with them. Buggy growls and randomly blurts out, “HANDS OFF MY GIRL, SHE’S MINE!” Which leads you, and the person in question confused.

• There was an incident where Mr. 3 sarcastically asked Buggy if he had to choose between Y/n and the one piece, Buggy just stood there with his mouth open, looking between you and 3, genuinely torn between the two options. You were rightfully pissed and didn’t speak to him for the rest of the day. While you were giving him the silent treatment, he was an emotional rollercoaster, going from whining, to straight up shouting at you. “Come on baby it was hypotheticalllll!!” “STOP BEING DRAMATIC!!” “At least look at me when I’m talking to you!!!” “LOOK AT ME Y/N!!!”

• Sometimes he does things to try and get you to laugh, and every time he does something that unintentionally makes a fool out of himself, and usually it always gets you to break and burst out into laughter.

• Buggy is by no means a 5 star chef but one time he tried to do something nice and surprise you with breakfast in bed. The typical bacon and egg smiley face breakfast. It was so adorable that you didn’t even complain about the burnt to a crisp, tasteless bacon.

• He lets you deal with his hair because it’s too much of a hassle for him, you have the honor of washing it, deep conditioning it, brushing all of the knots out of his hair(with the plus of him shouting and complaining at you during the entire process), and styling it into his hat.

• Buggy loves neck kisses, as if his neck isn’t just begging to be kissed. He’s a sucker for when you hold his jaw and lean in, then gently brush your lips over his thick, muscled neck before pressing a soft kiss to it, it makes him shiver and blush every time.

• You’re the only one who he has ever let touch his nose It’s a privilege you get from being his. He obviously doesn’t like it, and he never lets it go as far as a typical kiss or nose boop, he’ll turn away to grumble and frown about it, but it always leaves him flustered every time. It gets him to shut up as well, it’s like an off button, if you’re having a heated discussion with him and you know you’re right— just boop the snoot and he backs down.

#one piece #one piece buggy #buggy one piece #buggy the clown #buggy x reader #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x y/n #buggy x you #buggy headcanons #buggy imagines #one piece headcanons #one piece imagines #opla #one piece live action #one piece smut

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amerricanartwork · 24 days

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RW Headcanon: Know the Difference! | An Overview of Quetzalli's Slugcats

Here’s a headcanon I’ve wanted to elaborate on for a while, and today I finally felt compelled to make it real! Also, just a disclaimer I am not a huge biology nerd nor have I studied it that heavily, so I apologize if something here doesn’t make sense or if I get something wrong. I just like fantasy worldbuilding from time to time, and I always like trying to make sense of things I’m interested in!

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Basically, I’m in the crowd that interprets slugcats as mustelids rather than literal slugs. When I say this, however I don’t mean that slugcats would necessarily be classified in the actual mustelidae family, seeing as Rain World’s world is most-likely not Earth and therefore our taxonomic classifications and phylogenetic relations can’t necessarily apply. Thus, when I call them “mustelids”, I really just mean that I imagine them as some kind of weasel with all the necessary physical traits to earn that general label.

The first half of the name “slugcat”, in my headcanon, is thus not referring to any literal connection to slugs or other mollusks, but is instead derived simply from their appearance. Due to their long ears and thick tail, and because their fur and fat often squishes together in such a way that it makes their features blend together and their bodies appear more smooth (it’s the same physics as that whole “cats are liquid” idea), the general silhouette of a slugcat can easily be likened to that of a literal slug. The second half of their name is also not literal, and instead refers to their jumping and acrobatic abilities and their skill in hunting and pouncing on small prey, which is very similar to that of small cats.

Species Overview

Now to give a little more detail on slugcats themselves as a species! I headcanon them as small to medium-sized mammals most similar to Earth weasels in both their biology and their ecological niche, who originally served as cute low-maintenance pets for the Ancients and as hunters of small pests in facilities on the ground. They’re clever by nature and good at fitting through tight spaces, and later on they evolved greater jumping abilities to pounce on prey. They’re also very social creatures, who’ve taken to forming medium to large colonies primarily in and around the massive trees that thrive between the cracks in iterators’ rainstorm areas (like the one Gourmand, Survivor, and Monk’s colony lives in). Due to this social nature they also generally travel in groups of at least two, both for company and protection against tougher animals. Travel partners are usually siblings or good friends, and sometimes even whole families will journey out together to find food and other resources for the rest of the colony.

Despite being a small prey animal, slugcats have managed to get by not only due to their intelligence — the evolution of which would be seen as a rather unexpected twist of events if you asked their creators, for the Ancients found them cute but rather simple — but because of their impressive adaptability. It’s similar to that of real life red foxes and pigeons, and it allows them to survive decently well even in less ideal environments; a trait especially necessary for a world as industrialized as this one, even if its people are gone and most of the machinery is inactive. As such not all colonies live in trees; some find homes in the abandoned facilities, large underground hollows, and a few bold colonies have even claimed territories high up in iterator cities alongside scavengers. Slugcats are opportunists and masters at making the best of their surroundings, yet even beyond that they carry a certain other, “special” ability of their own that makes them as diverse as they are clever. But that’s a headcanon for another day…

Reasoning

Now for some out-of-universe explanation for this classification choice. I’ve always seen slugcats as some kind of small scurrying mammal (kind of a bias on my part, I just like mammals honestly, and they’re most familiar to me), mainly due to the way they look and move when on all fours, and their place in the game’s food chain. Originally though I saw them as rodents and compared them to mice and rats, which I still sometimes use for anatomy reference for these creatures. But one day a friend of mine saw me drawing slugcats and thought they were weird ferrets, and the more I thought about it and the more I developed personal speculative biology headcanons for slugcats, the more that label seemed the most fitting for them. It was also solidified when I did a bit more research and realized the main characteristic of rodents is their buck teeth, which just didn’t seem to fit with how I perceived slugcats. Not to mention rodents aren’t really predator animals, and slugcats’ implied natural diet and the gameplay itself does strongly imply if not confirm they have some instinctive hunting ability.

Thus, it seemed “weasel” was the best classification for these creatures, and I quite like it so far! Once again it satisfies my mammal preference, but I also just think it’s a fun idea that neither part of the “slugcat” name is literal, similar to a lot of real-life creatures named after completely different animals, including fellow weasel, the polecat. Plus, I realized recently it’s kind of ironic with how I perceive the messenger slugcats, Hunter and Spearmaster, as being like hunting or guard dogs for their creators, when weasels are exactly the kind of animal humans with their dogs would normally hunt for! It’s cute, it’s familiar, it’s fun, yet I think it still has just as much potential for some interesting speculative biology ideas as the literal slug slugcat interpretations!

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

I'm so glad to finally get this out! I like seeing specbio slugcat headcanons in the RW fandom, yet I haven't seen many more in-depth takes from artists who don't take the "slugcats are literal slugs/mollusks/primarily mollusk-based" angle. Not that that's a bad headcanon of course; do what you think feels right! But once again I personally prefer slugcats being mammals, and I always look for fan-content that's as close to my personal preferences as possible. And when I can't find enough of it, I make it myself!

So hopefully this serves as a bit more of that kind of representation for the mustelid slugcat interpretation. It at least helped me develop my own idea of the species a bit more; much of that stuff in the overview part was ideas I came up with while typing this whole headcanon out!

As always, I hope you enjoy this headcanon of mine! I've still got so many ideas to develop and share, and even more coming as I continue to ponder these characters and their stories, so as long as you guys still like these Rain World headcanons of mine, they'll keep coming!

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tinycozycomfort · 7 months

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moon, a hole of light

pairing: qz!joel miller x f!reader

day one of @pascalisbaby and i's joeltober: dacryphilia -> read her day one here

summary: It makes you feel like a toy, like some misused stuffed animal with loose seams and fur that’s been rubbed to the weft. Your use brings him comfort, his comfort brings you hurt.

warnings/tags: dacryphilia, unprotected piv, substance abuse (joel), age gap (joel is 46 [~10 yrs post outbreak]), reader is not), yearning, dom/sub dynamics, smidge of underwear play, pet names (honey, sweetheart, etc), joel is mean

word count: 2.4k

rating: explicit! 18+ only, mdni

a/n: i'm trying so hard to shorten things so forgive me as i navigate this learning curve.

main masterlist

A lot of life is weeping.

In joy. In sorrow. In fury so poignant it makes you wilt. Your body furls in the collapse—u-shaped shoulders that guard your insides, the lock of hard elbows into thigh.

It stings to feel so little, so vulnerable—to let anyone see how ugly emotion’s face can be—yet you let it happen, knowing that this is the only thing that separates you from the rest of them; they’ve spilled out all they had, hollow in the center after nearly a decade of ‘justified action’.

So you cry, and you sob, and you don’t care for their uncomfortable shifting and curled lips. Tess gives her best in the way of comfort, not letting a scoff slip as much when she can help it. Tommy will at least leave the room.

But Joel—Joel will watch. Joel will encourage.

He’s taken the liberty of cycling himself through every shape your hurt takes, the tears pouring over for all of his near-misses and his inability to care for you how he’s meant to. You see the way he grins to find that you cry when you’re happy to see him the same way you do when he insists he should leave.

Part of you thinks he likes it—pushing you to react and then having something to show for it. You think he especially likes when it causes you pain. You cry longer in those moments, working though fits of frustration while he kneels at your feet and watches your face sprout tears like light rain.

He pets you through it—even when he’d been the one to kick you down in the first place—to tell you you were good for sticking around, for being brave enough to have faith in him.

He enjoys having something to come back to, and wounding you is no obstacle in the pursuit of feeling needed.

It makes you feel like a toy, like some mis-used stuffed animal with loose seams and fur that’s been rubbed to the weft. Your use brings him comfort, his comfort brings you hurt.

You know he’s gearing up for another slip-away with the swift shift to kindness; Friday night he caresses you, soothes the ache of something not yet felt, to ease his exit. All pretty words and the affection he so desperately wants to hide, whispered promises of how much better he can be, how he can give you everything you deserve.

Come Saturday morning, you’re discarded.

He’s gone again on another outing, one he persuaded Tommy into joining—if the silence is any indication—even though he needs nothing; that in itself makes you even more sure it has everything to do with wanting. The burn, the desire, is something you see so clearly in the glaze he gets on later nights, the crinkle of soft plastic that trickles out through the open bathroom door. He swears it’s nothing—even to Tess, when she’s around—that he’s not on anything. He throws any excuse he can muster; it’s the wounds and the healing and the aging that make him stumble even in the lit apartment.

Everyone knows what’s actually going on, why the trips outside the QZ are becoming more frequent. It doesn’t get lost on you all the times Tommy complains of Joel disappearing to meet more than one mysterious, unarranged contact who asked for privacy—who wanted Joel alone.

Whatever it is he’s buying keeps him numb, so Tommy lets it slide, and Tess is apathetic towards Joel for reasons you aren’t too willing to know about. You’ve only tagged along so recently, so maybe they pity you, or they feel better about throwing Joel onto someone else—to ruin another thing if only to feel better about having been ruined.

You cry through the weekend in long streams, worried for him, until the hot tears pool and curl the cotton of your t-shirt—forever wet. You stay laid out on the bumpy sofa cushions for hours before your back feels just as knotted and you have to relocate to the bed, only rising again to shower and half-eat and sulk, until you’re too weak to keep track of the seconds.

