#they did not deserve to be treated that way

[suiana]

thinking of a guilt ridden reader and a silly manipulative yandere who looks exactly like someone from reader's past.

maybe you did something bad to a friend, perhaps ended a relationship on bad terms with someone who never deserved to be treated badly. whatever it is, just the mere thought of that person causes you to physically curl up and pray for forgiveness.

so you spend the rest of your days like a dead man walking, the guilt of your actions clawing at the depths of your heart. it makes it hard to do anything, let alone think. because when you are left alone with your thoughts, all you can imagine is their expression when everything went wrong. oh how you'd give up anything just to change the past and your actions.

as if your guilt wasn't enough, he just had to skip into your life looking exactly like that person. like them.

at first, you thought of this as a curse. this... this stupid guy? looking exactly like them? then as you sort of warmed up to him, you still think it's a curse. because what gave him the audacity to come into your life, looking like them, and telling you how much he wants you? especially claiming that it was love at first sight and that you two were fated to be?

"i love you."

"can i be yours?"

"we'd be so good together."

you keep pushing him away. you know how this will end up, with you messing up just like last time. wouldn't it be better to just keep him at a distance? unfortunately for you he doesn't seem to think so. and it's like a curse. a demon from your past coming back to haunt you in the form of your greatest mistake.

if anything, your costant rejections only seem to keep him wanting... more?

"please, just one chance. that is all I'm asking for."

"no? you don't want to entertain me even the slightest bit?"

"how cruel, i never realised you were this heartless."

you eventually end up giving in. he just has that sort of effect you suppose. or maybe it's the guilt that's constantly eating you alive that's causing you to make this decision. after all, he looks so much like them and... you don't know what you'd do if he looked at you like that. not ever, not again. maybe this would be your way of making up for your wrong doings.

he couldn't be happier obviously. finally! the person he's been pining over finally accepted his confession! even if it took a long time, it all worked out. you're happy, his happy, everyone's happy!

until he found out you're not actually happy and you're just doing this because you feel guilty.

"what do you mean? am i just a replacement to you? a way to correct your mistakes?"

"hah! you're so- ugh, I don't even want to think about you anymore."

"save it, those are just excuses."

he's always been a manipulative person. he knows. and he knows that you know it too. yet he continues to manipulate you through it all. i mean, it's your fault for even treating him like a second option in the first place! what? he's the one that's been pestering you? no no, you could've just rejected him. it's not his fault, it's yours. you're not stopping him anyway so like, you're basically admitting you're in the wrong.

"yeah you should be sorry. how mean do you have to be to think of me just as someone you've hurt? I'm my own person too."

he says that but continues to use the fact that his familiarity elicits something in you. and he'll continue abusing it, continue taking advantage of your weakened state. why? because he can and because he wants to.

plus, it's amusing in it's own right to see you bending head over heels just to appease him. huh, guess the guilt runs deep, doesn't it?

oh it's whatever. he'll slowly condition you to start showing him the affection he so desperately craves anyway. he just needs to hold on a little longer. break you down a tiny bit more and then you'll be all his. he can feel it.

you two will be truly happy together. no other people, no guilt in your heart. just you and him, alone and content with one another.

that would simply be salvation, wouldn't it?

[zzbubblegumbitchzz]

teach me? // Quinn Hughes

a drunk conversation leaves your best friend wondering.

AN: based off this anon, this is the first of a few ideas i have for this topic so enjoy part one!🫶🏻

WC: 1.1k

CW: smut, quinn talks you through it, fem masturbating, a little bit of possessive quinn.

Quinn knows he should leave, he knows he shouldn't break your trust and listen but his feet won't move. He can hear your giggles, not a sign of discomfort in the conversation. A drastic difference from anytime you've been around the guys when these topics are brought up.

“y/n! Are you telling me you’ve never gotten off?!” There was another laugh, he couldn't tell who. Too focused on your answer. How could no one treat you right? No one’s found pleasure between your thighs? Tragedy for them, he thought to himself.

“Oh my god, no. I have gotten off, just not manually? If that makes sense. Like, no one else. No hands, nothing but the handy dandy vibrator.”

He needed to leave, his mind wandering and he knew all the guys would just chirp at him if he walked back with a hard on.

Everyone started to slowly make their way to bed, calling it a night yourself around 1:30. Your room right across from Quinn’s. You knew he was already locked away, trying your best to stay quiet while you were in and out of the bathroom that shared a wall.

Finally settling in your bed and grabbing your phone, seeing a text from Quinn. Come here, please. Followed with another text, Don't knock, just come in.

“Hi Q.” He was quick to pat his bed, “I need to ask you something, and you can tell me no or to fuck off and I wont ever bring it up again. I just, I need to ask.” You nodded at the man, who's now pacing. “I’m telling on myself and I'm sorry in advance. I was walking by when you and the girls were chatting and somethings been stuck in my head since and it makes me feel so bad because you absolutely don't deserve that kind of shit treatment. Oh god, I'm rambling. Anyways, no one ever made you cum? I can show you, oh my god I need to shut up.”

Your face was flushed, your nerves were setting in. Did Quinn just offer to get me off?

As if he could read my mind, “I don’t have to do it! I can just tell you what to do. Like you get yourself off and I just kind of lead the way.”

“You wanna teach me how to make myself cum?” Your voice was small, he was sure if he wasn’t staring at you he wouldn’t have heard. He nodded.

“Yeah, okay. Teach me, Quinny.”

That dumb conversation led you here. On his bed, pj shorts on the floor, legs spread and Quinn watching you from his desk chair.

You were both giggly about it. The nerves settled, it seemed a little funny, silly even. But he's your best friend. Who cares? All bad thoughts went away the second your legs spread and the man's eyes went a little wide, pupils blown as he watched your hand roam down your body.

“Fuck. You’re pretty.” He whispered to himself.

This wasn't sexy, well it wasn't meant to be, at least to your brain.

“Uh, like this?" you asked, a little embarrassed. "Fuck, this is stupid."

You were against his pillows, unable to fully look at Quinn who was still at his desk, starry eyes watching you intently.

Your hand was down the front of your body, shaky fingers searching for something you shared you'd never been able to achieve on your own.

Quinn adjusted himself, his growing cock pressed against the fabric of his shorts. Forever wishing he put on boxers before you came to his room.

He didn't know the rules when it came to getting yourself off in front of your best friend. So he kept it a little light, laughed breathily and asked, "Are you even touching your clit?”

His words ran through you, a simple question truly but it was bordering on the dirty talk you desperately craved to come from his mouth.

You squirmed, shrugging, but he was watching your hand move, content with seeing your fingers moving through your folds.

"I think so?" you claimed. "I don't know. It's just, it's too wet to feel anything really."

Quinn felt his breath get stuck in his throat.

You finally looked up at his face and watched his cheeks burn, wondering if he'd move closer if you asked him to.

You dont know what fell out of your mouth, your brain is just on autopilot. Quinn’s now at the edge of his bed. Hands holding your ankle, rubbing softly.

"No, I know. fuck, um-" Quinn swallowed, shifting again. "Move in circles, be a bit softer. Fuck, sweetheart. Yeah, you'll feel it."

So you did, two fingers exploring slowly, up and down between your folds, moving a little higher until you reached the spot he was just picking on you for, the pads of your middle and pointer touching a little bump that made your breath hitch.

“There you go, just like that.” He spoke.

You laughed to yourself, feeling stupid, and floaty, searching for that high. You crinkled your nose, as you did slow circles, soft and shy.

"Oh," you mumbled, mouth parting slightly. Still watching Quinn. He pressed his lips together, eyes flickering from your hand to your face.

"Yeah? Does that feel good?"

"Uh huh, feels good."

You thought you heard him let out a groan.

"Will I come?" you asked, still feeling small. "If I keep doing this?"

You were squirming again, moaning softly, chasing your high. He was watching you, open mouthed.

He was too far gone to try and hide it anymore, when he dragged his palm over himself, you moaned, eyes following his movements.

"Yeah, fuck. just keep doing that. Do what feels good, okay?" voice hoarse and wrecked, "you're doing so good, baby."

The praise made your hips lift from the bed a little, fingers moving down a little further, confidence building as Quinn kept rubbing over his cock, "Holy shit, that's fucking hot. You gonna show me how tight you are?" he croaked.

"Uh huh", head tipped back into the pillows. you wanted him to keep talking. You just didn't know how to ask him.

Your foot slipped, bumping into Quinn’s arm and he caught your ankle, wide palm wrapping around as he held you, making you shiver. "Oh, there you go," he murmured. "That's it, baby. Fuck, you're so good. Gonna have to stretch you out more if you ever want me in there, baby. Fuck. Can't believe you're gonna let me watch you cum. Gonna be a good girl and show me how bad you want it? Won't ever need anyone else after this. Just me and you."

[possessedmen]

Haunted love

Elliot pushed open the door to their apartment, the familiar creak a comforting sound after a long day. The place was dim, lit only by the soft glow of a single lamp, casting shadows that danced on the walls. There, sprawled out on the chair with one foot up on the table like he owned the place, was Marco—or at least, Marco's body. But Elliot knew it was Lucas, the ghost of a previous tenant who had taken over Marco during their last explosive fight, possessing him when he wanted to slap Elliot.

"Hey, babe, you're finally home," Marco's voice was husky, playful, with that dark edge that was all Lucas. Elliot's heart raced, not just from the sight of Marco's foot, so invitingly displayed, but from the knowledge that Lucas was in control, making this homecoming charged with desire.

Elliot dropped his bag by the door, his eyes locked on Marco's foot, the arch so perfectly curved, the skin so smooth. "Damn, his body suits you so good," he said, his voice low as he approached, a smirk playing on his lips. He knew Lucas was exaggerating Marco's act, playing into his known weakness for feet, making this moment even more charged.

The ghost, through Marco's lips, let out a low, lustful chuckle, the sound more human than ever, laced with a hint of playful perversion. "I've been waiting for you, babe. You know how much I love having your attention on me like this," he replied, his voice thick with desire, his eyes gleaming with a naughty glint.

Marco chuckled, a sound that vibrated through the room, sending shivers down Elliot's spine. "I've been waiting for you, babe. Been thinking about your hands on me all day," he teased, wiggling his toes in a way that was both innocent and provocative.

Kneeling down, Elliot took Marco's foot in his hands, the warmth of his skin seeping into his palms. He began to worship it, his lips and tongue exploring every inch with devotion. But Lucas, ever the kinky instigator, had other plans. As Elliot focused on one foot, Marco's other foot slipped between Elliot's legs, finding the hard bulge in his pants. With a knowing smirk, Lucas began to massage Elliot's tenting bulge through the fabric, the pressure and movement sending waves of pleasure through him.

