#does feeling this way make me an asshole?

[thinkinonsense]

i just listened to sabrina's new album and oh my god the song slim pickins is such a song that was written from daydreaming about lumberjack!logan, oh and the recent fic that you reblogged was just so yummy and perfect for that song especially the lyrics "a boy who's jacked and nice" like god having to settle down for less because nobody can be him 😭😭😭 need him expeditiously im afraid

it's slim pickins

lumberjack!logan howlett x fem!reader

cw: yearning!! fluff, tiny nsfw conversation (nothing graphic)

a/n: this request couldn't have come in at a better time because i'm seeing sabrina on opening night of her tour tomorrow night!! <3

masterlist

"am i just destined to be alone forever?"

another friday night in the hole in the wall bar outside of town. another date gone horribly wrong. your question hangs heavy in the air as you gossip to your best friend who's bartending tonight.

"you keep picking douche bags." she answers without missing a beat.

"well, that's fuckin' rude." you slur slightly, sipping on your third fruity drink tonight.

"well, it's fuckin' true." she smiles, looking over your shoulder at a group of men that walked in. "why don't you go talk to one of them? they look hot."

you spin around in your stool to see a group of lumberjack workers. these were the men that you worked with, you can't flirt with them.

"i work with those guys!" you hiss.

"sooo...?" she smirks.

both of you quickly end the conversation with the five guys approach the bar. the last thing you needed was for these guys to see the desperate and pathetic look on your face. quickly, you rummage through your purse for some cash to put down.

"what are you doing here, doll face?" a familiar voice asks.

you look up and see the most handsome of the men, in front of you; logan. twice your size, buff, toned, tan... god, you had such a crush on him. never in a million years would you go after him though, he's too good to want a girl like you. you were just a friend. he make small talk with you, laughed at your jokes, calls you little nicknames, and refills the coffee pot for you but thats what friends do, right?

"oh... um, i'm just-"

"she's been sitting here moaning and bitching to me all night about her horrible date." your best friend smiles then introduces herself to logan with a handshake.

"thanks asshole." you mumble under your breath at her, making logan chuckle.

"tough night?" he asks, looking down at you in a way that makes heat rises up your face.

"kinda, but i'll save you all the gory details." you admit, sliding off the tall stool a little ungracefully. "have a good night, logan."

"wait, doll face." he says, grabbing your arm to balance you. "wanna talk about it? i'm sure your friend here is busy."

the alcohol let him take you to one of the booths. all the other men noticed logan and you sitting together, definitely making mental notes to tease you both on monday.

"so, what's on your mind?" logan asks, taking a swig of his beer.

"it's nothing really..." your mouth says one thing but your phone says another; practically buzzing off the table.

"you sure?" he raises a brow.

"uh... yeah?" you sound confused as you peak at the notification. an annoyed groan falls from your lips as you slam the phone back down and sink into the booth. "why? why? why?"

"why what?" he squints.

"be honest, do i have dumbass written on my forehead?" you sigh, hazily looking over at logan. the question threw him off guard; unsure if you're joking or not.

"no." he answers.

" well, i sure feel like one. every guy i've gone out with is either the most obnoxious asshole i've ever met who's still hung up on his ex or he's absolutely perfect but he's just not ready for a commitment right now? what the fuck does that even mean?"

all of your drunk rambling surprised logan. at work, he's only seen your shy personality as you scribble down numbers and log them into spreadsheets. this was a completely different side of you.

"i know what you're thinking, 'why not just try dating a woman?'. well, i fucking would if this town wasn't stuck in the 50's, except the men aren't going to war in order to get away from you, instead they just run back in between their ex's thighs and pull that 'it's not you, it's me' bullshit."

it was getting harder for logan not to crack at your silly yet, adorable expressions as you rant.

"and the worst part is that they can't even get a woman to orgasm." you say a little quieter. logan stores that quote in his pocket for another time. "a few weeks ago, i literally had a man in my bed who didn't know the difference between their, there, and they're! i don't know who's stupider, him for not knowing or me for letting him give me the worst head in my life."

if you were even a little sober, this would be mortifying. sitting in front of your work crush and spilling pathetic details of your love life to him. if you were even a little sober, you would have notice his eyes turn dark and lustful under the dim bar lighting. logan couldn’t fathom that you were having trouble in your love life.

"sounds like it's slim pickins out there."

"you have no idea." you sigh.

"if it makes you feel any better, i don't think that you're stupid."

"you're just saying that to be polite. trust me, everyone thinks i'm an idiot for taking these guys back every time. im just like my mom, my sisters, my friends, and every other girl i know. we make up excuses for their shitty behavior because we are afraid to be alone."

logan could see tears forming in your waterline, about to roll down your cheek. it hurt him to see you so heartbroken over these losers. everyday at work, you came in like a ray of fucking sunshine. you didn't deserve to be treated like this.

"it's not your fault that those asshole don't know how to treat a woman." he sighs, leaning forward in an attempt to comfort you.

"i know, i know..." your voice was cracking and you didn't want logan to see you so vulnerable. suddenly, you rise from the booth. "thanks for listening, logan."

"where do you think you're going, doll face?" he asks, following you out the door.

"should head home." you mumble, pulling up the number of a car service about twenty minutes out.

"let me give you a ride home." he offers. "you've been drinking too much."

it's late, you're exhausted and heartbroken so, you let him help you into his truck. it's kinda old but full of character, like logan.

"what's going on in that pretty head of yours?" logan asks, breaking the silence in the car. "still sad?"

you shrug. "think i'm just going to become a nun."

he tried, he really did, but he had to laugh.

"sweetheart, there's no need to become a nun."

"well, i'm never going to find the man i'm looking for so, might as well join the sisterhood."

"what are you looking for in this dream man?"

logan's question has your eyes wondering over to where his left hand sets on the wheel and his right on thigh. the images of what his hands could do flood your fuzzy mind.

"j-just a good guy who's um, who's kind, jacked... respectful, good with his hands...."

it was shameless, your staring that is. logan worried you might get drool on the car seat, not that he would mind.

"hm... those seem like simple requirements there."

"apparently not." you giggle. "it's fine, though. i'm sure the nuns will be friendly."

"still thinking about joining the 'sisterhood'?" he asks, pulling up to your drive way.

"maybe... i'll give it twenty-four hours and if he doesn't come knocking on my door, i'll just buy a chasity belt and go off the grid with the nuns." your smile warmed his cold bitter heart. "thanks for the ride, lo. i'll see you monday."

as logan watches you fumble with your keys and make your way inside, he fights an internal battle over his feelings. he has had a crush on you since the day the two of you first met. by the end of the week, you had baked him some cupcakes, babbling about how you do this for all the new employees, which was far from the truth he later learned.

you captured his heart. even when he tried to burry his feelings for you, when logan looked at you, his world stood still for a moment. he looked forward to all your silly jokes in the break room or the ridiculous gossip you would tell him when he lingered outside of your office door. he couldn't let you slip away into the arms of another asshole who didn't deserve you.

before logan could comprehend what he was doing, his feet lead him up to your door, knocking twice. the wooden door opened and he knew he made the right decision.

there you were in your light blue and grey plaid pajamas with a cupcake in your hand and vanilla frosting on your bottom lip. logan had never seen you look prettier.

"hey? did i leave something in the–"

in the blink of an eye, logan’s hands reach up to caress your jaw, leaning in until his mouth engulfs yours. the taste of vanilla and alcohol surrounded both of you. forgetting the cupcake in your hand, dropping it to reach up and pull logan closer. kissing him was like drinking a glass of wine after a long day. no more stress or anxiety over anyone else’s bullshit. the two of you gasp against each others lips, catching your breath.

“i could be the good guy, you know?” logan pants, now forever addicted to your taste. “i could be the good guy for you.”

your heart fluttered as you stared up at his pretty hazel eyes, twirling a piece of his hair around your finger. this had to be a very realistic dream, thats the only answer to this.

“you would do that for me, logan?” your delicate voice could bring him to his knees, worshiping the ground you walk on.

“i would do anything for you, honey.” he whispers, leaning back in to kiss you again. maybe your dream guy wasn't as far away as you thought?

[xxacidnekoxx]

I have been thinking about my relationship abuses I had in the past and really feeling something since I'm like.. almost 30 now it is actually way easier to process things and I'm not really ashamed about it anymore to be honest.

My first boyfriend I was pressured into it said I was too nice to him and it was "leading him on" I was nice to everyone back then... Him and his friends guilt tripped me into the relationship they stood on his side and said I'm an asshole for not dating him.

He was very narcissistic. I watched him yell at his grandma when the food wasn't good enough. He yelled at me when I was too tired to pay attention to him (and it was full volume levels of yelling) There was not a single happy moment.I was a prop. We had just met that year and he was already talking about marrying me. That's when I rejected him and blocked him out.

the smear campaign he created about me ruined every friendship I had in highschool. I wanted to die so bad. I'm still processing it even though it was a long time ago it... Was ... A LOT... It was an ego death . A big moment for me it made me really really careful about how I interact with people

It's horrific that some people think I'm leading them on if I use my basic level of niceness. Or if I am smiling at them I'm "making sex eyes" and then feel entitled to my love and how easily they can convince everyone around that we are closer than we really are ..and when I don't want to be marriage level of closeness point at me at me and say I am the " asshole who abandoned him everyone attack! "

Anyway That was my FIRST relationship so WOW .. does anyone relate? Lol

[daengtokki]

Kim Seungmin/gn!reader

wc: ~2.7k

rating: mildly angsty cheesy fluff (idiot enemies to lovers)

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ happy (belated) birthday to @thackery-blinks and our Seungmo ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

“I don't wanna see him...I don't like him, I think I hate him”

you what?

If anyone were in the room with you, they definitely would have heard her booming voice coming through the phone. You have to pull it away from your ear for a moment, but that’s all she has to say. For now.

“I said…” you rub your ringing ear and turn the volume down. “I said I hate him.”

hate is a big word, I'm not sure he deserves that

“He’s arrogant, and he's rude to me. Don’t pretend you’ve suddenly forgotten.”

you’re hyper-fixating…and maybe a little jealous because he’s cute and funny around everyone else. and he’s not rude, he can’t be rude if he never says anything to you

You can hear her laugh even though she moves away from the phone.

“Are you trying to piss me off? I’ll stay home tonight, and you know that’s not just a threat.” You will. You hate going out at the last minute almost as much as you can’t stand Kim Seungmin. “...such an asshole.”

excuse me??

“Not you, shut up”

he has a weird sense of humor…c’mon, you know what this is, right?

“Yeah. A congrats slash going away party for our favorite touchy kissy couple. Is it awful that I’m relieved I won’t have to be subjected to any more of their over-the-top pda?”

no, I won’t miss it…but you’re also chronically angry and single, so you might be more relieved—but that’s not what I was I referring to

“I’m ready, are you on your way?”

yeah, this lights been red for ten minutes, I swear…what’s with the selective hearing tonight? I’m coming in to make sure you’re dressed right so don’t wait for me outside

“I hear you, I just don’t wanna listen to your ‘Seungmin actually likes you’ theory again”

my hypothesis…I need more evidence

/ / /

She’s quiet for the first ten minutes of the drive, only because a perfect string of songs pop up on the playlist, but as soon as it ends, she turns the volume down…

“Are you ready to hear this?”

“No”

“Alright, so there’s literally no reason…none at all for Seungmin to not like you, or be weird around you, or less talkative, or just walk away when you enter the room”

“But he does all of those things”

“Right. Do you not read romance novels? Fanfiction?”

“What kind of fanfiction are you reading?”

She’s already exhausted of your aloofness…or just your refusal to accept anything more than what’s already in your head. But you’ve known him, known of him, for a few months now. He doesn’t give you anything aside from what you catch when he’s with others. You’re invisible when he’s in the room, and the more you think about it, the shittier you feel.

“Hello, you good? You might not read fanfiction, but you’re staring out of that window like the protagonist in very sad story. No, antagonist. You’re my antagonist.”

“I am not,” you sigh. Everything suddenly feels very heavy, and maybe it’s because you know you’re almost there.

“There wasn’t much fight in that. You better perk up, we’re almost there.”

/ / /

The first thing you see is him, and it’s not because you’re looking. Seungmin is leaning against the staircase bannister, arms folded loosely over his sweatshirt. He’s less than ten feet away when the two of you walk in the door, but he doesn’t move, and he doesn’t turn his head out of curiosity. You’re surprised he doesn’t sense your presence and walk away.

“Sorry we’re late,” she says, making sure to gently shove you forward in his direction. “But we brought gifts!”

Now Seungmin looks at the two of you. First his eyes land on her, but they quickly dart in your direction, and they linger much longer than you expect. As much as you don’t want to scare him off, you take the rare moment to look at him from such a small distance—just his eyes, though.

“It’s us, we’re the gifts”

Seungmin clears his throat and takes his leave, just like you expect.

“Well, go after him”

“Why would I go after him? Please, give it a rest…I’m already tired.”

“Okay, okay…I’m sorry. Are you good?”

“No.” They’re angry tears, but nobody else knows that. "Not really." To the other eight people in the room, tears are tears, and you don’t want them seeing you, but it's too much to hold back. “I need a minute.”

You shove through her and the next arriving couple on your way outside, but you didn’t really think beyond this. It’s cold out, and you’re not really dressed to sit around by the water, but that’s where you head on instinct. It’s empty back here, which is what you need right now, and the cool air on your warm, red, tear-streaked face. Why are you even crying? Nothing has happened, not really. Seungmin looked at you, and his stupid brown eyes sparkled and grew as they watched you for far too long. Why did he have to look at you like that?

The gazebo is what you typically claim when you’re back here. That’s where you go. It’s not exactly comfortable, but it’s pretty, and it keeps you mostly hidden from anyone looking out from the house.

A text message buzzes, but you take your time pulling it out and checking. All it’s going to be is someone, your friend, looking for you.

come back inside

“I’ll think about it” …you reply.

he never came back in the room, if that makes you feel better

“It doesn’t”

You get a few more minutes of peace and quiet, but you’ll admit that you’re already getting cold sitting out here. The wind is coming off of the lake and right at you, and every time a stray tear falls, it feels like it might freeze. This won't accomplish anything, you know that, but hiding from everything is so much easier. You might hate yourself for it later, but right now you feel good in the chilly air.

And then there's a crunch of footsteps. You ignore it. Someone has found you, but that doesn’t mean you’re getting up and going with them that easily. You've already decided this is where you belong right now, and you'll stick to that until you're dragged back inside. The footsteps stop...whoever it is doesn’t speak, though. There's only the sound of something being dropped close to you ear, and the footsteps start to retreat almost immediately.

It’s a coat, draped neatly on the railing. A black cotton one that looks vaguely familiar, and when you turn a little more, you remember when you saw him wearing it last.

“Wait!”

You almost trip as you get to your feet, and you’re glad he hasn’t turned to see you yet. But he does—he stops and turns. He looks like he wants to keep walking, though, and he does…Seungmin takes a few more slow steps backward as he watches you grab the jacket and hold it against your chest. His scent reaches your nose. You’ve never been close enough to him to know it, but now you do.

