#;NO MATTER HOW HARD I TRIED I COULD NOT STOP TIME. IN THE END... I AM STILL ALONE. (musings)

[selfindulgenceisthekey]

If You Thought It Was Real Pt. IX

Pt. I Pt. II Pt. III Pt. IV Pt. V Pt. VI Pt. VII Pt. VIII

Once again, thank you @hannahbarberra162 for beta reading! Enjoy! <3

You’d like to say this was a thought-out plan. It was, at the very least, a half-thought-out plan. Maybe bordering on a quarter of a plan. Regardless, you had put some thought into it. The crew had ten people, and of those ten people, four had devil fruit powers. Which meant four of them couldn’t dive into the water after you. It was all a matter of timing after the plan started; if you were anywhere close to any of the others, then your plan would go up in flames.

Though part of you knew it wouldn’t work regardless of how much planning you implemented. Still, hope and fear make people do stupid things. 

Your strength was only back to a degree; you could stand and walk a bit longer than when you were first moving around. Though your ribs still stung when you breathed too hard, and your ankle felt seconds away from rolling again. If you continued to sit around and be complacent, who knows what would end up happening?

You knew what would end up happening; time would continue to slip by and before you knew it you will have spent your whole life on a ship with people who were supposed to be distant memories. 

You had to do this.

The storm approaching slowly gave you a perfect opportunity; most of the members were busy listening to Nami’s instructions to help steer clear of the worst parts and prepare for the rough waters ahead. Robin, and her terrifying many arms, were nowhere near you. If you managed to get into the ocean, even her devil fruit powers wouldn’t help her. 

When you were woken up that morning, sluggish and stressed from overthinking the night before, and Chopper told you he and Brook would be accompanying you for a walk today, you knew this had to be your moment. Neither of them, from what you’d seen, had terrifying reflexes, and neither of them could jump into the water after you. Sanji pranced into the sick bay, a steaming bowl of cinnamon oatmeal in his hands, as you sat silently, listening to him discuss the meal preparation that would keep him busy. To you, it was like he was gifting you the perfect opportunity, though he discussed being away from you in the kitchen like it were the most heartbreaking thing in the world.

You just nodded, eating your breakfast with shaky hands. Chopper was worried your body was being strained, and your response was a shrug, knowing full well it was a mixture of anticipation and anxiety. The oatmeal sat like lead in your stomach.

As the three of you strolled along the deck, Chopper voiced his concerns about the impending storm. . You went along, quiet and complacent as he and Brook walked slowly with you. The skeleton was discussing some composition he’d been working on, Chopper listening along intently. The sea was vast, and empty. There were no ships or land that you could see. That wouldn’t stop you, that couldn’t stop you.

The time in between you stepping out and landing in the water was a blur, words sounded fuzzy, and your eyes couldn’t focus on anything. You almost didn’t even realize you’d gone through with it until you were submerged in the water, the cold waves sending shocks through your system. It took every muscle in your being not to gasp, knowing at least subconsciously you’d inhale water.

Adrenaline was pumping through you, and as you tried to adjust to the cold all around you, all you could hear was your own heartbeat. Still, you knew it was only a matter of time before someone dove in after you. That realization had your heart freezing in your chest— someone was going to come in after you. Why wouldn’t they? Why didn’t you think of that?

You couldn’t focus on that. Using all the strength you could force into your limbs, you went against your body’s natural desires and swam down into the ocean. You didn’t know where you were or where you were headed, just determined to be away from the ship. Your lungs were burning, but you refused to resurface; you’d sooner drown.

You felt something splash near you, rippling the water against your body. You couldn’t risk turning, too focused on trying to get all your body parts to cooperate and willing your speed to kick in. All those hopes crashed the moment you felt an arm wrap around your waist. It wasn’t Sanji, judging by the size and lack of button-up.

Zoro.

Shit, this was worse. So much worse. Change of plans.

You changed focus from swimming to escaping, or at least causing him so much annoyance he’d let go. So you began flailing, making it harder for him to push upwards and resurface both of you. You hit and scratched, pushing your nails into his arm, feeling slight satisfaction every time you broke the skin. It wasn’t working, and your vision was wavering due to the lack of oxygen. Even if you had your full strength you knew it wouldn’t have mattered; you fighting against his strength wasn’t even a minor issue for him.

You two gasped nearly in sync as your heads reached the air, and your breath was quick, almost painful. Despite the bone-deep exhaustion, you felt you kept struggling, flailing in his one-armed grip around you. He was grunting, though he sounded more annoyed than strained. 

“Let go,” The words came out more of a wet cough than a threat, and you slammed your fists against his arm as hard as you could manage when he started swimming back towards the ship.

“Quit it,” Zoro’s response was sharp, and despite the fear his tone struck, you kept struggling.

Like hell you’d just lie down and be taken back to the ship. Again. The closer the ship got, the more desperate you felt. Hitting and scratching weren’t doing anything, so you leaned your head down, sinking your teeth into his forearm.

He didn’t respond; the only thing proving you had inflicted any physical damage was the taste of copper in your mouth. You bit down harder, maybe by some sheer luck, you’d be able to bite through his muscles, down to the bone. But—

“Love-cook may not hit women, but if you don’t let up I will,” His words were harsh, and they struck you to your core. So far, none of them had hurt you physically, but you were always afraid for that moment that one of them would. Looking at your position, it felt like you had created that moment. 

The fight that had been keeping you going was gone, and as Zoro climbed the ladder lowered down for him, you hung limp in his arm. What had you been thinking? Did you really think that would have worked? Even if you had been strong enough to swim farther, they had a fishman on their crew; if not Zoro, then Jinbe would have gotten to you within seconds. And if you had managed to drown yourself, or even come close, Chopper would have been able to bring you back easily. 

How could you be so stupid? 

Your legs couldn’t hold your weight as Zoro dumped you  back on board. Kneeling over yourself, dripping water, you kept your head bowed, staring down at the floorboard. Everyone was already closing in on the two of you, their voices muffled and overlapping. The familiar scent of cigarettes came close, and you didn’t have to look up to know Sanji was now next to you as he kneeled by your side. He moved to wrap a towel around your shoulders, soft and warm against your skin.

You wanted to laugh, hysterical and broken. You wanted to cry and scream. You didn’t react at all. He didn’t say anything, or maybe he did, you weren’t sure of anything going on around you.

Your name was called, a handful of times, before you finally looked up. Nami was in front of you, kneeled to be face to face with you. Her expression was blank, but her eyes were on fire. You heard the slap before you felt it, head turning sharply to the right. The crack was loud enough to silence the rest of the crew, and the stinging pain came seconds later. You were fully back in your body, bringing a hand up to cradle your now-burning cheek. Despite the mixture of feelings burning through your chest, you turned your head back, eyes wide as you stared at her.

“What the hell were you thinking?” She wasn’t yelling, but for some reason, you wished she had been.

She surged forward, grabbing you by the front of your soaking shirt, just holding you in place, “You already hurt Sanji once before! You already hurt us once before! What the hell were you thinking— are you trying to kill yourself? Are you so determined to hurt us that you’d do something so stupid?”

Her violence towards you was enough to leave you stunned, but her words rekindled that anger and that fight that had been buried. You only had so much strength, moving a hand up to grip her wrist, not able to tear it away or move it. 

“Your captain kidnapped me,” Your voice was hoarse still, raw and borderline painful in your throat, “You all act like I want to be here— like there’s no problems!”

“You’d probably be dead if he didn’t!” She wasn’t backing down, and it felt like if anything, your words only fueled her fire, “I’ve seen men like the ones from your island, I’ve worked for people like the ones you did! Luffy saved you, and you could at least act somewhat grateful for that!”

“I’m not grateful!” You were shouting now, tears flowing and mixing with the salt water on your face, “I’m not grateful— he should have left me there! I’ve known for years I’d die on that island, I’m not like you all! I’ve long since given up my dreams, I’d accepted my fate! There’s no reason for me to keep living, and you all are the ones who need to accept that!”

You could feel the motion around you more than you could hear it, unsure who was moving. Sanji was still by your side, frozen where he knelt. One of his hands hovered over your shoulder, unsure. Nami tightened her grip on your shirt, shaking you once, twice— a few more times. The soreness was bleeding back into your muscles, and you wanted nothing more than for Sanji to step in. He’d been so protective over you since you had met; surely, he wouldn’t continue to let Nami get away with her abuse. But he didn’t say anything, he didn’t step in, he just turned to look away. He was uncomfortable with what was happening, but he made no moves to stop it.

No one did.

“That might have been true before,” Despite her anger, you could see a shine in her eyes. You were struck by how uncharacteristically emotional she was getting over this situation, “But you’re one of us now. You don’t get to make that decision for yourself!”

There was talking nearby, quiet murmuring. You weren’t even sure who it was that was speaking, your attention too focused on Nami. She was nearly shaking with rage where she was knelt in front of you, not able to say anything more. You couldn’t find anything to respond with, your hand still holding her wrist loosely. After what felt like an eternity, Sanji shifted, moving to unclasp Nami’s fingers from your shirt. 

“ Nami-swan, please,” His voice was thick, it sounded like he was putting effort into even forcing the words out of his mouth, “Let’s give Chopper some space.”

Give Chopper space? Why would she need to give—

The second your realization clicked in your mind, she had shifted to stand, stepping back so the doctor could move forward. You barely had time to open your mouth before he moved, little hooves holding a needle that was quickly stabbed into your tricep. Before you could yelp or move your arm, he was removing it, whatever liquid already injected into you. It was only a quick sting, but you still flinched, clinging to yourself. He looked sad, but at the same time serious.

“I’m afraid we’re going to have to keep you under surveillance going forward.” He spoke softly, as if explaining this to a wounded animal., “You tried to kill yourself., I can’t, as a doctor, let this happen again. Until you’re deemed to be safe to be by yourself, we’re going to have to implement a stricter schedule.”

The schedule they had you on was tight enough. You wanted to argue that, you wanted to cry or scream or even lash out at one of them. But your eyelids were already feeling so heavy, your arms felt like they weighed several tons. You blinked, each time your eyes closed, your vision became blurrier. You couldn’t feel most of your body now, any movement felt foreign. You were swaying where you were kneeling, that much you could make sense of. 

“What…” The word came out more like a whimper than a question, your head spinning as you processed that you were now looking up at the sky.

The clouds were rolling in faster, the blue skies completely overtaken by gray storms. You weren’t sure if it had begun raining, too soaked to tell, too out of it to know. You were being moved, and once more, the familiar scent of Sanji overtook your senses. 

He was carrying you, face locked and hard as he looked down. You were pliant in his arms, blinking sluggishly, unfocused gaze going back between the sky and his face. The mesh of clothes on you was still soaked, and he had the nagging worry of you catching a cold if you weren’t changed sooner rather than later. Chopper was with him, a few steps ahead as they made their way back to the sick bay. Brook followed, and though he lacked the skin to make facial expressions, Sanji could tell the skeleton man was feeling guilty.

Chopper was talking, his words coming out so fast, Sanji was mildly concerned he wasn’t breathing, “I know I promised we’d move her back to your room soon, Sanji! I’m so sorry! I’m a terrible doctor, I should have helped with her mental injuries too, not just her physical ones!”

“Hey, I don’t blame you,” He did his best to keep his voice gentle, though he didn’t look away from you as they made their way to the sick bay, and he carefully lowered you back onto your bed.

He knew what he had to grab, but he wanted to delay it as much as he was able. So he turned, looking from Brook to Chopper, “Neither of you, okay? We all should have paid more attention.”

Chopper just whimpered, tugging his hat over his eyes, and Brook looked down at his feet. Sanji sighed, running a hand through his hair, “All of this is new for her. She’s stressed and in over her head. We didn’t even think about trying to tell her what happened to her old hometown either, so she’s probably worried sick about a lot of people from there. Panic makes people do stupid things, and she probably couldn’t think properly.”

From behind his hat, with a muffled sniffle, Chopper nodded. Brook tilted his head, though he didn’t argue with Sanji’s words.

“Now we know what to look for, so she’ll be fine. I have no doubts, not with the world’s best doctor caring for her.”

The little wiggle dance came as an instant response, and wet giggles came from their youngest crew member. 

“That doesn’t make me happy at all, you jerk!” He pushed his hat back up, eyes still shiny, but determined, “I promise, Sanji, I’ll do everything I can to make her better!”

“I don’t doubt it.”

“I also wish to lend a promise, though I’m not a doctor like our Chopper is, some have said that music is the medicine for the mind. I’lll draft a tune elegant enough to bring a smile back to her beautiful face!” 

Sanji nodded, glad that he was able to bring a buzz back to his crewmates’ steps. Though the comfort lasted for seconds, before his own heaviness returned. Brook, taking this as his cue to step outside, took his leave Once alone, Chopper began to fidget again.

“Um, Sanji? Do you think we should…?”

“I think it’s time,” Sanji was quick to admit, turning back to face you.

It would be easy to pretend you were just asleep, the rise and fall of your chest slow and peaceful. He winced as he realized how cold your skin was from the water, and he moved quickly. Chopper helped, grabbing clean sheets and placing them nearby, before grabbing from the pile of clothes Nami and Robin had lent. 

Though the two of you had spent countless nights together, you had never fallen intimate with each other quite yet. Sanji had hoped the first time he’d undressed you in full would be under different circumstances. He had been hoping for passion, maybe some well-lit candles. Beggars, apparently, could not be choosers. So he had to settle on this, taking in the sights of your bare skin as he changed you into dry clothes. 

Yellowing bruises still clung to your skin, and there were faint scars trailing different areas of your body. Chopper being in the room was the only reason his hands hadn’t wandered more; the softness of your skin was too tempting. 

Still, he was a gentleman. 

He gave pause, letting Chopper remove the wet bandages before replacing them with sterile ones. Once he deemed them secure, Sanji continued. Sleep shorts from Nami, a tank top from Robin, and once more, a sweatshirt that was Sanji’s. Once you and the bed were dry, he stepped back, almost admiring the work before him.

“Do, uh,” Chopper held them forward, “Do you want me to do it? Or would you like to?”

“Would you mind?”

Chopper shook his head, a small smile on his face, “Luffy said if we had to use it, you’d probably want to say when! So I trust you!”

Patting the little reindeer's head, Sanji grabbed the handcuffs from his grasp. They were lucky you weren’t a devil fruit user; they tried to limit the amount of sea prism stones they came into contact with. He rolled one of your sleeves up, enough space on your wrist to securely fasten one end of the cuffs on, before moving to attach the other to the bedrail. He tugged on it a few times, feeling satisfied with its lack of give.

“I’ll stay in here with her,” Chopper moved to hop onto his stool, sliding it to his working table, “Just for now. She won’t be awake for at least fifteen hours, and even then, she’ll be super groggy and really out of it. Nami says the storm will have passed by then!”

Sanji really didn’t want to leave the room; his skin was crawling at the idea of it. But each crew member had a job to do right now, and that included him. Chopper was watching over you, so he knew you’d be in good hands. He leaned down, lips pressing against your forehead, lingering for a moment as he took in the smell of sea salt. The reminder of what happened mere minutes ago had anger boiling up in him. Taking a deep breath, he stood, adjusting his tie as he made his way to the door.

“Oh,” Chopper called after him as the door shut, “I have some crushed-up sedative pills too, if you want to mix them into her food! It won’t be as strong as this, this was a level four, the ones for the food are more a- a level two and a half! I made it for situations like this.”

“Thank you, Chopper,” He sent the little doctor a smile, hearing the rumbling of the storm that was right overhead, “If you get a chance to drop them off in the kitchen, I’ll be using those with her next meal.”

A/N: I love schedules! Right now this is posted as I'm (probably) asleep on a plane! <3

Taglist: @hannahbarberra162 @sagyunaro @twismare @nerium21 @the-maladaptive-daydreamers @glaciuswduo @thekatisspooky @kultofkorii @cr4zybeach @ceramic-raven @theweirdgirl606 @jjsmeowthie @dinnersyummy @jetblackw1ngs @mizzhellsingsstuff @naheku @onepieceofass @zoecelestine @1sosleepyy @rururgent @flow33didontsmoke @mizzhellsingsstuff @maria-chwan @honestlywtfisgoingon @qalable

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

WHATCHA DOING- M. MURDOCK

day twenty six of the june bug masterlist

pairing: ex- boyfriend! matt murdock x fem! reader (fake dating)

word count: 3.7k

summary: your distant cousin invites you and your ex-boyfriend matt to her wedding, under the impression the two of you are still together. wanting to keep the peace, you decide to invite him with you as your "fake" partner, in hopes it can rekindle the flame.

warnings: SMUT, praise kink, petnames, choking, flirting, sexual tension, fake dating trope!, kissing/ making out, mentions of alcohol, swearing

 “whatcha doin' to me, baby? i’m scared to death/ that you might be the one to change me, you're in my head/ and now you're cloudin' my decisions, got me headin' for collision…”- whatcha doing, dua lipa

 The corner of the envelope dug into your skin as you grasped the thick material, scanning over the fancy cursive, in bright red ink.

A smudge on your name, making it appear as if it was blood.

A scarlet letter.

Matt’s name next to yours was something you hadn't seen in months. It was as if time had stopped for a second, and you were no longer in a rush to scramble out of your work clothes and to pour a glass of wine.

It had been a long, tiring day at the office, the piles of papers seeming to stack so high they’d topple over with a single touch. It was dark when you entered those clear, revolving doors, and it was dark when you left them for the rush and bustle of the city's nightlife.

But the day had slipped out of reach as you saw your name next to your ex-boyfriends from your cousin.

It had been months since you and Matt were together, and you had tried so hard to put that past you. Things had ended on decent terms. No fall outs, no vicious fights or nasty words shouted. Things had just… disappeared.

Long, lonely nights became too much for you to bear. Now they were your typical nights.

Your cousin couldn't have known, of course.

You barely spoke to her, as she lived hours upon hours away- both of you too wrapped up with work and your own lives to make time to talk. But here her name was, on an envelope- containing a wedding invitation.

The words “You’re Invited” seemed to stare back at you, permanently etched onto your eyeballs.

Of course you would go, it only seemed right to support Hannah. She was your family, after all- and you were sure she would do the same for you…

Thoughts of what you and Matt could’ve been swirled around in your mind, covered by a translucent white wedding veil.

No. No, this was not about you- this was about her. You would do this for her, no matter how painful it was.

You took a deep breath, tossing the paper to the side. You’d deal with this later. Now, you just needed a hot, hot shower and sleep. Forget the wine. All you wanted was your head against your soft pillow as soon as possible.

As you trudged to the bathroom, all you could think of was Matt. How would you possibly explain this to him? Or your cousin? You were sure you could send her a letter back explaining everything… but… did you really want to?

You missed Matt more than anything.

This was… an opportunity.

An excuse, if you will- to see him again.

Did you really want to let that slip through your fingers?

You peeled your clothes off, running a hand through your hair as you stared at yourself in the mirror which had started to fog up, hot water running from the showerhead. It was so hot it burned as you stepped under the trickling water, and you let it.

You were stumped on what to do. At least that's what you told yourself as you let the steam scorch your skin, washing yourself with lavender soap.

But no amount of soap could wash away the memories of Matt Murdock, even as they spun down the drain.

·•—–٠✤٠—–•· ·•—–٠✤٠—–•· ·•—–٠✤٠—–•·

Listen, I need your help with something. I know it's been months since we’ve really talked, and we aren't together anymore but you  said if I needed anything to call or get you so here I am, at your law firm.

You almost laughed out loud at how stupid that sounded. Here you were, on your way to Matt's office on a Friday afternoon, practically about to get on your knees and beg like a whining puppy. You didn't want to call him and ask, that seemed too… fake.