"You're driving me crazy," Elliot gasped, his hands tightening around Marco's ankle, his kisses growing more fervent on the foot he was worshipping.

Marco's laugh was low, seductive. "That's the idea, babe. I know what you like," he said, his voice full of perverted delight. The foot on Elliot's crotch moved with precision, teasing and taunting, while the one being worshipped was treated to a loving, sensual exploration.

As the pleasure built, Elliot couldn't help but voice his thoughts. "I prefer you like this, you know," he murmured against Marco's skin, his breath hot. "You're so much better than the real Marco ever was. I’m so grateful that you saved me by possessing that cheating bastard."

The ghost leaned forward, Marco's eyes twinkling with a kinky light. "I can't believe he fumbled a guy like you, babe. That asshole did not deserve you," he breathed out, his voice dripping with a seductive promise, his foot flexing under Elliot's touch in a silent plea for more.

As Elliot continued his passionate worship, his hands and lips exploring with an intensity that matched the ghost's desire, the air around them grew thick with lust. "I've been thinking about this all day," the ghost confessed, his tone both loving and lascivious, promising a night filled with the kind of intimacy Elliot craved.

In this moment, the distinction between ghost and man blurred. It was just Elliot and Marco, or what Marco had become, sharing a connection that was deeply human, wildly erotic, and utterly theirs. The air was thick with anticipation, their casual evening turning into a night of unbridled passion.

[theduck5]

its amazing what treating children like the small people they are can do for a kid. kids want attention, they can get it either negatively or positively. negative attention, if it is all they get, creates someone who does not know what to do in face of positive attention, nor how to gain it. so they do things to get attention, but negative attention(ie, getting yelled at, punished physically, etc)

but they aren't well rounded when they grow up. did you know babies die when not held? when not loved? we are social creatures, we desire attachment, connection, positive thoughts and emotions. but we are shaped by those around us. listening to children, our future, is so important. they want love, sometimes as simple as lighthearted astonishment, a nice smile, an attentive listener. someone who takes them seriously. they have big emotions, for they are so young, they may be feeling them for the first time, or do not understand their actions. but you can teach them, they'll understand.

why does the rule of not senselessly hurting people make sense? it is cruel, it hurts people. do they deserve to be hurt? why? they are only human, what gives one the right to decide who deserves to be hurt or not? we've gotten this far by helping each other.

children ask why why why because they do not know, they want want want because they do not understand sharing. but they can. we can tell them, explain in ways they understand. violence teaches fear, it does not teach respect. respect is garnered through deeds that others claim fair, reasonable. or hard ones, that they could not bear. you teach a child the feeling of pain when they cry, they will not cry. you teach a child the feeling of fear when they speak their truth, they will not speak. you punish a child for wanting to learn, they will not want to learn. children can understand cause and affect, they really do. they can empathize with unfairness, they can accept reasoning for actions taken or not. the reasons can just either be "crying and screaming makes me hurt," or "crying and screaming is unproductive, it does not get what i want, but there are other ways, like waiting."

explaining how the world works to a child gives the child information. "why cant we get candy?" "too much candy is not good for you." "why? its yummy" "the sugar can be bad for your teeth, so if you want candy you need to brush your teeth really well, and eat some vegetables, to balance it all out." "so i can have candy, but i have to do two things i dont want?" "yes" "mmm two candies for two actions" "alright, deal." this teaches a child how to be healthy, what is and isnt good for your body, and gives an understandable explanation of why not.

everything we know we've been taught. we know what anger is because we have felt it and had the feeling identified by another, or have been shown anger and connected the dots. we know what water is, because someone or something explained what liquid is. we know how to empathize, because we were taught how our actions affect others, and how this affects us. not everything we've been taught is necessarily by words, but by actions, connections of two different things, understanding of situations.

(sorry if this is all over the place i am So Tired but Incredibly Passionate about this subject)

I am exceptionally lucky in that my parents never hit me, grounded me, confiscated my things, banned me from my hobbies or threatened any of these actions to make me behave as a kid. as an adult it has made me realise how very very long a road most people have to traverse before they can take a statement like 'no rule that must be enforced by threat is legitimate' seriously.

[juricel]

heyyy its me again

I have a silly request for you which you can ignore if you want to, since I think your ask box is piling up haha!

basically,

Yandere reader x pre corrupt shadow milk cookie turns to reader x Yandere shadow milk cookie

Reader, at first is super obsessed and does a lot of stuff for pre-corrupted shadow milk cookie and hes like super disgusted by how they’re acting. And suddenly, reader disappears one day, and hes fine with it

beasts get corrupted then get jailed,,

while in jail shadow milk cookie misses how loving y/n was, and realised that he has taken them for granted </33 And now he wants them back because of how love deprived he became

when hes out of the silver tree he see’s y/n again and at first hes all hip hip hooray !! until he sees that y/ns clinging onto the THIEF!!!

he goes batshit crazy, you can be creative with this if you want or just give your little ideas/comments I just really want more food wahah

so sorry if this doesn’t make much sense, it’s 2am :’)

tysm for reading oh great one!! you don’t have to do this right away dont worry love ur work already

—💤non

a/n: it's okay, i understand what you were aimimg for! I focused on the other requests before this one and had some church duties to do, so I apologize for having you need to wait for so long.

— yandere! shadow milk cookie x past yandere! reader (ft. the bus driver, pure vanilla cookie.)

໒꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞꒱ა ۪ ׂ CONTENT WARNING: manipulation, physical abuse, heavy possessive and obssessive behavior, unhealthy relationship, implied forced established relationship, implied mindbreak, corruption, objectification, stalking, pure vanilla cookie needs a fucking break, one of these warnings is not like the rest, potential ooc.

𖦁 blueberry milk cookie was a heaven sent gift from the witches above, he was a celestial jewel, an angel's whisper brought down to earth, the very breath of seraphim—an impossible, transcendental blessing cradled in the tender arms of witches' own grace. he was a splendid confection, kneaded from divine essence, destined to scatter blessings upon the crumbed multitudes of earthbread—a being way out of your league, you, an ordinary cookie who could crumble and wither into a flour with not a single eye batting to your direction.

𖦁 ah, but how radiant he was, you couldn't help yourself from your love, your dear, your luminous, immortal darling. does he even know? does he grasp the way his mind glows, the way his thoughts spill like molten gold onto the parchment of your very soul? he was your everything, your love—your guiding star, your perfect darling, your sole, necessary breath. and yet, the world, the pitiful, ignorant world, could not comprehend his brilliance, like a mere toy, they had molded him, and cast him aside once their utilitarian need had been served; they did not deserve him. no, the world could not deserve him—those who fail to recognize the sacredness of his mind, who treat his wisdom as commonplace, who look upon him without the reverence of a disciple at the feet of a god—it sickens you, stirs a fury deep within your chest. in the hollowed, gleaming corridors of his towering spire, you would see them—fawning, indulging in their miserable, blind inanities, lost in the sick lies they prefer over the sublime truth he alone could offer. and mind you, it was he—he—who spent his invaluable time, his precious moments, entangled with these dull, odious fools, these imbecilic cookies just for them to throw it away! he should not have to share his divine self with such paltry, uninspired creatures. no, no, no. you could not abide it. you would sever every connection, carve away every distraction, erase every tether that pulled him from you. and if it were required to cloak him in the softest, most unrelenting shadow, to shield him from the world that could never grasp his greatness, to hide him where only your gaze could drink in the luminous glow of his mind—so be it. you would protect him, cherish him, and keep him safe from those who could never understand him as you do.

𖦁 yet, he couldn't seem to understand it all; with every embrace, a look of disdain was given to you, as if you were a taint smeared upon heavens, can't he understand? these cookies were the one that were evil! they will defile him, corrupt his very name with degeneracy! you were merely shielding him away from the evil, how could he not comprehend that? he must've been brainwashed. yes, surely, or so that was what you wanted to believe, however, all his actions proved otherwise: with every touch, he recoiled, like a skittish moth repelled by the flame it once sought. with every affectionate word, he replied in clipped, mechanical syllables, blunt and cold, each one landing with the weight of a slammed door. there was no love in them—no warmth, no hesitance, no trace of a feeling that might, by some miracle, have softened the harsh lines of his indifference. you learned quickly that tenderness was a language he neither spoke nor cared to decipher. a hand reaching for his own was met with a perfunctory pat, a touch devoid of meaning, as if acknowledging, rather than returning, the gesture. you could pour all your warmth into him, let it trickle down the cracks in his facade, but he would not absorb it. He remained, steadfast in his distance, near enough to torment, far enough to elude. you tried to believe in the silences, in the space between his words, in the possibility that somewhere beneath that marble exterior, there was something that resembled love. but hope, much like affection, was wasted on him. you tried, really! to continue loving him, you truly did, but, ah, your feelings leisurely diminished into grains of flour until your love turned into rust and dust.

𖦁 it wasn't long until then your unfortunate sweet dear darling, the celestial beacon in your life was sullied into taint when you vanished into thin air. from graces, he fell, and into the bottom of the endless pit of corruption.

𖦁 and oh, how much he changed: in the cold, lonely cell, he reminisced the past, thought of you, thought of your oh so tender gentle caresses! and to say that it made him deprived of warmth, made him ache—hunger not for food, but for yours was an understatement. he sought and yearned for it, hunger gnawed, a sensation with fangs, sharp and insistent, curling inside his ribs like a starved serpent. he gwaned for you—not sweetly, not poetically, but in the way of a body denied water, of lips cracked and trembling at the edge of a mirage. oh, to be held, to be devoured, to be anything but this wretched hunger pressing against the ribs, licking at the throat, whispering: more, more, more... ah! he couldn't stop it! he promises to himself that he'd apologize to you and pamper you with affection once he gets out of this petulant little silver tree!

𖦁 and he'd definitely stick to his word; the moment he flees from the withering tree binding him and his allies, he had his priorities straight: to find his dear darling! he was beyond ectastic, thoughts filled of embracing you once more and kissing you, but, ah, none could prepare him for the sight that would unfold infront of his very gaze—his sweet puppet was linking arms with /him/. at first, he laughed, he chuckled and brushed it off, no, no, surely he was just presuming things! there was no way his dear would betray him and replace him with such a... ungracious caricature of a cookie, right? right? if you were, he'd definitely need to give you a better eyes as a replacement which was a no worries for him! he has a nice stock of replacement! surely, you wouldn't stoop down to that level of degeneracy. yet, you didn't approach him like he thought and dreamed of within the silved tree, you only took a cautious step back, away from him, away from your perfect celestial darling and to the burlesque version of himself, realization dawned and it made him seeth with anger.