There’s nothing to say, though. You have nothing to say to him, or you do and you just don’t know how to put the words together.

Seungmin stops, and then takes two steps toward you. Is he having fun? Is he just playing with you? Tears start to brim again, and luckily he’s not close enough to see it. If you don’t figure out your next move, he’ll turn and leave and you might not get this much attention from him again.

“Did she make you come out here?”

“Make me? No, nobody makes me do anything.”

You’re glad he’s not close enough to see you roll your eyes. “Then what’s this for?” You look at his jacket, and when you look back to him, he’s taking two more big steps toward you.

“It’s cold.” He says flatly, and maybe waits for your response that never comes. “I saw you walking out from the bathroom window. By yourself.”

“And?”

Are you making him uncomfortable? He looks like he doesn’t know how to answer for his actions, and maybe he doesn’t. He’s never concerned himself with your actions before, but you also never do anything to bring attention to yourself. This was an overreaction on your part.

“And…"

Uncomfortable, maybe. Confused…probably. Maybe you should kick him while he’s stumbling over himself. “Why are you concerned with how cold I am?”

Two more steps, and now he can definitely see your puffy face. “Sorry, I'll leave you alone."

He can’t be serious. Does he want you to explain this to him? The look on his face does seem a little helpless, and you’ve never seen him look anything but sure of himself.

“This is the second time you’ve spoken to me in months.” This is also the first time you’ve been alone with him for more than a few moments.

“That's because you always seem to be pissed off. You always look angry when I see you. You don't right now...you looked upset when you walked through the door a little bit ago.

Your eyes drop to the ground in front of him, and you have to work hard to relax the scowl on your face. “I’m not angry.”

"So I never tried talking to you. I assumed you didn't want to, since you never spoke to me, either."

The first time the two of you met, you exchanged a brief hello, and that was that. You remember it very well. Seungmin took your hand in his and squeezed it so softly. His eyes were intense, but warm, and now you’re wondering if you were wearing your scowl when you first looked at him. Why could you have?

“Put the coat on, please”

You’re shivering. So is he. Seungmin takes one more step and grabs the baluster, and you think he’s going to come up here with you, but he doesn’t. You let go of the coat and finally swing it around your shoulders. The scent coming from it makes your knees weak.

“Thank you”

This time he steps up, and he’s at your level. Above it, actually. He’s looking down on you, and every bit of space closed between you makes you feel even weaker. Stupid, so stupid. Nothing is even happening. He’s just standing there, looking at you drowning in his warm jacket. You could curl up on the ground and fall asleep in all this warmth, but his stare is making you anxious.

“You look mad again”

“I’m not,” you pounce, and you force yourself to relax again. “I’m not mad. I…I’m just...”

“I have witnessed you smiling and laughing…not with me, but I always wondered why I couldn’t do it. I can never get anything from you.”

The conversation doesn’t feel real, but it’s real enough for the party guests—a few of them peer out through the kitchen window, thinking they’re being discreet.

Seungmin has made you laugh before, but only in your head. And he’s made you smile, too…as you’re drifting to sleep and thinking of him doing exactly what he’s doing right now.

“You do make me laugh”

“I do?”

“Yeah, don’t tell anyone I said that”

You make him laugh—Seungmin actually laughs, genuinely, and it sounds so much nicer than any laugh you’ve heard from him before.

“That’s not fair. They see you making me laugh right now.”

They do. Three people are by the patio door, probably wondering why he isn’t in there charming everyone. You managed to steal him away, and you wonder how long you can keep him out here with you despite your numb face.

“We should go back in, it’s cold. You’re cold.”

“I’m fine. I really didn’t wanna come tonight anyway, so being out here is better.”

“You’d rather stand out in the cold by yourself than hang out with everyone?”

“I’m not by myself”

He laughs under his breath, but his smile is a little bit wider. “So you’d rather stand out here with me than enjoy the party?”

Yes, you don’t say it out loud. How could you? The way you’ve played up your hatred for him to others, and your indifference to his face since you’ve met. It’s a little embarrassing. But it’s painful being around Seungmin…pretending you’re not upset every time you’re dragged to group outing is exhausting.

“I’m gonna take that as a yes unless you say otherwise”

Perfect. Saying nothing should be easy, but this time you open your mouth. “I can’t pretend I’m happy when I’m not.”

“You don’t have to”

“But I put on a mask when you’re around and make everyone think I’m unhappy, even when I’m not”

“You’re not?”

“I mean…I am, because you leave the room every time I walk in. But I’m not, because you’re still around, somewhere…and maybe I still have a chance.”

“A chance. So you don’t hate me?”

“No, but I don't want to get my heart broken," why are you spilling your guts to him? "So we should just go back to how things were before.” The words are just falling out of you, and looking at him like this and being with him, finally alone, makes you want to keep going until there's nothing left.

“No, we shouldn't. And I don't want mine broken, either.”

Seungmin is in front of you now, blocking you from everyone still hanging around the window. They seemed to be getting bored watching the two of you talk and do nothing else, so you at least feel like you’re alone with him again.

He reaches toward you, and you jump.

“Sorry,” he whispers and pulls at the collar of the jacket, “but if you’re not going inside,” and bends to connect and pull the zipper until it’s closed up to your chin.

You’re sure you look ridiculous in it—it’s already a little bit big on him. And no, you don’t want to go back in, because the thought of everyone staring at the two of you as you finally return…

“No, I’d rather go home”

“I can take you home”

“Everyone is in there waiting for you”

“The party will still be here when I get back”

“I don’t know you very well.” You pull the zipper down a few inches. “At all, actually.”

“Oh, you don’t want me to take you home?” He smirks. “That’s very smart and safe of you. I could be a serial killer for all you know.”

“I mean I don’t know enough about you to…ya know, like you as much as I do”

He laughs again…just a sweet, maybe a little embarrassed giggle. “So you do?”

“What?”

Seungmin is blushing. You’ve seen him do this before; the blush, the giggle, and the smile so big you thought his face would crack every time a someone flirted with him. It was hard to hide then—that horrible sinking feeling in your gut when you thought he might leave with one of them. But now he’s blushing for you, and nobody else.

“You've been skirting around the words the entire conversation, and you have to spell things out for me sometimes. I didn’t wanna make a move until you said it."

“Said what, that I want you?"

“Wow…yeah, if you wanna put it like that. You want me,” he laughs again, “I guess I want you, too.”

“Make a move, please.” You whisper through your chattering teeth, and turn your head as your heart threatens to jump right out of your chest.

“Please?” Seungmin smirks pulls the zipper down a bit more, enough that you catch the cold breeze on your neck and chest. And then he’s there, lips an inch from yours, and he stares. “Please.”

You close the space between you, cautiously press your lips to his. His return is just as hesitant, and you’re surprised at his shyness. The zipper comes down even more, and Seungmin doesn’t stop until the coat falls open again—now he has somewhere to put his arms. They disappear inside, and he squeezes tight and deepens the kiss. He kisses like you expected him to, mouth open, tongue gently asking to be let in, and you let him in. You’re finally warm again, and you’d like to be even warmer.

“Seungmin?” You touch his neck, and his skin is hot against your cold hands, but it doesn’t faze him. His mouth quiets you when you think of speaking again, and it pains you to pull him off of you.

“What is it?”

“I don’t want an audience”

He turns and sees the group of guests gathered near patio doors; his friends, yours…all either watching or pretending not to watch the show you two are putting on.

“You just want me, yeah?" His eyes sparkle as if he can do it on command.

“Just you.” Your teeth chatter again, no matter how hard you try to stop it.

“I don’t mind ditching them for a few hours”

“You don't?”

“Not if you wanna get warmed up"

[phamianaz]

destined

？▹ . ! college!hanni x biker!reader

？▹ . !! mention of abuse, violence, blood, vulgar language, angst, sensitive topic, fluff

？▹ . !!! you thought things would settle down for you, but you remember that life doesn't give a fuck about you at all.. maybe it does, just a little.

？▹ . !!!! i'm that type of author who just writes what she imagined and does not take the whole process of making the story flow good like most do cuz im just lazy 🦥 so just remember that this is just written without any proper process or whateves. ps. i feel like my endings r getting weird and like- i don't think it should be an ENDING??? like u get that feeling- idk. i talk too much 😔

m.list

"you're fucking unbelievable, y/n! don't you dare think that escaping me is a good way!"

your mother screamed furiously, running to you with a jar of milk to throw to your way as you ride your motor before revving loudly.

you scoff as the gate opens automatically for you the moment you pressed the green bottom just next to it.

"mom, cut the shit. you think screaming will solve everything? no, and this isn't gonna be solved soon if you keep screaming like a damn goat." you glared to her way, moving your motor forward before it was stopped by your mother, who desperately popped in front of you and trying to stop you.

you grimaced at the disgusting smell from her, "step out, mom! take a shower while i leave, will ya?! i'm not coming back anymore," you revved your motor again, trying to scare her with the loud sound.

it did scare her, yelling as she covers her ears with the jar of milk still in her hand.

"you asshole! fucking dickhead!" she curses you out, but it enters and leaves your ears as you finally leave the horrendous house.

as you ride away, you turn back to your mom at the distance and gave her a finger, ignoring her ear piercing screams and neverending cursing.

and you were out of that house, officially and never coming back ever again. arguments with your mother is turning horrible, violent and dangerous.

you honestly don't know why you, a 21 years old woman, are still living with your mother when you already have the capability to live independent.

but your mother apparently doesn't give a shit. claiming that she's your mother and you should be repaying her back for all the years she has taken care of you— you just did that.

you literally just paid everything for her. you gave her money, a house, a car, and a fucking land- isn't that enough to repay her? shouldn't she be glad that she has a house for herself?

you just couldn't believe her. she's acting so immature when you try to talk it out to her that you decided to live alone because you're all grown up and wanted a life for yourself.

but no, she decided to cry about it and yell at you for having the audacity to leave her alone just after having a wonderful job.

you can't believe the words that's leaving her mouth and honestly? you had enough.

did she forget the abuse and torture she caused? it left you scarred and traumatized to be even staying in the same house with her, but you bear with it because she's your damn mother.

but now, you're free, and thank the heaven, you were finally allowed to cry.

-

to take out your anger and stress, you cruised around until you got far far away from your mother.

stopping at every convenience store that you encountered, buying a drink and eat to ease your stress away, a cope to escape from reality until it turned midnight.

you checked the time, and it is almost 12 am, so you decided to just stay back at the 7-eleven store with a drink in your hand.

with your protection motor suit, you thought you'd be feeling sweaty and hot because of how thick it is, but thankfully, the night was a lot colder than usual.

you prefer a cold evening over a heat-stroking morning, and that's why you were feeling content right now as you took a sip of your drink.

after finishing your drink, you threw it into the trash can nearby and heads back to your yamaha motorcycle.

it was parked a bit far from the store, so you had to walk a little to get to your motorcycle. you didn't mind, since you enjoyed walking as much as you enjoy eating food and riding your big bike motorcycle.

it was a black yamaha r3— just a good one for you to use daily to work and back. you love it so much, and it became your baby basically.

too bad, you don't have a special someone who could be your company backpack to ride around, but..

you just don't mind at all. you love being alone most of the time, that's why.

as you had already sat on your bike comfortably to watch the countless stars spread out in the dark blue sky, the peace and warmth was finally engulfing you like a warm blanket.

no nagging and definitely no cursing towards you was heard.

you smiled, until you heard a short scream from a distance and your smile dropped to turn your head to where the sound came from.

coming from behind the store, you see a woman running frantically from a group of men who cursed and was holding a some sort of a weapon. a dangerous one at that, and there's five of them-

before you could process everything, the woman had already saw you and immediately rushed towards you, gripping onto your arm as she heaves unevenly and legs trembling badly. "p-please, help me!" she begs.

you could see tears in her eyes and the way her whole body trembling in terror and fear. you instantly stepped down from your motorcycle to cover the stranger from getting wacked by one of the gang's bat.

he harshly hit your head, though it was protected with your helmet, the impact was still stronger and you almost got stumbled onto the stranger before she caught you with a cry of worry. you grunt before raising your leg to kick the man and taking his bat as he falls to the ground with a curse with his gangs got furious.

"fuck.. you swing that bat real good, but i can crack your balls in just a second, boss." you glared through the tinted screen of your helmet, ignoring the pain on your head. the woman whimpered in terror behind you, gripping onto your clothes as she hides from the angry gang.

the larger man, who seem to be the leader, chuckle maliciously as he harshly pats his gang brother on his back, who was the one you just kicked earlier when he beats you with his bat. "you sound too feminine, so i'm assuming you're a woman,"

"yeah, no shit." you bit back, your grip around the bat handle tightened. the gang laughed mockingly at you, but you ignored it and slightly turned your head to the woman behind you, keeping your eyes on the men.

"call the police, i can't take them all by myself." you mumbled to her, voice loud enough just for her to hear. she quickly did as you told her, frantically taking out her phone and dials the police.

you turned back to the men, especially the leader.

"how about you leave us ladies alone, gentlemen?" you confidently said as you opened your screen to see them better, but they continued to laugh mockingly.

the bulky one beside the leader snorts, "sorry, beautiful lady- but we need that woman behind you. you see, she left something very bad to us.. and we were hurt, so we just wanted to teach her a lesson."

he gave you a disturbing smile, causing you to sigh tiredly, still hearing the stranger behind you mumbling to the phone. you take one step forward before you removed your helmet, revealing your bruised face that you got from your mother.

just purple bruise over your cheek and a swollen corner lip with a red cut.

"hey, what lesson are you shitting about? are you fucking kidding me, huh?" you cursed and gave your helmet to the stranger behind you before swinging your bat towards the leader who barely dodged your hit.

you hit his chin, causing him to wobble back and held his bleeding chin with a pained groan. his gang members suddenly turned aggressive and started running towards you, ready to teach you a lesson.

but all of the sudden, the sound of the siren was heard nearby and cops finally arrived.

"HEY! GET BACK HERE, MOTHER FUCKERS!" the gang, instead of rushing towards you, decided to run away from the cops, who cursed at them after what they had witnessed.

you and the stranger behind you stood there blankly, watching as the chase occurred. you wondered if they witnessed what you did to the man as well, but decided to let that go, as you instantly instructed the girl to wear your helmet.

confused, she obeyed and wore the helmet while you got on your bike before she followed suit. upon bringing up the stand and turning it on, you immediately dashed away out of the cops and gang's sight.

-

stopping in front of some random building, you pushed down the stand and the stranger behind you immediately scurries off the bike when she hears you gagging and heaving unevenly.

when she did, you followed suit with a little rush in your movement and instantly, bending to the side to vomit the contents from your stomach.

tears fell as the churning in your stomach was a bit painful for you to handle right now with all the stress.