When he swings in on Monday night, boots knocking as he raises them up on the rack by the door, you’re at the tail-end of another bout, cheeks damp and chest catching where it’s pinned by your shirt against the bed.

Joel walks into the room like he’s done nothing wrong. He walks in alone.

“Where’s Tommy?” you ask, but he ignores you.

Instead, he comes to you with tattered hands, fresh bruises and torn skin, and tugs you up by the creases under your shoulders so you’re seated, kneeling by the bed to level himself with the picture he’s come to love.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he coos, words slow, “What are all those tears for? Me?”

You huff out a few shaky breaths to steady yourself, “Where’s Tommy?”

He sighs, long and hard and uneven, “He left. Why the fuck does it matter?”

He peers up so you’re forced to face him and you can see it now, the film of wet that clouds his eyes, sticky lashes and deep creases of exhaustion purpling the skin where they brush.

“Why did he leave? Because you’re high? It’s too late for him to be out there.”

You already know he didn’t hear anything past the accusation, brought to a boil at the mention of another one of his failures. He gathers up the soft flesh of your cheek in his hand, the blunt curve of his nails digging in to find teeth through the skin. He grips tight to let you know of his anger—that he could easily wring the life out of you like water.

“You’re getting real brave for someone who sits and waits for me like a dog.”

Fire prickles in the tips of your fingers, stretches across the top of your chest in humiliation. You can hear the weight of his words even through his gentle slur, like he means it, twisting away as best you can to speak, “Is that really what you think this is?”

He’s laughing before you even get it all out, the corner of his lips perked up on one side, “No one forced you to, and I certainly don’t remember asking.”

You shove at him then, with force, your hands bending back enough to pinch when he doesn’t budge. He leans into you instead, a challenge.

There’s barely time to choose before he does for you, gathering up your wrists in one hand, the one around your jaw tightening.

So close now, you get a better look at him—his hair stuck to his forehead, cheeks flushed red but with paler lips. His eyes are round, pupils cartoonish and wide. He’s still so pretty, even when dulled by the sheen of his high.

He heaves onto you, shy of livid, and you start to feel like you’re suffocating under his stifling heat, billowing out from where he’s damp with sweat under his denim shirt. The pills work fast, and for longer than they should, so you can tell he’d spent the peak of his high elsewhere, but he’s on a jagged edge of almost coherent.

You slide your thighs together at the whole of him, so strong and honest and invested in you—negative or not—something you usually find him being incapable of. He sees it.

“Oh, but you do it because you like it, don’t you? Couldn’t wait ‘til I came back. Little thing just needs some attention, hm?”

“Joel, I’m serious. Are you high right now? Where’s your brother?”

Joel wedges a thigh up under the crease of your knee, uses the grip he has on your body as leverage to move you further up the bed, climbing up with you pushing himself into the cradle of your body on the way.

“Please. You don’t give a fuck about Tommy,” he snaps, releasing and depositing you so he can make work of your shorts and the buckle holding himself back, “He’s not going to bother us, if that’s what you’re asking.”

You whine as he releases himself, can’t help how you grow wet between your legs, heart throbbing in your throat. He’s not wrong, as mean as he is how he puts it—-you’d die for him if it meant he’d look at you. If you could have him to yourself.

His cock swings free as he shoves his jeans down only enough to be out of the way, not bothering to remove your thin strip of underwear once your bottoms are tugged off. He’s hard for you, another flattery that sends shivers down your spine, the feeling of arousal flashing along your whole body—fingers folding and ankle rolling. You’re excited for him, and this display of joy doesn’t please him as much.

“I didn’t say it was a good thing. You’re pathetic,” he sucks his teeth, hooking a finger in the cotton across your seam, peeling it away from where it's slicked down, knuckle dipping in the place you’re pooling, “But it’s cute. You’re still young enough to have hope.”

He strings the gusset up and away, presses his length against your cunt before replacing it, trapping himself.

“It’s okay that you love me, sweetheart. Don’t be embarrassed. Hang onto that. It might work out for you some day.”

“But not with you,” you whisper, half an offense and half an admission of awareness—he doesn’t love you, hasn’t and can’t and won’t, but you’re willing to take what you can get.

“Cry about it.”

Joel grinds his cock against the wet slip of your cunt in short, tight motions to better catch against you, soaking himself. He presses three fingers against the base of it like a vacuum, holding himself between the two of you, the scalloped edge of your underwear twisting when they roll over his skin. The hard of him on your clit makes you gasp, and his mouth hangs open in a soundless laugh.

And you are crying, sooner than you thought, barely registering it until you feel it falling into the cup of your collarbone, a steady stream that barely burns brighter than the flare in your core.

“You really should be more careful with that little heart of yours. Gonna hurt yourself.” He slides his hand further up his cock to the tip, releasing the pressure and guiding himself to your center. Joel slides himself in to the hilt, leaning down on one forearm to hold himself up.

With his unoccupied hand, he brushes the flesh of your cheek, following its path with kisses—the warning is a genuine one, followed by no punchline or remark, the first time tonight where he’s actually tried to resonate with the predicament he’s put you both in. Earnest.

The give and take of him, flowing freely between unrelenting harshness and the soft comfort of his reassurance should be nauseating, but it shines a beam of light behind your eyes when you close them, white-hot and blinding. You’re sobbing enough to wonder how you haven’t stopped; you can feel your own wetness when he rubs down your chest with his mouth, gathered up from his mapping of your face.

Joel’s knee digs into your side as he hikes you up on his hip, eliminating even the air between your bodies, sweat-soaked and glued together. He’s pushing himself into a place you’ve often found unconsidered, that spongy spot at the back that marks the beginning of your womb. The very center of you, he’s reached, and you start to move in an act of self-preservation, unsure whether you want him to continue forward or exit. You’re mumbling something about Joel, yes-too much-don’t stop-wait-please don’t stop and when he leans back he’s beaming at you, the point of his canines shining in the dim light of the room.

He looks dangerous, like the man you’ve seen hobbling and flighty and inebriated—only ever close to anger—was just the very surface. This is the man that hunted men—that sought conquest and destroyed lives. He’s done the same to you, you realize, and now your being is nestled within the palm of his hand, pliable and willing and fully at his disposal.

You keen for him, thin and high in the channel of your throat, and he pinches your face, sealing his mouth over yours to swallow it. He’s breathing hard into you, the movement of his hips growing shaky, rhythm breaking down a half-step so that you're just swaying against the bed under his weight in little jolts.

“Joel, please. I want to make you come.”

“Keep crying for me just like that and I will. Can you do that?”

You’re so close, the anticipation feeling like warm sand sliding under your fingertips. Joel wrestles a hand into the side of your hip where it’s tightly pressed to his, finding your clit with the pad of his thumb. Your babbling continues, Yes, I promise, I promise, and Joel nods, relenting.

He presses hard against the nub, and shoves himself in that much further, and you start to come undone beneath him, the waves of pleasure coursing through to the ends of your limbs.

He’s still moving above you, talking over you—good girl, good girl—removing his hand so as to not overstimulate you before bringing it up to brush his knuckles over the hinge of your jaw, so careful even as he hammers into you, “So sad, honey. Poor thing.”

You’re still caught up in your own rambling, but you tip your head yes and he picks up his pace again, chasing his own end, “Say it for me. Can’t do it unless you say.” His voice is a little warbled, and you can tell he’s crumbling.

“Please. Come inside me, Joel.”

Joel grunts, the noise catching in his mouth like a hiccup, overtaken with the pleasure of your permission. The heat of him spreading inside your body has your legs shaking and cunt pulsing in response.

You fight to catch your breath, running a hand over your face to snap back into focus.

He falls over to lay on his side, still connected to you, dragging you over with him. He hides his face in the fold of your neck, knocking his forehead into your throat.

“Really sweet of you to wait, honey,” he breathes, sliding out of you with a long drag, a thread of wet spooling out in his wake, “Now get the fuck out.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #pedro pascal characters #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #joel miller/reader #joel miller fic #kinktober 2023 #kinktober

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amoreva · 26 days

Note

Hii I’m so sorry if your request are closed, I didn’t see anything saying if they are or aren’t, but I was wondering if you could write Luke Castellan x Daughter of Aphrodite reader. I don’t really have a prompt in mind other than that. If you don’t want to write if or if your request are closed I totally understand and feel free to ignore this.

COLUMBA

—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of aphrodite!reader

summary: you were doomed from the start you were claimed as aphrodite’s daughter. you were doomed from the beginning you joined the hunters of artemis, you were doomed when you saw luke castellan

warnings: pre-tlt, angst, betrayal, alluding to kiss, main character death, spoilers to the last olympian, spoilers to the titan’s curse

a/n: ik this is not accurate to being a hunter of Artemis but i thought it was an interesting concept, so apologies and bare with me on this! also bare with me on columba being a constellation in pre-tlt. it’s all to fit the story and plot. idk if I liked this one as much. lmk if you guys do!

—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–

In every hero story, the protagonist had fatal flaws or in other words weaknesses. Superman had kryptonite. Green Lantern, the color yellow (in your opinion it was a stupid weakness). Annabeth has admitted numerous times her fatal flaw was hubris. Percy couldn’t tell, but his was his excessive loyalty.

And you?

Yours was love and love led to you easily trusting something which ultimately led you to your naivety.

So, you joined the Hunters of Artemis; trying to make the futile attempt to escape your flaw.

“I pledge myself to the Goddess Artemis. I turn my back on the company of men, accept eternal maidenhood, and join the Hunt.”

Your mother was not thrilled when one of her daughters swore off love and into maidenhood. Additionally, your charmspeak would not be proven useful as a Hunter.

One sacrifice for your life.

You thought it would be the perfect solution to escape your fatal flaw. Artemis required her hunters to reject all forms of romance. If you did happen to fall for a man, you would meet the same fate as Kallisto. If you fell for one of your fellow hunters, you could bargain.

It was perfect.

Until Mr. Greatest swordsman of his time weaseled his way to your heart (again.) The first time was when you arrived at Camp. It was your mother’s revenge: rekindling a past crush you got rid of ages ago.

Luke Castellan managed to flash you one charming smile when the Hunters of Artemis were resting at Camp Half-Blood (much to the displeasure of the hunters).

Your swore your heart beat at least twice as fast as usual when you saw him pass by and flash you a smile. He was as cute as you remembered yet mature and responsible. Quickly, you reminded yourself if you fell—Artemis would turn you into an animal.

“In and out, a week at least due to winter solstice.” That was what Artemis promised the hunters for their duration at Camp.

It only took you a week to fall in love all over again.

After another easy win of Capture the Flag for the Hunters of Artemis, you found yourself in the vicinity of Luke everywhere. He seemed curious. The girl he knew two years ago as the daughter of Aphrodite was now a Hunter of Artemis.

He thought you died due to monsters or refused to come back to camp. Look at you now, a beautiful silver glow and circlet complimenting the beauty you had. Your personality still the same. Aphrodite made his heart beat a little fast when he saw you again.

It was bad. It was really bad.

Guilt twisted in your stomach at the thought of breaking Artemis’ oath. You were not as distrusting and peeved at the thought of men like some of the other Hunters were. You were still relatively new to being a hunter, about a year or so.

You even began to talk to Luke in secrecy, so your fellow Hunters would not pull you away. You knew you fallen for the boy hard when he did some kind gesture. You were still a girl after all.

You should’ve stayed Aphrodite’s daughter. You shouldn’t have ran away from your weakness.