𖦁 blasphemous! how dare you! you superseded his spot with this thing?! to betray him was one thing, but to replace him with this cheap copy of himself whom hadn't grown ever slightly intelligent despite wielding his own power?! you little pest! he'll make you pay for this. oh, and, don't worry your pretty little brain! he promises to be much, much more tender than he will be to him, it will be grand, a show that will mark itself in earthbread's history. so won't you be a good little dear and wait till he finishes his one last marionette show before tending to you?

𖦁 and as for the destiny of the silly little thief... ah, he vows to make him taste his own medicine and he'll make certain it will be a fate worse than crumbling away! he wasn't gonna kill him, no, no, death was far too gentle, he was gonna corrupt him, brainwash his mind with sweet, insidious poison, and distort his reality into a glistening hall of mirrors where every reflection was a lie, every whisper a trick of the light. he would unravel, unravel most grotesquely, as his reason frayed like moth-eaten silk, his thoughts dissolving into the same exquisite delirium that had once seized his own skull in its venomous embrace! and most importantly, he was gonna make him feel like what it felt like to be in his place! he stole his soul jam and now you, surely he doesn't think he can get away with that, can't he? no, no, if he wants to take from him so badly, he was gonna make him /him/.

𖦁 but ah, don't be so upset, dear. shouldn't you be exhilarated? he's giving you the attention you craved for, the attention you digged the sand and soils for until your fingers scarred and numbed for, the attention you yearned and sought for like a madman. so, why won't you clap, give your sweet jester an applause for his spectacular show? don't tell him you were still concerned of pure vanilla cookie! he simply put him in the right path, the road down to the deepest depths of hell, of course, but it was still a befitting destination!

𖦁 yet, still, still, you prattled on, fretting that lovely little head of yours over pure vanilla cookie—his name tumbling from your lips like some sacred incantation, a hymn to a god too distant to listen. and oh, how it curdled something deep inside him, how it set his very marrow alight with a fury so exquisite it was almost pleasure. could you not see? he was here. here, before you, in all his resplendent, fevered devotion, and yet you—blind, foolish, maddening thing—spoke of another. oh! perhaps a lesson was in order. yes, yes, that's right, a lesson. a gentle one, at first—he was, after all, a man of remarkable patience. a game, then, a little amusement, something to turn those wandering thoughts back where they belonged. he would not interrupt, no, never that. he would only guide, nudge, mold. and in the end, oh, you would see. you would understand. you would learn.

𖦁 and to say the wait had been merely excellent would be a crime of understatement, a paltry insult to the fevered anticipation that had coiled and uncoiled within him for so long. no, the outcome was a marvel beyond the bounds of mere expectation. you were back, back as you had been, intact, whole—his darling, his own, still in possession of that precious, once-fractured self. giddy with triumph, he would fall against you, arms encircling the exquisite stillness of your form, his dear darling, still and unresponsive—your gaze, those glassy and depthless eyes, did not meet his but stretched past him, unfocused, fixed upon some distant and nameless horizon. there was no flicker of recognition, no gentle return of his embrace. and yet, he clung to you, triumphant, unbothered by your silence, unshaken by your vacancy. you were here. that was more than enough.

a/n: I've received like... so many requests featuring pure vanilla cookie with yandere shadow milk cookie after i made that one post... do you guys want him dead? anyways, i just lost my pity in the guaranteed banner to fucking sherbet cookie. i need frost queen to turn him into snow once again... can someone bless me their mystic flour luck, ill give you my burning spice who is currently 4 stars (f2p)

[irissfoot]

arthur morgan x fem reader

him drawing you nude… fluffy and smutty please

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Soft Lines

╰┈➤ After a few weeks away from each other, Arthur takes his beloved wife to the saloon for a night of drawing and soft love making. ♥

Word count: 890

Warnings: unprotected p in v, kissing, nudity (obvi lol), author has zero sexual experience, not proofread

A/N: This is my first ever fic ive written so please be kind lol, also sorry for the delay ive been rlly busy and everytime I sat down to write it i got scared lol.

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Soft giggles met the gentle crackle of the fire, the warm glow casting a soft shadow over her curves as she posed on the rich red chaise couch.

Dutch had sent him and Lenny on yet another wild goose chase, a habit growing annoyingly common. Because of these pointless missions, he hadn't had time to catch up with the love of his life. To correct this, Arthur took her out to dinner at the saloon in Saint Denis - promptly followed by booking a room for the night. 

And that's how you ended up laying on your side on the couch, as bare as the day you were born. You were reluctant at first, I mean, who wouldn't be? Laying naked as your husband who looks like he was sculpted by the gods, sitting there, drawing you. But with a few kisses and a promise that it wouldn't take too long, you obliged. 

“Are you almost done? I feel silly”

“Don’t worry sweetheart, you look gorgeous.” He mumbled as he continued scribbling away, a small smile crept its way onto your face.

“Do you really mean that?” you already knew what his answer would be, but you were growing tired and figured teasing him would help aid that.

He looked up, surprised almost. As if he didn’t say it enough. “Well ‘course I do!” Suddenly an idea popped into your head as he put his head back down.

“Well then show me.” You got up and started walking across the room towards him. Hips intentionally popping out, accentuating your curves.

A smirk made its way onto Arthur's face as he put his pencil and journal down, reaching out to grab onto your soft waist. Pulling you down to have your ass sit flush against his lap. Smiling at you gently as you play with the tuft of hair at his neck, looking lovely into his eyes.

“Don't know what I did to deserve you.” He continued staring into your eyes for a moment, muttering a faint beautiful before leaning in to kiss you. Soft and gentle, those are the words you’d use to describe how Arthur treats you. Holding you like you’re the most important thing in the world to him. 

The kiss became more passionate and deep, kissing down your neck before standing up with you in his arms. Walking back towards the couch, delicately laying you down. You wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him closer as you start to unbutton his black blouse - his favourite but only because you always tell him how handsome he looks in it. 

His hands start to move from your hips and up towards your soft breasts. Massaging them tenderly, making you let out a small sound of protest before breaking from the kiss.

“Arthur, take your clothes off.” Your tone was kind but he knew better than to test you. 

“Yes ma’am.” He sat back on his feet, pulling his arm out of his suspenders as you untuck his shirt pulling it down his shoulders. 

Caressing his shoulders and buff chest as he unbuckles his belt, “God I love you.” Just as he takes his pants off you pull him into a deep kiss. His hands find their way back to your breasts, teasing your nipples as you massage his growing erection.

Mumbles and groans grow louder and you just couldn't take it anymore, pulling away slightly whispering a soft, “Please Arthur.”

You don’t even need to ask a second time before Arthur takes his length in his hand, trailing the tip of his penis between your wet folds moaning at the sensation. 

“Good god women.” He rests his forehead on yours, staring oh so lovely into your eyes before entering you. You couldn't help but moan. It had been a long time since he stretched you out, his ridges rubbing perfectly against your warm velvety walls. Letting out a low groan as he bottomed out. He pulls his hands to your sides, caressing you with a desperation you absolutely adored. 

He started moving, slow, deliberate, and deep. Relishing the noises you were making, the desperate grabs at his back. You needed this just as much as he did. Speeding up a little, hitting your g-spot everytime. Reaching down to bring Arthur's hand into yours, placing a gentle kiss on the back of it. 

“Oh God Arthur.” You weren’t gonna last much longer, walls clenching around his  length. Heels digging into his back, pushing him deeper.

“I know sweetheart, I know.” His pace speeding up a little, he wasn’t gonna last much longer either. 

With a few more strokes and messy kisses, you came undone. Walls spasming on his cock with such a vigor he had never felt before. Moaning loudly, you pulled his sweaty forehead down to meet yours once again. He looked into your eyes as he came, watching the way your face contorted when you felt his warm cum filling you up. 

Panting heavily as his thrusts slowed, collapsing down onto you as you panted. Wrapping your arms around him, kissing his head tenderly. 

As you both layed there, the world around you seemed to dissipate. He looked up at you, the orange glow of the dying fire highlighting the sweat on your face and the frizziness of your tousled hair. And he swore, you never looked better.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆

[pomefioredove]

May I please have a sugar cookie, #7, with candy cane and sprinkles? 👉👈

certainly (* ^ ω ^)

order #7, sugar with sprinkles, candy cane

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ assertive

summary: after seeing you rebound, he realizes he's not quite over you tropes: exes to lovers, hurt/comfort characters: trey additional info: romantic, gender neutral reader, reader is yuu, short and sweet

"I just don't like the way he's looking at them,"

Cater looks up from his cup, and the foam heart he was trying to snap a pic of melts into his latte.

"You can barely see his face. And you've said that like, three times," the ginger says. "You've barely even touched your mug. It's basically iced coffee now."

Trey finally looks at Cater, his neck sore from craning over his shoulder.

His mug is cold to the touch.

"I'm starting to think you only invited me here 'cause you knew the Prefect was coming. Like, ouch," Cater smiles.

Trey's face flushes red. "What! No, I-I just thought the shop had a good deal today,"

Cater rolls his eyes.

"As much as I love drama, this is lowkey sad," he says. "You need to move on, Trey. It's been months."

Trey knows he's right, which makes his observation hurt even more. He mumbles some poor excuse into his cup of lukewarm coffee, but he can't keep his eyes to himself for long.

"He definitely goes to RSA. I don't trust him," he mutters, eyeing the boy you're with.

"Che'nya goes to RSA, doesn't he?"

"Would you trust Che'nya with your ex?"

"Yeowch. Point taken," Cater smiles, stirring his untouched latte with a dainty spoon. "So, what are you gonna do about it?"

Trey hesitates. He would have loved to just... march over there and steal you away from that pompous bastard...

But he won't.

"Nothing,"

"Pfft," Cater snorts. "You need to be more assertive, man. Otherwise we're just stalking the Prefect. Yeah, that'll impress them."

"It's not about that!! And it's not stalking!"

Cater rolls his eyes and returns to his phone, the uninvited third wheel of every outing with him.

Still, his words bother Trey. That was the problem, wasn't it? He just wasn't... assertive.

He didn't take your side, or stand up for you. He wasn't there when you needed him most, the fool. That's why you dumped him.

If assertive is what you want...

Trey stands, surprising Cater to the point of putting his phone away, and he marches across the coffee shop, brow furrowed, arms firmly at his side. The RSA boy you're with sees him first, and then you.

"Trey? What are you-"

"You," he says, pointing right at the white-uniform wearing, silver-spoon sucking little bastard.

Your jaw drops. The boys' eyes widen (does he look familiar or what?) Cater pushes his chair out, as if preparing to intervene.

Trey takes a deep breath.

"You... you treat them right, do you hear me? Prefect is the sweetest person I know, and they deserve someone just as perfect! Listen to them, okay? Be the person they can rely on, they can trust... the person I- that I wasn't. Just- you'd better be a good boyfriend, or I'll make you regret it, alright?!"

Cater sits back down. Both you and the boy you're with seem to soften, more confused than concerned now.