You had been together for three years, the least you could do was ask him to be your fake boyfriend/ date to this wedding in person. You owed him that much.

Unless he wanted nothing to do with you anymore. Then the phone call would be better, the rejection wouldn't be visible on his face and it wouldn't cut as deep.

It was too late now. You were nearly at his firm, nothing with you but your purse, and the invitation. Your pride and dignity was left at home. You felt yourself start to slow, taking a deep breath as you turned the corner to a street you knew all so well.

It had been a while since you had been around this area of the city. But it was as if you had never left. Nelson and Murdock reflected in the sunlight, the gold freshly polished, catching your eye. A contrast against the bright red brick, just like the envelope.

You were tired of red. All it reminded you of was Matt.

You yanked open the door, the lock seeming faulty as you struggled to twist it open. It was cold as you entered, the air on full blast- the walls in the hallway empty, and plain white. Your heels clicked against the tile floors past the empty offices before finally reaching theirs.

It had been months since you had seen Foggy or Karen, and you hoped they were there. Just because you and Matt were not speaking as much didn't mean you had to have a falling out with your mutual friends. It was just a lot more difficult when they were so far and worked with your ex.

You finally reached their office, ignoring the ‘Back in Thirity Minitues’ sign draped over the handle. From what you remembered, they usually had their lunch break here.

“Oh I’m sorry we’re just on bre-” She paused, realization coming across her features as you walked in.

“Y/N! Ohmygosh!” You smiled as Karen skipped over for a hug, gripping you tightly, swaying you back and forth.

“Its so good to see you again!”

“Its been so long. I’ve missed you.” you smiled, squeezing her hands as she entangled them with yours, squeezing them back. She looked well and happy, cheeks a rosey tint, smile bright on her face.

You really did miss Karen. She was always so kind to you, even when you and Matt had split.

“Is Matt here?” you asked, and her smile faltered.

“Yeah, just in his office. Why, is everything okay? I mean I figured you were here to see him but ya know, you havent been here since things..”

“I’m okay, really. I just need to speak with him. Do you think he’d be okay with me coming in?”

She nodded. “Of course! Just go back and knock.”

You thanked her, sending a wave to Foggy through his opened door, his legs crossed up on his desk. You took a deep breath, hand resting on the doorhandle. You knew Matt could hear your uneven breaths, and he knew you were here.

If anything, it made you more nervous.

You rattled your knuckles against the wood, poking the door open a sliver. “Matt? Can I come in?” you asked softly, and he poked his head up from his papers, his fingers leaving the braille.

“Y/N. I was waiting for you.” he smiled softly, that boyish grin so familiar to you.

You missed it. You slipped through the crack, shutting the door softly behind you.

“You were?”

“Well yes, your anxious pacing down the hall could probably be heard down the block.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes. “Hardy har. Very funny Murdock.”

He smiled, rubbing his hand through his hair. “How've you been?” he asked, all teasing dropped from his voice. You sighed, letting out a gentle laugh. That was a loaded question.

“I’ve been okay. Just.. ya know.”

His eyebrow raised. You sighed, sitting down in the chair across from him.

“My cousin is getting married soon, Hannah- you know, you’ve met her. And she sent us an invitation.”

“Us?”

You anxiously fiddled with your fingers, wringing them out. “Yeah… she didn't know we broke up. And she sent an invitation to both of us, and I just don't wanna trouble her with everything, and make things more difficult than they need to be.” you mumbled.

“Understandable.” he said, tilting his head. You didn't know if he knew where this was going or not. Hesitant to go on you cleared your throat anxiously.

“Well, I was wondering… could you maybe be my fake date to the wedding?”

He laughed. “Fake date? Of course princess. I think I’ve had some practice with that.”

“You- you mean you’ll do it? Seriously?”

You let out a small sigh of relief. Jesus. Okay, this wasn't going as bad as you thought it would.

“Course I will. Is there an open bar?”

“Yes. At least I think so.”

He nodded, extending his hand out for you to shake. “Then I’m there. It’s a deal.”

You gripped his hand, the skin slightly caloused and rough against your soft skin, but he was so warm compared to your chilled body. You savoured the warmth as he took your hand and brought it to his lips, planting a little kiss to your knuckles.

“A deal. Thank you Matt, seriously. It really means a lot.”

“I told you you could ask for my help anytime, for anything did I not? I still care about you, Y/N.”

Yeah, but not the way I want you to care about me, you thought- clinging to the ghost of the past as his hand brushed yours. Your skin prickled with little needles as you slipped it back in your lap, replacing his touch with your own to self soothe.

“I know.” was all you could slip out meekly, biting your lip hard enough until you tasted coper.

“Just call sometime and tell me the details okay? I think I’ll have the hang of pretending to be your boyfriend. Past experience and what not, it's already on the resume.”

You couldn't help but giggle at his remark, so overcome with relief you felt slightly dizzy as you stood, a foot already out the door before you could muster a goodbye and another thank you.

Okay, so this was really happening. Matt was going to the wedding with you, as your boyfriend.

Your fake boyfriend.

·•—–٠✤٠—–•··•—–٠✤٠—–•··•—–٠✤٠—–•·

You stared at yourself in the mirror, the dim, yellow hotel lighting making you look almost sickley.

You felt sick.

You felt like your entire breakfast was going to come back up and out of you, all over the reflective surface.

You didn't know if you could handle Matt's touches and looks towards you when others stared, knowing deep down it wasn't real. But you had asked him- for Christ's sake to do this. You had to pull yourself together.

You brushed the anxiety to the side, trying to push down the nausea as you pulled up your dress. It fit perfectly, and you couldn't help but feel a smidge proud of yourself for how well it suited you. There was just one little problem.

“Matt?”

You stepped out of the bathroom, clutching your dress. His head turned to the sound of your voice as he sat on the end of the hotel bed, waiting for you.

“Could you um… help me zip up this dress?” you asked, wincing slightly at how coupley it felt.

He smiled, fingers curling- indicating to come over to him. He stood as you turned in front of him, breath hitching as he stood, towering over you, fingers tracing your curves before the bare skin of your lower back to find the zipper.

You sucked in a breath as he took his sweet time, slowly inching the zipper up until it was done up.

You didn't move. He took a deep inhale, as if trying to ground himself before mumbling in your ear.

“You smell really, really delicious.”

You reached for your clutch, then froze. And yet, he acted like nothing had happened.

“Shall we go?” he asked, placing his hands on your shoulders tenderly as he slipped by, off to the door with ease.

Like this was second nature to him.

·•—–٠✤٠—–•··•—–٠✤٠—–•··•—–٠✤٠—–•·

No amount of champagne could dull the thudding of your heart each time Matt touched you.

Which was a lot.

Always near you, a hand resting on your wrist as you sat at dinner, chatting with extended family- feeling your thumping pulse. An arm wrapped around your middle whenever you stood off to the side- giving you a little squeeze. He hadn't been so bold as to kiss you- but you wouldn't put it past him.

You had to give credit where credit was due- he was playing the shit out of this role. And the worst part? It didn't even feel like he was acting. It was as if the two of you had never changed. The dynamic was the same- from the way you looked at him- to the way his body seemed to mold perfectly next to yours.

And you couldn't even get upset at him for acting this well- because you had asked him to do this.

You had asked him to break your heart all over again, because it was a glimpse into the past, and the future. What could've been. You had placed that burden on yourself- letting yourself get pulled into this fantasy, this make believe that a spark was still engited. Despite it being a happy day, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment that things hadnt worked out between you and Matt.

This had just solidified the pain.

Maybe this was a stupid idea, you thought, nursing another glass of bubbly in the corner, sulking in the shadows.

Matt had disappeared to god knows where- which was good, it gave you time to be trapped with your thoughts as punishment. But before you could get too wrapped up in the chain of regrets, a hand brushed your lower back, just barely grazing your ass.

“You okay sweetheart?”

He had appeared as if he had heard your thoughts screaming for him telepathically. You hated him, for how well he could read you.

“I’m fine.”

He raised an eyebrow. “No, you’re not. You forget that I know you.”

“I know you know me.” you snapped, instantly regretting your harsh tone. “Sorry, fuck. I’m really sorry Matt I didn't mean to snap. Its just been a long day, and still is going to be a long night, I’m just tired and a little intoxicated, my feet hurt and- now I’m rambling arent I?”

He chuckled, giving your ass a little reasurring pat, feeling pairs of eyes on you two. You sucked in a breath, hating yourself for how much the simple flirtaous touch effected you.

“Go on sweetheart. Act like no ones watching us, yeah?”

You nodded, sighing before you took another sip of your drink. “I just- I kinda regret inviting you. Honestly.”

“Am I not doing good? Shit I’m sorry Y/N I thought things were going well-”

“No, no its not that. I guess I’m just, not handling this as well as I thought I could. And I’m honestly, a little bit jealous of Hannah. Which is such an awful thing to say, especially today.”

You shrugged, chugging back the rest of your glass. You felt his thumb start to rub your back soothingly, feeling the emotions bubble to the top.

You savoured it. There was a part of you that just wanted to say fuck it, and give up all control around him. He was dangerous, in that way. All decisions were clouded- as if you were speeding on a highway in nothing but fog.

Perfect for collisions.

Surely, he had to know what he was doing. He was being too perfect. And you desperately craved to find something wrong- and it worried you that you couldnt. Matt Murdock still had your heart captured, held between his fingers.

All he had to do was squeeze.

“Its not awful to say. And I get it, its weird to be here, us- together but Y/N… I’m really happy to be with you again. I’ve missed you. And I’m so, so honoured you asked me to come.”

You froze. “You missed me?”

He nodded, shrugging, as if it was the most obvious thing in the whole wide world. “Who wouldnt?”

That made you flustered. “I-I um… I missed you too Matt. A lot. I’m glad you feel the same.”

He smiled, that charming, handsome smile that sucked you in over three years ago, leaving the same warmth in your chest.

“Shall we dance? To escape your aunt who is rounding the corner as we speak?”

Not wanting to listen to her ramble on for thirty minutes, getting you both caught up in the cross-fire, you set down your empty glass and followed him onto the dancefloor.

Hands free, and heart soaring with hope at the idea maybe, just maybe- this was a good idea afterall.

·•—–٠✤٠—–•··•—–٠✤٠—–•··•—–٠✤٠—–•·

You wanted to scream at him.

What are you doing to me?!

His hands wandered, whether it was for show or sincere, you couldn't tell. But they were everywhere. On your hips, on your ass, stroking his fingers delicately up your bare arm, caressing your skin softly as they captured your jaw.

It was intoxicating.

You couldn't help but laugh at his ridiculously jokes, following him by the arm as he went and got more drinks for the two of you. It wasn't long before the night had gotten the best of you. Now you were screaming at him.

For different reasons.

“F-fuck Matt-” you moaned, clutching the marble vanity as he fucked you from behind. It hadn’t taken much longer before slow teasing kisses on the sides of the ballroom turned into hauling him into some rich, fancy bathroom.

You prayed the music was too loud for anyone to hear you if they walked by. But you couldn't control your noises. He felt too good. And he didn't you want you to control them either.

“Yeah sweetheart you keep making those pretty noises. I’ve missed them. And I’ve missed her- that sweet little pussy of yours that fits me just right. Like you were made for me.”

Your eyes rolled back at his filthy praises, thrusting in deeper as he hiked your dress skirt around your hips. You clung for dear life, the counter practically imprinting your palms as he showed you no mercy.

And you loved it.

You prayed to every god he would come undone, be the needy, desperate, controlling man you loved so dearly between your sheets before. That, it seems, had never left.

“You know that sweetheart? Couldnt fuck anyone else after you. This pussy is too fuckin good. Thought of her everynight with my hand around my cock.”

“Mhmm missed you s’much baby..” you panted, watching the way your tits bounced against the restraint of your dress, your lipstick smudged from when he had hoisted you up against the locked bathroom door and ravaged them like a man starved.

“I know. I know sweetheart just- fuck- just like that. Doing so good for me.” he praised, hand wrapping around your neck, squeezing it gently, just the way you liked- guiding you to arch even further as he kissed you.

Broken moans were swallowed by his tongue- the music outside cranked even louder.

Fuck. You prayed no one was looking for the two of you right now. In fact, after this- you’d find a way to sneak away with Matt- to who knows where, just to get another taste.

“Matt- Matty I’m gonna cum-”

“I can feel ya honey, s’okay. Just let go for me, I got you. I always got you.”

A kiss was planted to the top of your head, so gentle and loving it nearly sent a tear dripping down your cheek. You hadn't realized just how much you had missed him, not only his touch but the way his words, and the way he just… understood. It was like some patched hole in your heart had been fully healed, hearing his praise.

And it was wrong, and you prided yourself on your independence. But you'd do anything to crawl back to him. And it seemed he was right there, down to crawl and meet you there.

You came around him with a cry, legs quivering slightly as he held you up with ease. Your head was so foggy you could barely even register his praises- sounding like they were coming from above the surface of the sea.

Sweet whispers of I got you baby, or You did so good honey, gonna cum inside okay? N’fill you up? Sounded like sweet melodies, and you nodded absent mindley as he filled you up to the brim, the warmth coating your insides.

“Matt- t-thank you.” you whispered as he slowly slipped out, planting a sweet kiss to your shoulder as his cum spilled down your inner thighs.

“Why are you thanking me honey?” he asked softly, grabbing some paper towels to try and clean you up the best he could.

“For making me feel so loved.”

You felt a tear slip down your cheek and he froze, a concerned crease in his forehead as he spun you around, wiping the salty tear with a thumb, letting it slowly rub coaxing circles on your cheek.

“I’ve never stopped loving you sweetheart. I’m so, so sorry it had to be the way it did.”

You nodded, your lashes fluttering against your cheek as he pulled you in close, supporting your weight, your burdens, your fears as he held you to his chest. Letting you get out everything you needed to- no words spoken, just silent tears as your hands found their way to his suit jacket, fidgeting with the fabric.

“You wanna get out of here and feel loved some more?” he murmured, planting another kiss to the top of your head as he started to sway you side to side, like a rocking horse. Just as he used to do, when you were barefoot in the kitchen, in nothing but his t-shirt, slow dancing in the moonlight.

It was so calming you almost felt yourself drifting off against his beating heart, before you fully registered his words. Let yourself smile, and wipe away the tears.

“You really can read me, Murdock.”

[chiming-bluebells]

SHIFTERS BURN BOOK.

LEXI aka chiming-bluebells !!

NOTES IN THE MARGINS this page in the burn book is dedicated to the girl with charcoal smudged fingers and half-a-broken sketchbook. the one who goes by lexi. i’ve followed her for about a week. here are my observations:

MONDAY: today i saw her absolutely transfixed flipping through a picture book of john bauer’s artwork. and she keeps smiling whenever she spots a dragonfly, what’s up with that ????

WEDNESDAY: she either writes too much or nothing at all. once she does start writing however, she won’t stop until she’s finished. obsessive. crazy. has she ever heard of taking breaks?

THURSDAY: she yawns alot.

SUNDAY: she keeps going on and on about her realities. one look at her account, and it’s not hard to figure out which ones are her favourites. here is what i’ve gathered so far:

THE MAZE RUNNER once upon a time — believe it or not — lexi didn’t share much about her life in her maze runner dr. it was all locked up in notion scripts and curated pinterest boards, spotify playlists and car-ride daydreams. but then, one fateful day, a curious soul on tumblr sent lexi an ask regarding her maze runner reality…. and the floodgates to hell opened all at once. she has now, if i were to guess, gained the reputation as ”that one crazy maze runner lady” on shiftblr. i mean, c’mon… she even has a masterlist.

legend has it that she was obsessed with the franchise as a freshly-turned 15 year old (this, as i’m now about to explain to you, was in her pre-shifting era,, and also deep into her wattpad phase. canon event, i fear). surprisingly, her craze for the trilogy waned right before finding out about shifting at age 16. she had another dr (now archived and covered in dust) for most of her initial shifting journey. but, years later, after she had almost given up on shifting for good: she suddenly remembered, re-watched, fell in love all over again…….and found her way back home, not only to the maze runner, but also to shifting.

when it comes to her tmr dr, lexi is soul-bonded to the crying girl from mean girls (2004); she just wants a cake made out of rainbows and smiles. the emotional attachment she has for her people has made her unable to even hear the word ”canon” being uttered. she is allergic to that word. canon doesn’t exist. it’s not real. it never happened. there’s no proof. shut up huh, what was that? must’ve been the wind……

FANTASY / TERABITIA when she was a little sprout, lexi was emotionally and spiritually destroyed one humid summers day. she had just watched ”bridge to terabithia”, and she was never the same after that. desiring a better ending, and already in love with the chronicles of narnia and the fables told in her childhood, she wanted her own fairytale kingdom… so, she created one. together with her friends she spent her time outside of school in magical play-pretend (was it pretend? or was it a prelude?). but, time goes on and people grow up. she was no longer princess of terabitia anymore. at least not consciously.

now then, she finally found her own wardrobe (reality shifting) to her fantasy kingdom. and this time she won’t grow out of it. seems like the childhood play-pretend truly was a prelude, after all.

MOUNTAIN GETWAY no matter how much she tries, lexi will never be a city girl — her heart forever belongs to nature; far away from the hustle and bustle of the cities, the towering buildings blocking out the sun, and the crowds of stressed-out people. her mountain getaway dr includes everything she loves most: her favourite people, solitude and silence, cozy cabins, mountains, pine tree forests, nearby lakes and rivers, road trips, hiking, and a soft, pressure-free life.

FISHERMAN’S DAUGHTER remember how i said her heart belongs to nature? that includes the ocean. if she could live by the seashore she would (and she will). her fisherman’s daughter dr is an ode to fjords and fishing villages, to the sea and the salt in humid, ocean air. she is, as the name of this dr suggests, the daughter to a fisherman.

MARAUDERS / HOGWARTS when she turned 11, lexi anxiously awaited her hogwarts acceptance letter. it never came, at least not in this reality, and she was horribly disappointed. at 14 she was knees-deep in the marauders trench: tumblr headcanons, fanfiction, you know the deal. now, she would be lying if she said that she had a script for this dr. she doesn’t. not even a pinterest board. that doesn’t stop her from having ideas, however:

she always knew she’d be sorted into ravenclaw. she wants to be an animagus, specifically a parrot/cockatiel one (she relates perhaps a bit too well to them) nicknamed chatty or pompon. and she definitely wants to create mischief with the marauders. perhaps it’s finally time for her to create a script, or at the very least a pin board.

[ previous page <- page ix. -> next page ]

thank you @rrezshifts for the tag!! <33 here are my (no pressure!!) tags for the shifters burn book event: @lolashifts , @salemisha & @lyraxnova !!! (and anyone else who wants to participate !!!!!!)

follow the GUIDE BOOK for help!

[redflaggreenlight]

One of the s3 predictions I’ve got that I HOPE FOR is that In-ho, during his games as player 132, was horrendously betrayed by somebody. I want that to be why he lost his faith in people so hard that it’s the mantra and worldview and reason he wakes up every morning with the incentive to prove Gi-hun wrong in his belief of the good of humans.

Which isn’t even a wholly accurate way to view the way Gi-hun is viewing the world. I don’t think he believes every human is good; I think he just wants to help people whether they’re good or not, because no human being should be put through shit like the games these monstrously rich, bored VIPs conceived.