Artemis was supposed to come back the last day the Hunters were staying at Camp. Many girls, like Zoë, were glad to get out of Camp, out into the wild. You…not so much, but it would do you good. Yet, your mother’s plan for revenge was complete.

“Would you still love me if I was a worm?” You asked the night before Artemis came back to camp. Hands twisting in one another as you stared at the moon.

Luke chuckled. The more he talked to you the more he loves your way of talking. He’s heard this question before as a joke from Chris, but the serious look on your face dispels the humor.

“Yes, of course. I’d buy the best damn place for a worm and take care of you still.” Luke reassured and put a hand on yours. Your silver glow fading and fading as your heart beat for him.

“I’m serious.” You conveyed.

“I am too.”

“Luke…I—” You took a moment to compose yourself. “I don’t know what will happen when Lady Artemis comes back tomorrow. She’ll be hurt and disappointed I broke my oath and—and kept this from her. I’ll be turned into an animal when she sees me—she’ll know…”

Luke hears the guilt and panic in your voice. He sees it in your expression. “Hey…hey.” Luke soothed and shushed your worry. “You told me you could bargain if you fell in love with one of your hunters. Maybe…you can do it for this?”

“I can’t…” You denied and shook your head.

“You are the daughter of Aphrodite—surely Artemis will understand.” Luke reassured you and pulled you into a hug.

“I was the daughter of Aphrodite.” You spoke into his shoulder.

“Maybe your mom and Artemis are fighting about this right now?” Luke suggested to try and make you feel better, but he knows better than anyone that the gods and goddesses won’t fight for their kids.

You fell into silence. That silver glow that all Hunters had had completely faded. Your heart hurt with guilt and shame. “Listen.” Luke whispered soothingly into your ear. “Whatever animal you turn into, I will not love again. You will be my first and last love.”

“Luke…you can’t just swear off of love . It’s useless—” You protested. You failed and you doubt Luke would be able to do it.

“I swear on River Styx.” Luke said firmly. The crush that rekindled after so long felt like fire through his and your hearts.

Your first and last kiss was shared by Luke Castellan. It was bittersweet and everlasting.

You confessed to Artemis with downcast eyes the next day. You broke her oath and met the same fate as Kallisto. Aphrodite would be mad at the goddess, but that did nothing to stop her from turning you into an animal.

A dove.

An ironic thing to be turned into.

You were visited by Artemis once more after that crucial day. It was out of pity. The Goddess, herself, knew you would succumb to your emotions as the daughter of Aphrodite. She had warned you once and yet you insisted on joining the Hunt.

You did not deserve a place in the stars, not with your story.

And yet, Artemis pitied you. She forgave you. She ended your life as a dove and blessed you to live in the stars. Just like Kallisto and her son. And soon, just like Zoë Nightshade.

You wondered if Aphrodite wept for you when a new constellation was added to the night sky.

Columba. A faint constellation with the Latin name dove.

Luke stared at the faint constellation as he laid on the battlefield, having stabbed himself. He was to be judged in the Underworld and condemned for all the crimes he committed by being Kronos’ Lieutenant.

Columba was made up of a blue subgiant and a runaway star.

Your story was a reminder that no one should run away from their fatal flaw. That other half-blood should face their weakness head on.

Columba. Luke’s first and last love. The last thing he’ll see in his life.

—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan pjo #pjo series #luke castellan imagine #percy series

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bagopucks · 5 months

Text

N. Hischier - Wishing For Angels

✄————————————

Nico Hischier x Fem!reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Warning(s): little bit steamy, but also really not. Just pure fluff with Nico!

—————————————

“Hey Oatie.” I bent over to pet the orange and white long haired cat. My joints ached, and my body was tired, but at least I was home. I hated night shifts. Nothing was longer than an evening at work waiting for the hours to pass by so one could close and drive home. Praying that I won’t hit an animal. Or god forbid another car. It had been pouring outside, the thunder cracking in the sky above. The moisture was exactly what New Jersey needed, after collecting so much smoke from the wildfires up north.

My mind wandered to Nico. The cat came to see me. I had to assume my boyfriend was asleep. I felt Oatie weave between my legs, chuckling softly at his purring. The whole reason Nico wanted him was because he sounded like a tiny motorbike engine when he purred. So loud.

“Oats?” I jumped at the sound of my lover’s voice, looking up from the cat to spot Nico peeking through the kitchen doorway. He certainly looked like he’d been asleep.

“Evening.” I spoke just above a whisper. Nico flashed me a smile. We crossed the floor to see each other, arms sliding around one another’s bodies, lips colliding. Oatie followed, snaking between our legs and crying for attention.

“Get lost.” Nico mumbled between passionate kisses, stepping away from the cat. I laughed quietly when Nico pulled me with him, though my voice was silenced when he pressed me into the wall. It wasn’t rough or needy. It was passionate and gentle. Delicate in a way that only Nico could be.

“Poor Oatie.” I broke from the kiss as I spoke, watching Nico’s lips purse.

“He’s fine. We cuddled all night.”

“You boys are always jealous of each other.”

“And?”

“Maybe he wants some time with me.” I tried to slip past Nico ducking beneath his arm, but the moment I got around him, he spun around and wrapped his arms around my back.

“You’ve been gone all day.” His body fell back into the wall, tugging me along as I leaned into his chest.

“That’s what Oatie says too.” I reasoned playfully, earning an unamused squeeze from Nico.

“The cat is fine.” Nico argued, dipping his head into my neck to press a few quick kisses there. I leaned my head against his shoulder opposite of the one of my own his neck rested on.

“You may have a compelling argument, Hisch.”

“Finally.” Nico groaned, leaning forward and steadying my body. He reached for my hand and turned for the bedroom.

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna lock him out of the bedroom.” I moaned in agony for our poor cat. Nico looked back at me with wide eyes. He simply couldn’t win.

“Please.” He insisted, tugging me along, and I followed to spare his mind some ease.

Nico was known to be cuddly and needy when we had time alone. Part of that youngest child in him craved the attention and love. One would think he didn’t get enough of it in his youth, but stereotypes did not apply to the Hischier siblings. They had all been loved equally. Though Nico did like to tease the two others that he was the favorite. And if the saying, ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’ was true, then Nico being in America certainly made his mother the most joyous when he visited home.

I was led into the darkness of our bedroom, lit by a tall lamp in the corner. Nico had already laid out a pair of pajamas for me.

We had been known to sleep practically naked together. Something about the skin contact always felt most comfortable to us, but there were cold nights, like these, when we both wanted to hunker down in our matching plaid pants and cuddle up beneath a mountain of blankets.

And since we didn’t get many of these cold summer nights often, I knew Nico was itching for one. Judging both by the fact that he already had his set of matching pj’s on, and the fact that I could hear the familiar script to one of my favorite Christmas In July Hallmark movies playing on the tv.

Nico released my hand only to disappear from my side. I heard the door shut, and a very displeased meow from the outside of our room.

“Nico,” I scolded, beginning to turn to look at him, only to be stopped in my tracks by his swooping figure. He wrapped a red blanket around my shoulders, pulling me back into his body. My own ached for rest. I craved it even more so knowing that it would be coming soon, as opposed to the hours before when I had been at my desk, able to distract myself with work.

Oatie meowed once again.

“Nico, he’s gonna cry all night.” I opened my previously closed eyes, a sigh heaving from my chest. Nico did not release the grip he had on my hips.

“Just ignore him,” his smooth voice suggested in a pathetic but nonetheless sultry whine.

“How?” I closed my eyes again.

“We’ll just turn the movie up.” With that simple sentence, we went waddling across the floor. Myself too tired to leave his grasp, and himself too satisfied to release me. When we got to his nightstand, Nico unwrapped an arm from my waist to grab the tv remote, making quick work of increasing the volume. Not too disturbing, but loud enough to hopefully get the message across to our poor feline friend.

I hummed happily at the background soundtrack that played from the movie. I watched Nico’s dark eyes trail across my face before I closed my own once again.

“I don’t even know who you are.” The words fell in a whisper from my lips, the mediocre mid-Atlantic accent causing a smirk to form on my face.

“You prayed for an Angel.” Nico repeated the male love interest’s line’s far more perfectly than anybody ever could on the silver screen. He liked to complain about Hallmark movies, but I knew deep down he enjoyed them.

“An Angel?” I opened my eyes, wide smiles painting our faces in anticipation of the next line. “Why you’re short enough to be an elf. Are you sure you’re not an elf?” Soft giggles soon followed. Nico wrapped his arms around my shoulders, still behind me, slowly turning so his back faced the bed.

“I am not.” He feigned the offense of the actor as he sat down, and I rested in his lap.

“Are too..” I kissed his hands that rested just above my chest. Nico laid back, and I laid down on top of him, my head resting just on his collar. I tilted it upwards to get as good of a look at his face as I could, while he craned his neck downwards to look at me. “How did you hear my prayer anyway? I thought my balcony was to be private.”

“I patrol that street every night, ma’am.” Nico unwrapped an arm from me to play with my hair. “And every night I stop to listen to you, because you and I wish for the same things.”

“Angels?” I closed my eyes, overwhelmed with a feeling I didn’t know. We were merely reciting lines of a movie that held no meaning to us. About a soldier and a general’s daughter, falling madly in love. It had nothing to do with us, and yet it felt like maybe it did.

“To take us far away from here.” The actor -and Nico- finished the woman’s thought. “Let me be your Angel.”

“I couldn’t possibly.”

“We’ll go somewhere beautiful.” Nico whispered in my ear now.

“Not before Christmas. My family would be devastated.” The woman always listed her reasons as to why she couldn’t go. I always wished she would simply say yes from the get-go. Yet I loved to hear the man in the film list his ideas endlessly as if she didn’t continually refuse. Only now Nico went off script.

With beaches as far as the eye can see.

“With forests, and all the wild flowers you could pick.”

Where nobody knows our names.

“My mom misses us both.”

I’ll pick up a simple job.

“You deserve a vacation.”

We can be happy. Together.

“All I need is you.”

With you by my side.

“I want you to go with me.” I had closed my eyes again, wrapped in a warm blanket and in Nico’s embrace.

“To Switzerland?” I asked, yawning soon after.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

“I’ve never been more ready.”

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

#nhl imagine #nhl x reader #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier blurb #nico hischier imagines #ella’s inbox #ella’s updates #ella’s asks

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chroniclesofbts · 3 months

Text

Call Me Home Part 1

A lot of time skips to start off the story and give background about the reader.

Idol hybrid BTS x hybrid foreigner reader

Warnings: sedative use, relocation against the readers will, implied sexual themes

It was storming outside when the announcement was made, blaring over the emergency speakers.

“All hybrids are required to enter Hybrids Centers to become independent. All hybrids must adhere to the rules set up by the centers, or they risk becoming strays. It is now Illegal to own hybrids in any capacity. Hybrids found on the streets will still be picked up by Hybrid Control and taken in for assessment. Hybrids will receive funds by the state, jobs, and housing upon existing of the Hybrid Centers. This begins now”

All of the humans were staring at me, I had no owner and they knew that. I was abandoned last month by my previous owner for scratching a “client”. I had avoided being taken in, until now. I stare at the large van pulled off to the side of the road as Hybrid Control exists. I follow without a fight, fighting would ensure I was put down. As much as I want to have hope of becoming independent, there has to be a catch. Even Hybrid idols are owned by someone, typically the company chairs. We pulled up to an airport, the man in the front seat holding my file. A picture of me in human and animal form plastered on the front.

