#(there is a reason he tells people i basically raised him and he asks ME for things before asking our father who is your coparent)

[diserbillyti]

Autism can actually affect somebody's understanding of consent.

Or rather, the social circumstances and lack of education people with profound autism are subjected to often results in a severely lacking understanding of consent.

I've been a disability educator on and off for most of my adult life. I've worked primarily with adults between 18 - 25, mostly men, in contexts that I believe your standard "well I'm autistic and I don't ever [problematic behaviour]" poster isn't even aware exist, because those are not contexts such people have ever had to be in.

A considerable part of my job was just having talks about consent with my students.

Many, many autistic people, that is the flavour of autistic people who were identified as autistic from childhood and raised in SPED or adjacent contexts, have spent their whole lives being infantilized and segregated from the outside world. Many of them have always been assumed to be "children in adult bodies." As a result, many of them have never had any meaninful sex education, especially not as relates to consent, beyond "if a stranger touches you in the vagina that's nnnnnno good."

There is a stigma around teaching them about sex and consent for fear of being labelled as a sexual predator, inflicting some kind of harm on the individual, or inspiring them to imitate what you've taught them about. If they are "children in adult bodies," well, children don't have sexual desires and sex in a context with children is always bad, so why would I teach this 19 year old man with descended testicles and adult hormones and shit about all that - he has babybrain, after all.

I had one student, a 22 year old man, who was hugging his psychologist in sessions with her so that he could feel her breasts against his chest. When he told me this, we had a consent talk. As he understood it, it only would've hurt her if she knew about it, but see, she thought it was just hugging and they'd always hugged even when he was a child, so unless she could read minds she'd have no way of knowing he was getting off on it. It took a few weeks and genuine social dev. exercises for him to understand beyond some kind of basic social rule of "don't do that" - and it's important for him to have that broader understanding so that he doesn't replicate the same problems elsewhere, ie. staring at women because "they can't see me staring and if they don't know it doesn't hurt them."

He's someone who 1. is disabled in a way that makes empathy and abstract reason difficult, and 2. has never been treated as having the potential to either have sexual thoughts or conduct himself in a sexually healthy way.

This kind of thing is exceedingly common. I've worked with men and women who masturbate in public because they do not have impulse control and do not understand that doing so can harm the people around them. After all, "I'm not touching anybody." I've worked with men and women who would discuss sex and pornography constantly regardless of social context because that is what they were presently obsessed with, and they lacked the ability to self-regulate. Superwholock was my Vietnam.

Basically, I've been in all kinds of complicated situations surroundinf disabled peoples' sexuality that indicate the severe lack of education that they receive, due to the norm of infantilisation.

I have also, and this is important, worked with dozens and dozens of disabled victims of sexual abuse.

If I were silly enough to think my subjective experience was representative of a universal truth, I'd say that 80% of intellectually disabled people have been sexually abused at some point or another. I have had so many disclosure experiences it is honestly maddening.

Many times students would just tell me things that happened to them during consent talks. It'd usually follow a stucture of,

"Touching someone's penis without asking first is wrong, because even if it makes us feel good, it can hurt them. Hurting people is wrong."

"But [person] touched my penis without asking and it didn't hurt."

That's seriously all it would take to discover half the time.

I'd disclose this to their caregiver, who would often be shocked and go through the motions of my gosh but I never thought I never suspected I never knew but golly it makes so much sense and that's why X, Y and Z happened and and and

All because there is such a social stigma around engaging with the reality that yes, actually, sex is part of the reality that disabled people inhabit, and just because you're reading them as an asexual child does not mean they are one.

I say all of this because every time a Problematic Man does some nonsense and plays neurodivergence as a defense, a legion of the most annoying level one autistic people look to protect the perception that they are ostensibly able-bodied by saying

"Well as an autistic man, I know what consent is."

Good for you, Mark! But a lot of people like us don't! And it leads to the most fucked up problems you've never had to deal with! But I do have to deal with them and if that remains the case for much longer, I'm going to become the fucking Joker!

The better response is: Neil Gaiman is not the kind of autistic person that doesn't know what consent is, or might misread signals like that. That he spent years covering up and lying about it indicates that he understands it was wrong, and that he would face consequences if discovered. His behaviour after being discovered also suggests the same. Additionally, we can see a clear understanding of consent in both his fiction and statements he has made previously. He is attempting to use autism as a cover, and in so doing, making the world more dangerous for the portion of autistic people who might really struggle to understand consent.

[outer-edges]

r/regretfulparents is my hellscape. i know most of them are just going through hard times and venting and probably don't actually regret it but like. i genuinely think motherhood would be my most awful prison. the whole sub is like the scariest horror game the internet has to offer for me.

[gremlingottoosilly]

I met a guy in the Summer (dilf!Konig x fem!Reader)

Your boyfriend is an asshole. Luckily, his hot dad just returned from deployment. CW and Tags: Cheating, dub-con, size kink, daddy kink, age gap(reader in 20s, Konig is early 40s), Konig is a pervert, slightly obsessive Konig, love(and lust) at first sight, fingering, dom!Konig Word count: 3713 AO3

“Just one more game, babe, don’t be a buzzkill. I don’t want to end at a loss.” You didn’t want to be a buzzkill, of course. You simply wanted to be a good girlfriend, have some domestically cozy date, and for your boyfriend to at least try to put an effort into being with you. It wasn’t much to ask for, really. You hoped so, at least. You didn’t want to be an annoying, nagging girlfriend who only ever waits for another reason to yell at him, but your patience started to run thin. 

You spend the past three hours either listening to his apathetic rambling about the shows he watched – really, you wanted to invest in stuff he liked, but an abnormally large amount of animes he talked about had 1000-year-old girls who looked like they were 10, wearing inappropriate outfits, and you started to raise the alarm. 

You also watched him play – and also listened to his rage quitting and angry voice messages to his team that, honestly, made you slightly anxious. You never liked loud people, people who were so easy to rage about something as silly as some colorful video game with too many characters to look after. 

So, like a good girlfriend would – you wanted to be a good girlfriend, he was such a nice guy before you started dating, and you need something to think about besides the tremendous amount of study work you are doing for college – you decided to go and look for snacks. Maybe bring something for him as well. 

— I’ll find something to eat, alright? 

He didn’t respond at first, so you shook his shoulder. Your boyfriend took off his headphones with annoying look on his face, half-turning to look at you. You gulped, suddenly feeling like a child in front of the principal – not a feeling that you were supposed to feel around your partner, but with him, you somehow constantly felt like you were being judged. 

— Nah, stay here. I don’t want my father to see you. 

— Ah…your father is at home? 

You never heard anyone else being at the house – big house, you must admit, and it’s embarrassing almost how you never thought about his family. He lives with his dad, apparently, and the depth of your relationships can only be judged by the fact you literally didn’t know what his father’s name was. 

— Returned from his fucking deployment. He’d ask too many questions about you. 

— You didn’t tell him about me? 

Ah, now you’re hurt a little bit. You knew it wasn’t anything serious or too committed yet, but you intended to make this work. To try and fix all the problems you can without ending things abruptly. 

— He never asked. Not like he cares too much, but…

An apathetic dad, huh. 

You started to slowly piece together the puzzle that was your boyfriend’s horrible boyfriend skills. Now, you want to meet the man who conceived him and kick him in the nuts for creating such an unlovable human being who somehow captivated your chronically lonely heart. 

— If you don’t want me to come and meet him, I can go home. 

He doesn’t answer because his queue is finally coming to another match – you simply nod, knowing everything you need to. You can grab a little snack for yourself, fuck off to your dorm and rethink your life choices while your roommate is getting pounded by some gruss British bloke with an accent that makes your ears bleed. 

You have dignity, and right now, it has asked you to get some snacks from the kitchen. 

*** Now, the only thing König wanted after returning from deployment was to take as many hot showers as he could, shut his bastard of a son up, and get some delicious food waiting for him in the freezer. He was already home for a few days, but adjusting is always hard when you basically fucking hate living at your own house. Of-fucking-course, his son was watching the house while he was away – and now he can’t even think of a good excuse to set him off to his mother. Too old to do this, and split custody never really worked when not even one part of the relationship wanted to take care of the kid. 

König closes the door of the refrigerator – of course, his son took every good thing that he stashed for himself. With a groan, the colonel fights the urge to finally throw him out of the house – a thing he needed to do a few years ago, just when he celebrated his 18th, but some sentimental part of his heart instead promised to help with finding a place close to the college. No good deed goes unpunished. 

With a groan, he takes a few steps from the fridge – and then he almost stumbles across an angel. 

Scheisse

Now, König never thought of himself as a predator who prefers running after college girls who might as well be his daughters. He never thought of himself as a gut who liked them young – his wife, god forsake her name, was his age when they started dating, and he hardly had any sexual encounters with a person under 25 in the past few years. Well, not like he had any sexual encounters in the past years, but…

The thing is – he never thought he liked girls with wide eyes, pouty faces, and trembling hands who were holding a bag of his cookies that he carefully stashed away from his son. 

You are wearing something cute, a nice skirt and an adorable pink cardigan that looks so cozy and warm and soft, and he fights the urge to grab your skirt and simply lift it, You’re dressed up for a cute coffee date, and König has to double check if he isn’t dreaming and no one has decided to play a prank on him and send him a cute callgirl. 

— Oh! Sorry. It’s yours, isn’t it? 

You give him his cookies back – but not before your fingers fished another salty caramel goodness out of the bag, and you bit it. He looks at your teeth, at your lips, and glimpses of your tongue – god, he is an old, dirty bastard because even his baggy pants aren’t enough to hide his boner. You have no right to look this pretty for a man who hasn’t seen a woman in three months and hasn’t had sex in the past few years. 

You lick the crumbs from your fingers – it’s such a deliberate action that he can’t believe he actually sees it, and it’s not even something from porn he used to like. 

— Ja. You can have it. 

He would give you the code to his bank account if you asked for it. 

— Thank you, sir. I’m…well, I assume if Paul didn’t introduce me to you…I’m his girlfriend. Nice to meet you. 

You lick your lips and take a step back, pressed against the counter. He looks at the sway of your hips, a bit of crumbs on your shirt, and almost brushes it away with his hands. It would be a good excuse to touch your chest – but he can’t be like this, he has to keep his urges under control, or else his son will never forgive him. 

Yeah, like he needs a better reason to throw his useless son from his home. 

— Girlfriend? He never spoke about you. 

You look sad, and he immediately curses under his breath. For a moment, you look too fragile – too real. He can’t handle this look on a woman, especially as pretty and young as you are. You bat your eyelashes, even involuntarily, and he already prepares to give you the keys to his home just so you’d stop with such miserable expressions. He has a spare bedroom. 

He has his bedroom with a bed that would be enough for both of you. 

— Ah. Um. We’re…I guess we’re not at this stage yet. 

— Knowing him, you’ll never be, Schatz. 

You look at him immediately – you’re offended, angry, and sad at the same time. There is a certain stubbornness in your eyes that immediately makes him want to simply scoop you in his arms, lift you, and drag you straight to the altar – and here he thought that his impulses over getting married would be over after his first divorce. 

— What do you mean by this, sir? 

You look uncertain now, he can see this in your eyes – and really, knowing his asshole of a child, he is almost sure that Paul never once got you off, either physically or emotionally. 

Now, König never once considered himself to be a good man. He has killed countless people, overthrown many governments, and made shitty jobs for shitty people way more than saving hostages to help the good guys – and in the romantic field, it’s even worse. Wife, unsatisfied with his controlling tendencies and inability to feel normal love for a human being – and a son who hates him because, in fact, he never once wanted to have a kid. 

He looks at you and sees a pretty young thing, still in college or freshly out of, probably without a stable job and normal social standing – a good girl won’t be with his son if she isn’t stupid or extremely desperate for a relationship. 

The thing is, König is also extremely desperate for another warm body next to his, to feel a woman beside him, to love and obsess over someone – he looks at your pouty lips and shaky hands, at the way you bite the corner of your glossy mouth, and he almost wants to drop you on this very table and fuck you until you’re crying under him. He can’t do just that, of course. It would probably make you extremely uncomfortable and scared, but…well, quite frankly, his son doesn’t deserve you. 

König is. 

— I won’t sugarcoat it, Schatz. My son is a Scheiß Arschloch…fucking asshole, that is. I’m surprised he brought home someone as cute as you. 

You feel embarrassment collecting in your body. Paul’s dad is a…interesting man. 

Tall, broad, very muscular – even his baggy house clothes aren’t really concealing his extremely interesting physique from your eyes. He looks yummy and tasty, and you fight the urge to eye the bulge in his pants because you’re a good girl, you don’t look at your boyfriend’s dad like this. 

König has greying ginger hair, locks already curling slightly at the lack of cutting, and you fight the urge to sit on the counter and get your palm in his scalp, massage his head gently, and pull him closer for a kiss. You feel like a dirty, horrible woman – your boyfriend is in his room, probably enjoying his time on your “date” while you’re lusting over his father. 

Then again, this date already felt like a disaster. This relationship, too. 

— Paul isn’t all that bad, sir. 

“He at least has a nice dick,” you wanted to add but stopped yourself. Paul is tall and somewhat strong – if he weren’t sitting at his computer all day, you would call him even muscular. And he has a nice dick, yes, even though he had no idea how to use it. You liked the idea of laying with him, of spraying your jaw trying to fit all of this in your mouth, but his kinks and his sex skills being directly taken from porn…not really your thing. 

You look at König and wonder if they are similar in all of the places. He is his father, after all. 

König catches your gaze locked on his bulge and smirks. 

God, if he knew his son had such a cute girl, he would ask her to come earlier. He is two weeks off deployment and probably won’t take another long contract for a few months because they just upped his retirement payings, and he can afford to slack off a little bit, only visiting the home base for some training and instructions for rookies. 

He can afford to retire and never worry about money again – but he needs someone to make his days less boring, right? 

You look like a good candidate. 

— I’m sure my son was convincing, but I know him better than anyone. He doesn’t deserve you, Schatz. 

He is shitty at flirting, it’s not his forte – he can flaunt his money, maybe, show you in his wallet and bank account face first. He can just straight up ask you to be his sugar baby and suck his cock instead of doing your studies, but he can’t flirt and manipulate to save his life. Lying isn’t something he is good for, this is why his wife has left. 

— I…not sure we should be having this conversation here. 

You’re a good girl, and it’s infuriating. He knows that having someone in his bed shouldn’t be the end goal for his leave, but he wants you, and by the look on your face, you aren’t opposed to the idea. König doesn’t understand if he likes that you’re so reserved about it or if he wants you to be a bit more slutty – but he captures you in the space between the kitchen counter and presses you with his body. 

— You want to see the bedroom then?

Pushes you so close his knee gets between your legs – it might look involuntary like he didn’t exactly want for it to be placed here, but you aren’t dumb, you know what he wants from you. Like a good fucking girl, you’re too shy to give it to him right about now. God, sometimes he hates being so nice to people around him. 

— Sir, this is very…

He got you caged in his hands, body trapped in his embrace – you jerk your head upwards a little bit, staring at him like a small bird in the hands of a predator. He isn’t a strong man in regard of morals, he doesn’t see anything wrong with fucking his son’s girlfriend – if the girl is up to it. And if she isn’t…well, he better make sure she is. 

— What is it, Schatz? Paul won’t hear us in his headphones.

You know just how wrong it is, and you almost want to escape – his dick grinds on your pelvis through his pants, and you’re horrified to see how big it is. Excited too, of course, he is bigger than your boyfriend ever could be, and you don’t want to be a slut, but, oh well, not like you were in a committed and serious relationship anyway. 

Paul was seeing your friends more than you ever saw them – it’s probably a sign that you should settle for someone older. You did enjoy Lana Del Rey's songs, after all. 

— I don’t want to break his heart. 

— He doesn’t have one. 

You’re lost when he pushes his lips to kiss you over and over again – a surprisingly good kisser, and you give in because it was the first time in forever a kiss made you feel this good. His lips are sending electricity down your spine, you want to moan just from his knee, pushing on the softness of your cunt through that adorable skirt you liked so much – you feel so small like this, so tiny in his hands, you…

God, you feel like a slut, and you like it. 

Soon enough, you answered the kiss, your lips meeting his in a dance that made you feel hot, that made you feel like your boyfriend never could. Never thinking of yourself as someone who can fall so easily into the hands of an older man, now you know that he got you right where he wanted. 

You push your hand on his pants, trying to get the control back – but he stops you, a giant hand enveloping your wrist and pushing you back. With a surprise on your face, König just wants to kiss you all over. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that you deserve way more than being fucked on the rough kitchen counter while your so-called boyfriend is too busy dickriding his friends in some useless online game. 

— Not now, princess. You deserve better than being fucked on the kitchen counter, ja? It can come later. 

“Later” sounds like a promise, and you bite back your moan when he keeps pushing his knee against your cunt, making you throb and clench on nothing. He is such a gentleman, you can’t help but compare him to his son – and his fabulous ability to make you feel dirty after fucking you in the backseat of his car and tossing you to your dorm with your pussy still wet and messy after you didn’t cum. 