Gi-hun knows how he viewed the horses as he slapped numbers onto them and screamed for them to run, to go faster, and probably sprayed spit over how slow and useless they were if he didn’t win like he hoped to, as if a living creature wasn't the source of his entertainment and (in a sense) greed. I don’t think Gi-hun was out there actively thinking about the inherent objectification of it, or had targeted internal conflict about it, but I do think it put him in a very specific position of understanding when he realized that was EXACTLY the way the VIPs viewed him and the other players in their games. He probably had his ‘oh shit’ moment so profoundly, and was hit so deeply by it that he felt the obsessive need to stop it, purely because he himself knew how it felt to treat something that way. He knew how it feels to be in the throes of gambling addiction, or close to it, and never stopped to really think about it. But the fact the VIPs are doing that to straight-up human beings, with no transparency in the contract they sign before the first round? Horses are one thing, built to race (tho animal cruelty is a whole other argument here), but humans, how could they fucking do that? These are fathers and daughters and families. Not all of them, but many.

So I don’t really think Gi-hun is the exact opposite of In-ho. Lack of faith in humanity versus no faith in humanity. It’s more of a how far are you willing to go for people despite their inherent flaws versus how quickly will you give up/turn against them because of said flaws. In-ho clearly was the latter, and through what trauma he experienced, gave up thinking anything good could come from trusting the human race to not show they’re a bunch of monsters in the end. Which probably started during his time as a cop, and all the gruesome human behavior you’re exposed to in that profession, followed by how he was treated when he leaned into desperate measures to save the love of his life, then ended with whatever the fuck happened to him in his time as a player in the games.

Was it someone or more than one person he tried to help, got close to, and then somehow they used the last of his good intentions to fuck him clean over? Did they manipulate him into almost losing, or take advantage of his skills and intelligence to move forward while he was left (almost) screwed? Did he form a pact or a bond that someone broke when they realized either they didn't want to do it anymore or that they couldn't do it anymore?

Or was it In-ho discovering he was willing to do all of the above himself, that he was willing to prioritize the life of his wife and child over all other human life and that's what breaks him and digs him deeper into this moral hole he buries himself in? Were his actions what convinced him that yeah, if people have something they believe in, something they love, they're definitely going to go after it no matter what it costs, even if it's the life of another human trying to do a very similar thing. Is that what convinces him that every human is selfish in the end, even when what they're fighting for is something good?

God I'm going to be on the edge of my seat wondering what the hell happened to In-ho. Again, I HOPE for a terrible betrayal of some kind.... one that squeezes the last vestiges of naivety and good-heartedness out of him due to the actions of someone else he couldn't help but trust or care for. Torture the man! Let it have been the Seong Gi-hun experience for him! Cut an even clearer path into his deep obsession with the man Gi-hun is and has so far kept loyal to being! Though if it really is just In-ho leaning into being a natural ‘traitor’ himself, that also seems likely. Maybe not as narratively satisfying, but likely. I'm also scared for Gi-hun losing more of his inherent good for the sake of his 'mission,' though the man has been insanely attached to his empathy so far, so we'll see. He's honestly earned getting to fuck over a deserving person or two.

[atlxolotl]

Transcript and links to Reddit under the Read more:

I miss my husband so goddamn much

February 27th, 2025

I (35M) divorced my husband (36M) three years ago. And God, I miss him. I asked for a divorce for a few reasons, most of which being that his depression got exponentially worse day after day and he refused to seek treatment. Sometimes he wouldn't even go into work and ended up getting fired from his job. I stayed with him for so fucking long, praying that one day he would start trying to get better. It was all I ever wanted, but that day didn't come. I sobbed the entire time signing those papers, and when I handed them to him and asked for a divorce, he just gave me the emptiest, deadest look and signed them without a word. My heart felt like it had been shattered with a hammer, anger and sadness and fear tied together in the world's tightest, ugliest knot and inset deep into my chest.

I put on a brave face for my friends, tried to frame it as shackles coming off and a new beginning, but it was a lie. It just hurt, and it keeps hurting, and it will never stop hurting. He was my soulmate. I'll never love anyone like I loved him. He used to be so sweet and loving, so passionate and happy and every other wonderful thing a man could want from another.

They say each day gets easier, but it isn't for me. It's been three years and I'm still reaching over to the other side of the bed in the morning to pull him close, and it always stings when my hands touch fabric and not his skin. It's been three years and I'm still expecting to see his car in the driveway when I get home from work. It's been three years and my heart isn't any less broken than the day he left.

I've been stalking his socials, I'll admit. He's been getting back to the gym, started meds, and I see him smiling so genuinely in these photos. He looks so incredible. Maybe if I had just waited, he would have changed his mind and went to a doctor like he is now? Or was it me that held him down? Was I making it worse?

I hope not. I wanna go over to his place and just fall into his arms and beg him to take me back. Maybe he's wishing the same thing about me. If there's even a chance I could have my boy back I feel like I should try. I'll never know otherwise.

EDIT: One: I am a homosexual man. My husband is a homosexual man. I am not a woman. Yes, I know I'm effeminate and kind of emotional. Get creative.

Two: my husband was a binge drinker. He refused treatment no matter how much I begged. We got antidepressants but he wouldn't take them. I know he's started meds now because he's posted about them and his 2 yrs sober chip that he got last month.

Three: I never stopped loving him. I never loved him any less. Near the end of our marriage, I started drinking to cope. The second I realized I was, I realized he was dragging me down with him, and I couldn't help him anymore. I didn't dip the second it got hard. Many of you are being kind of rude. I'll accept that I wasn't the perfect husband, nobody is. But claims that I never loved him are just wrong and make me feel sick to my stomach.

EDIT 2: No, I am not the catalyst for this. His depression started when his young brother died terribly and unexpectedly. It's not because he just hated me so much. We were childhood sweethearts and had been together for years when this happened.

[UPDATE] I met my husband that I divorced 3 years ago

March 2nd, 2025

Well, with Reddit's advice, I did it. A few days ago, I called my (35M) ex-husband (36M) whom I divorced after 6 years when he refused to seek treatment for his depression.

I called him later in the evening. It was the first time we'd spoken since a bit of trouble he'd had while he was still drinking 2 1/2 years ago. He picked up on the second ring. Our conversation was a little stilted at first, as to be expected, but he said he was really glad to hear from me. We ended up meeting up for coffee yesterday as so many of you suggested. I'll admit: it was kind of hard to see him, but in a good way? He looked so much better than the last time I had seen him, but he looked exactly like the man I married. He had put off a ton of weight (he gained like 75ish pounds during his struggle with depression, and before some dick says so, I didn't leave him because of his weight gain), he looked way healthier and very put together. I'll just say it: he looked incredibly hot. What made it hard was that I couldn't kiss him hello like I used to. But God, the way his eyes lit up when he saw me, I barely needed to.

We got our coffee and sat, and he updated me a little on his life in the last 3 years.

What really turned his life around was in part the divorce but moreso a DUI (nobody was hurt, he was caught a few blocks from his apartment). He's since gone to rehab and AA, gotten his license back, and had to use a breathalyzer whenever he started his car for a while. He hasn't had a drop of alcohol since and I told him I was so fucking proud of him. He's also started antidepressants, and made a point of telling me that they're not SSRIs, but when I asked what that meant he got embarrassed and told me nevermind (???). Bottom line is that they've been helping him, he's back to being a gym rat, and he's almost completely turned his life around. This was around the point I started tearing up. It just felt so good knowing he was okay. Better than okay, he was *good*.

I also apologized to him for not sticking by him. He cut me off and said I had nothing to apologize for. He was a wreck, and I was being dragged down with him. That also felt good to hear. I apologized for not contacting him much during the last 3 years. That apology, he accepted.

He was dating someone for a few months, too. He broke up with him once he tried to get him to drink on New Year's. He seemed dismissive of the guy. Guess it wasn't too serious.

We got up and went on a walk after a few hours, and I think we both realized it felt like a first date. I had to stop myself from trying to hold his hand at a few points, I'll admit. We ended up sitting on a bench in a nearby park, and I confessed.

I told him I missed him more than anything, how I never stopped loving him, and how if he wanted to, I'd love to try again from the beginning this time. We'd go to couples' therapy, keep our heads above the water, and take it slow. He was quiet for a minute before he told me something. He said he was doing better now, but there may be a time where he sunk low again. Depression isn't easily cured, and he was far from cured. He still had bad days, but he said there would be one difference: he promised he would never stop trying to improve. He was never going to give up like he did before, and refused to neglect me like he used to. If I was willing to accept that truth, he was willing to try again. I agreed, and he pulled me into an embrace and snuck a kiss to my temple. You know when it's the first warm day of spring after a cold, harsh winter, and the soft breeze and basking sun hit your skin at the same time? It felt something like that, to the 1000th degree. After a while he walked me back to my car and squeezed my hand goodbye, and the second I got inside I started sobbing like a baby. Happy tears, though.

I'm currently sitting in bed, kicking my feet like a teenage girl, texting him back and forth to schedule an actual date. He said he'd plan everything, and try his best to make up for the birthdays and anniversaries he missed. He said it would "knock my socks off." What a dork. I love being in love. Not gonna lie, this is gonna be a bit hard to explain to my friends and family. Not looking forward to those conversations, but right now I don't care. My man loves me.

Thank you to everyone who had kind words to say, and all the people that messaged me with sympathy and advice. I hope we all find happiness, and love if we want it. I never would have made the leap if y'all hadn't encouraged me. Best of luck to all of you, and sorry for the overly flowery language <3

EDIT: we've scheduled a date for tomorrow evening. I'll let people know how it went two days from now in my final (unless something big happens) update.

EDIT 2: at his place presently. Shame me not, reddit.

[FINAL UPDATE] I went on a date with my ex-husband last night

March 5th, 2025

My (35M) ex-husband (36M) and I recently reconnected. I won't go over the details of why we split or our reconciliation since I'm sure the average redditor can click buttons and most likely read. He was the one taking me out, and promised that it would, in his words, "knock my socks off" to make up for his neglect of me. He sure as hell delivered.

A little backstory, we've been together since we were 15 and 16 respectively, and have never moved out of our hometown. This year would have been our 20th anniversary (of getting together, not marriage). We were dating secretly for about five years before our parents caught us one day during summer break. The fallout from finding out their son was gay actually made his parents split. His dad wanted to send him away to conversion therapy. He's seen his father maybe once per year on average, and every time he's incredibly cold towards me. Would never refer to me as his son-in-law, only my husband's "pal." I wonder why. Anyway, not what you're here to read. I'll get on with the lore.

He picked me up from the house and wouldn't tell me where we were going, but told me to dress warmly. He ended up taking me to the place where we met: a run down ice skating rink in our town. He used to do hockey, and I spent some time trying to learn figure skating until people started beating me up for it. Both sports would practice at the same time and I remember barely being able to keep my eyes off him. We went skating, I tried to pull off a few of the moves I remembered (he only had to catch me from falling on my ass once or twice, and I won't complain about an attractive man that I love hooking his arm around my waist), and we spent an hour or so there until our feet hurt. At one point I said that my face was getting cold, so he skated around in front of me and placed his gloved hands on my cheeks to warm me up. I just about burned a hole in the ice from how hard I was blushing, I swear to God.

He wasn't done then. We left and went to dinner, specifically the restaurant where we had our first date. It's a cheap hole-in-the-wall place, seeing as we were poor teenagers when we first met. We chatted and ate food that probably took 5 years off our lives, he was an incorrigible flirt, and even held my hand underneath the table like he did all those years ago. I know I said I never stopped loving him, and I stand by that, but I think I somehow fell in love with him a thousand times over again during that meal.

At the end of dinner, he asked if I had energy for one more simple thing, to which I agreed. He took me a while out of town to a dark sky zone park, specifically the one where he proposed to me ten years ago. He set out a blanket to sit on and another to cuddle under, and we went stargazing all bundled up together. You never know how much you miss the sound of someone's heartbeat until you haven't heard it for so long. We shared a bottle of sparkling grape juice in plastic champagne flutes and dumb, giggly kisses. It felt so similar yet so different. He told me in a moment of quiet that he loved me, and oh, God. It took everything I had not to cry. I barely hesitated before asking if he wanted to change venues. He seemed surprised, but eagerly accepted.

I ended up at his place, as some of you may have seen from my edit on my second post yesterday. I wanted to take it slower than this, but it was so hard to. I was so starved of affection and hadn't been intimate with anyone for just about six years. I'm gonna keep what happened at his between us, but all I'll say is that his medication was no issue and all of you should be jealous. I woke up in his bed this morning, reached over for him, and pulled him close just like I used to do. I haven't been this happy in a long time. We had a sleepy discussion and decided to get back together, but we're not using the term boyfriends. It just feels weird after all this time. So he's my partner, or my lover. He's mine.

Thank you, reddit. Wouldn't have done it without a little push from the internet. Let's see where all this goes.

[madamechrissy]

Escort! Satoru- part one

Pairings- Escort Satoru Gojo x shy CEO F! reader

Warnings- eventually explicit sex, freaky but fluffy- this part- obsessed ass/whipped ass Gojo, mentions of sex, Satoru jerking off, whimpering (bc ofc) he becomes a little Yan tbh, Satoru half ass pleasing a client but he can't get you off his mind hehe, pretty woman vibes 🤭

Finished <3

Part two>>>

Escort! Satoru who doesn't just sleep with any client, no he's picky certainly, he gets to be at this caliber, of the most notorious escort there is. Some women he'll help get off with his fingers, some he'll only let suck his cock deep in their throat, some very lucky ones he'll actually fuck, bent over crying out his name. No matter what however, they were always pleased, he has the best rating there even is on his site.

Escort! Satoru only takes jobs and clients that he feels like, he's the most popular person on this app, highly requested, he can browse who he's meeting before hand. And if he absolutely can't stand them, perhaps that - gasp - hate Digimon!? - he keeps it to just the date, a polite fake smile on his perfect features, baby blues hidden behind his dark round shades.

Escort! Satoru gets a notification, lounging around in his penthouse, yes Gojo is rich from this career, but he enjoys the thrill of this even more, and he enjoys putting a smile on a pretty girls face, giving them pleasure when they may have never had any. His dick is just too pretty not to share with the world, truly. - That may seem conceited but it's really just factual! - He peers at the notification then, blinking quickly as the picture, so gorgeous he's damn near blushing just from seeing your face, your bare shoulders in a slinky dress, fuck since when does he get half hard looking at collarbones!?

Escort! Satoru is already throbbing and hard the longer he stares at your picture, your shy and sweet little message on there with it - 'I have never done anything like this... but with work, I have no time for anything, and... I really need a handsome date to this charity ball. Could you please come with, I will gladly pay you extra to spend some time before so we can have our story together' Satoru blinks a bit, full lips pursing, beginning to type back. 'You buying lunch?' He smirks as you laugh react to his comment. 'I'm buying lunch'

Escort! Satoru doesn't date in real life, he's merely arm candy for many women, but when he sits across from you at the outdoor diner, and you smile shyly, his heart fucking stops. He's been with so many beautiful people, but nothing has made him feel whatever this is. 'Hey there!' you introduce yourself, and he can't stop staring at your lips as they move, you have a pretty red color adorning them, he tries to focus but his brain is short circuiting. 'Satoru...' he says, taking your much smaller hand in his own, staring at you behind Gucci shades. He never lets dates call him that, he prefers Gojo of course, but when you repeat 'Satoru' in that sexy voice, he's ended.

Escort! Satoru forgets what time even is, while you pour over some details of your life with him, he's never been more interested actually in how you played the flute. Tell him it all. That you like Pokemon- Digimon is better but- close enough, tell him about your collection. He can't get enough, you all spend so much time talking the sun is starting to set. 'Oh no, we should go! I'm keeping you-' Satoru lowers those shades, his bright blue eyes drinking you in, making you falter as they trail across your body ever so slowly, making you heat up, remembering his profession. 'you're not keeping me, but one question, sweets' he leans forward, so close now, brushing back a lock of your hair. 'why would you go to an escort agency, is it just for the date? or more?'

Escort! Satoru loves watching the blush dance on your skin, the glittering of your eyes when he pulls back, thumb brushing your heated cheek just so, feeling it's warmth. 'It's just for the date, I read your reviews, they're insane...' he grins now, brushing back silvery locks. 'read which reviews?' you heat up further, fiddling with your fingers just a bit. 'If it went that way, it'd be the first time in years for me' Satoru blinks in shock. 'how?' You sigh, sipping the rest of your drink down through your straw. 'work plus being a homebody nerd, well... I never meet people or have time' ah, Satoru could make you cum so hard you wouldn't be able to form words, but he takes a sip of his own drink, saying casually- 'and you never... want to?'

Escort! Satoru thinks you're so cute when your teeth catch your lower lip, and your lashes flutter. 'of course but that's not why I hired you, I really do need a perfect date, though... your looks may have swayed me' he chuckles a bit now. 'So shallow!' you scoff, as the two of you get ready to leave. 'Do you have a suit or do you need me to buy one?' Gojo smirks at you. 'I have so many suits, and tuxedos, don't worry' 'ah you come prepared I see' he hums just a bit, walking you to your car, far too close when he leans over you just a bit, inhaling the sweet scent of you. 'I'm prepared for whatever you need, sweets, anything at all' at his connotation he watches you get more flustered, giggling a bit, feeling so stupid next to a guy like this, but he just finds you the cutest thing he's ever seen.

Escort! Satoru can't take how much you're sinking into his mind the passing days, the charity ball is in a week, but the two of you constantly text for 'practice' but he becomes more and more enamored, you're smart, sweet, and oh so fucking pretty. When you send him a selfie before he goes on a date with a client, he can hardly take it, you're in your business suit, nothing sexy- but it drives him to distraction, your pretty lips he can picture around him. Satoru can hardly focus when he's supposed to be pleasing this girl, his fingers usually so sure aren't hitting her spots, because now he can only think of you.

Escort! Satoru cannot have a bad review, oh no, he decides to excuse himself from the pretty girl on her bed, going to the bathroom to stare at this picture of you. beautiful, can I see more? when you read that you nervously shut the door to your sky rise office, unbuttoning just a bit of your blouse, tummy clenching when he hearts the message, you know you shouldn't get so excited, you're paying him after all. He's likely with a woman constantly, you see the sheer amount of reviews, but you can't help yourself, you find him entirely too charming, it's easy to forget this is just for business. For every salacious review, there were others- sweet, funny, made me feel pretty- and that's what really drew you in.

Escort! Satoru after he recieves that sexy little picture, instead of going into the room with the eager girl waiting, is instead stroking his long, pretty cock, head falling back against the door, while you nervously button your blouse back up, imagination going insane. You weren't against sleeping with someone casually, but for money would it mean... he didn't want to? The thought eats at you while Satoru's dripping precum over his phone, right on that picture, whispering your name ever so softly, forgetting where he was and shit, who he was, he can practically see those nipples under your blouse, dying to know what they taste like.

Escort! Satoru may have had sex before with the client surely, he loves a beautiful woman, before he met you. But now you're constantly on his mind. Even with his cock so hard and ready, when he's back to kissing on her and playing with her, he can't do more, frustrating him to no end. He has her squirting down his hand with the way his practiced fingers know how to hit every woman's spot, she's dripping down to his wrists, even. When he finishes, she looks up at him, all fucked out, trying to kiss him, but that's Satoru's biggest rule, never, ever kiss on the lips. He turns his head. 'sorry sweetheart I don't do that'

Escort! Satoru takes his extra money, he made bank tonight, but the entire time he had his fingers curling inside a slick, eager hole, he was picturing them deep inside you, watching as you cum for him. You'd probably sound and look so pretty, wouldn't you? As you're shooting him a good night text- who even has ever sent him one? - you're back on his mind, still aching from earlier. Turning down blowjobs is not something Escort Satoru does, but he did, and now he's throbbing when he rubs himself over his boxers, whimpering just a bit, pulling the picture back out and working his hand up and down his shaft, as it's aching to fill you

Escort! Satoru has a notification from one of his regulars pop up on the phone, right above that picture he can't stop staring at, while his cock is sticky from his spit and precum, loud in his opulent bedroom, the sound of it lewd along with his heavy, husky breaths. He's picturing just what you'd look like on your knees, with those innocent eyes, maybe he'd tear that business suit off your body, and paint every pretty inch of it with his ropes of cum, until you were just covered in white. The thought alone makes him decline the request, shutting his eyes and picturing just that as his spurts of white cum pour down his hand.

