#finding everything that is wrong and wanting immediate solutions

[the-thistle-missile]

Hmm we’ve gone from bringing the discs back every time to rarely. She’ll drop it when I ask, but she’ll also drop it about 3-6 feet away when I have not asked her to. Bleh. Her recall is vastly improving though! We were able to play hide and seek earlier (and I think it was really fun for her)

[visdiefje]

Man I can't wait until I can recover alone for a while

[gabseyoo]

BLANKETS — MIYA ATSUMU

content: msby!atsumu, established relationship, fluff, female reader. word count: 0,7k.

“Did I do something wrong?”

Atsumu asked, stepping into the room with only a towel slung low around his hips, his damp blonde hair clinging messily to his forehead. His skin still glistened with the remnants of steam, and he left wet footprints on the hardwood floor.

After a long, exhausting day, all he wanted was to crawl into bed, snuggle into his beautiful girlfriend’s arms, and drift off to sleep under the familiar blanket you shared.

But something was different tonight.

The first few steps of his nighttime routine went as usual—you were already in bed, reading a book and waiting for him—but the beloved gray blanket was neatly folded on his side of the bed, while a soft pink one covered your legs.

His eyes flickered to yours in confusion. “Why the question?” You asked, glancing up from your book. Then you noticed his stare and let out a quiet, “Oh.”

“You mad at me?” He pressed, his lower lip jutting out just a little, already preparing for the worst.

“I’m not mad.” You reassured him with a small smile. “It’s just an idea I had.” Before he could ask why, you continued, “Remember what we talked about? About, uh… your sleeping habits?”

Atsumu blinked. Oh. That talk.

Of course, he remembered. Two months ago. It had been two weeks after you moved in together, when love and domestic bliss were still new and shiny. You’d sweetly mentioned that his nighttime antics were, well, a little… chaotic. Sometimes throwing an arm over your face, sometimes draping a leg across you like an overly affectionate octopus. Which were completely fine for you, but the one thing you couldn’t deal with was that he was a shameless blanket thief.

He’d promised to work on it. But sleep-logic Atsumu and awake-logic Atsumu were two entirely different creatures.

So, you had tried everything. Tucking the blanket under you, securing it beneath the mattress—nothing worked. And so, you’d come up with a simple solution: separate blankets.

Atsumu, however, was clearly not a fan of this idea.

With a dramatic sigh, he shuffled to the closet, every step a performance of exaggerated woe. He tugged out a pair of boxers, his expression the embodiment of a heartbroken puppy.

“Baby…” You called to him, your voice gentle but laced with an I-know-you’re-about-to-be-dramatic tone.

“If you want to divorce me, just say so.” He mumbled, slipping on his boxers. His shoulders slumped, and he looked as if he might melt into a puddle right there on the floor.

You rolled your eyes, fighting a smile. “We’re not even married.”

“Exactly! That’s worse! You could just leave me. No legal ties, no paperwork, just gone—poof!” He flailed his arms for emphasis. “And then I’ll have to fight for the house in court while you take the dog that we don’t even have yet.”

“Atsumu.”

“And before I know it, you’ll find someone who sleeps like a corpse and doesn’t steal blankets, and you’ll never be cold again and—”

You shut your book, the sound soft but definitive. He stopped mid-ramble, watching as you set it on the nightstand and reached for his hand.

“Hey.”

He blinked at you, his expression still a perfect blend of pitiful and hopeful.

“You know it’s not about you being a problem, right?” You said, your thumb drawing lazy circles on his hand.

“...It’s not?” His lip wobbled just a bit, milking the moment for all it was worth.

You shook your head and gently pulled him closer. The distance between you dissolved, and with it, a little bit of his drama. “No, dummy. I just need sleep too.”

He exhaled, all his performative misery unraveling into a dramatic slump of relief. “Fine.” He muttered, dragging his feet as you coaxed him into bed. “But I don’t like it.”

You giggled and he immediately flopped down, half on top of you as usual, his weight pinning you to the mattress like a very clingy, very warm blanket of his own.

“What if we just get a bigger comforter?” He asked, muffled against your shoulder.

You hummed thoughtfully, fingers combing through his damp hair. “That might work.”

“We can go buy it tomorrow.”

“We can.” You agreed, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “But until then, separate blankets.”

[writing-girlie]

Push & Pull

Pairing: Intern!Reader x Mentor!Michael Robinavitch

Blurb: The young intern is drawn to her mentor, as they work together in The Pitt but when feeling start to form what started as admiration turns into quiet, unresolved tension.

WC: 2.6k

Part 2 is here

Note: I don't really know if I like this but I spent to long trying to put it together so have it. I could write a part 2 with a resolution and some spice if it's wanted.

The Pitt never slowed down. The wailing ambulance sirens and the hum of chatter from the waiting room were reminders of the next patient needing help. Machines beeped and voices barked orders, and down one of the halls, a patient screamed - just another night of chaos.

Dr. Michael “Robby” Robinavitch practically thrived in it, moving through the madness with a strong sense of calmness. His years of experience made it look effortless—the confidence in his every decision, the lack of hesitation that reassured those around him. In a place where seconds could mean the difference between life and death, he was the kind of doctor people trusted without question.

That is what the interns lacked - experience. They come in wide-eyed and eager to help people, their textbook solutions only getting them so far. Some would crumble under the pressure, others would prove themselves ready. The interns step into the Pitt in crisp scrubs, their gazes flickering between awe and nerves. A quick glance tells Robby everything—most are trying, and failing, to mask their anxiety.

And then, he notices her

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You stood a step away from the rest of the group, taking in everything not with fear but determination, memorising the surrounding area.

Your eyes lock with a ruggedly handsome man—broad shoulders, sharp gaze, exhaustion buried beneath professionalism. You offer a smile, but he doesn’t return it. No flicker of acknowledgment, no warmth. Just a neutral, assessing stare before he looks away.

He walks over to the small group, getting their attention.

“Good Morning, Good Morning. Come on over!” He speaks in a smooth tone with a subtle rasp.

You all step closer and he runs through some key details before sending the group off with himself or the senior residents and of course, your luck lands you with Robby. You follow him promptly into a room. The patient, a teenage boy, his face screwed up with pain, and a soft hold on his ankle. At a quick glance you suspected a sprain - nothing serious.

Robby crouches down, fingers lightly pressing against the swollen area. “What happened?”

“Basketball” the kid grits out “Landed wrong from a jump”

Robby hums, rotating the foot slightly. The boy flinches. “Probably a sprain, maybe a fracture. I’ll order an X-ray”

Then Dana rushes in. “Multiple GSW en route, two minutes out”

Robby immediately stands up and heads for the door, he looks at you.

“You handle this”

“Alone?” The question slipped out, not because you doubted yourself, but because the sudden shift had caught you off guard.

Robby tilts his head, slightly unimpressed. “It’s an ankle, not open heart surgery” and before you had time to answer, he was gone.

You crouch, carefully examining the ankle. Then you press along the leg and the kid growls in pain. There it is. “I’d say it’s a syndesmotic injury.” He looks confused. “Oh, a high ankle sprain. So it’s the above the ankle not beside it.” You tell him a little more before putting in for an x-ray. Once you’ve done that you aid a nurse in another room briefly.

You glance over the patient list when Robby comes up to you. “You figured it out?”

“Syndesmotic injury” you nod. He doesn’t say anything but the corner of his mouth twitches. “Alright, next patient” He looks over the patient list.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The days blur together as the weeks pass, each shift a mix of routine cases and intense moments that seem to stretch on forever. You’ve settled into the rhythm of the hospital, finding your footing in the chaos. Your confidence has grown; you make decisions faster now, with less second-guessing. Robby remains a constant presence, one you can’t seem to escape, and maybe you don’t want to.

At first, it was just respect. Admiration for his skills, his leadership, the way he commands the room without raising his voice. But as time goes by, it’s harder to ignore the small moments, the ones that make your heart skip. The way he stands just a little too close when explaining a procedure, his voice steady but warm. The occasional glance in your direction, like he’s waiting for something from you, and when your hands brush while passing equipment lingers in ways you can’t shake.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Throughout the hospital other staff pick up on the moments and tension too.

Dr. Langdon leaned casually against the counter, eyeing Robby from the corner of his eye as you walked past. He didn’t miss how Robby didn't look away until you were out of sight and neither did Robby.

He quickly averted his eyes, hands gripping his clipboard a little too tightly. He shouldn't do this but every time you smiled, every time you made a decision that impressed him, it got harder to ignore. He shook it off, focusing on the next chart, but the unease in his chest wouldn’t go away.

"You know," Langdon slides up beside him, his voice light but teasing, "for someone who's always so composed, you don't hide it very well."

Robby didn’t even glance at him. "Hide what?"

Langdon smirked, tilting his head. "The way you watch her. The way you get all tense when someone else talks to her. Everyone notices it, It’s almost… endearing.”

Robby scoffed, shaking his head. "You’re imagining things."

"Am I?" Langdon pushed off the counter, crossing his arms. "Because I’ve seen you do it a dozen times now. Hell, I’m starting to think you don’t even realize you’re doing it."

Robby exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his face. "I watch all of you. It’s my job to pay attention."

Langdon snorted. "Right. Because you stare at everyone like that." Robby shot him an unimpressed look. "Fine," Langdon conceded, "let’s say you watch everyone. I still wanna know—what is it about her?"

Robby hesitated, rolling his pen between his fingers. "She works harder than she has to. Not because she’s trying to impress anyone, but because she wants to be better. And she’s stubborn as hell too, but I respect that.” He let out a slow breath. "When I was an intern, I damn near burnt myself out doing the same thing, trying to prove to myself that I could do it all." His voice dipped lower. "I see myself in her."

Langdon hummed, considering that for a moment. Then, he arched his brow. "Don’t think you should be thinking about your interns like that, man."

Robby’s jaw tightened. “That is not what I meant.”

Langdon just grinned. “Yeah, maybe. But you do think about her, don’t you? Pretty, young, interested in you—”

"Don't you have patients to attend to?" His tone was calm, but there was no mistaking the warning in it. Langdon chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender.

“Alright, alright.” He pushed off the counter, still smirking as he walked away. “But just so you know, that wasn’t a no.”

His gaze flickers back to you, now leaning against the nurses station for a moment. If ‘everyone knew’ why not go for it a little.

You barely noticed Robby approach until something cold pressed against your arm. You startled slightly, turning to find him standing closer than expected, holding out a bottle of water.

“Here” he ordered, his voice low, steady.

You took the bottle, fingers brushing in the exchange. “If you wanted me to drink water, you could’ve just asked. Coulda got it myself.”

Robby tilted his head slightly, his gaze flicking between your face and the bottle in your hand. “Would you have listened?”

You hummed, twisting off the cap. “We’ll never know now.”

His eyes lingered for a second longer, like he was waiting for something. You took a sip, and only then did he seem satisfied.

Lowering the bottle, you raised an eyebrow. “Have you had any water recently?”

The slight shift in his expression was barely noticeable, “I don’t need you worrying about me,” he said smoothly.

You smirked. “Oh, so you can worry about me, but I can’t return the favor?”

“Just drink the water” He looks down at you.

You tilt your head, giving him a playful grin. “Didn't realise I was one of your patients Dr Robinavitch”

Robby’s lips quirked up in a half-smile, his gaze locking with yours. “Well, maybe not but I'll let you know I have a brilliant patient satisfaction score”

You raised an eyebrow, leaning in just slightly. “Is that so?”

Robby chuckled, a low, almost husky sound that made the space between you feel even smaller. “It’s true”

The playful grin stays on your lips. “I’m sure you have your methods. You should be careful though Robby. Someone might mistake that confidence for something else.”

His gaze lingered on your lips “Don’t worry, I’m perfectly aware of what I’m doing” he said, looking back up to your eyes. “and it's only with you”

You tilted your head slightly, the playful grin still tugging at your lips. “Are you trying to impress me?”

His gaze didn’t waver. “Is it working?”

You hummed, tapping a finger idly against the bottle. “I don’t know… maybe I need a little more convincing.”

Robby’s smirk deepened, slow and knowing. “Dangerous request.”

You lifted a shoulder in a lazy shrug.

His gaze flicked over your face, assessing, considering. Then, with a quiet chuckle, he shook his head. “Drink your water.”

You scoffed, twisting the cap off but not breaking eye contact as you took a slow sip. “Bossy.”

Robby exhaled through his nose, the hint of a smirk still playing at his lips. “And yet, you listen.”

You lowered the bottle, tilting your head. “Don’t let it go to your head,” you smirk “Michael”

He didn’t respond right away, just let his eyes linger on you for a moment too long before finally stepping back. “See you around, intern.”

And just like that, the space between you as you went your separate ways. Neither of you realized the small group of nurses watching the moment. “My God” one murmurs.

Another glances up from their clipboard, smirking. “He just can't help himself”

A nurse, clearly amused, pulls out a small notepad. “Alright, bets are open. How long before Robinavitch actually does something about it?”

“I say two months.”

“Three.”

Another hums. “I give it two weeks.”

The rest of them scoff. “Please. He’s Robby.”

“Hey No risk, No reward.” She shrugged

Another nurse leans in. “You know he’s going to be the last one to realize it, right?” They all snicker. A senior nurse walks by, shaking their head.

“You people need new hobbies.”

Someone grins. “Admit it—you want in.” They hesitate. Then, under their breath, “Put me down, him admitting, 3 weeks”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Most patients you’ve dealt with so far have been easy to deal with, good behaviour, easy injuries to treat but the calm doesn’t last. You’re standing next to your patient with a scalpel, you know what you’re supposed to do but your trembling fingers betray your calm exterior. You take a deep breath and tighten your grip but it feels like it gets worse. It’s so subtle that no one else probably notices but you do and it’s enough to make you doubt yourself.

“You’re hesitating” Robby's voice cuts through your thoughts, as he now stands next to you. You don’t need to look at him to realize how close he is to you. You open your mouth to offer an apology, some excuse, but before you can speak, his hand is over yours. His large hand encapsulates yours, steadying the tool.

Robby doesn’t take over, you still have control over the situation but he provides a foundation, something to rely on.

“Take a breath” He says, softly enough for only you to hear, almost drowned out by the beeping monitors. You inhale deeply then let it out. He guides you hand lower then you take control, making the incision. Slowly, he removes his hand and gives you a little more room. Once you complete it another doctor steps in to continue the procedure. When it is finished the others leave and you finish up with the patient.

In the days that follow, something shifts between you. Robby, once so present and reassuring, becomes a distant figure. He’s still there, of course, commanding the room, offering direction when necessary. He doesn’t linger after a procedure, no quiet words of praise, no passing smiles or glances. Where before his gaze would occasionally catch yours, steady and warm, a silent understanding, now he looks past you.

Robby's voice was flat as he gave you the next assignment, his gaze moving past you to the patient file in his hand. When you brushed past him in the narrow hall, his shoulder barely grazed yours, and he didn’t even flinch. It was as if the space between you had grown suddenly wide and impassable.

At first, when Robby started pulling away, you refused to let it affect you. You were determined not to let the distance grow between you, not after all the moments that had passed between you. You kept trying, trying to be present, trying to offer that warmth you once did, even when he barely acknowledged it. You’d joke like you always did, still meet his gaze, even though it felt like the space between you had stretched impossibly wide. You tried to keep it light, keep the moments of connection alive, even when his responses were curt, his presence colder, more distant.