“We have arrived, let’s get this over with. I don’t know why our strays get the chance to be independent” he sneers, “at least they aren’t staying in our country”

I’m flying to another country? I begin to panic, looking for a way out of the situation. Suddenly, I feel a prick to my neck, turn to see a long pole holding a syringe empty now of sedatives. My eyes start to feel heavy, the sedative taking full effect.

“Good luck, kid. You’ll need it where you’re going, they have way more rules.” A woman said, tying my hands together. The last thing I see is a cage being unloaded from the plane.

*Time skip*

When I wake I’m in a white room, with a small bed and bathroom. I’m in a my animal form, the sedative must have forced my shift. They also must have bathed me while I was unconscious, my fur is now soft and smells like soap. I curl further into myself, hearing footsteps outside. There’s a knock on the door, and a tall man enters.

“Hello, my name is Choi, welcome to South Korea” he speaks in English, “you will begin classes on language and culture tomorrow, take the rest of the day to settle. Once you pass your classes, you can move on to the next facility where you will be joined by our countries hybrids. America started their adjustments first, we have ours scheduled for the end of the year. This will give you plenty of time to learn the language and why you are here.” He bowed, then left, shutting the door softly.

I think back on how hard it was to adjust to a new culture, learn a new language, and train on how to be a part of a pack. In South Korea, the way to earn independence is through a pack. They taught the foreigners all of the steps for becoming a pack, as a way to prove we are a bonded pack before they release us. We will be brought to the new facility where their hybrid packs are, the ones that are under 8 hybrids. That��s another catch, packs have to be 8-10 people. Rumor has it that packs satisfying the 8-10 can still participate by choice to expand their packs, and those over 10 have to be separated.

I’m pulled from my thoughts as the vehicle comes to a stop. Each hybrid given a pill to increase our chances to find our pack. It brings our animals to be more in control, allowing for our mates to identify us by smell, touch, or eye contact. I am lead to a room with tables and chairs, I walk to the back of the room and take a seat.

"Good morning, my name is San and I am going to explain a few things before we let the packs begin their search. First rule, you do not get up or call out to any pack members that enter. Second, you do not get to choose your pack, the first 2 weeks are for them to choose you. If you are chosen, you must stay with that pack. You are the outcasts of your countries, don't become the outcasts of ours. We won't keep you. Finally, if you are chosen by a pack, they are responsible for you in all aspects. You mess up, you are punished as your pack sees fit. You only become independent through your packs, foreigners do not have the same rights in South Korea." He finishes, headed towards the door and opening it.

I drop my eyes to the table and lean back into the chair. As time passes, I think I am in the clear, until someone pulls the chair our in front of me and sits down. I swallow, and take a deep breath, waiting for them to speak.

"Won't you look at me, little doe" The voice asked, I look up in shock, wondering how he knew. Looking up was a mistake, as soon as my eyes locked on his, they changed to gold. He was my mate, and by the marks on his neck, he had others. He smiled and stood, holding his hand out to me, raising his eyebrow daring me to reject it. I stood up, looking around and seeing that I am the first one to leave the room.

"We got your profiles 3 weeks ago, that's how I knew you were a doe. A Melantistic Deer, quite rare" He said, grabbing my hand creating sparks to travel up my arm. I take a good look at him while he leads me down hallway after hallway. His ears sticking off of his head and tail coloring tell me he is a predator, a rare one. We arrive in front of a guarded door, the guards bow and let us pass.

"She can come and go as she pleases, no one else" he addresses the guards. They nod and give him a final bow before closing us in what appears to be a living room. As soon as the door clicked shut, footsteps came running our way.

"You found her!" A man with orange ears exclaimed, "My name is Jungkook, this is Taehyung" he says pointing to a man with ears similar to Jimin's, "I am a Red Panda, Taehyung is a Racing Stripped Cheetah, and Jimin is an Ocelot"

"I'm Seokjin but I go by Jin, a Dhole and this is Namjoon, a Golden Tiger" Jin said, Namjoon giving me a small smile and a wave.

"I'm Yoongi, a Melantistic Fox" He said, "I will say, I didn't expect to see another Melantistic Hybrid, especially one who was a stray."

"Well, you clearly don't know who we are, so before someone else tells you..."

"Hello, we are BTS" They chant together. You furrow your eyebrows before remembering that there was a chance of encountering idols in the facility.

"Oh" You start, "idols?"

"Is that a problem?" Yoongi questions

"I don't know much about Korean Idols, so if you're expecting me to freak out, you're going to be disappointed." I confess

"We prefer it this way, lets us get to know each other at the same time" Jimin said.

"However, we are expected to be independent by the end of the week" Namjoon say with a grimace.

"So, we have to be fully bonded?" I ask, narrowing my eyes.

"Yes, but only to two members, the rest can be finished by the end of the month. Our company believes it's best to slowly introduce you to our fans." Namjoon confirm.

"But for today, we are going to just get to know you, no pressure to bond. Take it slow." Jin says

"Unfortunately, I give it 24 hours before the pill they made us take wears off and I am thrown into heat." I share, remembering what the guards were discussing when I entered. "They were talking about it in English when we walked in, how if no one finds a pack the first day that the scent of a heat will force people to choose." As soon as I finish speaking, Jimin leans in, pressing his nose to the column of my throat. Looking up at the rest in worry, confirming what I said.

"Which means we will go into our ruts..." Jungkook trails off.

"Which means we need to prepare" Jin says, beginning to panic.

#bts ot7 #jeon jungkook #jung hoseok #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #kim taehyung #min yoongi #park jimin #bts #hybrid #foreign reader #bts x reader

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mellowsadistic · 1 month

Text

The Magician's Game - Chapter 13

Becky’s New Life

Becky awoke from her midafternoon nap, and was immediately assaulted by the strong smell of baby powder, pee, and something yuckier. Every time she woke up, she prayed that everything she’d gone through with the Magician had all been some terrible dream, but when she opened her eyes, it was to see the white bars of her crib in front of her face, and the daycare’s naptime room beyond. It was a sight she’d become very familiar with over the last few months.

She got to her hands and knees, her bare breasts dangling beneath her, and felt her diaper droop heavily between her legs, almost brushing the plastic mattress cover of her cot. She screwed up her face in disgust and shame. She felt as though she was trapped in a nightmare. This was who she was now; an overgrown baby who filled her nappies in her sleep like a one-year-old. It wasn’t the first time it had happened. In fact, some of her former colleagues at the daycare had even made sure to capture it on video, so they could force her to watch her sleeping self lift her bottom into the air and start packing her oversized Pampers while they tittered. None of them liked her – they remembered how dismissive she’d been of their careers, the ones for whom it was more than just a Summer job, and how haughty and harsh she’d been with the children. In their minds, she was getting exactly what she deserved.

Becky got awkwardly to her feet, seething with anger. She hated all of them! How dare those stupid bitches treat her like this just because she hadn’t wanted to spend the rest of her life wiping poopy bottoms! Tears welled up in her eyes. At least it would’ve been better than spending her days getting her own poopy bottom wiped by somebody else… Even after months in diapers, she still hadn’t got used to them. She was starting to think she never would.

One of the daycare staff came over once they saw her standing up in her crib. Erica. Becky felt her spirits sink even lower. They were around the same age, and they’d hated each other when they’d been colleagues. Erica was nothing short of delighted at Becky’s fate. “Finally up from your nap, hmm?” she smirked. “We thought you might stay asleep all day, Beckers! It’s one of your favourite things to do now, isn’t it? Napping? Right up there with going to the toilet in your pants.”

Becky clenched her fists in fury, but did her best to keep her expression blank. She was desperate to get out of her messy nappy, and Erica wouldn’t change her if she was rude. “Please…” she began, but then she saw Erica’s raised eyebrows and realised her mistake. “I mean, pwease Miss Ewica! Baby Becky made a boom-boom! Can I have a clean nappy to poop in?”

Erica laughed nastily. “Oh no, Becky-poo, I don’t think so,” she cooed, her eyes glinting maliciously. “That was very cute, but you’ve only just made a stinky while you were napping! That diapee can hold an awful lot more. What was it you always said? What’s the point in changing the little brats when they’re just going to crap their pants again in a few minutes anyway?”

Becky whimpered.

“Come on, baby-butt,” Erica said, lifting her out of the crib with a grunt of effort and carrying her out of the naptime room and over to a corner where all the daycare’s other charges, her equals, were playing with blocks and dolls and toy cars and stuffed animals. “It’s playtime now,” said Erica. “You can have a nappy change later.” She plopped Becky down on her full diaper, making her groan in disgust.

Another daycare worker came over, a slightly older woman. Harriet was kinder than Erica, but she was no less pleased by where Becky had ended up. She looked down at the twenty-year-old woman on the floor with a patronising smile. “I see this little one’s done naptime potty-poos!” she chuckled. “You’re such a little stinker, aren’t you Becky?”

“Yes, Miss Hawwiet,” Becky lisped. She didn’t have much choice but to answer. Ignoring their questions was the fastest way to earn her a red bottom. The daycare didn’t normally allow corporal punishment, but they made a special exception for her, and most of the staff were constantly looking for any excuse to take her over their knees and spank her to tears. She didn’t know who was worse; Erica, who taunted her constantly about how far she’d fallen, or Harriet, who treated her like she really was just a silly little two-year-old.

Becky played with the stupid toys for what felt ages, closely supervised by Harriet, doing her best to keep her mind off the load in her pants. At last, lunchtime came around. The horrible baby food was nothing to look forward to, but at least it was a break from the monotony of playing with mind-numbing baby toys, and every second was a step closer to getting out of her messy nappy. Harriet led her over to a row of highchairs on one side of the room, where she was lifted up and crammed into the seat.

“Miss Hawwiet, pwease can I have-” she began, but Harriet interrupted her, anticipating her question.

“You can have a change after num-nums, Becky,” she said firmly.

Becky hung her head meekly and allowed herself to be fed spoonful after spoonful of mashed up peas and carrots.

“There’s a good girl!” Harriet cooed in a high-pitched, stomach-churning baby voice. “That’s a good baby! Little miss stinky-bum loves her nummy-nums, doesn’t she? Yes she does! Yes she does!”

Once she’d gone through several jars of baby food, the nipple of a large bottle was popped into her mouth, and Becky started guzzling down the milk within. Harriet held her bottle for her – she was considered far too immature to do it by herself. She hadn’t even held a knife and fork in months, not that they would have been much use to her when all her food went through a blender before it touched her lips.

Becky was halfway through her bottle when she started to wet herself. Instinctively she tried to clamp down on the flow, hoping that this time, somehow, her continence might have returned. But nothing happened. Warm pee soaked her already wet naptime diaper. Her oversized Pampers were now full of so much wee-wee that she could feel it pooling beneath her, unable to be absorbed by the thoroughly sodden padding. It felt almost as bad as the disgusting mess squishing against her bottom.

Finally, with her stomach full to burst with baby food and formula, Becky finished her lunch. Harriet lifted her out of her highchair and carried her over to one of the many changing tables that lined one wall of the room. “Erica!” she called, depositing Becky on the changing table. “Would you mind changing Becky’s nappy? I need to see to the other babies.”

“No problem!” Erica called back. She came over with a sneer on her face. “Hi, Becky-wecky,” she taunted, once Harriet had left. “Somebody definitely needs a diapee change,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “What a yucky little girl you are, Becky! Always pooping your pants. You used to hate changing messy nappies so much. How does it feel wearing them yourself, knowing that you’ll never use a toilet again?”