Escort! Satoru whimpers when he touches his sensitive tip, murmuring your name, trying to come down. He finds himself cleaning himself up and staring at the mirror, wondering just what the fuck you've done to him already. Surely it's... something new or different, it can't be more right? He hovers over choosing the date, or messaging you good night, and finds himself texting you with a dumb little 🥺, smiling like a lovesick fool when you send this to him-'can't wait for our 'date' it'll be fun! 😍- and Satoru's getting hard again from a fucking emoji.

[pedroscurls]

let me show you (one-shot)

summary: joel comes home and shows you (and mainly himself) that age is nothing but a number.

pairing: no outbreak!joel miller x fem!reader content warnings: EXPLICIT CONTENT (18+ ONLY MDNI), established relationship, age gap (joel's in his 50s, reader's 30), unprotected p in v (be safe folks!), oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering, mating press (i feel like this is joel's go-to), doggystyle, cowgirl, multiple creampies (oops), light manhandling, light marking, no use of y/n. word count: 5.5k a/n: so happy to take part at @yxtkiwiyxt's other "never have i ever" challenge for her one year writing anniversary!!! congrats on one year, kiwi - you're such a talented writer that it's so crazy to me that you've only been writing one year! can't wait to see what other stories you create - you got a lifelong fan in me and i'll read everything and everything you write 🫶. i chose joel miller and got the prompt: never have i ever had sex more than 3 times in one night. this is just complete filth, so please heed the warnings and most of all, enjoy <3

The entire drive home, Joel is seething. Hands gripping the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles turn white. Jaw clenching so hard that he’s sure he’ll end up cracking a tooth or two. He isn’t even sure why he’s so angry, why some other man’s words have such an effect on him. 

“Aren’t you old enough to be her father?” 

The frustration radiates through his entire body, tense and tight. The age gap had been something he was wary of in the beginning, but you had always been the one to reassure him that age didn’t matter to you. He tries to hold onto what you would tell him—how safe he makes you feel, the way being in his arms brings you comfort. 

“Aren’t you old enough to be her father?” 

He had fired that man the moment it left his lips. Tommy had to hold Joel back, and could see the way his older brother’s eyes darkened with rage. His personal life was off limits. You were off limits. After firing him, Tommy had convinced Joel to go home, that he needed the rest of the day to just cool off. 

And now, as he pulls into the driveway, Joel can’t help but hear those man’s words echo in his mind. 

“Aren’t you old enough to be her father?” 

He climbs out of his truck and storms inside. He knows you’re already home, knows that you’re probably deep in papers that need grading, knows that you’re going to be surprised to see him home so early… 

But Joel is determined—he’s suddenly on a mission to prove to himself that age is nothing but a number. 

He drops his keys in the bowl near the door, kicks off his boots and walks upstairs to your office. The door is slightly ajar and he gently kicks it open with his foot. You look up at him and the look of surprise flashes across your face before a large grin lines your lips. 

“You’re home,” you set your pen down and stand up from your chair. “Everything okay at work?” 

Joel just grunts in response, takes three large strides in your direction before he’s standing in front of you. “Need you,” he growls, his hand coming up to brush your hair away from your face and past your shoulder. He leans in, presses a soft kiss on your jawline and down the side of your neck. 

“Joel,” you whimper, moving your hands to rest on his hips. “Baby, hold on—What happened?” 

“Nothin’,” he mumbles, teeth grazing your pulse point. He hears you let out a whimper and it only fuels him further. Only he could pull those sounds out of you. Age gap, be damned. 

You try to push him away to figure out what’s truly going on, but he just wraps his arms around your frame and pulls you flush against him. Joel turns you so you’re leaning against the edge of your desk, your hands moving to his broad chest. 

“Joel—”

He pulls back and looks into your eyes. You can visibly see that there’s something bothering him. His gaze is dark, brows slightly furrowed, eyes narrowed, and jaw clenched. “Think you can stop grading for one afternoon, baby?” 

“Can you first tell me what’s going on?”

“Nothin’ goin’ on,” he lies, hoisting you up onto the edge of your desk. Joel immediately moves your legs apart as he steps in to stand between them. Slowly, his hands move along your thighs, gaze moving along your frame. There’s a hunger in his eyes, clear determination that you can’t put your finger on. 

“You’re lying. You’re a terrible liar, you know that?” 

Joel grunts and moves a hand to your cheek, thumb brushing lightly along your soft skin. “Just wanted to get home to be with my girl, that a bad thing?” 

“Not at all,” you answer. “But something’s clearly bothering you and—”

“Ain’t nothin’ botherin’ me, darlin’,” he interrupts. “Now, can you stop talkin’ so I can kiss you, hm?” 

“Me talking never stopped you before–”

Joel grunts in reply and leans in to press his lips firmly against your own. Immediately, your hands card through his hair, gasping when you feel the urgency of the kiss. His hands roam your body, already sliding them underneath your shirt. The way his lips move against yours—hurried and desperate—catches you off guard and you’re finding it incredibly difficult to keep up. You part your lips, slowly trying to pull away from him to truly get to the root cause for his sudden behavior, but he doesn’t let you. 

Instead, his large hands grip your hips, tug you to the edge of your desk so that his jean-covered bulge presses firmly to your already throbbing core. Joel’s lips move effortlessly against your own, tongue darting out to flick against your own. You whimper against him and he growls in response, pulling back only slightly to nibble on your lower lip—this action alone causes your legs to wrap around his waist and pull him even further into you. 

“Joel,” you mumble breathlessly, gently tugging on his hair to pull back from him. You’re breathing heavy, lips swollen, eyes dark when you finally look at him. 

“Gonna spend the rest of night showing you how much I love you,” he promises, rolling his hips against you. 

“Baby,” you moan out quietly. “You always show me how much you love me.”

“Hm,” he answers. “Not enough. Never enough.” 

“Are you sure you’re okay? Nothing happened at work?” 

Joel shakes his head once. “No, now can we stop talkin’ about work?” 

You nod and slowly move away from the desk to stand in front of him. You take his hand, play with his fingers before lacing them together with your own. “So, just me and you tonight?” 

Joel nods, “just me and you, baby.” He stares at you for a moment and all of a sudden, the man’s words from earlier comes back—serving as a reminder of why he had been upset in the first place. 

He releases your hand and tosses you over his shoulder. Joel hears you let out a quiet gasp of surprise, but he begins making his way out of your office and down the hall to the bedroom. It doesn’t take him long, but he can feel the strain in the center of his jeans when your hands begin to roam his body. 

Once inside the room, he tosses you onto the mattress. You prop yourself up on your forearms, but Joel—once again—tugs you to the edge of the bed. He wastes no time in hooking his fingers into the waistband of your shorts and pulling them down your legs with your panties, tossing the articles of clothing carelessly to the side. 

“Fuck,” he whispers to himself. He parts your legs and licks his lips eagerly, your sex glistening with your own arousal. 

Joel reaches down to undo his belt, followed by his zipper and button on his jeans. He pushes them down his legs, kicks them off to the side, and reaches for the ends of his shirt to lift over his head. Now clad in only his boxer briefs, Joel watches you remove your shirt as well, lying back on your forearms once you’re completely bare and naked for him. 

He reaches down and squeezes the length of himself, hardening even further at his touch. Joel leans over you, hand pressed on the mattress near your head as his free hand comes to settle between your legs. His fingers begin to make quick work, gathering your arousal on his fingertips as he teases your opening. 

“Always this wet for me, aren’t ya?” He whispers, leaning down so that his lips hover near your ear. Joel hears you let out a gasp when he slides in the tip of his middle finger—your walls welcoming him almost immediately. 

“J—Joel,” you moan, eyes fluttering. Joel slides his middle finger further into your depths, down to his knuckle, before he pulls it out completely. His entire digit is glistening and he brings it up to his lips, licking and sucking your arousal off his finger. 

“Christ,” he groans. “Can never get enough of you.” Then, Joel settles onto his knees in between your legs. He presses soft and light kisses on your inner thigh, gently nipping along the way. Though, once his lips hover near where you need him the most, he lets out the most animalistic growl you’ve ever heard. 

You sit up on your forearms, eyes glazing over and beginning to flutter when you feel him lick a stripe along the length of your sex. He keeps his eyes solely focused on you, one hand moving up your body to push you to lie back down. 

“Just relax,” he whispers. “I got you, baby. Always got you.” 

You finally fall onto your back when his lips move towards your clit, tongue flicking against you repeatedly. Your hands move to his hair immediately, pulling and tugging as he applies more pressure. 

Joel knows he could do this for the rest of his life if he could. He ruts against the mattress—your sweet taste only fueling him further. He grunts against you when you pull and tug on his hair and he can feel your arousal drip down his chin. He moves his hands to your legs, holding them apart as he pulls back to look down at you. 

“Look at you,” he says with a low groan. “Lyin’ there lookin’ so pretty.” Joel doesn’t let you get a word in because he leans back down, grips your thighs, and moves his lips to your sex. 

Your back arches—the burn of his beard scratching against your inner thighs, the way his tongue expertly moves in and out of you. A loud moan escapes your lips when you feel his thumb slowly begin to rub circles into your clit. You know you’re close, can feel the pressure building and building. When your eyes lock with Joel’s, you see the corners of his lips lift—the man is fucking grinning. 

He pulls away, but before you can whine in protest, he slides two fingers past your folds. Your hands move from his hair to the sheets, gripping it tightly as you feel him expertly begin to move his fingers in and out of your depths. You’re so wet, the sounds of his fingers squelching with each thrust into you mixes in with your moans. Joel knows—he always knows when you’re close. 

As he pumps his fingers in and out of you, Joel leans down and latches his lips around your clit. It’s just what you need to be pushed over the edge. 

Your back arches in the air, legs attempting to close and squeeze around his head—unintentionally—as your body trembles with pleasure. He slows his movements, pulling back and away from you. His fingers easily slide out of you—your arousal already staining the sheets of the mattress. 

You’re breathing heavily when you finally look in his direction. You can see your arousal glistening on his chin, over his beard. You watch him push his boxers down, his manhood springing at attention. Clearing your throat, you slowly turn on to your abdomen as he stands upright. Before he could even say anything, you reach out and wrap your hands gently around the base of his length.

You glance up at him—there’s just something in the way he’s standing above you that causes a shiver to run through you. He reaches down, gently pushes your hair away from your face, thumb brushing against your jawline. 

“So pretty, baby,” he whispers. His eyes flutter for a moment when you slowly begin to stroke the base of his manhood. When you lean forward to wrap your lips around his tip, Joel moves his hand from your cheek to the back of your head as a low groan escapes his lips. 

You hum in approval, feeling his hand slowly push your head down against him. You get the hint—moving one hand from his base to rest on his hip as you take more of him into your mouth. Your tongue swirls around him as your other hand strokes what your mouth can’t take. 

When you glance up at him, Joel’s head is tilted back—neck outstretched, veins more prominent, broad chest heaving up and down, and his lower lip pulled between his teeth. He always looked so beautiful like this. 

Suddenly, you feel his fingers curl into your hair and pull you away from his slickened length—it glistens with your saliva. 

You whine in protest, trying to lean forward to wrap your lips back around his throbbing manhood, but he clicks his tongue and holds you away from him. 

“Not gonna last if you keep that up,” he admits honestly. “And tonight, I want you as many times as I can.” 

“Joel,” you bite your lower lip, hands moving up his chest. “Once is enough and—”

He shakes his head and pushes you onto your back. His strong arm wraps around your waist and slides you further up onto the mattress as he settles himself between your legs. Joel stares into your eyes and with his free hand, grasps his length to run his tip along the length of your sex. He gathers your arousal around his tip, growling lowly to himself as he notches himself at your entrance. 

“Not tonight it isn’t,” he finally answers, pushing fully into you in one long and deep stroke. Joel groans when your walls envelope him—warm, wet, tight. He always loves it when he thrusts into you for the first time because it serves as a reminder of how perfectly you were made for him. He sees the way your face contorts into pleasure—mouth slightly agape and brows furrowed with a quiet whimper escaping your lips; he finds it so cute how you always try to hold back your sounds of pleasure. 

“J—Joel,” you moan, hands moving to come up to rest on his broad shoulders. 

Something in him snaps and there’s a primal urge that courses through his veins as he stares down at you. Joel takes your hands from his shoulders, gently placing a soft kiss on your knuckles, before he grabs your legs and places them over his shoulders instead. At the new position, he feels himself slide further into your depths and it only urges him further. He pushes into you, his own hands resting at either side of you as he pulls out to his tip only to thrust back into you. 

You’re folded in half—body beginning to tremble already as he picks up the pace in his thrusts. You had a very healthy sex life with Joel, but this time… this time it feels so different. It feels like he’s on a mission to prove something to himself. 

The sound of his skin smacking against yours echo the walls of the bedroom, your moans increasingly becoming louder and louder. Your hands move to his lower abdomen in an attempt to push him away because you feel the pressure creep up once more. He growls in response and grabs your wrists, pinning them above your head. 

“Close huh, baby?,” he growls.

“Joel, p—please,” you whimper, toes curling. You can’t move—hands pressed into the mattress, legs thrown over his shoulders, and his entire body pressing into you. It’s by far the most intimate position you’ve ever experienced and the way he’s slamming into you pushes you over the edge. 

“Joel!” You moan loudly, walls already clenching around him as your body trembles once another orgasm takes over your entire frame. 

“Fuck,” Joel groans, releasing your wrists to rest his own large hands on your hips. His own thrusts begin to falter as he feels his release begin to creep up quickly. He tries to think of something else, tries to make this last longer, but the way you’re tightening around him just pushes him over. 

He slams into you once, twice, three times before he releases into you. Joel lets out a guttural groan, the hands on your hips tightening its grip as he slowly rolls his hips into you. Slowly, Joel moves your legs from his shoulders to instead wrap around his waist loosely and he looks down between your bodies to see his spend trickling out of you once he pulls out. 

You’re breathing heavily, staring up at him with a dazed look on your face. You gently reach up to touch his cheek, feel him lean into the pit of your palm as he stares deeply into your eyes. “Where did that come from?”

Joel shrugs and gently pecks your lips. “Just wanted you, baby.” Slowly, he pulls away from you and stands from the bed to grab a wet and warm towel to wipe his release from between your legs. He watches you shiver against his touch, eyes fluttering when the towel brushes against your most sensitive areas and he smirks. 

“Joel,” you whimper. 

“Sorry,” he grins proudly. Once you’re cleaned up, he sets the towel in the laundry basket and then falls back onto the bed with you. You lie on your side and he comes up behind you, arm draped over your midsection as he brings you flush against him. He peppers light kisses along the back of your bare shoulder. “Love you,” he whispers. 

“I love you too,” you tilt your head back against his shoulder and shut your eyes. “Made me tired,” you whisper, voice trailing off. “Didn’t even have dinner yet.”

He chuckles and shuts his eyes, holding you close. “How about we take a short nap and then I’ll feed you, hm? That sound like a plan?”

“Yes,” you reply with a small smile, turning your head just enough to press a soft kiss onto his cheek. “Maybe you should come home early more often,” you giggle.

Joel’s jaw tightens as the man’s words echo in his mind again. He doesn’t reply—just holds you closer to him and feels you relax in his embrace. 

Joel awakes almost an hour later—you’re still leaning back against him and his arm is still wrapped around you from behind. He can hear your quiet breathing, takes a peek in your direction to see you peacefully asleep. He feels you shift back against him and he’s suddenly aware of the lack of clothing that you both are wearing. 

His mind drifts momentarily, remembering the events that unfolded just an hour ago. He can still feel the anger bubbling within him, can still hear that man’s voice echo in his mind.

“Aren’t you old enough to be her father?” 

His arm remains draped over your waist and his large hand soon encompasses your breast, thumb brushing against your nipple. He hears you let out a quiet moan and Joel can feel his lower half begin to stir. He’s surprised that after an hour, he can feel himself getting hard all over again.

Slowly, Joel presses himself firmly against you from behind and moves his lips along the side of your neck. As he begins to pepper light kisses on your skin, his hand begins to massage your breast into the pit of his palm. He hears your breathing quicken and quietly—in that sweet voice of yours—you say his name. 

“Joel,” you whimper. 

“Shh,” he whispers, teeth grazing your earlobe. Joel releases his hold on you and gently moves you to lie on your abdomen. He quickly moves to hover above you, his legs placed on either side of you. His large hands move to your backside, spreading your cheeks apart as he lets out a low growl at the sight of you. “Can’t get enough of you,” Joel growls. 

He grasps his hardening length, tugs on it twice before he presses his tip into your slit. Slowly, Joel pushes his hips forward—you’re already so wet and gripping the head of manhood as he pushes himself further into you. 

Your hand reaches back for him, trying to press against his lower abdomen to stop him from pushing any further. You’re already so sensitive—walls quivering as he grabs both your wrists to hold against your lower back. With one stroke, Joel fills you to the brim and he feels you begin to squirm against him.

“Joel!” you exclaim, eyes falling shut as you press your forehead against the mattress. He feels so much bigger like this and when he pulls his hips back—your walls sliding along his length—only to slide back into you, it causes a loud moan to escape your lips. 

“H—-how?” you mumble, feeling his hand release your wrists only to grip your hips, pulling you to prop yourself up on all fours. 

Joel doesn’t reply, the man’s words echoing in his mind with each thrust.

“Aren’t you old enough to be her father?” — thrust.

“Aren’t you old enough to be her father?” — thrust.

“Aren’t you old enough to be her father?” — thrust.

Your hands grip the sheets so tight because Joel’s never been this rough before. With each thrust, Joel’s jaw tightens. He grips the back of your neck and pushes you face down onto the mattress as he slams into you repeatedly from behind. His skin slaps against your own and you can feel the tight grip he has around your hips—knowing that there’s going to be bruises there later. 

“J—Joel!” you moan into the mattress, pushing back against him as you feel yourself begin to reach yet another orgasm. Your walls begin to tremble, can feel a rush of wetness between your legs and the pleasure racking through your entire body. 

“Fuck,” he finally moans—your walls tightening around his length in a tight grip. Joel leans over you, hand moving from the back of your neck to grab a fistful of your hair to lift your head off the mattress. He breathes heavily into your ear as his thrusts begin to falter. “Come for me,” he demands, thrusting into you that your body jerks forward. 

“I—I can’t,” you whimper. Your entire body is on fire and you’re so close to the edge, but you’re holding back… and Joel knows because his eyes narrow at your words and he leans down to gently bite down on the side of your neck.

“I said,” he groans, delivering yet another hard thrust. “Come for me.” 

With his free hand, Joel reaches down and begins to circle your clit. It’s just the right amount of pressure for you to reach your peak. Your toes curl and your eyes shut tight as a loud moan escapes your lips. Joel smirks proudly, releasing his hold on your hair as he grips your hip instead. 

Joel delivers one, two, three thrusts before he releases into you. His eyes fall shut, head tilted back as he tries to catch his breath, slowing his thrusts as your walls continue to milk every last drop. When he finally pulls out, Joel opens his eyes to watch his release slowly drip out of you and onto your inner thighs. 

He bites his lower lip and falls back onto the bed next to you, lying on his back as he glances over at you. 