Trey turns and marches back to his seat. "Let's go,"

The ginger grins and looks behind him. Trey follows his gaze, and it's... you.

"Did you follow me?" you demand. His face goes bright red.

"Uh... um, I... yes. But I only wanted to make sure you were okay. That's... all I've ever wanted,"

Cater gives him a double thumbs-up. You frown, and he mutters a quick "I'll go wait outside" before darting out the door. Trey's blush darkens to crimson.

"Listen, I'm really sorry I interrupted your date. I just wanted to make sure you were being taken care of, and-"

"Trey," you stop him. "I'm not on a date. And that's not my boyfriend."

Huh.

...What?

"Oh?"

You sigh, gesturing between the two. "Trey, Neige. Neige, Trey," and you lower your voice. "I'm here on Vil's behalf. Some movie thing."

Ohh. That makes sense. Trey's face only gets redder, if possible, and he clears his throat. "...My mistake,"

Your frown softens, and you sigh.

"You couldn't have known... and... thanks for worrying about me, I guess. Maybe next time we can talk in private?"

Next time. Trey's heart flutters at the promise, if he dare call it that, and he nods.

"A-ah, of course. Next time,"

[luvfae]

CLEAN, PT 2

summary: after rehab, you reunite with thanos, sharing love, passion, and a fresh start together.

parings: thanos/choi su-bong x f!reader

warnings: mention of addiction, swearing, smut, oral (both receiving), fingering, handjob, unprotected sex (don’t be an idiot), p in v.

part 1

Three months ago, Thanos had dragged you—kicking, screaming, and cursing his name—into the same rehab facility where he had gotten clean.

Today, you were walking out.

With no family to pick you up (Thanos didn’t even know if you had any who cared), he was the one waiting.

Three excruciating months apart. He spent every day wondering if you hated him, if you were okay. But no calls from the facility meant you weren’t doing too bad. Meanwhile, you had spent those months drowning in withdrawal, fighting everyone who tried to help, refusing therapy—until eventually, you gave in. And for the first time in years, you felt normal. You started to remember the girl you used to be before the drugs took her away.

Then came the shame. The time lost. You should’ve graduated from art school by now, but instead, addiction had dictated your life. You regretted cutting off your family, pushing away friends until you had none left. You regretted how you had treated Thanos when all he ever did was try to save you.

And now, standing at the door, your hands trembled. Would anyone even be waiting for you?

Then—

“Y/N.”

You blinked.

Thanos.

You didn’t think. You just ran.

Throwing yourself at him, you hugged him so tightly it knocked the wind out of him. He didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you.

“Thank you,” you whispered, voice shaking. You pulled back slightly to look at him. “Thank you so much.”

“Don’t thank me,” he murmured, brushing away your tears.

“I didn’t deserve your help,” you admitted, pulling away completely. He caught your hands, grounding you. “I was so awful to you. I’m so, so sorry.”

“I know what it’s like to be an addict,” he replied. “Everyone deserves help.”

Sniffing, you wiped your eyes as he led you to his car.

It was strange. You had known Thanos for nine months, lived with him, had sex with him, and yet… you didn’t really know him. Your brain had been so fried on drugs you barely retained any information.

And Thanos was the same. He had taken care of you, paid for your rehab, seen you at your lowest, and yet he didn’t know who you were.

Maybe it was time to change that.

The car ride was quiet at first. You were still getting used to the feeling of sobriety, of being aware. But as the city passed by through the windows, you glanced at Thanos.

“I used to paint,” you blurted out.

He looked at you. “Yeah?”

You nodded. “Before everything… I loved painting. I was good at it, too. I was supposed to graduate art school a few years ago. Art was my dream.”

Silence settled for a moment before you continued. “I had a good life. A good family. My parents weren’t perfect, but they cared. I had a future. And then I got caught up with the wrong people.” You swallowed. “I let it ruin me.”

Thanos tightened his grip on the wheel. “It’s not too late.”

You let out a small, breathy laugh. “You sound like my therapist.”

“Well, your therapist is right,” he said, glancing at you. “You’re clean now. You can start again.”

You didn’t reply, just watched the city blur past.

“What about you?” you asked. “How did you get into rapping?”

Thanos smirked slightly. “It was either rap or go to jail.”

Your brows furrowed, but you stayed quiet, waiting for him to explain.

“I was a street kid,” he said. “Grew up bouncing between different family members. No real home. I got into some bad shit—gangs, drugs, fights. Ended up locked up a few times as a teenager. But music…” He sighed, tapping his fingers against the wheel. “Music was my way out. I started writing lyrics in juvie. Got out, kept at it, got lucky. Somehow, I made it big.”

You stared at him, realizing this was the first real conversation you’d ever had. “Do you love it?”

Thanos was quiet for a beat. “Yeah. I do.”

You smiled softly. “I’d like to hear your songs sometime. Really hear them. Not just in the background while I’m high out of my mind.”

His lips quirked up. “I’d like that too.”

And for the first time in a long time, you both felt like you were finally getting to know each other.

Thanos had loved you before—loved you in your worst moments, through the chaos, the anger, the addiction. But this version of you? The version that was bright-eyed, passionate, full of life again? He loved this version even more.

As he stole glances at you in the passenger seat, he really saw you for the first time. Your cheeks had filled out, your skin looked healthier, your eyes were wide and alert instead of hazy and half-lidded. And that smile—soft, genuine, real.

You were beautiful.

He pulled into the driveway, and you blinked, tilting your head.

“This isn’t the place I remember,” you said, glancing up at the massive mansion in front of you.

Thanos shrugged. “Bought a new house while you were gone.” He put the car in park and looked over at you. “Wanted to leave the bad memories behind and make good ones here instead.”

You let out a small laugh. “House? More like a mansion.”

Thanos smirked, pushing open his door. “Being rich and famous has its perks.”

You stepped out after him, following him inside. The space was opulent—high ceilings, sleek furniture, stunning artwork lining the walls. You turned in slow circles, taking it all in.

“I’ll donate them to charity,” Thanos said.

You glanced at him, confused. “What?”

“The paintings,” he clarified. “I’d rather have your art on my walls.”

Your cheeks burned, and you ducked your head, kicking at the floor. “I haven’t picked up a paintbrush in years,” you admitted. “Not sure I even can anymore.”

Thanos smiled. “I bet you can.”

Before you could argue, he took your hand and led you up the grand staircase, past a few closed doors, before stopping in front of one. He pushed it open, revealing a bedroom with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the entire city.

“This is your room,” he said simply.

You stepped inside, breath catching. It was beautiful. Warm-toned, cozy, welcoming. He walked over to the closet and pulled open the doors, revealing racks of neatly hung designer clothes, tags still on them.

“I even got you a new wardrobe,” he added.

You stared at the clothes, shaking your head. “Thanos, this is too much,” you whispered. “After everything I put you through… You shouldn’t have to take care of me anymore.”

He turned to you, gaze steady. “I want to.”

His words sat heavy between you. No hesitation, no doubt.

For the first time in a long time, you felt happy.

Real, genuine happiness. The kind that made your stomach flip and your heart race.

Or maybe it wasn’t just happiness. Maybe it was something deeper, something terrifying in its intensity.

You stared at him, eyes brimming with tears. “Thank you.” Your voice was barely a whisper, afraid that if you spoke any louder, the moment would shatter.

Thanos met your gaze, unwavering. “You’re welcome.”

You stepped forward hesitantly. “I don’t remember a lot from when I was using,” you admitted. “But I remember you.”

His brows lifted slightly. “What do you remember?”

You swallowed hard. “I remember you force-feeding me when I refused to eat. Flushing my stash down the toilet. I remember screaming in your face, kicking holes in your walls.” A tear slipped down your cheek, but you kept going. “I remember sleeping with strangers, with your friends—right after you told me you loved me.” Your voice cracked. “I was horrible to you. But that wasn’t the real me. I swear.”

Thanos nodded, watching you carefully. “I know,” he said simply. “But there were good times too, right? You remember those?”

You did.

You remembered the way he’d tuck you in at night, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. The way he’d run a bath for you after you got sick all over yourself, holding you steady as he cleaned you up. The way he kissed you like he was willing to set the world on fire for you. The way he touched you, loved you, even when you were too far gone to truly feel it.

“I remember how you made me feel,” you whispered, stepping closer.

His lips parted, his breath hitching as your fingers traced up his chest.

“I remember your hands,” you murmured, voice turning sultry. “Your mouth. Your tongue. Your fingers.” Your hand slid lower, brushing over the hardening bulge in his jeans. “Your cock inside me.”

Thanos inhaled sharply as you pushed your palms against his chest.

You had spent weeks thinking about this—about fucking him sober. About feeling everything for the first time.

“You made me feel so good,” you purred. “So fucking good, Thanos.”

A muscle in his jaw twitched. “My real name is Su-bong,” he muttered, his voice hoarse.

You smirked. “Well—Su-bong…” Your eyes darkened with intent. “Let me make it up to you. Let me show you how good I can be.”

That was all it took.

His lips crashed against yours, hungry and demanding, his hands gripping your waist as he backed you toward the bed. You gasped as the backs of your knees hit the mattress, and he wasted no time pushing you onto your back, peeling his shirt off in one swift motion and tossing it to the floor.

You sat up slightly, dragging your fingertips down his toned abdomen, your mouth practically watering at the sight of him.

He was already hard for you.

And this time, you were completely, devastatingly sober.

You dragged your nails down his chest, feeling the way his muscles tensed beneath your touch. His skin was warm, firm—real. For the first time, you were feeling him, not just through a hazy drug-fueled blur, but with a clarity that sent a shiver down your spine.

Thanos—Su-bong—looked down at you with dark, hooded eyes, his lips parted slightly as he took you in. “You’re teasing me,” he murmured, voice thick with desire.

You smirked, trailing your fingers lower, letting them ghost over the waistband of his jeans. “Maybe,” you mused. “I owe you, don’t I?”

His hands slid up your sides, rough palms skimming the soft fabric of the shirt he had given you months ago—the same one you had walked out of rehab in. Slowly, he peeled it up and over your head, letting it drop to the floor.

His gaze roamed over you, drinking in every inch of exposed skin, every little mark and scar. You weren’t the frail, hollow version of yourself anymore. You were whole.

“You’re beautiful,” he muttered, his fingers trailing over your ribs, then up to cup your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples. You let out a soft gasp, arching into his touch.

His mouth found your throat, lips pressing firm, open-mouthed kisses along the column of your neck. He sucked lightly at your pulse, dragging his teeth over the sensitive skin, making you shudder.

“Su-bong,” you breathed, threading your fingers through his hair.

He groaned at the way you said his name, his hands sliding down your body, squeezing at your waist, your hips, like he was memorizing the shape of you.