You sob, not from sadness, but from pleasure mixed with some weird, unnatural for you emotions – you feel weird, strained here like this, but you hug his neck and whisper something in his ear. Something, dangerously sounding just like “daddy, please” 

König is blushing, and he looks fucking adorable. 

— Daddy, ja? God, you’re dangerous, liebling. Going to get me in trouble with my son later. 

He laughs when he kisses you again, his hand slipping in your panties only to find them completely soaked – he knows you deserve a nice pillow and soft sheets under your body, and he pushes you up so you can hug his waist with your legs. You rely on him like a cute pet, and you’re so perfect in his hands he curses himself for not seeing you before. 

He is going to ruin you for anyone but him. Put so much cum in you, it will make your tummy bulge – make you his precious sugar baby, pay for your dumb college and make you move to his bedroom instead of some shitty dorm you probably share with four other people. 

He can be good for you – but he will ruin you for anyone else, anyone appropriate, every guy your age who clearly doesn’t know how to treat a lady right. 

— So wet for me…such a filthy thing, I didn’t know my son dated a whore. 

— N…not a whore, please…

He kisses you on your forehead, silently apologizing. You feel his crooked, scarred smile, and you push your face up to kiss him – you want to touch him so badly it makes you feel stupid. 

— Sorry, Schatzen. Not a whore, a good girl for her daddy, ja? So nice for me, too fucking young…

— W…we really shouldn’t… — Tshhh, don’t think about it. Thinking will only hurt your pretty dumb head. — I’m not…

— Quiet, little one. Let daddy handle everything.

He kisses you over and over, his fingers playing with your pussy – meaty digits digging in your hole, making you whimper from sudden intrusion. He is big, bigger than anyone else, just two of his fingers are enough to spread you as much as normal cock would, and even though you’re used to taking Paul’s size, you just know that his dad would be much, much bigger. He is going to split you open, and you will love every fucking second. 

It feels so wrong, you still aren’t sure if you want him to touch you like this. 

It feels so right, he is experienced and eager, pushing every button to make you squirm in his grasp. Your orgasm comes embarrassingly quick – maybe because you haven’t gotten off in ages, only miserable masturbation sessions and poor attempts at faking your orgasm made it feel real. Paul never cared enough to actually get you off – but now…

You aren’t ready for him. You squirm in his grasp when the pressure becomes too much, and he soothes you, two fingers still buried in your soaked cunt. You feel so dirty, so wrong right now – you are cumming on the fingers of your boyfriend’s absent father, and you love every second of it. 

Post-orgasm clarity makes you whiny and sobby, and you whimper in his shoulder when he gently lifts you in his hands. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that he just scrambled your brain with that orgasm – it’s good, really, he might just want to keep your pretty head nice and empty for him. Not like you would ever need to think in his presence, the colonel can handle everything in- and out- of bed. 

König holds you close, not allowing you to scramble away no matter how embarrassed you are. You are his precious thing, with a pouty face, and he will do everything in his power to make you squirm on his fingers again and again before he makes you his wife for good. 

So impulsive, maybe this is why his son is such an asshole – taking the worst traits of his father. 

— Don’t cry, Schatzen. You’re okay, it felt good, didn’t it? 

— W…we shouldn’t have. Shit. I’m sorry, it was a m…god, I need to tell Paul. 

— I’ll tell him. 

— No! — I will tell my asshole of a son that you’re my girl now, ja? And then I will take you to the bedroom, so we can fuck. 

— I need to return to my dorm. 

— And then I will dine you properly, okay? Sorry, Liebling, I know I should court you before all of this…but we can afford to go a bit off board, ja? 

He is smiling, so smitten and obsessed over just having you cum on his fingers once – you don’t have the heart to say no. Never did. You’re a good, proper girl, and Paul was never treating you right anyway. You feel dirty, yes, but somehow, it is almost right. 

He peppers your face with kisses, like a dog lapping its tongue all over your skin – you’re so concentrated on the warmth of his strong, seasoned body that you don’t even look in the direction of the doorway to the kitchen. 

Paul, however, looks straight at you, disheartened and shocked. 

— W…what the fuck, dad?! König laughs, kissing you once again – deep, hot, with tongue and loud, sloppy sounds of your mouth pressing into one another. You’re stuck in place, still caged in his arms like a precious little pet you are. 

— She’ll make a good step mom, ja? 

You don’t even register his hands slowly caressing your fingers as if he already tries to check the ring sizes. 

[bonsubear]

Reader loves Invincible but hates Mark┃Mark/Invincible x Fangirl! Reader ┃#1

Hi, I haven’t written fanfiction for a hot minute so I’m terribly rusty. So, if this isn’t coherent oops. Also, if Mark is OOC just close one eye and keep reading hehe.

Inspired by @/tiramissyoucake and the anonymous asker who requested a short story of Reader hating Mark but loving Invincible!!! I like that idea very much so I’m stealing it for a moment >:)

#1, #2

WC: 1.6k

He should probably feel annoyed about the fact that this girl in his biology class seems to hate him with each fiber of her being for no reason—her eyes always hard with disdain and her mouth quick to shoot an insult whenever he did an action or said something she didn't like (which was basically anything, even breathing) but oddly enough, he didn’t.

She had transferred to his school before his powers kicked in and before his superhero alter ego, Invincible, was born. She was in a couple of his classes besides biology. On some occasion his eyes couldn’t help drifting to her, noting one or two things about her.

From what Mark could tell, she was quiet and kept to herself. You’d think that she was a hard-working student who was diligently taking notes with how she would pretend to type something important on her laptop, but he always quietly chuckled at the sight of her on some shady website reading an obscure comic.

He would quite literally watch her browse through comics with long titles and choose the most outrageous plot then shift her laptop away from the direction of other students as if people (aka him) behind her couldn’t clearly see what she was doing.

Oh, and in English class she would tuck her air pods in her ears and try to cover them with her hair—playing some sort of audio book or a YouTube video. Even though she would try and hide her reactions, Mark could tell whenever something amusing happened. The small quirk of her lips, how fast she would twirl her hair, and the slight sway of her body as she stared blanky at empty air while listening intently.

Also, you were a fan of shopping for clothes and accessories. Nearly every day he would notice a brand-new item or piece of clothing on her. It could be a new, shiny necklace that fits perfectly on her chest or a new jacket that was too neat to be old. She also shopped for cosmetics like perfume that smelled differently from the last and a new subtle shade of lipstick that was applied perfectly on her lips.

Though her spending habits didn’t go well with her checking account. Mark caught the girl pouting multiple times looking at her bank account that was a little bit too low for anyone’s liking, refreshing the screen as if the number would change.

...

Okay, maybe he took note of a little bit more than one or two things. Whatever, sue him.  

But for some unexplained reason, this girl had serious hatred toward him. The type of hatred you’d think Mark did something absolutely horrible. Like, shooting her childhood pet or punching her elderly grandmother.

He never did any of those things or anything else. However, he must've done something to piss her off at some point to declare him public enemy #1.

“I’m going to throw acid at your face and make you blind if you don’t stop staring at me.”

“Nerds are usually smart, thanks for going against the stereotype.”

“I went to Loserville and the residents told me you were the mayor.”  

“Wow, you killed that, Mark! … Next time make it yourself.”

It was insult after insult every time he interacted with her.

“Dude, why do you keep trying to talk to her? It ends the same way every time.” William deadpanned after he witnessed yet another verbal attack on Mark, you walking away without sparing a single glance back. “Don’t tell me your one of those guys who get off on that sort of thing.”

“No! No! Why would you suggest that?”

“You’re seriously asking me that?” He flatly replied, raising his brow. “That girl clearly hates your guts! Yet everyday you try to talk to her as if she didn’t tell you to kill yourself the other day.”

“Eh, more like every day.”

“See! Hates you!”

“Your right, William. I’ll stop trying to be friends with her…”

“Atta boy!”

“… soon.”

“Come on, man!”

Then, when Mark’s powers kicked in and he became Invincible—he got busy and stopped trying to talk to you. Not that he lost interest didn't want to get to know you, but so much things were happening.

His eyes still wandered to you in class, noticing that your hair looked different so that must mean you went to another shopping spree and got a new shampoo or conditioner and other things—but Mark was busy trying to be the best he could be so interactions with you stopped.

That was until he saved your life during an attack as Invincible.

Holding the civilian in his arms tightly as he landed down, small bits of debris on his shoulders as he let out a small huff, he shifted his gaze around to see if any other civilians needed his attention. “It was a good thing I caught you in time.” Mark smiled, his eyes blinking behind his goggles as he looked down at the person he was holding in his arms.

His eyes widened in shock (though you couldn’t tell because of the goggles) when he realized who he had just saved.

Holy shit, it’s you.

And fuck, why were you staring at him so cute? Your eyes that would stare at him with hatred were instead filled with adoration and admiration as your hands were basically trembling holding your phone to your chest.

“I—uh—wow—um,” His voice was caught in his throat, his breath hitching as he wasn’t used to this type of look on you. You stared at him like he was the only thing that mattered in the whole world, and Mark could feel his stomach flip flop as he averted his gaze. “Are, are you hurt?” He squeezed the words out his throat, looking back at your wide eyes that were still filled with that adoration.

“Yes! Yes! I’m perfectly fine now, Invincible! Thank you so much!” You happily yelped, suddenly wrapping your arms around his neck. You squeezed tight, practically burying your face as if he was oxygen and you were trying to fill your lungs.

The scent of your shampoo filled his nose, and he recognized that it was the same one you used on Tuesday. It smelled good.

Play it cool, play it cool.

“N-No problem, citizen!”

“You’re the best Invincible, thank you so much! Thank you!’ You pulled away from the grip you had on his neck, “I’m going to follow you home!”

“What?”

“I-I mean, I’m so indebted to you!” You squealed like a fangirl. Your cheeks were flushed a pretty pink, your whole body shaking from not the adrenaline of almost being killed but instead because of the excitement of Invincible holding you. “Ever since you made your debut as a hero, I’ve been such a huge fan of yours! And now you’re here and y-you saved me!”

… You’re a fan?

He carefully let you down on the floor, your legs catching yourself as he turned around to hide the fact that his cheeks were burning a deep shade of red. “Please, uh, evacuate! It’s not safe in this area—I have to go, s-sorry."

“Anything for you! Stay safe Invincible!”

And anything for him indeed because after that day, you were always decked out in school with some sort of Invincible merchandise attached to you. Keychains, stickers, shirts, nails themed after his suit, and more. Jesus, you even changed the wallpaper on your phone and laptop to pictures of him!

“Wow, you really like that Invincible guy.” Will whistled, pointing out the chibi Invincible phone charm that was attached to your phone case.

“Of course I do! He’s the best hero ever. The coolest guy and the most handsomest!” You whipped around, bursting in happiness at the mention of Invincible. “You would be an idiot not to like him.” You eyed Mark at the ‘idiot’ part, before turning back to Will. “I always liked him when he first appeared on the news, but oh my fucking God after he saved my life, I had to make my love for him public!”

“W-What does that mean?” Mark asked, intrigued.

“What it fucking means, dipshit. It’s obvious.” You hissed, turning to him, “What fan doesn’t have a shrine to their idol? Their one and only? Are you stupid?”

That was not obvious—wait shrine?

“I have photographs of him, official and fan made merch, posters—everything! He’s basically my husband at this point.” You swayed in your seat, your cheeks turning pink with how you were shamelessly gushing about him. You continued to ramble as Mark Grayson stared in disbelief, the girl who hates him loves him at the same time.

You love Invincible but hate Mark.

That made Mark feel… weird. There were butterflies in his stomach as he continued to stare at you and his chest felt a little heavy. He was upset, but not at you—which is odd because it should be towards you—but instead toward himself? Towards Invincible that you were so excited at the thought of his superhero alter ego instead of him.

Was he jealous... of himself?

"How much do you like him?" Mark asked quietly, tilting his head.

"I'll let him crack me open." You sighed dreamily without a second of hesitation, and Mark choked on his spit as soon as he heard that. "Also, correct yourself—I don't just like him, I love him. Now, go away and stop bothering me, loser." You turned around in your seat before he could say that Will was the one to bother you first, not him.

He continued to stare at the back of your head, dumbfounded at how you were a big Invincible fan. A big fan of him.

The urge to turn you around and tell you that he was Invincible was strong. Not because he wanted to rub it in your face that the guy you actively hate on was actually your favorite superhero but because he wanted you to stare at him with those big eyes of adoration toward Mark Grayson, not Invincible.

...

Jesus, what was wrong with him?

This is kinda bad but uh, I tried :P Goodnight I have to wake up at 6 am dfjndfnsj

[cutebat]

You know what, fuck it. I'm going to write my own neglectful yandere batfamily cause everyone else is doing it, but I'm going to do it in a different way.

Yandere Batfam x Neglected, but Defiant Reader

Prologue (Diary Entry)

Warning(s): Mentions of yandere themes, neglect, emotional abuse, mentions of physical abuse, forcing to drop out, attempted guilt tripping, reader is just venting out her feelings

(I made this in the reader's POV to make the whole 'diary entry' thing more sense.)

~~~~~

July 22, 2024

It's funny when someone tells their story.

Only to be told back that it's unrealistic.

Almost as if they're afraid to believe it's real...

Oh, God, that sounded dark.

~~~~~

For everyone who doesn't know,

Bruce is a billionaire who's also a shitty dad

Dick is a dick, like actually

Jason uses his trauma to let all his frustrations on me

Tim is a delusional bitch

Cass was okay until she knocked me to the ground

Damian is just a thing who you want to burn to ashes

Alfred... I guess is just Alfred

~~~~~

I was basically raised as what people would call a 'black sheep'. Kind of like... actually, I don't need to explain all that.

Basically, I was adopted by the infamous Bruce Wayne when I was ten for whatever reason. After the first day of living with him and the family and giving me the new role of Batgirl, everyone just pretended as if I didn't exist.

I tried to interact with every one of them and all I got were "sorry, can't talk right now" and "can you shut up".

Like, WHAT THE FUCK DID I DO TO THEM?!

Is it because I'm prettier than all of them and had barely any trauma in my past? Seriously, why are people so jealous about these kinds of things?

Bruce really signed all that paperwork for nothing.

Of course, my little ten year old brain would think that if I tried to impress all of them with what I could do, maybe I could gain their attention.

So by the time I was twelve with my ten year old mindset goal in my head, I did nine different after school activities, won over fifteen awards for my achievements, and went out to patrol at least six nights a week.

And none of that worked! Those fuckers wouldn't even spare me a glance!

~~~~~

After a while, you don't see a point in trying your best.

I dropped out of most of the clubs I regret joining, I just laid back in my classes, and most of all...

I quit being Batgirl.

I didn't want to, but like I said, where's the point in that?

So with that, I just gave up on everything and just... stopped trying.

~~~~~

But then one year all of that almost changed?

For the first time ever, I found myself suddenly really pretty, and after a month I entered eighth grade, I was suddenly asked out by one guy, then two, and all the way up to ten!

It was like really cool!

The popular girls became my best friends, more guys would ask me out, and the teachers started pointing out that I was their favorite student, even the ones who weren't my teachers.

It felt like I was on top of everything. That I was special. The world is revolving around me.

Finally, I was in a place to build a great reputation.

And then life was like FUCK THAT!

~~~~~

After the first semester of eighth grade, Bruce was weirdly in my room and he said wanted to have a 'talk' with me.

So, during this talk, he was basically talking about the last three years of me being neglected by him and his family. To be honest, I forgot everything he told me, but honestly, I don't really care.

He also told the others about all this and now they suddenly feel bad which I don't give a shit about. But, I knew he was doing all this to guilt trip me, which was honestly so stupid.

Now, after he dropped that bomb, he told me that I had to drop out of school to do some "bonding time" with the others along with him and the people who actually cared about me didn't really matter at all!

I JUST GOT SETTLED IN!