You told yourself it was just a phase, that he was busy, or perhaps under more stress than usual. And so, you gave him more. You kept pushing, kept offering those small gestures of care, those quiet conversations, believing that if you just kept being you—the same person who found comfort in the moments between chaos—he would eventually come around. But with each attempt, you felt the distance grow. Robby gave nothing back. He didn’t meet your gaze the same way. His smiles were rare and often fleeting, like he was somewhere else, mentally miles away.

Soon, those quiet moments you once shared became just fragments of what they were, fleeting and almost painful to try and hold onto. You began to notice it in your own actions. You didn’t reach out for his gaze anymore, because it wasn’t returned. You didn’t try to get too close, because he always stepped back, a subtle but clear signal that whatever had once been there was no longer something he was willing to nurture.

At first, you blamed yourself. You tried harder, putting everything into maintaining some semblance of what had been between you. But over time, the effort began to drain you. You found yourself hesitating more, second-guessing your words, your actions. The weight of his indifference began to chip away at you, slowly, relentlessly. You couldn’t give him everything when he gave you nothing in return. You couldn’t continue to be the person who extended herself, who made the effort, only to be met with silence or coldness.

And so, little by little, you started to pull back too. It wasn’t a conscious decision at first—it was more like instinct. You stopped seeking him out, stopped offering up those moments that used to come so naturally. You allowed the space between you to grow, because deep down, you knew it was what you both needed. If he wasn’t willing to meet you halfway, you couldn’t keep giving. You couldn’t keep pretending that everything was fine when it was clear he wasn’t letting you in anymore.

The last few interactions between you two were laced with a quiet, unspoken acknowledgment of what had passed between you. The playful exchanges, the teasing glances, all faded into something more distant, more strained. And with that, you let go, piece by piece, until the distance was all that remained between you two, and the closeness that once felt so effortless was nothing now.

[idontmindifuforgetme]

Not immediately jumping to unsolicited advice when someone confides in you

Avoiding absolute statements when you do give someone advice. You do not know someone better than they know themself. All you can do is offer guidance. Thinking otherwise in any capacity is symptomatic of ego and lack of empathy.

Accepting the fallibility of being a person lol. A lot of people will say they “get angry” when they notice someone floundering, so their solution is to yell at them or get extremely cruel with their words. In this case you don’t have the capacity to give advice, and you would do more than damage than good in giving it.

Never using being honest as an excuse to be cruel

Asking your friend questions. Gently prompting them into the answer that fits them best. It is better than immediately giving commands as to their next step

Knowing that time and place matter. When someone is fresh off a difficult situation, the last thing they want to be slammed with is advice. They just want to be listened to. Active listening > advice in that scenario.

Kindness costs you 0. Not coddling someone ≠ being liberally rude to them under the guise of honesty

Asking yourself if you really have their best interest in mind or if you’re reacting out of a selfish place and disguising it as “caring” for your friend

Being patient …. Many people need to be told this

Is it emotional labor or are you just poisoned by therapy speak?? There does reach a reasonable point where we all hit the ceiling about “helping” our friend / finding it difficult to see them self sabotage / whatever the situation may be… but I feel like a lot of people forget what friendship really is tbh. Not everything is emotional labor. Taking a little bit out of your day to listen to a recurring issue isn’t the end of the world. I won’t harp on this too much bc people have varying limits, but I don’t like the weaponization of just being there for your friends these days

Remembering your compassion. We are all struggling all tripping out all trying to get it together. I just hate how some people don’t find it in them to empathize. If you can’t empathize then why are you trying to give advice? How do you expect to put yourself in their shoes? Compassion informs sound advice.

Asking yourself if you’re okay with being spoken to the way you’re speaking to someone right now, even if their excuse is just that they’re giving advice / trying to help. If you dish it but can’t take it, that’s a good sign you’re saying something fucked up

Delivery matters. A lot of people seem to forget this. Does it make it okay if someone is yelling at you / tearing into you / lambasting you with a “good” point? Like we all deserve a base foundation of respect and common decency. No one is wrong for centering their feelings in that scenario.

[ihavetoomanyocsdealwithit]

You break down into tears and tell them: "It’s been so long since I’ve felt this happy, I think I just got overwhelmed. You make me happy.” 

Heartslabyul dorm; Savanaclaw dorm; Octavinelle dorm (here); Scarabia dorm; Pomefiore Dorm; Ignihyde Dorm; Diasomnia Dorm

Jade Leech – The hike was a grueling one, and late as well. You understood now why you had to pack a tent and sleeping bag for this one, thought he cooling air was helping with your sore feet.  

When you had arrived at the clearing, he had the two of you quickly set up and then led away to a hidden entrance. It was a cave where he kept his more dangerous mushrooms, the soft glow of the moon entering through holes in the roof reflecting the stalactites above with dew like a knives edge.  

He’s whispering softly, as if too loud of a sound will disturb them. Maybe that’s why the hitch in your breath seems to echo.  

He only grows more confused as you explain. Is this a land dweller reaction? No, no he had never seen something like this before, even in his short time interacting with others.  

He gives that polite smile that’s just on the edge of something softer, using his gloves to wipe them away before lifting your chin.  

“You must expect more from life,” He tells you, the words echoing divinely. “And if you cannot find it, cultivate it. All things can thrive, under the right conditions. That includes us.”  

Floyd Leech – Azul doesn’t like it when he does experimental dishes in the Monstro Lounge kitchen, which is silly, but he doesn’t feel like dealing with the fight right now. So he just breaks into Ramshackle to cook in yours!  

You don’t mind really, they be experimental but they are usually tasty, sometimes even pretty, though you always double check that something like shellfish or shrimp is cooked to human temperatures. You two had learned that the hard way.  

He laughs at your scrunched up nose as you sip the broth from his spoon. He doesn’t see the way you just stare at him a moment, turning your face to hide.  

As he listens, his hands clench. That’s fucked up. It can’t-it shouldn’t- but it is. You can’t always do what you want when your shrimpy size. He can’t even do that at his size.  

He picks you up and twirls you around the kitchen, squeezing until you start laughing again.  

“I’ll just have to steal Shrimpy away more often,” he says, “And we can both be happy together. No more tears though. Lots of people deserve to cry, and Shrimpy isn’t one of them.”  

Azul Ashengrotto – It was a small debate, with you defending local business and him defending corporate business. It was something the two of you had done before, matching wits and parries, but something felt different this time.  

You just stare a moment, a soft smile until he saw it. A small tear quickly wiped away. Azul immediately wipes it away, asking what he did wrong, only to find the opposite. He simply makes you happy.  

He starts crying with you, the both of you a bit hysterical. He never imagined this. Somebody just being there to be there, how he values your opinion and thoughts, how you can debate like this and it not get too heated. The urge to collect and keep is so strong. To simply gather you into a cave and feed and gift you everything you could ever desire. But you wouldn’t take it and he knows it.  

So he settles with wiping your years with his embroidered handkerchief, appreciating the way the lavender contrasts with your skin.  

“Well, angelfish, the solution to your problem is simple.” he declares, tucking the handkerchief into your dorm pocket, “You must simply stay by me.”  

[belit0]

Hi I hope your doing well.

I have a silly request, can you do tobirama and indra tripping on to their crushes chest, like maybe on accident or on purpose but if you choose on accident can you describe their headcannons.

I just want to have a good giggle, hope your doing well!

PLEASE FORGIVE ME FOR TAKING SO LONG, FINALLY HERE I AM!

Indra

Accidental? Absolutely not.

Indra does not trip. He does not stumble. He does not lose his footing like some common fool. If he ends up against (Y/N)’s chest, pressed against the soft warmth of her body, it is entirely deliberate.

He’s not obvious about it, though. Indra is calculated. If he chooses to fall forward, it’s because he knows he can get away with it.

Maybe they’re sparring, and in a rare moment of distraction, he allows her to take him down. Instead of catching himself as he normally would, his body shifts—his hands land on her waist, his face finds the curve of her chest.

He stays there for a fraction too long. His breath warm against her skin. His fingers twitching at her sides.

And when she tenses—whether in embarrassment, shock, or something deeper—he finally lifts his head, watching her reaction carefully.

A calculated fall

(Y/N) barely had time to react before Indra collapsed into her, the sheer weight of him forcing her backward until she hit the ground with a soft, startled gasp. His body was warm, solid, heavy against hers—too heavy.

It was a mistake. It had to be.

Except when she looked up, his expression told another story.

His chin rested against her collarbone, his breath warm against her neck, but his eyes—dark, sharp, unreadable—lingered on her face with quiet intensity. His hands pressed against her waist, keeping her still, anchoring her beneath him as if he had no intention of moving.

A slow smirk curved at the corner of his lips.

-Strange,- Indra murmured, tilting his head slightly. -I never lose my balance.-

(Y/N)’s pulse stuttered.

-Y-Yeah...

Indra exhaled through his nose—almost a laugh. Then, finally, he lifted himself off her, but not without one last touch—fingers ghosting over her ribs—as if committing her shape to memory.

Accidental? No. Never.

But he would let her pretend.

For now.

Tobirama

Accidental? Yes. Mortifying? Absolutely.

Tobirama is a man of control. Everything he does is measured, precise, intentional. So when he trips, it is not on purpose. It is a horrifying, soul-leaving-his-body moment of failure.

Maybe he’s exhausted after an all-nighter, his movements sluggish when he finally stands—and suddenly, gravity takes hold.

Maybe (Y/N) is moving past him at the worst possible moment, and in his half-dazed state, he collides.

Face first.

The sound of impact is deafening in his own ears.

He freezes. He does not breathe, does not move. Maybe if he stays still, she won’t notice.

A catastrophic misstep

Tobirama had survived wars. He had survived assassination attempts. He had survived Madara Uchiha’s endless aggravation.

But this?

This was going to kill him.

One moment, he had been walking past her, utterly consumed by his thoughts. The next—he had miscalculated. A wrong step, a slight misjudgment, and suddenly, his vision was full of her.

Warmth. Softness. The curve of her chest beneath his face, the scent of her hair filling his senses.

A mistake. A colossal mistake.

(Y/N) made a noise—surprised, breathless, caught off guard—but Tobirama? He was too busy having an existential crisis.

He should move. He needed to move.

But his entire body locked up.

For the first time in his life, his mind had no immediate solution, no perfectly calculated reaction to fix the disaster unfolding.

Slowly—painfully slowly—he lifted his head.

Their eyes met.

(Y/N) blinked at him, lips parted in stunned silence. Heat bloomed across her cheeks.

Tobirama’s soul left his body.

-...I can explain,- he said, voice dangerously close to a cracked whisper.

(Y/N) swallowed. -I’d love to hear it.-

His mouth opened. Nothing came out.

And then, because fate was cruel, his brother’s voice rang out from the other room.

-Tobirama? Where the hell are—

Panic surged. Survival instincts kicked in.

Before (Y/N) could react, he was gone, vanishing into thin air, shunshin the fuck away from there.

Because running away was the only logical solution.

[issysh3ll]

how did Matt first start tracking reader's cycle in Phases?

Ooo good question!

Matt has noticed a change in you lately, but he's not sure what it could be. Originally, he thought he'd done something wrong. Last week you were so snappy and short with him, you said no to everything he suggested and he didn't see your smile even once.

But this week is different again. Now it's less like you're mad and more like you're exhausted. The bags under your eyes are huge and moving seems to be too hard for you. He watches as your phone lights up and you glance at it briefly before diving into your bag and retrieving something and then excusing yourself to the bathroom.

As soon as you’re gone, curiosity wins over and Matt reaches for your bag. Pulling the zip open he finds a collection of small blue and pink plastic wrapped items. He fishes one out and tears the plastic open, a faint blush rising to his cheeks as he realises what he's holding. A tampon.

Suddenly he feels stupid. He should have connected the dots, the mood swings and tiredness make more sense now. He knows you're struggling, but he doesn't know how to help. Whipping out his own phone a quick google search tells him a heat pack and chocolate are the best solutions.

The answer he found is quickly covered by an ad for an app. The pink logo flashes on the screen followed by some words that intrigue him.

Want to understand your partner's cycle? Learn how to help your partner during their period!

Yes. Yes he does want to know these things. Matt clicks on the ad and downloads the app. While he's waiting for it to load he heads to the kitchen, wanting to test the chocolate and heat pack idea he found.

When you return from the toilet, Matt hands you a block of chocolate without saying anything. The smile that lights your face tell him he's done the right thing and he quickly follows it up by tucking the warm heat pad he fetched onto your stomach.

Later that day, Matt reads through the instructions given by his new app and marks today as the first day of your period. Immediately suggestions pop up on the screen of ways he can help to reduce your cramps and help your body. He makes a mental note to try them all out tomorrow.

Phases series -> here Phases asks/requests -> here

[deliciousangelfestival]

Let's Play Pretend - 5 | bodyguard!Bucky

Character: Bucky Barnes x singer! Female reader

Summary: You just wanted to hide here and find peace from the mess that wasn’t caused by you. But then, your hot neighbor bothered you. As if that wasn’t enough, the enemies you hated found you too.

PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3 , PART 4 , PART 5 , PART 6 , PART 7 , -PART 8 , PART 9 , END.

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By the way, I publish my book Arrogant Ex-Husband and Dad, I Can't Let You Go by Alina C. Bing on Kindle.

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

Your hands trembled as you clutched the phone, heart pounding in your chest. The wreckage of your room was still fresh in your mind—the torn pillows, the eerie splatters of red ink, and the knife impaled into your photo. The image burned behind your eyelids, making it impossible to think straight.

Meanwhile, Bucky stood there, completely unfazed. He tilted his head, glancing at the destruction like it was a minor inconvenience.

“Well,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. “You could sleep in my room since yours is trashed like this.”

You shot him an incredulous glare. “Are you serious right now?” Why would he make the offer when you were the one who owned this apartment?

He raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “What? I’m just offering a solution.”

You groaned, rubbing your temples in frustration. There was no way you’d be able to sleep after what just happened. Your room had been violated—someone had broken in, leaving behind a disturbing message, and Bucky was acting like it was no big deal.

Pissed, you pulled out your phone and called Mrs. Walls.

The moment she answered, her warm voice came through the speaker. “My dear, how are you? Have you gotten back from the funeral?”

“Yeah…” Your voice came out weaker than you intended.

Mrs. Walls instantly picked up on it. “Dear, what’s wrong?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “An intruder broke into my place and completely wrecked my bedroom.”

There was silence for a second before she gasped. “Oh no! Are you okay? Is Bucky there with you?”

“I’m fine,” you muttered, throwing a glare at the man in question. “I was already scared, but with Bucky here, I’m getting more stressed.”

“What? Give the phone to him. I’ll have a talk with that boy.”

A slow, devious grin stretched across your face as you turned to Bucky. He must have noticed because his expression immediately fell.

“What?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

You held out the phone. “Mrs. Walls wants to talk to you.”

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, snatching the phone from your hand before walking out of the bedroom.

You watched him leave, shaking your head. Finally, some justice.

But as you turned away, you accidentally overheard his conversation.

"I wasn’t being mean to her. I’m just… that’s just the way I am," he muttered.

A pause. Then he added, "I didn’t stab anyone. Yet. So that means I’m in a good mood."

Your stomach dropped.

Well, that was fucked up.

That was a clear sign for you to stop eavesdropping. Swallowing hard, you quickly stepped back and shut the door.

But Bucky must have noticed because he suddenly peeked through the gap, his sharp blue eyes scanning to see if you were still listening. Satisfied, he leaned against the hallway wall, sighing.