You tugged at the waistband of his jeans, undoing the button and pulling the zipper down, your fingers slipping inside to brush against the hard length beneath his boxers. He let out a sharp exhale, hips jerking forward slightly at your touch.

“Fuck,” he hissed, his forehead dropping against yours. “You really want this?”

You wrapped your fingers around him, squeezing just enough to make him curse under his breath. “More than anything,” you whispered.

His lips crashed against yours again, hungrier this time, his hands gripping your thighs as he pushed you back onto the bed, positioning himself between your legs. You gasped as he kissed his way down your body, his mouth hot and insistent against your skin.

When he reached the waistband of your jeans, he hooked his fingers into them, glancing up at you for permission.

You lifted your hips in response, breath hitching as he dragged them down, taking your panties with them, exposing you completely to him.

His eyes darkened, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip. “Fuck, baby,” he muttered, his voice thick with lust.

Then, without hesitation, he leaned down and devoured you.

His tongue flicked against your clit, slow and teasing, sending a jolt of pleasure through your core. Your fingers twisted into his hair, hips jerking instinctively, but he pinned you down with a firm grip on your thighs.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he groaned against you, his breath hot, his voice thick with hunger. “Missed this pussy so much.”

A whimper slipped from your lips as he flattened his tongue and licked a long, slow stripe up your slit before sucking your clit into his mouth. Your back arched, thighs trembling, but just as the pleasure built, just as you felt yourself spiraling, you pushed at his shoulders.

Thanos pulled back, his mouth glistening, brows furrowing in confusion. “What?”

You took a shaky breath, trying to clear the haze of pleasure from your mind. “This is about you, not me,” you murmured, pushing yourself up on your elbows. “I’m paying you back.”

A slow, wicked grin spread across his face. “If it’s about me, then I should get to do what I want,” he countered, voice low, dangerous. “And what I want to do is fucking taste you.”

“Jesus Christ,” you breathed, heat surging through your body.

Before you could protest further, he dove back in, his tongue circling your clit while two fingers slid inside you, curling just right. A strangled moan tore from your throat, your hips bucking as he worked you open, relentless and precise.

It didn’t take long—he knew exactly how to unravel you, exactly how to have you gripping his hair and gasping his name. Your orgasm hit fast and hard, your body shaking as he held you down, licking you through every wave until you were panting, overstimulated.

Only then did he pull away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, looking so fucking smug.

“Fuck,” you muttered, still catching your breath. “I forgot how good you were at that. Feels even better sober.”

His smirk widened. “Unforgettable, baby.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the smile tugging at your lips. Pushing him onto his back, you straddled his hips, hands sliding up his chest, fingers teasing over his nipples before raking down his abs.

“My turn,” you whispered.

You kissed down his body, taking your time, nipping at his collarbones, sucking marks into his skin just to watch him tense beneath you. When you reached the waistband of his jeans, you tugged them down, freeing his cock, your mouth practically watering at the sight of him—thick, hard, already leaking.

You wrapped your fingers around him, stroking slow, teasing. His breath hitched, his head tipping back against the pillows.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his fingers curling into the sheets. “You gonna take care of me, baby?”

You leaned down, pressing a kiss to his tip, then dragged your tongue along his length, watching the way his stomach tensed beneath you.

“Of course,” you murmured, voice dripping with promise.

And then you took him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as he let out a deep, guttural moan, his hands flying to your hair.

Your tongue worked him slowly, dragging along every inch of his length, teasing just to hear him groan. You hollowed your cheeks, taking him deeper, letting him hit the back of your throat, moaning around him just to feel the way he twitched in your mouth.

“Shit, baby,” Thanos growled, his fingers tightening in your hair. “Missed your mouth—so perfect, so fucking good for me.”

The praise only made you more eager. You bobbed your head, stroking the rest of him with your hand, slick and messy, making sure to keep your eyes on him. His chest rose and fell rapidly, his jaw clenched, his muscles tense as he fought to keep control.

But you didn’t want him to be in control.

You pulled off him with a lewd pop, kissing up his abs as you moved to straddle his waist. His cock was hard, flushed, throbbing against your soaked folds as you rubbed against him, teasing both of you.

“Hey,” he hissed, gripping your hips. “Quit teasing.”

You smirked, leaning down to kiss him, slow and deep, your fingers threading into his hair. “You always take care of me,” you whispered against his lips. “Let me take care of you now.”

Without breaking eye contact, you reached down, guiding him to your entrance before sinking down onto him in one slow, delicious slide. Both of you gasped at the sensation, your walls stretching around him, molding to him perfectly like you were made for this.

“Jesus,” Thanos groaned, his head tipping back, fingers digging into your hips as he tried not to lose himself completely.

“You feel so good,” you breathed, placing your hands on his chest, rolling your hips slowly, savoring the way he filled you so perfectly. “So fucking good, Su-bong.”

His eyes snapped open at the sound of his real name on your lips, dark and wild with lust. He sat up suddenly, wrapping an arm around your waist, his mouth latching onto your neck, sucking bruises into your skin as you continued moving, grinding against him, taking him deeper.

You moaned, clinging to his shoulders, kissing him desperately, your tongues tangling, the pleasure building between you like a fire. “Thank you,” you whispered against his lips, rocking faster, harder. “Thank you for saving me. For never giving up on me.”

A low growl rumbled in his chest as he flipped you onto your back, keeping you pinned beneath him, his hips snapping against yours, hitting deeper, harder.

“You’re mine,” he muttered between kisses, his voice rough, possessive. “Always fucking mine.”

“Yours,” you gasped, nails raking down his back, legs wrapping around him to pull him even closer. “Only yours.”

His pace turned desperate, his thrusts brutal yet somehow still so full of love, his forehead pressing against yours, his hand slipping between you to rub your clit, determined to drag you over the edge with him.

And when you came—hard, clenching around him, gasping his name like a prayer—he followed right after, burying himself deep, groaning into your mouth as he filled you, his entire body shuddering against yours.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, tangled together in the aftermath, your breathing heavy, your hearts racing in sync.

Then Thanos kissed you again, softer this time, lingering. “I still love you,” he murmured against your lips. “I always have.”

You smiled, brushing your fingers through his damp hair. “I think I love you too.”

And when he pulled you into his arms, holding you close like he never wanted to let go, you knew—you meant it.

You lay there for a while, tangled up in each other, your skin slick with sweat, his breath warm against your neck. The weight of him felt comforting, grounding, like you never wanted him to move.

But eventually, you stirred, pressing a soft kiss to his temple before slipping out of his arms.

“Where are you going?” Thanos mumbled, his voice thick with exhaustion.

You giggled, running a hand through his messy hair. “Relax, I’m just grabbing a towel.”

You padded to the bathroom, your legs still wobbly, but you didn’t care. You cleaned yourself up before wetting a towel, you returned to the bed, settling beside him as you began to clean him up, running the cloth over his stomach, down between his legs, gentle and careful.

Thanos watched you, his expression soft, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your thigh. “You don’t have to do that,” he murmured.

“I want to,” you replied, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “Let me take care of you for once.”

He huffed out a small laugh, letting you do as you pleased, though his hands never stopped touching you—gliding over your arm, your waist, like he needed the reassurance that you were still here.

When you were done, you tossed the towel aside, crawling back into his embrace, peppering kisses along his jaw, his cheek, the corner of his mouth.

Thanos smirked. “You’re in a good mood.”

“I think you fucked the happiness into me,” you teased, making him chuckle before he suddenly rolled you onto your back, hovering over you, nuzzling into your neck.

You giggled, your hands slipping into his hair, tugging him up so you could kiss him properly. Slow, lazy, sweet.

After a while, you pulled back just enough to look at him, brushing his damp hair from his face. “Thank you for the room,” you said softly. “But… I think I’d rather share a bed with you, if that’s okay?”

He pressed a lingering kiss to your lips, his thumb stroking your cheek. “That’s more than okay,” he murmured. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You smiled, burying your face in his chest, and for the first time in years, you felt home.

You still had a long road ahead—staying clean, rebuilding bridges with your family, reenrolling in art school. But those were worries for another day.

For now, you stayed wrapped in Thanos’ arms, making up for lost time, showering him with the love you should have given him all along.

[moodymisty]

MORTARION X READER HURT/COMFORT!!! MORTARION NOT FEELING GOOD ENOUGH AND HIS PARTNER COMFORTING HIM!!! NOT NECESSARILY SEXUAL; YOUR CHOICE!!!! I AM VERY EXCITED FOR OPEN REQUESTS!!!

Author's note: I love treating Mortarion with the love he never got <3 This is a bit short but I wanted to do just some tender cuddles that he's confused by Relationships: Mortarion/Gn!Reader Warnings: None, other than brief hints to Necare's abuse to Mortarion

This is the first time Mortarion has ever been fully unclothed around you, and the feeling he has is...

Unsure.

The scars that litter his body are not subtle, they aren't attractive. He doesn't like you seeing them. He doesn't like you seeing his bare skin at all, it feels unnatural to him, but the scars are what aggravate him the most. They don't have stories of hard won battles and brawls for honor.

They're scars from Necare; Exploration. Long straight incisions along his sides, his stomach, his throat, his back. They don't have a story of courage and standing stalwart- it's of being chained down, cut open as someone dug and took to see inside; How much he could heal back from.

The one your fingers are brushing against he remembers vividly. The coldness against his back, the way he dug into the skin of his chest. You caress it like it's just something curious, laying against his side with his arm pressed against your back.

You'd manipulated his body into this pose; Mortarion doesn't... He doesn't know how any of this works.

How to be intimate how to be romantic, he researched books on anatomy, not how to care for another. He felt angrily stupid when you pushed his arm around to lay in the nook you'd made, but the other options were either yelling at you and pushing you away, or admitting he didn't know.

So he sat in moronic silence and let you manipulate him to your liking, until you found a reasonable spot.

You continue to fiddle with the smaller of his scars, cheek pressed against his bare skin. It's so dark in the room that he can barely see that your clothes are all gone, but he can feel enough of your bare skin against his that it still triggers that feeling of shock in him.

It's such a foreign feeling to him, but he allows it. If only because he never thought that such a luxury was even possible. On Barbarus to see skin was so rare, to touch skin even more so.

He didn't think the broken remains of his body were worth touching, either; Underneath the protective thoughts of not needing such things.

It was far easier for him to deny himself than it was to feel it and thus the loss; Though now that he has your affection, there wasn't much that could tear it away. Other than himself.

He feels you push against him harder, gathering what little warmth he produces. He feels the gentle brush of your hair against his skin when you lay your head against him.

He can hear your heartbeat- you aren't asleep yet. But it's slowing, you're drifting off. He's glad for it, he doesn't know how much more of your affection he could take tonight.

He doesn't deserve it, but at least for a moment he could pretend he did.