"h-hey," she stutters, worried engulfed her as she helplessly watched you vomiting almost violently. she gently pats your back and carefully pulling your hair to hold them up from your way.

you continue to heave heavily, "fuck.. can't believe i puked my guts out again." you groaned in pain, holding onto your aching head. "mother fucker,"

she frowns, but does not pause patting your back. "you should lay down first." but you shake your head, "can't-" you heave, tears still falling and slowly, your knees begin to weaken.

eventually, you were sat on the ground by the woman and you leaned against the wall as you tiredly closed your eyes and rest.

then, after a little while, your eyes fluttered open as you were met with a blurred sight of a gentle, guilty smile and brown glassy eyes. you still felt tired and exhausted, just wanted to sleep the night away until the next two days.

"you shouldn't be resting here though... it's too dirty and there's a lot of people near us."

you hear her sigh, before hearing her taking out her phone from her purse. not knowing what she's doing, you just stared at her numbly and the headache continues to intensify and the nausea is clearly there.

"dammit.." she curses, biting on her lower lip in frustration when she couldn't find any available uber taxi from the app. she turns her phone off and sighs tiredly, then turns to look at you just to see you staring at her with a saddened eyes.

it broke her heart quite literally. tears began to well up, "i am so sorry for getting you involved.. i shouldn't come near you.." she sobbed, the guilt and remorse became unbearable for her to look at your pitiful, injured state.

but just one small shake from you caused her to look down on pure guilt. a sob escapes before releasing another one and another, until she turns into a crying mess.

"i'm so sorry," she wails, leaning her body against your chest as she continues to apologize to you.

and then, you embraced her. not as tightly nor loosen as she thought— it was just a perfect grip. your trembling hand strokes the back of her head, a gesture to calm her down but it only broke her further.

"... it's fine." a word of reassurance was enough for her to cry once again.

-

"... can you stop pacing around? you're making my head hurt even more." you deadpanned as you lay on her bed, resting and watching as she keeps walking around with a guilty look on her face and biting onto her nails.

she stops, "sorry-" there, you sigh again, holding your head and closes your eyes.

"stop apologizing every single time. it's not your fault," you reminded her a hundred times in just a night, feeling helpless with this girl who can't stop apologizing and feeling bad for what happened to you.

but you don't care about it anymore, she's safe now so what more is she worried about?

"... did the bleeding stop?" she asks quietly, taking a seat on her bed next to your laying form. your eyes were still closed, and you gave a small nod to her question.

you hear her releasing a small sigh, then silence. it took you or her a full minute before both of you accidentally spoke at the same time. you opened one eye.

"you go first." nonchalantly you said.

she hesitates before starting, her averted soft eyes were still full of guilt and worry, but comfort was also there. "my name is hanni," then she turns to you, making eye contact.

"hanni pham."

you hum, removing your hand from your head and dropping it on your stomach. "call me y/n, hanni." she nodded with a small smile, to which you wanted to return the gesture but you were bit numb to try it.

she seems to understand. "...i wanted to say i'm sorry again-" she hushed you quickly before you say anything, holding your gaze with determined and pleaded eyes. "just- let me say it. please."

and you let her, sigh in defeat. she smiles again, before it turns into a frown. "i'm sorry for what happened. i know you were confused and uncomfortable, but something just.. happened."

she pursed her lips, discomfort was visible from her body. you eyed her, patiently waiting for her to continue. her sigh came out shaky and nervous, you guessed. "it wasn't a good happening at all."

"i was trying to walk home from school, and it was pretty much a long walk for me." she continues, "and then i was walking past them and they started cat-calling me." you noticed a shudder from her shoulder.

something churned inside your stomach, and you don't like it. nonetheless, she continues with a deepened frown. "it continued like that for, i think, six minutes. i keep telling them to stop, yet they didn't—then i just.." she sighs once again.

"i guess i just snapped, and all hell loose."

and you understand her, completely and sincerely. men can be a dick and asshole, and sometimes, they couldn't take a no and immediately get aggressive like a damned dog out of nowhere. this is exactly why women aren't safe around them at all.

speaking from experience.

you nodded slowly, eyes softened in understanding. then, tears started to fall from her eyes. "i.. i was so scared. scared that they'll do something bad to me.. i-" she choked on her sob, clawing onto her head.

"it wasn't the first time happening to me but i was still scared—"

you stopped her there. your hands immediately gripping her hands and pull them away from her head, avoiding any injuries that she would cause on herself.

then, upon releasing her hands, you cupped her wet cheeks and held her gently, as if you were scared to be rough with her- and it made her sob more at this fact.

"hanni." you call her name, but you said it in a more comforting and soft way, not wanting to make her feel even more bad for what she couldn't control. your heart ached for her, and you truly know what she's going through.

"hanni..." you breathe shakily, ignoring the pounding on your head as you leaned your forehead against hers. you could smell her minty breath, and feel the sweat from her skin but you didn't care.

you held her close, "hey.. i know you're scared of what happened. i was scared too, for you. when i see you with those guys chasing after you..." your exhale quivered when released from your lips.

"...i just knew what they were thinking. so i just.. did what i have to do." your thumbs, trembling, rubs her cheek as tears continue to fall like waterfall.

her chest was hurting from the loud pounding from her heart, not expecting you to be this.. gentle and soft with her.

"...i know what you were feeling, and i don't want you to go through that again... it can't be avoided exactly, but i want you to be more careful than ever.. it's what we, women, have to do in this unfair world."

she notices the crack on your voice, and glances to see your tears falling as well. and she knows now— how much you understand her, how much you wanted to comfort her, and how much comfort you have truly provided her in this very moment.

her heart skipped a beat.

you made eye-contact with her. you looked even more vulnerable than earlier, and she let out a choke sob once again. "i.. i don't want to feel unsafe here."

you nodded, mumbling words of comfort. "i know, i know." she continues on and on, and you let her reach her limit, letting her cry onto your shoulder as she drops against you.

you held her tight, and she wholeheartedly accepts your warm embrace.

-

"...you left home? why?"

she looked genuine when she asked, and you hoped that she wouldn't make fun of your decision in life. you closed your eyes as you and her laid beside each other on her bed.

"mom is an addict and an abuser. she's crazy. she tries to gaslight me that she loves me very much, and then starts beating the shit out of me as if she's trying to take my lifespan away."

you chuckle nonchalantly, while she gasped in shock. her brows furrowed deeply, "that's... she's a real bitch, then." you turn your head to her as your eyes open, while she grumbles.

you laugh amusedly, nudging her arm with the back of your hand. "she is." your toes curled a bit as the cold breeze from the air conditioner became a bit colder, but you liked it anyways.

"i grew up without a dad ever since i could remember, and she's the only woman i've known in my entire life. i also admit i was being an asshole to some people back then," she snorts, causing you to smile sheepishly.

"but.. i managed to grow up properly, i guess. though, i do remember having a job at the age of 11 then paying my own tuition at school, while she does nothing at home."

she raises her eyebrows, "what job did you have?" she asks, turning to look into your eyes curiously. you gave a small smile and shrugged, "who knows? maybe just a little helper at a small store and whatsoever,"

she pouts at the answer, but lets it go since you probably didn't want to talk about it. "fucked up life for us then. i don't have a mom anymore, and only had my dad and sister."

you listened attentively, liking how pleasing her voice sounds to your ears. it was soft and clear. you listened to her own backstory, closing your eyes.

"we were a happy family, though it wasn't the same when my mom passed away." she sighs, "dad wasn't abusive though, and i'm grateful for that. but he became neglectful to us, and keeps leaving the house for no particular reason."

you grimaced at that, but you made no comment about it.

even so, she smiles. "but that was all. me and my sister weren't hurt and that's enough for me. i managed to get a part-time job too, to provide for myself and my sister— and now, we both are living together in this apartment."

you blinked, "oh. this apartment?" you sniffles, turning to your side to face her. "does that mean she's here too?" to which she responded with a shake of her head.

"nah, she's currently at her friend's house for a sleepover."

"ah.. okay." you bluntly said, causing her to laugh shortly. she turns to you as well, laying on her side and facing towards you. she smiles, and you smiled back.

"...do you believe in fate?"

you blinked naturally before nodding, "i guess i do. why'd you ask?" she continues to smile, fondly almost. "do you think this is a coincidence or a fate? a destiny that we've met?"

at this, you chuckle. "kinda random, i must say." she shrugged and waited for your reply. you hummed as you closed your eyes, "...i guess it is destiny, or.. a miracle for me?"

hanni could've sworn her heart skipped a large beat when you fluttered open your eyes and gave the softest, most damned adorable smile she ever witnessed. her ears reddened.

"o-oh.. why is it a miracle?"

she stuttered, feeling her cheeks burning at your gaze. your smile widens, so does her heart skipping a beat once more. this isn't good.. but it felt so right.

"it was a short encounter, but it felt like everything began to change." you mumbled, and snuggled closer to her bed sheets. "this wouldn't happen at all, if it weren't for a miracle to step in. and make me feel comforted."

you chuckle, "it's just weird. but, i guess i made a new friend today...?" at this, you turn to her and purse your lips. she blinks thrice, before giggling at your cuteness.

"glad you made a new friend, y/n. that friend of yours," she yawns softly, ".. must've been so lucky to meet you too." and the last thing she sees before darkness engulfed her is your warm eyes and smile and a small nod.

"...i'm lucky too."

[lil-frenchfri77]

Begin Again

Summary: Ever since Bella came back to Forks things between y/n and her boys have been different. Embry and Quil stopped answering phone calls and texts, they’ve even been avoiding her everytime she shows up at their house. So y/n does the only thing she can think to do, she latches onto Jacob just like Bella, and when he starts acting like Embry and Quil did, she makes the decision to not put so much effort into a friendship that is clearly one sided. But what happens one day when Sam’s pack is in town at the same time as y/n and her new friends and two certain boys imprint on their former best friend? And what happens when a former best friend doesn’t feel the same way?

Author’s Note: Hello to everyone that is reading this! This is my first ever time writing a fanfic, so (if you’re reading this) go easy on me. I would love to hear any feedback anyone might have in the comments. Super excited to be writing this Twilight fic, I’ve been inspired by others authors on here to take my own spin with Stephaine Myers characters, none of which I have any ownership to. This doesn’t really follow the Eclipse movie timeline, I'm making things up and stretching the timeline. So this is basically my own story just using Stephanie’s characters and some of her themes. There are also some other characters in here that I don’t have any rights to, I just thought it would be fun to put them in this story. I don’t know how long or short this is going to be, I might be able to get my ideas across quickly or this might turn into a few chapters. If you’ve read this far I love you and I really hope you like this!

(Also not beta read cause I can’t afford that)(Dividers from @enchanthings here on Tumblr)

Y/n/n means your nickname 

Embry Call x Fem!Swan!Reader x Quil Ateara

Slight Stiles Stlinski x Reader

Chapter 1 | Master list | Chapter 2

Things had been weird lately, with Bella back in Forks, the Cullens, and your friends on the reservation. It seemed like everyday more and more of your friends were leaving to go hang out with Sam Uley and his pack of assholes. Now it was just down to you, Embry, Quil, and Jacob. It’s not like you’re not fine with that, Embry and Quil were your best friends ever. So you were fine with just the four of you hanging out all the time. But they got so hostile of you whenever Edward or one of his siblings came around to talk to you or Bella. 

It was getting absolutely exhausting trying to mediate things between them. You didn’t want to have to choose between your boys or Bella, but if it came down to it, your choice would always be your family and by extension, the Cullens. Although it seemed like you wouldn’t be getting a choice anyways when Embry and Quil stopped answering your texts and calls. They were never home when you came to visit and see what was happening to them. You had even tried asking Jacob if he knew anything but he swore up and down that he had no idea. 

You never expected to see them hanging out with Sam and his pack, jumping off that stupid cliff. You had never felt more betrayed. They could do whatever they wanted to but it hurt that they felt the need to drop you, without any kind of explanation and go hang out with the few people (at least you thought) you mutually disliked. It was obvious that they weren’t going to talk to you anymore so you did the only thing you could think of, you left them one last voicemail in hopes to get through to them. 

“Hey, it’s me. Um, I know we haven’t talked in a while, but I still miss you guys. I saw you the other day, hanging out with Sam and his boys. It’s fine, I guess. I just thought that we were better friends than that. I mean, we’ve been inseparable since we were 6 but that’s not really the point of why I called.” You took a deep breath, trying to stop yourself from rambling some more. “I don’t really understand why you started hanging out with Sam but you have free will so I can’t stop you. But I miss you guys, and I still want to be friends. I don’t want to permanently lose you both because I can’t get over this petty dislike I have. So, call me back. Please. I want to talk about everything, but if you truly want nothing to do with me anymore then I won’t bother you again. This is goodbye, then.” 

2 months later

Life wasn’t the easiest thing anymore. The boys never called you back, which you expected but it still stung. You still had Jacob, but it wasn’t the same. Jacob knew how much Embry and Quil’s choice had affected you, but there wasn’t much he could do to help you. He couldn’t just tell you that they were werewolves. So he did his best to try and raise your spirits. You were wholeheartedly grateful you had him during this time. 

Bella wasn’t much help either, she had just been broken up with and she was rotting away in her room. It appeared as though life was hating the Swan girls right now. As much as you wanted to wallow in your own pity you knew you had to be there for Bella. It’s not like the kids from school were going to help her, and honestly Bella wouldn’t want them to. So you spent months trying to help Bella, you didn’t want to lose your sister too. 

“Please, Bells. Just talk to me, tell me what’s going on in your head. I’ll do anything to help you, you just have to tell me. Tell me what I can do for you, I want to take all this pain away. I know this isn’t about me or dad but we’re so scared for you Bells. We love you so much.” You plead  with her. Tears welled up in your eyes when she turned away from you and went back to looking out of her window. You walked out of her room before she could see or hear you start to cry. 

“Whoa, slow down there kid. What’s happening?” Charlie stopped you in the hallway. His hands gripped your shoulders as they shook with silent sobs. 

“I can’t watch her wither away like that dad. She’s changing so much, and I don’t know how to help her. I hate Edward for what he’s putting her through and he’s not even here.” You spoke through your tears. Hiccuping in between every breath you took. 

“Y/n,” Charlie whispered, cupping your cheeks and making you look up at him, “We will get her through all of this okay kid? You and me will bring our Bella back. I know it.” He assured you as genuinely as he could. Truth be told, he had no idea if he would be able to get his daughters back to the girls they were before all this happened. He was grateful that you seemed to be okay so soon after the Embry and Quil situation. He didn’t know what he would do if both of his kids were nervous wrecks he couldn’t console. 

You nodded at him instead of answering back. You knew he was just trying to make you feel better. As much as you wanted to stay and keep trying with Bella you had to go to school. You couldn’t miss any more days this week or you would fall too far behind. 

After getting dressed you head downstairs where you say goodbye to your dad and meet Jacob who’s waiting for you outside. Lately he has taken to riding with you to school and then walking back to the reservation afterwards so you weren’t alone in the mornings. It was also a way for him to keep an eye on you and Bella. 

“You know, you don’t have to keep doing this Jake, I’m perfectly okay with getting to school by myself.” You told him today. It has been on your mind for a little while now. 