Mrs. Walls spoke again, her voice softer now. “I know this is new to you—having someone close to you. After everything you’ve been through.”

Bucky scoffed. “Nah… don’t start with the trauma and nightmare talk. I’m over it.”

“Then be nice to Y/N. She has a lot on her plate right now.”

“Still not enough to justify anything,” he countered. “Everyone’s got their own shit to deal with.”

Mrs. Walls sighed. “Bucky. Her boss paid and hired you.”

Bucky clicked his tongue. ‘Oh, right. Thanks for reminding me that I’m a corporate slave now.’ He wanted to say it, but out of respect for Mrs. Walls, he kept it to himself.

All his life, he never once imagined himself working for a company. He was a freelance kind of guy—the type to take one job that could last for years. That was the kind of work he was used to. Stability, contracts, daily meetings? That wasn’t him.

But the last job he took? It ruined him.

Literally.

What was supposed to be a routine mission turned into a nightmare. He was captured, and held as a prisoner in some godforsaken place where daylight never reached. Tortured, starved, kept in chains for what felt like an eternity. They broke his body first, then his mind.

Until he got rescued.

He was pulled out of that hell, but the damage had already been done. Therapy was supposed to fix him. Medication, counseling, endless reassurance that he was safe now. But safety was a foreign concept. His mind refused to rest. The walls of his room felt like a cage, his own thoughts like a second prison.

He started losing himself.

It began slowly—paranoia, restless nights, shadows moving where they shouldn’t. Then it worsened. The nightmares bled into reality. His grip on time and space wavered. He was classified as a threat, his name written down in reports, whispered about in hushed voices.

Then, one night, something snapped.

He got up. He walked out of the psychiatric ward, out of the facility meant to "help" him, and just kept walking. No destination. No plan. His feet carried him forward, his mind drifting somewhere between past and present.

He didn’t know how long he walked. But when he finally stopped, he was standing in his hometown.

That night, he stood in front of his old school building, staring up at the dark windows, trying to remember what it felt like to be young—before all of this. Before everything.

And that was when he saw her.

Mrs. Walls.

The only teacher who ever cared.

She had noticed him back then—noticed what others didn’t. How he struggled, how he lacked what other kids had. She was the only one who helped him, who saw through him.

That night, without hesitation, she took him in.

He decided to stay, bought a house near hers, and let himself rest for the first time in years. Mrs. Walls became the mother—no, the grandmother—he never had. Thanks to parents he never even met, he never knew what it was like to have family. But she gave him something close enough.

Then one day, you appeared.

He first saw you through his window—standing in the rain in front of Mrs. Walls' house. Pacing. Walking back and forth, hesitating, like a lost puppy unsure if it should knock or run away.

You were drenched, completely unaware of the storm raging around you.

He narrowed his eyes, studying you.

Mrs. Walls wouldn’t have noticed you. Not with the heavy rain drowning out everything. So, he picked up his phone and called her.

She answered on the first ring. “Yes, Bucky? Is there anything you need? Are you hungry?”

He huffed a quiet laugh. “I’m still full from the lasagna you gave me. Someone is standing in front of your door. Looks like she really wants to see you.”

Mrs. Walls went silent for a beat, then hurriedly ended the call.

He watched from his window as she opened the door. You hesitated for a split second before spinning around—and then, without warning, you hugged her.

He tensed.

That was… unexpected.

Mrs. Walls pulled you inside, closing the door behind her.

Later that night, she mentioned you. “I have a guest,” she said. “An old student of mine.”

He barely reacted until she added, “She’s almost like you.”

That made him pause.

Really?

The curiosity nagged at him. He wanted to meet you, but you were like a vampire—only appearing at night, avoiding people, keeping to yourself. It wasn’t until much later that you finally crossed paths.

And when you did, he couldn’t help himself.

Teasing you became a game.

There was something about the way you reacted, the little glares, the irritated sighs, the way you tried so hard to ignore him. It made him smirk. It made him push just a little more.

“Stop teasing her, Bucky,” Mrs. Walls scolded, shaking her head.

He lifted his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ll be civilized.”

“Thank you,” she said, exasperated. “And stop fighting, you two.” Then she ended the call.

After ending the call with Mrs. Walls, Bucky turned toward you. He held out your phone, and you took it from him, fingers brushing against his for a fleeting second. His touch was ice-cold. Or maybe your hands were just clammy from the stress.

“We should call the police,” he said, his voice low but firm.

“No.”

His brows lifted slightly. “No?”

You swallowed hard, gripping your phone tighter. “If there’s another headline about me, my career will be over.” The words came out rushed, strained—like you were barely holding it together. Your pulse pounded in your ears. You could already see it: your name splashed across tabloids, whispers behind your back, reporters picking apart every detail of your life.

Bucky scoffed, crossing his arms. “So that’s the price of fame, huh? Silence over safety?”

You shot him a glare. “I don’t expect you to understand.”

“You should tell your boss,” he said after a pause.

“Mr. Vert?”

“Yup.”

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

You sat across from Mr. Vert in his sleek, modern office, the city skyline stretching out behind him through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Bucky lounged in the chair beside you, one ankle resting on his knee, looking thoroughly unimpressed.

After taking a deep breath, you told Mr. Vert everything—the break-in, the destruction in your bedroom, the eerie message left behind. As you spoke, the CEO listened, his expression unreadable.

When you finished, Mr. Vert leaned back in his chair, exhaling through his nose. "It's a good thing you came to me first."

A small wave of relief washed over you.

Then his gaze slid to Bucky, lips curling into something sharp. "Seems like he's doing a fantastic job." His voice dripped with sarcasm. "What a top-tier bodyguard. Truly, I'm impressed."

Bucky smirked, unfazed. "I aim to please." He stretched, placing his hands behind his head. "Though, correct me if I'm wrong, isn’t it your job to ensure your people are safe? Maybe put some security measures in place instead of relying on a guy you barely tolerate?"

Mr. Vert’s eyes narrowed. "You're being paid, aren't you?"

Bucky shrugged. "Yeah, but if you want premium service, I charge extra."

"Your basic service already seems half-assed," Mr. Vert shot back.

"You get what you pay for."

"You're expensive."

"And yet here I am."

You let out a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose as their bickering escalated. Their energy—practically identical—made your head throb. Watching them argue felt like watching two alpha wolves circling each other, all sharp words and subtle challenges.

"Enough," you finally said, rubbing your temples. Listening to them argue was like hearing two versions of Bucky in the same room—sharp-tongued, relentless, and entirely too sure of themselves.

Mr. Vert barely reacted. He leaned forward, lacing his fingers together as he rested his elbows on the desk. "Starting tomorrow, you're back to work."

You blinked. "Tomorrow?"

"You still have a contract," he reminded you, his tone calm but firm.

You had agreed to keep working, but you hadn't realized it would be this soon. The news settled heavily in your chest, pressing down like a weight you hadn't been prepared to carry just yet.

Bucky let out a sharp laugh, shaking his head. "Wow. No hesitation. You really don’t care about her mental health, do you?"

You stiffened. Mental health? No one had ever brought that up before—not your old manager, not your colleagues, and certainly not Mr. Vert. It was always about keeping up appearances, meeting expectations, pushing forward no matter what. But Bucky... Bucky was pissed on your behalf.

Mr. Vert smirked, unbothered. "I care about keeping her career intact."

"Yeah? And keeping her alive? That part just an afterthought?" Bucky shot back, his voice laced with mockery, but beneath it, something sharper—real concern.

And that's why I paid you. Agreed to that insane price. To be her bodyguard and her fake boyfriend," Mr. Vert said smoothly.

Bucky opened his mouth, ready to fire back, but before he could, the office door swung open.

A woman stepped inside, her heels clicking against the polished floor. Selena.

You recognized her instantly, though she looked different from the last time you saw her—especially at the funeral. Gone was the quiet, grieving assistant in a modest black dress. Now, she looked every bit the career woman, dressed sharply in a fitted blazer and pencil skirt, her hair sleek, her makeup subtle but precise. Confidence radiated from her as she approached.

She offered a polite smile as she stepped closer. “I’m sorry to interrupt,” she said, her voice smooth and professional. She turned to Mr. Vert. “You wanted to see me?”

Mr. Vert nodded, then shifted his attention to you. “She’ll be your new manager. She worked closely with your former manager, so I believe she’ll be the perfect replacement.”

You hesitated, unsure how to respond. It wasn’t that you doubted her capabilities—Selena had been around long enough to know your schedule inside and out—but the change felt abrupt, almost too sudden to process.

Noticing your hesitation, she extended a hand, her expression reassuring. “Don’t worry. With me, I’ll make sure you won’t be overwhelmed by the schedule.”

You shook her hand, the grip firm and confident. “Thank you,” you said, though the words felt automatic.

From the side, Bucky let out a low scoff. Arms crossed, he leaned against the wall, watching the exchange with barely concealed amusement. “I smell fake,” he muttered under his breath. “And it stinks.”

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[lyn31]

Zayne Immediate Disorder (Extended)

Summary:

After the Prison Warden, Zayne, of Linkon City help you get away from the prison, yes indeed, what a mess. You thought he'll do the same not long after you get out, oh but how wrong you are... He has different plans in mind.

Ao3 link

Extra/Part 2

CW: Drug use (Frenzy Enhancer), Light dom/sub.

Notes:

Disclaimer: The first half on this fics are mainly from Zayne's new card, Immediate Disorder, which another reason why it's so long.... and I also use some of the line here and there to match the "canon" a bit more but the rest are all mine :) So if you don't want to get spoiler, even when it's not all here, better read his story first, but if you don't mind, go ahead and enjoy! And I would like to thank all my friend for helping me with feedback, I appreciate it very much! :D Shout out to @ccelestara You help me a lot girl!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Your flight is delayed until this evening. Thanks to the delay, you receive a call from your ex-subordinate. It’s about the Warden.

All of Linkon is in an uproar because of it.

The Warden, Zayne, is the SSS-Class Praedator, Galen—the serial killer authorities have been pursuing for years.

As the perpetrator was responsible for multiple deaths, Zayne’s trial will take place with all of Linkon watching. A new era is on the horizon, and his execution will mark its beginning.

Why would a serial killer, whom they couldn’t catch for five years, only be exposed now? Unless… You pause, lost in thought.

You take a sharp breath, suddenly struck by a realization you don’t like. Inhaling deeply, you leave your home, slamming the door behind you with more force than intended. Your pace quickens until you break into a run.

You need to see Zayne one last time. You need to hear the truth from him. You need to know—can he truly end everything without regret?

And then without you realizing it, you arrive.

Though no longer an enforcer, flashing your old badge is enough to get you past the unsuspecting guards. You navigate the prison’s corridors along a path you’ve walked countless times before. You make your way to the second floor.

Zayne has shut himself away in the interrogation room—the very same room where the two of you once said your goodbyes.

You push the door open, and there he is—the familiar figure you haven’t seen in a long time.

Hearing you enter, he turns around. His hazel eyes widen for a brief second before settling back into their usual calm gaze.

“I recall you saying you’d be on a plane this morning.”

Holding back a snort, you say, “So you deliberately waited until this evening to release the news. That way, I wouldn’t find out?”

“Your presence here means my plan has failed.”

“Your plan?” Your throat tightens. Your fists clench so tightly that they start to hurt.

“You never intended to survive this. You’ve been planning to end it all… including yourself.”

Looking at you quietly, he says. “Every TV channel, newspaper, and radio station are announcing it. A new era will arrive with the next dawn. Linkon is finally on the right path. The murders and crimes of the past must be erased.”

Zayne shifts his gaze to the side before looking back at you.

“I thought you, as an enforcer, would understand that criminals must be punished for their past deeds.”

Your chest tightens for a brief moment before you speak, your voice steady but weighed down. “The criminal has been punished. The Praedators and ordinary people get to live in peace. Linkon City will enter a new era. But what about you?”

Without waiting for his answer, you take a step closer.

“Zayne, have you gained anything from this?”

Another step. Your fists clench tighter, your breathing grows unsteady. The faint space between you disappears, and your shadow bleeds into his.

“Don’t you want anything in this life? Stop talking about Linkon, the virus, and the solution. I want to know about you, Zayne. Have you ever wanted anything for yourself?”

You release a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

Zayne watches you for a moment. His voice lowers. “Are you here just to ask me that question?”

You take another step. Now, you’re so close you can practically feel his breath on your skin.

“What if I said yes? Would you answer me then?”

Just as you reach for him, he flinches. A groan escapes him, and his brows furrow.

“You should go,” he says breathlessly, avoiding your gaze.

“No, I won’t leave until you answer me. But Zayne… are you?”

You reach out again, this time feeling the heat of his skin before he pulls away.

He’s about to go into a frenzy.

“I told you, you should go.” Zayne’s breathing grows ragged. His chest rises and falls rapidly, rattling the chains around his clothes.

“No. I refuse.” You turn toward the door and lock it.

Walking back to him, you scan the room. The interrogation tools from your last visit are still here—including the muzzles and chains.

“They say that when a Praedator goes into a frenzy, the desire to have what they truly want overwhelms them.”

Stepping closer, you ask, “Zayne, have you ever gone into a frenzy before?”

“No.”

He starts to take a step back but stops, steadying his breath. He looks at you. “I know how to control myself.”

“You implanted an activator in yourself, didn’t you?”

At this, his brows furrow slightly—his frustration breaking through his usual stoic expression.

“But that doesn’t mean a Praedator like me won’t harm the person standing in front of them.”

“I won’t become a Praedator.”

“You’ll die.”

“You already ‘killed’ me once before.” The corner of your mouth curls up. “You accused me of trying to assassinate the Warden. I never got the chance to see if I actually could.”

As you speak, you grab a chain from the wall.

"Do you always have to restrain yourself?" You wrap the chain around his wrist.

He scoffs. "Is that what you want me to do?"

"No. At least, that's not what I want right now."

Zayne point out with his gaze at the muzzle on the wall. You take the muzzle and carefully secure it around Zayne’s head. He doesn’t resist.

You hesitate for a moment, watching him. He allows you to restrain him without a fight. A strange feeling settles in your chest—confusion, concern. Why is he letting this happen? That’s what you instinctively think, but you know the answer already.

Then without a word, Zayne grabs another chain and hands it to you. His gaze sharpens, and his breathing grows ragged.

Fastening the chain around his wrist, you hear his low, breathless voice. "If you’re trying to break someone’s chains… don’t be afraid of the danger they’ll bring." Even in this situation, you can still hear his teasing tone.

Trailing your finger from his wrist to his chest, you push him back toward the interrogation chair.

"Wasn’t I supposed to die here anyway?" You smirk hearing your own question.

Near the chair, on a small table, something shiny catches your eye, reflecting the faint light that manages to seep into the closed-off interrogation room. You head toward the table and just miss when Zayne tries to grab you. You push him back down before continuing toward the table.

"You should leave while you still can," He warns, his voice low and more breathless than before.

You pick up the syringe filled with orange liquid from the table—the Frenzy Enhancer and you walk back toward the chair. Zayne’s intense gaze follows your every move.

"You’re only going to hurt yourself more by fighting to stay in control, you know."

Slowly, you place a hand on his shoulder. He shudders under your touch as you trace your fingers from the leather strap on his shoulder to the choker around his neck. Then, with a swift motion, you grab his jaw, forcing his head back to expose more of his neck.

He groans, his eyes flicking to the syringe in your hand.

"…Frenzy Enhancer? You’re going to use that on me?" He scoffs, but you can hear the amusement in his voice, laced with something unreadable.