All I said was "FUCK YOU" and just stormed out of my room with the only thing that I took was my diary that I had for quite a while that I never used before.

~~~~~

So, yeah. I'm currently in the attic, venting my feelings all out on this stupid glitter diary with a random pen that I found on the ground.

But whatever.

It doesn't matter.

Nothing matters...

My life is just a game.

A sick, hopeless game.

[mokulule]

A Man has Needs part 3

First

Fandom: DP x DC Ship: Dead on Main (Jason/Danny) Summary: In which Jason keeps up ending up in Danny's bed and not even for any fun reasons.

Part 3

Daniel James Fenton, 20 years old, born and raised in Amity Park, Illinois. Graduated high school with barely passing grades. Currently enrolled in Gotham U’s aerospace engineering program, with (ironically) a Wayne Foundation scholarship of a type that was reliant on entrance exam test results rather than high school grades. Either his high school teachers hated him or he spent the gap year studying his ass off to ace the exams.

At least it explained what he was doing in Gotham of all places, Jason thought as he leaned on the kitchen island chin in his hand, laptop open in front of him. The WF scholarships for Gotham U were very good, yet still most people had the sense not to move to Gotham - and Crime Alley at that.

Him being from the Midwest might even explain some of the strange hospitality, though Jason felt he probably took it a level above most people.

Of family there was an older sister - like he’d mentioned. Jasmine Fenton was currently doing a PhD in the field of Psychology.

The parents, Jack and Madeline Fenton had doctorates of their own, though what little he could find published from them was from very disreputable paranormal sort of publications. They seemed to have very little basis for their theories - one of which was that ghosts were inherently evil - which was just absolute hogwash. They apparently lived off the payout of some early inventions they’d made and sold to the government.

Beyond that there was only an aunt.

Friends were much harder to judge. Danny’s social media presence was practically non-existent. He’d only just opened an account on Mugshot, Gotham’s favored social, this Monday, apparently due to encouragement from new Gotham U friends.

Jason absently drummed his fingers on the counter, as he stared unseeingly towards his laptop. Maybe Tim or Babs could find more, but Jason found himself reluctant to involve them, they would want to know why he was looking into the guy, they would want a reason to dig deeper than the basic background check Jason had already done.

Jason could not- would not, tell them about this… attraction? Jason rubbed his face tiredly. Attraction was a terrible word, that implied other things, but it was the best he had.

The oven timer had the kindness to beep then, signifying that batch of cookies was done, and distracting him for a few minutes as he transferred them to the cooling rack and got another plate going.

It was a limited reprieve however and all too soon he was back in front of his laptop. He had no other avenues, there really was only one thing to do.

Oo o oO

“We need to talk.” He flung the words out the moment a surprised Danny opened the door. The surprise however quickly gave way to a grimace as he registered the words.

“Do we have to?” Danny asked honest pleading in his voice.

Jason felt really tempted to say no, but forced himself to say “yes.”

“Okay,” Danny sighed, leaving the door open for Jason to step inside.

Jason closed the door after himself and felt his shoulders relax from their tense position and his breath come out in a relieved sigh. Safe.

He looked to Danny who wrung his hands.

Jason had meant to say something, ask something, he’d had a plan. He wanted answers. Answers… Jason opened his mouth, sound getting stuck in his throat. Just ask him what was going on? But what did it really matter?

“Ah! Please don’t say anything,” Danny interrupted Jason’s internal struggle. “I have been trying so hard not to make this awkward.”

Jason grimaced when he saw how uncomfortable Danny looked. Jason was making him uncomfortable.

“Okay look,” Danny took a deep breath and held up his hands, and looked at Jason with his big blue eyes, “will you please, just let me start, and if you really feel like you need to say something you can do so afterwards, yeah? Though it’s really not necessary.”

“Okay,” Jason managed mouth dry.

“I don’t know how to make this not awkward, but here goes, it’s okay.”

“Okay?” Jason reiterated brows raising in confusion.

“Yes, it’s okay, truly. Fuck, how would Jazz say it,” Danny looked thoughtful for a moment before meeting Jason’s eyes again. “You have needs, and that is okay.”

Jason frowned bewildered and alarmed. Needs?

Seeing Jason’s frown Danny unfortunately rambled, “I know it’s not exactly socially normal no matter which way you look at it, but it’s fine. I have a big bed, truly it’s fine. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, or apologize-“

Overwhelmed, Jason held up his bag of cookies and Danny thankfully stopped talking.

“Coffee?” Danny croaked after a moment’s silence.

“Please,” Jason agreed.

Five minutes later they sat at Danny’s small table a plate of cookies between them, looking down at their steaming coffee, awkwardly avoiding looking at each other.

Jason didn’t know what to think. Had he gotten any information out of this? Needs… Jason had needs, and those let him to Danny’s bed? He cringed away from the thought.

Across from him, Danny poked the handle of his cup. “Can we just pretend this conversation didn’t happen?”

Maybe Danny had the right of it. For both their sanities, maybe that was best. Aside from his confusion, Jason had felt better after both times he’d slept at Danny’s. Would it be so bad to, just for once in his life, not question things? Jason was unsure how much of this was his brain being muddled in Danny’s presence, but he agreed with a nod, and took a sip of coffee.

Oo o oO

Danny wanted to scream. He had made such a mess of things! All his good intentions and he’d gone and made things awkward anyways. It was a relief his guest was willing to just go with it after all.

And, Danny lamented, his guest had even spoken earlier today, like in a full sentence and now they were back at single words or nonverbal. Poor guy. It had to be so uncomfortable to wake up in a stranger’s bed. If only Danny had an easy way to give him straight ectoplasm, but then that might actually overwork his starved core and make everything worse. The slow absorption of Danny’s ambient energy, probably was best for him.

Half still lost in thought he took a cookie and promptly groaned in pleaures, it was perfect and there was no way he could keep his train of thought. It was crisp on outside and chewy in the middle, and the chocolate bits were so rich.

“You made these?” Danny exclaimed between heavenly bites and was rewarded with a quick shy smile and a glance of blue-green eyes. Fuck, why did Danny’s guest have to be both hot and cute? Life was so unfair.

But it seemed the ice had finally broken, and they were back to something comfortable.

Oo o oO

Later in his own apartment, Jason tried once again to make sense of things.

Facts. Jason woke up in Danny’s bed twice, it was likely to happen again.

Apparently Jason had needs. He shuddered at the thought, because what did that mean? But in a twisted way it also made sense, because he had woken up twice in that man’s bed through no conscious decision of his own. There was something about Danny that drew Jason to him and while it was kinda freaking him out, it was also kinda not. Which in itself was freaking him out if he allowed himself to think about it.

But another fact was that Jason felt better, lighter somehow, than… actually he didn’t really remember when he’d last felt so good. Maybe he really had just needed some proper sleep?

And Danny himself?

Jason had no idea what his deal was. It was very odd how accepting he was of the situation - he’d said it himself, this wasn’t socially normal no matter how you looked at it.

He was clearly not normal no matter how you looked at it. But neither was Jason really.

-

And this is the end of part 3.

They almost talked? They gotta get props for trying right?

You can subscribe at the masterpost

Next

[petertingle-yipyip]

SENSES - JOAQUIN TORRES

(will probably change the gif when i can find a better one of him in that suit. also, testing the waters with a new character bc @fallingfavourites basically dared me to. what do we think?)

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x Reader // Word Count: 2,840

Summary: What was supposed to be a simple in and out ends up with a lot of blood and admissions.

“The gala’s an easy in.” You reasoned.

“It’s a stupid way in.” Sam shook his head.

“It’s not stupid!”

“We can admit it’s a risk, right?” Bucky tried.

You blew out a sigh and leaned further back in your chair. Sam sat in the chair closest, leaning elbows on the table in thought. Bucky was sitting on the edge of the table across from you with the permanent frown he seemed to point in your direction.

“We need the ledger.” You calmly stated. “I have an invitation to their building. They’ve been inviting my family to their events for years trying to win back my mom’s money. I have the best chance at getting in and out.”

“If we go along with this, you’re not going alone.” Sam continued.

“Course not. I’d never go to an event like that without a date.”

“This is serious, Y/N.” Bucky scolded.

“Well aware, thank you.” You rolled your eyes. “I’m not going with either of you. My mom would never let me.”

“Your mom’s not here.”

“But these people know my mother. We went to a couple

of these before she got tired of the ass kissing. I had a date each time with a specific image.”

“What kind of image?” Sam asked though Bucky simply groaned in annoyance.

“Pretty boy.” You shrugged.

“Oh.” Sam scoffed. “I’m not pretty enough for you mom?”

“No.” You laughed. “Neither of you are, but…”

“Don’t say it.” Bucky pointed firmly at you. “He’s not going.”

“I don’t like this anymore than you, Barnes.” You snapped. “You really think I want to take him anywhere?”

“What ever happened between you two anyway?” Sam asked so you turned his way with a fierce glare. “Just asking.” His hands went up in surrender.

“He didn’t tell you?” You stared in suspicion.

“For once, the kid wouldn’t talk.” Bucky answered.

“He’s not a kid.”

“You both are.”

“Buck’s right.” Sam chimed in. “You two used to not be able to stop making eyes at each other then suddenly, you’re avoiding each other like the plague.”

“It doesn’t matter.” You pushed yourself to stand. “I’m bringing him, regardless of anyone’s feelings about it.”

“And if he says no?” Bucky asked.

You frowned at the valid question. If Joaquin said no, you didn’t have a backup plan ready. Instead of confessing that, you spun on your heel and headed to find your former flame.

It wasn’t hard. He was at his computers. You stood beside him and leaned against the edge of his desk. It took a minute for him to register that it was you beside him.

“Hey.” He said carefully. You watched his eyes scan your face quickly before he frowned. “Everything good?”

“You have a suit?” You asked.

“Like a… Like a suit suit?” His voice dropped to a hushed tone.

“No.” You rolled your eyes with a small smile. You quickly shook the expression. “Like a nice suit, for going out.”

“Oh… Yeah, I’ve got one somewhere. Why?”

“We’re going to a gala to take a ledger.” You shrugged.

“Why us?” His brows furrowed but you noticed there was no objection.

“My family has an invite and you clean up nice… You can say no.”

“No!” He said quickly and you raised a brow. “I mean… No, it’s not that I don’t want to. I just kinda figured you’d wanna take someone else.” He explained carefully.

“Unfortunately, no one else fits the bill.” You sighed. 

“You never know.” He shrugged slightly. “Might be fun… Kinda like old times, right?”

“We’ll see… Tomorrow night, be ready by five to head to New York.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He grinned at you, the same damned grin that made your heart beat a little faster.

You had to force your features to remain neutral until you were sure he couldn’t see. You assumed he had seen the flush of your cheeks at the least and you cursed yourself for that.

You hated that you and him didn’t end on necessarily bad terms. You two just couldn’t make it work. Both of you were too focused on other things to truly be present

in your relationship so for all the “moon eyes” Sam swore he saw and the “lost puppy looks” Bucky teased you about, it just hadn’t gone the way you wanted.

But damn it all if you didn’t wish otherwise. Keeping

distance from him was what you thought was best so you both could move on. Your heart, however, didn’t seem to get the memo.

The night of the gala was relatively predictable. Joaquin dawned an all-black ensemble that had you in silent awe when you first saw him. You knew he could dress up when the occasion called for it, but something about the monochrome look hit you hard. You forced yourself

to focus.

Joaquin, however, didn’t hide the way he was blown away by your look. The perfectly tailored gown took his breath away. He couldn’t stop himself from trailing his eyes up and down your figure, tracing the lines of the bodice down to the shape of your hips to that teasingly

high slit in the skirt, which dangerously showed off your legs that looked even longer with the heels you wore.

He didn’t have words for the way the color suited your skin tone, the complimentary tones of your makeup, the delicate pinned style of your hair. He ran a hand over his mouth to hide the smile at the necklace around your throat, the one he had given you for your birthday when you were together.

Sam was waiting with Joaquin and the man let out a long whistle that snapped Joaquin out of his trance.

You laughed slightly before flipping your teammate off.

“Ha ha.” You said sarcastically. “I’ll have you know my mother designed this dress.”

“It’s nice.” Joaquin offered honestly. “You look…” He blew out a breath. “Wow.”

“Thanks.” You nodded slightly, fiddling with the fabric of the skirt. “You look good, too.” You confessed.

He smiled proudly and it was hard not to smile back.

“Alright, alright. Enough of that.” Sam laughed slightly. “Tonight you need to have each others backs, got it? None of this scorned lovers bullshit you pull around here.”

“No one is scorned.” You rolled your eyes. “We’re going to a gala, not infiltrating an enemy stronghold.”

“You kinda are.” Sam countered. “Be quick and be careful. Sooner you guys are back, sooner this is over.”

“Well aware, thank you.” You took hold of Joaquin’s arm and dragged him to the car.

The ride to the event was relatively quiet. The music from the stereo filled the gaps and you were thankful to be driving so you could focus on the road rather than the man in the car with you. Your fingers tapped to the music while Joaquin was playing on his phone.

The gala itself was the same as you remembered. Your arm laced through Joaquin’s, you two fell into an easy stride. You liked the confidence he showed, offering a welcome grin to the people who came to kiss up to you and engaging in conversations when prompted.

“I like this one.” One of the older female investors quietly told you with a sly smile while her husband chatted with Joaquin a few feet away about something you weren’t listening to. “He’s much better than the rest you’ve brought to these things.”

You smiled in agreement and looked over at your date. He waved slightly and you found yourself returning the gesture.

“He’s great.” You agreed, trying unsuccessfully to keep the sadness from your voice.

“Let me guess.” She put a hand over yours. “Mommy doesn’t approve?”

You forced a laugh as if you’d been caught. You hadn’t even considered what your mother would say about Joaquin. She’d probably love him, probably would’ve started dishing out down-payments for your wedding by now.

“My father hated my husband when I brought him home.” The woman laughed. “Destiny used to seem make-believe, but you’re destined for fall. You can’t choose who it is, and neither can your mother.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You nodded in thanks and made it back to Joaquin. You tucked yourself into his side and looked to the man he spoke with. “I hate to be rude, but I’d like to reclaim my date.”

“By all means.” The man gestured for you to go. “He’s a charming young man. Well done, Ms. Y/L/N.”

You nodded in thanks and pulled Joaquin away.

“You know, I think I’m getting the hang of this whole ‘rich people party’ thing.” Joaquin said proudly, tugging the front of his jacket slightly.

“Cool it, Casanova.” You laughed slightly. “We’re not here to network.”

“Right.” He nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. So… Where do we go now?”

You two managed to sneak away relatively quickly. You searched various offices, going up and up in floors until you nearly gave up. It was practically the last office on the last floor when Joaquin found it wedged behind a bookcase.

“I could kiss you!” You said happily.

He flushed immediately, stammering for a real response, and you had to laugh. You hugged the book and went for the exit.

You had only a split second to regret that decision. Not enough time for you to recognize the threat, to register the flash of silver, to reach for your own blade in your corset.

A sharp pain ignited in a long line down your back. The burning sensation wrapped from your back, around your waist and stopped near your belly button. You looked down in shock and saw the split in your gown, the growing stain of blood.

You wobbled on your feet from the explosion of pain and felt a strong pair of arms catch you. A warm piece of fabric was draped over your shoulders and pulled close. The hand that wasn’t locked on the ledger was wrapped around your midsection, trying to keep the blood inside your body.

That sword almost cut you in half.

You didn’t even register he was talking to you until he shook your shoulders.

“Y/N, we need to move. Can you walk?” He asked firmly.

Any hint of the charming, flirty man you masqueraded with was gone. In his place was the battle trained soldier, looking out for his own. He was looking into your eyes, and your heart sank at the worry reflected.

It really was bad.

“You’re not dying here. Understand?” He insisted.

You managed a weak nod and followed him out. He managed to keep you two in the shadows for the most part, avoiding the brunt of the search for you. You had only encountered three men, thankful they didn’t have swords as well, and you used the ledger to knock one of them out while Joaquin managed against the other two.

When you came back to the gala, Joaquin did the talking. He said you two were heading out for a much funner night but you’d sing their praises to your mother. A few name drops and handshakes later, Joaquin was able to get you into the car and begin the drive back.

Maybe an hour into the drive, you began to slip in and out of consciousness.

He reached over and immediately took your hand in his. He gave it a squeeze and your eyes opened a little wider.

“Stay with me, Y/N… C’mon.” He begged.

“We need to… to stop somewhere.” You said between shallow breaths. The bleeding had slowed but you were left exhausted and cold, despite Joaquin’s jacket still over your shoulders, and you had kicked off your heels at some point. You had half a thought to ask if you had bled through it. “We can’t drive… all the… all the way back…  like this.”

“Where are we gonna stop?” His voice was near desperation and you couldn’t stop the pang of guilt.

“Anywhere.” You gritted your teeth as you shifted in the seat. You took as deep a breath as you could manage and rapidly spoke in one long exhale. “First hotel you see. I don’t care the price or the quality or the size. You find us a room and make sure I live through this night.”

He said nothing but squeezed your hand again.

You didn’t know how long it was until you were pulling into a run down roadside hotel. You rummaged through your purse for your credit card and shoved it at him. He promised he’d be quick before locking you in the car.

True to his word, he was at your door with a room key quickly. He practically carried you to the hotel room.

Once the door closed, you all but collapsed. He was quick to catch you, but he wasn’t able to avoid your injury. You cried out at the pain, gripping his shirt sleeve.

He helped you to the bathroom and you needed his help to get the dress off. You didn’t know if it was his hands shaking or your body. The dress fell with a thud, leaving you in short spandex and a bra. Joaquin ran the tap and used one of the towels to clear the blood away. The friction of the rough fabric against the tender skin had you gripping the sink and wincing sharply.