“I know,” he chuckles, “but I like to. Sometimes I don’t want to be alone in the morning so I make you suffer and force my presence on you. You’re going to have to get used to it.” Jacob simply shrugged. 

You get quiet after that and it worries him, but before he can ask you what’s wrong you beat him to it

“If you ever want to be friends with Sam and everyone else, please don’t cut me off too. I don’t think I could handle that.” Your hands grip the steering wheel tighter as you pull up to a red light. You can’t bring yourself to look over at him, as you not so patiently wait for his answer. 

“Y/n/n, I will never abandon you to be friends with Sam and his pack of douchebags. Okay? It's you and me against the world now.” He says in such a loving tone that it brings tears to your eyes for the second time that day. “Oh god, please don’t cry. I totally didn’t mean for that to happen.” 

Watching him panic while he tries to get you to stop crying does the trick, and you start to giggle at him. The rest of the drive to your school is silent with the occasional sing along moment to whatever is playing on the radio. When you finally arrive at school you're in a much better mood. 

You say goodbye to Jacob and head into the building, putting on your headphones and turning the volume all the way up. Someone knocks into you from the side sending your phone and headphones sliding across the floor. 

“Oh my god. I’m so freaking sorry!” Apologizes spill from the mystery boy's mouth as his friend, the one who pushed him into you, hurries to gather your things. He turns around to his friend on the floor and hisses out “Dude. What the hell??” 

It wasn’t surprising that you had to clue who these boys were. When you were friends with Embry and Quil you didn't really talk to the people you go to school with. “It’s fine.” You shrugged it off, not wanting to create a problem with these two. 

“No, its not fine. I totally didn't mean to smash into you. Scott’s just an asshole.” The boy throws his friend, Scott, under the bus. “I’m Stiles by the way.” 

“I didn't mean to push him into you miss, I didn't even see you there.” Scott pipes in, before quickly realizing what he said. “OH! I didn't mean I didn't see you at all, like you're just hard to see. Cause you’re not hard to miss. Not that you're always in the way! I've never seen you before so… I'm going to stop talking now.” Scott sheepishly tugs at the collar of his shirt. He seems to be sweating now. The incredulous look on your face seems to shut him up well enough for his friend, Stiles, to get a word in. 

“Wow dude, that was bad.” He’s trying to hold back his laughter now. “I think what he's trying to say is that he was so preoccupied with being an asshat that he wasn't paying attention to our surroundings.” Stiles says it a lot more eloquently than Scott had and it makes you giggle. 

They both stare at you like you've grown a second head. “That was the worst apology I have ever heard in my entire life.” You state after getting ahold of your laughter. “I’m y/n. I accept your terrible apology, and it's okay that you haven't seen me around before, because to be honest. I've never seen either of you around before either.” 

They let out a breath of relief and apologize one more time, sounding more coherent and sincere this go around. Scott proceeds to ask you what you have for the first period and surprisingly you have the same class as them, so you all walk to your class talking and getting to know each other. When you get to class you part ways to your seats with plans to meet after class. 

Your class schedules were pretty similar, especially yours and Stiles. In the classes you and Stiles shared you decided to move seats and sit next to each other, getting in trouble a few times for talking too much. You were getting along with him so well that he invited you to sit with him and his friends at lunch. And since you didn't have any other plans you took him up on his offer. 

When lunch time rolls around Stiles follows you to your locker where you get your food before heading to the cafeteria to meet up with his friends. The table quiets down when the two of you approach. “Y/n these are my friends: Lydia, Allison, Issac, Liam, Malia, Kira, and you've already met Scott.” One by one his friends say hello and introduce themselves to you. This wasn’t at all how you thought it was going to go. You assumed that they would only give you a cursory hi and go back to their conversations, but they seemed genuinely interested in getting to know you.

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Back to Here - No Love Lost One Shot

Series Masterlist

Author's Note: One-shot request from the amazing @afroslacks! Title from Shade of Yellow by Griff

Word Count: 1.2k

Summary/Warnings: Takes place in Chapter 14. We once again face the horny fluff.

When you’d told Ben you were okay with him touching you in front of everyone, your exact phrasing was as long as you’re not gross. You’re absolutely positive he’d heard you as well, because he’d rolled his eyes before kissing the words out of your mouth.

But the man doesn’t listen. On purpose. You know it’s on purpose, because usually he’ll grunt and grumble but do what you tell him, and right now he’s not even pretending to remember.

What’s annoying is that you’re not even that mad about it. What’s more annoying is that he knows you’re not mad about it, because he’s not even worried about you making him stop. Ben never pushes your lines to tries try see if he can make you budge, because he knows you won’t and he’ll get in trouble. But that also means he’s impossibly good at knowing what lines aren’t real. What things you tell him to do that you say because sometimes you just say stuff. Sometimes you’re just trying to pretend that you’re not always thirsty for him, don’t always want him at your side.

And the asshole has you figured out. He knows that when you say we’re going to team dinners every night you mean it, but when you say play nice with everyone you’re talking about everyone except Butcher. Ben knows that if you tell him clean up after yourself you’re serious, because that’s the start of it. Ben cleans up once and now, months later, you somehow trust him with your life and every part of you he’ll take. He also knows if you tell him we need to get out of bed he can just hold you tighter and you’ll immediately give in with a sigh.

He knows when you say not everything, not yet it’s important that he listens. That he can take everything else he wants except that, and he does. Ben touches you everywhere you’ll let him, but waits for you to give him the clear to take more.

He knows that when you said don’t be gross you just meant don’t make me visibly horny in front of everyone. Don’t make me grind into you or pin me on top of the table. 

And he is walking that line very precariously.

“Bloody fuckin hell,” Butcher mutters, and you can feel his glare from across the table. “You twats can’t keep it in your pants for one hour? Some of us are tryin to eat.”

“They are still in their pants,” Frenchie’s words are muffled from a mouthful of pasta. “And I am eating just fine.”

“That’s cause you’re a fuckin pervert, Mate.” Butcher snaps. “I didn’t come here to see two supes neckin like teenagers. I came here because Hughie gets all bloody puppy faced when I don’t.”

“You promised-“

Butcher cuts Hughie off with a scoff. “I’m here, ain’t I? And I would appreciate it if I could fuckin eat my shitty ass spaghetti without worryin that Soldier Boy’s gonna cum all over the table!”

A chorus of groans echoes through the room, and it’s almost enough to make you push Ben away.

Almost. But he drops his mouth to your neck, pulls you closer in his side, and you decide you can find a way to live with yourself.

You’re starting to worry that he can read your mind. Because before that brief hesitation even fades, Ben sucks the skin at the base of your throat once—sloppy and wet—and pulls away. You’re grateful, half because you can bury your flushed face in his shoulder as he gives Butcher a lazy grin, and half because you were getting dangerously close to climbing on top of him.

“It’s not our fault all you pussies have blue balls.” Ben drawls, and you kick him under the table, glaring up at his stupid, smug, handsome face.

Don’t be an ass.

He rolls his eyes. They’re being fucking prudes.

Benjamin.

“You two care to have this conversation out loud?” You turn to see MM looking at you with a bored expression. He’s never really pissed about this anymore, and you think he just gave up on being disgusted. He doesn’t like it, but he’s not mad. It’s honestly more than you could ask for.

“No.”

You whack Ben’s arm. “Sorry. We’ll stop.”

Ben scoffs, and hunches over his plate. His arm over your shoulders drops down, tugging you into his side so you can only move your hands—everything past that trapped against his body—and you don’t care. He’s touching you, and he’s warm, and you can feel his annoyance but it’s nothing compared to his desire. It’s nothing compared to the affection you can feel rush through him when you give him a smile, even if he just grunts and glares at his pasta like it’s the one that cock-blocked him.

You know it’s a lie. You might not lie to Ben, but you lie a lot to your team. You lie to Hughie when you say you like certain Billy Joel songs because you don’t want him to gape at you and try to convince you otherwise. You lie to Frenchie when you say you’d love nothing more than to hear about his latest supe-killing weapon, because he gets really excited—it’s kind of adorable—and sometimes it’s actually pretty interesting. You lie to Annie when she picks you up for lunch and asks—every time without fail—what’s going on between you and Ben. You say it’s complicated, but it’s not. It’s actually really simple: You want Ben more than you’ve ever wanted anything and he wants you but not like that, just as a friend he can fuck. And that kills you a little, so you’re trapped in this limbo where Ben can almost make you moan at the dinner table—but you won’t let him just carry you back to your bed and make you scream and fall apart under him—and Annie can give her a look that tells you she knows. She knows you won’t stop doing this. There won’t be more tonight, because Butcher’s still glaring at you and Hughie’s whole face looks like a tomato, but tomorrow the exact same thing will almost certainly happen. Ben will kiss you once, innocently enough if you’d only seen it in passing, and you’ll taste him, you'll feel the want pounding in his chest, and immediately pull him closer. The absolute fucking asshole always anticipates you keeping yourself against him—he plans on it—and his arm will immediately move over your shoulders, hand reaching your jaw to angle your head where he wants it. And then he’ll go and go and go until someone coughs—Hughie or Annie—or makes a remark—Butcher or MM—and he finds whatever line you have for the day. Then he’ll pull back and you have to pretend you’re fine with it. Like your pouting is because he’s being cocky and annoying and not because you wish he would pick you up and lay you on the table. 

It’ll happen the after as well, then again after that, then every night until Butcher either shoots one of you or you figure out a way to just attach Ben to you forever. 

End Note: They really can make any situation horny. Also if you've noticed I'm re-using gifs, yeah :( I am. Please sign my petition to make Jensen Ackles just do stuff in character so we can have more gifs.

If you like this story, reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

If you want to be tagged, just ask!

Taglist

@manicjk @lordofthunderthr @artemys-ackles

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

I really don't think there's enough fics involving butt stuff with The Ghoul. He defo strikes me as the type who fingers your asshole while fucking you from behind just to watch you squirm. It's like a dominance thing for him when you've been disobedient, but you'll never admit how much you love being his submissive little slut. Are readers and writers just not into it? Or have I just been looking in the wrong places?

To comment: from what I've seen in the years I've been consuming and writing erotic fan content, stuff that involves anal does, in fact, seem to be weirdly polarizing (depending entirely on the writer and the audience you're publishing to, of course). I'm not entirely sure whether that's due to writers' own personal taste, audience preference, stigma...a combination of factors? It's definitely a phenomenon I've noticed. I also wonder if there isn't just a contingent of folks who have no experience with anal and therefore no interest in it.

Personally, I try to incorporate lots of different tastes and "moves" into my work, and I think the people that subscribe to this blog have come to expect that. Butt stuff is nowhere near the most potentially scarring thing I've exposed y'all to, and will continue to not be. :)

However, at the same time, when I feature actual anal sex in any of my stuff, I try to be at least somewhat tactful and depict is as a realistic sex act, which can be kind of a task sometimes when you're trying to be both erotic and not completely impossible. Poorly written anal scenes both aren't hot and kinda ruin the vibe of the entire work, in my opinion. I think there's a difference between "suspension of reality for sexual fantasy" and "spreading bad sex ed information through fiction". There's certainly a place for pain play/painal type stuff, but there's also a place for the complete opposite. It's a bit intimidating for me when I write it sometimes; maybe some others feel the same, so they don't write it as often compared to other things? Complete conjecture.

To answer your actual ask:

You're absolutely right. That motherfucker absolutely loves making you squirm by giving you pleasure in ways that gross you out. He sees a sliver of his old self in you, himself when he was new to this ghastly world, when he clung desperately to anything that would give him a sense of normalcy. In this, there's a sick thrill for him; he gets to be the one to show you how things really work, his sheltered little vaultie. The world out here is even meaner and more disgusting than you could ever imagine.

He'll prove it.

You aren't inexperienced, but pretty much all of the experience you do have is vanilla, very straightforward sex. Exploration on this topic isn't exactly at the forefront of your mind, either, what with how much of an adjustment period you're having to go through after leaving home for the first time in your life. The stress of it all is what initially drives you into his arms, seeking any form of real comfort you can find from the only companion you have.

The sex is a good stress reliever when he isn't springing things on you. He is rather good for such a hot-and-cold old prick, and he clearly knows it by his demeanor; the way he preens over your crumpled form after he makes you cum so hard you forget how to speak is infuriating. You like fucking him, but you can't let him know just how much. He'd be genuinely insufferable if he found out.

Whether it's your reserved reactions to his obvious smugness, or something else internal, you're unsure, but he quickly begins to push your buttons for bigger and bigger returns. Most of the tricks he pulls you enjoy the feeling of, but the way he watches you to gauge your reaction makes it feel like he's winning, somehow, and it doesn't sit right with you. Doubling down your efforts, you try your hardest to be unshakable.

Unfortunately, the first time he slides his tongue down to tease at your asshole while he's eating you out makes you fold completely.

"That's disgusting!" you huff, wriggling beneath him. Telling him to stop doesn't follow like you want it to; the words get caught in your throat as he pushes the tip of the wriggling muscle into you, his other hand playing softly with your clit as your aching pussy throbs.

"Had my tongue much worse places, believe me." he replies, his eyes burning up at you from between your legs. It's so embarrassing.

However, the next time he's helping you out, before you even realize it, your hips are moving in a pronounced arc, trying your best to will him to slide his tongue further down without having to suffer the indignity of asking for it, of him knowing he's gotten this over on you. It feels amazing and you refuse to beg. Fortunately, he doesn't make you...this time.

When he's finished with you, he doesn't immediately pull away, both of you lying together in a spent puddle of limbs for a breathless moment.

"It's still gross, you know." you say, flat and halfhearted in exhaustion.

"Oh, shut the fuck up." he grunts back, eyes rolling as he pulls himself into an upright sitting position. "I didn't see you whining when you were tryin' to crush my head with your thighs, princess."

"I can't help it! It tickles when you do that!" you argue, indignant and searing hot in the face.

"Oh yeah, kid. I bet it tickles real good. That why you came so hard?" he smirks, leaning back so he can right his clothing, his eyes never leaving yours. You pull yourself up and storm off to the other side of the room to redress, annoyed.

And yes, probably his favorite overall move is to sneak one of his fingers or his thumb into your ass while he fucks you from behind; the shock in your posture, in your voice, along with the tight, hot feeling of your little hole (holes) around him...it's probably for the best that he can't see your face, no matter how badly he wishes he could. He knows he'd cum instantly.

As for you, the feeling is infuriatingly electrifying, right on the line between pleasure and discomfort. His long, nimble digit isn't even all the way inside you, only sunk to just above the second knuckle, but he's quickly working it further and further in, the rest of his hand curling to cup the roundness of your cheek as he supports your hips. The stretch isn't too intrusive, but his skin is so rough in texture that it makes you squirm as he presses on, spit and your other body fluids the only lubrication you're given.

"Fuck, be careful!" you hiss. His only response is a harsh swat to your bare ass with his unoccupied hand, which draws a yelp from your parched throat as he yanks you back even more firmly by the leverage he now has. Your hands scramble for purchase across the sandy desert floor, unable to hold yourself up properly as he hammers away at you with an almost possessed vigor. Quickly, your head falls further down with the force of his movements, sending you sliding forward a few inches.