"Yes. The Warden should be well aware of how it affects the Praedators."

The corner of his lips curls up. He doesn’t even bother hiding his amusement now. His gaze dares you, challenges you.

Without hesitation, you sink the needle into his heated skin, injecting the drug. He groans, and his breathing quickens even more than before. His skin burns even hotter beneath your fingers.

As you step back to give him some breathing room, you say, "Stop holding yourself back. You need to confront your true self."

His breathing grows heavier, each inhale pressing harder against the leather strap bound across his chest. The belt creaks under the pressure, groaning, straining to contain something unstoppable.

His muscles flex, his body straining against the restraint. His breath turns into low, guttural sounds, his entire frame trembling with suppressed force.

Then—a sharp snap.

The leather gives way, splitting apart as his chest heaves forward. The torn strap dangles uselessly at his sides, his breath ragged and uneven. His gaze lifts to you—dark, unrestrained, filled with something dangerous.

Involuntarily, you swallow hard. Slowly, you walk to his other side. His eyes follow your every move, scanning you like a predator sizing up his prey. His gaze sweeps over you—sharp, deliberate, assessing every detail. You meet his eyes, and in that moment, you know.

Taking a bold step directly in front of him, you place your hand on his thigh and kneel right in front of him, your fingers tightening just slightly as you quickly spread his legs apart. His breath hitches, a low gasp slipping past his lips, his chest heaving harder.

"Don’t worry…" you say, your voice calm yet full of intent, "I’ll take good care of you."

His eyes darken, his smirk widening, full of danger and amusement.

"You want me to submit…"

Before you can move, you hear the chains rattle; the sound growing louder as his hand shoots out, gripping your waist and pulling you onto his lap. The sudden shift in position takes you by surprise, and you gasp, your breath hitching in your throat. His lips brush against your ear, his voice low and dangerous. "Let me take what I desire first."

The air shifts—sudden, electric. Then his lips crash into yours with fierce urgency, stealing any coherent thought you might’ve had. You freeze for a split second, your heart hammering in your chest as his breath mingles with yours. The heat from his body sears through the thin fabric between you, making you shiver. His fingers dig into your sides, possessive and firm, as he deepens the kiss, pressing you against him with a force that leaves no space between you.

A soft moan escapes you before you can stop it, and it seems to only spur him on. His teeth graze your bottom lip, the sting making your body react before your mind has time to process. The pull of his kiss shifts from desperate to coaxing, urging you to match his intensity. You reach up, your hand slipping into his hair, fingers tangling in the strands, pulling him closer, desperate for more. The urgency inside you flares, a sharp need that only grows as he deepens the kiss. You’re not sure where he ends and you begin—every nerve in your body is alive, and it's all him.

His other hand tangles in your hair, tugging lightly, sending a different bolt of electricity straight down your spine, and you can feel your whole body arch into him, your chest tight with anticipation. Every touch, every pull seems to unlock something inside you, the heat pooling in your stomach, burning, aching for more. You don’t want to stop, don’t want to pull away.

The kiss is messy and consuming, like he’s starved for it, and you feel that hunger mirroring your own. His tongue sweeps past your lips, claiming everything he wants, but it's not just him—you're just as lost, just as hungry for him. Every breath you take is laced with desire, every beat of your heart screaming for more, and yet, you’re caught in a whirlwind of want, unable to think, unable to pull away.

When he pulls back, his lips hover close, and you can see a wildness in his eyes, filled with raw desire. His voice is barely a whisper, but carries an edge that sends a shiver down your spine. "You should’ve known... submission can be dangerous."

Your pulse is still racing, your breath uneven, and your body tingles with the lingering heat of his touch. You place your hand on his bare chest, feeling the rapid rise and fall beneath your palm, matching the frantic beat of your heart. The raw intensity of his gaze makes your insides tighten with anticipation, a strange mix of fear and longing that twists deep inside you. Then, instinctively, your hand slides up his forearm, fingers grazing the firm muscle, needing to ground yourself.

“Where’s your Activator?” you ask, your voice a little breathless. You try to steady yourself, but it betrays the rush of desire coursing through you.

The moment the words leave your mouth, you catch the glimmer of a smirk that tugs at the corner of his lips, a knowing, teasing expression that sends a jolt through your chest. With a ragged breath, he leans in closer, and before you can react, he grabs your wrist, guiding your hand back to his chest, pressing it against him with an urgency that makes your heart race even faster.

“Why don’t you… touch me and find out?” he murmurs, the words carrying an invitation—and a challenge—that makes everything inside you tighten in hunger. The electricity between you crackles yet again as if he knows just how much you’re aching for him, how much you want to feel him under your fingertips.

Without missing a beat, you move your hand, slowly at first, tracing the curve of his collarbone, your fingers grazing his skin as you feel him tense under your touch. The air between you thickens with the tension. You follow the path down his chest, lingering on his abs as a soft groan escapes him, the sound igniting a pulse of heat between your legs. You catch his gaze, locking onto it, and the rawness of his desire fuels the embers of your own. Your pulse races, your body aching to feel more of him, but you hold the moment—enjoying the power of teasing him just as much as he teases you.

He breathes out in frustration, his voice a low rasp. “You’re teasing me… It’s still not enough…”

So you don’t stop. Your hand keeps moving, creeping below his waistband, your fingers brushing ever so lightly against the growing heat beneath his pants. His breath catches, and your lips curl into a soft, teasing smile. As you raise an eyebrow, you sense the tension shift in him, but he doesn’t back down. Instead, he tilts his head slightly, a silent challenge in his eyes, before leaning in, his lips brushing your ear as his breath sends a shiver through you.

You let out a shaky breath, closing your eyes as his kisses trail down your jaw, down your neck—his lips warm against your skin. Every touch, every kiss from him yet again sends that jolts of electricity that you start to familiar with yet still very exhilarating, making you want him even more. And yet, when your hand continues its descent, feeling the evidence of his desire, growing more demanding beneath your touch, you know he feels the same way as you.

A low groan escapes him when his lips move to your earlobe, nipping it just enough to make your body tremble. You almost lose your focus, distracted by the sensation, but your hand keeps moving. Your fingers graze lower, slowly, but with purpose, pressing against him just enough to make him gasp.

His hand grabs your chin, tilting it upward, and his lips hover over yours for a brief, teasing moment before he nibbles your bottom lip. He pulls back slightly, and his gaze darkens with amusement. “What will you do next?”

Oh you know what you'll do next. With a quick, decisive motion, you push him back, watching the way he almost falls against the chair's backrest. The glint in his eyes tells you he enjoys the challenge just as much as you do, and you feel a surge of excitement at the thought of making him wait.

Your hand moves swiftly from his chest to his waist, fingers finding the firmness of him between his legs. The sudden contact makes him shudder, and you smile as his eyes glaze over, fixating on your chest. Before he can lean in, you push him back again, your other hand placed firmly on his chest, eyes locking with his, silently telling him to wait for his turn.

The moment you break eye contact, a rush of heat floods through your body. No matter how hard you try to play it cool, it’s impossible to ignore the fact that you’re perched on his lap. The heat between your legs only grows hotter, and you have to fight the urge to grind against him. You try to regain control—at least to mask your reaction—locking your gaze with his once more. His want is undeniable, simmering in the charged air between you, and the thrill of holding onto even a sliver of control sends a surge of adrenaline through your veins.

You keep your hand on his chest, fingers brushing over his skin, sending small shocks of electricity through him. You don’t break eye contact. Every small movement, every slight press of your hand on his chest makes the tension grow thick and suffocating, but you relish in it—holding him at bay just a little longer. You feel the control shift, your power growing with each moment you keep him waiting.

Focusing back on the task at hand, you press your palm against him, feeling the heat radiating through his clothes. Slowly, you begin to move your hand, applying enough pressure to tease, but not enough to satisfy. His breathing sharpens, chest rising and falling beneath your touch as he tries to keep his composure.

“Do you like that, Zayne?” you whisper, glancing up at him. His response is a ragged exhale, his knuckles turning white as his grip tightens on the armrest.

You keep the slow rhythm, dragging your hand up and down, making him twitch under your touch with every stroke. Each pass, each movement makes him shudder, even so, you hold back, savoring the power of the moment.

You pull your hand back, the sudden absence making Zayne’s gaze snap to you, his eyes burning with need. You feel the tension in the air shift yet again, but you don’t give him the release he craves. Instead, you grab his choker, tugging him closer. His eyes widen slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. For a brief moment, your gazes lock, tension crackling between you like a live wire. His jaw tightens, and his fingers flex as he tilts his head, silently inviting you to continue.

“You want to break it, don’t you?” Zayne’s voice is breathless, a dare in every word. The challenge hangs between you, a crackling tension that sets every nerve in your body alight with excitement.

You push him back with deliberate force, watching as he leans fully into the chair. The satisfaction of making him wait, of holding the control, sends a rush of heat through you. The choker snaps free in your hand, and you stare at it for a beat, your heart pounding as the moment stretches out. Without a word, you toss it aside. The silence between you deepens, thick and charged with raw tension.

“Patience,” you murmur, your voice low and commanding, each syllable deliberate. Your fingers work the muzzle loose, and as it falls away, he just stares at you—breath ragged, eyes wild with hunger. A mix of nerves and excitement coils in your stomach, sharper than you expected. Even though it’s an open muzzle, seeing him without it now sends a thrill through you.

A slow smirk curves your lips. “Much better.”

He exhales a shaky breath, a grin tugging at his lips. “Impressive,” he says, his voice rough with both admiration and something darker.

“But it’s my turn,” he grunts, the words thick with intent. His grip tightens as he surges forward, claiming the moment with a desperate intensity that steals the air from your lungs.

Before you can react, Zayne’s lips are on yours again, urgent, but this kiss is slower, deliberate—a demand as much as a plea. His lips trail down your jaw, your neck, the curve of your collarbone, every touch igniting a new wave of heat inside you. His tongue flicks against your skin, teasing and tasting, before his teeth follow, nipping just hard enough to make you gasp, your body instinctively arching into him as your hips grind against his thigh in reflex, finally. A low grunt rumbles in his chest, his grip tightening on your waist, urging you to do it again. Heat floods through you, a shuddering breath escaping as the friction sends a fresh wave of pleasure coursing through you.

His hand finds your wrists, yanking them behind your back with swift ease, and you gasp at the sudden restraint. The vulnerability of it, the way he controls you without hesitation, sends a sharp thrill racing down your spine. His grip tightens, holding both your wrists effortlessly with one hand, while his other settles firmly on your waist, fingers digging into your skin as he keeps you locked in place.

His eyes lock onto yours, dark and commanding, as he urges your hips to move again, guiding you with slow, deliberate pressure. "Just like that," he breathes, his voice thick with desire. A shiver courses through you, each roll of your hips sending a rush of heat that leaves you breathless, your body tightening in response to his touch.

Zayne’s mouth is relentless, teasing you with soft, lingering kisses just above your exposed skin, his tongue flicking over the fabric of your shirt, tracing slow, deliberate circles. You shudder, your body reacting, but he refuses to give you what you want. His grip on your wrist behind your back remains firm, the restraint heightening every sensation, making your pulse race even faster. Every near-miss, every brush against your skin makes your body ache with want—his refusal only fuels your desire, making you want to push back against him, to make him feel the same urgency you do.

Then, at last, his lips close around your hardened peak, sucking gently at first, then harder. His teeth graze you, sending a sharp pulse of pleasure straight to your core. You cry out softly, your body trembling in his lap, your wrists straining against his grip, the rawness of the moment pushing you closer to the edge.

Your soft cry draws a ragged groan from Zayne, his breath unsteady, his grip tightening as he struggles to maintain control. But it’s slipping—you feel it in the tremble of his hand on your wrist, in the roughness of his kisses, in the ferocity of his desire.

And then, as if he can’t hold back any longer, Zayne snaps. The hand on your waist jerks away, his fingers wrapping around the chain on his wrist with a brutal tug. The metal gives way with a harsh, violent snap, fragments scattering beside you, the sound almost deafening. His hand is back on you instantly, roaming over your waist with an urgent, almost frantic need that sends a shiver through your entire body. Everything shifts. His control is shattered, his restraint gone, and in that instant, all that’s left is the hunger that burns between you.

His gaze burns into you, intense and untamed, his breath uneven as he draws you between his legs. One hand tangles in your hair, yanking you closer, while the other seizes your waist, guiding you down to the floor with a force that leaves no room for resistance. The raw urgency in his movements, the primal need that drives him now, sends a thrill of excitement coursing through you. Even in the moment's chaos, there’s a flicker of control—just enough to ensure you’re steady beneath him, but it’s the kind of control that makes your pulse race, knowing he’s ready to push you past any limits.

His voice drops, low and thick with heat, as his eyes lock onto yours. “Now, there’s only one thing left to do.” His voice is ragged, barely restrained, each word tumbling out like a need he can no longer contain, sending a shiver straight through you. His gaze never wavers, his intensity pressing down on you like a weight, leaving you breathless and craving what comes next.

For a moment, you do nothing but stare back at him, breath catching in your throat as you feel the weight of his gaze. It’s a challenge, a silent command—and you can feel your body respond to it, every nerve alive with anticipation.

You swallow hard, your eyes dropping to his waist. “So that’s where the Activator is…” you murmur, the words are soft but thick with meaning. Zayne follows your gaze, then drags his eyes back up to your face, to your body, his gaze darkening as he notices the hardened peak beneath your shirt.

Without hesitation, he leans down, capturing it with his mouth. His tongue twirls around you, his lips warm and demanding, making you gasp at the sensation. Your body writhes beneath him, your heart pounding in time with the pulse of need that rises in you.

But you don’t forget what you’re about to do. Your pulse quickens as you shift your knee, pressing just above his waist, feeling the twitch of his body against yours. His breath hitches, muscles flexing beneath your touch, and despite the flutter of nerves in your chest, you smile at his reaction, fully aware of the effect you’re having on him. The tension thickens, the unspoken challenge between you both only growing stronger.

You let your foot graze lower, brushing against his arousal in a teasing move that has him groaning, his grip on you tightening just a fraction as he fights to keep control. The moment his eyes snap open, wild and raw, you know it’s only a matter of time before both of you lose yourselves completely in the overwhelming tension between you.

His breath catches, a deep grunt rumbling from his chest, and his eyes flash with an intensity that makes your body ache with need. “Become my prisoner… or my master,” he says, voice low and deliberate. Each word tastes of a challenge, an invitation—and you feel every ounce of it.

The wicked smile that curls on your lips matches his as you reach up, wrapping your hand around his neck, and pulling him closer. The heat of his breath against your skin sends a shiver through you, and the connection between you becomes even more undeniable, more electric.

“You can never… leave me,” he murmurs, his voice rough and unsteady as his lips brush over yours.

The kiss starts slow, but it doesn’t stay that way for long. The pressure between you—too much, too overwhelming after everything that’s led to this moment—pushes you both into something more. The kiss deepens, urgent and desperate, a clash of lips and tongues as you both crave the release that’s been building.

His hands tighten on your waist, pulling you closer, his body molding to yours as your mouths crash together again and again, hungry for more. Your hips instinctively grind against him, a steady rhythm driven by raw need, and the weight of his body above you only fuels the urgency. The heat, the tension, the desire—every inch of him presses you against the floor, every movement igniting a fire that spreads through your body.