“Well,” you whisper, looking over at him. “That was something.”

“I wasn’t too rough, was I?” he asks with soft eyes—his big, brown, puppy eyes staring at you with concern now that his mind is clear. 

“Would you hate me if I said it wasn’t enough?” you tease, leaning over to peck his lips. “You promised me food and instead…”

“You were just so…” Joel bites his lower lip, his gaze raking over your frame with lust-filled eyes. “Inviting.” 

“Maybe I should sleep naked more often,” you grin, standing up from the bed to walk towards the bathroom to clean yourself up. 

“If you do that, ain’t nothin’ gonna get done,” he chuckles. Joel stands up as well, walking after you as he wraps his arms around you from behind. “What does my girl want to eat?” 

“Can you order a pizza?” you smile, wiping his release from between your legs. You toss the tissue into the trash and then lean back against him, head resting against his chest. 

“Of course, baby,” he smiles, turning his head to kiss your temple. 

You take note of the marks on your hips and the darkening spot on the side of your neck. You bite your lower lip and slowly turn in Joel’s arms, staring up at him as your arms wrap around his neck. “Gonna have these marks on me for a few days at least.”

Joel arches a brow, eyes glancing down at the mark on your neck before his gaze lowers to your hips. He blushes and rests his forehead against your own. “Sorry, baby.” 

“Don’t be,” you smile, hands playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “I like it.”

“Yeah?” he asks, small smile lining his lips. 

“Yeah,” you nod. “I’m all yours, so let’s let the entire world know,” you tease. 

“Naughty,” Joel chuckles. 

“Only for you.”

Joel growls, hand moving to grasp your backside. “I like the sound of that.” 

“Mmm,” you smile. “I don’t think I can go another round,” you say honestly. “I’m sensitive all over and I’m hungry.”

Joel leans in, pecks your lips lightly as he pulls away slowly. “Maybe you just need some food because I am determined to have you one more time before we call it a night.”

“One more time?” you ask, eyes widening. “We’ve already had sex twice in the last hour or so and—”

“Then we’ll eat dinner and I’ll have you again,” Joel interrupts with a grin. “Don’t put anythin’ on. I’ll have pizza delivered.”

“You want me to walk around like this?” 

“Yes,” Joel growls. 

“Yes, sir,” you smile innocently. 

About thirty minutes later, you and Joel are in the kitchen with an opened box of pizza. He’s dressed only in a pair of boxers, but you’re completely naked—just like he said you should be. You’re sitting on the edge of the kitchen island with a slice of pizza in hand, humming contentedly as you take a bite. 

“Good?” Joel asks with a grin, his own slice of pizza in his hand. 

“Very,” you smile, finishing your first slice of pizza in record time. You see Joel arch a brow and you just roll your eyes playfully. “I gained an appetite.”

Joel chuckles to himself and moves to stand between your legs. “You did, huh? Why’s that?” 

“I came like three times already, baby,” you tell him, reaching for another slice of pizza. “I really don’t think I can do any more than that. I’m already—My body’s just so sensitive.” 

“Oh?” he asks, eyes looking at you from top to bottom. He moves his hands to your thighs and gently spreads them apart, looking between your legs to see your sex glistening. “How come you’re wet then, hm?” 

“Joel…” you whisper, setting the slice of pizza down as you wipe your hands with a paper towel. “I’m just—I’m always wet whenever I’m around you.”

“That so?” 

You nod, feeling his finger run along the length of your sex, gathering your arousal. You let out a quiet whimper, a shiver running down your body at the sensation. “Joel, baby…” 

“Always so ready for me, ain’t you?”

You nod, biting your lower lip. “Joel,” you repeat. “I—If we have sex one more time, I won’t last long and—”

“Shh,” he interrupts. “Let me just take care of you, baby.” Joel lifts you off the counter and sets you down onto your feet. He leads you to the couch in the living room where he takes a seat and shimmies out of his boxers, kicking them carelessly off to the side. He can already feel himself getting hard as he grasps his length and begins to stroke himself to full mast. “Come on, baby,” he urges, pointing to his lap with his chin. 

You nod and straddle his lap as your hands move to his shoulders. You slowly lower your hips to feel the tip of his manhood brush against you. Gasping, you lift your hips and stare into his eyes. Joel’s gaze darkens and he moves a hand to your hip, gripping it tightly as he pushes you onto him. Your walls—so wet—encompasses him tightly and he tilts his head back against the couch, a low groan escaping his lips. 

Joel feels so deep like this and you begin to roll your hips forward and backward. The hair at his base brushes against your clit and your body begins to tremble already. Your hips move so slowly because that’s all you can take right now, but Joel… It’s not enough for him. Even with your fingernails digging into his shoulders, gripping it so tight, Joel needs more. 

He moves his hands underneath you and lifts you slightly off his lap—just enough to give him space to begin thrusting upwards. Joel growls to himself as he looks up at you, your breasts bouncing as he thrusts upwards. 

“Joel!” you moan loudly, wrapping your arms around him as you press your front against him—holding onto him tightly. “Baby, please…”

“You feel so good around me, baby,” Joel whispers into your hair, eyes falling shut. “Always so wet for me, always so tight… Fuck, you were made for me.”

“J—Joel,” you whimper, feeling his hands move to your hips instead as you roll your hips against his own. You keep your tight hold onto him, gasping quietly as you feel your walls begin to tremble yet again. 

“Yes,” he groans, arms wrapping around your waist to guide you forward and backward on his lap. Joel knows he won’t be able to last either—he’s surprised that he was even able to recover so quickly in the span of two hours to do this three times. 

“Love seein’ you like this,” he says quietly, feeling your arms unwrap itself around his shoulders. Joel feels your hands move to rest on his shoulders as you ride him like your life depended on it. “Fuckin’ beautiful,” he grins, eyes scanning your face before his gaze lowers to your naked frame. 

“Joel, baby… I—” 

“I know,” he whispers. “Let go for me, darlin’. I got you.”

“Fuck!” you moan, head tilting back as you move your hips forward and backward quickly. Your body shakes with pleasure as the tightness builds and builds until you can no longer take it. You collapse into Joel, breathing heavily. 

Joel groans to himself as he grips your hips, guiding you along his length as he chases his own release. It doesn’t take long because when you whisper his name, he feels the tightness in the pit of his stomach break until he releases into you for the final time that night. 

Joel rests his forehead against your own, feeling himself soften while still inside of you and he makes no move in lifting you off his lap. Even as he feels his seed trickle down to the hair at his base, Joel keeps you seated on his lap, strong arms embracing you. 

“Thank god it’s the weekend tomorrow,” you whisper with a quiet giggle. 

“Why’s that?” he asks with a small smile. 

“Because I’m sure that I’d have trouble walking,” you answer. 

“You’re good for my ego,” he chuckles. 

“Where did all of that come from?” you ask honestly. 

Joel shrugs, staring into your eyes. “Nowhere.” 

“You’re lying.”

He sighs and finally asks, “Does our age gap bother you?” 

“What?” 

“I’m old enough to be your father–”

“I don’t care,” you interrupt him. “Our age gap means nothing to me…” 

“But it should, shouldn’t it?” 

“A bit too late for that, don’t you think?” You shake your head, lifting your left hand in the air and taking his left hand in your other one, showcasing both of your wedding rings. “We’re married now, baby. We’ve had this conversation before.”

“Some– Some asshole made a comment and it just got to me,” Joel sighs. 

“Did this happen at work?”

“Yeah,” he answers truthfully. “Fired him and Tommy had to stop me from doin’ somethin’ stupid and I just—” he sighs. 

“Well, you just proved that age is nothing but a number, Joel. We had sex three times in the last two hours… And I’ve never had sex more than three times in one night so…”

Joel lets a small smile line his lips. “Never, huh?” 

You shake your head. “You’d be the first.” 

“And your last,” Joel finishes. “I’m sorry it got me,” he sighs. “I don’t usually care what other people have to say about our relationship, but for some reason… This just got to me.”

“If our gap bothered me, I wouldn’t have married you,” you say quietly, hands coming up to gently brush his hair away from his face. “I love you. All of you.” 

“Even if I’m some old man?”

“An old man wouldn’t have been able to do what we just did,” you smile. 

He chuckles and gently pecks your lips. “Love you so much, darlin’.” 

“I love you too, Joel.” Slowly, you stand from his lap with a quiet whimper as you extend a hand out for him. “What do you say we take a shower and then spend the rest of the night cuddling?”

Joel smiles lovingly in your direction and stands from the couch, taking your hand. “That sounds like a great way to end the night, baby.” 

[gyaruhana]

pls write for thanos with hatefucking… like that man has that potential after seeing how he talks to the other contestants

Thanos/Choi Su-Bong - Hatefucking

Synopsis: You and Thanos hate each other and, no matter how many death threats he sends your way, you never listen. So he decides that, if threats don't work, maybe you need to be fucked instead.

A/N: wrote this in like two hours max so it may not be the best but I tried anyway !! I love Thanos so much and hatefuck with him has me thirstyy

Warnings: smut, penetrative sex, blowjob, degradation, thanos is a little meanie and you're sassy

If there was one thing that could be said for sure about Thanos, it's that he was a total fucking dickhead. 

From the very first game you played in this hellhole, he had been nothing but a problem. He skipped around like he owned the place and had no problem with sacrificing a few people. Not to mention, he was loud. So annoyingly loud. 

Unfortunately for you, he seemed to really hate you too. Maybe it was the fact you kept glaring at him like he did something or the way you'd make some sort of sarcastic comment every time he spoke. Whatever the reason, the feeling was mutual. He hated you. You hated him. That was the end of it.

Well, it should've been. 

As if some divine being took joy in your pain, Thanos walked up to you while you were alone with an angry look - clearly having something to say to you. You could guess he was going to try to threaten you into choosing to continue the games next vote since you had chosen not to.

“Yo. It'd be in your best interest to choose the blue button. It's really pissing me off when you keep pressing that red x button every time,” he spoke as he looked down at you from where you sat.

“Or what?” You say as you stand up and look at him with disdain. You weren't about to let this idiot try to scare you into doing what he wants. You weren't his slave. “Or I'll fucking kill you,” he says as he steps closer with a look that seemed like he meant it. Honestly, you didn't doubt that he was telling the truth. He's been killing people since the first game and it certainly won't be any different for you.

“Ooh, scary,” you say sarcastically before pushing past him. You didn't get far before he grabbed your wrist and turned you around, pulling you close to him. “You don't think I'll do it? Cause you'd be wrong,” he says as he looks at you dead in the eyes. You harshly pulled your wrist away from his grip and gave him a scoff.

“You're too much of a pussy to do shit. The only thing that gives you confidence are those dumb little pills you take,” you say as you look at him, challenging him to say something else.

It was quiet as you two just stared at each other, both silently praying for the other's death. He lets out an annoyed huff before finally breaking eye contact to look to the side. Without another word, he pushes past you and walks back to the other side of the room where the rest of the people who wanted to continue playing the game were. If that idiot really thought he could sway you, he'd soon learn you aren't swayed by death threats from high dumbasses.

When it came time to vote, you could feel Thanos staring you down. You turned your head to look back at him with an eyebrow raised and he turned his head away. You could see the annoyance all over his face. 

One by one, each player went up and placed their vote. The numbers were quite even and it was hard to tell who'd end up victorious in this vote. When it was Thanos's turn to vote, he made a point of stopping right behind you before he walked down.

“Remember what I said earlier. I'll kill you,” he whispers before walking past and skipping down towards the buttons. He kissed the blue button before walking over to the corresponding side but he was looking straight at you.

You ignored his hard glare and walked down to the buttons. You raised your hand and, no surprise, pressed the red button. You turned to him and flipped him off with a small smirk before walking off to the other side. 

For a moment, you actually thought you'd get away with that because it seemed that more people wanted to leave now. However, that was not the case as the result ended up being a tie.

Great. You were stuck here for longer. You definitely wouldn't be able to avoid Thanos if you were stuck here till tomorrow. He didn't seem to walk up to you immediately. It was like he was waiting for the right time to strike. All he did was stare at you from across the room as if he was formulating the most brutal way to tear you limb by limb. And, wow, he stared at you for a very long time. 

It wasn't until there were 5 minutes before lights out did he come to you. You were all by yourself in a corner and no one seemed to be paying much attention. They were all so busy in their own whispered conversations.

“Hey, it seems you didn't understand me the first time,” he says as he grabs you by your shirt and pushes you against the wall behind you. “I said I'd kill you if you pressed the red button,” he continues as he looks at you with annoyance.

“Go ahead then. Kill me,” you say as you look at him with a small smirk. He might have already killed a few people but you didn't believe he'd have the guts to kill people outside of the games.

He was quiet. All he did was stare. It was as if he was calculating some thoughts. He looked toward the timer on the wall before looking back at you.

“You're fucking unbearable,” he speaks before he's suddenly slamming his lips against yours. You didn't expect this move. You expected him to stab you or choke you - not kiss you.

You push him away with a glare. You couldn't be kissing this idiot. You hated him and he was fucking stupid. But even with that hate, there was something about the way he kissed you that had you thinking twice.

Fuck, you were doing this. 

You pulled him in by his collar and pressed your lips against his. There was nothing romantic about this kiss. It was pure hate. Just angry, rough kissing as if it would solve anything. His hands were all over your body before they finally decided to settle on your hips with a tight grip. He pulled away before starting to leave kisses along your neck. He wasn't gentle at all. He was biting you as if he wanted to draw blood.

“You're such a fucking bitch. Always acting so smug. I'm gonna shut you the fuck up,” he says as his hand goes to your hair before yanking it back roughly to give him better access to your neck. 

“You're the fucking bitch. Always walking around like you own the place,” you say back and in response he bites your neck hard making you wince slightly at the pain. “watch your fucking mouth,” he spoke as he pulled away and wrapped a hand around your throat. As if on cue, the lights suddenly turned off leaving you two in the dark.

He let out a small laugh as it went dark before he removed the hand on your hip and instead started pulling your pants down. 

“I'm gonna fuck you till you learn you're not in control, I am,” he says before pulling his own pants down. He wasn't going to play nice or take it easy. Not when you hadn't played nice with him. 

“You think you can fuck me into submission? You're way too fucking cocky,” you say with a quiet laugh, finding it amusing how he thought you'd fold once he started fucking you. “We’ll see,” he says, his grip around your throat tightening to shut you up. He pulled his boxers down slightly, enough to let his dick out, before he pushed your panties to the side.

“I'm gonna show you not to fuck with me again,” he whispers into your ear as he lines himself up with your entrance. Without another word, he starts slowly thrusting himself in till he's all the way inside you.

“You're such a fucking whore,” he says as he starts to pull out before thrusting in again with one stroke. He kept a pace of being fast and hard as if trying to make you feel his hate on a spiritual level. 

Well, God you could definitely feel it. He kept leaving aggressive bites all over your neck as he thrust into you. His hand around your neck kept its firm grip, enjoying the way you struggled to breathe. 

He wasn't fucking you for pleasure, he was fucking you to make you learn a lesson. He wanted to make you cum. He wanted to choke you till your vision got blurry. He wanted it to be clear he hated you with every fiber of his being. 

His free hand went down to your clit and he pinched it before rubbing it with a circular motion. He wasn't gentle so it brought a mix of both pain and pleasure. A feeling that brought you closer to the edge of a sweet, sweet release. He could feel you tighten around his cock and it made him let out a groan which turned into a small mocking laugh.

“Fuck, are you- going to cum? Already?” He says mockingly with a smirk. He took pleasure in knowing he could control you like this. Control someone who seemed to hate him. “C'mon, cum on my cock then, whore,” he said before pressing his lips to yours roughly. He forced his tongue into your mouth and he was clearly eager to get you to cum. 

With a slight angle of his hips, he thrusted into just the right spot that had you tipping far over the edge. He let out a groan at the feeling of you coming undone on his cock before he quickly pulled out. 

He released your throat and grabbed your hair instead before forcing you onto your knees. You looked up at him with a glare and he returned it with the corner of his mouth just barely quirked up. “suck my cock so I can come,” he said as he brought his cock closer to your mouth. He really didn't hesitate when you opened your mouth and immediately forced himself in with a groan at the feeling. 

“God.. do you taste yourself on my dick?” He says as he looks down at you. He thrusts into your mouth making you gag and he just laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world. “You're such a fucking bitch when you talk shit. I like you better like this,” he speaks as he mercilessly thrusts into your mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat over and over again.

“I'm gonna cum in your mouth and you're gonna swallow, yeah?” He says before throwing his head back with a groan. It didn't take long before you felt his cum run down your throat. He thrusted a little more as he came down from his high before finally pulling out of your mouth. There was drool running down your chin as he pulled his boxers and pants up before kneeling in front of you.

“Swallow my cum,” he orders as he tilts his head at you and waits. You look up at him before turning your head and spitting onto the floor instead. 

“I think I'll pass,” you say as you look up at him once again with a glare. Tension rose between you two again but this time, it was different. Sure, it was hate, but there was undeniably a different punishment waiting instead of an argument.

“Then I guess you haven't learnt your lesson,”

[autumnscribbles]

take care of you | rc

pairing: mommyissues!rafe x pogue!reader

summary: after a heated argument with ward, rafe seeks comfort from the only woman in his life who’s ever stayed

warnings: wee bit of theorizing about mama cameron (death)

wc: 1.8k

a/n: hey friends!! thank you to the anon that sent this request in!! i love me a soft rafe moment who just needs to be held🥹 enjoy!! feel free to send me more angsty/soft rafe i love it!!!

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘

Rafe slammed the truck door shut behind him, twisting his key into the ignition. Ward stood in the doorway ahead of him, his mouth moving but his words unheard. Rafe stopped listening to him even before he decided to leave. He couldn’t listen to it anymore. The rain pelted the windowsill, overpowering the pounding sound of his accelerated heartbeat. He pulled out of the driveway, no destination in mind. He just had to leave.

As he drove, his headlights broke through the rain ahead, illuminating the pitch black road. His breathing was still heavy, trying to ignore his fight with Ward. They weren’t exactly few and far between, but this one had escalated particularly badly. He replayed it over and over, on the verge of screaming just to make it stop.

He didn’t know why he tried to hard to impress Ward, or to get his validation. Everyone is his life left in one way or another. Whether it was on their own terms, or they were taken. He clung to Ward and the fact that just maybe, he would stick around. Be proud of him. In the end, everyone gave up on him. Everyone screwed him over.

Except maybe one person.

When Rafe first met you, he didn’t like you. He never thought he could be friends with a pogue, let alone be with one romantically. You had too much confidence for someone who didn’t have very much. He admit, he thought less of you. He judged you about things that didn’t truly matter. Eventually, he began to find you endearing. You didn’t need boats, a big house, designer clothes, or anything material to be happy. You knew who you were, and he admired that.

You understood him in ways no kook ever had, and probably more than any kook ever will. You knew hardship, and you saw through his bravado. You could tell deep down, he was in pain. No money could fix what was truly happening inside. All the other kooks were shallow. Never having any conversations with substance, just rambling about bullshit. Rafe never really fit in with any of them. He pretended to be friends with most of them, to keep up appearances and his reputation. At the end of the day, he knew none of them truly cared about him. Even worse, he knew they would mock him if they knew he was with you.

Without realizing, Rafe ended up pulling into your driveway. Through the still pouring rain, he could barely see your house. All the lights were off, including the porch light. Were you home? He didn’t even know. As his mind reeled, he automatically drove here. He wanted to see you. Wanted your comfort. Before you, he hadn’t had that in a long time. Since his mom…no one had ever been there for him. No one to tell him things would be okay, no one to comfort him, or hold him. He craved it.