Becky couldn’t look her in the eyes. She could feel tears welling up inside them.

Erica pushed her onto her back and started undoing the tapes of her diaper. She gave the front a quick little rub as she did so. “Crinkle, crinkle!” she teased. “Do you remember what it was like to have a man touch you down here?” She laughed. “Do you even remember what it was like to wear panties? You are quite pretty – I bet you had no trouble getting guys. But those days are over now, aren’t they Becky? No more boyfriends for you. The best you can hope is for a handsome daycare worker to change you!”

Becky started to cry.

“Awww,” cooed Erica, her tone mockingly sweet. “Poor wittle thing. Does baby Becky-wecky miss being a gwown-up? Does she miss wearing big girl clothes and eating adult food and having people talk to her like she’d not two years old? Does she wish she could use the potty again instead of doing all her pee-pees and poo-poos in her pants?”

Becky cried even harder, until Erica took a large pink dummy out of her apron pocket and shoved it into her mouth.

“There we go!” she said happily. “That will shut the baby up.” Then she pulled down the front of Becky’s nappy and lifted her legs into the air by her ankles. “This is where you belong, Becky,” she said, wiping at the woman’s messy bottom with one wet wipe after another. “On your back, legs up, getting your dirty diaper changed. I can’t think of a more perfect way for you to spend your life!”

Becky wailed like an infant as Erica finished wiping, powdering, and changing her bottom into a clean, dry nappy. Once the final tape was in place, Erica picked her up once again and carried her back through to the naptime room to deposit her in her crib, this time for her afternoon nap.

“Night-night, Becky-poo!” Erica said, patting her firmly on her padded bottom before she left. “See you when you wake up!”

Still sniffling, Becky buried her face in her pillow and quickly felt herself drifting off. She’d taken so many naps now that her body was used to it. Her eyes fluttered shut, and just as she drifted off to sleep, her bowels lurched into life once more, so that she could go through it all again. And again and again and again, until her adult mind finally broke forever, and she was left as a drooling, pants-filling baby for the rest of her days.

#mellowsadistic

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kiapet2 · 11 months

Text

I’ve been thinking about the significance of names in GotG 3, and how it plays into the movie’s themes of intelligence and a being’s intrinsic worth.

Each of the test subjects’ names shows a different level of abstract thought:

Floor, seemingly capable of only very basic associations, named herself based on where she was while picking the name

Teefs named himself after a distinctive personal feature, and didn’t quite get the grammar right

Lylla picked a “real” name that she decided fit for her

And Rocket named himself aspirationally, using his name as a metaphor for the kind of person he wants to be

And the great thing is that all of these names were enthusiastically accepted by the group of friends, regardless of the complexity of thought that went into them. Because unlike the High Evolutionary, who places all living things on a spectrum from least to most evolved with only the most developed and “pure” being judged worthy of life, Rocket and his friends loved and valued each other for the beings they were.

This theme is then carried over to another naming scene at the movie’s climax: when Rocket declares himself to the High Evolutionary as “Rocket Raccoon”.

Throughout the series Rocket has taken offense to being referred to as a racoon, not wanting to be seen as “just an animal”. But in the climax he looks at a cage of baby raccoons and sees himself, not as the intelligent creation of the High Evolutionary but as the baby animal he once was, who never deserved what was done to him. And he looks at the other animals (the camera lingers in particular on a rabbit) and sees his friends, who were never as intelligent or “developed” as him but were no less valuable and important in his eyes.

And so he accepts the moniker of “Raccoon” alongside his personal name of “Rocket”, and insists that every creature on the ship be saved, not just the “higher lifeforms” as the other Guardians said. Because the truth he comes to realize is that there is no such thing as a “higher life form”: every living being has value, regardless of how intelligent, “developed”, or “evolved” they are.

While we don’t have sentient raccoons in our world, this is still a message that is so important, and so relevant to issues we face. It has takeaways for environmental stewardship and animal welfare (not as much separates us from the rest of the animal kingdom as we like to think, and it’s important to treat all living things with respect and care), as well as for issues of fascism, eugenics and disability rights (there are no types of people who are inherently superior to others; a person’s intelligence and/or level of functioning has no bearing on their status as a human being deserving of dignity, respect and self-determination).

It’s a lesson I hope we all can learn someday. Bless Guardians of the Galaxy 3 for portraying it in such a clear and meaningful way.

#Guardians of the Galaxy #gotg #gotg3 #gotg3 spoilers #guardians of the galaxy 3 #rocket raccoon #meta #my meta #there's other expressions of this theme as well #like how the guardians are completely committed to saving rocket #despite gamora's incredulity at them doing this for a 'badger'#or them giving Adam a second chance #which saves Peter's life #or even Drax being an important part of the team despite being considered 'stupid'#but this essay was long enough already #gotg3 good is what I'm saying

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owmyeyeballs · 5 months

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Batstarion Fic

I had to. Batstarion is too adorable for words. He's still a spawn in this fic, because I say so. Tav is Silence, my tiefling monk, and she's so done with her adorable weird vampire

It’s probably nothing. Of course it’s nothing. He’ll show up any minute. He’s fine, everything will be fine… Silence had been pacing so long, she wondered she hadn’t worn out the Elfsong’s shiny floorboards. Astarion was missing. Astarion had been missing for hours. Usually at this time of day he would be lounging at her side, reading a book and cradling a glass of wine. Ordinarily Silence wouldn’t have worried quite so much, but since the death of Cazador, Astarion had been a mess. Joyous one minute, on the verge of weeping the next, and through it all, extremely reluctant to leave Silence’s side.

He probably just needed some space. He’s probably just gone to track down some prey. He’s probably totally fine, and hasn’t fallen victim to a vengeful spawn, or a Bhaal-crazed murderer, or…

The door opened, and Silence turned in worried expectation, only to find Wyll regarding her sympathetically.

“Still no sign of our favourite bloodsucker, I take it?”

“Nothing. I should be out looking for him.”

Wyll came to stand by her, and rested a hand on her shoulder.

“You should be with the rest of us at the bar, relaxing. Astarion’s a grown man. There’s no sense worrying until we know for sure we have cause.”

“He’s barely been out of my sight since Cazador, and this city is dangerous, and…”

“And Astarion has two hundred years of experience navigating those dangers. I tell you what, if he’s still gone in another hour, I’ll join you, and we’ll go looking for him together. But until then, try to relax. I know Astarion’s been a little out of sorts since taking down Cazador. But so have you.”

Silence opened her mouth to argue, then closed it again. In truth, Wyll was right. After coming so very close to losing her lover, she had barely relaxed once.

“… You may have a point.”

Wyll smiled warmly, and gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

“Try to relax. If you won’t join us downstairs, at least sit down for a while up here. Even with your light feet, we can hear you pacing your way through the floorboards!”

As he left her to rejoin the others, Silence took his advice, collapsing on her bed. The absence of Astarion laying beside her, holding her close, did little to ease her worries. Without the vampire to hug, she clutched a pillow to her chest instead.

“Where are you, Stars…”

Her eyes drifting aimlessly across the elegantly furnished room, until they came to rest on her alchemy bag. A thought darted across her mind, and she leapt to her feet once more, taking the bag and rifling through the contents, until at last her hand closed on the bottle she wanted.

“I mightn’t be able to sniff you out, but I know who can!”

Scratch had settled quite happily into the Elfsong, and had already become a familiar presence at the bar, delighting in being petted and fed treats by patrons in various stages of inebriation. Seeing Silence, his tail began to wag, and he loped across the room to meet her. The taste of the animal speaking potion still lingering on her tongue, Silence knelt to scratch behind his ears.

“Hope you’re keeping well, Mistress! You haven’t joined us tonight! You’re missing out! There’s been singing!”

“I’m well enough, but worried,” Silence replied. “And I think you might be able to help me. Do you think you can track someone for me?”

Scratch tilted his head, the wagging of his tail slowing a little.

“I think so… But is it Astarion you want me to track? That… Might be a problem.”

Silence felt her heart begin to race in fear.

“Why? What’s happened? Do you know something?”

“He’s alright, Mistress. Well, I think he’ll be alright. But he made me promise not to tell!”

Silence frowned.

“Not to tell me what? Please, Scratch. I’ve been worried sick!”

Scratch let out a low whine, and tilted his head again.

“I don’t know… He said he’d bite me if I told! But… He likes you so much. I don’t think he’d like you to be worried… That makes telling you alright, doesn’t it?”

“I think so! And don’t worry, I won’t let him bite!”

Scratch let out a sigh, his tail wagging once more.

“If you go back to your room, Mistress, I’ll bring him to you there.”

Giving Scratch one last pat, Silence rose to her feet, halfway between relieved and worried.

What in nine Hells have you gotten up to, Stars?

Silence didn’t have long to wait before finding out. She had barely settled back onto her bed when she heard Scratch’s claws clicking merrily on the floorboards, and her lover’s voice raised in indignation.

“If you don’t drop me at once, you filthy hound, I’ll visit you tonight and drain every last drop of blood from you! Do you hear me? You miserable fleabag, I mean it!”

Scratch came bounding into the room, something white in his mouth. Something winged and flapping angrily, and yelling in Astarion’s voice as it was dropped at Silence’s feet. A bat. A white, fluffy, red-eyed bat.

“At last! Ugh, I’m covered in your slobber, you beast! I ought to…”

Red eyes looked up at Silence, and blinked.

“Ah. Darling. I… Suppose I ought to explain.”

Silence knelt, and scooped the bat – Astarion? – up off the floor. He flapped his wings clumsily, trying to get his balance, and clawed feet gripped at her hands. Torn between laughing and shouting in disbelief, she stroked her thumb over soft, fluffy white fur.

“You’re a bat.”

Astarion heaved a sigh, and shot a glare at Scratch.

“I’ll deal with you later, mongrel. Now, shoo!”

“Ignore him, Scratch. But you can go back and have fun with the others.”

Tail wagging and tongue lolling out happily, Scratch left. Astarion gave an annoyed huff and folded his wings. Or, attempted to. His control over them seemed to be somewhat lacking.

“Well. I suppose an explanation is in order. I found a book, you see. When we were looting Cazador’s palace. A book on vampires, and vampire spawn. Turns out the bastard was keeping even more from us than I realised!”

He waved a wing angrily, nearly falling from Silence’s hands. She quickly sat down on the bed, and set Astarion down on a cushion.

“Turns out I’m capable of more than I realised. All of us spawn are. Apparently Cazador didn’t want us to get any ideas… According to what I’ve read, I ought to be able to turn to mist, to walk upside down on ceilings, to… Well, to turn into a bat. It took some experimenting, but I figured it out! Only…”

Silence bit her lip to keep a laugh from bursting out.

“Only you can’t work out how to turn back?”

Astarion groaned, burying his head in his wing in embarrassment.

“More than that, I can’t even figure out how to make this useless form fly! I’m stuck as a winged rat, scrabbling around on the ground… Do you have any idea how many times I’ve nearly been stepped on? And the kitchen cats tried to make a meal of me! I had to beg that damned mutt for protection! And… Are you laughing? Is this funny to you?”

Unable to hold in in any longer, Silence let out a snort of laughter, and only laughed harder as the little white bat gave her what he clearly imagined to be a ferocious glare.