Zayne’s fingers trail down your spine, gripping your hips harder, holding you in place as he pushes you into him with more force, guiding your grinding motion with growing urgency. You can feel the heat radiating between you, the pulse of desire making every second more intense than the last, every touch heightening the ache that has taken over you both.

Breathless, Zayne breaks the kiss, his forehead resting against yours for a moment. His chest rises and falls heavily, his eyes dark with hunger. His hands move lower, gripping your thighs, guiding you—slow but sure—as his lips find yours again in a kiss that’s fierce and insistent.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Winter returns once more.

As you watch the light snow falling outside your window, it dawns on you: another year has passed since you and Zayne last parted ways in that interrogation room.

In the aftermath of that day, you walked away alone. The bitter truth that you couldn’t take him with you… You’d known that all along.

Even when he confessed that you were what he wanted, it wouldn’t have stopped him. Zayne has always been this way. Deep down, you’ve known it from the start.

After moving to this small town, you severed almost all ties with Linkon City. You made a conscious effort to avoid any news about him. You convinced yourself that if you didn’t see anything about him, you wouldn’t think about him anymore.

Then this morning, someone mentioned that a new doctor had opened a small clinic called Akso just a few blocks away. The moment you hear the clinic's name, your thoughts immediately go to a certain vet clinic with the same name—and a familiar doctor who became the prison’s warden. The person you’ve been trying to forget for a year. Zayne.

So, of course, you rush home, snatch your pet turtle from its cozy sunbathing spot, and dash off to Akso.

Arriving at the clinic, you push open the door, breathless from your frantic run. After a year apart, the silhouette you’ve yearned for stands right before you.

He turns to you with his usual calm demeanor. “What is it?” he asks, though the corner of his mouth twitches ever so slightly.

Without a second thought, you place your pet turtle on the nearest table and rush toward him, wrapping your arms around him in a crushing hug. Then you pull back just enough to crash your lips against his. Before he can even react, you pull away again, eyes wide, your cheeks burning.

He chuckles softly, his eyes glinting with amusement.

Avoiding his gaze, you scoop up your pet turtle and cough lightly. “Dr. Zayne, I think my pet turtle might be sick. It’s been really lethargic. It doesn’t even want to sunbathe anymore. Can you take a look at it?”

Trying to hide your embarrassment—and your excitement—you straighten your posture and meet his eyes. His amusement is obvious. He’s trying not to laugh.

“Miss, this clinic only treats human patients,” he says, his smirk growing wider.

Your face burns up again. You bite your lower lip and close your eyes, mortified...

That’s when you hear his footsteps approach. You open your eyes to find him standing right in front of you, gently taking your hand in his.

Then, something rare—a smile curves on his lips, soft and unguarded. It’s fleeting but real, and you can’t help but mirror it. Your heart skips, and for a second, the tension feels lighter, almost electric. You suppose he’s just as excited as you.

You clear your throat, trying to regain a bit of control. “...I see” His smile grows, contagious and impossible to ignore.

“Well,” you say, this time with more confidence, “I think I’m coming down with something. Would you mind giving me a check-up?”

He holds your gaze, bringing your hand to his lips. “I don’t think this is how I’m supposed to treat my patients.” His voice drops slightly, warm and low, the flicker of desire in his eyes unmistakable.

He steps closer, his breath warm against your ear. “But for you… I might make an exception.”

Your heart races as he pulls back, his smirk sharp and teasing. He releases your hand, turning toward the hallway.

“Follow me, Miss,” he says, the slightest smirk playing at his lips.

As you follow him, your pulse quickening, you realize this is the treatment you’ve been waiting for—especially with Dr. Zayne.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Notes:

Pstttt there's another extended of the extended version! here And another card's fic over there! Zayne - Fragrant Possession Celebration (Smut)

[ririright]

husband!hayhayyy during an argument???

The Build-Up

Hayden rarely raises his voice, but when he’s upset, his tone becomes quiet, his words more measured. He crosses his arms, his brows drawn together.

But for serious arguments, he avoids eye contact at first, his voice dropping to a low, tense murmur. “I don’t want to fight with you.”

He’ll run his fingers through his hair when he’s frustrated, pacing the room, his natural calm cracking just slightly.

He Can’t Stand the Silent Treatment

If you give him the silent treatment, it eats at him. He’ll hover nearby, trying to catch your gaze, clearing his throat to get your attention.

He’ll try to be subtle at first, asking if you want a snack or need anything. If you’re still quiet, he gets a little desperate.

“Please say something. Anything. You can even yell at me. I’ll take it.”

Apologizing First

If he knows he’s wrong, he’ll apologize without hesitation, his voice soft and his gaze sincere. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I never wanted to hurt you.”

He has this habit of reaching out for your hand when he apologizes, his thumb brushing your knuckles as if he’s afraid you’ll pull away.

Even if he thinks he’s right, he still wants to make peace. He’s more about finding a solution than being “the winner.”

The Overthinking Spiral

After an argument, if you walk away, Hayden’s mind races. He’ll sit quietly, staring at the floor, replaying the fight over and over.

“Was I too harsh? Did I say something wrong? Is she okay?”

If you take too long to come back, he’s knocking gently on the door. “Sweetheart… please talk to me.”

Physical Comfort

He’s naturally touchy, so if you’re upset but willing, he’ll reach for you, brushing his thumb over your cheek or gently tucking your hair behind your ear.

If you’re crying, he’s immediately soft, his arms wrapping around you. “I’m here. I’m so sorry.”

He’ll press his forehead against yours, his voice a quiet whisper. “I love you. I don’t want this to hurt us.”

Apology Language

He’s big on heartfelt apologies—no generic “I’m sorry.” He’ll actually explain his side and admit where he was wrong.

“I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I was stressed, but that’s not your fault. Please forgive me.”

He often uses humor to lighten the mood once things start to calm down. “So, are we okay? Or do I have to grovel?”

Apology Treats

If he’s really messed up, you’ll find little treats around the house. Your favorite snacks mysteriously appear on the kitchen counter.

He once tried to bake you cookies as a peace offering. They were… edible. Barely.

He also has a habit of leaving little apology notes—sticky notes on the mirror with “I love you” and a sad, doodled face.

Hugging It Out

When the argument is resolved, he insists on hugging you for a long time. It’s like he’s making sure you’re okay, his arms tight around you.

Sometimes, he’ll nuzzle into your neck and whisper, “Let’s never fight again.”

You both know that’s impossible, but it always makes you smile.

Immediate Affection Overload

After an argument, he becomes extra clingy for the rest of the day, always reaching for your hand, kissing your cheek, or pulling you into his lap on the couch.

If you go to bed still a little upset, he’ll spoon you, his chin resting on your shoulder, whispering “I love you” until you both fall asleep.

Never Letting It Fester

Hayden refuses to go to bed angry. Even if you’re both tired, he’ll sit up with you, talking it out until everything’s okay.

If you end up falling asleep still upset, he’s the first to wake up, making you breakfast and apologizing again.

He never wants you to feel unloved, even for a second.

Those Unspoken Apologies

Sometimes, he doesn’t know how to say it in the moment, so he’ll show his remorse through actions—bringing you your favorite coffee, drawing you a warm bath, or letting you pick the movie.

If you’re the one who was wrong, he doesn’t hold a grudge. The second you apologize, he’s kissing your forehead and whispering, “We’re okay. I promise.”

[xjulixred45x]

Hello and may i ask if its okay to request, if so? Can you do ROR x reader?

Poseidon (romance or yandere) With Reader who's like Amphitrite from the greek Mythology. Maybe like a long drabble/fic, in their 1st meeting?

In Greek mythology, Amphitrite was the goddess of the sea and the wife of Poseidon, the god of the sea. She was also the mother and Queen of sea life like fish, seals, and dolphins. Amphitrite was originally a Nereid, or sea nymph, and the eldest of the 50 Nereids. one of the 50 (or 100) daughters (the Nereids) of Nereus and Doris (the daughter of Oceanus).

Reader known for being "shy" and doesn't like being caught. She's afraid of being married because she's heard stories about how most of gods treat their wives/partners. She's independent and gentle but not a pushover & has a protective/brave side (only to her family and sea life). She prefers a quiet life and is content as long as she is treated well.

In how their 1st meet: (though you can change some of these if you like) When Poseidon was looking for a marriage partner. Poseidon first laid eyes on Amphitrite while she was dancing at low tide with her sisters on the isle of Naxos. He immediately fell in love with her and asked for her hand in marriage. Amphitrite, heard of rumors of him and She's quite fearful of his tempestuous nature, refused his advances everytime they met and she tried to fled from him.

(Thank you in advance)

oh, i absolulty LOVE when the fandom uses Amphitrite as Poseidon s/o, its just scratch my brain just fine.

Poseidón x Amphitrite! Reader

Genre: Headcanons

Reader: female

Warnings: Poseidon can be a warning himself (he is trying, okay?), Reader is scared of him so she runs away, some Angst with comfort.

• Doris and Nereus were known for having a prolific offspring, having in their repertoire very strong sons and beautiful daughters, ocean nymphs known as Nereids. Some had a specific purpose, others simply enjoyed the life they had in the ocean, and very few really did not want to attract attention, given their status and natural beauty.

• However, as with everything, there are exceptions. That was the category that she, Amphitrite, fell into the most.

• Don't get me wrong, Amphitrite loved exploring, messing around with humans, and dancing just as much as any of her sisters, however, she was painfully aware of how complicated it was to be a nymph in the Greek pantheon. If any nymph caught the attention of a god, she ended up either cursed or turned into some animal or plant. There were no happy endings for them out there, not with the gods.

• And even if they could survive to marry a god, there was no guarantee that it would be a happy marriage in the long run, just look at the kind of relationships the gods had with each other. Zeus and Hera, constantly arguing every time a new demi-god appeared on earth. Or Hades and Persephone, who couldn't even spend the whole year together. Who would choose to live through that suffering on purpose?

• Because of that, Amphitrite decided to spend time with her sisters instead of potentially exposing herself to the band of vultures that were the gods of Olympus. Even if the idea of finding someone for herself didn't sound bad (on the contrary, it sounded nice), she wouldn't allow herself to be trapped in a Golden cage.

• Unfortunately (or fortunately, however you want to look at it), she had no idea of the issues that were being discussed on Mount Olympus, specifically, regarding a certain god.

• Poseidon, the tyrant of the seas, seemed more angry and unpredictable every day. Even if Zeus and Hades knew how to prevent things from getting worse, that wouldn't always work, they couldn't keep an eye on him all the time. They had to find a solution to their problem, right now.

• Fortunately, Hades had been studying his little brother's behavior very closely, and he noticed that there was a pattern, he always stopped the storms in a certain area, near the island of Naxos.

• An area which was known, where several of Doris and Nereus' daughters could be seen dancing. It was a kind of custom that they had every time they were on the shores of that city. And it seems that Poseidon was quite interested in that (or, rather, one of Nereus' daughters)

• This could be a golden opportunity to solve the problem, and at the same time, finally get Poseidon a permanent companion, who, somehow, would keep him in line.

• Hades and Zeus discussed it, and decided to put this idea into action. Telling Poseidon that they were going to Naxos to settle a “matter” with Nereus and since it was his domain, they needed him (neither brother missed how Poseidon seemed more interested than usual in a diplomatic interaction)

• They even had the “luck” that when they went to Naxos, there were several of Nereus and Doris’ daughters, as always, dancing on the shores.

• Much to Nereus’ surprise (while Zeus and Hades were rather amused), Poseidon didn’t seem interested in getting involved with whatever his brothers told him, at that moment, he just focused on watching the Nereids. Or, rather, one specific one, Amphitrite.

• Yep, she was, the woman who had caught his brother’s attention, the one who was able to make the feared tyrant of the seas calm for the first time in how many centuries. They knew they had to act now, or they might lose this opportunity. However, Zeus was the one who decided to bring it up with Nereus.

• He briefly explained the situation, that Poseidon could use a partner, and that it would be of great help to them if Nereus would be so kind as to introduce him to his daughters. Obviously Nereus wasn't going to try to argue with the god of the universe, even if he wanted to plead for his daughters, he gave in, afraid of the repercussions.

• A part of Poseidon wanted to strangle Zeus for his stupid ruse, but on the other hand, he played along without much thought, almost as if he was eager to choose the "lucky" nymph who would be his wife.

• Amphitrite saw all this happen before her eyes, a part of her wanted to run away on the spot, but she had the slightest hope, the smallest one, that the god of the seas wouldn't choose her as a partner. But that hope didn't seem very big, not when she could feel the tyrant of the seas staring at her, very intensely, as she walked to her father's side.

• Amphitrite wanted to be calm, she wished she wasn't so scared, after all, he hadn't done anything wrong yet, right? But Poseidon's name alone made even the bravest tremble, it was like a sign that, whatever this god's intentions were, it wouldn't end well for her.

• And that was what she felt, when Poseidon, without hesitation, pointed at her at the moment of choosing between her sisters, she felt her heart sink, how it was difficult for her to breathe air, she had to get out of there, think about it, but she had to be FAR AWAY—

• Before anyone could stop her, Amphitrite jumped into the water at the shore, and swam out to sea at full speed, to everyone's surprise.

• Obviously, Poseidon isn't happy with this. Almost offended by the nymph's behavior, he seems to make the seas even more unstable in his search.

• On one such day, Hades appears to try to appease him, after all, what kind of image will he be giving to his future wife, if his response to an inconvenience is to throw a tantrum?

• Hades tries to make Poseidon see things from Amphitrite's point of view, so that he doesn't scare her so much the next time they meet. When it seems that Poseidon understood enough, Hades gives him another piece of valuable information; Amphitrite's location. Poseidon left in such a big hurry that it didn't even occur to him to reproach his brother for not telling him right away.

• Amphitrite, meanwhile, only dedicated herself to collecting the snails within reach, staying out of sight thanks to some sea rocks. Not really knowing what to do next, only praying that Poseidon would lose interest in her soon so she could return home.

• However, she didn't expect to start receiving company.

• At first, it was just some small sea animals, like crabs and turtles. They approached her as if trying to cheer her up, make her feel better. Then other animals started coming (as the tides rose), like sea horses, fish, etc.

• Amphitrite didn't really know what to do at first, afraid that they would betray her to the gods, but the animals didn't seem to have hostile intentions, on the contrary, they made her forget for a moment why she was there.

• However, Amphitrite wasn't naive. While she was petting a dolphin on the shore, still covered by the rocks of the sea, she decided to ask a question in the air, about whether this was his way of saying he was sorry. No answer.

• Okay, it seems that he is not very talkative (at least they have that in common), time to try another topic.

• Amphitrite complimented the appearance of the dolphin that demanded her attention on her lap, also highlighting his playful attitude. This time there was a response, even if it was brief, about how additionally, they were intelligent.

• They stayed like that for a while, Amphitrite pointing out both the positive and negative aspects of marine animals, it was strange, even knowing who was answering, she no longer felt the same fear as before when being near him. Is he really the same god? The same one who caused storms, earthquakes and tsunamis, was also talking to her about the fauna of his domain? It was something unbelievable.

• Eventually, Amphitrite decided to face the elephant in the room. She asked him if this was his way of convincing her to accept him as a husband, if so, what assured her that she would not be a trophy wife? What assured her that she would not have a miserable existence?

• The other side of the conversation was silent for a moment, when Amphitrite was losing hope, finally the god spoke.

• He told her some things that she had not noticed, things that he noticed when he saw her(several times) in Naxos. How she cared so much about her family, how she liked to collect seashells and shiny things from the shores to make ornaments after dancing, how gentle she was with the creatures. It was something he could never understand, but it brought him peace to see her.