He doesn't like that.

"Don't fuckin' run from me." he growls, the hand that isn't spearing you wrapping quickly around your shoulder to yank you back again. His hips snap into yours viciously, the pace increasing as he loses his grip on whatever remaining self-control he has. Your battered cunt clenches hard around him at the feeling, at his words, and soon you're both howling out your release as he digs his nails into your thighs, rutting you so hard you fully face-plant into the ground. When it's over, he at least has the courtesy to make sure you didn't bump your head too hard. He does not, however, apologize for the massive bruise on your ass from where he struck you more than once. Typical.

Eventually, you allow him enough control to restrain you, which you know is almost certainly a mistake. However, by now you're addicted to the feeling he gives you when he takes over, when he pushes your boundaries and uses you to sate whatever passion burns inside him. Besides, he's protected and saved you enough times by now to have earned your trust, even if you know that he'll sometimes use it against you for devious reasons.

The rope he always carries doesn't hurt against your skin like you'd feared it would, but he's also quite delicate in how he secures your arms and legs, each limb immobilized and leaving you on your back, completely at his mercy. He spends forever teasing you, worshiping every part of you with his mouth and hands until you're begging, begging for release, begging for him to stretch you.

"It's alright. I'll take care of you." he promises, the tone he uses with you now so much softer than when you met. You feel relief at his words, ready to feel your aching cunt wrap around him, but he doesn't move to expose himself. Instead, he produces a small bottle of what you quickly discover is some sort of neutral oil, which he applies liberally. The feeling of the cool, thin substance running down your folds makes you shiver in the best way, but you're tense when his teasing fingers move from your clit, prodding at your taut ass.

Slowly, he works his middle finger inside you, the sensation more pleasant now that you've become accustomed to it. After a minute or two, he's moving it back and forth freely, adding another dribble of oil before setting the bottle aside, placing his free fingers on your clit. The way he rubs at you as he fucks you with his other hand makes your toes curl, and you get lost in the sensation until you feel his index finger start to prod at you, as well.

"You trust me?" he asks. Your eyes dropping closed, you nod silently.

He's incredibly gentle as he works the second finger in alongside the first, stretching you further than ever before and making your mouth fall open in a silent groan. He watches your face, your body language, closely, trying his best to stay calm and steady as he begins to move his hand once more, the other never stilling on your clit.

The sensation is incredibly overwhelming, a fullness you've never felt before, especially when he eventually adds a third finger. Your body is lit up with sensation and twitching eagerly the entire time, both wanting to pull off of his hand and to plunge yourself down further. When he leans down and seals his lips around your clit, you scream out an orgasm that leaves you trembling against your restraints, which he actually lets you out of before fucking you so hard you literally cannot stand immediately afterwards.

"You're so mean to me, you know. I don't want to like this stuff." you sigh, mostly joking.

"Don't worry, I'll have you begging for my cock in your ass soon." he promises, that wicked glint back in his eye that makes you nervous.

You hide your burning face in his throat as he chuckles at you, the sound of him lighting a cigarette snapping through the air, his other arm wrapped around your waist as you lean against him. Biting your tongue, you hold back the urge to snarkily respond to him.

You know he's right. It's only a matter of time.

[stnkiconverse]

you're going to do it, and you're getting away with it. you know that.

Ch.10 - Still Here.

⇠Previous

Next⇢

genre: psychological horror (in a way), creepypasta, supernatural thriller (in a way)

pairing: Jeff The Killer x Reader

WC: 2.5k

content warnings: echoes in the static contains scenes and themes that may be disturbing or triggering to some readers, including: graphic violence and murder, mental illness and psychological distress, suicide and self-harm, domestic abuse, cannibalism and strong language.

Reader discretion is advised.

Yes this has to do with Creepypastas. Yes, Creepypastas will pop up and make appearances, it's basically a reader insert into the Creepypasta word.

do not repost my work anywhere, I only post in Tumblr.

When you wake up, it's 5 PM. The light outside your window is fading, casting long shadows across your room. You sit up slowly, feeling groggy and disoriented. The dreams you had were twisted and strange, filled with static and whispers, leaving you with a sense of unease that clings to your skin.

You drag yourself out of bed and into the living room, trying to shake off the heaviness in your limbs. The first thing you notice is Jeff’s hoodie, carelessly tossed over the back of the couch, the bloodstains on it still dark and dried. Your frustration flares up immediately, knowing he’s still around.

You scan the room and see him standing in the kitchen. He’s shirtless, wearing just his black jeans, his scarred torso on full display as he rummages through the fridge. A carton of milk is in his hand, and he’s drinking straight from it.

"Are you serious?" you snap, your irritation spilling over. Jeff turns slowly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his grin already stretching across his face.

"Morning, Petal," he says, completely unfazed by your anger.

"Why aren’t you gone?" you demand, stepping toward him.

"I already told you," he shrugs, leaning against the counter with the milk carton still in his hand. "I’m not leaving until I’m satisfied."

You roll your eyes and march over to him, snatching the carton out of his hand. "And what the hell does that even mean?" You shove the milk back into the fridge, slamming the door with more force than necessary.

Jeff’s eyes follow your movements, his grin never wavering. "You’ll find out soon enough," he says casually, leaning back on the counter, arms crossed. "Relax, Petal."

"Stop calling me that," you growl, turning away from him.

"You leave petals at every scene, don’t you? It fits," he says, his tone laced with mockery.

You glare at him, the mention of the person you really are making you tense, but don’t bother responding. You’re too tired, too frustrated to keep going back and forth with him. You grab your phone and sink onto the couch, scrolling through your apps, trying to find something to distract yourself from his presence.

Jeff, of course, doesn’t let you. Before you can even blink, he snatches your phone right out of your hands.

“What’s this?” he taunts, holding it just out of reach. “Got any dirty secrets in here?”

“Give it back,” you snap, lunging for it, but he dodges easily, his laugh grating on your nerves.

“No nudes, huh? That’s a shame.”

“Jeff!” you shout, swinging at him. You manage to hit his shoulder, but it only makes him grin wider.

In your frustration, you lunge at him again, but this time, Jeff catches your wrist, pulling you down on top of him. You end up straddling him, knees pressed into the cushions of the couch, and for a second, neither of you move.

Jeff looks up at you, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Comfortable?” he murmurs, his hands resting on your hips.

You feel a flush creep up your neck and scramble off of him, grabbing your phone and muttering, “You’re such an asshole.”

He lets out a low chuckle as you storm into your room, slamming the door behind you. Leaning against it, you take a few deep breaths, trying to shake off the strange tension that lingers in the air.

---

You pull on a hoodie and head for the shower, hoping the heat will help clear your mind. The steam fills the small bathroom, and you stand under the spray for a long time, letting the water wash away the frustration. But no matter how hard you try to relax, the image of Jeff’s smug grin keeps resurfacing.

By the time you step out of the shower, you’ve made up your mind to go out. You need space—real space—and maybe even a release for the tension that’s been building inside you.

After dressing, you head out into the living room again, where Jeff is lounging lazily on the couch. He doesn’t say anything, but you can feel his eyes following you as you grab your keys and head toward the door.

“Where’re we going?” Jeff asks, and you freeze, knowing he has no intention of letting you go alone.

“You’re not coming,” you say flatly, grabbing a jacket and pulling it on.

“Sure I am,” he replies, pulling on his shoes before standing up and stretching. "I haven’t had my fun yet."

You don’t bother arguing with him. You just head out the door, and Jeff falls into step beside you.

His jacket discarded back at your apartment, now wearing his tank top, and one of your black surgical masks he reluctantly put on after you forced him to.

---

The grocery store is dimly lit, its fluorescent lights flickering as you walk through the aisles. You keep your head down, focusing on what you need—bread, milk, a few cans of soup, the essentials.

Jeff, on the other hand, makes no effort to blend in. He saunters behind you, his hood up but doing nothing to hide the scars that twist across his arms, neck and torso. People stare openly, their eyes widening in a mix of horror and confusion when they catch sight of him. A young woman pushing a cart with her child practically runs to another aisle the moment she sees him.

A group of teenagers snicker nervously as Jeff walks past them, but their laughter quickly dies when Jeff shoots them a cold, calculating look. You glance over at him, but he just shrugs, clearly enjoying the reactions.

"You're really something, aren't you?" you mutter under your breath as you grab a loaf of bread.

"You noticed?" Jeff smirks, leaning against a shelf and watching you with a lazy interest.

The woman at the checkout counter is visibly shaking as she scans your items, her hands fumbling as she bags your groceries. She doesn’t say a word, her eyes flicking nervously between you and Jeff.

You scoff, obviously done. And walk out of the store, nothing in hand.

---

When you get back home, you slide a large knife from the kitchen and tuck it into your hoodie pocket. Jeff doesn’t notice—he’s too busy rummaging through whatever the fuck is left in your fridge, like it’s the most fascinating thing.

You slip back into your room and quietly open the window, climbing out into the cold night air. The darkness is thick, the streets empty as you move swiftly toward the edge of town, where the forest begins to loom just beyond the streetlights.

You don’t know the forest well, but it’s secluded, and that’s all you need. As you make your way deeper into the shadows, you spot a man stumbling out of a nearby bar. He’s drunk, barely able to stand straight.

Perfect.

You approach him with a smile, your voice soft and inviting. "Hey, you look lost. Need some help?"

The man blinks at you, his eyes glassy. "Yeah... yeah, sure. That’d be... that’d be great."

You guide him away from the bar, toward the entrance of the forest. It’s dark, the trees casting long shadows, but you don’t go too far in. You stop just at the edge, where the streetlights can barely reach.

When the man turns to face you, confused by the sudden stop, you strike. The knife slices through his throat in one clean motion, blood spilling out in a hot spray. He chokes, eyes wide with shock, but it’s over quickly. His body crumples to the ground, and you stand over him, breathless, the familiar rush flooding your veins.

You don’t linger. You leave the body at the edge of the forest, a petal from the red spider lily tucked beside him like a signature. You don’t dare go deeper into the trees, not when you don’t know the way yet.

---

By the time you get back to your apartment, your clothes are splattered with blood, and the weight of the kill is settling into your bones. You strip off your clothes and toss it aside, heading straight for the shower. The hot water washes the blood from your skin, but it doesn’t wash away the feeling—the satisfaction, the calm that comes after the storm.

After drying off, you collapse into bed, your mind heavy with the events of the night. Exhaustion pulls you under, and for a few hours, you’re lost in a deep, dreamless sleep.

---

It’s around 3 AM when you wake up suddenly, the sound of voices pulling you from the darkness. You sit up, groggy and disoriented, blinking in the dim light of your room.

You hear the voices again—low, murmuring from the living room.

Creeping toward the door, you crack it open just enough to peek out. Jeff is standing near the front door, talking to two men. They’re both dressed in yellow—one in a hoodie, the other in a jacket. Their faces are covered, but their conversation sends a chill down your spine.

“This is taking too long,” the one in the jacket says, his voice rough. “He wants her there.”

Your heart skips a beat. Her. They’re talking about you.

The other man nods. “We’re running out of time.”

You lean against the door, your mind racing. But then the floor beneath you creaks, and all three heads snap toward you.

Your breath catches in your throat as Jeff’s eyes lock onto yours. There's a flicker of amusement in his expression.

Without thinking, you slam the door shut and twist the lock, your heart pounding in your chest. The silence on the other side is thick and suffocating.

Who is 'he'?

You freeze, your heart pounding so hard it feels like it might burst from your chest. The conversation outside your door sinks in—the cryptic, disturbing words circling in your mind.

“He wants her there.”

You know they’re talking about you. But the who, the why—it’s all a mystery wrapped in layers of fear and confusion. Your breathing quickens as you press your back against the wall, willing yourself to remain calm.

What now?

A voice from the other side of the door breaks the silence. It’s Jeff, his tone low and almost amused. “... What are you doing?”

You can’t bring yourself to answer, the cold fear settling in your stomach like a stone. You hear a soft chuckle, and then Jeff speaks again, this time more insistent. “Open the door.”

You remain frozen in place, torn between the urge to open it and the desire to stay hidden in the relative safety of your room. Your hand hovers over the lock, your mind screaming at you not to let him in, not to trust him, but there’s something more than fear gnawing at you now—curiosity. You need answers, and despite every warning sign flashing in your head, you know Jeff has them.

The silence stretches out, thick and heavy. Finally, you hear the other two men speak, their voices barely more than whispers. It’s impossible to make out what they’re saying, but you catch a few words—time, orders, patience.

Jeff sighs, clearly frustrated, before his voice takes on a sharper edge. “This would be a lot easier if you didn’t eavesdrop, you know?”

You glare at the door, clenching your fists. He always knows how to needle you, always trying to push your buttons, and right now you don’t have the patience for his games. But before you can respond, there’s a shift in the energy outside. You hear footsteps, the two men moving away from the door, and the front door of your apartment clicks shut softly. They’ve left.

For a long moment, you stand there in the suffocating quiet, waiting for something—anything—to happen. You can hear your own breathing, shallow and fast, mixing with the faint hum of static that still lingers at the edge of your hearing. It’s there again—the Operator’s presence, always just on the edge of your awareness.

Then, a soft knock at the door. You jump, your body tense, but it’s just Jeff. You can tell by the laziness in the knock, like he’s not even worried.

“I’ll explain. Just open the door, Y/N.”

You hesitate for a moment, every instinct screaming at you not to trust him. But what other choice do you have? Slowly, you unlock the door and pull it open, just a crack. Jeff’s face greets you, that infuriating smirk plastered across his lips, but his eyes are serious—dark and focused.

“See? That wasn’t so hard,” he says, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

You glare at him, folding your arms over your chest. “Who the hell were they? And what the hell was that about?”

Jeff runs a hand through his messy hair, the cocky grin fading slightly as he leans against the wall. “You’re in the thick of it now, Petal. That wasn’t some random encounter earlier. The Operator—he—has plans for you. You’re part of something bigger.”

Your stomach tightens at the mention of the Operator again. “What does that mean? Why me?”

Jeff shrugs, looking almost bored. “I mean, you decided to become a serial killer, so that’s that. I’m not exactly in the loop when it comes to his grand designs. But those two guys? They work for him too. Guess they’re just here to check up on things, make sure you’re... cooperating.”

“Cooperating with what?” you ask, the frustration building inside you again. “I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t ask for any of this.”

“Yeah, well, tough shit,” Jeff replies, blunt and unbothered. “Once the Operator sets his sights on someone, you don’t get a choice. You’re in it whether you like it or not.”

You sink onto the edge of the bed, your head spinning. This can’t be happening. You thought your life was already screwed up, but now it feels like you’ve been dragged into something darker, something far beyond your control. The Operator wants you, but for what? What role do you play in all of this? What the hell even is an Operator?