“I’ve been worried about you, you precious bastard! And all the time you were a cute little bat!”

She scooped him up again and pressed a kiss to his furry head, holding him up and taking in the long, twitching ears, the leaf-like nose, the sharp little teeth he revealed as he shouted.

“Will you take this seriously? Imagine what the others are going to say! The sheer indignity will kill me!”

“That’s what you get for skulking around and playing with powers you don’t know how to use! Now, where’s this book? We’ll see if we can’t find a way to change you back.”

“Outside, on one of the tables out the back. Assuming no one’s stolen it, that is. Wait, you’re not leaving me here? What if the cats come back?”

Silence, paused, halfway through placing Astarion down on the bed again. He flapped his wings in indignation, and she sighed and placed him on her shoulder instead.

“There. Stop getting yourself in a flap – literally. Those wing claws are sharp!”

At last, with Astarion settled on her shoulder, Silence made her way downstairs, where the tavern rang with cheerful singing. Astarion let out a slight groan.

“Let’s get out of here, quickly. This form has sensitive ears, and that drunken caterwauling is making my head throb!”

Silence tried her best to avoid the rest of the party as she made her way to the door, but with no luck. Spotting her, Gale cried out.

“Ah, there you are! Joining us at last? Come on, pull up a chair, pour a glass! Hello… What have you got there?”

“Oh gods...” Astarion groaned, as Gale approached, looking curiously. “He’ll be insufferable…”

“Well, aren’t you a chatty little fellow?” Gale asked, reaching out to stroke the bat’s head. Astarion snapped at him. “And bitey! Reminds me of Astarion. Any luck tracking him down?”

“Don’t you dare tell him!” Astarion hissed. “I’ll die of embarrassment!”

Gale couldn’t understand, Silence realised. Not without the animal-speaking potion. Although… Her eyes darted to the bar, where Halsin stood close by. Sure enough, the druid was smiling, having clearly understood.

“It seems our pale friend is in something of a predicament! How have you managed that, Astarion?”

“Astarion?” Gale frowned, and looked around the bar. At long last, his eyes returned to the bat currently fuming on Silence’s shoulder. “He isn’t… Is he?”

Well, there was no avoiding it now. One by one, the others turned their attention to Astarion, who hid his face in his wings.

“That’s Astarion?” Karlach cried, leaping from her seat and coming to pet his fur. “He’s so cute! And soft! Aren’t you just precious?”

“Certainly an interesting development,” Wyll remarked. “Could be useful for scouting ahead, or getting to places we can’t…”

“Have you figured out your wings yet?” Halsin asked. “Many druids struggle with flight when they first take a winged form. I can offer some advice, should you need it?”

Astarion flapped his wings angrily, brushing away Karlach’s hands and nearly falling from Silence’s shoulder in the process.

“Unhand me! Gods above, get me out of here!”

“Aww, listen to the cute little squeaks!” Karlach exclaimed. “Is he having a little tantrum?”

“He’s… a little overwhelmed. We’re going to go back upstairs and try to figure things out. See you all later!”

The book, thankfully, was where Astarion had said it would be. An ancient volume, full of loose and torn pages, which Silence briefly flicked through curiously. Arcane diagrams, bizarre illustrations, archaic text…

“You can browse it upstairs! Hurry, I can hear the cats coming back!”

“Alright, calm down. Relax, I’m not going to let you be a cat’s dinner.”

Making a brief detour past the bar for a bottle of wine, Silence hurried back upstairs, and settled onto her bed, the book in front of her, Astarion settling himself onto her lap. Pouring herself a glass of wine, she tried not to laugh as he clumsily attempted to open the cover with his wings, and failed, a giggle bursting out.

“Will you stop laughing? Do you have any idea how hard these wretched things are to control? They feel as if they ought to work like hands, but they don’t! I can’t pick anything up, I can’t turn pages… I can’t even scratch my nose!”

“You’ll figure it out in time, I’m sure. In the meantime…”

Silence gently scratched at the delicate, leaflike nose with one fingertip. Then, unable to resist the soft fur, turned her attention to the fur around his ears. Astarion closed his eyes, letting out a little sigh.

“Well… that I could get used to…”

With one hand now dedicated to bat-scratching, Silence opened the book with the other.

“Right, where were you up to?”

“There’s a page marked with a ribbon. Turn to that one.”

Silence obliged, turning to a page covered with illustrations of bats. Cruel-looking things, not at all like the fluffy white creature in her lap. Seemingly content in his lover’s lap, satisfied that his problem could soon be solved, and rather enjoying having his ears scratched, Astarion yawned, showing off those sharp little fangs again.

“Now, then. If you’d be so good as to turn the pages when I tell you…”

Peace settled over the room. Silence could make little sense of the archaic style of writing, but Astarion seemed to be puzzling it out. She sipped her wine, humming idly, the bat’s fur so very soft under her fingers…

“I wonder… Would you mind?”

Astarion flapped a wing clumsily at the glass in her hand.

“Seriously?”

“What? Perhaps things taste different in this form! It has to come with some perks!”

Silence gave a snort of laughter, but lowered the glass to Astarion’s level all the same, watching him lean over the rim.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Ugh! Gods, if anything, it tastes worse!”

The white fur around his mouth was now stained red, and he clumsily tried to wipe it with his wings. Silence rolled her eyes, and drained the glass herself.

“Now, if you’re done experimenting, ready for me to turn the page?”

How much time passed, Silence couldn’t say. After a while, it occurred to her that she was no longer being asked to turn pages, and the tiny body in her lap was making a rather curious sound.

“Stars? Are you… purring?”

“Hm?” Astarion twitched an ear in her direction, his eyes closed. “I… I suppose I am.”

He yawned again, and the purring resumed. Marking the page, Silence closed the book and set it aside. Gently picking Astarion up, she lay down and settled him on her chest, high enough that he could nuzzle into her neck.

“You seem comfortable, and I’m tired. We can read more in the morning.”

When Silence woke, it was to a familiar figure in bed beside her, arms wrapped around her waist, nose nuzzled into her neck. Letting out a sigh of relief, she stroked a hand through Astarion’s white curls, and scratched lightly at a pointed ear. Not as twitchy and delicate as his bat ears, but still adorable. He gave a sleepy hum of pleasure, and held her tighter.

“Well, last night was interesting. You figured out how to turn back.”

“Not consciously, but it seems the form wears off when I sleep. I think I’ll do some further reading before trying that again.”

“That sounds wise,” Silence agreed, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Though, for what it’s worth, you do make an adorable bat.”

#bg3 fic #astarion #batstarion

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im-a-marvel-ous-hoe · 5 months

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Baby, Please Come Home | Bucky Barnes (1st Day of 🎄)

(Credits to the owner of this gif!)

Hello hello hello! Alondra here! I haven’t written anything in a long time, so I apologize if this is shit lol I’m doin a 12 days of Christmas sort of thing and I’m praying that this doesn’t flop 😅