• Amphitrite didn't know what to say, this was something she genuinely didn't expect, not from the tyrant of the seas at least. Maybe, just maybe, she could try this, maybe she could take the chance, maybe things could be okay, with him.

• If we talk about the relationship after these events, it's much better than many think.

• I say this because every time Poseidon says he's married, you can feel a general aura of concern for the woman, which, while very effective in annoying the tyrant of the seas, the only one who can prevent it from turning into carnage is Amphitrite.

• She has a comfortable life, not only because of the aspects of being royalty and ruling one of the three domains of the Greek pantheon alongside her husband, but she is generally enjoying this kind of life.

• Amphitrite and Poseidon have good communication (ironic given how it was their first time meeting), so while Amphitrite has luxuries and comforts, they are also adapted to her tastes.

• Her crown, for example, was made by herself, with a mix of starfish, pearls and shells. Poseidon gave her as a wedding gift a specific area of his palace so she could be with her favorite sea creatures. And, above all, Amphitrite could come and go as she pleased, dancing with her sisters in Naxos, touring the coasts of Greece, etc.

• (I like to think that Amphitrite also enjoys dancing in the palace, sometimes Poseidon just shows up and stares at her in the doorway)

• Poseidon is someone difficult for everyone to read, but Amphitrite is probably the only one who knows what he is thinking (and vice versa), which makes it of UTMOST IMPORTANCE that she attends her brothers' events with him (neither of them wants to go, but there is no option. They either leave early or make an excuse together to stay with the sea animals).

• Fortunately, the seas are much calmer and less deadly now, but be careful, not all of Amphitrite's charm can retain her husband's character. Although a part of me says she prefers it that way.

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

[apiciuscats]

hihi!! I rlly loved your sakadays fic where the reader turned into a cat and was wondering if you could do a version where they turn into a cat instead ?? ^_^

— YOU’RE A… CAT?! PT2 | Sakamoto Days

🐾 SUMMARY — After an experiment gone wrong, your partner has magically transformed into a cat! How would they deal with this predicament?

🐾 CHARACTERS — Shin Asakura, Nagumo Yoichi, Uzuki Kei, Gaku

CONTENT & NOTES — Established relationships, probably OOC characters, comedy and fluff. Bad writing, not super proud of this but it is what it is. I was intending to make each part a little longer to make up for less characters, but my mind was seriously blanking today.

WC — 1.7k total, 200-400 per character. 

💌 REQUESTS ARE OPEN! Feel free to send them in for Saka.Days after reading my pinned Request Rules !!

SHIN ASAKURA

He becomes a cute golden cat with blue eyes!

At first, he’s very stressed about the change. How is he supposed to well.. do his job? Or at least scold Lu if she puts stuff in the wrong place again? What if another assassin comes along and he can’t even do anything, helpless in his cat form? 

And he hates this form! He’s much smaller, can’t hold things, his vision, hearing, everything is different- even people’s thoughts seem louder in his head now. 

On the other hand, Sakamoto and Lu don’t even seem to be that bothered, much to his dismay. Lu even has the audacity to try and pet him and pick him up. He runs onto the counter, hoping Sakamoto can sense the urgency of this terrible situation, only for him to leisurely try to give him a pat too. Not even looking up from his newspapers. 

Surely you’d help... right? At the very least you seem to be slightly concerned about the situation. However, you’re not acting as panicked or determined to find the solution as he thought you’d be. In fact, a few minutes after he nervously presents himself to you, and Lu explains the situation, you do the same thing as them- and reach out to stroke his fur. 

He grumpily lets you do so. He must admit the feeling is pleasant. He tries to think of anything that can help him escape from this situation. Maybe Natsuki can— he always creates different gadgets.. right? Or surely one of his other friends would know. Heisuke certainly wouldn’t. Lu and Sakamoto are useless. Aoi and Hana only find his change adorable. He can’t get in touch with Natsuki. Nagumo is 100% out of the question… yeah, he’s cooked. He makes a note to remind himself to get more useful companions. 

After a few hours of pacing in the shop and running away from Lu’s petting attempts, he settles down beside you with a huff, not meeting your gaze and letting you pet him for a while. 

In the day, he vows to go on a long mission to find a way to revert his changes. He stalks out of the shop with determination in his steps. Unfortunately, his plan is foiled quite immediately. Heisuke finds him first, picks him up (much to his insistent hissing) and pets him. When he finally frees himself he finds that there is nowhere to go within walking distance for him. He looks at you for help, but you have no idea what he wants to do. 

Lu suggests he must want fresh air. You end up taking him on a long stroll through the streets instead, enjoying the weather and picking up trinkets and food from the stalls of the bustling area and vendors. Even the pedestrians want to stop and pet him. He stoops away for the most part.

He returns to the shop an hour later fruitlessly... Why isn’t anyone worried?! Instead of aiding him on his journey to find a solution, you took him to enjoy the summer weather. Fine, it’s not like he dislikes spending time with you, but he’d much rather do it while he was a human!

It would take him days to get settled. He’d try to reprimand Lu for putting things in the wrong place, whether it be meowing indignantly in his most dignified way or biting/scratching at her apron. Sakamoto started reprimanding him instead for doing the latter. He turns to you for help, but you only coo at how cute he is. He can’t wait to be back as a human. 

YOICHI NAGUMO — 

Lithe little black cat with dark brown eyes <3

First of all, he finds some way to mess with you. I don’t see him as the type to purposefully do major things like pushing vases, thankfully, but he finds other ways to annoy you. 

Also tries to hunt and bring things in for you. Shows up with a dead mouse in his mouth. Absolutely not! He droops and drops it so you let him in. 

He’s definitely not complaining about a good excuse to slack off or take a break from his job. He’s not 100% happy about his predicament— he’s weaker, and he can’t use his disguise skills anymore. Well, he can, but he can only look like other cats, so it’s kind of pointless unless he wants to mess with you. If there are bright sides— he gets to spend time with you, he gets to not do his assassin work, and he can explore new places. 

However, he sure is smug about it. He sits on your lap or on your chest, gets all the pets he wants, and refuses to get off. If you choose not to pet him? Fine. He’ll dig his claws into your shirt and stay there all day. He has nothing else to do now anyway. 

After several hours when he finally gets off, you’re utterly covered in fur and he stares at you, certainly laughing at you. 

He takes this opportunity to claim all your items too. He gets fur over all your favourite shirts and hoodies, sleeps on your objects— papers, clothes, computer, keyboard— anything you need he’ll sleep on. 

I feel like if you tried to get him toys, he would indulge you and chase them for a bit, but even he grows bored of them quite easily. Not as fun as pouncing on you. Demands attention almost 24/7. 

The cat that stays up all night. When you’re asleep, he gets so bored. He spent his entire day napping on you so now he doesn’t know what to do. He goes outside, then meows and paws at your window so you can let him in again. Not like he wouldn’t be able to find a way to get in even if you didn’t let him in, he just finds your tired, grumpy expression hilarious. 

Although he’s not in a rush to return to human form, he’d preferably want to transform back in a few days. The last thing he wants is the other Order members on his ass, or people trying to take advantage of his new form to attack him. 

UZUKI KEI — 

Veryyyy fluffy white cat with pale blue eyes eek 

Blud is NOT happy about the change. He’s completely not used to it. If the voices in his head weren't enough, now he has enhanced senses— scents and sounds pouring in, and he can’t even fight a fraction as when he was a human.

Internally, Kumanomi thinks the change is adorable. She knows much better than to even attempt to pet her boss on the head though, even if they were close. 

He supposes he can tolerate some pets from you. Admittedly, the feeling is great. He tries not to act like he‘s enjoying it too much, merely tolerating it for your sake, but you would know better. 

As time goes on, he stresses out more. He knows it’s not like his organization would utterly fall apart a few days without him— Kumanomi or Gaku can take over just fine for a bit, and everyone is a capable fighter, but this change is horrible! He feels embarrassed and rather belittled too. Their notorious and strong leader shouldn’t be reduced to this useless.. fluffy.. cat. 

After a while of pacing he tries to settle down and think, curled up beside you while he tolerates your pats. 

Even if the members of his organization didn’t mind his change, or even considered it cute, he’d never ever recover from this. Out of everybody in his group, he was the only one who got turned into such a weak cat..! How humiliating for him. It’ll take much reassurance from you just so he stops thinking about it. 

And he certainly does not want outsiders to catch wind of this. Not only is it dangerous— he could become an easy target. It would also be even more deplorable if the other assassins found out the strong and calculating Slur turned into a.. cat. 

When he finally does return to his human form, he’s never so relieved and would prefer if the incident was never mentioned again. 

GAKU — 

Slightly long-furred light blue cat with pink eyes. Yeah, the colour is unnatural for cats, but his colours are also unnatural for a human so 🤑 

Lazyyyyy cat. A bit sad that he can’t play games anymore, so he just opts to sleep instead, or watch you play games [even if you suck]. 

Despite being somewhat grateful of his new predicament and ability to skip working, his loyalty to Slur would make him still a bit irritated about the change the first day or so. 

For the most part, he walks around the area or stays beside you. He eats, for the most part, snacks. You have to feed him chips in small amounts, because you’re worried him eating too much salt in a frailer form can’t be very good for him. 

Needless to say, Kumanomi finds the change cute too and even dares to attempt to pet him.

He can’t fight now, either, which is rather annoying. No training or jobs for him, and he won‘t even attempt to budge his own mace in this form. 

Canon that he sleeps like a log, but this is no less annoying even when he’s a cat. Sleeps in the middle of hallways, and even with enhanced hearing, absolutely nothing wakes him up. The amount of times someone has tripped over him too, as he’s much smaller now, is incomprehensible. If he isn’t sleeping in the most unconventional place, he’s sleeping on or beside you, and he does not wake up easily either. Which means you'll have to tolerate him for a couple hours, or you have to manually move him, which is somehow the only way to wake him up. If you do that, he wakes up, stares blankly at you and ideally jumps back onto you and falls asleep again. 

Just like Nagumo, he’ll also sleep on your things. Consequently, you’re covered in fur as are all of your belongings by the end of day 1. 

Watches you and/or Kumanomi game while he’s bored, lazily lounging beside you and internally judging both of your bad gameplay. If he’s feeling petty he might nip you for doing a bad play. What a shame that he can’t take over anymore, because he really wants to after tolerating half an hour of your ‘terrible’ gaming skills [in his opinion]. 

please don't copy or repost/translate my works, or use it to train AI.

pawprint header: @/dogfoodvendingmachine

[darling2411]

Her Shadow

Jason Todd x reader

1.8K

*:･✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You were confused. It's been nearly a week since you last saw your shadow. Was he gone? Did you scare him off when you called out for him? Or did something happen?

Why did you even care? It wasn't like you knew him. But you missed the feeling of safety his closeness gave you. Yes you never saw him,but you always sensed his presence, and you missed him now that you didn't.

You stopped feeling alone as soon as your shadow entered your life because you weren't. No matter where you went, you could always rely on him to be there. 

Jason longed to be with you, but he had to stay away until he recovered from a mission gone wrong.

He had to lay low for a while after you saw him anyway. But the week he had to spend away from you was one of the hardest things he ever had to do.

His entire being begged to be with you. To keep an eye on you and make sure everything was okay. He had even gone so far as to think about asking his brother to come see how you were doing and find out whether everything was okay, but he decided against it. Jason wanted to keep you all to himself. And to be fair he doesn't even really have you. Yes he knows as much about you as he could figure out without really breaking every sense of your privacy. But you don't know him. And he had to change that as soon as possible. Jason wanted to get to know you, but he didn’t know how he could achieve that.

Like a gift sent from heaven the solution to his most pressing problem came in the form of yourself. 

Other than a few scratches on his face Jason was all healed, but he hasn't seen you in 10 days and he missed you.

He was on his way back to his apartment when he unexpectedly saw you. His heart started beating faster and he could swear that if it could his heart would jump out of his chest and intertwine with yours.

However, all of his optimistic thoughts vanished when he realizes in what situation you are in and instead his head is filled with rage.

A man was pressing you against the brick wall of a building and you were screaming at him to let you go. You were making it clear that you didn’t want this, that he was making you incredibly uncomfortable, but the guy wouldn't let you go. 

Jason was fuming and before he himself could realize what he was doing he pulled the man off you and started beating him.

You were able to breathe again as soon as the man was shoved away from you and after taking a few deep breaths you noticed that the man who pushed the creep of you was still beating him. You heard a sickening crunch and you knew it was the sound of bones breaking. 

"Hey!" you exclaimed, "please stop." And as soon as your voice reached Jason's ears he stopped immediately, his sole focus on you.

"Are you alright?" His breathing was irregular as he asked.“Did he hurt you?”

You shake your head no “ Other than being a creep you stepped in before anything bad could happen.”

“Don't do that” Jason said, his gaze still full of rage, “That he even put his hand on you without you giving him permission is to much”

You flushed and shrugged your shoulders, saying, "I know, but it wasn't like he assaulted me." 

“He did!” Why were you so adamant on telling him that nothing happened?

“Perhaps, but it makes no difference. You stopped him and nothing really happened. And I'm not gonna say anything anyway.” you rolled your eyes.

Jason was baffled “What do you mean you won't say anything? You have to report him.” He looked at you expectantly.

"Report him?I will either get fired or no one will believe me if I report him, Mister-huge-bicep.” You say being unable not to notice his shirt pressing against the bulging muscles in his arms. You turned to the creep who unfortunately happened to be your boss or rather professor. You were his assistant and most of the time he behaved himself but lately more often than not he made weird jokes and sexual comments. But you needed the money, the job in the little supermarket on the corner didn't cover all your expenses. And you really like your little apartment. If not for your job as a teaching assistant you would have to move back in with your mother and that was something you really don't want to do. 

Mr. Huge Bicep? Jason was overcome with male pride, but he was unable to concentrate on it at the moment. There were more pressing matters. “Is he your boss?” He took a step towards you, saying, “Yn. I asked if he is your boss”

Hold on, did he just say your name? Did you tell him? You must have but when?

“How do you know my name? I didn't tell you, did i?”

Shit, he fucked up” That doesnt matter right now, Is he your boss or not?”

"Yes, he is. He is my professor and also my boss. I’ m his teaching assistant and I really need that job”

“Alright this is what we’re going to do now. First of all I'm gonna walk you home and make sure nothing else happens to you. Then we are going to talk about what you plan to do with your professor and after that I'm gonna explain to you why I know your name, alright ?”

“That sounds good and I'm gonna make us a little something to eat and don't you even try to say no. It's the least I can do after you literally saved me.” you smiled up at him kindly.

How could he ever say no to you in any way? He was totally smitten with you and he never even really talked to you until today.

“Alright” You already turned away from him and didn't see the slight smile on his face after he accepted your invitation.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The two of you made your way over to your apartment. If you noticed that he led the way there without you telling him where to go you didn't say anything. 

You opened the door when you arrived and let him inside. 

Your apartment is a pure reflection of yourself. It is plaid out in your favourite colours and all your little hyperfixation are displayed all over the place. It was so unapologetically you and Jason immediately felt at peace. Just like he usually did when he was following you around as your shadow and was in your mere presence .

“Nice place” he muttered as you ushered him into your little kitchen. 

“Thanks, I love it” you beamed.

Yeah he could see that. “Is that why you don't want to tell anyone about your boss?” he asked, his voice soft.