Jeff watches you quietly for a moment, his usual sarcasm taking a backseat as he studies your expression. His eyes flicker with something... softer, almost like concern, but it’s gone as quickly as it appeared. “Look,” he says, his voice a little quieter now, “You’ve got me, and I’m not going anywhere.”

You scoff, shaking your head. “I don’t know you, Jeff. And I’m just supposed to trust you?”

He leans closer, a sly grin tugging at his lips again. “Whether you like it or not, I’m all you’ve got. You might as well get used to me.”

You stare at him for a long moment, trying to read him, but Jeff is as unreadable as ever. His grin never falters, but there’s something in his eyes—something darker, deeper, that makes you uneasy.

Finally, you let out a long breath, the tension in your shoulders easing just a little. “Fine,” you mutter.

”Also,” He stops in his tracks, we’re going back to the grocery store tomorrow, there’s nothing to eat in this fuckin’ place.”

“There literally is.”

“There are ingredients in your fridge, not already made food, do i look like i want to make food? Fuck that.”

As he leaves your room, you feel the weight of everything pressing down on you—the Operator, the men in yellow, the unknown future hanging over your head. You’re in the thick of it now, and there’s no going back.

But for now, at least, you have a little bit of time. Time to figure out your next move. Time to understand what’s coming.

And as you lie back in bed, trying to ignore the faint static still lingering in your ears, you can’t shake the feeling that your life is no longer your own.

All i can say for my absence is: College 👍 (also im planning out an ARG with my best friend so that’s been keeping me busy too)

BY THE WAY THIS CHAPTER WAS SUPPOSED TO GO WAYYY DIFFERENTLY BUT I GOT TIRED 😭

TAGLIST - OPEN (comment to be added)

🏷️: @mimmickmouse @stranger-of-the-internet @akashic06072007 @hey-an-original-url

[cowboy-robooty]

Okay. listen to me. sit down, boy. If you read this youre reading the whole mf thing because i will sound crazy for half of it and then itll all tie together alright. Listen, this is my explanation of the switzerland's crush on germany allegations. This all started because of that one scene where Austria was all like "I guess Germany's asshole isn't all that cozy" and Switzerland just blushed and couldn't say anything else. I have taken cell samples from this clip and under electron microscopy, found that there is a whole extra chapter in the hetalia bible to be found here. So we all know about Switzerland's weird feelings about his and austria's past friendship. It is a whole other thing that I won't get into and also don't feel 1000% confident on yet, but currently personally see it as switzerland desiring friendship again and Maybe it is gay. Not 100% sure, but it's possible (for some reason my gut instinct says no though). Anyways, I think switzerland has a subconcious crush on germany. Germany's entire thing is that he is objectively one of, if not THE most reasonable nations. He is unironically a very good guy and that's why its comical that everybody fucking hates him. Switzerland's entire deal is that he's INSANELY NORMAL and because of that I think it would be really funny if he had a crush on Germany because it's like... well a normal person would probabaly like him the most irl since Germany's the most reliable and least insane. But see this crush is subconcious because switzerland does not hang out with germany ever because the guy surrounds himself with pyschopaths (everyone else). They just don't interact outside of trading only because their lifestyles dont mix and because of that, the seed of switzerlands crush on germany never can sprout. It's currently planted in nitrogen deficient soil found within the Sahara desert. This crush is still real and true though ok, it just never will become something that switzerland is aware of because he doesnt think about gay shit on his free time and never chills with germany enough to get a boner. But I think like if Germany and switzerland were trapped in Alcatraz for 30 years there is like a 20-40% chance switzerlands crush would finally have the resources it needs to blossom. Thats the only way it could work though. Unless those conditions are met, switzerland will continue to hold a subconcious crush on germany that makes him able to stay hard when he accidentally has a fleeting thought about the guy while trying to jerk off, but isn't something that is recognized enough to make him able to seek out germany because the wall of pyschopaths he hangs out with is too much to deal with.

[arthur-lesters-uvula]

Pisscourse drabble inspired by this

Not beta or proofread, btw. it's a shitpost

Arthur was simply trying to take his natural human function and pee. He was staring off into space, letting the fluid flow out of him and into the bowl when he felt something touching his leg. Instinctively, he jolts, moving his body away.

He stops peeing and looks down. He spots a hand, a fair skinned scard hand reaching out to him. It was John, what in the hell does he want. Arthur bats the hand away and asks.

"What, John?"

"...Can you hold my hand." It sounded like more of a demand than a question.

Arthur blinks, looking at the stall wall that separates him and John.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes."

"Why."

"It's...scary and feels werid, I don't know how you humans dealt with having this fluid come out of you every day." John says and flexes his hand in a grabbing motion, like a baby wanting to get picked up.

John was like a needy cat, but he never liked doing things alone, including when it came to using the bathroom.

Arthur sighs and places his hand in John's, holding it snug.

"Better?"

"Much."

John says before Arthur hears a concerningly loud stream of piss hit the bowl.

He furrows his brows, "Just how long have you been holding that?"

John's pointer finger twitches, curling itself inward and scratches at the others palm.

"Since I got this body -" a lie.

John sheepishly admits, and Arthur aggressively squeezes his hand.

"What?! How the hell did you not piss on yourself—christ John it's been over a week."

John lets out a full-body shudder and tucks his feet under the toilet seat. His boots dig into the dirty tile floor.

"Okay - not really. The first time was a few days ago when it hurt too much to hold. I washed the clothes and succeeded." John spits out. It was more of a half truth when Oscar found him using fabric softener instead of actual detergent. Oscar actually helped clean and showed him how to wash the clothes properly.

John made(threatened)Oscar swear that he'd never speak a word of this.

"Am I going to have to fucking potty train you? Bloody hell John."

John lets out a werid, sad sound. Something between a dog like whimper and a sigh.

Arthur squeezes his hand once more, gently this time. "Well, it was probably bound to happen eventually. Just do your business and make sure you wipe yourself after." Just like his touch, the tone of Arthur's voice was soft. It reminded John of how he'd talk about Faroe.

John hums and stays silent, the sound of his piss hitting the water echo throughout the bathroom.

Arthur inturn also continues. Thankfully, there's not much left, so he finishes up quickly.

Awkwardly reaching across the stall with his opposite hand, he grabs a thing of toilet paper and rips a small peice off. He dabs the head of his dick with the paper before throwing it into the bowl and flushing.

He hears Johns flow turn into a tirckle before it stops completely. He stays on the toilet seat as he's still holding onto John's hand.

"You done?"

John nods, for a second forgetting thst Arthur can, in fact, not see him before he speaks up.

"I think so? I still feel weird, though..." He trails off. There's something pressing up against his asshole.

Arthur quirks a brow, "Werid how?"

"It feels like something is trying to escape me. There's pressure at my asshole."

Arthur stutters for a second, unable to form sentences in response. There is no way in fucking hell is he going to hold an eldritch entities hand as he shits.

"You're...going number two, taking shit."

"Oh.. Oh. Like that disgusting thing you did?"

"Yup. Now, I unfortunately am not generous enough to sit through this one with you. Just keep pushing until everything is out, John."

Arthur prys his hand away from John's, pulling his boxers and trousers up. Arthur buttons his trousers and fastens his belt.

"But Orthur... I can't do this alone." John whines, attempting to grab Arthur's trouser leg.

"You can, and you will. I'll be outside when you're done, John." Arthur moves away before John could grab him, opening the stall door he makes his way to the sink. He secretly prays that there's no one else coming in.

"Orthur! That's not fair. I need emotional support."

John kicks his feet out and leans back uncomfortably. The pressure is growing stronger.

Arthur begins to wash his hands, ignoring John's pleas and hums a tune.

"How about I send Noel in, hm? I'm sure he'd be more than willing." Arthur offers, John and Noel are close just like them, so it shouldn't be a problem. Hopefully.

John stops his movements, sharp canines bitting at his lips.

"Okay. That's fine. Please tell him to hurry."

Arthur huffs out a muffled laugh and steps out of the bathroom.

thank you to my platonic soulmates @arthur-lesters-tits & @arthur-lesters-slutty-waist for fuelling this. I appreciate you both greatly

[mymarifae]

yesterday someone on strawpage asked me what made me go from a dr. ratio hater to a dr. ratio enjoyer and that response took me. four hours . to put together. so you know what i'm going to share my thoughts here too. here's why i like this ⬇️ jackass a lot now!!!!!!!!!!!

he's a tricky character! the first interactions we get with him are so off-putting and unpleasant that i feel like a lot of people are like "wow, this guy is a self-absorbed dick, i don't respect him at all. can he go away" - i know that was my reaction! and he IS a dick. but like. listen.

it's really, really, REALLY easy to misconstrue 90% of his words and actions. it doesn't help that he has the speech patterns of a haughty asshole. and it alsooooooo doesn't help that aventurine's stunt in penacony required orchestrating a "betrayal" between himself and ratio. i think some of the things ratio said during All That constitutes the bulk of most people's persisting dislike of him. So:

1. everything ratio did and said was exactly what aventurine asked him to. this was all pre-negotiated. i think aventurine's insecurities acting up and the way he started doubting whether ratio was truly just acting threw some people off as well, but there is plentyyyyyy of evidence that no, ratio does not hate him and was not waiting for the perfect opportunity to stab him in the back and rid himself of this "damned gambler" but i'll get more into that in a sec ok? i have another bullet point to make first. and it's important so read it carefully ok? promise?

2. any comments from ratio pertaining to aventurine's race were said to fuel the narrative SUNDAY was building in his head probably from the second he learned which ipc executive would be coming to penacony.

aventurine's plan hinged on sunday's prejudice. he needed sunday to think of him as a liar, a cheat, a silver-tongued honeypot - basically, every avgin stereotype floating around in the universe. he needed to invoke a sense of insult. how could someone so... despicable invade the family's sweet dream? he needed sunday to be so wound up over his presence in penacony that he couldn't resist the urge to put The Vile Avgin back in his place. idk THIS ("this" being the real world parallels of how the catholic church ethnically cleansed the rroma during the 16th and 17th centuries) is a whooooole issue in itself that i don't have the time to go into rn because we're supposed to be talking about dr. ratio. oops

anyway the important thing to understand is that ratio absolutely does not look down upon aventurine's heritage. he was acting, with aventurine's blessing, to feed into sunday's biases. and he wasn't even good at it 😭... like look at this exchange from 2.0:

one snarky comment from aventurine and his ass is immediately Apologizing. his ass that's supposed to be acting like he doesn't respect or like aventurine At All. in fact, aventurine's "even under the watchful eye of the harmony..." comment feels a liiiiittle pointed lol. it's a subtle warning to ratio! like, "hey, dumbass, did you forget we're being monitored at all times?? knock it off."

and like this isn't even the only time ratio breaks character and puts aventurine's plan in jeopardy. he learns nothing from this interaction because it's worse next time. lmao:

this stupid fuckignb note. is extremely significant in manyyyy ways so we have to talk about it. first of all, stopping to check on aventurine's condition and to say "tell me if you can't hold on any longer" RIGHT IN FRONT OF SUNDAY (basically, since the family was monitoring everything and a few minutes later we see one of gopher wood's birds hanging out in that general area)?? BRO

if he wanted to, this brief interaction would have been enough for sunday to call their bluff. and aventurine knew that; many of his lines here feel like attempts to redirect ratio into picking the act back up and to stop trying to help him.

next, the stupid fuckignb note's contents. yes yes the second half is very sweet and it's all anyone ever wants to talk about and i understand because it probably meant the world to aventurine especially in that moment but i need you to look at the first half

ratio gave aventurine the answer..? he. gave him the answer. you might be wondering why this matters at all and i'll just have to redirect you to his actions in 1.6, wherein he notably refused to give any answers and let asta, stelle, and like everyone else on the space station flounder, learn from their floundering, and - ultimately - Grow

ratio is a teacher through and through. if someone isn't one of those "geniuses" he wants nothing to do with, they're a potential student in his eyes. and everything that happened in mundane troubles was the space station's final exam, so to speak. his inaction wasn't out of cruelty or because he didn't care about the fate of all the people on the station - obviously he did, because he was the one using the phase flame to teleport the missing researchers to safety...

he posited himself as a safety net in case things went horribly terribly wrong, but he left most of it up to stelle and asta, because he believed in them. they had all the information they needed; they just needed to figure out how to utilize it. and if they failed, well... they had their safety net, and failure is a learning experience too. like, ratio wants people to learn. he wants them to have all the skills and knowledge they could possibly need to take charge of their lives.

the "geniuses" of the world, the head honchos, the impossibly rich 0.0001%? whatever you want to call them, there's always this Upper Level in society that can do things "ordinary" people can never dream of doing. their way of life is simply unattainable. ratio disagrees. he believes that anyone can do anything, if someone would only take the time to teach them. and he's chosen to be one of those teachers! instead of sitting on his ass and just theorizing about a better, fairer society, he's doing what he can to make a difference.