[neodiekido]

danganronpa fans when an abused teenager doesn't get brutally murdered as "punishment" for "being a bitch"

[currentfandomkick]

Anyone care if i…

Tim tightened his mouth and took the kid immediately to his office.

Tam ordered someone to drive while he did a basic health check. The kid’s pulse was near non-existent and he was barely breathing.

He already had planned to destroy that branch of government within the year. He knew something was off when the basics of the schematics didnt match any of what he’d learned from engineering over the years.

He told Bruce a suspicion and let him take the reigns for a bit.

The government can go against an enraged Brucie Wayne, known adoptive father to a flock of kids, in his PTA Dad mode.

Tim will ensure everyone involved is ruined beyond repair. But first? First he takes care of the little survivor.

The kid was unconscious and his eyes weren’t focusing.

He grit his teeth as the paramedics came in, quick to tell them what he knew and staying with the kid the entire time.

The fact his internal temperature was in the 80s while his skin was radiating heat meant a meta-specialist hospital.

Tim Drake, teen CEO stuck with him the entire time.

If he sent the Outlaws the info on which government did this. Well. Starfire deserves to do a lot of damage, as a treat. And he could ask Roy parenting tips as Bruce? Is not getting this one.

Tim stayed with Danny and handled WE emails while keeping a hand in the kid’s.

When a nurse asked if John Doe would suffice, he could feel the faint brush of a mind against his.

“Danny, he, he went by Danny before.”

The nurse didn’t question that, updating the charts.

No one questioned the frost spilling over the boy’s skin. Tim was given hand warmers.

Danny kept a grip on his hand, while he traced circles on the back of Danny’s palms.

“Hey, I got you, okay little nebula?”

The kids mind pressed against his the way untrained empaths’ do in a crisis. Looking for a safe person.

“Got you little Nebs, if you want I’ll be Polaris and we’ll get you safe and sound. You can wake up when you’re ready—I dont plan on going far.”

Tim moved to his personal phone, updating YJ that he’s now joining the Teen Parent Scene with Anita for real.

Kon responded first. “Please tell me you did not make me a clone sib.”

Bart echoed the sentiments with “or me! I have a lot already, and managing our sibling bonding time is hard :(“

He sent a picture of the headline on the news channel of a child found in a generator sold to WE by the government and Bruce’s outrage.

Cassie congratulated him on his lifelong dream of becoming a teen dad.

Anita welcomed him to club and demanded playdate time once Danny settled in.

Greta just asked when they raided the group or if it was a Gotham Assault Only while they worked to help the kid integrate into society instead.

Given Danny’s mind perked up as he let the child see snatches of Greta in his memories as Secret, he’d ask Greta for help and let her know she won favorite aunt already.

He sent one message to the Family Group Chat: YJ reunion upcoming. Bringing my kid.

He muted that chat before any responses came through.

The Power Core

DP x DC Prompt

Danny doesn't know how long he's been trapped in this coffin the GIW put him in. His parents gave him to the GIW when they couldn't accept him being a Halfa.

He endured so many painful experiments by the hands of the GIW. He was then put into a cylindrical coffin that drains him of his powers. He can't see what's going on outside because the GIW put a casing over the glass in his coffin. He can't move either. Many things are keeping his limbs and mouth from moving. He can even feel them digging into his body and can feel them drain his ectoplasm for who know what. He probably wouldn't survive this long if he hadn't ascended to the throne for the Infinite Realms.

He can tell he's somewhere new, as he's begun to hear the voice of a woman trying to talk to him, he can't respond to the woman because of the muzzle on his mouth. And then his body couldn't handle anymore torture. His body morphed into the age his Ghostly half is, the age of a 6 year old boy, which causes his limbs and mouth to be freed, but it also causes him to collapse from where he was being held in the air by the things restricting his limbs(he didn't know that he was right-side up and was mostly out of it because of the low levels of ectoplasm he has).

Meanwhile, either Bruce, Tim, or both are wondering why the power core they bought from a government agency is malfunctioning. It was bought for Wayne Enterprises. It was said to be the only power core capable of lasting years. And when it was opened up to see what's wrong, a young boy around the age of 5 wasn't what anyone expected to see inside the power core, with wounds on his limbs and mouth from the restraints and the muzzle inside the power core that could be seen.

[midnight-mourning]

Jelly Hearts

💘💘Midnight's DCA Valentine's Day 7💘💘

I FORGOT TO POST THIS AHHHHHHH, my bad all, please enjoy some self-indulgent jealousy hehe

Prompt: also I think that I'd put in a request for some really jealous dca time. maybe they see reader getting some other valentines or hears that they have plans the day of after they're off work and assume that they've got a date (rightfully or incorrectly idk) and they just can't let this happen. y/n is Theirs™️

Word Count: 1750

Read here if you prefer ao3!

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The flowers on the desk were a surprise, about a week before the middle of February, roughly. You weren't sure where they'd come from or what they were doing there, and found yourself very surprised to find it was in fact, a gift for you. The card stuck inside the bouquet had neat script, and was to the point. 

'Happy Valentine's day! From, Your Secret Admirer'

You'd asked the security guard if they knew anything about who had gifted it, but they had no clue either. It had been a common theme over the past few days, the kids had been gifting you early cards and treats, but this seemed to be a bit more than that. 

"What've you got there, Sunshine?"

You turn, confused smile on your face. "Looks like a gift! From a uh, secret admirer? You know anything about that?" You tease. 

Sun tilts his head sharply, rays and faceplate spinning from the force. 

"Hm, no. Don't think so!"

Your smile falls a bit, mainly because you'd been hoping it was him, and based on his tone he wasn't lying about it to mess with you either. "Oh, gotcha."

"But! I'll keep my eyes and ears peeled just for you, Starlight." He bends down quickly, coming eye to eye with you and booping your nose. "And if I do find out, I'll be sure to let you know."

He stands straight and walks off then, and it takes you a moment to process what just happened. You probably just imagined the edge to his tone. You shake your head, and glance back down to the vase. 

Huh. The card's missing. It must have dropped somewhere. 

But after a quick search you never did end up finding it. 

Not that it mattered much, as a day or so later you were sent another gift, this time jelly candy hearts and heart-shaped chocolates. Same message as last time, 'Happy Valentine's! Love, Your Secret Admirer'. You sat and enjoyed the sweets during nap time, just to keep from any little hands or pleading eyes from trying to snatch one for themselves. 

As you were snacking, Moon suddenly sat down beside you, hands folding into his lap and head almost snapping to look at you. 

You raise a hand to greet him. "Hey, Moon-man."

"Star."

You cock your head to the side, popping another candy in your mouth. "Need something? Or just come over to hang out?"

"Where did you get that?" He points to the half-opened box in your lap. 

You shrug, lifting the little slip of paper for him to read. "Secret admirer strikes again I guess."

"Seems so." He snarls out.

It surprises you, brows raised as you look at him again. "You alright?"

"Fine." He turns away from you and the card, facing forward to observe the Daycare. 

You don't speak again for the rest of the time. 

Similarly 'issues' arise throughout the rest of the week. Little gifts from that same person being sent your way, not to mention the growing number of cards and the likes from the Daycare kids. 

During all of this, the attendant pulled back from you, you weren't entirely sure why. They were shorter, blunter, not nearly as talkative or teasing with you. You wonder if it was because of all the attention you were getting compared to them, which made you feel awful. They deserved some appreciation too. 

It's not until the day of Valentine's that you realize who your 'Secret Admirer' is after all. Specifically, it was your best friend, who you'd been helping out with getting set up on a date the past couple of weeks. You'd laughed about it once you'd found out, getting on to them for 'leading you on' even though regardless of who your admirer was, your heart belonged to someone else. 

Specifically the two someone's who'd been avoiding you all week long. 

You planned to talk to them about it tomorrow, tonight you had to focus on holding to your promises and make sure your friend's date actually went well. You were going to shadow with another friend of yours to see to it the date proceeded smoothly. 

You sling your jacket over your shoulders, taking one last glance around the Daycare before you head to leave. Just as you turn to head to the door, your face knocks gently against something metal. You jump, stepping back to find that Sun is standing before you. 

"Going so soon, Sunshine?" He tilts his head, eyes uplifted crescents. 

You nod, smiling. "Yup! I have a date tonight—"

"A. Date?" 

You bite your tongue. You hadn't meant to say that at all. "Oh no, I just meant that—"

"You know, I think there's some cleaning up still left to do, friend." Sun takes you by the shoulders, and leads you back into the Daycare, you lose your jacket at some point in the process. 

You try to protest. "I, Sun I really should go—"

"Stay." He states, speech a bit garbled for a moment before uplifting into his usual cheer. "I really must insist! We can't have this place looking less than perfect when the kiddos come in tomorrow now, can we?"

You scan the play area, nothing seems out of place to you, so you say as much. "No offense, Sunny, but everything seems just fine—"

There's a crash to your left, over by the arts and crafts tables. Turning you're bewildered to see Sun lying amongst a disaster of spilled craft supplies, some of which leaks quickly onto the padded floor. You don't even know how he got over there, he was just right next to you moment's before.

You're not able to question it much before Sun's speaking up. "Whoops! I don't know what got into me! Could you lend me a hand with this, pretty please, Sunshine?"

"Of course but are you okay?" You ask, slightly hurrying as you walk over to him. "Don't need to go to Parts and Services or anything?"

Sun makes a noise similar to grinding gears, next words blunt. "No. It was just a simple mistake."

"I, right, right." You offer him your hand, which he takes and uses to help get to his feet. He doesn't let go once he is standing, however. Leaving you no choice but to hold his hand, lest you make this awkward. 

You think for a moment. You should stay and help clean this up, you know how neurotic he—and moon—can be when it came to messes. You did feel bad about not being able to make it up to them regarding their lack of gifts, this could be a good chance. Especially when the opportunity presents itself to you.

"And I'll tell you what, Starshine. If we clean up quick I'll make sure to it'll be worth your while. How's that?" His hand squeezes yours just a little tighter. 

Something about the way he phrases it makes your cheeks heat up. You cough into your hand with a nod. "Yeah, that um, sounds good."

"Perfect."

The next hour or two is a blur. After you cleaned up, the attendant had one activity then the next for you to do together.

Making a last couple of Valentine's crafts before putting the supplies away for the year, making puzzles, reading stories, acting out scenes, dancing to music. From one moment to the next it was something, something, something. You would have expected this out of Sun for sure, but the fact that Moon was just as active a participant was more than surprising. 

In a brief moment of a break, while sitting down to watch a movie, do you think to check the time. 

Twenty minutes before your friend's date. Shoot, you'd lost a lot more time than you'd thought. You peek up to Moon, who's focused on the screen in front of you both. He's got his arms wrapped around you as you sit—practically—in his lap. You think if you try to move you'll get trapped further, so you attempt with words first. 