“Yes,” you answered silently.” If I want to keep this place and I really do, then I also have to keep that job.” You just got your shot at independence and you weren't going to let it slip through your fingers without a fight.

“Okay then.”, Jason sighed, ”Has he ever done anything similar ?” he asked, his fist clenched tight. The simple thought of you being in a situation like this before without him there was making him want to punch the professor all over again. Additionally he was extremely mad at himself because how could he not know that you had a second job and that your professor was a fucking creep? If he had known about this he would have helped you sooner. Jason hoped that your boss would still be where he left him later so he could give him another beating for even thinking about you inappropriately.

“No, not really. I mean he always made little comments but he has never been physical with me before. I think it is my fault. I was really nice to him this morning and said that we could meet up to mark the next exams after the lectures were finished and I think he misunderstood me.” your voice got more unsure the more you tried to explain yourself.

“This was definitely not your fault. He is stupid and heard what he wanted to hear. Nothing that happened had anything to do with what you said or how you behaved. This is not your fault, sweetheart” Jason squeezed your shoulders reassuringly.

You looked at him sheepishly, his fingers now drawing little patterns into your skin calming you down. “ I know that I'm supposed to feel like that, but I can't help but feel guilty. I know that the guilt has to change sides but the victims almost always gets all the blame and it’s so deep ingrained in us that even I as a woman sometimes think that it is my fault and that is so messed up.” You sigh heavily.

“Yes it is that is why you have to report him” Jason says trying to persuade you to do the thing he thinks is right.”Nothing will change if you don’t try.”

“You really think that it will help?” you ask, still unsure if anything will change if you report your professor.

“If I come with you yes” Jason says extremely sure of himself.

“What is that supposed to mean?” you ask perplexed.

“Well I uhm” he trailed off , not quite sure what to say. Should he already tell you about his connection to Bruce? “I mean I saw what happened so im sure they have to believe you if  you have a witness.” 

“You're right I will report him first thing in the morning. I hope you know that you have to come with me. You are the witness after all.” Now it is your time to look at him expectantly.

He did know and the possibility of spending more time with you made him all giddy inside.

“Yeah, no problem.” He looked at you intensely, finally being able to really look at you without as much distance between you as when he was keeping an eye on you from far away. You are the most magnificent thing Jason has ever laid his eyes upon. And if he could he would never stop looking at you.

“You said you would tell me how you know my name?”,that got Jason's attention and he stopped staring at your perfectly kissable lips and focused on your eyes instead.

“Yes but how about we eat something before I tell you?” He asked, trying to delay the conversation as long as he could before he has to tell you everything and you wouldn’t want to see him ever again.

He hopes you won't hate him when he confesses to being your shadow.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

[bluephoenixprincess]

Courting Tournament: Spicynoodles edition~<3

and now to outline for you all here, the premise of a Courting Tournament fic i plan on Actually Writing.

So, its post Season 5, and for the moment at least, MKs hero life has slipped back into the comfortable rhythm of jobber demons causing trouble and MK stopping them, as many weak or low level demons get emboldened by the powerboost from the Pillar Stones.

But then things start getting weird. Slowly but surely the Various Demon attackers get less and less focused on whatever Mayhem or theivery or whatever they were up to and start focusing more and more on MK himself. Not in a "defeat you for glory way" either, in a much more uncomfortable way.

And if that werent bad enough, MK finds himself slipping into his Monkey form more and more often, thankfully without emotional distress or uncontrollable power outbursts, but it just keeps happening and MK still isnt very used to the form to begin with.

Mk being Mk of course tries to hide slash ignore these issues until he cant anymore. Culminating in a fight with a stronger than average demon who get MK on the back foot for a hot second and starts saying some very uncomfortable things about how he cant wait to take MK home and make him his little wife/husband/mate.

MK hearing that immediately goes monkey mode, puts that guy through several walls, and flies off to FFM to find out what the hell is going on.

And Like, MK knows about courtnapping, the basics at least, that demon tradition considers whisking away prospective mates and showing them how well you can protect them and provide for them the height of romance. A little weird but hey, humans have had some weird romance traditions as well.

But the realization that all the demons he's been fighting want to courtnap HIM? combined with the weird stuff going on with his monkey form? MK cant deal with this.

By the time he gets to Wukongs house he's crying and stuck in his monkey form with no idea what to do about everything. Wukong immediately bundles his successor onto the couch and, after a glass of water and some comforting fur grooming, manages to get out of him whats wrong.

Needless to say Wukong is Concerned and a bit miffed that MK didnt tell him or anyone else what was going on. But concern and caring for his crying student whos clearly stressed the fuck out now, lecturing later.

With his eyes of truth and maybe a magic test of some sort, Wukong discerns the cause of all the nonsense.

MKs body has Reached the demonic state of full maturity, which most notably includes the core of his magic fully maturing. Because of this, not only is he more or less stuck in Monkey form for awhile, but every demon for miles around can feel vibrant energy coming off him in waves.

And they want a peice of that.

So, Regardless of how widespread the knowledge of Sun Wukongs successor (and basically heir) was before, its spread to all corners of demon scociety now. And just like his mentor before him poor MK is getting swarmed.

MK is understandably upset by these revelations and may or may not start hyperventilating while trying to play it off and insist he can totally handle it. Wukong decides to call in the rest of the Monkie Kid Crew to come up with a plan.of action. Cause while MK could probably handle most of his suitors, he shouldnt have to.

Some explaining, arguing and tea brewing later the whole crew is gathered in Wukongs house, Mk cuddled up between Mei and Tang.

Options are gone through and discarded, letting MK just deal with them as they come is out. Wukong offers MK to stay on Flower Fruit mountain till the suitors get the hint and leave him be since thats what he ultimately did, but when asked how long that could take Wukong makes an uncomfortable noise and avoids eyecontact as he remembers it took over a century. So... no.

Eventually Wukong Sighs and brings up a solution he knows can deal with these types of situations, at least for awhile, If they Hold a Courting Tournament for MK, they can deal with all of his suitors at once and turn what could be months of headache into a couple weeks at most.

Theres a lot of yelling and explaining, and Wukong ultimately puts the decision in MKs hands. Mk thinks long an hard but ultimately decides a couple weeks/few days of being a spectacle is preferable to who knows how long of being harrassed.

"*sigh* Lets do the tournament thing"

~●~●~●~●~●~●~●~

So wheres Red Son in all this? At some big fancy Demon gala/festival thing with his parents, bored out of his mind and surrounded by people he mostly dislikes. As is typical for such gatherings.

He and his parents are there to shmooze, make alliances and work on properly reestablishing the Demon Bull Families influence in Demon high society.

Redson, after having one to many snide comments made his way about his families repeated defeats at the hands of Wukongs successor, is hiding in a corner sipping a drink waiting for the night to be over.

And definitely not thinking about how much he'd rather be hanging out with the Dragon Girl and Noodle Boy, especially Noodle boy.

Until the host of the event calls the whole rooms attention to make a big announcement. That theyve just recieved a messenger from Flower Fruit Mountain. The mere mention sends a stir through the crowd, the Monkey kinds been basically a reculse for the last several centuries so him sending out a message is big.

And it is big. As the announcement, to this gathering and all of the three realms, is that Wukong and company will be holding a Courting Tournament, no not for the Monkey king again, but for his Successor.

Red Son Drops his glass and cant even begin to care when it shatters on the floor.

~○~▪︎~○~▪︎~○~

Back with Monkie Kid Gang plans are being made.

Mei all but insists on being MKs Champion. And While MK is worried she might get hurt, Wukong swears to him that he as host will enforce Strict Rules to prevent such things.

Thus, the stage is set. I'll come back to this, but since i plan to write this as a full fic, i dont want yo spoil too much.

[twice-my-age-simp]

You can't be with her!

KateBishopxFem!reader, WandaNatxDaughter!reader

Warnings: little bit of angst, fluff, smut, making out, strap-on, top!Kate

Summary: Your moms found out about your relationship with Kate and are not happy with it. They want to keep you safe, unintentionally hurting you while doing that.

Notes: Sorry for my long absence. Here's a new one shot for you. I think it's the longest work I've ever written so far. Enjoy reading this piece.

Word count: 5.2k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You knew you were in trouble. It was obvious. Especially after they broke into the house and you saw a very angry ex-assassin and a very pissed witch in the living room. But, let’s start from the beginning ‘cause what a story it is.

 

8 hours earlier

 

“No, there is no way.” your mom said firmly, standing in the kitchen with her hands on her hips. You stood up from your chair and walked closer to her.

“Why? You can’t just do that.” you fighted back. You couldn’t believe this is happening and centrally won’t let it become the truth. You love your moms and you know they always try to do what’s best for you, but this time they were in the wrong.

“I can and I just did. You can’t see Kate anymore.” Nat said with a stern look, tightening her jaw. You turned from her to your other mom. “Mama, won’t you say anything?” you asked, a pleading look on your face.

Wanda, who was standing and listening to the conversation this whole time, walked closer to her wife. “Y/N, sweety, we’re just looking out for you.” she answered gently. You felt absolutely helpless, hurt and angry.

“You can’t make this decision for me. It’s my life and my relationship.” you spoked, hoping that they will change their minds. 

“You are our daughter and still a child. It is as we say.” Nat added, not backing up. It’s hard to fight an assassin, even if it is not a physical fight. “Listen, we don’t want to be the bad guys here or make your life miserable. It’s just..” Nat signed. “Kate is an Avenger. This job is very dangerous and being with her can put you in life threatening danger. It’s already risky considering that you are our daughter.“

“I’m not a child anymore, I’m 21 years old. Nothing bad will happen to me. Please, I love her. Y-you can’t do that.” your eyes started to fill up with tears, your voice’s slowly breaking.

“I’m sorry, but that’s final.” Hearing that, you rushed to your room, locking yourself in it. You threw yourself on your bed and started crying.

Everything was good before. Your moms didn’t know about your relationship. You successfully kept it from them for a little over a year, always saying that you were going out with some friends. But of course, they had to walk in on you and Kate making out in the training room when you were visiting the Avengers in the compound, because they had some stuff to take care of. Nat immediately took you to the car. The drive home was silent, but when you got inside, they started saying that you needed to end things with Kate for “your own good”.

You picked up your phone, opened contacts and dialed the phone number. It was three rings after that the person answered. “Hi, Y/N.” said the angelic voice on the other side. It was all it took you to utter a sob, breaking down more from just hearing her. “Y/N? What’s wrong? Does it have something to do with your moms finding out about us?” Kate asked with a concerned tone. You didn’t want to tell her about your fight because it would make it true and you couldn’t let that happen. However, Kate deserves to know. Maybe you can come up with a solution and everything will be great again. At least you hoped so.

“Kate-” you sobbed. “They want me to break up with you.” you cried out. Silence enveloped the room. You didn’t know if it was because she hung up or she was shocked. Pulling the phone from your ear, you looked at the screen; okay, she’s still there. “Kate? Please, say something.”

After a few seconds, you heard her say, you think she’s also crying. “I don’t know what to say.” she cleared her throat and added. “There’s nothing I can do? Maybe they can still change their mind?”

“I don’t think so.” You said. The truth is, if there was anything that would change this, you would already do it. Sad reality hit you. Your moms don’t want you to be with Kate. Then you wondered if it was even important to you. I mean, of course, you want them to approve of your relationship, but they don’t. They just don’t understand that she’s the love of your life. Your whole heart. Your everything. At that moment, you made up your mind. “You know what? I don’t care what they say; I want to be with you. I love you, Kate. ” you said, determined, wiping the tears from your cheeks with the back of your hand. Your moms are not gonna come in between your love life. You won’t let them.

“I love you too and I want to be with you for the rest of my life. Are you sure, though? I mean, they are your moms. I don’t want your relationship with them to be destroyed because of me.” Kate said, her voice slowly quieting. You can’t help but feel your heart grow bigger with love for her if it is still even possible. She cares about you so much, you couldn’t be more sure about your decision.

“Yes, I want to be with you forever, Katie.” you said truthfully. “I can’t imagine my life without you.”

“I can’t imagine my life without you too. What are we gonna do about your moms?” she asked.

“I don’t know, yet.” you said. You didn’t like to lie to your moms, but in this case, you feel like you have to. “Maybe we can meet up today? I can say that I need to go for a walk to clear my mind or something. You can park your car a few streets away.” you said hopefully. “Sure, be there in an hour.” With that, you ended the call.

Kate will be here in an hour, so you intend to spend this time on getting ready. You had to wear something not too fancy for a walk but not too ugly for a hangout with your girlfriend. ‘Girlfriend’, after all this time you’ve been together, you still can’t believe you get to call her that. It makes your heart flutter every time.

After some time of thinking about what to wear and getting mentally ready to lie to your moms, you were ready to leave. Walking down the stairs, you opt to look upset, but without it looking weird. You know it is hard to lie to a witch and an ex-assassin.

You slowly made your way to put on some shoes when someone called from behind. “And where are you going, young lady?” You turned to see Nat with her arms crossed. “I hope it isn’t the girl I clearly said is dangerous for you to hang out with.” She said sternly.

That got your blood boiling. “If you want to know, I’m going for a walk to clear my head, because my mother said I can’t be with the love of my life!” You shouted, tears started to well up again. Nat stood a little shocked at the outburst but quickly recovered. “Quit the tone; you know I do this for your safety. I just want to protect you.” She said the last part a little softer.

“Whatever.” You said and walked out of the house, shutting the door.

You turned left and started going down the street; hopefully Kate is already there. As you walk, you make yourself slightly more presentable, fixing the hair and wiping the tears that once again started to flow because of the encounter with your mom. Turning left, you see Kate’s car parked on the side of the road. Smiling, you increased your speed and got into the car.

“Hi-” Kate didn’t manage to greet you because you immediately pulled her by her shirt into a long, passionate kiss. Your fist, full of the fabric, pulled Kate closer. Her hands flew to grip the back of your neck. Both missed the physical contact. Your lips, made to fit like two pieces, were moving against each other, stealing breath. Your lungs started to feel like they were on fire, but that didn't stop you from giving yourself to Kate in that kiss.

After a few minutes, you pull away from the kiss but still keep close to Kate. Your hand full of her shirt slightly loosens, yet the grip is still there. “Sorry, I just really missed you.” You said, looking down flustered. Finally, your eyes moved up, looking deeply into hers. “Hi.” you added after a moment of silence.

Kate smiled at you. “Hi.” She replied, giggling breathlessly. “I missed you too. So much.” 

It’s so stupid how her smile and the little glint in her eyes can make you all giggly and weak in knees. You know you loved her to the moon and back, you can’t give up on your relationship just because your moms tell you to, not when everything in you is screaming that Kate is the endgame, your endgame.

“Hey, hey, hey. What's wrong?” you felt Kate's hands on your face, thumbs wiping your cheeks. You didn't realize that you were crying. Every emotion's built up in you, and right when you saw her, you just had to let it all go. “It's just, I don't want to be away from you. I love you so much and I'm sick of this sneaking out, or my moms telling me that I can’t be with you.” you sniffled, looking into her eyes. “God, you are everything I want. I want to be with you forever. When I think about my future, I see you and me, and I don’t care what our lives will look like as long as we are together; that's everything I want.” You really poured your heart out there. It’s not typical for you to be this vulnerable in front of Kate—actually in front of anyone; you’ve always kept everything to yourself. 