(not so self-centered after all, huh?)

so like. when you remember how much of a teacher ratio is, like this is a philosophy ingrained in his very bone marrow, it's a pretty big fucking deal that he just GAVE aventurine the answer he needed. it shows how concerned he was! and how guilty he felt about the part he had to play!!!! his words and actions were so far removed from his actual thoughts and feelings that he literally HAD to put the whole operation at risk to remind aventurine that he doesn't view him the same way sunday did, give him a safety net, AND let him know it's there. because at this point he felt that the plan was too risky and he cared too much

like honestly i think he hoped aventurine would read the note before putting on his "performance" and readjust accordingly. but then he didn't <3 and acheron had to remind him that it was still sitting in his pocket <3 if she hadn't said anything about it i don't think he would have opened it adgsmbfdndhfbkjjbg <3 oh i love a mess <3 anyway i think this serves as a suitable refute for the "dr. ratio was racist towards aventurine" sentiment that continues to fly around in some parts of the fandom, so? MOVING ON

i ended up talking about this already, but looking more closely at how ratio looks at the world was a biiiiiig part of why he grew on me So Much. it's all actually really noble and worth admiring. again, he just talks like a dick so it's easy to get confused LMFAO

he never received nous' recognition not just because he "cares too much" (as you'll see some people vaguely claim and then not elaborate), but because he fundamentally disagrees with the ideology that allows the genius society, the path of erudition, and even nous themself to exist.

there's like... a certain "threshold" of intelligence and knowledge that nous operates off of. the unknown, the near-or-actually-impossible to comprehend, things that the average person would never be able to grasp and would never care to try because it's simply beyond them - that's all nous cares about. but ratio doesn't believe this threshold exists. he doesn't believe in knowledge that cannot be taught. just to reiterate: he believes anyone can learn anything if someone teaches them, and they will care if they know someone will be there to teach them.

but if anyone can follow the footsteps of geniuses, then Genius is no longer a superior echelon of society. the end goal the erudition seeks is no longer "beyond the limits of mortal wisdom."

nous rejected ratio because he rejected them - long before he fully understood that he did so.

i think he only ever tried to seek their recognition because it was expected so highly of him. like, he was a prodigy child, absorbing new information and collecting phds at the speed of light. of course every adult around him was like, "oh yeah this kid's a future genius society member" and then they told him this. over and over. and he was like, Okay, so this is the path i'm supposed to embark on, and i must do it and i must succeed (or i'll let them down; i'll be a disappointment, a failure, a waste of resources and all the hopes and dreams everyone's pinned onto me.)

he spent a good few years trying and failing to conform to nous' surprisingly (ironically?) boxed-in mindset. but they ignored him, probably because they predicted that even IF they recognized him while he seemingly ascribed more closely to the erudition's beliefs, he would ultimately wander off and "waste" time trying to nurture the achievements of "mere" mortals instead. and then he had to sit there and be like ok i apparently fucking failed at the one thing i thought i was supposed to do with my life, What Now

and this results in the dr ratio we meet in game. still haughty, still has an attitude problem and a bad temper, still has a tendency to talk down to people (i think though at this point his condescending tone is more of a defense mechanism and a way of isolating himself from others before he is once again rejected from a "part" of society after trying, trying, and then Failing to conform to a box), but! considerably more humble and far more focused on others than himself. he cares, ok. he cares an awful fucking lot. he believes in the good of humanity. humanity's ability to do good, to grow... to find the answers to its problems, implement them, and save itself.

plus, "character that's very admirable and very kind and loving IN THEIR OWN WAY (<- this is important because ratio isn't any of these things in a traditional sense and that's another part of why i've come to like him; it's interesting) but is cursed to just sort of talk like a total jackass forever" is an extremely entertaining concept

one other thing that's less significant than realizing ^^^^^^^ALL OF THAT. GOD .but still played a big part in my warming up to him, is how fond he is of those stupid rubber ducks and the goofy poses his statues are in. and also how his very first introductory cutscene is him playing chess BADLY (😭😭😭😭) against himself. that speaks to a sense of whimsy and playfulness that he doesn't have much of an outlet for. which i find... cute. and an aspect of his character that's a ton of fun to play around with

IN CONCLUSION: i mean he's okay i guess

[123-im-writing-lol]

A lesson learned

Word count: around 4.2k YAY :D

Tw: afab reader being referred to as “woman” “good girl” etc. Meandom!matt, soft!matt at the end, brattyvigilante!reader, pet names, impact play (spanking, pussy slapping), degradation, unprotected p in v, cumming inside, praise, forced submission?, reader has daddy issues, lowkey emotionally stunted reader, possibly autistic reader (this is me we’re talking about), daddy kink, subspace, aftercare <- none of the things listed is in order :/

*****************************

It wasn’t supposed to go like this.

It was supposed to be a simple mission; sneak in, get the book, and sneak back out. It wasn’t supposed to be whatever the hell this is.

A shitshow, would probably be the best way to put it.

“Sneaking” back out became running and fighting for your life against who knows how many armed men were guarding the building.

You shouldn’t have gone in alone, but you wanted to prove him wrong. He always underestimates you, thinks you can’t handle stuff. You can handle stuff! He just won’t let you! Daredevil. Or rather your boyfriend, Matt Murdock. Says he just wants you to be safe, but he takes things too far! He practically babies you as if you aren’t a fully capable person. He isn’t the only one that’s been doing this vigilante stuff for years.

Tonight was just… a slip up. Your head wasn’t in the right place, no big deal! It’s not your fault his voice was in the back of your mind reminding you to wait for him, only further goading you into doing otherwise. You dont need to wait for him, you’ve got this.

But again, it turned out that you didn’t have this. Not when there’s a gun pointed at your head. If it wasn’t for Daredevil showing up and chucking his billy club at the guys head, knocking him unconscious, you’d be dead.

Your body visibly sags with relief when the assailant goes down, but your relief doesn’t last long when your gaze shifts to your savior. Shoulders taut, chest heaving, fists clenched… he’s pissed. It’s understandable, given the fact that you did exactly what he said not to do and almost ended up in an early grave.

Silence stretches between the two of you for longer than you were comfortable with, only the sound of your panting echoing in the dingy room can be heard. You weren’t sure if you should speak, wondering if it’d anger the man before you even more.

“…we should probably get outta here–“

“You didn’t listen.”

More silence.

“…what-?”

“You didn’t. Listen.” He repeats himself, slowly turning to face you. Normally the sight of him in his getup gets you going, but in this moment you can’t help but feel pity for any of the criminals that cross him. The broken lights overhead cast an eerie shadow around him, emphasizing the little horns on his head.

“…we don’t have time for this, we need to leave–“

It takes him a mere two seconds to cross the distance between you two, towering over you with his lips curled up in a snarl.

“You didn’t fucking listen to me. I told you to wait, to let me help you, and what do you do? You deliberately disobey me!”

He’s so close you can feel his breath on your face, hot and heavy. Despite his intimidating demeanor, his words cause a flicker of anger to rise within you. Who does he think he is?

“Disobey you?! Who are you, my father? I’m a grown woman, D!”

“I might as well be, given how you’re acting like a petulant child that doesn’t know how to do what she’s told!”

Clenching your jaw you shoot him the hardest glare you can muster. “You know what? Screw you.” Turning and making your way to the exit you fling the door open, intent on leaving him behind. If he wants to be an asshole then he can be an asshole, just not around you.

Immediately the autumn chill lingering in the night air nips at any exposed skin, causing goosebumps to break out across your body. You ignore the shiver that runs through you, starting the trek home.

Normally you and Matt would use this time to talk, flirting or bantering with each other before going your separate ways. But not tonight, you don’t even want to look at him.

*****************************

Climbing in through your window you sigh heavily, ready for tonight to be over. The warm air of your apartment greets you like a hug, allowing you to relax just a little bit. You’ve just barely managed to take off your boots when you’re forced up against the closest wall. Your hands instinctively go to defend yourself, assuming someone’s here to hurt you, only for you to stop in your tracks when your eyes scan the familiar figure holding you there.

“Ugh-! What the hell?!”

His forearm presses firmly into your collar bones, rendering you unable to move. Before you can say anything more your lips are being smothered by his, the action catching you off guard.

“Mmph-!”

The kiss is rough and clumsy, teeth clashing and saliva smearing across your mouths. You’re usually not happy with unexpected kisses, even on a good day. You manage to roughly shove him back, putting some distance between you two.

“Get off of me! What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“What’s wrong with me? Take a wild fucking guess sweetheart.” He spits sarcastically, reaching up and yanking his helmet off before tossing it aside. He steps closer, finger pointed in your face. “I told you not to–“

Smacking his hand away, you cut him off. “Don’t lecture me–“ but just as you did to him, he doesn’t allow you to finish.

“Be quiet. For once in your goddamn life just listen to me.” His voice is firm, demanding even, enough to render you silent. Nostrils flaring, you stare up at him expectantly.

Seemingly satisfied by your cooperation, he continues. “…I told you not to go in there alone. I told you to wait for me. I told you to be smart. You almost died. Do you hear me? He was going to kill you, and if I hadn’t been there-“ He can’t bring himself to say the words, the muscles in his jaw twitching as he clenches his teeth.

“Okay yeah, fine, you saved me and I was stupid for going in alone. Is that what you wanna hear?!”

“Ugh, it isn’t about what I want to hear! It’s about you doing exactly what I told you not to do and endangering yourself in the process!” He argues. You don’t respond, unsure of what to say. He is right… kind of, but it’s still his fault. Plus he doesn’t need to be so rude about it…

As if sensing he isn’t getting anywhere with you he straightens his posture, a blank look crossing his face. “…get undressed.”

…You’re absolutely baffled. Maybe you heard him wrong.

“…what-?”

“Get. Undressed.” He repeats, voice steady and leaving no room for argument. You know what he’s doing. He’s going to use sex to break you down, get you to agree with him, admit you’re wrong, but that isn’t gonna happen. You’re stubborn by nature, and when you’re frustrated it only increases tenfold.

Still… it’s been too long since you’ve slept together, and the idea of what he has in store is enough for a flicker of excitement to stir in your tummy. Okay, maybe you will have sex, but you won’t agree with him. In fact, you’re gonna make things harder for him.

With a newfound confidence you say those two words that have become a staple in the bedroom, the two words that always set the mood for what’s in store.

“…Make me.”

For a moment he doesn’t react, his sightless eyes staring in your general direction. He then nods, his demeanor calm and composed. A mere second later you’re being tossed over his shoulder, a startled gasp being ripped from your throat.

“Matt-! Put me down!” You demand, kicking your legs and pounding your fists against his back, your head beginning to spin from the awkward angle.

Smack!

You jolt, body frozen with shock as it registers the stinging sensation on the back of your thigh. It hurt. Hurt more than usual, enough to keep you quiet.

Matt’s no stranger to your less than obedient nature. He’s a patient man, using soft words and gentle caresses to ease you into being good. At least, that’s how it usually goes. Tonight’s different. He’s fed up, and he’s through with being patient.

He drops you onto your mattress, an undignified “oof!” getting knocked out of you. He then lowers himself to sit next to you, casually pulling you over his lap. Immediately sensing his intentions you begin to squirm, your face flushing. But his hold is firm, you’re not going anywhere.

You wouldn’t even be able to count on your hands the amount of times he’s had you pulled over his lap. It’s one of your shared favorites regarding bedroom fun. Though right now you know it’s going to be anything but.

The deep rumble of his voice causes you to stop squirming. “Here’s how this is going to work. You seem intent on being a disobedient brat, so I’m going to treat you like one. The more you struggle, the more I hurt you. Do you understand?”

Huffing indignantly, you decide not to respond… that is, until he lands a harsh slap to your bottom.

“I said, do you understand?” To your dismay, the thickness of your pants don’t do much to lessen the sting.

“Yes!” You snap, annoyance clear as day. That’s okay, Matt knows you’ll be a whining mess soon.

“Good girl.” Embarrassingly enough, the praise causes your heart to flutter, just as it always does. Despite being angry with you, and wanting to punish you, you’re still his baby at the end of the day.

Hands gripping the waistband of your bottoms as well as your underwear, he begins to shimmy them downward, just enough to expose your ass to him. Your face feels impossibly hot and he’s only just begun.

He begins to massage your asscheeks, squeezing the flesh in his large, calloused hands. “I tried to make this easier, you know. Told you to get naked for a reason. I was gonna bend you over my lap either way, but if you did as you were told you at least would’ve been more comfortable.” He states, a hint of condescension in his usually kind voice.

Of course. Shooting him a nasty side eye, you stay quiet. He’s dragging this out for a reason, trying to build up your anticipation. Safe to say it’s working. Heart hammering against your ribcage, you inhale a shaky breath through your nose and wait. And wait. And wait.

…smack!

The first hit has you inhaling sharply, fingers digging into the bedsheet. He’s not going to hold back. He doesn’t even bother to soothe the sting like he usually does, instead he begins to speak.

“…I care a lot about you. You know that, right?” When you don’t respond he lands another harsh smack.

“Agh-! Yes!”

“I’m glad, but I have to admit sweetheart, I’m a little confused. If you know how much I care about you, how much I love you, then why would you go and do a stupid thing like that, huh?”

Smack!

Ignoring your whimper, he continues. “The only thing I can come up with is that you don’t care. I mean, if you did care then you wouldn’t have risked your life when you didn’t need to. When you could’ve asked for my help. When you could’ve waited for me like the good girl I know you can be.” He lands three consecutive smacks to your sensitive skin, alternating between both cheeks. Fuck, you’re so turned on right now. You need him bad, and it’s obvious he needs you. You can feel his boner pressing into your side even through the thickness of his suit, proof of how much your pained cries affect him.

“Honestly angel, I’m disappointed…”

His words sting almost as much as your butt, really hitting you where it hurts. Maybe it’s the daddy issues, but you don’t like disappointing him, you like making him proud! Okay, so maybe it was selfish to do the mission alone…

His words combined with the way he’s gently massaging your skin have you debating if you should apologize. Your stomach is churning with a mix of guilt and a regret. What if you had died? It would’ve hurt him so much, especially given how many people he’s already lost…

Matt senses the slight shift in your mood, figuring you’re finally starting to understand what he’s trying to say. He can’t lose you.

But he’s still angry, and you still haven’t been taught a lesson, so you’re in for a rough night. “…you’re going to count every time I spank this pretty ass. You’re going to count, and you’re going to say you’re sorry.” He explains, as controlled as ever.

“And if I don’t?” You can’t help but snark, earning you a humorless chuckle.

“Then you aren’t going to cum.” The statement is followed by the crisp sound of his palm striking your bottom. Gritting your teeth, you try to ignore the pain blooming across your skin.

“One… sorry.”

He tsks. “Oh sweetheart, you can do better than that. If I didn’t know any better I’d say it sounds like you don’t mean it.”

“Yeah, that’s because I don’t.”

He smirks, confident in his next words. “That’s okay, you will soon enough...”

*****************************

You end up counting to twenty, each hit landing harder than the last. By the end of it you’re sure your ass is on fire, tears streaming down your face and pitiful whimpers escaping you. If it weren’t for Matt’s firm grip on you, you surely would’ve fallen off of his lap with how much you were twitching.

“There we go, that wasn’t so hard, was it baby?” Matt coos, thumb idly stroking your skin, enjoying the way he can feel the heat radiating off of your flesh. Shaking your head you mutter a pathetic “n-no!” having been worn down by your harsh punishment.

Matt hums thoughtfully, his fingers trailing down to prod at your opening. Your poor neglected pussy is dripping at this point, making a vulgar slick sound as he rubs up and down. His fingertips dip into your heat just enough to scoop out some more of your nectar, using it to rub slow circles against your clit.

“Ha-! Mmm…” You gasp, humming and eyes drooping as you finally get that pleasure you’ve been waiting for.

“Poor thing, need my cock so badly don’t you?” He coos.

You’re quick to nod your head, hope blossoming in your chest.

“Words.”

“Yes! Yes please!”

“Hmm…”

He’s careful in his movements, lifting you up off of him and standing, beginning to undo the zipper on his suit. Your eyes widen at the sight, quickly scrambling to lie on your back with your legs spread. It makes him chuckle.

“So eager, aren’t we?” He asks, pulling his dick out and giving it one long stroke. You can only manage to bite your lip and nod, said eagerness building. He steps closer, grabbing you by the thighs and pulling you to the edge of the bed. His member is resting between your pussy lips, providing you with some much needed stimulation as he slowly rolls his hips, grinding his head against your clit. You know better than to speak, not wanting to risk giving him another reason to deny you the dick that you crave so badly.

“Yeah, so fucking wet…” He whispers, seemingly to himself. “You like being punished that much?”

“Y-Yes…”

He pulls his hips back, his hand then coming down on your clit and sending a jolt of electricity through you.

“Ha~!”

“Tell me you want it.”

“I want it!”

He clicks his tongue, teasing your entrance with the tip.

“I don’t quite believe you, bug…” Disappointment coats his words, causing tears of frustration to well in your eyes. He’s being so mean!

“Please! Please Matty! Want your dick so bad!” Angling your hips you try to pull him in, but your efforts prove fruitless.

“Yeah? You want this?”