He hopped out of the car, jogging through the rain to your front door. He rapped his knuckles, hoping you would appear on the other side. He saw a light turn on inside, and exhaled a sigh of relief.

You opened the door, met with a dripping wet and sad looking Rafe on the other side. You were surprised to see him. You had some distance from each other recently, since Rafe told you that his friends couldn’t know about your relationship. You pulled back as he continued to hang out with them, unsure how to move forward.

Seeing him here made your heart sink. He pouted as his blue eyes bore into yours, sadness overcoming his entire expression.

“Can I come in?” he asked. “Please.”

“Of course,” you muttered. You stepped aside, letting Rafe into your empty house.

He crossed the threshold, a shiver coming over his body at the sudden change of temperature. His wet clothes left him cold, making the warmth of your house even more shocking to his system. He wiped at his face in attempt to dry it.

“Are you cold?” you asked gently. “Here let me go get you some clothes and a blanket.”

You walked away for a moment, leaving Rafe standing in your doorway. You gathered a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie that belonged to your brother. He wasn’t here, he wouldn’t mind. You snatched your fuzzy blanket from your bed, scurrying back to where Rafe stood waiting. You passed him the clothes, offering him to go change.

As he took his time, you put a kettle of water on the stove. Opening your white cabinets, you rummaged through the various flavours of tea you had. You settled on chamomile. You knew Rafe liked it, even though he would never admit it to literally anyone else. You grabbed 2 mugs and placed the tea bags inside as the kettle began whistling.

You took the two steaming mugs out to the coffee table, where Rafe sat on the couch, waiting for you.

“Here,” you muttered, handing him the mug. You grabbed the blanket, placing it across his lap. “That should warm you up.”

“Thank you,” he said softly, gentle eyes looking up at you.

You sat down beside him, tucking your legs up on the couch. You both sat in silence for a moment, sipping your tea. He let out a small sigh after his first sip, a little smile tugging at his lips.

“My favorite,” he whispered. You responded with a nod.

“You take such good care of me,” he said, breaking the silence more. “I don’t deserve it.”

“Rafe,” you sighed.

He shook his head, not wanting you to deny the truth. He didn’t want you to tell him that he deserved it when he knew it wasn’t true. You were consistently there for him, exuding a kindness he’d never felt. Yet what did he do in return? Essentially tell you he’s embarrassed about your relationship. It was ridiculous, and you shouldn’t be nice to him.

“Come here,” you whispered, opening your arms to him.

His eyes welled up with tears, and he leaned over, resting his head on your lap. You tugged the blanket up slightly higher, covering his torso. You ran your hands through his hair and down his back, feeling the tension release from his body.

Unexpectedly, the tears continued to fall harder. Rafe’s breath caught in his throat as he heaved out a sob.

“You’re okay,” you cooed. “I’m here.”

He let out all the emotions he had been trained to hold back. Grown men didn’t cry. Strong men didn’t cry. This is what he was told over and over. No one ever let him express himself freely, or show vulnerability. For some reason, he felt safe to show it around you. Confident that you didn’t judge him, or view him as weak.

He didn’t realize how much he was craving to just be held. To have his hair played with, his back scratched. To be told it’s okay. He couldn’t remember a time when someone treated him so gently. He wondered if his mom was the last person who truly took care of him. Now, he felt responsible to take care of people around him most of the time.

“Talk to me,” you said. “What happened?”

“My dad,” he blurted out. He rubbed the tears from his eyes, taking a deep breath as he tried to compose himself. “We got into a fight, as always. I accused him of…of killing my mom.”

“What?” you asked, unable to hide the shock in your voice. “Do you really think…”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I was too young, but sometimes what he says just doesn’t add up. Doesn’t matter anyway, not like anything would happen to him.”

You nodded silently, knowing he was right. Even if Ward had killed her, no justice would be had. You knew Rafe grappled with the loss of his mom. Rose wasn’t exactly a replacement. She was cold, unkind. Rafe was in a constant battle with Ward. Trying to impress him, get his validation. Rafe grew up wanting his dad’s success, but most of all he just wanted his love. His acceptance. He didn’t think he would ever have a real family. That possibility only came into view when he met you.

“I’m so sorry, Rafe,” you consoled him. “I know how tense things can get with your dad. My arms are always open if you need a break, or need to talk.”

He sat up from your lap, facing you. His eyes were bloodshot from his previous tears. His usually hard features had softened, his eyes still carrying a deep sadness that you knew you couldn’t fix.

“I’m going to tell everyone we’re together,” he told you. “You’re…you’re perfect. You don’t deserve to be hidden. I don’t deserve you in general.”

“It’s okay,” you whispered. “When you’re ready.”

“I’m ready,” he nodded. “I think…I think you’re the only person who actually cares about me. Who listens and…sees me.”

Your eyes welled up slightly. You weren’t expecting Rafe to say something so vulnerable like this. His rough edges were beginning to soften around you.

“I see you, Rafe,” you told him. You reached out and cupped the side of his face, brushing your thumb along his cheekbone.

He leaned forward, his warm lips crashing onto yours. The kiss was desperate, yet gentle. You didn’t realize how much you had missed this. When you pulled away, Rafe’s eyes were glistening once more.

“Everyone in my life leaves, or screws me over,” he told you, repeating his previous thoughts. “Please don’t leave me.”

You pulled him towards you, wrapping your arms around him. He melted into your touch, safety and warmth encompassing his entire being.

“I’m here, Rafe,” you whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You heard his stomach gurgle, making you let out a quiet chuckle. “Hungry?”

He nodded into the crook of your shoulder. You laughed once more as he pulled back, a smirk on his face.

“Let me make you something,” you told him. You planted a kiss on his cheek before standing up, placing the blanket over his carefully. “You just sit here and relax, okay?”

“I love when you take care of me, baby,” he murmured as he rested his head on the arm of the couch.

You smiled down at him before going into the kitchen to make him some food. He felt safe with you. You had to admit that your heart soared at the thought that you were the first person he came to after a fight with his dad. The first person he opened up to about his mom, to try in front of.

You didn’t even realize it would always be you. You would always be the first person he would run to, even in a crowded room.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘

[pomegranatelifethis]

Live in the moment

Batfamily x Youngest and Clumsiest Little Sister

"You were just walking… how did this even happen?"

Being the youngest member of Gotham’s greatest hero family was already a challenge, but being a complete disaster made things even harder. Yet, your brothers adored you—despite the fact that you constantly got yourself into trouble… or accidentally put yourself in danger.

---

1. Dick Grayson (Nightwing) - "My Reflexes Have Improved Thanks to You."

Dick spent years training to perfect his reflexes… but his real test was you.

Catching falling cups before they hit the ground? ✅

Grabbing you before you tumbled down the stairs? ✅

Stopping you from accidentally falling onto criminals? (Not so much…)

"You know what? One day, I'm going to tie a bunch of balloons to you. At least that way, you can’t fall."

But as much as you exasperated him, your energy reminded him of his younger self. And deep down, he had silently sworn to always protect you.

---

2. Jason Todd (Red Hood) - "Are You Getting Into Trouble on Purpose?"

Jason could handle Gotham’s deadliest criminals, but your clumsiness? That was a different kind of nightmare.

One time, you accidentally spilled coffee on a gang leader. You don’t remember what happened next because Jason whisked you out of there before things could go south.

"Look, kid, if you ever do something like that again… you will, won’t you? Ugh."

No matter how much he grumbled, he was always the first to come to your rescue.

---

3. Tim Drake (Red Robin) - "You Don’t Have to Try This Hard to Die in Gotham."

Tim analyzed your clumsiness and tried to come up with solutions. But no matter what he did, you still found ways to get into trouble.

A simple walk = Crashing into a streetlamp.

Drinking water = Somehow short-circuiting Gotham’s power grid. (They still don’t know how.)

"Alright, new plan: I’m making a drone that follows you 24/7. Just in case."

He tried to keep you safe, but in the end, he just accepted that you were a walking disaster.

---

4. Damian Wayne (Robin) - "How Are You Even Related to Us?"

Damian expected you to live up to the Wayne name. But your technique? A complete disaster.

One time, during training in the Batcave, you somehow managed to punch yourself in the face.

"Biologically, how is that even possible?!"

But if anyone outside the family tried to hurt you? They’d quickly learn that Damian’s sword was much faster than their escape.

"You might drive me insane, but no one else is allowed to hurt you."

---

5. Bruce Wayne (Batman) - "You Are Gotham’s Biggest Danger."

Bruce knew Gotham was dangerous… but keeping you safe was a whole different battle.

Whenever you tried to sneak out of the Batcave, he always caught you. And every time, he would take a deep breath before speaking.

"I’ve told you countless times. It’s dangerous out there."

"But I was just walking—"

"Yes. And last week, while 'just walking,' you nearly fell off a construction site!"

But no matter how many rules he put in place, his biggest fear was losing you. And in his own way, he always made sure you knew how much he cared.

---

Conclusion:

Being the clumsiest, most trouble-prone member of the Batfamily wasn’t easy… but no matter what, they all loved you. And every time you found yourself in danger, they were always there to save you.

[garez19]

a lot to share

rich! yandere x thief reader.

reader steals from her richie rich friends, yandere male, manipulation, subtle blackmailing, class distinction, 4.4k wc.

you had always wondered how it felt to be a rich kid. a real rich kid. not the upper middle class, i mean, rich kids whose parents could afford anything and everything for them. kids whose parents invest in their children’s education, their passions and aspirations without having to worry about paying the bills.

growing up you met a handful of them, and you even befriended some. you witnessed the fact that everything they -and you, for that matter- ever wanted had always been between their lips.

you were envious, even when they were certainly generous to you. why would they not be? they always had more. they could’ve always had more. and it pissed you off. the fact that you were never, no matter how hard you tried, on the same level as them made you turn into a grumpy kid most of the time. you wanted that one toy eliza had, and you didn’t want to play with it and give it back to her when the playtime was over. you wanted it to be yours. a belonging of yours.

your mother wasn’t happy in the slightest when she found the toy in your backpack. she was angry, for sure, but there was a different kind of emotion in her face; disappointed and embarrassed. still, you could only assume how much patience she needed to have to be able to have a normal conversation with you. she tried to seem understanding, and did her very best to explain what you did was not acceptable, and how eliza must’ve been very upset that her favorite toy was gone. you remained still, but your mother could see the way your upper lip was quivering.

“eliza’s mom can buy her a new one.” you said right before bursting into tears. what was the big deal? why did she have to ruin everything for you?

“that doesn’t mean you can get your hands on their belongings.” she replied, her voice sharp and stern this time. “i’m sorry.” was all you managed to let out. she gave you a sympathetic look. then she talked a bit more, and you agreed you’d give it back to her tomorrow.

“you shouldn’t do that again.” she reminded you once more. you hummed quietly. however, you still couldn’t quite understand what was truly wrong with it. even so, you did as your mother told you. but when you saw eliza with such big surprised eyes, full of joy and a beaming smile on her face, you could finally see why your mother was so upset with you.

you were happy she didn’t try to ask questions. where did you find it? why didn’t you tell me? were you the one who took it? no, none of them had crossed her mind. “thank you,” was all she said. “mom bought me a new one,” she added. “i can give it to you if you’d like.” she said while playing with the toy. you didn’t answer. you couldn’t find the right word. you were ashamed—a new emotion you’d learned very recently.

“i don’t want it.” you mastered up all your courage. the desire was always bigger. it was bigger than shame, or wrath, it was bigger than any emotion you could ever describe. but you didn’t want someone to give it to you just because it was something they wanted to get rid of.

you wanted to conquer it instead. you wanted to get your hands on it forcefully, by grabbing it and making sure that you were the one who took it.

you ended up stealing it, told your mom she gave it to you because “her mom bought her a new one.”

soon it had become a habit. you knew how wrong it was, and you knew the consequences you had to face in a scenario where you were caught. you knew you weren’t worthy of having any friends, and the excuse of “their parents can buy them a new one.” didn’t work on your conscience anymore.

but, you couldn’t stop.

you tried your best to surpass the desire. the desire to have more, to own more, and to get to have a say in what you truly wanted in this life. you tried your hardest, so much that you even avoided rich kids like the plague.

but then he came into your life with classy clothes and a car you would have only seen in your dreams.

materials don’t mean anything to me, you reminded yourself. sure, they didn’t; what got on your nerves was the fact that they had the chance to have it, maybe. maybe it was the only reason you were angry.

none of it means anything to me. you reminded yourself.

but it was hard to do so when he was there. he was kind, charismatic and intelligent. truly an overachiever, and he certainly got it all.

you have never had such desire in a long time. the last thing you had craved something so painfully was eliza’s toy.

when you ran out of patience, you already found yourself seated next to him, glancing at the notes he took in class. first it was small remarks. then you became a familiar face for him. then you were talking to him, sharing stories and making stupid jokes, asking stupid questions.

you were weird. he could almost sense something was off with you. acting sweetly and bubbly all the time, yet he could see your eyes were dull when you looked at him. it was nothing he hadn’t seen as he had always been surrounded by people like you. sly and ready to fake any kind of demeanor.

no,

what he didn’t understand was you were still trying your best to do as your mother said. just because someone is rich doesn’t mean i can get my hands on their belongings. you reminded yourself as you found a better place for your -eliza’s- toy. more than a decade had passed, and you still didn’t grow out of it.

how laughable you were.

you observed the toy very carefully, adjusting its position and rechecking again.

as i said, the desire to own something was bigger than any meaningful sense of accomplishment. and, fairly enough, rich kids could never make sense out of something so sentimental. he could never understand such emotion. he never truly craved anything. nothing ever was over his reach, which is why he could never figure out motivation of people with tenacity.

he always knew he could get whatever he wanted. his parents didn’t hesitate to spend hundreds on toys he would play with only once. he didn’t have a favorite toy, because at the end of the day, none of them was special.

he didn’t have close friends that would truly care. he didn’t know how to forge unbreakable bonds with people, because at the end of the day, he didn’t crave anything including meaningful human connections.

he didn’t have a life-time goal. sure, he had got the best grades, but it wasn’t truly because he had the motivation. he simply had endless opportunities and didn’t have anything better to do than learning new stuff that seemed somehow entertaining.

an overachiever with no real ambition in his life.

how laughable he was.

and yet you were really getting on his nerves. it was nothing new for him really, being surrounded by girls who didn’t know how to take no as an answer. girls who wanted to taste how it felt like to be with him, to be him. girls who wanted pretty boys with a lot to share.

he hated people like you. he hated that he was only a symbol of achievement and acceptance to people with materialistic values. that was exactly when he decided to go along with you. he started agreeing with whatever you wanted to do. you had a stupid idea? all ears. you wanted him to be your project partner? sure thing. you had seen a funny video? show him.

because he really wanted to see where this was going for once. he wanted to see how much you were willing to go just so you could get what you wanted. you couldn’t decide if the change was good or not. it was unexpected, and unexpected things would make your stomach upset. you enjoyed his company, true, yet you still couldn’t get your eyes off of eliza’s toy. and you sure wouldn’t try to avert your gaze on his belongings. he should’ve known better, but you could still hear your mother’s voice in your head.

hanging out with him was fun. he was only there when you actually asked him to. he didn’t need you to check up with him because, fairly enough, he couldn’t care less about you. he didn’t consider you a friend, and he most certainly had lots of things to do. the comfort of such dynamic made you feel lighter. he made you feel comfortable unlike eliza and your other friends who found you distant the moment you tried to have some time by yourself.

hanging out with you, although hard to admit, was fun. you didn’t ask about his ambitions and such topics he wouldn’t want to answer. you were just so busy with telling him how much you hated your boss and your family matters you weren’t supposed to tell anyone. you had a lot to share. you had funny stories about high school. you had recommendations on books and songs about love. you had laughs and joy to share, even when it didn’t seem genuine to him at all.

“my friend made it, wanna taste it?” you told him. he didn’t answer. you still gave him a small piece of it anyway. he could see you actually liked sharing, and it wasn’t special to him. you were annoying, sure, but you still had qualities he liked about you.

he liked not having to talk about serious matters. he liked he had someone he could be stupid with.

and unlike he had assumed, you weren’t trying to pursue him romantically. you weren’t flirting with him, and you weren’t interested in knowing his current relationship status. some compliments here and there, small jokes about how your eyes were blinded by his light, and that was pretty much it. and weirdly enough, you didn’t appreciate it when he tried to treat you to your favorite dessert.

“how do you even call this shit a dessert?” you asked him while tasting what he had. he frowned for a second. “you’re jealous it tastes like heaven.” he said. you grimaced at him before tasting it again.

you had gotten even closer by the following months. he wasn’t quite sure if he still didn’t consider you a friend. and you were happy you didn’t catch anything you wanted to own. except his car, of course, but you didn’t want to play GTA in real life anyway, so you were good.

“are you going to come to the library tomorrow?” he asked, “for the project, remember?”

you checked the date. you rechecked it.

“i’m ditching school, can we do it the day after tomorrow?” you answered.

“oh, sure. did something happen?”

“it’s my birthday tomorrow.”

he frowned. then he also checked the date. turned out, you’d never talked about the dates of your birthdays. but he was still… annoyed for some reason. the fact that he learned about it just before the day made him uneasy. why did you not tell him? who were you going to celebrate it with? why wasn’t he invited? why was he upset over it?

mom makes a big deal out of birthdays, that must be the reason.

“okay, that’s good. what are the plans tomorrow?” he tried his very best to seem uninterested. so much that he hadn’t even said ‘happy birthday in advance’ or ‘ why didn’t you tell me?’ he was unbothered. he was completely fine.

“well, i’ll just celebrate it with my friends.” you replied. he still couldn’t hear what he wanted yet. you still didn’t offer him to join. not that he cared, no, he just. it was just an old habit from his mom. that was all. yeah. nothing else.

“oh. cool.” he said, the awkwardness taking over you thanks to his 2 worded answers.

“wanna come?” you doubted he would say yes as you remembered him talking about how much he disliked such concepts due to his mom’s exaggeration.

“yes,” to your surprise he didn’t hesitate, “sure,” nor did he waste a second. you couldn’t really hide your surprise, and he felt like he was supposed to disappear from the earth for a while.

“what? was i supposed to stay and do your stupid part too?” he laughed.

“oh and, you don’t need to bring a gift,” he lifted his eyebrow as you continued, “i mean, i don’t accept gifts. so just, bring your shiny self, okay?”

he looked at you with pure terror. no gifts, on your own birthday? his mother would’ve gone crazy. but he didn’t persist. it wasn’t easy for him to understand your perspective in many cases anyway.

the next day he truly felt bad for listening to you, because even though none of the guests had any gift for you, you truly deserved anything you wanted with that elegant outfit and your lovely smile. well, not anything. the exaggeration of birthdays was passed down to him from his mother. yeah. surely that was it.

your friends wouldn’t stop asking who he was and where you met him. was he single? wait, were you seeing him? no? good. well, happy birthday, dear.

the day ended with peace and happiness. you were thankful to your friends for being there and sharing the joy. the guests were leaving, and they didn’t forget to wish you the happiest birthday one last time. everyone left, everyone except him since he needed to answer a phone call real quick.

when he was done with it, he made his way to the kitchen to let you know he was ready to leave. that was the moment he saw it: a box wrapped in glossy yellow paper, tied with navy ribbon.

“so you accept gifts?” his voice was stern, for the lack of a better word.

“uhh, i don't,” you glanced at the present. “it’s from eliza.”

“so you accept gifts,” he said once more.

“well, what, are you jealous?” you grinned. that wasn’t the deal. his mother’s weird habits was — whatever.