Christmas Masterlist <- check out my other holiday fics! ✨

~~~~

“Merry Christmas, doll.” I heard Bucky’s voice through the phone, his tone in a slightly higher pitch than usual. I smiled to myself as I sat down on the couch, startling Alpine for a moment as she was just starting to fall asleep. She yawned and stretched out her little white paws in front of me, her claws peaking out as she started to climb onto my lap. The princess has spoken. Looks like I’m gonna be stuck here for a little while.

“Merry Christmas, Bucky.” I spoke. The realization that we’re not spending Christmas together this year comes fluttering to the front of my mind no matter how much I've tried to ignore it these past few weeks. The only sense of warmth I have of him in our house is some old shirts he left behind and our baby Alpine. She’s quiet and craves cuddles, just like her dad. “It uh… it doesn’t sound as good on the phone as I was hoping than in person, does it?” He chuckled out, trying to find a way to lighten the mood. I shook my head, forgetting for a moment that he couldn't see me. “No, it does not.” I replied, clutching my phone close to my ear trying to imagine that he’s here right in front of me and his voice isn’t so staticy.

“You want to say hi to Alpine? She’s right here.” I looked down at the small animal on my lap as my hand began softly scratching her head. “Of course I do! Put her on.” I placed my phone on the arm rest and pressed the speaker button on my screen. “You’re on speaker, baby.” I heard him shuffling on the other end of the line before speaking up. “Alpine? You there?” The cat’s ears turned up and looked towards my phone. “You takin’ good care of your momma?”

She stood up and leaned closer to my phone, inspecting it. It’s like I could see the cogwheels in her head turn as she wondered how she could hear her dad’s voice if he wasn’t here. “She’s been keeping me company.” I smiled and heard him laugh on the other end. “Really?” He said. I could almost picture him smiling. “Yeah! We’re best buddies now. We have so many intellectual conversations.”

“I can’t wait to see it in person. I gotta get Sam to help me figure out how to take a video so I can just do it without messing up when I get home.” I chuckled at the thought of poor Sam having to deal with Bucky’s lack of phone knowledge and the constant bickering they’re bound to have. I swear, sometimes he really does act like a 100-somethin’ year old man. “Sergeant Barnes, you are something else.”

“Hey, you know I still have trouble understanding! I didn’t grow up with this kind of thing.”

“Then how is it that my grandmother is able to figure out Facebook better than you?” I laughed as he grumbled. “Your grandma had more time to figure it out! It’s not my fault she’s hip.”

I could just imagine what his face looks like right now. His eyebrows are probably scrunched up, his gaze is on the floor and his lips are pouty and just waiting to be kissed. I let out a chuckle and looked around our house. The decorations were put up soon after Thanksgiving. We played Christmas music in the background as we both decorated our tree, Alpine seeming to think this is another place for her to climb and make hers. Once Bucky put the star on top, everything just felt perfect, even though I knew I wouldn’t see him on the day of. “I’m really sorry that I wasn’t able to be there this year.” He said. “I tried my best to – ”

“Bucky, don’t worry about it. It’s okay, I completely understand. Our line of work doesn’t exactly allow us to have vacations, sort to speak. I’m not holding it against you.”

“I know, doll, but still. I thought I would at least be home for Christmas.”

“I know, baby, I know but there’s nothing else we can do about it. We’re in two different places and flights are backed up, so I guess we’ll just have to make due with what we’ve got.” I could feel tiny vibrations on my leg as Alpine purred against me, my hand not stopping to show her love. She seems content. He sighed and spoke up once again. “I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

I smiled. “I know you will.”

He cleared his throat as if he was trying to mask the sound of something. “Bucky… was that.. were you in a – ”

“Baby, did you get the thing that I sent you yet?” He cut me off as I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. “Um.. no, no I haven’t. I haven’t gotten anything.” He let out a groan. “No? Are you sure? FedEx promised me it would arrive in time for Christmas.” Alpine leaned in closer to my hand as I scratched the top of her head. “Doll, can you please do me a favor and keep an eye out for it? It could be arriving any minute.” I smiled to myself as I nodded. “Okay, I will.”

“I wanna hear as you see what I got you for Christmas.” I rolled my eyes and chuckled. “Bucky, you know I will love whatever you got me, but what I really want is you and I don’t think FedEx can send people over like that.” He let out a laugh. “Maybe they’d let me if Steve was to put in a good word.”

“You’re such an idiot.” I laughed and Alpine stirred in my lap, a quiet reminder for me to not move or else she’s gone and she’s the only thing in this house keeping me company. I could hear him huffing on the other line as I tried to figure out what he’s doing. “Bucky?”

“Yeah?”

“Where are you?”

“What do you mean where am I? You know where I’m at.”

“No, I mean are you outside? I could hear you huffin’ and puffin’. Are you trying to keep warm?”

“Maybe there’s another reason why you can hear me breathin’ so hard. I’m talkin’ to a pretty girl on the phone and she misses me just as much as I miss her.”

I stayed silent for a moment as I processed his words and gasped. You cheeky little fucker. “James!” My outburst along with Bucky’s laugh startled Alpine once more as she got up and left. “No! Kitty come back!” I could hear him practically wheezing in the background as she left to God knows where in our house. “What happened?”

“You made me scare Alpine out of my lap!” I whined as he continued to laugh at my expense. “Hey, you were the one who got the joke late and yelled, scaring our poor baby Alpine! That’s not my fault!”

“It is too! If you hadn’t made that joke, I wouldn’t have reacted that way!” I’m sure my face must be red from embarrassment as he continued on. “And to answer your question, with no hidden dirty jokes, I went out for a walk. I couldn’t stay in that hotel with Sam trying to find ways to decorate my arm with holiday decorations. Note to self, don’t let Sam buy tinsel and say it’s for the “tree at the Stark Tower”.”

I smiled at the thought of Steve being in the middle of these two teasing each other like children and not knowing which side he should take. Hearing his voice, even if it’s not crystal clear, makes me forget for a moment that he’s not here. There’s almost this sort of echo in the house that really makes you feel like you’re alone. It still breaks my heart, but I wouldn’t tell him to make him feel even worse about it. He’s trying his best and that’s all I could really hope for.

But I do wish he was here. Wherever Bucky goes, that’s home.

“Hey, I’m gonna take a wild guess here and say that you didn’t take the trash cans in like I asked you to.��

I was silent for a moment as I thought about what he said. “You didn’t, did you?” I shook my head and spoke. “Um no, I’m pretty sure I did.” I tried to lie and pretend like I didn’t forget, which in fact I know I did.

“Oh, really? Hmm… are you sure? ‘Cause something is telling me that you forgot.” I smiled and leaned back more into the couch and got comfortable. “I know I tend to be forgetful, but I’m pretty sure I already took them in.” I heard him chuckle. “Alright, alright I’ll believe you. I know you wouldn’t lie to me, baby..”

“Trying to put the guilt trip on me even when you’re not here, baby?” I laughed and grabbed the remote to turn on the TV. “I’m just stating the facts.. oh, hey, one second! I’m getting another call. I’ll be right back.” I waited for him as he placed me on hold and began to browse through Netflix to look for some good Christmas films to watch.

Before I could go to my suggestion list, I heard the doorbell ring.

“Weird, wrong number…” I heard his voice once again as he took me off hold. “Hey, I just heard the doorbell ring.” I spoke as I went to stand up. “It’s probably FedEx. Go check it out and take me with you!” I stood up, grabbed my phone and went to go and find a sweater to quickly put on. “Just uh do me a favor.” He requested. “Sure, baby. What is it?”

“I know you’re lonely at home, but try not to check out the delivery man too much, okay? Even if he is very handsome.” I laughed and shook my head. “Ohh, I don’t know Barnes. I gotta see what kind of a package I’m lookin’ at here.” I joked as he laughed. I walked over to the front door and opened it. My body stood still as my phone fell out of my hands.

“Delivery, for Mrs. – ” Before he could even finish the sentence, I jumped up and wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him towards me. I could feel and hear him laughing against me as his arms embraced me tighter into him. I could feel the cold air from outside come into the house, but I didn’t care. He was warm and he was standing at our doorstep.

He pulled me back so he could look at me and I could see a sheen of tears in his baby blues as he leaned down for a kiss. Both hands cupped my cheeks as he held me in place, his cold lips meeting my own. He’s grown out his stubble and it lightly tickled my top lip. I reached my hands up to tug at his hair and felt him smile against me as soft moans of content left his mouth. He pulled away too soon for my liking and looked down at me and laughed.

“Did ya miss me, doll?” I pulled him in for another kiss as he mumbled against my lips. “I can hardly tell.” His metal hand moved a strand of hair away from my face as he continued to smile at me. “But… how are you here? You’re supposed to be in – ”

“I know I know but we managed to finish the mission early and catch a flight. Turns out, Steve doesn’t mind using the Captain America card to get on a plane while running late.” He chuckled. He rubbed small circles on my cheek as I leaned into him. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you too.” He leaned in to grant me one more kiss before pulling away to make a comment. “I know it seems hard to believe, but I made you a promise that I will try to be home for Christmas and I keep my promises… unlike someone I know who didn’t bring in the trash cans.”

Fuck…

“Oops? You’re not upset, right?” I asked as he shook his head. “No, baby I’m not upset. I could care less about them. I’ve just gone and gave myself the best present a guy could ask for… the love of his life, crying and cheeks reddened in his arms, clinging to him with all the might they can muster..” He laughed as he held me against him.

“I’m here and I’m not going anywhere… now let’s get inside, get a warm drink and see if we can warm ourselves up with each other.” He winked as I playfully slapped his arm. “Let’s go surprise Alpine.”

“Ahh! That’s right!” He walked in and yelled out. “Alpine? Daddy’s home! Where are you sweetheart?” I closed the door behind us and smiled at the thought of him finally being home. He took off his jacket just as she came out from wherever she was hiding. He crouched down as she walked up to welcome him home. “Hey, you. Ya missed me?” He chuckled as he looked up at me.

“Doll?”

“Yeah?” He smiled up at me, his cheeks rosy as he uttered, “Merry Christmas.”

~~~~

I hope y’all liked it! Please let me know your thoughts! Likes, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #christmas imagine #Bucky Barnes christmas #Bucky Barnes Christmas imagine #12 days of christmas #12 days of ficmas #please go easy on me #i haven't written in so long #i hope y'all like it #✨🎄✨🎄

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ravencincaide · 5 months

Text

This little thing

Summary: Not every woman wants their boyfriend to buy them everything they lay their eyes on. It was just excessive. Unfortunately for you, that’s something that Chuuya still struggles with. Or the time Chuuya got you one meaningful gift instead of 50 just-because ones.

Pairing: Reader x Chuuya Nakahara

Inspired by Sweetober prompt 11: Shopping

Hope you enjoy~ ______________________________________________________________

“ Chuu, are you really getting all those felted bunnies for yourself?”

You did little to hide your teasing smile as you stared at your boyfriend's confused expression, his arms filled to the brim with at least fifty handmade animals in all shapes, colours and sizes. All of them were soft; either knitted, crochet or felted and all with exquisite details. Hearing your comment he looked down at his arms, seeming to just realize he may have overdone it slightly. Turning his head left and then right, he quickly came to the realization that there was little place in the small shed for him to place them down. It wasn’t long until the 50 or so animals were levitating in the air between you.

“ So pass on the bunnies” Chuuya agreed, flickering his eyes towards the shelf furthest away where he took them from. All twenty of them returned to the shelf in neat little lines. You watched with an amazed expression on your face, always fascinated by his ability whenever he used it. Which was rare around you. “ Sweetheart?”

You closed your mouth and turned away from the bunnies and back to your boyfriend and the remaining thirty animals levitating around him. Not a single duplicate, each one slightly different than the next, in one way or another one. “ Why so many Chuu?” You asked as you tilted your head to the side.

Chuuya watched your expression carefully before raising his hand and rested it on your cheek. The leather of his glove felt cool on your skin, the touch loving. Even if you’d wish he took those damned things off when around you. “ Because you like this sort of thing”

You blinked in confusion for a moment, trying to figure out where he got that idea from, before it finally clicked. “ Do you mean the felted fox I have in my bookshelf? The one my mum made for me before I moved out?”

“ It looked like it could use a few friends” was all he said, his eyes looking at you with such adoration you could have sworn you hung the moon. Or something. But you could see past that loving expression and down to the emotion which triggered this behavior of excessively buying you anything you could remotely like, let alone want or need. Each date would end with your hands full of different gift bags and presents as if you had just gone Christmas shopping for your entire family instead of spending a few hours together. So now when you were actually out to look around the autumn market with intentions to buy some random cute or practical autumn items you were terrified of how many more things your sweet yet excessive boyfriend would bestow upon you.

“ Love” you called and pressed a hand against his cheek feeling him instantly lean into the touch“ You don’t need to buy me anything, you don’t need to bribe me with gifts and trinkets to keep me. I’m gonna remain your girlfriend even if you get me nothing. So please- no excessive shopping.” You plead hoping you could get through to him. Reluctantly three more animals returned to their shelves.

Only 27 more to go.

“ It shouldn’t be a problem for me to buy things for my girlfriend.” He pressed a quick peck to your lips, clearly deciding that this would be the end of this conversation. You, however, were not planning to give up until all the animals returned to their rightful place.

“ Chuu we talked about this” you mumbled, letting your hand drop away from his cheek and pressing your fingers against your forehead, above the bridge of your nose. You were fighting off the oncoming headache “ You know that when you just pile on things on me like this it makes me feel inherently guilty and indebted to you. I know it’s not what you’re after- I honestly do- but it also makes it harder for me to say no to you when I really should.”

“ You never need to feel that way,” he said, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “ You know I’d never ask for anything that you don’t want or aren’t ready for.”

You looked up at him as he moved your fingers away from your forehead and clasped them tightly in his hand. His lips were quick to replace them, the gentle touch beginning to ease the frown. “ Chuu please” you begged “ We can compromise on something somewhere else okay? I really don’t want anything from here and if you keep buying me things I show a slight interest in I’ll not have enough space for the truly precious gifts you get me.”

You watched him hesitating, the gears in his head turning as he fought back the argument that ‘you could just move in with him’ or he could ‘buy you a bigger place or storage space’. Thankfully even Chuuya realized that your relationship was not at that point, yet. “ Fine” he muttered, pulling back and pushing his hat over his eyes as the remaining animals returned to their shelf.

“ Thank you Chuu” You gave him a peck on the lips, trying to ignore how pouty he looked. Like the thought of not gifting you the entire store physically hurt him “ Now that we’ve checked this place out, wanna head towards the fall market stalls? I heard the farmers outdid themselves this year with fall-themed treats and pastries!”

Before Chuuya replied, you grabbed his hand and turned around, starting to head for the door.

Just then something off to the side, hanging on the wall, partially obscured by numerous knitted hats and gloves, caught your eye. It was a hanger full of white hand-knitted floor-length scarf that resembled more a small blanket than something practical. It was full of intricate designs in various shades of white. From this distance you couldn’t fully tell what the designs were, but you were certain they were just as detailed as the rest of the items in the shop- if not more. You were captivated by the way it shimmered from a distance; the shift of silver, icy and blue colours depending on how the light hit it. But most importantly, it looked soft and warm, like a hug that would protect its wearer against even the coldest and most bone chilling Japanese winter days. It was clearly a handmade thing- a unique one of kind that you had never before seen. And you were certain you’d never see a second of its kind again. God you wanted to look at it closer, run your fingers over the material to see if it was as soft as it looked.

You bit your lip in thought.

Then deciding that it would make you too much of a hypocrite if you were to go and buy the first thing your eyes lingered on after you just scolded Chuuya for doing just that. So you turned your back on it and headed outside the small store pulling your boyfriend behind you.