“Shit, Y/N.” He muttered. You glanced up to meet his eyes in the mirror.

“That bad?” You rasped. Your body weight was mostly supported by the countertop.

“Now would be a great time for some special healing ability.” He flicked his attention to you with a nervous smile. “Any chance?”

“No.” You offered the same smile. “My bag in the trunk… It has a kit if you…”

“Hey.” His hands found your hips and turned you around. “Stay with me.”

“Trying…”

“Try harder.”

You nodded quietly, placing a hand on his arm. He looked down at it, smiled to himself, then focused on the slash across your stomach.

“Keep talking.” Your voice was close to a whisper but somehow, Joaquin heard.

“I, uh…” He began nervously. “I used to think you’d come to your senses, but you never did. You left me alone with all these questions… I didn't have answers but I also couldn’t have given you more.”

He squeezed your hip slightly and you made a noise of acknowledgement.

“I guess I accepted that you wouldn’t be mine again but…”

“But?” You croaked.

“I’ll always be yours, Y/N.”

You chuckled slightly as Joaquin’s eyes met yours.

“Tell me that when I’m coherent.” You smiled slightly.

He laughed a bit and nodded. “Let’s dress these wounds and get you something to eat. The guys’ll be pissed if you don’t make it back.”

You hummed in agreement and leaned into him. He guided you to the bed and sat you on the edge before he scurried off. Within five minutes, he was back with your pack on his shoulders and an arm full of vending machine treats.

He shoved an orange juice bottle and packet of pretzels into your hands while he rummaged in your pack. You lifted your arms while he placed, wrapped, and taped the dressing into place. The pain had dulled since you first got the wound or maybe you were used to it. The dizziness was receding slowly thanks to the snack Joaquin brought, which were both empty by the time he finished.

“Thank you.” You dropped the trash to the end table.

“I’m always here for you, Y/N, whether you want it or not.” He put a hand to your cheek for a moment.

“Joaquin, I…” You began, then found yourself lost for words.

There were things you could apologize for. But should you apologize for breaking up with him? For avoiding him? For getting yourself nearly sliced in half?

“We can talk about it later.” He offered kindly. “You feel okay?”

“All things considered, yeah… I’ll make it.”

“Good.” The relief was palpable in his tone. “You should rest now.”

You nodded quietly and shifted back against the flat pillow. The blanket was thin and scratchy, but the exhaustion overruled the quality of the bedding. You were lucid enough, however, to notice Joaquin wasn’t lying down.

“Joaquin?”

“The couch pulls out.” He reasoned.

“You should have the bed.” You began to push yourself up but his hands were gently forcing you back down. “Let me-“

“You almost bled out tonight. I think you deserve the bed.”

You grabbed one of his hands. “We can share. We’ve done it before.”

“You sure?”

“Please?” You pulled your best pout and he broke almost immediately.

He discarded his dress shirt and slacks before climbing into the bed beside you. You rolled to your other side to face him.

“Maybe it’s the near death experience talking…” You said quietly, as if you two were sharing secrets. “But I think I’ve come to my senses.”

“Yeah?” He brushed some loose hairs off your forehead. “Tell me in the morning.”

[unclewaynemunson]

“I need to tell you something.”

Shitfuckno. Eddie doesn't even know why he's still surprised. This is how it always goes, after all. He should probably just give up and stop dating altogether – again.

Steve looks at him exactly as ominously as the words I need to tell you something require. Perfect Steve. Funny Steve. Sweet Steve. Sexy Steve. Steve, who Eddie had genuinely believed to be different.

Eddie sighs, barely suppressing a dark chuckle while he turns away from that perfect face. He doesn't want to look at Steve when he'll tell him the undoubtedly messed-up shit he's about to spill.

“Lemme guess, you're married?” That was what the last guy he dated told him, seven months after they got to know each other. It can't be much worse than that, can it?

Steve grabs Eddie's hand, causing him to involuntarily jerk up his head and meet his eyes.

“How did you know?”

Jesus H. Christ. Not again.

Eddie roughly pulls his hand out of Steve's grip and laughs a joyless laugh.

“Apparently I'm a good guesser.”

He stands up from the park bench the two of them had been sharing. “Well, Steve, this has been a blast. You should go back to your wife, or husband – don't tell me, I don't even wanna know – and I should um, get going. Maybe tell the next person right away what they'll be getting themselves into. Would save them a lot of wasted time, just in case cheating and going around other people's backs isn't really their thing, y'know.”

“Eddie, wait, let me explain!”

Eddie picks up his pace, but Steve, stubborn as he is, easily keeps up with him.

“I'm really not interested, man.”

“It's not – I'm not cheating on her!”

“Okay, so you have an open marriage, good for you. Still the kind of information you could've shared with me, say, three months ago, don't you think?”

“She's a lesbian.”

And that makes Eddie freeze on the spot. It takes Steve two steps before he realizes Eddie has stopped moving; he walks backwards until he's standing right in front of Eddie.

“She's my best friend,” he says, immediately using Eddie's stunned silence to his advantage. “Robin, my roommate – I told you all about her. We wanted to buy a house together and that turned out to be very complicated when you're not... Well, when you're not romantically involved. So we got married. For the, um, practical reasons. We never – we're like siblings. I love her like a sister. But she's also my wife. Platonically.”

It takes a few seconds until Steve's words sink in. Then, Eddie leaps forward and basically collapses into Steve's arms, needing to hold onto him to prevent himself from crashing to the ground.

Steve's arms are warm, strong, and as safe as ever.

“Eddie, are you okay?” Steve asks softly. His lips brush against Eddie's ear while he speaks, and worry colors his voice.

Perfect Steve. Too-good-to-be-true Steve.

“Jesus Christ, Steve,” is the only thing Eddie manages to say.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you,” Steve says. “It's just – I've gotten some, um... Less than ideal reactions, in the past, whenever I told this when I was seeing someone. So I thought it'd be better to wait until things were getting serious.” He sighs, tangling his fingers in Eddie's hair. “I didn't wanna scare you off. Are we – are you okay?”

Eddie nods. He lifts his head from where it's resting against Steve's shoulder and raises his hands to squeeze them around Steve's face.

“We're okay,” he says. “And I'm sorry I didn't want to listen to you. I–” He stops; he can't find the words right away. It's still difficult to talk about those things; to let himself be vulnerable. But Steve has been honest with him, so it's only fair to return the favor.

“I've been hurt, Steve,” he confesses. “More than once. I've had some really shitty experiences with dudes not being honest with me. I thought that that was what was happening again, and I couldn't – I couldn't go through that again. Especially not with you.”

“Jesus, Eddie, I'm so sorry.”

“It's okay,” Eddie rushes to say, pulling Steve even closer towards him. “I trust you.” And as soon as these words leave his mouth, he knows it's the truth.

“I do want to be absolutely clear about one thing, though,” Steve says.

Eddie leans back in Steve's arms to give him an expectant look.

“Robin is my wife. I'm not planning on that to change anytime soon. We've been through a lot together. She's been the most important person in my life for years. We own a house and a dog together, and I love her more than anything. I like you a lot, and I promise you I'm all-in with you, but... Robin is still my number one. And that's not gonna change overnight. I need you to be okay with that.”

Eddie swallows. He looks into Steve's eyes. All he sees is a man who is honest, who loves his friends deeply, and who refuses to make any compromises when it comes to love – whether it be the platonic or the romantic kind.

It doesn't scare Eddie off; it only makes him fonder of Steve.

He smiles, glances around to check if they're alone, and presses a quick kiss against Steve's lips.

“I think I can live with that,” he says. “As long as I'm the only one who gets to do this.” He closes his eyes and lets his lips meet Steve's again.

The sigh that Steve breathes into their tentative kiss is one filled with relief.

[seat-safety-switch]

"Aren't you worried about your brand?" asks Josh, the prototypical hominid who was formed in a vat this very morning. Even though scientists have conclusively proven they don't have souls, it is still not okay to commit violence upon their unpersons.

Back on my first cycle, society actually used real humans as internet marketing experts. It was cruel, for sure, but we had no other options. Initial experiments in training dogs to do it had raised the ire of every animal-rights group from here to Baltimore (inclusive,) but you can always find someone desperate enough to work a dirty, demeaning job. A job like search-engine optimization.

"Can you hop on a call to discuss your content strategy?" begs Josh, possibly out of fear. Judging from the look of his skin, he is probably at most six hours old, and nobody has told him what is going on. Sure, maybe he heard from a couple of the older clones in the back of the U-Haul® on their way to my neighbourhood. Just rumour and innuendo, like a schoolyard gossip mill. If I agreed, he wouldn't know how to hop on a call, or even what one was.

Believe me, I've tried talking to them before. Although annoying, I genuinely am confident that the protos are a lifeform that deserves respect. Same reason I try to help earthworms back onto the lawn after a rainstorm. All life is valuable, and unlike previous generations, none of these synthetic non-people asked to go into such a horrific industry.

Josh can tell that he is losing me. He has never experienced failure before, not since he came out of the basic education creche in the factory. He begins to weep, which is honestly pretty brave of him because I hadn't thought they worked out the bugs with that whole system yet. I am nothing if not sympathetic, so I offer him a way out.

"Do you want to go to the junkyard with me? You can hold the flashlight," I ask. He responds with a tearful look of pure glee. It's always easy getting these suckers to do what you want. Tonight, I'll let Josh sleep in the backyard, but not out in the open. Don't want the neighbours thinking that I'm starting up some kind of e-commerce scam.

[pollyanna-nana]

One of the most tragic and compelling aspects of Dunmeshi, to me, is that we’ll probably never know (unless Kui tells us lol) how Delgal actually felt about Thistle. I’ve seen people say that he genuinely cared for him as a brother and his journey to the surface was to save him from his madness as much as it was his people. I’ve seen people say that he saw Thistle as nothing more than a fancy accessory or tool that ended up going astray. Others I’ve seen (and personally agree with) say that the truth lies somewhere in the middle. But honestly, I think any one of these interpretations has the potential to be correct… and that’s just heartbreaking.

After all, Delgal is dead. Like, dead-dead. The very first chapter of the manga starts with his spirit leaving this mortal coil, taking that answer with him. And…

How he talks about Thistle here… it’s interesting. He does not ask for him to be talked down, or captured or imprisoned, but instead “defeated”. Which Mithrun interprets as asking for his death… which is reasonable, because that’s likely how the vast majority of adventurers interpreted his words, too. Obviously as he was crumbling to dust he probably didn’t have the capacity to be particularly verbose or explain the complex backstory to how the kingdom ended up this way, but the effect is the same no matter how he may have felt with it. He asked for Thistle to be killed.

But… even in situations where he wasn’t under any such time limit to explain what was going on, he still seemed not to. Most glaringly:

Yaad seemingly has no idea that it was Delgal’s fault that Thistle sought the demon’s power. Obviously he couldn’t talk to him about it because Thistle was, uh, a little out there by that point, but why didn’t Delgal explain? Was he embarrassed? Mournful? Couldn’t find the words?

Delgal was scared of dying. He wanted prosperity at any cost, and how could Thistle possibly refuse? Did he even realize that what he was the one who pushed his own brother— One who basically helped raise him despite being a child himself, and in many ways is still a child— down this path? Or was it like watching an overzealous employee misinterpret directions?

The way Yaad describes things here makes it sound like Thistle simply dug too deep in his studies and fell into madness, but we know that’s not true. Delgal didn’t “suggest” he learn magic, he wanted a mage who could help himself and his people defy death, which he admits to Thistle openly:

So, why? Why not tell his grandson, at least, the truth of the matter? Did he worry it might make the remaining residents more likely to upset Thistle, and therefore suffer the consequences? Did he just not care? For what it’s worth though, Yaad does suspect the truth from Delgal’s behavior.

He “always blamed himself” for his descent into the dark arts. This is just Yaad’s observation, and that’s without knowing that it was quite literally Delgal’s fault Thistle went down this path. So, why? Why was it all kept a secret?

Of course, this made things ripe for the winged lion to manipulate to its advantage. Clearly despite knowing he’d pushed him into using it, Delgal still thought the lion was a force of good that was misused by Thistle as a result of his madness. His face in that last panel is particularly haunting. He looks terrible, gaunt and pale with overgrown hair and missing teeth. Had he gone mad, with grief and sorrow, as well?

Could he no longer see Thistle the way he did when they were younger? No one can ask him, because he died long before the story even began.

To go back to the original question, well, how did Delgal see Thistle? None of the previous points make a definitive answer any clearer, and I think that’s just brilliant. And so, so tragic.

[shockercoco]

An Honorary Member

Benny Cross x reader

Warnings - fluff, unwanted advances (like one), some swear words

Word count - 2768

a/n -  request: "please please PLEASE do something ANYTHING for benny cross x reader but reader is a sweetheart and is kinda just a goody two shoes..." read the rest of the request here. It's funny how many of your guys wanted this, and of course I had to deliver. I really enjoyed writing this and hopefully this meets your expectations. enjoy :)

“Are you sure it’s okay that I’m coming?” you ask Kathy as she finds a spot on the crowded grass to park.

You look down at your baby pink top, jeans, and white shoes, beginning to second guess your outfit choice. Despite your outfit being basic, you still felt odd amongst all the leather and dark colors. Even Kathy wasn’t wearing anything bright.

“Of course it is. These people don’t care,” Kathy tells as she puts the car in park. “Plus, if it was a problem, Benny wouldn’t have asked you to come.”

Benny loved your outfits. He thought it made you stand out next to him, and he loved that.

“You and I both know he would’ve still invited me if it even if it was a problem,” you point out, causing her to laugh in response.

“Besides you haven’t been around the girls in a while and they're looking forward to seeing you again,” Kathy says.

All the commotion outside could still be heard loud and clear even through the closed windows. You knew about the people Kathy and Benny hung out with and their well known reputation – she was technically the one who introduced you to Benny.

It also wasn’t uncommon for you to see members of the club riding through the streets whenever you were out in public running errands, but you’ve never actually met them. Dating Benny and being friends with some of the guys’ girlfriends was the closest you have gotten to this world. Benny thought it was finally time you meet the club and he thought this outing was the perfect opportunity.

Kathy could see the look of uncertainty on your face as you looked down. “You look fine, don’t worry about it too much. These guys practically wear the same thing all the time, so who are they to judge? Now get the hell out of my car.”

Making sure to grab your homemade cookies from the backseat, you both start heading towards the group. It was your idea to bring the cookies, thinking that it would make it easier for the guys to like you if you brought something to offer. You kind of went overboard and made way too many, though.

As the two of you walk to the table where the girls are, you spot Benny at another table having a smoke and talking to some of the other members.

“You actually came,” one of the girls, whose name you unfortunately forgot, smiled. She jumps up to give you a hug, before taking the cookie-filled container out of your hands, “And you brought goodies.” 

“You would go straight for the food,” Kathy jokes as the girl sits down, allowing others to reach their hand into the container.

The girl shrugs. “Her cookies are the best.”

“It’s been so long since I’ve last seen you,” Gail, whose name you do remember, tells you. You go to sit down next to her, while Kathy sits across from you. “You should come riding with us one time.”

“You ride?” you ask her, your eyebrows raised.

“Well, no not me, but my boyfriend does,” Gail says.

You turn your head as she nods in what you're assuming is her boyfriend’s general direction, but all you notice is Benny walking towards the table.

Benny had noticed your arrival, but Johnny kept running his mouth and he couldn’t find the right time to get away. He eventually just decided to get up and leave because there was no telling if the conversation would ever end, and as of now you were more important to him.

When Benny had first met you it was outside of a bar that basically belonged to the Vandals. You were only there to drop off some money for Kathy for whatever reason because she couldn’t seem to get away.

You were hesitant at first because one: it was the middle of the night, and two: you would be going to a place where all the bikeriders hung out. A bar and a bunch of crazy men didn’t seem like the best combination and you didn’t even understand why Kathy would always go to such a place, but nevertheless she was your best friend, so you felt obligated to go.

You had barely entered the bar when Kathy had come running up to you and thanking you. You were about to tell her it was no problem – even though it most definitely was – but you got distracted by this man coming up behind her.

The tattoos and the unlit cigarette hanging from his lips should’ve been a turn off for you, but you couldn’t help but feel attracted to him. The hair, the way he walked, and the look in his eye just screamed confidence, and you found yourself not being able to look away from him. He gave you a smirk when his eyes found yours, and you immediately looked away as you felt embarrassment flow through your body. 

Yeah, you definitely had to leave.

“Did you want to stay for a drink?” Kathy asked you, breaking you from your thoughts.

“What? Oh, no I should get going. It’s late an–”

“Who’s this?” the man asks Kathy as he approaches the two of you, interrupting your sentence. He removes the cigarette from his mouth and stuffs his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket.

“This is my best friend,” Kathy looks up at him, “and she’s off limits.”

The guy laughs at her statement. “Aren’t you going to introduce me?” he asks her, but he’s looking at you. 

Kathy sighs as she rolls her eyes. “This is Benny,” she tells you before looking back at him, “but it doesn’t really matter because you’re leaving, aren’t you Benny.”

Well if Kathy doesn’t seem to like him, then neither should you. Right?

“Loosen up, Kathy.”

Kathy’s about to say something else, but someone calls her name. She looks behind her before looking back at you Benny. She hesitates for a second before sending Benny a glare and walking away.

“Isn’t it a little late for you to be out by yourself?” Benny asks, looking down at you and giving you this look. A look that gives you butterflies and makes you want to smile, but you resist. His gaze is intense.

“Yes, which is why I’m going home,” you tell him.

“Do you need a ride, I’m on my way out,” he raises an eyebrow. 

“No thanks, I drove here,” you answer.

“Hmm. Well I guess I’ll see you around then,” he smiles. He’s not asking, but telling you.