“of what?” he sounded defensive, “anyway, nevermind, do you want to open it?” now he was like a little boy asking his friends to open their gifts out of curiosity. “let’s see what she got.”

you nodded slowly, gently unboxing it as he watched your hands. his gaze shifted to your expression once you were done—your mouth shaped like the letter o, your eyes glossy almost like you were crying.

he had never regretted anything as badly as not getting you a present. he knew there were times his mother was right, and yeah, he really should’ve known better.

he came up with a solution the next day: another package for you. and he certainly wasn’t any different than eliza, if not worse. even though you loved him and eliza, you still didn’t want expensive stuff from them. the little kid in you still thought it wasn’t truly yours if you weren’t the one who wanted it. when he saw you hesitate, he rested his hand on his chin. “i know you accept gifts,” he said with a faint smile.

his sharp gaze was lingering in the eyes of yours. you did your utmost to get it over with as quick as you could.

you didn’t have to know how hard it was for him to pick the ideal gift out there. you didn’t have to know he went as far as asking his old classmates from highschool to help him out. he didn’t have to tell you he kept annoying his mother—telling her she was the only one he could trust on this. she was taken aback by the sudden request as she had never seen him this excited for such occasions before. normally, he would buy whatever that seemed decent enough.

it was the prettiest bracelet you had seen. simple, and very elegant in its simplicity.

it wasn’t a gift you would -or could- buy your friends, to be honest. it was probably something you could only see on top of the counter. but, you knew rich kids had a different view on such matters. eliza never hesitated to get you such presents too, and she didn’t care which brand it was (or if it even had a brand, for that matter) as long as it seemed to look good on her.

you contemplated selling the bracelet before even getting to wear it. but his eyes were focused on your wrists, leaving you little to no choice.

you wore the bracelet, gently shaking your hand to make sure it wasn’t too loose.

“it’s pretty,” you said, still ashamed of the attention from him. you couldn’t find the correct words, and you hated the awkwardness of such words, “thank you, it’s… it’s so beautiful.” you said while looking at your bracelet. he liked your expression, and was most certainly satisfied with the reaction.

“of course, i picked it, after all,” he said with a boyish grin, certainly proud of himself.

the next day he couldn’t see the bracelet on your wrist.

did you not like it? that couldn’t be it because there was no way you could fake that type of expression. you liked it, no, you adored it, there was no way you didn’t. his eyes were on your bare wrist the whole day. the day after that, and the next day too. he hadn’t said anything, but his eyes were still.

“you think she didn’t like it?” he asked his mother. she was truly confused. there was no way her son, of all people, was nervous over a birthday gift.

“she probably just doesn’t like wearing bracelets.” she said with indifference. “some people are sensitive to how things feel on their skin.”

“she could’ve just told me.” he mumbled. he would’ve get you another gift if you asked him to. it was stupid of him, really, thinking too deeply over a stupid bracelet. but, in his defense,it was for you. from him.

even though you considered selling and getting rid of it, you couldn’t get yourself daring it. you knew he had tried to play it off, but you were able to see his content expression. and just because you felt awkward wearing it, you wouldn’t just do that to him. turned out even you had principles and some ethics. you put the gift right next to eliza’s toy as they brought a similar type of discomfort to you.

he had started to pay more attention to your sense of fashion. noting what you had wore and how you styled your hair, what accessories you wore, if you did. he tried to understand your preferences in perfumes and shampoos. you -and even he himself- didn’t even realize he did it. he kept asking his mom what type of gifts girls would like. he kept keeping track of every single piece of clothing you had. but there was still no trace of the bracelet. it was completely gone. he didn’t care if you wore accessories or not, all he cared was whether you wore that one single item he had for you.

“oh, it looks so pretty,” your friend pointed at the bracelet. “is it new?”

“oh, well, it’s been a while, my friend’s given it to me as a birthday gift.” you said, looking at the accessory.

“you should wear it,” she suggested. “it’s soooo beautiful!”

you didn’t answer. the weight of the item -of the feelings included in it- made it unable to lift your arm. but, you acknowledged you were making it a big deal. nothing wrong with using what your friends gave you, no?

no one including you could find out the reason he was so cheerful and ecstatic that day. not even his mom. he kept giving kind words to his friends whenever he had the opportunity— not something people caught him doing often. he even offered help to troubled people whose assignments were due. he greeted his mother so enthusiastically that she was almost 100% sure her son was finally losing it.

he was finally losing it, but your wrist looked so pretty with his gift on it. he couldn’t shake off the feelings of craving. he wanted your attention. he wanted you to think of him whenever you looked at your wrist. throughout his life, he finally had something to hang on to, to want, to desire. and it finally made sense to him when people had their lifetime goals they wouldn’t stop thinking about. people with undying ambitions and their dedication to do whatever it would take.

he wanted to be the subject of your attention. he wanted it bad.

you were finally losing it. because the more time you spent with him, the more you realized all that character development had gone straight into the trash—and that you weren’t fixable by any means. his company was comfortable, and you liked being around him. but, still, you could sense how envious you were. how jealous you were of his stupid car, his classy outfits, his big house and his mother who had mesmerizing eyes that were identical to his. you were upset he had everything, and you were upset there was no way you could drive that stupid car once your little hangout time was over.

you were finally losing it, because he had everything you had ever dreamed of. because he had everything, and the desire made your soul rotten.

it had started off slowly. like an old crow who adored shiny objects, you started off with a glamorous ring. it was his favorite, as you recalled correctly. and then it was his pretty bracelet, though not prettier than yours. then it was the jacket from that one luxury brand. and the list was getting longer. normally, you wouldn’t go as far as this because normally, people would start grumbling about how their stuff kept getting lost.

he was confused at first, though not exactly upset. he didn’t understand your motives as he had made it clear he was okay with sharing pretty much everything he had. he liked it when you had stuff that would remind you of him. why… did you feel the need to do that? was he not clear enough?

you didn’t accept his gifts, but you were completely okay with taking whatever you liked that belonged to him. you didn’t want gifts, but you didn’t stop pocketing his stuff. he was confused, but maybe, just maybe, you wanted little things in your house that’d make you think of him? maybe you were just too much of a loser and lacked good manners to ask like a normal human being.

no matter what the case was, he wasn’t bothered at all. even if you had ill intentions, it was no big deal, because at the end of the day, it wasn’t stealing if he was aware and okay with it.

he kept getting new jackets that seemed to fit your style. he got new bracelets and made sure you saw them.

the fact that he was totally unaware made you wonder if he was truly stupid, or just richer than you had imagined. he kept getting more and more stuff, and never mentioned anything getting lost. you were completely lost because… because it didn’t make sense at all. it had started to get annoying for you. that there was no way this man wouldn’t look for his items, nor was he even aware they were gone.

it started to piss you off. and you could feel your body getting tenser whenever you glanced at his figure. there was nothing you could do that’d affect this guy. you felt yourself distancing yourself from him. at the end of the day, the only person who was losing it was you. there wasn’t a single thing he would care about losing.

well, the only exception being you.

he could see you were annoyed, though not entirely able to tell the reason. he could see you drifting apart. and worth mentioning he didn’t take it well. things were getting more complicated day by day, and understanding you had never been harder.

there was no way you could walk away. not when he finally had someone to hold onto.

“my ring got lost again,” he mumbled while you two were working on an assignment together. you looked up at him, panic in your eyes lasted only a millisecond.

“oh…” you said, not managing to form a coherent sentence.

“it’s like… the third time this has happened in two weeks.” he peered at your wrist, the bracelet was still there. he smiled softly.

“you should’ve just told me if you had wanted a ring.” his voice was warm. it was genuine, and made you terrified of such warmth.

you didn’t answer, mouth going completely dry.

“you know how hard it is to deal with authorities, right?” he asked, but his voice didn’t sound threatening at all—he was still smiling, and his voice was still the softest you’d ever heard from him.

“i…” he didn’t let you finish. “it’s okay, dear,” reassured, “sharing is caring, y’know,” you looked at his expression to catch a glimpse of contempt— to your surprise, there weren’t any.

“i just… don’t think you should be distant to people when you have their ring,” he cooed, “isn’t that right?”

he made it sound weirdly romantic. like he was the one who gave it. you had his ring, that was true, and it was almost like he was happy you did.

“i’m sorry,” you finally managed to speak up. he shaked his head. “nothing to apologize, dear, the only problem we have is,” he gazed at your hands—stripped of any jewelry, “we need to find a ring that actually fits your finger.” he smiled.

you didn’t know how it came to this, but it was too late to reject any gifts.

[deansbeer]

𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐌.

♡ ⋮ my content is not suitable for minors.

꒰ paired duo ꒱ simon riley x female!reader.

꒰ synopsis ꒱ he fucks you so deep, worshipping every inch of you, and can’t get enough of how beautiful you look.

꒰ content warnings ꒱ smut | rough sex | size kink | stomach bulge | breast worship | mentions of titfucking (𖬺𖬺 implied) | overstimulation | dirty talk | praising kink | possessiveness | obsession | soft degradation | creampie | minimal plot.

꒰ sticky notes ꒱ i pray this phase never leaves me. he’s so yummy MY GOD. nobody could physically pull me off of him.

i tried remembering who to tag from my taglist for simon — and this’ll be the only time it’s used. <3

you don’t remember how it started — not clearly, anyway.

maybe it was the way he looked at you when you bent over to grab something off the floor, or the way you sat on his lap earlier, teasing just to see if he’d flinch. maybe it was the way you wore nothing but his t-shirt to bed, knowing damn well he wouldn’t last long seeing you like that.

either way, it doesn’t matter now.

because he’s got you on your back, legs spread wide, your knees almost to your shoulders as he fucks into you like he’s trying to make a home there — like he’s been waiting all damn day to get this deep. and he is deep. so deep it hurts in that sweet, swollen way. your belly is tight, the pressure unbearable and perfect, and you can’t stop the way your fingers claw into the sheets, breath hitching every time he drives forward.

and then he does it — leans back just enough to look down where your bodies meet, broad hand splaying across your stomach, eyes going dark when he sees it.

“fuckin’ hell,” he breathes, voice low and thick, like he’s not sure whether to groan or laugh. “you see this, luv?”

you blink up at him, dazed, chest heaving. “wh-what?”

he presses down gently, thumb dragging over the bulge that forms every time his cock thrusts into you. “right here,” he says, slow, like he’s savoring every word. “thas’ me. you’re so fuckin’ full, i can see myself inside your tummy.”

your breath catches. your back arches.

“s-so big,” you gasp, eyes fluttering shut.

he growls low in his throat — not angry, just possessive, filthy with it. “yeh? can feel how deep i am, can’t you? stretchin’ this pretty cunt to take every inch.”

you nod, helpless. ruined.

he leans over you again, weight pressing you into the mattress, hand braced beside your head, the other sliding under your thigh to lift it higher, open you wider. his hips snap forward, hard, and the bed creaks loud beneath you — a sharp, desperate noise that matches the rhythm of your breathing.

“listen to that,” he mutters, lips dragging along your jaw. “bed’s about to give out. ya hear it?”

you nod again, letting out a soft mewl.

“don’ care,” he growls, fucking into you harder. “let it snap. let the whole fuckin’ thing collapse. i’ll still be right here, cock buried so deep you’ll never forget it.”

you can’t think. can’t speak. every nerve ending is on fire, everything centered on the way he fills you, the way he owns you like this.

and then his hand slides up your body, rough palm cupping one of your breasts, squeezing like he’s wanted to for hours.

“bloody hell, baby,” he groans. “these tits…”

his thumb brushes over your nipple, slow and deliberate, and you keen under him, hips twitching.

“so fuckin’ soft,” he murmurs, leaning down to mouth at your chest, sucking a bruise into the skin just above your nipple. “ya know how long ‘ve wanted to fuck these?”

you gasp, thighs trembling. “baby—”

“gonna do it next time,” he promises, voice thick with lust. “wanna see my cock slidin’ between ‘em. wanna come all over the pretty curves i love so much.”

you moan, high and broken.

he grins — not the cruel kind, not the cocky kind — just full of need. like he’s just as desperate as you are. like he’s been waiting to say these things forever.

“look so fuckin’ gorgeous when you’re like this,” he says, gaze locked on your face. “all fucked-out. needy. clingin’ to me like i’m the only thing that can make ya come.”

you are. he is.

your hands claw at his back, dragging him closer, and he groans when your nails catch on his skin.

“thas’ it,” he growls. “hold on to me. take it. fuckin’ take it, baby.”

he shifts his angle just slightly and hits something inside you that makes your vision go white for a second. your back arches, legs twitch, and you cry out his name, voice cracking.

“there it is,” he coos, slowing down just enough to grind into that spot over and over. “righ’ there, huh? that sweet spongy little spot that always makes you come all over my cock.”

you’re babbling now — half words, half moans, tears pricking at your eyes from just how much it is. the stretch, the pressure, the overwhelming fullness of him.

“gonna give it to you,” he mutters, low and dark, hips stuttering. “gonna fill ya up, let you feel me long after i’m gone. let you drip with me all fuckin’ day.”

you dig your fingers into his arms, thighs trembling, body tight as a bowstring.

“please,” you gasp, voice barely audible. “please, simon—”

he shushes you gently, lips brushing your temple.

“i got you,” he whispers. “gonna come with you, baby. come inside this perfect little cunt. make you mine all over again.”

and when you come, it’s like falling.

your body locks up, pussy squeezing tight around him, and he swears, loud and wrecked, as he fucks you through it, chasing his own release. he doesn’t stop. doesn’t slow. not until he’s grinding into you as deep as he can go, cock twitching, warmth spreading as he comes inside you with a low, guttural moan.

you’re both shaking, breathless, stuck in it.

he stays buried in you for a long moment after, forehead resting against yours, breath ghosting over your lips. his hand comes up to brush hair from your face, and he kisses you — slow, soft, like he’s trying to bring you back to earth.

“you alright?” he murmurs, finally.

you nod, still dazed. “yeah. fuck. yeah.”

he smiles — small, rare, real.

he pulls out slow, and you whimper at the loss. he watches the way his come leaks out of you, eyes heavy-lidded, possessive.

“don’ move,” he says, voice back to that rough, commanding tone. “wanna see you just like this a little longer.”

you nod, weakly, and he leans over to press another kiss to your chest, then your stomach.

“next round,” he says, eyes flicking up to yours with a dangerous glint, “you’re on top. wanna watch those perfect tits bounce while you ride me.”

and from the way your body clenches at the promise, he knows you’re already thinking about it too.

💬 babydoll tags 👼🏻 ʕ ྀི ܸ. . .ܸ ྀིʔ ֹ ᥀ ׄ ۪ @bruisedfig @titsout4jackles @bluemerakis @beausling @honeyyxxbee @acaibcwl @funkycoloured @blue-d @bluestrd @fuckedupfate @jensenacklesballsack @pinkitty97 @ghostlythots

[leaky-bunny]

omo tropes i absolutely adore:

humping to help hold. watching someone wiggle and whimper and moan while rubbing against their hand or a pillow (or my fav: a partner's leg) is enough to make anyone's mouth water. when someone is so close to an accident that they have to distract themselves with the enticing friction of something pressing on their parts? delicious.

peeing in bottles. for dick owners, they have to try and aim their twitching cock into the hole while drops leak out of the tip. for pussys, they have to line up their pee hole with the bottle's opening, oftentimes making a mess because the piss just sprays out too aggressively. either way, it's just sooo *chefs kiss*

physically holding the pee hole shut. this is something i've tried a couple times myself and let me tell you, it's a truly magical thing. with a finger firmly pressed against someone's pee hole, you essentially cut off their option of relief completely. no matter how hard they squirm and relax and even push, nothing can come out. they're forced to sit with the maddening feeling of fullness until eventually the finger is removed and all the piss comes gushing out of them in a torrent.

begging. probably a basic answer but i don't care, i'm a whore for dirty talk. phrases like "i can't hold it much longer" or "i feel so full" or even just "please let me pee" is enough to make me instantly slick. bonus points if there's a term of authority in there like mistress or sir.

peeing outside, especially in the woods. there's something so electrifying about squatting down behind a bush or watching a stream splatter against a tree trunk or make a puddle in the dirt, especially if someone is at their absolute limit and has to find a spot for a last resort.

having to stop mid way through peeing. imagine finally, finally getting the release you crave and then all of a sudden having to shut it off. the shiver you get, the way your pee hole convulses, your bladder aching with all that liquid still trapped inside. my favorite scenarios of this include: being stumbled upon while peeing outside, someone physically pulling a character away from the toilet, a dom stopping a sub's stream just to be mean, and even the classic "i'll just pee a little to relive some pressure."

being tied up while desperate. one time i read this fic about a girl being strapped to a chair and pressed for information by this guy who kept giving her water as "mercy" since she'd been there a while. her bladder started filling and soon she was desperate and he used that to his advantage, pressing on her bulge and teasing her until she broke and told him everything in exchange for access to the bathroom. i can't remember how it ended and god i wish i could find that again, because the idea of being restrained and not even able to squirm is delicious.

the iconic pee dance. i mean come on, what's not to love? when someone's resolve finally crumbles enough for them to abandon all sense of dignity, you know they're truly at their breaking point. seeing the full package is truly a treat; i'm talking hands shoved between thighs, feet prancing back and forth, knees bending up and down, body hunched over at the waist, face scrunched in concentration, the whole ordeal. it's the sexiest sight imaginable, especially if that dance suddenly stills and a flood follows soon after.

[intromortal]

ꕥ GET YOURSELF A REAL MAN ⸝⸝⸝ smoking hot older!enhypen headcanons

⚠︎ smut. mdni. every party depicted in this work is an adult. this work contains age gaps (not specified, the members are just older.) power dynamics, step-cest, cheating. accurate warnings listed for each member

✷ NIA if you feel like you've already read this, it's because you have! this is a repost from my previous acc that i decided to bring back here. i plan to turn each one into their own full-on drabbles, but in the meantime, have this :)

ꕥ LEE HEESEUNG

⚠︎ | dad's bestie!hee, brief f!rec oral mention, dub-con

heeseung tried to stay away from you for so long, tried with all his might to resist you. you are just too young, and you’re his friends’ daughter. he knows it’s wrong but how can he help it when you’re so pretty? so gorgeous? and such a dirty little thing too, always trying to wordlessly seduce him. he notices how your lustful eyes follow him everywhere whenever he’s over at your parents house for dinner and you happen to be there too. he notices how you bite your lips raw and the way your thighs clench so hard under the table when he speaks to you. he notices how you always wear the most revealing outfits you can get away with for him, little shorts and tiny tops enhancing your curves so beautifully, an open invitation for him to completely ravage you. it makes him want to fucking ruin you.

that’s how he ends up sneaking in your room so late one night, after everyone already went to sleep, your parents so naive for offering him to stay the night too. your innocent sleeping form making his cock twitch in his pants as he thinks of all the dirty things he could do to you. the things he could make you do to him for being such a sly little slut.

he carefully slides in your bed, face hovering over your clothed cunt before lowering himself and pressing his tongue on it, spit smearing on those same shorts that make his mind go places it shouldn't. he works on your pussy just like that, fingers slipping past your shorts and inside your dripping hole, wet tongue sucking on your clit over the fabric but never actually touching you with it. he knows if he got a taste of your sweet little hole he would be a goner forever. he can tell you're awake by then, just pretending to sleep as your hips start to ride his digits and needy mewls leave your lips oh so sweetly. ones he will have to silence with his thick cock inside your mouth if you don’t stop it, “can’t have your parents find you’re such a whore for me… what would they think, angel?”