You regretted your choice almost the second you step outside; the autumn sun was quick to set while you were browsing inside the warm stall, letting the chilly autumn night air set in. The wet coldness seemed to crawl past your clothes and chill you to your core despite the five layers you were wearing. A scarf would have been nice, you mused to yourself bitterly.

Still proud and stubborn however, you refused to turn around and get it. Instead you took a look around the sea of people before picking a direction at random. It wasn’t long until you and Chuuya were walking side by side, admiring the handiwork:, from hand carved wooden toys and games to weaved socks and sweaters. It didn’t take long until you arrived at the part of the market which sold food; jams, cheeses and meats, fall vegetables and even pumpkins together with a pumpkin carving contest.

“ Sweetheart shall we get some hot chocolate?” You turned to look at your boyfriend who nodded in the direction of a semi-long line. All it took was another blow of the chilly wind for you to agree. Indeed you nodded, hot chocolate sounded like a splendid idea to warm up. Almost too eager you went to the queue wondering what sorts of flavors they had to offer. You stood ahead of Chuuya in line, with your boyfriend hugging you from behind, head resting on your shoulder, eyes closed. Gently you moved from one foot to another, a soft rocking motion that kept you warmer and seemed to make your boyfriend sleepier.

You hated to admit it but if it got any colder you’d probably have to call it a day early, independently of how much more of this market you got to see. The thought made a wave of disappointment wash over you, this was one of the few together-activities that you were really looking forward to and wouldn't get to re-experience until next year!

“ Sweetheart, can you get me the dark one with marshmallows?” Chuuya asked after five minutes of waiting, breaking your trail of thought.

You tilted your head to the side in confusion “ Sure, you going somewhere?”

“ Just give me a moment” Chuuya pressed a kiss to your neck, his cold nose making you shiver, before he disappeared into the masses, somehow perfectly blending in despite how lightly dressed he was, on top of wearing his hat and black coat which swayed behind him with each step. Although his clothes were stunning on him, they did make him stand out among the masses of warm coats and gloves. You looked after him before shaking your head and turning back to count the number of heads that were left before it was your turn. Concluding it was ‘many’ you wrapped your arms tightly around yourself missing Chuuya’s embrace more than ever.

It took you another ten minutes until you got hot chocolate for you both. Once you got the two large cups overflowing with goonesses you began facing the dilemma of where you’d find Chuuya. Looking left, then right you made your way towards a small empty table to the side of the stall and set your mugs down there. Before you could reach for your phone, a familiar arm wrapped around your waist, pressing you closely to his chest. “ Hmm smells good. Wait long sweetheart?”

“ Not at all” You smiled as he nuzzled into you before moving back from you. The action confused you: you turned your body to face him, your back leaned against the table momentarily forgetting about the chocolate and the coldness.

“ Here Y/N” Chuuya stated as he held up the paperbag towards you, looking to the side. His face looked flushed, something between embarrassed and guilty, with a redness that not even the chilly autumn wind could achieve.

You looked skeptic for a moment before carefully taking the bag from him. You watched his hand drop to his side and he still wasn’t looking at you, perhaps because he was expecting that you’d scold him for it. In fact you could see him sigh heavily, clenching and unclenching his fist in nervousness.

You turned your attention away from Chuuya and towards the white wrapping tissue which kept the gift inside obscured. With careful fingers you moved the paper aside before you gasped. Inside was the fluffy white scarf, looking even more stunning than it did on the hanger.

“ Ohh Chuuya-baby you shouldn’t have” you mumbled in shock trailing your fingers carefully over the hand embroidered design of a shimmering- glittering snowflake. The material was much softer than you could have imagined. “ It must have been so expensive.”

“ Do you like it?” he asked carefully, still cautious in case he had somehow offended you.

“ I love it” you looked up at him with a huge smile on your face. “ This is the best and most thoughtful gift you’ve ever given me, thank you so so soooo much Chuu!”

He chuckled at your excitement before reaching for the bag, intending to help you wrap yourself up in it. As he draped the warm material over your shoulders you grabbed the front of his jacket and crashed your lips together in a long, grateful kiss. It took him less than a second to reciprocate, his lips moving against yours. The kiss was deep yet sweet and gentle, neither rushed nor sexy-passionate. Still it was a kiss you’d remember for a long time.

After all, there was just something magical about kissing Chuuya in the middle of the autumn market, surrounded by people, lights and under the warmths of the most thoughtful and caring gift your boyfriend had ever gifted you. Even if with each kiss the hot chocolate behind you grew colder and colder..

#bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya x reader #sweetober #Chuuya sweetness #caring boyfriend #autumn market #chuuya nakahara #bungou stray dogs chuuya #buying thoughtful gifts #Cold sweetness

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boxofbonesfic · 9 months

Note

Drabble idea: your next door neighbour is reclusive and you rarely see him but you do notice the strange noises you hear during the full moon and the women who enter his apartment and don't come out.

(Werewolf! Curtis Everett)

Title: Moonsign

Pairing: Werewolf!Curtis Everett x Reader

Summary: You pick the wrong night to return your neighbor’s mis-delivered mail.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Violence, Monsterfucking-adjacent, Violence, Werewolf AU

A/N: so i fell in love with this prompt—

You pause, your fist half a centimeter from the door as a sharp howl splits the air. Maybe he has a dog. You’ve never actually seen your reclusive neighbor out with one around the block, but working nights has left you decidedly out of the loop on neighborhood events. The block’s been a ghost town lately anyway, what with over half the buildings covered in red and yellow tape signaling that they would soon be torn down or repurposed into housing neither you nor your roommates would be able to afford.

The pile in your hands consists of fifteen letters plus a small package you’d opened by mistake—a dried bundle of beautiful purple flowers you’d had to look at the card inside to identify as decorative monkshood. Behind the house, the sun is setting bright orange and red, casting the dreary porch in shadow. I’m overthinking this.

You knock.

The door creaks open, and you stand, stunned in the doorway with your arm still raised as you stare into the dim hallway beyond.

“H-hello?” You croak, your throat suddenly tight. You drop your arm. “Mr. Everett?” There’s no response, at least not one you can hear from the porch. The sound of cicadas grows in your ears as you shift nervously from foot to foot. I’ll just.. leave it inside. On a table or something.

“I’m, um, I’m coming in,” you follow the statement with a timid step across the threshold. “I’ve just um, I’ve got some mail of yours, I think it was delivered by mistake.” The rug muffles the sound of your footsteps as you shuffle toward the warm yellow light at the end of the hall. It’s a kitchen—and it’s empty.

You set the mail down on the small table. “Sorry I opened one by mistake,” you call, before shaking your head. “What am I doing,” you mutter, pinching the bridge of your nose. “There’s nobody even home.” That’s fine, all the better. You don’t want to have to face your neighbor after opening his mail. As you turn to head back outside, your foot catches against the leg of a chair pulled back from the table. You stumble, letting out a loud curse.

“Goddammit—” It’s only just out of your lips before you freeze, your stomach tightening. Your cry of pain seems mirrored somehow, like an echo—

Like you’re not alone in this house.

You go to speak, but find your mouth dry, and throat tight as you cup your hands around your mouth.

“Hello?” It comes out as a croak. “I’m sorry for intruding, the door was open and—” You tremble as the answering animal bellow cuts your nervous excuse in half, the unsaid words hanging unspoken in the air in front of your trembling mouth.

Is he hurt or something?

“Mr. Everett?”

For a moment, the house is so silent you can hear the traffic outside, and then the same agonized wail reverberates up through the floorboards, setting your heart racing. You clamp a hand over your mouth to silence the terrified whimper that threatens to escape. It sounds again and again until you realize it isn’t just an anguished, pained yell— someone is speaking to you.

“—lp me,” the words are barely discernible, like the one speaking them can barely manage. “Help me…”

There is another door in the kitchen, one that doesn’t lead back out into the rest of the small house. It, like the front door, opens easily with little effort. The heavy door swings open on silent hinges, exposing a set of dimly lit cement stairs winding down into the dark basement.

“Mr. Everett are you—are you down here?” Your reluctant voice takes a long time to bounce back to your ears. “Do-do you need me to call someone? Did you fall?”

“It… hurts…”

You aren’t sure why the thought of going down those stairs fills you with a primordial sense of dread, like your body is painfully aware of something your waking mind isn’t. You hesitate, but then another anguished wail accompanied by a sick sounding crack spurs you into action. He was hurt down there, and your waffling wasn’t helping.

You shine your phone light on the stairs as you descend, each step dragging icy fingers slowly down your spine. You swallow thickly as you reach the bottom, cool sweat prickling at your temples. The bare bulb hanging by the landing gives off comically little light, forcing you to squint, your brows furrowed as you stare into the gloom. The house upstairs, like most of the buildings on the block, was an old construction, built some time in the sixties or seventies—but this concrete was new.

And the basement… it’s bigger than you’d thought possible, the walls invisible to you either by darkness or design. The air down here is still and heavy, and you cannot will yourself to break the pregnant silence. Goosebumps rise on your skin.

A sickening crack shatters the quiet, and the pained noise that follows is louder and closer than ever before. You squeak with fear, before covering your mouth with your hands. It stinks down here, you realize, a tart, copper scent that you finally recognize as a mix of sweat and blood.

“You…came.” The words sound pleased, despite the speaker’s obvious pain. And that voice… You squeeze your arms around yourself, taking a step back towards the landing. It was like an animal growling words. It doesn’t even sound human.

Your heel bumps the concrete as you begin to back away.

“M-Mr. Everett, I’m going to g-g-go call someone f-for you—”

“I wai-ted for yo-ou,” the voice rasps, continuing on as if you haven’t spoken at all. “Call-ed fo-r yo-ou.” Something shifts in the dark—something big. There is a heavy grunt, and then the sound of metal dragging against the concrete. A whimper worms its way past your lips as slowly, the weak glow of the swaying bulb above your head reflects off of two pale blue eyes, glinting in the dark. The thing stops moving, the dragging sound suddenly ceasing.

“He thi-nks this will sto-op me,” the sound of the chain striking concrete is like the thunder outside, the spark briefly illuminating—something. You can’t comprehend it—huge and hulking, dark fur—“There is no ca-ge for me that he can bui-ld that I cannot destro-oy.”

There is a sound like metal crunching and then your legs are moving before you tell them to, scrambling up the stairs on your hands and feet like an animal as a rasping sound like laughter follows at your heels.

You’re barely through the door when you hear it on the stairs, something big coming up behind you—you bolt towards the front door, a scream erupting from your throat. You grab the door handle—

As claws tear through your overalls, splitting the skin underneath like hot knives. You fall forward with a cry against the door. It knocks the wind out of you, and you fall to your knees, your eyes blurry with tears. It’s like a wolf, you realize as it looms over you—but like a man, too, standing on thickly furred legs with an unnatural, canine bend.

Pale blue eyes sit above its dark muzzle, and they sparkle with dark amusement. You open your mouth to scream again and it lunges, burying sharp white teeth into the meat of your shoulder. You can taste your own blood, smell it in the air around you as you gurgle. Your blood gleams on its muzzle when it pulls away, dripping down onto your face as it hums.

“He will have to keep you now.” Terrified tears track down your cheeks as the bite mark on your shoulder begins to burn. “Like he wants to.”

End

#chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fandom #cevans fandom #cevans fic #curtis everett #curtis everett imagine #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett x you #curtis everett x y/n #werewolf au #werewolf curtis everett #werewolf!curtis #darkfic #dark mc #boxofbonesfic #boxofbones drabbles #bones drabbles

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