“I guess so,” you say. 

You don’t know if you’re waiting for him to leave or if he’s waiting on you to make a move first, but you both just stand there for a moment. You don’t know if it’s an awkward or comfortable silence between the two of you, but you can’t handle his eyes on you anymore.

Benny watches you give him a small smile before turning around and exiting the bar. He smiles to himself as he follows you out the door, taking his cigarette and lighter out of his pocket. He watches as you get into the car you parked on the side of the street and drive off, still looking down the street, even when you’re no longer in eyesight.

You were different from him, and he wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or bad thing, but he had to find out. You seemed so gentle and shy, unlike all the other girls that hang around at the bar. Benny felt drawn to you, even though the two of you had only talked for a couple of minutes. The fact that Kathy didn’t want him around  you only egged him on more.

He had to have you.

As you’re having a cup of coffee the next morning, you decide to look out one of your living room windows – something you always do. This time when you move the curtain aside, you almost drop the cup in your hand when you see Benny across the street. He’s leaning against his bike having a cigarette, and you’re wondering how the hell he found you.

And how long has he been out there?

You set your cup down on your living room table before opening the front door. Benny notices the door open and just smirks when he sees you walking down your front steps. He gets up from his position on the bike and walks towards you, flicking his cigarette on the ground.

“What are you doing here?” you ask him once you reach the bottom of your steps, and Benny is standing on the sidewalk. You wrap your sweater tighter around your body as the morning breeze blows past you.

You give him a once-over now that he’s standing in front of you and man does he look good. Why does he look so good? 

“Kathy gave me your address,” he tells you casually.

Your eyes nearly pop out of their head because that is so unlike her. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” he nods with amusement, “but don’t be mad at her, I kind of forced it out of her.”

“And you’re here because…?”

“Because I wanted to see you again. I’ve been thinking about you all night,” he tells you. Your heart drops and have to keep your jaw from hanging open because there’s no way.

You wait a second before asking, “How many girls have you said that too?” 

“One,” he smiles at you as he slowly walks towards you. “You.”

That was five weeks ago. You shouldn’t have fallen for that cheesy line, but you did, which is how you now find yourself at this picnic.

“Glad my girl came,” he whispers in your ear as he takes a seat next to you. He smirks as he notices goosebumps popping up along your arm.

“You two make me sick,” Kathy says, but there’s no animosity in her voice. She can’t help but smile as she looks between you and Benny because she’s never seen him like this. Before you, she’s never seen him so…in love. It’s obvious that you have him wrapped around your finger.

Some of the other girls around the table have smiles across their faces too as they witness the interaction too because they can also see the difference in Benny.

“Come on, I want you to meet some of the guys,” he tells you and you nod. He grabs your hand in his as he walks you towards the group of guys he had been talking to when you arrived, feeling kind of nervous as you see all of their eyes on you.

As you approach, one of the older men looks down at your hand connected with his and a grin slowly grows on his lips. He’s sitting at the table while the rest of them either stand around it, or sit on the table top.

“So this is your girl huh, the one you’ve been hiding from us?” the same guy asks.

Benny rolls his eyes. “This is Johnny, he’s in charge of the club.”

“Damn right I am, but that’s not important. It’s nice to finally meet you, sweetheart,” Johnny says as he leans forward and holds his hand out for you to shake. You give him a small smile as you accept his hand.

“We’re here too,” another guy says.

“That’s Cockroach,” Johnny tells you before introducing the rest of them, and pointing out some of the others that are walking around. “And this is Danny, he’s not like everyone else. He’s writing some kind of story or somethin’.”

You turn around to see a guy with a camera hanging around his neck approaching the group, a half eaten cookie in his hand. “Someone made cookies, you guys gotta try them.”

“And you didn’t bring us any? Not cool man,” Cal says.

“Didn’t you make those?” Benny looks down at you, nodding his head towards Danny’s hand.

“Um, yeah.”

“You bake?” Cockroach asks, and you nod.

“Well hand them over so we can try it before they’re all gone,” Johnny says, and you give him a nod before heading back towards the table where the cookies are.

As you’re walking, some drunk guy stumbles his way in front of you, almost bumping into you. Thinking nothing of it since a lot of the men around are wasted, you ignore him and try to go around him. The man doesn’t let you move far though as he grabs your arm and gives you a sly smile. Your face contorts in disgust and you try to jerk your arm away, but his grip is too tight.

“I haven’t seen you around here before, little lady. What’s your name?” he slurs, the smell of alcohol filling your nostrils.

“None of your business,” you tell him. You try to pull your arm away again, but the man’s grip only gets tighter. Your heartbeat picks up as you begin to panic, but there’s too many people around so nothing can happen. Right?

“I like your shirt,” he gives the bottom of your shirt a little tug.

“Stop,” you smack his hand away.

“Come on, don’t be like that, gorgeous. I’m just trying to be nice, the least you could do is tell me your name,” the man steps closer, getting into your face.

“Let me go,” you say sternly, once again trying to move.

“I think you need to be taught some manners,” the man glares at you.

From behind you, Benny sees the altercation going down and begins to come to your aid, but you do something that makes him stop in his tracks.

You smack the man hard, making his head turn to the side. His hand immediately lets go of you to reach up and touch his cheek, the handprint already starting to show.

A few people around who witnessed the scene gasp and laugh. A few whistles and hollers join in.

“You bitch,” he says, his nostrils flaring.

“I guess we both need to be taught some manners,” you spit, no longer feeling shy since there are too many eyes on him.

Apparently, the man notices the stares too because he backs off, but not without giving you one last look.

“Well damn,” Cockroach says amongst the group.

“Got yourself a good one, Benny,” Johnny chuckles, his head falling back. That makes Benny’s heart swell with pride.

“Remind me not to piss her off,” Cal says, his eyes wide.

Kathy comes up to check on you, but you tell her you’re okay. When you come back to the group with the container in your hand, everyone’s looking at you with grins covering their face. Benny shoots you a wink, making your face heat up.

“These aren’t bad at all, you gotta bring these to all the meetings,” Johnny says after taking a bite of his cookie, the guys nodding in agreement.

Now, you don’t know what you were thinking, but the idea of attending meetings hadn’t crossed your mind at all.

You should’ve known because a couple of days later when the club meets at the bar again, you’re right there with them, a few containers of baked goods in your hand. The men don’t waste their time rushing towards you when you first step foot in the bar, making Benny shove his way through the crowd to make sure you don’t get crushed. Surprisingly, though, you don’t mind at all.

“You better wait your turn,” one guy tells another who’s trying to cut in front of him.

“Fuck off,” the man answers and shoves the guy aside.

Benny grabs them both by the neck of their jackets and pulls them back.

“Gentlemen, please, let’s not act like animals,” Johnny calls out.

Word gets out about how good your baking is – and your altercation with that drunk man – causing the bikers to have respect for you. Whenever you need something and Benny’s not around, there’s always someone that volunteers.

If you need a ride to work because your car broke down and Benny’s not able to pick you up, Johnny’s waiting right outside your door. If for some reason, someone dares to shoot their shot at you, it doesn’t take long for the person to get thrown out of the bar. And when you get cold, several of the bikers offer their jackets to you, only for Benny to quickly throw his jacket over your shoulders.

Yeah, you could get used to this.

Like what you see? check out my masterlist :)

[coffeeshopguest]

Hi! Can I request Sebastian from stardew valley during your honeymoon smut? If not, that’s totally fine

-✨🖤✨

ofc you can, I wasn't quite sure where to take it or lead into it, but I honestly really like how it turned out :) hope it was what you wanted :)

Farmer's Honeymoon

Word Count: 1520 Pairing: Sebastian x F!Reader Warnings: 18+, smut, smoking, fingering, unprotected sex, swearing, vaginal sex (should be all, lmk if I missed any!) 

The wedding was beautiful, and you'd even convinced Sebastian not to smoke over the entirety of the service - the entire town had made it (which wasn't surprising, considering there was only about 30 people in the entire town). It was beautiful, perfect. Just what you had envisioned. Other than one, small, teeny problem.

It was summer. Sebastian thought that would be the perfect time to get married - and you'd tried to explain it wasn't. One - it would be too warm. But mostly for the second reason that you couldn't leave your farm. When you addressed this to Sebastian he shrugged it off. "We can always take a trip in the winter, I want to marry you in the summer. We can do a mini-honeymoon in town," and that was that. 

And so it was. Sebastian and you were eloped in the town center, and after the celebration, you two headed back off to the farm. Sebastian officially moving in with you. Upon reaching the farm, he slid down onto the porch, staring out at the field. "We - we don't have to stay," you voiced, moving to sit beside him. "We could leave - save up and run away somewhere new and exciting." 

Sebastian laughed, he fished out a cigarette from his jacket pocket, glancing at you, "mind?" he asked as he set it in his mouth.

"Go for it," you answered, he happily lit the cigarette, looking out at the sun dipping in the sky. He thought for a while about your words, perhaps tempted by the offer.

He took a long huff, blew it out, then spoke. "I wanna stay. I know all I used to talk about was leaving but...I don't know. It's home. Shitty, boring, dusty, small - but...home," he thought for a while. "Besides, your farm is here..." he added, he pondered what else to add. Taking along drag, flicking some of the ash down onto the dirt and stomping on it. "It looks pretty, I know I've seen it here or there but...it feels different at night. Calmer."

Your head fell against his shoulder, humming a little. You two sat while he finished his cigarette and then he stood, he gently offered you a hand. "C'mon," he said softly, "Wanna celebrate our marriage," he mumbled it, a small devious look overtaking his face. You raised an eyebrow but took his hand.

"What were you thinking?" 

He tugged your hand, opening the farmhouse door. "What do you think I'm thinking?" he answered, basically dragging you across the house towards the bedroom. Sure, you two had done it a few times before marriage. Okay, a lot. But Sebastian seemed set on this being special. Once he'd reached the bedroom, he lightly guided you to the bed, laying you down on your back. "You want me to?" he whispered, eyes wandering you. Despite still being fully clothed, his gaze made you feel naked. Your head bobbed, words not forming. Sebastian's face fell ever so slightly. "Use your words, c'mon baby," he encouraged, leaning to kiss your lips. "Don't nod, tell me." 

Over the course of your relationship with Sebastian you'd learned a few things. He needed words, confirmation, noise. He climbed onto the bed, slightly on top of you, eyes focused on you. Waiting.

"God...yes, please," you whispered out, his face formed a smirk, that was all he needed. After all this time he still needed a yes and it drove you up the wall with excitement. 

He slowly leaned down, connecting your lips, his hands immediately reaching for you, tugging off any piece of clothing in his way, gripping what skin he came in contact with. Soft moans escaped him, slight groans. He pressed his clothed self against you, causing a soft reaction from you - a small whine. "More, need more," you insisted. He pulled back, examining what clothes he'd left you in. Just panties, his eyes wandered your naked form before he quickly and easily tore those off. Literally tore. "Seb~"

"It's okay, I'll buy you more," he assured, not at all phased by the action. He captured you in another kiss, hands moving to find your breasts. Grazing your nipple with his thumb, you pathetically lifted your hips trying to gain some sort of friction. He pulled his body a little further, watching your needy state. "Mh, god...so pretty," he mumbled. His hands moved down your body, slowly, reaching your thighs he spread your legs for him, examining your wet pussy. "So pretty," he repeated, slowly running a finger between your folds. You shivered, watching him.

"Seb- more...need more," you insisted pathetically, he didn't react immediately, finger lightly tracing around you, before he quickly shoved it in. Your body reacted quickly, a long guttural moan escaped you as your back arched a little. 

"Fuck, I feel that," he grunted a little, "fuck he you're tight," he slowly pulled his out, glancing up at your face. Another thing he always did - watched. Watched for your reactions to know just what felt good and just what he needed to do. He slipped the finger back in, watching to see how you took it. You bit your lip to fight back the moan that erupted and in reply, he instantly shoved a second one in. "Oh come on, give me it, moan for me," he encouraged, his other hand rubbing softly against your clit - urging you to an orgasm. 

 "Oh, fuck - Seb," you whimpered out, his eyes locked on you, glancing down at your pussy, making sure he was pumping in and out well enough, watching your wetness soak his fingers. "Gon- gonna cum..." in reply, he pumped faster, rubbed harder. You gripped the sheets of the bed, moaning out Sebastian's name. And finally, you let go. Tightening around his fingers, he coaxed out the remainder of your orgasm before pulling his fingers out. 

He wasted no time ripping off his suit, undoing the dress shirt, and tossing it to the floor. (He never cared for suits). The dress pants came next, falling to the floor you could finally see the extent of his bulge. He quickly removed his boxers, throwing them aside. He climbed fully on top of you, a hand gripping yours and lacing the fingers together. "Ready, baby?" he purred softly, never wanting to do anything you wouldn't want. 

"Yes...yes," you answered, squeezing his hand. You whined when he moved his hand away, shivering as it traced its way down your body, to your hips. He lifted you slightly, positioning himself. "Condom?" you mumbled, looking at him. Eyes glazed, still coming down from your last high.

"Mind if I skip it tonight?" he asked, you shook your head.

"Fill me..." 

He smirked, always loving when you gave an order. He would do his best to fulfill every desire you had, he slowly and gently pushed his tip against you. Eyes glued to your face. He gave you the tip first, you groaned out and Sebastian had to remind himself to take things slow. The urge to slam in and thrust as hard as he could was tempting, but he wanted to draw out the session and make you feel as good as he possibly could. So, as you adjusted, he took his time shoving in. Watching. Waiting. Once he was sure you were adjusted, he slowly pulled back out, slowly shoved back in. Your hands wandered, looking for his shoulders, his back. You gripped him with your nails, digging into his skin. 

He groaned as your nails dug in, knowing you'd leave marks. "Mh, god...ready for more?" he whispered, you whimpered and nodded pathetically - and this time Sebastian didn't ask for words. His pace sped up, hands holding you firmly in place as his hips trusted. The room filled with sounds of your moans, his soft grunts, and skin against skin. He managed to last until your nails dug deeper into his back, clawing down it. "Can't-fuck can't hold it...cum for me baby..." 

You didn't need the words, with one hard thrust from Sebastian you bit his shoulder to stop yourself from screaming and waking up the whole town. Walls clenching tightly around his cock. He grunted, slowing his pace, letting you cum all over him before he shot his load into you, a soft moan - almost a whimper - escaped him. He waited for a moment, head thrown back and eyes shut tight. "God...keep squeezing like that and I'm not gonna...gonna stop cumming.." he grunted out, when you both came down from the high he pulled himself out.

His eyes flickered to your pussy, dripping with a mix of your two's cum. "Fuck, you're so gorgeous," he mumbled, kissing your lips gently. "I'll clean you up, baby," he added, standing and heading for the bathroom. 

Sure, it wasn't a trip away - but every day and night Sebastian made the honeymoon feel absolutely perfect.

tag list:

comment if you want to be tagged in future Sebastian fics!

[frostedsugarcookiehearts]

² it's a friday, (i'm in love)

୨ৎ

as chappell roan said, "your favorite artists' favorite artist"— but for you, it was more like your celebrity crushes celebrity crush!

you'd been on youtube for a long time now, flying under the radar of the algorithm for a good while. there were pluses and minuses to this arrangement, of course— you didn't live in a multi-billion-jillion dollar mansion, but also, your fanbase was small and dedicated, and you still lit up every time when you saw a fan edit or fan art.

out of sheer luck, a friend of a friend of a friend of a... well, you get the jist, but you knew ted through mutual friends. you'd met at a party once, and you geeked out upon meeting him, chatting his ear off. he had more subscribers than people you've ever met! by a million.

clearly, you had left some kind of impression on little ol' ted, because he invited you onto chuckle sandwich (rip), and right on the dot you were squished in the booth, trying to prepare for the inevitable being-squeezed-between-two-over-six-feet-men, wide eyed and a little nervous as you adjusted your hair for what felt like the hundredth time.

then you felt the booth dip beside you, and you whip your head around (then up) to see a huge brick wall of a man. "you must be schlatt! it's nice to meet you!" you chirp, offering out a hand.

maybe you weren't the best at first impressions, because schlatt took one look at you— and maybe he was feeling under the weather... or something?— he turned bright red and ran out. like, quite literally got up out of the booth, and ran, muttering about going to the bathroom.

you and ted ended up chatting politely about how you got into streaming, what your favorite thing to stream is— the kind of questions anyone who had a podcast would ask. but then you felt the familiar dip in the booth, you turned around again to face the big man again. gracious and charming, he blurted—

"so... woman. got uh," he cleared his voice. "got a boyfriend?"

it takes a second for that question to load in your brain, and then you blink. realizing you're on a podcast and not an awkward first date— (could've fooled you)— you try to come up with a charming response of, "the only man in my life is the twitch grind, schlatt," and offer him a grin.

the mic picks up the grumble under schlatt's breath; "there room for one more?"

ted snickers, but attempts to save you from an awkward situation by steering the interview back to questions they have for you. schlatt gets a little less awkward after his whole "unlimited games or unlimited bacon" spiel, but he goes right back to his antics after he leans in a little closer and chirps,

"wanna play a game that we always play with the podcast guests?"

looking around suspiciously, ted raises a brow, because there is definitely not a 'game' or whatever the hell schlatt's spouting right now. "schlatt, what the fuck are you—"

"it's, uh, you basically turn the digits of your phone number into a number and tell me how much money you'd have." schlatt stutters out, offering a dorky smile to you.

you blink. "one? i only have one phone number. i'm not richie rich like you!— i watched that one video of yours when you went to that hotel room that was so much money, it made my head spin."