ꕥ PARK JONGSEONG

⚠︎ | step-dad!jay, step-cest, ddlg, infidelity, big cock jay, breeding kink, p in v

step-dad jay who has had a soft spot for you ever since he started dating your mom... to the oblivious eye merely a healthy stepdad-daughter relationship, but anyone paying attention more closely would find just how weirdly close you two are. always spending way too much time together, always making up some excuse to leave gatherings together, jay always so protective of you and straight up mean to any boyfriend you bring home for him to meet. he always says it’s because he just wants the best for you, sweet thing. only he knows that what he means by best, is himself.

“always bringing home these boys, never a worthy man,” he whispers against your mouth, spit dripping everywhere, as his warm hands encourage you to keep bouncing up and down his veiny length, salty tears still drying on your face from the pain of the stretch his unusually big cock always provides you. no matter how many times he makes you take it all, the first minutes are never easy. always slow, always filled with him whispering reassurance when you say you just can't take it. “what is daddy gonna have to do to make you understand you just deserve better?” he mouths at your neck, low groans in response to your pink manicured nails grabbing his slowly graying hair, sending heat straight to your core. he licks a stripe up your sensitive skin, relishing in the way your cunt that's already so stretched out and tight against him flutters at his words, trying to suck him in even more. “does daddy have to put a baby inside you, sweet thing mhh?”

you shake your head vehemently, the thought of your mom finding out what you’re doing with her husband making guilt knot in the pit of your stomach. he lands a few harsh slaps on your clit that have you yelping in his hold, clearly dissatisfied with your reaction. “you will take anything i give you,” he says in your ear, his firm tone leaving no room to talk back. he picks up his pace, quite literally hammering into your cunt as he holds you down by your waist with his strong hands. “daddy always knows best, pretty girl.”

ꕥ SIM JAEYUN

⚠︎ | boyfriend's dad!jake, cheating, sir kink, brief fingering

jake who hates to see a pretty girl like you in tears over scummy little boys. especially when the boy in question is his own idiot son. he couldn't understand how he even got such a gem as yourself to waste time with him, a liar and a cheater. jake knows his son better than anyone else. so finding out he was cheating on you and creating a fake instagram account to anonymously send you all the proof and the screenshots he collected was easy. it’s also easy to welcome you inside his home when you go there to confront your boyfriend, and sweetly comfort you when you find out he’s not there. jake’s rough and warm hands are so soft on your thighs, thick thumb swiping over the flesh so carefully, as if you might break any second. his tone is so smooth and buttery as he whispers soothing words in the crown of your hair. how you deserve so much better and how you’re a strong girl, you will be okay precious. his presence is so strong and he radiates such a manly energy, so different from that of your boyfriend, it makes you feel all fuzzy inside. jake notices how you clench your thighs right away, how your breathing becomes labored under his soft touches and affection. “i’m sorry for being such a mess right now, sir,” you sheepishly say, and his cock jumps at the term. you’re just so so sweet, he thinks as his full lips ghost over the shell of your ear, “just give me permission, and i’ll make you feel so much better, precious.”

you’re under him in no time, back pressed to your boyfriend’s sheets as jake ghosts his fingers along the slit of your fluttering pussy, already weeping for him. “so messy… so wet babydoll… who is this for?” he asks, purposefully collecting your slick to make a mess with it on his son’s sheets. “you sir!” you reply eagerly, hips rocking into his hold in search of more friction. he chuckles as he lowers his warm mouth to your cunt, eyes locked with your own. “i’ll take care of you so good precious… so good you won’t even know why you’re crying anymore.”

ꕥ PARK SUNGHOON

⚠︎ | ice skating instructor!hoon, daddy kink, reader has nipple piercings, p in v

sunghoon watches enamored as you glide across the ice rink, all dolled up with the dress he chose and gifted your for this competition, the gemstones in the shape of an S on your lower back reflecting the light so prettily with every movement you make. he’s been coaching you for months now and he thanks every entity he can think of for bringing such a lovely thing like yourself in his life. he knows most people wouldn't approve of your age gap, but they don't understand what being under your spell feels like. that’s exactly what you did: put a spell on him. your accidental brushes against his crotch while he corrected your form, your little groans as your joints stretched past your limit whenever you trained, your big doe eyes always looking at him for some sort of reassurance for any sort of praise. so fucking eager to please. so desperate for love.

you’re so obedient for him as he makes you ride him silly on the seats next to the ice rink after the competition is done and everyone’s already gone home. knowing very well anyone could walk in at any moment and catch you. but you're such a needy little slut for him he can feel how hard you clench around him whenever he mentions that possibility, whenever you think about anyone seeing you so full of his thick cock that took you twenty minutes to get used to. his length twitches so deep inside you when he notices how close you are but still won't let yourself cum, so whiny and desperate in his ear because you’re waiting for him to tell you to let go. so eager for his voice even when he’s making you go dumb on his cock.

“my lovely girl… you can let go baby, i got you,” he whispers as his mouth latches on one of your nipples, the metallic taste of the piercing adorning it filling his mouth and overwhelming his senses. such a dirty little slut hidden under your good girl façade.

you shake your head and pick up the pace, but can do nothing to stop your walls from fluttering around him as he literally forces your orgasm out of you, holding you down on his cock and pressing his tip so deeply inside you it makes you see starts, telling you that "it's okay honey, you're making daddy feel so good"

ꕥ KIM SUNOO

⚠︎ | ceo!sunoo and he's MEAN, oral m!rec, master kink, power dynamics, slight pet play (puppy), degradation

sunoo acts like hiring you, on request of his daughter (your best friend), was such a big big favor. and initially you thought so too; the money is good, the office is close to your apartment, your coworkers are nice too! sunoo even made sure you climbed up the ladder quicker than any other employee of his ever had. sure you are competent and you do your job well, but you were also so naive for thinking he wouldn't expect anything back.

after all he takes such good care of you in the company, why wouldn't he want you to return the favor?

it’s not rare for you to find yourself on your knees under his work desk, the door of his office open.

“open up for me… gonna let master use your mouth huh?,” he says, tapping his leaking cock on your lips and smearing all of his salty precum all over your pretty features.

“yes, master.” you do as you’re told right away, glossy eyes never leaving his as you stretch your mouth wide open for him, anticipating the struggle that always comes with welcoming his length anywhere in your body. and you’re right, he rams his cock in your mouth without giving you any time to adjust, his cock so thick and big you’re already choking all around him and it’s not even halfway in. his tip already brushing the back of your mouth. he tilts his head sideways and stares at you like you’re dumb, waiting for you to take more. you truly do try, big tears falling from your eyes as you try your best to not disappoint him. and he laughs at you. “useless little puppy,” he sighs, grabbing a handful of your hair and pushing you against his dick. “this should be easy for you by now. i know it’s big but i’ve been training you.” he cooes, his bottom lip jutting out in an expression of fake pity. “been making you gag on this cock for so long and you still can’t take it?”

your lashes are all wet with tears now, and you can’t tell if it's the hurt of having disappointed your master or the physical pain his member is causing you, but you can feel how it twitches in your throat when he notices your distress. he takes it out of your mouth, needy whines leaving you at the loss of weight in your tongue, and holds it over your face. “since you can’t suck cock properly,” he punctuates the last word vehemently. “lap it up. like the stupid little dog you are.”

ꕥ YANG JUNGWON

⚠︎ | professor!jungwon, teacher/student dynamics, car sex, face sitting, mentions of breeding, sir kink

the lovely professor yang jungwon is everyone’s crush in your university. he’s that one teacher everyone is constantly daydreaming about. so gentle, helpful, smart, funny and charming. he just has it all. it doesn't help that he’s so open about how much he loves his two year old son, always showing anyone that comes to his lectures pictures upon pictures of his baby on his phone. every single person swooning over he’s taking such good care of his kid as a single dad.

he takes such good care of you too, in the backseats of his car before you both go to your lectures: him to teach and you to learn. you’re straddling his face, his mouth latched on your sensitive little bundle of nerves as he switches between sucking on it and lapping at it like a man starved. you’re a moaning mess over him, your hips moving on their own volition as he ghosts his fingers on your thighs and traces them up to your lower back, his big hands bringing your entire weight down on his mouth.

“fuck jungwon… feels so good,” you moan as you throw your head back, eyes closed shut at the overwhelming sensation. you yelp out in pain when he nibbles on your clit a little too harshly for it to be a mistake. “sir… sorry sir.”

he goes back to lapping at your cunt, the tip of his tongue only occasionally prodding at your entrance, ignoring your mewls and whines for more. he makes you cum like that, depriving you over and over of what you really want until just a slight swipe of his tongue on your neglected clit is all it takes for you to gush all of your juices in his mouth. “so good for me… such a good girl…” he whispers as you come down from your high. and before you can even register it he pushes you lower, down to his cock and slaps it over your sensitive cunt a few times, making you jump slightly because of the overstimulation. he grabs your neck and clashes your lips to his, tongue lapping at your own as he lets you taste your own release, “gonna fuck you so good baby,” he says as he locks eyes with you, a glint you’ve never seen before hidden under the lustful shadow covering his irises and blown out pupils. “wanna give you a baby of your own… want to fill your tight little pussy up…”

[casuallyanidiot]

Yandere Eldritch being who has taken over your entire town.

TW. Dead Dove Do Not Eat Horror, confinement, isolation, death, Stockholm syndrome, yandere

You didn’t know when it had happened, but there was something very obviously wrong with your town.

It was the little things like the warped street signs, the inconsistent cracks in the sidewalk, and the way that the uncanny faces of people seemed to stare at you. It didn’t use to be like this, but you found yourself cautious about your new reality on the daily. You did try to leave and call for help, but there was some mysterious force cutting off your network. And when you did try to pack all your bags and high tail it out of there, you would end up just looping straight back on your street no matter what direction you drove in.

So now you made do with the fact that nothing was normal.

You sometimes wonder why whatever has infected all the people decided to leave you alone. Because there was no way it wasn’t a conscious decision. Your favorite flowers would start sprouting out of concrete walls and glass despite the fact it would be the middle of winter one day and a scorching summer the next. Not to mention, those flowers didn’t even grow here to begin with. It was a gesture. If it was meant to tempt or be kind, you weren’t sure. 

The town functioned like nothing was out of the ordinary, though. Well, at least it tried to puppet the barely real bodies of your community to do things they would daily. The grocery store always had food and figures milling about, and even though none of the products ever tasted quite right or had words in a real language, you could tell “it” was trying to keep things running for you.

You’d once tried to hide away in your house, thinking that it was somehow protecting you from whatever was out there. But all you did was make it angry. Constant thunderstorms that shook the ground, and hail that pounded on your roof and walls. When you continued to stay inside, that’s when it made things clear: it was letting you stay as you were. The house shifted dramatically, doors disappearing and walls bending in front of your eyes. 

Come outside. Stop trying to resist.

Privacy was just another one of those far-out concepts now.

The thing, as you so liked to call it, had been more affectionate lately. You didn’t know exactly how to describe it, but it had started morphing all the “people” into more attractive versions of themselves. Or at least, what it thought of as attractive to humans. Their faces were more tangible now and less blink-and-you’ll-miss-it, but they were uncanny in a new way. Skin too smooth, too perfect in so many different ways. Symmetrical, full lips, pleasant expressions, soothing voices: all things that on paper would lure someone in, but it had alarm bells ringing in your head nearly all the time now.

“I don’t like this, you know,” You said one day as you sat in the diner. The room was stretched out wider than what it looked like on the outside, and the waitress had an unnaturally wide smile. Before you was a plate of… something. Your guess was pancakes.

“What do you mean?” Several voices asked at once. It came from all around, and the waitress’s mouth barely moved to match the words. 

“ I like you better when you aren’t trying so hard to be something you weren’t.”

There was a pause, and the building slowly unraveled into a jumbled mess of things that you could barely comprehend, the other patrons' faces and bodies melting away into linoleum floors. 

“You’re not human. You don’t have to be. I think I’d prefer that honestly,” You shrugged and poked at your food. From the corner of your eyes, a figure seemed to emerge from the mess of what used to be your favorite restaurant. It was a writhing mass of dark tendrils, reaching for anything nearby. You’re breath caught in your throat.

“Do you really mean that?”

The voice spoke, but there wasn’t any face to accompany it. It reverberated in the base of your spine, racing through your nerves like lightning. Your breath hitched, and you finally gathered enough courage to look at it. It was a mess of things you couldn’t quite make out, but it was almost comforting. 

“This is the first time I’ve actually seen you,” you admitted, a small laugh of disbelief caught in your throat. You couldn’t help but smile. It was the first time it had actually listened to you. 

The being twitched, pulsing as it slid over towards where you were sitting at the booth. It was the only thing that had stayed intact. For something so expressionless, you’d dare to say it seemed shy. 

From the inky mass, one tendril reached out for you, the air around it crackling. You stayed in place as it slid over your hand, and you felt the wonder and relief.

“Will you stay with me? I don’t want to force you, but I’m so alone… you’re the only one who doesn’t disappear when I’m near.”

You blinked as the mass filled the cracks between your hands, folding into the lines of your palms as if trying to memorize you. If it had a hand, you’d be holding it. If it had lips, yours would be slotting against them. If it had a heart, you were certain they’d be painted a similar shade of loneliness. 

You stood up and slowly approached it, holding out your arms as you leaned in, wrapped your arms around its slowly forming figure, and nodded in silence. 

[worstgenerationloser]

Could you please do ace, shanks and benn defending their f s/o from a misogynistic man? I had to face one at work and he gave me the absolute ICK

,, Rushing to your aid! ''

Ace, Shanks, and Beckman x F! Reader.

Summary... how would your boyfriend defend you from a misogynistic man?

Contains... misogyny, mentions of harassment, depictions of bloody violence, and some slight fluff!

A/N: IM SORRY YOU HAD TO DEAL WITH THAT ANON💕 I hope since you sent in this ask the men have left you alone! If not I'll ward them away myself!! 🤺🤺

Portgas D. Ace

Ace doesn't register it completely, so at first he's confused on why this man is talking to you as if you were a baby (mostly because he's a dumbass)

Now, even if he wasn't aware the man was being misogynistic at first, he's still rushing towards you because there's literally a weird man talking to you the way you would to a little kid, and you definitely looked angry enough to tear off his head.

"Woah, what's happening here?" Instinctively and natural as breathing, his arm slips around your shoulders and his fingers move to gently graze your arm in an attempt to console you.

He doesn't like showing his temper much, but when people precious to him are involved, his angry heart bursts into flames. When the man speaks, his jaw drops out of pure disbelief. According to him, he was mansplaining how pirates operate to you. Which is weird, because Ace knows that you're definitely well versed in pirates... Considering you're his girlfriend.

He wanted to diffuse the situation, but it seems like this random needed a reality check.

"Hm... Good to know, but I'm sure it's irrelevant to her." His smile is wide and joyous, but the ominous shadow looming over his face is anything but.

"But she's clueless!", the man rambles on and bumbles about like a headless chicken, before he turns back to get one good look at Ace. Then it clicks in his pea-sized brain that maybe you know a bit more about pirates than him.

Ace looks a little scary when he's mad, you discover . But mostly cute.

"My girlfriend doesn't need to explain her knowledge to some random asshole who couldn't make a lasting impact on her life if he tried, you're way below her, buddy."

With gritted teeth, Ace tries to not light fire to the whole town, but only you seem to notice his body is literally smoking hot.

According to Ace, the guy ran a little too slow, and that's how he ended up naked covered in burn marks! The marines didn't believe him, though, and you two were left to flee.

"Can you believe the balls on that guy? It's not like you're unknown, either. Portgas D. Ace's kickass girlfriend! It's got a nice ring to it, eh?"

He nudges you a little too hard and sends you flying into a bush, but you appreciate the cute moments with him no matter how brief.

Red-Haired Shanks

Shanks learned many things during his time in the Roger Pirates, but one thing really stuck with him throughout the years. He can tolerate being spat on and kicked around, if his crew sees it as a threat then he's not gonna stop them from doing whatever it is they're planning, but he's not gonna ask them to go out of their way to deal with it.

But when someone disrespects his crew, and especially you?

Oh, he's pissed.

You think he doesn't realize at first, but he's keeping a very close eye on you two. He tries to keep his ass planted firmly into his chair per Beckman's request. Beckman is the mature one, and he's almost never wrong in the astute observations he makes. Despite this, Shanks has no self control and he's lobbing himself towards the bar where you sit.

Beckman shakes his head disapprovingly at his captain, because unlike him, Beck knows you can handle yourself.

The man in question harassing you seems to be a small time criminal with a bounty of 50,000... That doesn't deter Shanks, it might have egged him on even more because who does he think he is harassing you?

By the time Shanks has made his way to you, your harasser seems to have taken it upon himself to demean you for your appearance, pulling out all the classics like "bitch" "whore" , and "slut" to name a few. Shanks, of course, finds absolutely no amusement in this. I'm sure you can guess what happened next.

Your harasser tries to argue and degrade you a little more when Shanks steps up, not realizing how silent the bar has suddenly become. He didn't even realize the hundreds of eyes disappearing from him, not wanting to watch things unfold.

"You're drunk, I'll give you that one." Shanks barks out a laugh like he finds it funny, but up close you can see that gleam in his eyes.

Well... it's not like you could stop him anyways.

But you really wish he left the bar standing, at least. It certainly isn't doing good for his reputation as an emperor of the seas.

When Beckman scolds him as if he were a child on deck, he laughs like he'll forget about it in a day or two. But everyone knows Shanks will be doing it all over again in a heartbeat. He holds you extra close that night, trying to make sure your heart isn't tainted by the venomous words spat.

"I don't want anybody, big name or small, disrespecting people I hold dear to me."

His words are sweet while he whispers to you in bed... he's an odd man, but he's yours.

Benn Beckman

Two words. Broken. Bones.

Beckman does not play around with his girl, at all. He'll bash in heads day and night if someone even looks at you the wrong way, but he restrains himself because he's not a jealous young man anymore, so he likes to think.

Regarding everything else, he's cool as a cucumber, he prefers to let things wash over by themselves and only offers advice if he senses things will go astray. (as previously mentioned)

You're his girl, and a damn beautiful one, so he isn't surprised when some people try and scope you out, the same happens to him with many women, so why be so hypocritical about it? His heart is locked inside of yours for the rest of his life whether you want him or not, so he knows you won't run off with another no matter how much Shanks jokes about it.

If they're a little persistent, he might walk up to you and give you a few kisses so they get the message. But this man was definitely not "a little persistent."

Beck doesn't have a second to think of what he should do when he hears the utterances of vile comments slip from this man's mouth after you turned him down, because he's already right next to you quicker than his own head can wrap around. He's big, tall and scary, enough so to make someone shake with just a look.

"A grown man like yourself should know that ain't no way to talk to a lady." His voice is low, and he's talking nice and slow for your harassers ears only.

Beck heard it all, him hitting on you in an unceremonious way, all the way to demeaning you when you rejected him, spouting the same chewed up rhetoric that is "women are only good for bearing children" and whatnot. He can't let that pass no matter how capable you may be of handling it yourself.

"And what are you gonna do about it?" The man's words were proven to be a bad move before his lips could rest against eachother.

Following that, there was quite a sight. Somehow Beckman managed to twist the poor guy into some kind of abstract form of art, all bloody and fucked up with no more teeth left.

And of course he ushered you away after wiping his hands clean enough for you, because he's a gentleman, he didn't do it for himself, it was for you!

"M'sorry you had to see that, sugar." His whispers fill your head while he has you resting your head on his chest hours later, a few giggles coming from outside your bedroom door. Guess who?

"You know I won't let nobody disrespect you like that. You aren't mad, are you baby?" Beckman is a real sweet talker, so it's not like you could be even if you tried.

Plus, he looks super hot fighting.

END.

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