"Hey, this has been, a lot of fun, but I really need to get going now, alright?" You put your hand on his. 

Moon's faceplate snaps down, hold on you instantly tightening. Not what you wanted in the slightest. "Why? Are they that much more important?"

"I, wait. Moon-man, are you jealous?"

He freezes, then looks away, hold on you slipping as he starts to shrink in on himself. "Yes. No. We both are." His next words are muttered, a mixture of static and, maybe another voice? "It's not fair. We've loved you for so long, but someone else gets to have you instead."

"You, you guys, like me?" You ask in the quiet.

Moon grips the edge of his hat, pulling it down over his eyes. You swear you almost see some of Sun's rays poking out behind his faceplate in the low light. "Not like, love. Too scared to say it until now."

"Even if I told you I cared about you both too?" You twist to face him fully, hands cupping his cheeks. 

He melts into your touch. "Even what?"

You giggle. "Would you still be scared to say it? If I said I loved you too?"

"Maybe, maybe not..." One eye peeks out from the hat. "But, you're taken." And again, that harsh tone comes back, resentment, you realize.

At this you can't take anymore and start to laugh. "No, I'm not. I've been, well not trying super hard, but I've been trying to tell you that since early."

You finally are given the chance to fully explain the situation, including the 'Secret Admirer' part of the whole deal. You watch the tension melt in the bot in front of you, quickly becoming embarrassed and flustered that they'd been jealous over nothing at all. 

Despite that, however, you end up having to text your friends that you can't help out tonight. As you've been told you have a lot of 'making up' to do for your 'awful' behavior. By both attendants, for that matter. 

You're still sitting in their lap, movie long forgotten and lights now raised just slightly. Yellow and blue hands trace patterns into your waist as they hold you tight, seeming afraid to let go despite your whispered assurances. Their rays flutter and faceplate clicks at every sound you make, intentional or not.

As you kiss and are kissed—over and over and over again—there's only one word they murmur back, consistently, without fail. 

"Ours."

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Thank you @juukai for the request! I enjoy making jealous dca a lot hehe, just feels very fitting to me >:)c

My writing Masterpost

DCA Valentine's Masterpost

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[t4tlottie]

hey so idk if you reached this in the film yet, so veryyy minor spoilers for companion BUT

that sex scene between josh and iris that lasted like one second and he busted his nut but she looked SO BORED

i have a thought about reader overhearing it, and then when iris goes to shower or whatever r waits for her and somehow seduces her or wtv and straps her THE FUCK down…poor girl cums for the first time in her botlife

You feel like throwing up all the wine you had as you watch Iris pull Josh into her arms to dance with her. That fucker doesn't deserve her. You don't think you deserve her either, but you'd sure as hell treat her better than he does. I mean, calling your robot girlfriend, who doesn't even know it, by the way, beep-boop? As a nickname? You just wanna go over there and punch him.

But you don't.

You quietly slip away and head to your room which takes you about 5 minutes to find because of how stupidly big this house is. By the time you pluck off your socks and faceplant on your bed, you hear two people rush by your door while giggling. The door a few doors down from you slams and you feel your stomach sink. Josh and Iris. They're in the room closest to you. You shut your eyes and try to think of something to distract you from the disgusting noises you're about to hear. A minute goes by and you hear Josh groan loudly, and you genuinely let out a snort. Motherfucker couldn't even last two minutes with her? Then you get irritated. Does he ever please her? Sure, she is technically a sexbot, but imagine how fun would it be to go down on a robot! Has she ever cum from him? Does she even know what it feels like to cum?

You have to know.

Your feet lead you to their door before you can even properly think about what you're doing. Of course it's unlocked, and you silently pump your fist in the air when you spot Josh passed out on the bed. The bathroom door is ajar, and the sound of running water fills your ears. You slowly sneak forward, glancing in between the gap to see Iris in her bra and panties, placing her clean clothes on the counter. Glancing once more at Josh, you shuffle toward the door and slip in while Iris' back is to you and then close it.

"Josh?" she says, voice sounding too chipper for your liking. She turns around with a smile but gasps when she sees you. Her eyes go wide, and she tries to cover herself up. "What are you doing here?"

"The door was unlocked," you respond like you're stating the obvious. "I heard you guys fucking. Not for long, though. I wanted to see if you were alright."

"If I'm...alright?" Her arms loosen around her body, figuring you're not a threat anymore. She thinks you're here to check up on her because of the noises. You must've been worried. "I'm okay."

"You sure?" You step closer, glancing down at her cleavage. Iris backs up against the cold sink, her arms slowly dropping to her sides. "Sounds like you didn't have fun. I only heard him. Are you sure you're alright? You don't need any help?"

"Help?"

You nod and give her a toothy grin. "I know he didn't make you cum."

Iris doesn't know it, but she's programmed to be devoted to Josh and only Josh. But something inside her wants to claw its way out and have you. Another part of her thinks it's wrong. You're her friend and she's with Josh. She shouldn't be thinking about this with you.

She laughs awkwardly and shakes her head, looking at you with innocence. "It's okay. It doesn't really matter. As long as Josh is satisfied, I'm happy."

Your eyes darken as she says that and you feel jealousy rise in your throat. "Has he ever made you cum, Iris? Has he ever even touched you?"

Iris thinks about it. All those times with Josh and not once did he repay the favor. But like she said, as long as Josh is happy.

She shakes her head and shifts on her feet, not knowing whether the wetness in her panties is Josh's cum or her own lubrication from this conversation. She throbs either way.

"No." she murmurs, swallowing hard.

You shuffle closer until your noses are barely an inch away. Her eyelashes flutter as you rest your hands on the sink and lean in, ghosting over her lips. "I can be your first."

Iris hums but it comes out like a whimper. Her hand comes up to pathetically push your chest but her nails dig into your shirt and she pulls you back last second to make you stay. "What about him?" It takes Iris too long to remember Josh's name as you stare her down like that, but she glances at the bathroom door.

"He doesn't have to know." you reassure her, grabbing her hand and looking for any sign of discomfort before sliding it down to cup your strap bulge. "Not like he'll be able to smell me on you anyway."

You speak again, letting your hand go from hers just to see if she keeps it there. She does. "Do you wanna do this?"

"Yes." she nods, looking down and squeezing your bulge.

You smirk and a thought comes across your mind. Josh has given Iris robot commands right in front of her face and she didn't even know it. You really wanna try it out.

"Iris, bend over." Your voice is a little timid as you speak, but there's a roughness to it.

Will it even work? Does she only respond to Josh's voice?

Suddenly, she's twisting in your grasp and showing her ass to you, waiting for you to take her. Holy fuck. It does work. Your eyes widen at how easily she listened, and now you kind of get why Josh does it so often. But fuck him still.

You quickly unzip your jeans and take out your strap, already breathing hard at the fact that you're going to be the one to make Iris cum for the first time. You hold onto her waist and smile at how she jumps with nervousness. Hooking your fingers into her panties, you pull them down and shudder at how glossy her pussy is. You admire it for too long apparently because Iris backs up and huffs, looking over her shoulder with big eyes.

"You said you'd make me cum." she impatiently whines.

"And I am. Bet Josh would already be passed out inside your cunt right now, huh? You're left throbbing around him, pretending you're satisfied, but you know you want more." You wrap your hands around the dildo and rub the tip up and down her slit, your heart beating rapidly when she moans loudly. "I'm gonna take my time making you feel good."

Slowly you enter her, desperately wishing you could feel her tight hole struggle around your cock as you watch it disappear inside. Iris' jaw goes slack as you bottom out, and she hisses in slight pain when you grip her hips to hold her hips tight against you. Fuck. Josh isn't nearly as big as you. She can feel her brain go numb as you start to move slowly, and the hand she has on the counter slips momentarily, causing her to lean forward and arch her back.

"Oh, my God." she moans, eyes rolling to the back of her head. She nearly chokes on her spit when your thumb rubs at her clit, and her hands start to shake.

With one hand on her hip and the other on her back, you roughly start to thrust into her. The sounds she makes plus the skin-on-skin contact makes you throw your head back, relishing the moment you've thought of for so long.

Iris's brow furrows as she feels this weird sensation in her lower belly. She looks at you in the mirror but you have your eyes closed. The pressure builds and builds until she can't hold it anymore, and she gushes all over your strap. You have to slap your hand over her mouth to conceal the moans spilling out of her lips. You're worried that she'll wake Josh, and as hot as that might seem, you really don't wanna have that conversation right now.

Iris pants against your hand and if you had a real cock, it would be leaking so much cum inside of her right now. She's so fuckin' hot, you think. Especially as you feel her body shake uncontrollably as she tries to come down from her first orgasm.

She taps your side with a weak finger and you remove your hand from her mouth, noting how much drool is now on it.

"That's what they feel like?" she breathes out heavily, trying her best to sit up a little straighter to look at you in the mirror. You laugh at her stunned face and she cracks a smile too. Her mouth makes an 'O' shape when you slowly slide out of her, and she shakes her head desperately. "No, stay inside. Please? Just for a little longer."

Her voice sounds shy and needy as she asks, and how could you ever deny her? You push yourself back in and grunt at the sloppy sound her pussy makes, leaning forward to rest your body weight on her as you hug her.

"Can we do this again soon?" you mumble against her cheek, thumb rubbing soft circles on her arm.

"Josh is a heavy sleeper. Why not do it again right now?"

[aliceinborderlandsquidgame]

Yandere Alphabet | Gi-hun (S1 + S2)

TEMPLATE CREDIT

Warnings: Yandere themes - Toxic!Gi-hun - Obsessive!Gi-hun - Suggestive - NON CANON BACKGROUND -

Note: You can read S1 and S2 as him being with the same Darling after the games.

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

S1: First, S1 Gi-hun its a delusional Yandere. He believes because you helped him once now you are in love with him and then he must be in love with you too. Right ? Its the logical thing to do. So his ways of showing love are extavagant. He has no money, so he goes back to make you handmade gifts and gives them to you. He is telling everybody that you two are together (no one believes him). He will take you out for walks and have you by the arm pointing out at different things with a big dork smile.

S2: This Man has trauma. Being his darling its now different. He is possessive of you. Wants to know where you are during all the time. In fact he may not let you leave the hotel where he lives now. Is he less obsess with you ? No. His way of showing affection did change. He will try and get you things you like from your home so you are more comfortable. Gets your favorite food and drinks. Pulls you on his lap and kisses your head. It helps him ground himself.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

S1: If he can avoid fights then he does. He is hella scared of the loan sharks but if they even try and go to you so he can hurt him. He gets ready to give a fight (he loses).

S2: MURDER.