"ah, that's nothin', toots. i can take ya sometime." he winks at you, and for some reason, your heart flutters. "like uh, a part two."

ted, always the instigator; "would you two sleep in the same be—"

"al—right!" schlatt claps loudly. "let's move on."

the interview ran smoothly enough, but it was nothing compared to the comments. they exploded about the chemistry between you two, the banter, and schlatt's pathetic attempt at flirting. it made all the fans go insane, it was clipped a hundred times over and posted everywhere.

and then the pièce de résistance? an offhand comment schlatt made on stream, joking that if people started donating a thousand dollars, he'd ask you out on a video game date.

boy, did the fans deliver for you two! they insisted that schlatt raid your stream, which he did, peppering comments like "what's your favorite flower" or "how are you doing today beautiful?" fans of yours even left sneaky little comments in schlatt's chat about what kind of things you liked, and a few clips of you talking about your type in men and your ideal dates were sent directly into schlatt's dms. and he watched them. analyzed them, actually. if he put this much energy into homework back in school, he'd be on track to get his masters right now!

after doing his research, he felt ready to ask.

↓

jschlatt donated $1,500!

↳ hey toots. you free @ 7pm EST?

and that sealed the deal. like clockwork, at 7pm EST, you actually got dressed up all nice, did your hair and put on a nice dress, sat down at your gaming chair and booted up discord, hovering over the call button under schlatt's tag. but he called you first, and you twirled your hair one more time before answering.

"hi," you smiled, a dumb cheshire cat grin on your face. fortunately, schlatt's was even bigger.

in the background, you made a few clicks and booted up your stream as he did his. "so where do you want to go, on our date?"

"this is a date?" you quirk a brow, smirking, and schlatt turns just as red as the first time he met you.

he stammers, "well, like, in the sense of the word, y'know. date. hangout. uh, shindig. whatever the hell you want it to be. ma'am."

schlatt turned on the facecam to show he was wearing a black turtleneck, and you turned on yours to show off your outfit. "i'm not your mom, you don't have to call me ma'am." you giggled, wiping off the bit of lipstick on the corner of your lip.

he grumbled something under his breath, his chat clearly hearing something you didn't as he comically widened his eyes, looking around the room as chat exploded.

but besides that little blip, it all went great! always the gentleman, schlatt booted up his pc to minecraft, but you shook your head and insisted on playing stardew valley instead. the two of you started on a farm together where schlatt had put your beds suspiciously close to each other and jokingly started trying to fight the townspeople— specifically sam— for 'getting all over you'. he was even about to fight robin for 'hitting on you', since he quipped, "equal rights, equal fights. and i support women liking women. but not if they're trying to steal ya from me, alright?" and promptly tried to hit her in game with an axe. lovely!

you ended up laughing so hard you felt like you had a six-pack. schlatt was genuinely a good time, and when the two of you met shane in-game, it was whirlwind. you compared him to schlatt, and he vehemently denied it. "maybe i should get married to shane," you quip, and schlatt scoffs. "what? he's like, the walmart— jojamart— version of me! you could get the real deal, right here!" he practically whined, rolling his eyes petulantly.

after hours of laughing and cracking jokes, running around pelican town and flirting, you two decided to end stream. he hummed a soft, "we should do this again sometime."

"oh, we will." you grin. "my dms are open."

he smiled, looking straight into the screen— it felt more like right into your soul, though. "good to know."

୨ৎ

dividers credit: @omi-resources

[un-unavoidableanxiousball]

Excuse me, Mr. Loaf Man?

Masterlist²

Rating: Mature

Fandom: Squid Game

Pairing: platonic: Salesman x Reader,

Characters: Salesman, Reader, background homeless people, parents - mom and dad,

Tags: gn!child!Reader, compassionate!Salesman, still unhinged!Salesman, abusive parents, angst, fluff, comfort, 2nd person POV, Reader's POV, alternating POV, 3rd person POV, Salesman's POV, Reader is a single child, obsessed!Salesman,

Warnings: spousal abuse(implied), child abuse, starvation, force feeding, yelling, child negligence, vomiting (mention), Reader is locked in a closet as punishment, cuss word(s) (I think)

Summary: 10 year old Reader prefers spending their time in a park. They can keep themself entertained. Sometimes they see a man walking around, talking with homeless people. After a couple of times, they decide to approach him.

Word count: 6075

Acronyms: (y/n) - your name, (f/n) - father's name, (m/n) - mother's name

A/N: Pretty sure there's dubious pacing; mind any possible grammatical errors or accidental shift of Reader's gender.. Tell me if I missed a tag; I'm weird and I can't write

A/N: I was the one that made the childish drawing above on my tablet. Just for this fanfic. I just edited it a little to look like it's a child showing it (hands are from google). I tried to make reader neutral looking but I couldn't manage. But it's the thought that counts. Don't copy without tagging me.

Reader's POV

You make your way to the nearby park, again. You sort of can't wait, you hope that the kind man will be there today as well. For days you've been bracing yourself how to approach him.

On days when your mom can't immediately pick you up from school, — tuesdays, thursdays and fridays — you learned to keep yourself busy. Your favorite place is at the park. Nobody bothers you there. And one day you saw a man in a suit with bags in each hand. He went up to every homeless man and woman handing out something. You couldn't see it from so far away. No one looks at homeless people. But he does, so he must be kind.

If he's willing to talk to them then maybe he'll talk to you too? No one really likes you either. You don't have any friends. And dad certainly thinks of you as too revolting to look at.

After that day you went to the park every time mom runs late. Keeping an eye out for him. He wasn't always there. But you felt better after getting a glance of him. Also you kept shortening the distance from which you were watching him.

But now you are ready. You didn't have to wait long after arriving. You basically rush up to him and before you can chicken out you speak. "Excuse me, sir…?"

He turns to look at you, his expression a little irritated and curious at being interrupted. A raised eyebrow and a short "Yes?" is enough to make you continue.

"What do you have in those bags, sir?" you ask tilting your head.

He considers you for a moment then he opens one bag, curtly replying "Bread."

You feel your eyes widening at the amount of packaged loaves. Is that what he always offers others? You look up at him eagerly, "Can I have one, please?"

To your astonishment he agrees and lets you take it. "Gamsahabnida, sir." [Thank you, sir] With that you rush back to your spot on the bench.

You happily eat while you see him going through every person. After the last man, he then walks and stops in the centre of the pavement. He does something you didn't see before nor expect. He empties both bags to the ground, bread lands on the ground. And when a man crouching, reaches for one. He stomps on it.

"I gave you a chance, and you made your choice." His voice is loud enough for you to clearly hear what he's saying. "I'm not the one who threw these away." He points to the ground, "It's you, ladies and gentlemen."

And then he starts jumping and crushing the bread. You keep nibbling on your loaf but it does nothing to calm your beating heart at the familiar sight. You know very well it's a reasonable punishment for not eating. You don't understand how they could keep denying the bread to the point that today the kind man had enough of them. You're happy you managed to get one loaf from him.

You keep your gaze down on the ground in front of you. There's still plenty of time until mom can finally drive you home.

So you decide to do your homework. You were already half-way done when lesson ended. You were putting the last touches when a shadow falls on you and your notebook. You glance up to see loaf man staring intensely at you. Does he want to sit here?

Your cheeks flush with shame, you scramble up to pack everything. "S-sorry, sir."

He grabs your wrist to stop you from packing up further. "It's fine. I don't mind." He gives you a small smile. "If I may ask… Why are you here? Where are your parents?"

You hug your exercise book to soothe yourself. "At work. Mom doesn't pick me up until later." A bit of silence passes that you break quietly. "Thank you again for the bread. It was delicious."

In softened voice and a bit slowly the man speaks, "Did I frighten you little one? Are you scared of me?"

You're pinching and rubbing the book cover in a soothing motion. You look at the ground which is when you notice he still has the paper bags but this time containing stomped on bread.

"Not really? I was a little startled when you dumped and crushed the bread… But I get it. My parents don't like it when I refuse to eat either. But usually I have to eat it when dad tells me so; even if I don't like the taste."

"Is that so?" It's told with an edge you can't pick up.

You nod your head, your grip on the book loosens.

"How old are you?"

"…ten…" Your answer is mumbled enough that the man has to lean in closer to hear it.

"You're ten?" He whispered in disbelief. He looks around as if to see if someone finds this unbelievable as well. "…and how long will it be until your mother picks you up?" His eyes jump across your face in search of something.

"It's usually 4:48 PM. Maybe minutes earlier or later. I don't mind it much. I'm a big kid."

His eyes darkened for a moment only to be swiftly replaced by softness and calmness. He sends you a charming smile. "Then you wouldn't mind my company then?"

You shake your head and that's that.

Since Mr. Loaf Man doesn't mind, you unpack again to finish the rest of your homework. He doesn't speak to you again. Just sits there, quietly observing you. After you finish every homework you had, you decide to play around. A little hide and seek. Mr. Loaf Man even played along with you! When time neared 4:30 you already have everything in your backpack and are ready to head back to your school gate. That was the moment when he offered to walk you there. He's so kind! Of course you readily agreed.

After arriving to your school, he makes sure you'll be okay alone and walks away. You only wait six minutes after that for your mom to come. You step into the car and buckle your seatbelt.

"Did you have fun at school sweetie?"

"Yes, mom. Just like always. I even got to solve an equation and write it on the board!" You say with excitement.

"That's amazing, sweetie."

...

"Mom…?" she hums, "…what's for dinner today?"

"Maybe… Baechu Guk, hmm?" You actually like it so maybe it won't be that bad today. You will lick the plate clean! And dad will be happy. It's not your favorite but at least it's not sannakji. You felt really sick after eating that. You hate it but dad makes sure you eat it everytime it's served. You can cry and scream but dad knows how to force you to swallow it. But more often than not, you throw up afterwards. And then you don't get to eat for couple days. As a way to make up for you wasting food.

Mom parks the car before your house. You quickly get out to help her carry the grocery bag. She opens the door and you make your way to the kitchen. Not before quickly taking off your shoes. In fast moves you set everything on the table and then place things in the correct cupboards (those that you can reach).

Your mom walks in, having already hung her coat. "That's okay, (y/n). I have it from here. You go to your room and do your homework, okay? Food will be ready in half an hour." She rubs your head.

"Okay mom." You go to the front door to leave your jacket on the hanger. You hurry to your room.

You only have 30 minutes to think of a gift for Mr. Loaf Man. You need to show your gratitude. It's proper.

But you don't know what he likes… A bracelet is out, he doesn't seem like the type. Besides it's more a gift for girls. A key chain? You don't know his favorite colors though, so it's out too.

A picture maybe? Nothing goes wrong there. Maybe it's a little basic… But you might be able to give him something better later on.

But you want it to look, if not good, decent enough. It has to show your gratefulness. So minutes pass as you test out different colors and positions and something always didn't sit quite right. It turns out ugly. You ended up re-doing it every time. You couldn't decide what else to draw when mom calls for dinner.

Dad already sat in his chair, his face forever frozen on expressing frustration. You join the table as mom brings food.

First portion goes to dad then mom and then to you. You wait until dad starts eating.

"(y/n), tell your dad what you managed to do today."

You nod your head, enthusiastic to share your accomplishment. Dad might be happy too. "I got to do an exercise in front of the whole class! I solved every equation correctly."

He scoffs, "What is there to be proud of? You probably forgot to do your homework."

You lower your head and focus on eating, every ounce of excitement leaving your body.

"(f/n)!"

"What?! You know I'm telling the truth! They're incompetent! Not even the top of their class." He grunts and goes back to eating.

"They're capable enough not to need help with homework. (y/n), did you manage to finish everything your teacher gave you?"

Forgetting to swallow, you answer that yes, you did. Your mother continues, "See? They did that in half an hour."

Dad growls and bangs his hand on the table. "Are you blind, (m/n)?! Did you not see what I did? How many times have I repeated myself- No talking with your mouth full! Clearly (y/n) is a useless brat! Nothing stays in that head."

You curl in on yourself further. Wishing to become invisible in this moment. But you also hurry with Baechu Guk to avoid angering him further. And because you're going to need it. As you know you can't avoid your punishment for forgetting a rule. Thankfully this time your dad decides to punish you after dinner.

Mom cleans the table while dad grips your small arm and leads you to the punishment closet. He shoves you inside. "You should know the deal. But since you're a forgetful dumbass, I'll repeat it for you." He leans closer to your face, disgust clear on his face. "You stay here as long as the number of times you broke the rules. For every disobedience is 10 more minutes. Today marks 110 minutes, congratulations. Now, quiet!" He hissed the last part. With that he slams the closet shut. You hear him lock the closet door with a key.

You're shaking all over. Alone in the darkness, dreading how long 110 minutes will feel like. You feel your tears run down your cheeks. You hope he won't forget to get you out. You won't have time to do Mr. Loaf Man that drawing otherwise… You hope that this friday he'll be there and won't mind your company again.

earlier, Salesman's POV

He's heading toward the park where most of the homeless reside. It's the latest whim of the frontman. Social experiments. As if humanity has any hope for redemption. Especially the trash. He's confident it's the fault of player 456 for this idiocy.

Arrogance seems to be a heritable trait for winners. They think of themselves as special. Player 456 with his will to put a stop to the games and player 132… well, being chosen as the next frontman and successor by the host surely went to his head.

He arrives to the park when he hears someone run in his direction. He was ready to pay them no mind. He's far more irritateable today. He keeps walking until he hears a child's voice. "Excuse me, sir…?"

Curious what a child might want from him, he turns his head to look at them. He lets out a clipped "Yes?". Though he had no intention for it to come out unkind. Apparently today the hold on his mask is far looser than he thought.

Astonishingly the child isn't deferred by his sharpness. With a tilt to their head they ask the last question he expected. Which it shouldn't have been, considering the circumstances.

"What do you have in those bags?"

He considers for a moment what to do. Ignore, not ignore, lie or not. But he sees no harm in answering truthfully. He shifts his hold to open one of the bags so the child can see inside. He says "Bread." with more stable tone, but still has some curtness to it.

He sees their eyes widen with wonder. Their mouth goes slack in shock. They look back up at him in seconds asking if they can have one.

He agrees. One package less won't interfere with overall choice of the less fortunate. There's always more than enough bread left over. Not many choose food over a lottery ticket.

They rush off after saying "Gamsahabnida, sir!". And he goes about his routine. He approaches men, among which only one chose to take the packaged bread and immediately inhaled it. The few women there are a different matter. Within the four only one chose lottery. It always seems like females are smarter in that regard. It's never enough though.

But today, there was something about their choices that kept adding fuel to his already bad mood. He stops in the front, puts down his suitcase and the bags. Then he takes one bag after the other and spills their contents to the ground. Homeless crowd moves with confused apprehension. He pays them no mind.

He feels a twitch of apathy at the quantity. This pile of bread shows exactly why natural selection is so important. Here's proof that humanity's advancement in medicine not only helped raise quality of life, but also allowed inferior genes to survive. Some characteristics should've died out a long time ago.

"Why would you throw away perfectly good food like that?" Unbelievable. The audacity of the question. Doesn't the damn hypocrite hear himself? He declined it, preferred a hopeless chance at winning lottery over nutrition.

The revolting scum reaches for the bread. The entitlement astounds him and he won't let it stand. He crushes the bread with his shoe. But he gains no satisfaction witnessing the uncomprehending expression. "I gave you a chance, and you made your choice."

It doesn't register in their microscopic brains. His voice raises: "I'm not the one who threw these away." he point at the ground to emphasize, "It's you, ladies and gentlemen."

But he observes no shift in their expressions or postures. No change. No remorse. Nothing.

Their lack of critical thinking and absolute absence of self-awareness among them drive him into a frenzy.

He stomps and jumps with fervor, squashing as many bread buns as he can. He unleashes on these packages his tightly contained frustration and anger toward this crowd, his boss and that stupid player 456.

His energy runs out fairly quickly but he feels slightly better for it.

He presses his hands against his face, applying pressure to further ground him to the present. Tries to fix his hair then straighten his spine and tucks in the tie.

He look around to see which packages survived the ordeal. He picks up each one that did and puts them back into the bag. The ungrateful vermin don't deserve good things that's clear.

He's back hiding away behind his calm and unbothered mask. He makes a move to turn around and leave when he sees them. The same child that inquired after the bread.

They're still here? Why? If they saw his actions, why do they remain around? And… are they doing homework?!

He finds himself puzzled and his feet lead him to them automatically. He can't avert his eyes from the sight. Apparently unbothered by the scene he caused just now. He stands there casting a shadow over their book.

You startle and seem in a hurry to make space for him to sit. Except… It looks like you want to get away entirely. He doesn't want that. He takes hold of your wrist to stop you.

"It's fine, I don't mind." He aims for a reassuring smile and doesn't know if he succeeds. "If I may ask… Why are you here? Where are your parents?" Why are you alone when anything tragic can happen to you at anytime?

He notes you're a little nervous or shy but aren't hostile toward him. "At work… Mom doesn't pick me up until later." How much later? He's a psychopathic man who keeps up a facade on a daily basis just to pass as normal; and even he knows it's negligent to leave someone so small and innocent without protection. Wasn't there a saying or a quote telling children should be cherished? Is society at such a low point it's acceptable nowadays? A spark of anger lights up within him, again. Your voice brings him back from his thoughts.