You gasp as he pushes forward, sheathing a mere inch inside of you. Your walls flutter once again, desperate to pull him deeper.

“Tell me you love me.”

“I love you!”

“Tell me you’re gonna be a good girl.”

“I’m gonna be a good g-girl~!”

You cry out, finally getting what you want. He groans, nice and low as he pushes in, opening you up for him and only him.

“Fuck…”

A mere moment later he’s pulling out until only the tip is left inside, then slamming his hips against the back of your thighs as he refills you, tearing a moan from the depths of your chest.

It doesn’t take long for your bedroom to reek of sex, the sound of skin slapping and raunchy moans filling the air. Matt lowers himself on top of you, his lips by your ear.

“God, such a good pussy… so fucking tight…”

You can only cry out in response, sweat beginning to soak your overheated body.

“Just a stupid little girl, thinking she knows best…” He growls angrily, giving you a particularly harsh thrust. Your hands grip onto his back for support, nails digging into the fibers of his suit as he fucks you.

“Oh god! Matt! Matty! Please! It’s so good~!”

“Yeah? You like how I’m fucking you? I know you do. Can feel your greedy little cunt sucking me in, milking my cock.” He’s breathless at this point, the pleasure in his gut beginning to build just as it is in yours. Your needy whimpers and wanton moans turn him on endlessly, bringing him that much closer to the edge. But he won’t cum, not when his lesson isn’t over yet.

“You gonna cum? Yeah?”

He snickers when you nod, clearly desperate.

“Awww, too bad. You’re not gonna cum until I feel you deserve it.”

You go to rub your clit in retaliation but he’s fast, grabbing your wrist and pinning it to the mattress beside your head.

“Ah-ah-ah… I don’t think so. You try that again and you won’t be cumming for a week.” You know from past experiences that he’s serious. His thrusts stall, his shaft buried so deep you can feel him in your throat. “Tell you what, you tell me you’re sorry, you mean it, and I’ll let you cum. Does that sound fair?”

Your answer tumbles out of your mouth before you can even process it, hazy mind begging for that orgasm that’s being dangled before you. “Yes-! Yes!”

“Good, then I suggest you get to it, because I’m not gonna last much longer.” He goads, resuming his quick pace. As soon as his hand wraps itself around your throat you’re babbling.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry daddy! M’so sorry! Just wanted to make you proooud~!” Tears are streaming down your face at this point, the pleasure and guilt intertwining to form an addictive concoction.

“Aww, you wanted to make me proud?” He mocks, voice full of faux sympathy. Slowly rolling his hips, the head of his dick grinds against your cervix, rendering your mind gone. All you can focus on is him; the feeling of his hands on your body, the way his cock splits you in half, the grunts that resound in your ear…

Nodding, you whimper pitifully. “Yeah~!”

“But honey, why didn’t you just do what daddy said? You know daddy loves when you’re a good listener.” You can’t tell if the softness he’s showing you is genuine or not; if he’s making fun of you by cooing to you like you’re a child, or if he believes your words and is hoping to provide you some sense of comfort.

“Wanted to be a big girl! Wanted to be brave, and- and show you I could do it!”

He heaves a heavy sigh, pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear. “I know sweet girl, I know…”

All of a sudden he doubles down, bracing his hands against the mattress as he pounds the life force out of you.

“Come on sweetie, cum for me. Cum for daddy.” The sudden shift in his tone has your heart aching, your throat sore from whimpering and whining as you cling to him even tighter.

Mouth agape, you’re unable to do anything other than obey. With a silent scream that knot in your tummy snaps, causing your pussy to flutter around his cock.

“Ohhhh that’s it, fuck, y’make me so proud baby… such a good girl…” He huffs, moaning lowly into your ear as his release quickly follows yours, painting the walls of your cunt with his seed.

He stays inside, giving you one more pump of his hips in hopes of stuffing his semen deeper, claiming you as his. The both of you twitch from the aftermath of your orgasms, panting heavily as you come down from your highs.

Eventually he pulls out, removing his daredevil suit and heading to the bathroom. He returns a moment later with a wet washcloth and some lotion. Taking his time he gently cleans up the mess of your combined fluids in silence, smiling softly at the way you jolt and whimper at the sensitivity. Once you’re clean he rolls you over, carefully applying lotion to your sore bottom.

“…I really am sorry.” You whisper, swallowing nervously when you feel his hand pause. But you continue. “I wasn’t thinking, wasn’t careful, just wanted to prove I could do it.”

He sighs, setting the lotion aside and climbing into bed next to you.

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to prove yourself to me. I know you’re fully capable of doing things on your own, you’re a strong girl.” He reaches down and begins to massage your scalp, a vulnerable look on his face. “Strong, and brave, and smart… I just want you to be safe. I can’t bear the thought of losing you.”

Instead of responding verbally you climb into his lap, hugging him tightly and resting your head on his shoulder. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close to his chest and savoring the sound of your heartbeat. You’ve never been the best with words, with comforting people, so you hope your actions are able to make up for that.

“…my butt really hurts.”

A weak attempt at lightening the mood, but it works nonetheless. Matt chuckles, rubbing a hand up and down your back before pressing a kiss to your neck.

“I’m sorry, did I get too carried away?”

You think about it, wondering if he really did get carried away and you forgot to use your safe word, or if you’re just having confusing feelings post sex. You’ve always had difficulties with your emotions, and with noticing things until it’s too late.

“…I don’t think so. I probably should’ve said yellow, but I was too stuck in my head. I don’t think I do good with spankings unless you comfort me.” You explain earnestly.

Matt nods. “Good to know. Thank you for being honest. I should’ve checked in with you, I’m sorry about that.” Guilt laces his words, causing you to jump to assure him.

“It’s fine, I don’t really care.”

He sighs, recognizing the way you attempt to emotionally distance yourself in hopes of pleasing him. “Alright, but it would be fine if you did care too. You can get upset at me just like I can get upset at you… I still love you, and you still love me.” He softly reassures, taking on that borderline fatherly role you’re all too familiar with.

Internally hoping to avoid continuing the conversation regarding negative feelings, you decide to respond with:

“…I really liked when you called me a stupid little girl.”

*****************************

Later that night you’re curled up against Matt’s chest, watching the slow rise and fall of it as he sleeps. Sleeping never came easy to you, so it isn’t uncommon that Matt would fall asleep first. Your eyes scan his features as best as they can in the dark; making out the outline of his nose, the subtle definition on his chest, the bump of his shoulder. He’s pretty… you love him… you feel bad. Darn it, you feel bad. Yes you apologized, but you could’ve sounded more sincere, he poured his heart out to you and you responded like a middle schooler would. You’re tempted to wake him up so you can apologize properly, promise him that you won’t do anything stupid that could risk your life again, promise to in fact be more careful from now on. But that might upset him more. He had a rough night, he must be really tired, and—

“Why’re you still awake sweetheart?”

The familiar sound of his raspy, sleep filled voice sends your heart skipping, a small gasp slipping from between your lips.

“-! Oh, I uh, I’m just… thinking.”

He hums thoughtfully. “…’bout what?”

You subconsciously snuggle closer to him, your fingers absentmindedly playing with the hair on his broad chest. “…m’sorry.”

“Sweetheart, you already apologized–“

“But I’m really sorry!” You’re quick to cut him off, needing to get this off of your chest. “I shouldn’t have done it and then when you were talkin’ to me about it I didn’t know how to comfort you so I was sayin’ dumb stuff!”

He sighs at your ramble, reaching a hand up to rub at his sleepy eyes. “Angel it’s okay, I know you aren’t the best with stuff like that. I already forgave you.”

“…I promise to be more careful, and to listen better.”

Shaking his head affectionately, he kisses your forehead, knowing it’s best to just roll with it. “Thank you sweetie.”

“…you’re not mad?” You ask hesitantly, still feeling the need to get reassurance from him. You hate when he’s mad at you…

“No, no baby I promise, daddy’s not mad at you, it’s okay.” He soothes, knowing it’s exactly what you need to hear.

Authors note:

Hopefully tumblr doesn’t hide this fic 🙏 this was so hard guys, you have no idea. This is my longest fic yet and it was so annoying cause why is it so hard to keep writing instead of just ending it? Still, practice :p and yes I did end it shortly because I couldn’t take it anymore and I needed to post it :3

[monsterfuckermilligan]

i’m sure this has been said before but when adam and michael are talking in the bunker about the possibility of michael’s dad being a grade a asshole, there’s something so so so important to me about how adam points out michael’s hypocrisy.

ADAM: Point is…. Parents keep secrets. Does it hurt to ask the question?

MICHAEL: Yes! It would mean I doubt him. The good son; the favorite doubts his father.

ADAM: You still care about that? After he left you in the cage?

this matters because michael was JUST criticizing sam and dean for leaving adam and how he is in unable to trust them. he doubts them because of their actions.

MICHAEL: You’re asking me to trust you. You who doomed me, you who let Lucifer walk free while your own brother sat in Hell.

in turn, adam is pointing out that clearly michael has a line for his family members and it’s been crossed by michael’s own, so why is his dad any different than sam or dean? what makes michael different than adam? why does his dad get to betray and abandon him and still get michael’s trust and loyalty? why is michael expendable?

he’s really tapping into michael’s beliefs that were just established to us as the audience at the diner. (ie: family sometimes hurts you and just because they’re blood relatives or ‘family’ doesn’t mean they have your best interests at heart. sometimes there are things more important than family, sometimes walking away from your family is freedom) and he’s holding michael to the same standard he’s set for the winchesters.

side note: another thing i enjoy about this interaction is that adam is being gentle, although it 100% appears as if they’ve had this conversation before since he literally rolls his eyes, and not to mention that michael is an archangel. he could easily be mean or not even care about his feelings or michael could not even take his opinion into account and do what he wants. but despite everything, adam asks for michael to listen to him, and he does. and in turn adam appeals to him with logic and reasoning, because he’s overall a very rational and strategic being that’s simply been groomed from the get go in his dad’s weird cult. adam appeals to his emotions in a way that’s familiar. they share this experience. adam knows michael is protective of him and that it’s easy for michael to hate sam and dean for the same things his dad has done. but michael’s own lack of self worth that was drilled into him by his dad for aeons is being challenged, and it’s uncomfortable for him, but adam doesn’t back down and he helps get through to him. it’s really a great scene. this post wasn’t meant to be so long but yeah i have lots of thoughts about this short interaction!

[ghostoffuturespast]

There is nothing quite like the silence of a crowd. The innumerable eyes that watch but never see, The ears that hear but do not listen, The hands that touch but do not hold.

It shouldn't feel this way.

I shouldn't be robbed of joy, because no one bothers with a second glance, Nobody rips their heart out and lays it my feet, But I am. And it stings. A wretched thing that worms into a mind, Into a heart, Into a soul. Sours it, Makes it rot.

Even knowing it's all by design, I can't quit. It festers.

Because that need to belong, To connect, Is far too strong.

It is a feeling that is in constant need of being fed. Tended. So, when no one sees, Or listens, Or cares to hold you dear. When everyone else crowds you out, Smothers you.

Why share your joy when you'll never belong? When your love is met with silence, And when the crowd you yearn to be a part of, Never lets you in.

Rant below:

So, I've been in a real weird headspace all fucking week so of course I wrote some crappy poetry about it. I want to participate and be a part of the communities I'm in. I don't think that's unusual. For me or for other people.

And maybe I'm being fucking dumb about this and inordinately petty... but I really want to be a part of the CP2077 fandom. Like, truly. It's the first fandom I've been this involved with. But it's frustrating when others don't register that you exist, especially when you spend time with them in other spaces.

I don't need validation to make things. I'm venting because I'm struggling to feel included in all the spaces and communities I want to be a part of, but am feeling elbowed out of.

I know, I know. It's social media, it's a big space, we're all vying for attention. It's tumblr and discord. I understand people aren't plugged in all the time, people live their own lives, things come up, and not everyone is into the same things I am, and I'm not expecting everyone to be friends with me. I understand all of this in principal.

I know I got to the party late, but it's been a struggle to find a space and people were I genuinely feel welcomed or acknowledged around since I got here. And I'm not the most outgoing person to begin with so talking to people I don't know well is hard. I try to be supportive of other folks I know (or even don't), but it's getting real difficult to keep doing that when those same folks don't reciprocate on any level.

I know in the back of my head, not everyone is gonna like what I make and everyone has their limits on what they're able to do. But...

Is all the stuff I make that boring or bad? Did I do something wrong or piss people off? Does my introvertedness just make me horrendous at making friends? Am I setting my expectations too high?

Or am I blowing this all out of proportion and this is some ships in the night scenario?

Rationally, it's probably that last one.

Irrationally, I don't think the majority of people would even notice or care if I drop everything, walk away, and go back to being a hermit.

Maybe everything I just said is dumb and what I really need is to get over myself.

I will at some point.

It just feels shitty right now. And I can't stop thinking, what's the fucking point? If I wanted to be by myself, it's easy enough for me to go do that.

The point is I don't want to be by myself though. I don't want to be screaming my joy into an empty room. I want to be able to do it with other people and for some reason I'm having a real hard time connecting for whatever reason.

(It's also not helping that a lot of the people I was interacting with regularly have largely dispersed. I'm not mad at them about it. You do what you gotta do. I am frustrated and angry with how negative I've been about all this this past week, and I haven't been able to shake it.)

[jade-of-mourning]

sorry sometimes i think about mako and my heart hurts so much. this kid raised himself and his brother on the streets in homelessness and utter poverty from eight through fifteen, promptly after seeing the violent death of his mother and father. he turned to the triple threats because they couldn't survive as a pair of wretched kids without any adult support, and the environment forced him to turn into the exact character that killed his parents in a terrible twist of irony. and after sheer-fucking-luck hits and they aren't homeless anymore, their livelihood wavers on the outcome of what's a literally game to everyone but them; and after things are finally starting to look up and their team is going places and things just might be okay, his gradually stabilizing world unceremoniously expands and everything goes to shit.

and the city that chewed him up and spat him back out, ruined him as a child and took away his ability to stay afloat in a true sense of normalcy as an adult — when it's on the verge of destruction and falling to pieces before his eyes, he gives himself to save it with the full expectation to die. he went from the kid who didn't and couldn't care about anything outside of himself and his brother, to finding redemption for his younger self in his police work despite its injustice against him, to willingly sacrificing himself to a world that had never loved him.

he's a desperate people pleaser, socially and emotionally stunted for the adult he had to be as a kid, unable to navigate interpersonal relationships easily yet still trying his damned hardest. he's intensely and entirely devoted to the things that matter to him and for so long it was only him, bolin, and ensuring their survival — yet by the end, that devotion has expanded to protecting the rest of the world. he starts out entirely self-reliant and ends in trusting the people he cares about to know their own needs, to be able to take care of themselves, to be okay without him despite having spent so much of his life defined by his role in others' well-being.

just. what the fuck i'm such a big fan of this fictional guy and i'm unashamed about it at this point. also let him cry please (if you won't i'll do it i'll let him cry)

[puppyeared]

Atla live action 😐