No one touches you or dares to look at you. He is willing to get his hand full of blood in order to protect you.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

S1: He most likely wont abduct you. He will take you to dates and think that you two are already in a deep relationship (its the second date).

S2: If you are so negative to go with him then he ends taking you by force. He wont mock you, will tell you its for your own safetly even if you dont believe him.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

S1: NEVER. He loves you and thinks you are an angel. If anything he thinks he does not deserve you at all. So the idea of doing anything that you dont want its not appealing to him.

S2: Yes, forces you to live with him. But thats how deep it goes. If you wanna go out then he goes with you. You are not allowed outside his watch.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

S1: He shares all his feelings with you. From love to the dark thoughts he has because of his problems with debts, alcohol and races.

S2: He gets a bit more secretive at first. But believes its best if you know whats going on so you understand all he does its for your protection. Lots of nights he finds himself cuddling you or asking to cuddle. He feels too bad sometimes and only you can help him feel right.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

S1: A fight would broke because of his own problems. During it he can be quiet cruel and blame you (who just told him to drink less or stop gambling). After it he would feel terrible and would beg for you to forgive him.

S2: Fights back and actually manages to make you pass out. He is done playing nice. Its not like he would hurt you with intent. But he wants you to stay with him and cause him no problem than the ones he already has.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

S1: No. He is delusional and in love. He would hate if you decide to leave him and would chase after you begging for another chance.

S2: No. But he wont like it. If he sees you trying to escape he is giving you a stern talk, with lots of screaming too.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

S1: With S1 Gi-hun the worse that you can go with him its a really nasty fights with lots of insults. The Man will later feel terrible and beg you to forgive him or gashlight you into beliving it was your fault and that he is the one hurting the most.

S2: A fight too but also the insolation and lack of freedom. He wants you to have zero contact with the exterior world. Beliving that will keep you safe. Most fights are around that topic of you wanting to leave and him not allowing it. However he will leave bruises on you because he held you with too much Force during the fight. He feels bad and cures them after it but its firm on not letting you go.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

S1: He wants to marry you and form a family together. Has no sense of his own life so he thinks you too can end living on the countryside with two kids and a dog.

S2: Just peace. He is so dam stressed and tense from the trauma and from looking for the Salesman. He just wants to find peace with you. He may toy the idea of getting married but now its not the time.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

S1: Yes. This is based on his insecurity, thinking you deserve better but also thinking you will eventually leave him. He gets easily jealous but acts like a kid. Wont talk about it and ignore you till you are the one who beings it into conversation.

S2: Also YES. But this time is becuase he finds himself unable to trust others. Chances of you talking with others are slim since he keeps you caged but even with that...he still gets jealous.

A fair example would be when Jun-ho shows up and puts two and two together that you are there against your will and will try to convince you to help him or to let him help you. Gi-hun knows Jun-ho its a valuable asset for finding the island but its not against the idea of threating him if he crosses the line and offers you help.

Other type would be if by a fatal chance you end finding the Salesman in the hotel. He is not there for you but will have his fun tormenting him. Maybe he will get inside all worried and see him having tied you up and taunting you with his gun then would look at Gi-hun like he has the upper hand (and he does).

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

S1: Sweet boy!! Crumbles when he is with you. Begs for kisses and hugs. Does not mind if its summer or if you or him are sweaty. All he wants its you by him. He also does not mind PDA!! Would hold hands and kiss your cheeck in front of others.

S2: Its more reserved. He still likes to hold you but does not act like a sick puppy. He finds you being his light with all the trauma he has to deal with.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

S1: Probably saw you one time and thought how cute you were. And kept looking at you till he felt it was a good time to approach you. Its slow at it, its obvious he has fallen for you HARD. He cant control his blush and his words are a mess when he first tries to talk to you. The good thing is he makes you laught! And that laught its music to his ears. Once he feels more confident he will ask you out, but for that he will need at least two months on meeting up.

S2: He will first make sure that no one suspicious is around you. He got quiet paranoid after finding out he had a tracker on him...

Once he finds its safe enough he will show to you again. He does promise to eventually tell you what did happen but...first he needs you to go with him. If you dont want to move in then he will stay with you for sometime till the fear of someone coming for you its too much. And he decides to take drastic methods.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

S1: No. He may be more sweet with you but his personality its the same. A goofy man who has lots of problems but cares deeply for others as well.

S2: Yes. With you he is softer, lets you see his hurt side. How much the games have affected him. He is usually cold and with a firm exterior. No one really knows what he is thinking. But with you his walls falls and he lets you see just how truly tired he is. He is still protective and caring. But his goofy side its gone.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

S1: He does not really needs to punish you. Besides him being delusional for you at the end you two are dating and its normal. So he does not need to ever punish you.

S2: Mentally. This most likely happens if he catches you wanting to leave him or escape. He is going to tell you the terrible things he saw at the games and how he still lived. Basically he makes you see him as the only person who can protect you.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

S1: Maybe he will take more of your time and wont let you see your Friends as much as you used to. But he blames that on you and that you dont give him enough time as a couple.

S2: FREEDOOM. You are down to live with him at the hotel and does not let you leave for nothing. Even if you need to see a Doctor he gets you one that works under the law. Food ? He has people to get you that. Some medicine or personal things ? He gets that himself.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

S1: Not a lot. He is quick to judge if he feel insecure over the relationship. Of course its never his fault but yours.

S2: He is more patient now with you because he knows the situation its really different from how it used to be. Does not mean he does not get angry specially after so many times when he told you how dangerous its for you to be on your own.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

S1: Probably yes and no. Gi-hun loves but its also not aware of how to love. Does it make sense ? He may move on but never truly do it. Like moments of you two together will be back to his mind and then he ends sad the rest of the day. This is for both if you die or leave him.

S2: No. You were all he had and hoped that you would give him some type of comfort and sense of home and normal after the games. If you leave him he will go and try to find you. If you die he blames it on himself forever. Its another death under his name.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

S1: He did not abduct you so he does not feel guilty. Not even when he knows he is making you feel bad so you stay with him. So no, he wont let you go.

S2: No. He believes its for your own safety so no. And you wont ever leave him.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

S1: Curiosity. He was a odd one in the good sense. The type of naive person that just atracts others. His life may have made him like that.

S2: Trauma. After the games he ends so Traumatic that his yandere tendecies get worse and change.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

S1: Guilt but not enought to let you go. Look he is insecure you will leave him for other or others (Friends) so he does not get that sad seeing you insolate yourslef from others. Just...dont do it from him. Then he will feel truly bad.

S2: Sad, stressed, guilty and frustration. He knows its not your fault and that you should not be forced to hide with him (in fact he should not be forced to hide either). He wanted a normal relationship with you once he got out from the games but understood that would never happen. He ends stressed because he worries of your well being and frustrated because he has explained to you lots of times why he does this.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

S1 + S2: No, they both follow a classic Yandere path. S2 its more possessive and uses more drastic methods while S1 was more naive as a Yandere but did blame you a lot so you would stay.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

S1: His insecurity and worries over debts. If his darling is Smart and can see that he is trying to blame them on feeling bad then they can turn the cards and blame him and make him feel bad.

S2: Guilt but it would be really hard to escape from him. Most likely you will end getting more restrains.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

S1: Mentally ? Yes. May be on accident during a fight, mean things would be said. And if its on purpose then his words are more calculated ones.

S2: Would try not to but he may do something. Nothing too harsh or scary.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

S1: A LOT. He is so in love, he believes every action you do its just PERFECT. No matter what you do.

S2: Same but its more reserved about it. Like he would smile at you at what you are doing at any moment.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

S1: He follows you around for around two months till he finally decides to ask you out. But in his mind you two were almost dating, if you gave him a smile or were polite at him he is a goner. The reason he asks you out formally its because he does not understand why you dont seem to have his number or why you two dont go out.

S2: After getting back to Seoul he will look for you, he is scared the ones behind the game may have gone after you since he did threath them. So once back he is going to your usual place and bringing you with him. He did not go sooner because he felt like you deserved better and that he was not healthy for you (after what he lived) but that its out the moment he realizes you may be in fatal danger.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

S1: No. He does not have the will to or energy.

S2: No. He cant bring himself to hurt you in that way. He will try till the end for you to understand this is the best for you.

[supercap2319]

For Valentine's day, Y/N gets Peter some donuts that look like those heart candies with lovey dovey stuff written on them.

Sweet Treats:

Y/N hummed to him as he stepped into Peter’s apartment, the scent of fresh donuts wafting up from the pink bakery box in his hands. Valentine’s Day wasn’t about grand gestures for them—it was about the little things. And what better way to show love than with something sweet?

Peter was sprawled out on the couch, wearing an old Midtown High hoodie, his hair a tousled mess. He looked up at the sound of the door, his face instantly lighting up. “Hey, you.” He said, stretching like a lazy cat. “Whatcha got there?”

Y/N smirked and set the box down on the coffee table. “A little Valentine’s surprise. Open it.”

Peter sat up, curiosity flickering in his warm brown eyes. He flipped open the lid—and immediately grinned. Inside, the donuts were decorated like classic conversation hearts, each one frosted in pastel shades with tiny messages piped in icing: "Be Mine," "Spider-Bae," "I ❤️ U," "Kiss Me," and, of course, "Thwip Me or Whip Me.”

Peter let out a breathy laugh. “You did not.”

“Oh, I absolutely did.” Y/N said, crossing his arms smugly. “Figured you deserved something extra sweet today.”

Peter reached for a pink donut with “Spider-Bae” written on it and took a bite, his eyes practically rolling back in delight. “Okay, I think I love you more than I love these donuts.” He paused, then added, “Actually… yeah, definitely more than the donuts. But it’s close.”

Y/N laughed, nudging his knee with theirs. “Good save, Tiger.”

Peter set the donut down and tugged Y/N into his lap, wrapping his arms around him in a warm embrace. “Seriously, though. This is the best surprise ever.” He murmured against his hair.

Y/N smiled, resting his forehead against Peter's. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Peter.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Y/N.” He whispered before stealing a frosting-sweet kiss.

[wafywaify]

I fuck HARD with harem master ning yingying.. like yes, she does deserve all those women and yes she will treat them better than binghe ever did.

I can imagine her setting up weekly bonding sessions with everyone. Theyd be having the largest sleep overs ever. She personally makes it a mission to please every wife in her own way.. one wife wants a pet dragon? Hell yeah pookie. Another wants a vacation half across the world?? Already done.

And now that ning yingying is taking care of literally everyone, making sure everyone is equally loved and all that good stuff.. murder attempts stop happening within the harem?? There hasn't been any harem drama in a month??? Who wouldve thunk. Just.. I love when the wives get attention in binggeyuan fics. I feel so bad for them bro like they just want love. My girl yingying can handle it. (With the help of sha hualing and liu mingyan ofc)