"Thank you again for the bread. It was delicious." Such a polite child. He notes that you still hang on that book for dear life.

He slows his words intentionally, softens his tone to not unnerve you further. "Did I frighten you, little one? Are you scared of me?"

He observes your body, hands are shaking a little, fingers twitching at the book cover.

"… My parents don't like it when I refuse to eat either. But usually I have to eat it when dad tells me so. Even if I don't like the taste."

You answer quietly, but oh. Hearing that you not only understand his actions but your dad forces you to eat something you don't enjoy. That's a brand of cruelty that he finds distasteful. Forcing anybody to anything they're unwilling to is atrocious. At least, he manipulates and twists other's perceptions until people agree by themselves. He has enough finesse to do it the correct way after all.

"Is that so?" You only nod your head. Moreover you're not as tense anymore. Maybe that's what spurs him on to ask the next question, even if it has the ability to anger him further. "How old are you?" He leans in quickly enough to hear you say ten.

T e n .

"You're ten?" He voices his disbelief so quietly he doesn't know if he made any noise. He looks to his right then left almost looking for any possible threat because this child is ten years old and alone, left to their own devices. He's breathless for a moment, because at this discovery he feels unreasonably protective. "…and how long will it be until your mother picks you up?" His eyes take every detail of your face, hoping that it won't be long. But his hopes are crushed like the bread beforehand.

"It's usually 4:48PM…" What kind of parent leaves a child alone for 3 hours?! Truly horrible one, apparently.

"…I'm a big kid." Ohh… The instinct to kill anyone who would even dare to ruin that innocence overwhelms him for a second. He harshly tugs on his control to smile pleasantly at you, "Then you wouldn't mind my company then?"

He receives a shake of your head as an answer. It's so frustratingly easy to have your trust. How come nobody took advantage of that already, he does not know. But he will try his best to keep an eye out for you from now on.

Which he'd be doing a poor job since, at some point, you seemed to have disappeared into thin air from one second to the next. He grew alarmed instantly when he didn't see you next to him. Looking around for you or possible suspects wondering how he didn't notice anyone move. That was until he heard a giggle. He whips around to see a child's shadow behind the tree. He felt instant relief, his heart slowing it's alarming rate.

Apparently someone thought it'd be a good idea to play hide and seek without telling him. And since you're not in danger…

Well… Two can play that game.

"Little one? Where have you gone to?" Another muffled giggle can be heard. "I didn't get to become friends with you properly…" He overexaggerates his sadness. "How will I play with you when I don't even know your name little flower?" He stomps his foot dramatically, childishly, "And now you're gone and we won't meet anymore. Because I don't know how to find you…"

Now those adorable giggles turn into full blown laughter. You step away from the tree and easily run to him to hug his legs.

"You're so silly! We're already friends!" He hugs back to the best of his abilities. And says with, not even faked, surprise: "Really?! I didn't know that!"

"Besides we can meet here in the park, I come here after school, most of the time."

He feels a gentle smile on his face. Being in your presence for such a short time already make him feel lighter and his world a little brighter. Such an easy happiness. "That's good."

"Yeah, also my names is (y/n)! Now you know me." You clap your hands, excited, and go to sit on the bench again.

(y/n), what a beautiful name. I'll protect you, (y/n). No harm will come to you.

He looks at his wristwatch. 4:04. Soon you're getting home. He will walk you there.

When he asks if he can, you agree, again. Turns out he could only walk you to the school gates. Your mother picking you up with a car.

He chose to depart from you, but he stayed to observe from afar. He was displeased since it looked like the mother is malnourished as well as tired. Most of the fault lies solely on your father then. She at least looks a little overworked. It's clear your parents are unfit for the responsibility of caring for a child.

Soon (y/n) will rely on him for everything. He can't wait to meet again.

Back to Reader's POV

When you were finally let out of the closet you were tired. Emotionally drained. You couldn't draw for Mr. Loaf Man now, since you didn't have any energy. You went to the bathroom almost immediately.

Now you are laying on your bed, under the comfort of your blanket and beloved plushie. You pray you'll have time to draw something tomorrow at school. You already put your crayons in your backpack. You just need time. It doesn't even matter to you how it'll turn out. But you can't, won't go empty handed.

You fall into dreamless slumber.

And so you wake up next morning and go through the motions until you're at school. Then at breaks you sit somewhere on the sidelines, using the time to draw the most standard and boring drawing ever. First you did him then yourself. Then you drew a sun in the corner. You wrote who's who just in case. On the next break you drew the green grass and lastly the blue sky.

You're happy it's friday today. That means Mr. Loaf Man and the weekend.

When your lessons end you're in a hurry and have a slight spring in your step. You're basically vibrating with anticipation. You'll head straight to the same bench as yesterday.

But when you arrive… You gasp. He's already there waiting for you. You feel a wide grin spread on your face in happiness. When he notices you, his expression lifts as well.

"Hello (y/n). We're giddy today aren't we?"

"Yes!" You nod your head quickly a couple of times, it made you dizzy. "I have something for you, Mr. Loaf Man!" His eyes widen at that. Whether it's your nickname for him or your gift you don't know. You take off your backpack and immediately open it to reach the drawing.

"I'm sorry it's not good and not pretty enough but I was in a hurry." You hand it to him. He holds it gently as if afraid of crumbling it. He looks at it for a long time in complete silence. So much so that slowly your proud smile gets smaller and smaller. "You don't like it…?" Your voice wavers slightly under your sadness. Your blurry eyes make their way from his face to focusing on his tie.

"What-?" His voice croaks as if he didn't speak for days. "I love it."

You look up at that. "Really?" His face is unguarded. His eys are shiny, one tear already ran down his left cheek. His eyebrows are twitching as if they're unsure which way to go.

"Of course, it's just… it's been… s-such a long while since I got a gift. And one so, so lovely and meaningful as well." He open his arms offering a hug. You take him up on it. His grip on you is unyielding. "Come on, don't cry. There's no need." You hoop your arms around his neck and press your face to his shoulder. He picks you up into his lap. "I appreciate your efforts behind this, alright?" is gently whispered to your ear. You choose this moment to pat his hair, in — what you hope for — is a soothing gesture. You don't know if you succeeded since he started trembling.

He doesn't let you go for a long while. But you don't either.

When both of you are back to decently presentable — and not falling apart — you break away from each other.

"I have something for you too. Nothing as thoughtful though…" He takes the grocery bag that was next to him and reaches inside. He passes to you another packaged bread. You take it and immediately dig in. You thank him for it. "Are you going to offer food to them again? Or did you already did that today?"

He looks at you then to the homeless then back to you. "No and no. I think I'll give them a week to think over their actions, hmm?" He tilts his head in askance.

But you nod your head, "Makes sense. I do that at home too. Maybe it'll work for them too."

His eyes narrow, "What do you mean?"

"When I refuse to eat, I have to. And when i waste food, usually it's after I throw up. I don't get to eat to make up for all the wasted food." You smile up at him, "That's why I like you, sir. You're very kind and fun but you're very fair. But…" You take a thoughtful expression, "I don't get it… why refuse food? They need it after all and unlike me, it's not easily available to them. It'd be really stupid if they did the same in a week."

You focus back on the man's face only to be met with an impressed and proud expression. You feel your cheeks warm up at that look.

"You're very smart and observant, little one;" his soft voice prods at your shyness, "not everyone sees it the same way you do."

When your eyes don't lift from the ground, he speaks up again. "Do you wish to stay here or go somewhere else?"

You look up at him in question.

"What? I have some ideas…"

Salesman's POV

He finds his yesterday's behavior a little ridiculous. Moreover over a child he barely knows anything about. He couldn't put his obssessive focus towards learning more. With only their name and the fact (y/n) has horrendous parents.

Unfortunately for him, he didn't pay any attention to their mother's car registration plate. At least then he'd have a starting point. At this point in time however he can look into the school. The type of students there and the staff.

It did nothing to calm his mind.

He spent his time in bed thinking of many ways to bring them closer to him. How he should go with disposing their parents when he finally learns where you live.

The following morning he wakes from restless sleep and stayed that way throughout his day. Five people he approached to recruit and each time his hand was twitching to use the pent up energy on slapping the trash.

Arriving to the park at similar time as the day before wasn't a problem. Although he automatically sits down on the same bench. Call him overeager and impatient all you want. He has enough patience to wait for you.

And waiting for you he was. He didn't even learn if you have time to come here today.

But he shouldn't have worried, he sees your small form approaching him with clear joy. The moment he notices you, he feels his mood improve. He's not even sure if he manages to contain his own happiness over your eagerness.

"Hello (y/n). We're giddy today aren't we?"

"Yes! I have something for you, Mr. Loaf Man!" His eyes widen at that. Loaf man? However did you come up with that? And did he hear correctly..? You brought something for him?

Quickly your backpack's on the ground and a paper's in your hands. He looks at the paper and his breathing stops. A drawing.

You made a drawing for him, of him and you. "I'm sorry it's not good and pretty enough but I was in a hurry." He can't tear his eyes away from it. He gingerly accepts it from you. Your hands did this. For him. You spent enough of your time thinking about him, in good light nonetheless, that you had to put your thoughts and feelings on paper. It's the most precious thing he came across in a long time.

"You don't like it…?" He barely catches your voice. But when he registers the insecurity in it. He finally looks at you, however it does little, because he doesn't know when he started tearing up.

"What-?" His voice croaks from the sheer pressure of emotions. But he'll sooner kill himself than make you feel inadequate, unappreciated, unloved. "I love it." You have to know that.

"Really?" Fragile hope in your voice is enough to render his tailored armor useless. How does he explain?

"Of course, it's just…" he breathes deeply, "it's been… s-such a long while since I got a gift." Does he even remember the last time? "And one so, so lovely and meaningful as well." He needs to hold you. In this moment he craves to bring you as close as he can to his normally unfeeling heart. He open his arms in invitation.

You take him up on it too.

He grips you strongly. You can't leave him. Not when you demolished his foundation, unearthing emotions he never thought he could feel. You simply can't. He'll lose himself completely.

"Come on, don't cry. There's no need." He doesn't know if it's directed at you or himself. Your small arms wrap around his neck, your face tries to bury itself in his shoulder. He picks you up to hold onto you more comfortably. He presses his head against yours. "I appreciate your efforts behind this, alright?"

His thumb moves up and down on your back. He drowns in his overwhelming love for you. That's when he feels your hand. Your fingers going through his hair, petting him.

Here he is. A monster reduced into quivering mess. Wrapped around your little finger. You're such a devious yet innocent little marvel. You don't even do this on purpose. To have him ready and willing to bend to your every whim in no time at all.

It takes a long while for both of you to calm down and for him to regain his control. You break away from each other when you're sure neither of you won't fall apart all over again.

"I have something for you too. Nothing as thoughtful though…" He reaches next to him for the bag he nearly forgot about. Since he can't trust your parents about your nutrition, he'll take it upon himself. Three hours is a long time for you to grow hungry anyway. There's no harm in providing food. You take the bread from him and with a quick thank you start eating.

"Are you going to offer food to them again? Or did you already did that today?"

He looks at you. You never even talked to them and you're concerned for them. He looks at their pathetic figures, lying, wasting away in the sun. They're undeserving of your concern. He looks back at you and your questioning expression.

"No and no." He shakes his head, he doesn't even want to think about them much less approach. Even if he knows he'll have to at some point. "I think I'll give them a week to think over their actions, hmm?" He tilts his head in mimicry of your action yesterday.

And just like the other times, you don't question his actions nor motives. You simply nod your pretty head.

"Makes sense. I do that at home too. Maybe it'll work for them too."

His eyes narrow at that.

"What do you mean?" He can feel his shackles raising. Such a dangerous territory…

"When I refuse to eat, I have to. And when i waste food, usually it's after I throw up. I don't get to eat to make up for all the wasted food."

So not only is your father shoving food down your throat… He starves you for not holding it down as well. If he ever gets his hands on that repulsive monster, he'll make sure he suffers greatly for his sins.

Your large smile grounds him away from his plans. Even if that smile shouldn't be so wide after talking about your abuse. How did your innocence survive the ordeal?

"That's why I like you, sir. You're very kind and fun but you're very fair."

Him? Fair? Kind? He's flattered you think so, but he doesn't see it. It's probably because your childish view wasn't ruined. You never saw him do anything truly monstrous. He'll make sure you don't.

"But.. I don't get it… why refuse food? They need it after all and unlike me, it's not easily available to them. It'd be really stupid if they did the same in a week." Your pout is very cute and he'd probably focus on it for longer if not for what you said.

You intelligent and observant little creature, you make him feel emotions he didn't before. He's impressed how someone so young can be smarter than the common person. Maybe there's still hope after all. You might not have been acquaintanced for long, barely a day, but he feels pride for your astuteness. He latched onto you. You're his; his light in this dark world with deceptive roads and sharp curves covered with shadows. He'll nurture that intelligence to the best of his abilities.

He sees you blush at his attention, poor thing… You must be so unused to positive attention. He won't let it continue. With a softness he didn't know he's capable of, he voices the compliments. "You're very smart and observant, little one; not everyone sees it the same way you do."

When you still don't look up, he speaks again. This time on a different topic, away from his admiration. Baby steps.

"Do you wish to stay here or go somewhere else?" It works wonders. You look up with a question in your eyes. "What? I have some ideas…

…What do you think about ice-cream?" His suggestion makes your eyes light up with excitement. His world is a little brighter for it.

He'd take you to every shop and buy you anything you'd briefly glance at if that's how you'll look everytime. Just for a chance to see your smiles again.

After ice-cream, you spent the time by simply being in each other's company. You wanted to go back to the park and so you did, but this time to a different part of it. Far away from those hopeless causes. The time flew past just as quickly as the day before. But this time when he walked you to your school's gate and left to observe from afar. He remembered to memorise the licence plate.

He can get to know you to his heart's content. But first, home.

I feel like my brand of weirdness clashed with Salesman's diffrent kind of freak; but I don't think he's too OOC..?

I hope you liked it. <3 There are other parts I have in store, but they can act as stand alone. Tell me if you want me to write them.

There's no masterlist for Squid Game yet

[mingisaddctn]

mind over matter | s.mg

Pairing: best friend!mingi x reader Genre: [+18] smut w/o plot Warnings: jussss smut, enjoy a/n: first fic on this blog yay

the two things you can be sure in life is that 1. you will die and 2. you've never wanted to suck a dick so bad.

I mean, you always knew that your best friend was hot — you had eyes, for god's sake! — but holy shit.

it started when you ran out of cat food. you were an attentive cat owner, don't get me wrong, but at the same time, you had the worst week for your mental state. exams after exams, studying 'till the library basically had to kick you out and group projects with lazy people... so that's how it ended up with your cat screaming at the top of their lungs and waking you up from your power nap.

mingi happened to be around because, guess what, you also forgot about your plans to watch that new anime that he rambled all about for the past month, and truly, you wanted to be able to enjoy some quality time with him, but you fell asleep as quick as his cursor pressed play on the screen, the warmth that irradiated from both inside his hoodie that you were wearing to where your head laid on his shoulder was too cozy.

so when you got up to feed the cat, your heart dropped, and you saw the grocery list accumulating dust on top of the counter, the 'cat food' underlined three times. you looked outside the windows of your small apartment and saw that the simple drizzle from before now turned into a full on storm, and all you could do was lean onto the counter and bawl your eyes out.

mingi was startled but tried to comfort you somehow, not really sure of what he could do to help, and as you tried to tell him between hiccups and tears, he quickly grabbed his jacket and told you that he would be right back.

twenty minutes later, a full-on drenched mingi stood on the doorstep, chest heaving as he took off his shoes and the same jacket, now in a darker tone from the wetness. you stared back from your couch, as you were curled into the throw blankets, eyes widened.

you almost forgot about the cat food.

in your defense, it should be illegal the way his white tee clung to his abs so sinfully highlighting each of his muscles. and when he rose his arms to take off his cap and ran his fingers between wet strands of hair that framed his cheekbones, your eyes fixated on the way his sweats clung onto dear life to his v-line.

holy fuck. jesus christ. oh my god. whatever divinity that was out there.

"you okay?" he asked, as if he was expecting your answer and you shook your head, trying to escape the trance you found yourself in.

"what? why?"

"i asked if i could use your shower" he placed the single bag with the cat food on the counter as he tried not to wet your floor.

you can use me, for sure; you thought to yourself.

"yeah, yeah, go ahead" you nodded and he took his shirt off on the way to the bathroom.

you quickly jumped from the couch to feed the cat — since that was the prime reason for all the ruckus. as you put the blocks of minced meat on the food bowl, you caught yourself fantasizing about it again.

how good he should be looking, as droplets of rain still lingered on his skin as he took of the sweatpants slowly, leaving only the boxers that perfectly held his firm thighs and secured his—

meow, you looked down, to find that a block of meat fell beside the bowl and you took a deep breath. control yourself.