Now that you think of it, you think you might have scared Kate. She’s silent, just staring at you, hands still on your face. You think you blew it, that it was too much for her. After all, you’ve been dating for only a little over a year. Thoughts started to flood your mind, creating the worst scenarios and just when you were about to apologize-

“Marry me.” Kate said, her face not showing any emotions. You were speechless; did you hear it right? Kate asked you to marry her? Well, it wasn’t really a question, more like as if she just admitted to herself that she wants to marry you. Nonetheless, there is still a part of you that believes that you heard it wrong. “What?” You breathed out, your eyes searching for reassurance in hers.

“Marry me.” She repeated more confidently this time as if coming back to life. “I’m serious. I know that we haven’t been dating for long, but I also want to be with you forever. I love you and I don’t want to be with anyone else; you are the only one for me. I want everything with you, I want you. This won’t be easy, but that’s great. Easy is boring.” you both giggled at that. “This is reckless and not normal at all, but let’s just be for real. We are reckless and nothing in our lives is normal, I mean, your moms are a witch and an ex-assassin and I am an Avenger. Nothing ever was normal and nothing will be, and frankly, I love it this way.” Kate ended her heartwarming speech with a big smile on her face, tears now also in her eyes. “So, Y/N Romanoff, will you marry me?”

“Yes!” You said matching her smile. “Of course I will marry you.” Pulling the shirt you still had a grip on, you pull Kate into a slow kiss, filled with salty tears. You think you’ve never been so sure about anything in your life. Honestly, that’s all you ever wanted, to marry the love of your life and that is marrying Kate Bishop.

“Good, cause I thought for a second that I went too far.” Kate started to ramble after pulling away. You thought that the best way to stop her from that was to kiss her again. It didn’t last long though, because after a few seconds she pulled back again. She turned so she’s sitting straight, her back to the seat, and started to wave her hands around. “Oh my, I need to buy a ring. God! I’m so unprepared!” You tried to stop her by calling her name, but that didn’t really work.

“Katherine Elizabeth Bishop!” Using her full name did work. She stopped immediately and looked at you. You giggled at her. “You need to stop worrying about that. I want to marry you, not the ring. I don’t need any rings, just you, okay?” Kate looked at you as if looking for clarification, then she cutely tilted her head and pouted and that just made you want to kiss her.

“I know, but I really want to get you a ring. You deserve that, you deserve a big proposal with-with rose petals, a nice dinner and a big diamond ring, not this. A girl who proposes in her car without even a paper ring.” She started having doubts about herself; you could see that. “I love that girl. I don’t need some rich and stuck-up proposal. I couldn’t have imagined it better than this.” You made sure she was looking at you as you said that to her. That was the truth, so you wanted her to believe you.

“Okay.. okay.” Kate clears her throat, then adds. “So, shall we go and get married now?” you both smiled at each other. Reaching for seat belts in order to fasten them, you answered. “Yes, we shall.”

 

It turned out it wasn’t that easy. You had to have witnesses. After some thinking, you reached out to Aunt Yelena, while Kate called Clint. Although it took some convincing to get the old man to drive here because, as he said, he doesn’t want to ‘deal with angry mothers anymore’, whatever that means, he might have been referring to Laura, but you’re not sure; you also think that he really just didn’t want to move his three letters.

Well, eventually, he agreed. Yelena didn’t need this much convincing; well, she didn’t need to be convinced at all. She said she’d be happy to piss off her sister; she mentioned something about getting back at her for borrowing, without her knowing, one of her vests and then destroying it on a mission, but you could have misheard.

Kate got anxious again, but this time about clothing. Both of you wore casual clothes, not right for a marriage. So that’s how you got dragged by Kate for a little shopping. It took you both a while, but in Kate's eyes it was worth it, because now you and her looked good.

It wasn’t long before you and Kate signed up the marriage license with Clint and Yelena next to you, and you were good to go. You bit your goodbyes with them, then made your way to Kate’s car. While you were both sitting, the car still not turned on, you realized what just happened. ”We just got married.” Kate stated firmly, her face not showing any emotions while looking straight ahead. You turned your head to look at her. ”We just got married.” She repeated, now with a big smile on her face. Also turning her head to you, she started to giggle. Hearing her laughter, you started to giggle yourself, also not believing that this is real.

Kate leaned in and brought her hand to the back of your neck to pull your foreheads together. ”You are my wife.” She said breathlessly. ”I am your wife.” You said in the same tone. Your wife pulled you into a long, passionate kiss. ”Damn, your moms are really gonna kill me now” Kate said after pulling away. This caused you both to burst out laughing. “Well, if this is my last hour, how about we make the best of it and go back to mine, my wife?“ She asked with a smirk on her face, clearly insinuating on doing something really not PG. Your cheeks turned slightly red, but you matched her smirk. “Lead the way, my wife.”

You’re sure that your superhero broke a few laws driving you to her apartment. Both of you are very eager and excited for what awaits you there. So as soon as the door was closed, Kate pushed you into it, trapping you between the wooden surface and her. Hands flying to your hips, squeezing and pushing more against the hardwood. Lips mingling with yours fastily, tongue pushing into your mouth, exploring the inside. Next thing you know, she was tagging at your pants, trying to take them off. Once you’re free from them, Kate’s hands traveled from your hips, over your ass, stopping on it for a second to squeeze, and then went downwards to the back of your thighs. With one swift movement, you were pulled from the door for a second, only to be pushed against it again, but this time with your legs around Kate’s waist.

Her kisses moved from your lips to nip at your neck, for sure, leaving lots of hickeys. You leaned your head back, revealing more skin on your neck. The particular bite on your pulse point made you moan. Your hands flew to her hair in order to pull her closer. With a mind full of thoughts about Kate, you breathlessly conhered some words. “B-bedroom… now.” you gasped when suddenly Kate pulled you both away from the door and started to blindly walk towards the bedroom. While you were stumbling across the living room, you threw your bag on the table, or at least you hoped it landed on the table, not caring about stuff inside. Though you’re pretty sure that your bag opened from the impact.

After some struggling, your back hit the bed with Kate on top of you. Lips once again connected, Kate started grinding her hips on yours. Suddenly, you felt it—the hardness underneath her pants. “Is-is that-?” You stuttered, then moaned because Kate pressed herself harder on you, so you feel it against your core.

“Mhm, a new one.” Kate smirked at you and again pushed her hips into yours, making you gasp. She leaned down to your neck and started to mark you everywhere she could. When she got to your pulse point, you moaned and gripped the back of her head, burying your fingers into her hair, pulling her closer. You feel hands tagging at your shirt. With your arms up, Kate swiftly takes off your shirt, leaving you in only your panties and bra. However, it doesn’t take long for her to also remove these undergarments. “So pretty.. so delicious, just for me to taste.” Kate’s hands started to wander.

Wanting to see more of Kate, you unbuttoned her shirt, slid it down her arms and then the shirt joined the rest of the clothes on the ground in the bedroom. Your hands immediately flew to her arms to feel her strong muscles. Then, to her abdomen, where she clearly has abs. “One of many perks of being an Avenger; lots of training that makes you have these muscles.” You stare in awe, biting your lip.

Kate leaned down again and nipped at your skin, making her path from your neck to your chest. She took your left nipple in her mouth, sucking on it hard, while her other hand squeezed the right breast. After some time, she switched the breasts and started sucking on the right one. ”Please, Kate… I want you.. now.” you pleaded.

Not wanting to tease you, just this night, Kate pulled away and took off the rest of her clothes, revealing the strap-on. “Purple?” You chuckle a little.

“What? I look good in purple.” Kate grinned and once again got on top of you. The strap was rubbing against your clit, making you shut your eyes and groan softly. “You want my cock, sweetheart?” Kate asked, rubbing her strap even harder.

“Yes! Please, Kate, I want your cock. Please fuck me.” You desperately rumble, your mind full of thoughts of how she can ruin you. This strap is definitely bigger than what you were used to, but you are willing to try this, considering how wet you are for her.

Kate leaned to your ear to whisper. “As you wish, babygirl.” Right after that, she harshly pushed at least a half of the strap in your pussy. Your moans and grunts get louder as she continues to slide in. “Fuck, baby. Always so tight for me.” You shut your eyes tightly as you feel more and more fuller with every second.

Finally, your hips were flush against each other. Your breath is more ragged as you try to get used to the fullness. “Kate… s-so full, fuck, so big” you moaned. After a few more seconds, Kate started to pull out and thrust her hips forward, causing you to let out a loud scream.

Your moans only encouraged Kate to keep going. The thrusts were much harder now; it made your head spin. You wrapped your arms around her back, burying your nails into it. Kate hissed into your ear from the harsh scratches, but it fuelled her to give you more. The room was filled with the sounds of your moans and the slapping of your hips with every thrust. “Kate- shit… I’m going to-” you are cut off by a hoarse groan that bursts out of your throat when Kate hits one particular place.

“It’s okay. Let go for me, baby.” Kate said breathlessly. That was all you needed, and soon your eyes rolled back. You arched your back into her, threw your head back and let out a silent scream. Kate was still thrusting into you as you were falling over the edge. 

After you calmed down, she slowly pulled out of you. You groaned at the emptiness as you were trying to catch your breath. Kate was peppering your body with soft kisses. When she got up to your face, you smiled at each other. “That- that was incredible.” you said panting. “Glad you liked it, my love.” she pecked your lips. With a swift move, you turned you both over, so Kate was now on her back with you on top of her. “Let me return the favor.” you grinned and leaned down to kiss her.

 *****

You were lying on the bed with your head on Kate’s chest. Your arm around her abdomen, leg between hers. Kate has her arm wrapped around your bare body. The covers were loosely thrown on both of you as you were lying together in your own, quiet bubble.

“You know… I was thinking..” Kate started. You turned your head to look at her and wait for her to continue. “Since we are married now” this made you smile. You still can’t believe that this is real and that Kate is your wife now. “Maybe, if you want… you could move in with me.” your eyes widen at her words. A smile spread across your face. You lifted slightly from the bed to move closer to her and give her a passionate kiss in which you couldn’t stop smiling. The same goes for Kate.

When you pulled out, you looked her in the eyes. “Of course I want to move in with you!” you both had such big smiles on your faces that your cheeks started to ache. “Great! I was scared for a second that you wouldn’t want that. What will you tell your moms, though? Maybe you should-” as Kate continued to rumble, your heart stopped. Shit. Your moms, they don’t know anything, AND you said you were going for a walk, which is now about six hours long. Shit, shit. Your phone has been on silent since you went to get married. They probably called you and texted you a million times.

“Shit, my moms! They have to wonder where I am!” you said cutting her off and quickly got out of bed, panicking. You throw on yourself one of Kate’s hoodies, put on your panties and some Kate’s shorts. At the corner of your eye, you see that Kate also got up and started to get dressed. You left the bedroom and headed towards the living room, where you left your phone in the bag. Just as you walked into the living room space, your heart stopped at the sight.

So, now you know the story behind why an angry witch and a pissed-off ex-assassin broke into the apartment and were standing in the living room. They had their hands on their hips, with scowls on the faces. “Mom, mama-” You were immediately caught off. “Don’t mamas us!” Wanda scoffed. She rarely got angry, she preferred to do things the calm way. However, when she did get angry, oh boy, hide if you can.

They had every right to be angry and you knew it. So you chose to stay silent this time. “Do you want to explain where you’ve been?” Nat asked with her jaw locked tight. “And why, when I called Clint to ask if he knew something about your whereabouts, he said that he doesn’t want to get involved anymore?” this time Wanda spoke. “Or why, when I called Yelena to ask if she knew something, she just laughed and hung up?” Natasha added. It was as if they talked it through, because they were literally changing after one sentence. It was creepy. “You lied to us, went radio silent and met up with the one person we specifically told you not to see!”

The person, as if on cue, came into the living room and stopped dead in tracks. “Mrs. Romanoff and..” Kate cleared her throat “Mrs. Romanoff.” She stood right next to you, her eyes locked on anything but your moms. The thick tension could be cut with a knife. You didn’t know what they would do now, with Kate next to you.

“And here’s the person in the flesh.” stated firmly Natasha, her eyes shooting daggers at Kate. “Mom, please.” you pleaded. You didn’t want this place to turn into a war zone. “Please what? Y/N, we've forbidden you from seeing her and the next thing you did after that was see her! You don-”

“What is that?” Wanda stopped Natasha from further shouting at you as she noticed something. You turned your head where she was looking, and your face turned pale. Wands was looking at the coffee table where you had thrown your bag earlier. The bag opened from the impact and some things fell out of it on the table. One of the things was your and Kate's marriage license. Your heart stuck in your throat as Wanda walked closer to it. She reached for the paper, picked it up and for a moment there was silence. But only for a short moment.

“You got married?!” Wanda shouted, turning to face you and Kate. Now she was really, really angry. Like the kind of angry when she has her eyes narrowed, eyebrows furrowed so that they are almost touching, and the worst, the little tilt in her head. Now you were fucked. “You what?!” this time Natasha shouted.

“I-... we just..” you wanted to say something, but didn't know what. What do you say in a situation like that, though? It was tough, but fortunately Kate noticed that you were struggling and decided to speak for you. She reached her hand to yours and interlaced your fingers together. Kate cleared her throat, mentally preparing herself for anything that could happen after she spoke. “We did. We got married today.” you didn't think that was possible, but silence was never this loud.

“Why would you do that? And without any of us knowing” Wanda spoke angrily as she handed the married license to Nat.

Natasha read the license, still not believing what she just heard. Her eyes stopped at one point. “Bishop? You changed your last name to Bishop?” Natasha asked in disbelief, interrupting Wanda. “Yeah…” you said, unsure, waiting for the explosion from your parents.

However, there is something else on their faces. Hurt? Disappointment? Sadness? You couldn't tell, but you knew you didn't like it. “Mom, mama, please don't look at me like that.” you said sadly, there is a stone in your heart. “I've never wanted to get married without you there, but I also didn’t want to marry anyone but Kate. And you specifically told me that I can't be with her… I just.. I couldn't let that happen. I just want you to be happy for me.” you reasoned, tears once again pricking in your eyes. You felt Kate's hand smoothing your back, which calmed you a little.

“Mrs. Romanoffs, I really love your daughter. You care about her safety as much as I do. I promise to keep her safe and sound.” Kate calmly said, meaning every word.

Wanda and Nat looked at each other, having a silent conversation. Soon, they turned back to face you and Kate. “Oh God..” Nat groaned, letting out a breath. “Y/N, darling, we didn't want you to feel like that; we just…” she didn't really know how to say it, so Wanda took the wheel. “We just love you so much, we want to keep you safe. However, I admit that we did go a little too far. We shouldn't get between you and Kate.” she says. Your eyes lit up a little, a small smile started to spread on your face. “Does that mean..?” you asked, still not sure you understood what they just said. “Yes, you can see Kate.”

Now you have the biggest smile on your face. You jumped up and down and then pulled your mothers in a hug, squeezing in happiness. Your moms laughed a little and hugged you back. “We love you, darling, and we are happy for you.”

“Thank you. I love you both, very much.” you grinned and pulled away from the hug. You go back to stand next to Kate, whose smile is as big as yours, and interlace your fingers.

“However,” Natasha turned to Kate with a stoic expression. “If you hurt her, I will hunt you down.” Kate started to feel a little nervous again, but tried not to show it. “Of course, I-I would never hurt her; I love her.” she rumbled quickly.

Soon, Wanda and Nat left the apartment, saying that today they will leave you and Kate alone, but tomorrow they want you both at home for dinner.

You went back to bed, lying next to each other. Both of you fell asleep in a loving embrace.