you blamed the ovulation. or maybe the fact that you haven't been sexually active in a while. or that movie that had hot scenes with your favorite actor... gosh you were a horny mess.

but your life has basically been all about your studies lately, and the stress was clouding your reasoning, making you feel like impulsive decisions were now worth a lot, and that's how you found yourself standing outside your bathroom door, idly looking at it with your hand raised, on the way to give it a knock.

the thing is, the moment you found the courage to do it, the door opened from the inside, and only mingi's torso popped out, in the middle of calling your name, but now confused that you were on the other side.

all that led to the both of you sitting on the edge of your bed, with him only wearing a towel around his hips, not staring at each other as the silence overcame the storm from outside.

"so... you want to suck my dick...?" he simply repeated your words from minutes ago.

it would be comical if it wasn't so tragic.

"yes."

"are you feeling okay?" he asked.

"yes."

"'then... how should we do it?"

you took another sharp breath, your lungs almost failing you as your mind tried to disassociate from your body. leaving the bed to kneel in front of him, you kept your eyes focused on his face, his lips parted as his eyes were half-lidded. from all the years you'd known him, you knew that he was probably overthinking it and trying to figure out what was happening. but neither you could tell.

your fingers slid to the towel and as you were going to take it off, his hand flew to yours, holding it softly. he pulled you towards him in a swift movement and placed his palm on your cheek, nose now brushing against yours. soon after, you felt the plumpness of his lips onto yours.

"wait" he leaned back cautiously, as though any minor movement would startle you like a scared kitten. his eyes overthinking each and every detail. "I want to kiss you first."

and as if you were waiting for that to snap, you grabbed his neck and pulled his face lower so you could slide your tongue into his mouth. his big hands fell to your hips and grabbed firmly, decided not to let you run away.

you kinda wondered before how good of a kisser mingi was, your friends joked around saying that it must be good since he has fat lips, but you usually kept those thoughts at bay, not really wanting to dive into your hidden desires. it wasn't like you, to explore and try new things. you became friends a long time ago, and when he earned that title, you felt like it would be too messy to see him as anything else.

but you weren't dumb, of course you'd noticed how a blush crept to his cheeks whenever you grabbed one of his hoodies, or how he would stutter when others teased him about you. he wasn't good at hiding things, and you weren't good at ignoring them.

one of his hands snuck to your neck and the pulled you closer, his breathing growing heavier to the point that you could hear a faint groan from his throat.

shit, you moaned.

he let go of your face and you leaned back, a little ashamed of the noise that escaped you, but mingi didn't seem to mind, in fact, his cheeks could be mistaken to a tomato. he shifted in his place and you noticed the tent in his pants. oh.

placing a final kiss on his cheek, you maintained eye contact as you lowered yourself to your knees, hands falling to his covered member, feeling the warmth through the towel and earning a sharp gasp from him. licking your lips, you only broke the intense stare to undo the lousy knot, uncovering his lower body.

oh. OH.

how did he hide that monstrous thing all along?

"uh... pants, I guess..." he said almost in a whisper, and then you realized that you were thinking out loud.

"shit, I mean, it's not a bad thing" you placed your hand at the base of his cock, wrapping your palm around it and the boy hissed. "I just... didn't expect that."

"so you thought about it before?" touché. you deflected by giving him a slow tug.

before he could say anything else, you lowered your head and wrapped your lips around him.

"fffuck-" he let out, throwing his head back.

you started bobbing your head at a slower pace, quickening each time he groaned, and listened to his raspy moans as if they were songs hidden in heaven. his hand ran through your hair, pulling at the strands just light enough to make you whine, the vibrations helping into the pleasure.

"please—" he pled, eyes fixated on you and wet hair sticking to his face. he couldn't look any better, you noted.

mingi stared right into your soul with deep, dark eyes. his nose was flaring up and trying to keep up with the sharp breaths that left his parted mouth. it was as if he belonged in that position, and you wished that you had midas touch to keep him like that forever.

"so pretty" you said more to yourself than to him, and one of your fingers snuck into his mouth, and he wrapped those plump lips around it to suck.

feeling his tongue under your skin made shivers run down your spine, and even though you tried to take in more, he pulled you towards him once more, now landing you onto his lap. mind you, his naked lap. your pajama shorts did nothing to the mixture of pre-cum and saliva that rubbed under fabric. you hoped he couldn't feel the wetness that was forming between your legs.

kissing you again, you wondered how your teeth were not clashing at all from the desperation that exuded from both parts. you wanted him as much as he ever had wanted you, and it didn't seem like a real experience. the euphoria that overtook you made you feel almost dizzy from all the exchange in pheromones and fluids, holy fuck, you wanted to stay like that forever.

while he kissed you, mingi's hand went to the bottom of your shorts, holding you so you wouldn't fall as he took them off, leaving you in his hoodie and panties. you didn't remember what kind of underwear you wore, but you hoped to whatever god that was out there that it was something without a hole or anything.

without taking the panties off, he slid them to the side and ran both his middle and ring fingers along your folds, the new feeling making you jump a little, and he giggled. the motherfucker giggled.

"jeez... can't wait to be inside you" he said against your lips, hissing as you gave him an experimental roll of your hips.

holding your panties to the side, he grabbed his cock and aligned himself to your folds, placing the tip inside and a loud whimper fell from your mouth. you knew that it would take more effort to get him inside, he was the biggest you've ever been with, and mingi also seemed to notice that, so he touched you as if you were made of glass.

the warmth of his hot member now sheathing inside your pussy felt like too much, and the room felt foggy, just as your breaths. he kissed the side of your neck, licking up to your ear and groaning ever so slightly, as if he had noticed how much you reacted to those sounds, using them now against you.

the moment you reached the bottom, you felt as if your internal organs would combust. his dick felt like too much and too good, you drank from the sensations and the tingles that your body left each time he moved an inch, clenching around him. you reached your hands to the hem of the hoodie you were wearing, but his hand left your lower back to stop yours.

"leave it on" he looked up at your face with puppy eyes. "I want to fuck you in my clothes."

OH. FUCK.

you moaned into his mouth and slowly started to move your hips. you could've cum just from his words, but you tried your best to concentrate in making him feel good.

"you feel so good around me" he whined, a short moan leaving his lips to meet yours again.

you didn't know how you looked at that moment, probably a mess. from taking in all the sensations, his huge cock and the way he looked like a whiny mess under you... you felt powerful, and he was letting you use him to your wishes.

"please, please" he whined even more, probably taking notes that you got off from that.

"what is it, big boy?" as soon as the words fell from your mouth, you questioned yourself. is this really me?

"let me fuck you right" his hips shot up, taking you by surprise with a gasp and he bit your collarbone. "I wanna be good for you- wanna make you feel good."

"use me however you want" you said in a desperate tone. not even minding how it looked to him, you truly wanted everything from him.

with one arm sneaking around your back and the other on your neck, he moved you further into the bed, now on top of you. he didn't say anything else, only left a small kiss on the corner of your mouth and gave you a slow thrust.

the most high pitched moan fell from your lips, and you didn't care to be embarrassed. not when he was pleading for you, having your body wrapped so deliciously around him, the same as his.

you could write paragraphs and paragraphs about the way he looked; the occasional lightnings shining against his wet skin, highlighting each of his curves and muscles while his hair fell above his forehead, now a mess from the way you rushed your fingers between strands.

mingi kept rolling his hips against yours, and words kept falling randomly from your mouth, meddling with moans and sobs, you felt so cockdrunk that even the slightest stimulation coming from him could make you shed tears. felt so fucking good that got you questioning every life choice you've ever made to this point, as if everything was a part of god's plan for you to end up right under your best friend, as his touches made love to your limbs.

"hm-ugh- feels so fucking- oh my god" you kept going on and on, not even sure yourself what you were saying, but mingi wasn't falling behind.

the knot had already taken place on your lower body, each of his thrusts feeling more intense than the other. you could tell he was getting closer from the way his teeth were nipping on your neck and his thrust were growing sloppier.

"please-ah!-please, let me cum inside you" he left your neck to look at you, and you felt the knot tightening and your legs starting to tremble. "let me fill you nice and full- please"

"yes, I want all of you" you almost screamed when he took that as confirmation to grab your back and glue his chest to yours, sharpening his thrusts.

it finally snapped and you felt like you couldn't breathe anymore. he held you so close as if he could melt into your skin and become one, and with a final thrust, he whined and groaned and screamed and did everything so involuntarily, almost animalistic, and your mind was too dazed to even comprehend anything else besides the way that your pussy gripped him so tight, keeping his hot seed inside you. you didn't want to let it go.

you were still spasming from your orgasm when he let go of your body and snapped your legs apart, taking place in between them, nuzzling his nose onto your pubic bone and feasting. his tongue lapped each of yours and his juices without mind, sucking, kissing, moaning, grunting, only to prolong the way your climax came down; you screamed so hard that your lungs burned.

falling limp on the bed covers, he let go, going back on top of you with the support of his arms and knees, face leveled to yours when he placed an innocent kiss on the tip of your nose and another one to your forehead.

"did it help you de-stress?" he joked and you placed one of your arms onto your eyes.

scoffing, you shook your head. "holy shit, I'm in love with you."

he gave you a slight push and rolled to his side, still staring at you with a darker flush across his chest and neck.

"well, I'm yours" he said and you licked your lips, sneaking a glance from under your arm.

"yeah, you better be."

[lxcalmenace]

Some silly scenarios with bluelock boys

Based on this headcanon post

Characters included < Isagi, Bachira, Nagi, Rin, Sae and Kaiser > X gn!reader (separate)

tw: none?

⟡Isagi Yoichi - Gets into twitter discourse.

After what felt like months, it seemed that yours and Isagi's schedules had finally aligned. You entered his apartment and made your way to the living room to greet Isagi; just then you saw him sitting on the couch, a furrowed expression crossing his face and his phone in his hand. He was aggresively typing and scrolling on his phone that he failed to notice you taking a seat next to him.

"Oh shoot I didn't see you, sorry", he mutters as he shifts, allowing you to sit comfortably.

"Are you seriously arguing on twitter?," was all you said that made Isagi look away in embarrassment. Ofcourse he didn't want to admit it straight away but he was indeed losing the said argument.

"You know you don't have to prove anything to anyone right? And who even takes twitter seriously nowadays?"

You watched as Isagi let of a small huff before turning off his phone. Without a word, he pulled you in a gentle embrace as the rest of your evening blurred out into soft giggles and tender moments.

⟡Bachira Meguru - Very willing to eat inedible things.

You have been waiting to buy those food inspired scented candles for God knows too many days now; until finally, you managed to get your hands on one of them recently. It was a pancake inspired candle. It was so realistic that you could barely tell it was fake—if it weren’t for the wick sticking out of the top, you might have thought it was an actual pancake

As you opened the box, the mouthwatering, sugary smell of pancakes hit you, spreading throughout the room. This candle was too realistic and just like that, Bachira was willing to sink his teeth into the wax block.

"If it smells so good, it has to taste good too! Let me have just a bite please [name]," he whined. Bro dropped to his knees begging and pleading in exaggerated desperation- as if he would've perished due to hunger right then and there. You couldn't help but chuckle at this sight.

"Ok fine...A little bite won't hurt, but don't come complaining to me later," you sighed as you surrendered the candle to Bachira.

Disgust. Pure disgust washed over his face after he took the bite. He looked at you with teary eyes as he desperately tried to get rid of the nasty taste of the wax; which in response, you just shrugged in a 'I told you so' manner. After helping him wash his mouth and feeding him chocolates to counter the unpleasant flavor, you both finally settled down. Bachira swore that he wouldn't eat anything weird after this incident.

He tried eating cotton the next week.

⟡Nagi Seishiro - Uses two-in-one shampoo and conditioner.

Nagi was out shopping for some groceries while you were tagging alone for some snacks. It was a sunny day, you both entered the supermarket; Nagi took the basket as you made your way inside. He thinks shopping for basic necessities is a hassle and thus the reason for you tagging along to keep him company. You were free to get anything you wanted so you looked around the store, but nothing caught your eye. So you decided to go back, you spotted your tall boyfriend and made your way towards him. He was in the hygiene isle, eyeing down some shampoo bottles.

"Do you seriously use 2-in-1 shampoo? -" you ask, raising your eyebrow. Nagi looked at you with an unbothered expression as he shrugged, "Uh, yeah. Been using that since forever"

"Why are you asking me this, something wrong with it?" the tall male added while casually putting another bottle in the cart.

"Your hair is always so silky and soft; Its hard to believe that a simple 2-in-1 could give you those results. I mean, people spend a ton of money on haircare products, to achieve what you have, you know?" you replied.

"Then, thanks to my genes, I guess," he smirked as he turned around to look at you. You couldn't help but sigh and let out a chuckle. There was absolutely no point in arguing with Nagi- He always managed to win, even when he wasn't trying. You raised your hands as if you were surrendering, and then you both made your way further into the store.

Nagi is a simple guy, and slowly over time, you are starting to find comfort in his simplicity.

⟡Rin Itoshi - Plays roblox.

"Rin, dinner's ready, come down!" You yelled from the kitchen whilst serving the food on the table. A few unresponsive minutes passed, so you decided to fetch Rin yourself; thinking he might be in the shower or taking a nap. Making your way to the shared bedroom, you knocked on the door before poking your head through.

There he was, sitting on his gaming chair, with the lights out, playing..roblox..? You observed him for a couple of minutes, his face was illuminated by the screen, ever so unfazed; Rin was too immersed playing The Mimic that he failed to notice you slowly creeping up on him. The only time Rin was caught off guard was when you tapped his shoulder to get his attention. You swore you saw Rin's face go pale for a second as his eyes widen in surprise. "You play roblox?," you asked as you raised your brows in amusement.

He took off his headset and he nodded, "Is dinner ready?"

"It is"

"Alright"

You both stared at each other.

"Can we play Dress to impress later? Rin please-"

"NO."

Few moments later, the dark haired striker was seen playing Dress to impress, all the bright colors and outfits flashed on his screen display.

"You're doing incredibly well, who would've thought you had those designer skills in you Rinnie," you teased him

"Oh shut up...I just don't like losing, ok?" he scoffed but there was a small smile creeping on his lips.

You rolled your eyes playfully, knowing very well that he only agreed to play this if only you were ready to join him in his horror games. It was a win-win situation for both of you.

⟡Sae Itoshi - Had an emo phase

Your phone was buzzing for quite some time now so you finally decided to check who was texting you at this time of the night. Sae was on his way home from practice; Deciding to stay up and wait for him to get home, you layed down on the couch while keeping a random movie playing in the background. As you opened the chat, you couldn't help but burst into laughter- There were old pictures of Sae; eyes lined with eyeliner, hair was dyed dark and swooped to a side and he was wearing dark clothes. You saved all the pictures one by one as you swiped for more, that's when you heard the door open- signaling that Sae had returned home. Quickly turning off your phone, you were trying so hard to contain your laughter, but a giggle escaped your lips.

Sae muttered a small, "What are you up to [name]?" before raising an eyebrow at you. He knew that you had something cooking up due to the way you were smiling at him.

"Sae," you purred, "if hypothetically someone were to leak your embarrassing pictures, what would you do?" you grinned.

You watched as Sae's expressions went from neutral to that of pure horror.

"[Name] don't you dare-" he warned.

"I'm not saying that I have any embarrassing pictures of you tho," you replied, "It was a hypothetical question, unless," a smirk formed on your lips as you looked at Sae. "You never know what could happen next."

His eyes widen in disbelief, he knew that you had something against him. "Fine, I don't have the energy to do this. Tell me what do you want," he sighed, giving up. "But atleast show me these hypothetical pictures you have acquired, and where did you even get them from?"

You giggle as you showed him all of the pictures; to which he openly cringed hard. He was definitely not expecting this. It brought back so many of his memories before going to Spain. He sighed as he accepted his faith and made his way to the bedroom to freshen up. You typed a quick 'Thank you' and sent the chat.

"Rin reacted '👍' to your chat."

⟡Michael Kaiser - Sleeps in till noon

'12:27'

It was past noon. You had finished making breakfast, eating it, doing some chores around the house, watering the plants, having a small snack and watching a few episodes of your favorite show, and yet your boyfriend was still in your bed, sleeping peacefully. You would've chalked it up to him being tired, but he had gone to bed exceptionally early too. It was starting to concern you now. What if he was not feeling well? You made your way to the bedroom and entered it silently. There he was, soft breathing and sleeping peacefully. You sat down beside him and gently touched his forehead to check if he was sick. Everything was fine. You decided to run your fingers through his messy bed hair, untangling any small knots. Michael slowly started to stir and the first thing he did was kiss your hand, which made your lips morph into a small smile.

"Good morning, mein Schatz," He mumbled groggily, "What time is it?" he asked while rubbing his eyes. He let out a yawn as he sat up your bed

"Its good afternoon now, wake up Micha," you continue to run your fingers through his blonde locks as he embraced you, still feeling sleepy.

You pat his head, "C'mon have your lunch, you must be hungry."

"Are you on the menu?" he muttered against your shoulder.

". . ."

"Then no, I dont want to eat"

"Michael no-"

Not proofread so ignore any mistakes and ty for reading !!