#i exist outside of cookie run

[cortlandkaard]

some uh self-indulgent doodles

cos as you all know im trying to make my style more flexible!! i think its working

in order: M Cortland, Tin Foil, Rush Cortland, some rando, Lodge Cortland, and River Cortland

all of the capitalized names are related (by blood or romance) but tin liked his chosen last name so much he didnt want to change it again

[vivwritescrappythings]

Yours

joel miller x fem!reader

Finally finishing the request for a Joel Miller fic inspired by "Jealous" by Nick Jonas for @prettyinpunk85 (I hope you like it)

You get new neighbors in Jackson, Joel doesn't like how much attention they pay to you so he decides to teach them a lesson.

tw: afab and fem reader, p in v sex, alludes to curvy reader, age gap (twenty years), exhibitionism, some dubcon, dirty talk, no use of y/n, unsafe sex (do as i say not as fanfic writes), oral (f receiving), fingering, finger sucking, jealous joel, written from joel's perspective (may be bad)

Word Count: 4.8k

MDNI

masterlist

—

Joel didn’t know what to do with himself when you’d happily announced that you had new neighbors. The house next to his in Jackson had been empty for some time, it was yours until you decided to move in with him and Ellie. He was hoping the neighbors would be a family, or maybe some older survivors. Really, someone you could be friends with, he knew you were way too extroverted for just his company.

But instead the new neighbors were his nightmare: two guys–in their twenties.

You were young for Joel, he knew that. Part of him had always attributed your interest in him to the fact that choices were limited in the zombie apocalypse. He hadn’t even known how to flirt with you, awkwardly leaving tattered books he had found during supply runs on your front porch, sometimes accompanied by wilted wildflowers. One day he had left you a bookshelf he’d built, endless hours spent in his studio sanding the wood to perfection and carving flowers into the border. You had to ask him to come over to help you move it inside.

That was over two years ago, and he still had no clue why a pretty thing like you had decided to even talk to him, let alone be with him. To be honest, no one else in Jackson understood it, either. You worked at the small bakery on Main Street and wanted to convert one of the buildings into a library. You liked to sew pretty dresses and planted superficial flowers outside of the house in the summertime. 

Joel was nothing of the sort, keeping everyone at an arm’s length aside from Tommy and Ellie. He stayed on the fringes of community events, always present but never participating. Ellie was loud enough for the both of them, boisterous and friendly and everything he wasn’t. He was happy to watch her thrive.

So the first time she asked him to go to the bakery so she could hang out with a friend, he reluctantly agreed. He’d introduced himself to you like a complete idiot, blushing when you laughed and informed him that you were neighbors. Joel had become enamored with you from the second he saw your smile, the way your eyes crinkled at the edges and your cheeks lifted. He could’ve died a happy man right there at the counter. 

From then on, he claimed that bakery visits were firmly his responsibility.

He sucked up every piece of information you gave him, starting with your favorite items at the shop and spiraling until he knew that you loved wildflowers and what books you liked to read. Joel was greedy, he wanted to know everything about you–he wanted to be the only person that knew everything about you. 

That was when he started leaving you gifts at your door, and the rest was history.

So when you swatted his hand away from the cooling cookies on the rack in the kitchen, his brown eyes regarded you with betrayal. “They’re for the neighbors,” you informed him, untying your cute, frilly little apron and hanging it on the hook he’d installed.

The neighbors.

They had already become adversaries in a war that only he knew existed. Joel sighed, heavy boots plodding against the floor until he could wrap his arms around your waist and pull your back to his chest. “Now why are you giving the neighbors my cookies?” he asked, nuzzling the tip of his nose against your temple. 

“To be friendly, Joel,” you said with a giggle, turning in his arms to look up at him. His big, scarred hands were on the small of your back, fingertips rubbing gentle circles through your shirt. He swore his heart stopped every time you looked up at him, your thick eyelashes fluttering as your lips quirked into a smile. “Something that you are unfamiliar with.”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. “M’friendly,” he protested, pecking you on the lips as though it would prove his point.

“Oh yeah?” you asked, leaning up and kissing the corner of his lip once before squirming out of his grip. You retrieved one of the few plates that didn’t have a chip missing from the cabinet, transferring the cookies onto it with care. “It took you how many months to talk to me?”

Even if the question wasn’t rhetorical, he decided to treat it that way. He moved closer to you, a possessive hand curling around your waist and lips meeting your shoulder. “To prove you wrong, I’ll come with you to introduce ourselves to the neighbors.” He wanted to keep an eye on them, let them know that his pretty girlfriend was in fact taken before they got any wrong ideas.

Your brow furrowed, immediately suspicious of his motives. “Who are you and what have you done with Joel Miller?” 

He smiled, trying to be sweet and smooth like he used to be when he was younger. Before everything. “Maybe I just want to be nice, wildflower. Ever thought of that?” 

Your eyes dragging across him let him know that you weren’t convinced. The two of you stared at one another, waiting to see who would cave first. Apparently it was you. “Fine, but I know you’re up to something.”

Joel’s hand was firmly planted on the small of your back as you stepped out into the afternoon sun, the whole world looking like it was dipped in gold. You went up the rickety porch stairs first, Joel only a half step behind you as you adjusted the plate to one hand to knock on the door.

He was staring at the way the blue paint was starting to peel, thinking about how no self-respecting man would let his house fall into disrepair like that. No mind that they had only moved in a few days ago, they should’ve repainted the front door by now–it was people’s first impression whenever they walked up to the house.

It took a moment after you knocked for the door to swing open, two blonde idiots who looked like they were straight out of a magazine advertisement standing on the other side. Their blue eyes lit up when they saw you, easy smiles gracing their features like they hadn’t been battle-hardened by the outbreak.

Not like Joel was.

Joel’s fingers dug into your back, his expression hardening. They tempered their excitement when they saw him, standing so close to you that he could practically be your shadow.

He loathed the way they were looking at you, his jaw set tight and flexing beneath his beard. You were talking, he could hear the notes of your voice like you were speaking underwater–he was too focused on the dopey smiles in front of you to even pay attention to what was being said. You made them laugh, they said something back to you. Probably their names if he had to guess.

Before he even realized, you were tugging him back down their porch steps and into your shared home, flitting away to make Joel his own personal batch of cookies like nothing had happened.

–

Three times that week he had come home to find them loitering outside the front door or talking to you along the edge of the freshly painted picket fence. They were always showering you with compliments, be it about your cookies or the flowers you’d carefully planted in the boxes Joel had built you. They scattered whenever Joel was there, making excuses about chores that needed to get done or errands that needed to be finished.

But he knew better.

Of course, you talked about the nice boys next door over dinner, it took everything in him to not immediately scowl at the mention of them. The fact that you referred to them as boys was laughable, they were closer to your age than he was—maybe a few years difference between you at most. Nothing compared to his whopping couple decades. He tried to brush the thought away as quickly as it sprouted.

He humored you, knowing that you just thought that everyone was kind and friendly and honest because you were. That was what he loved about you.

–

The last straw was when he was out in the back installing a porch swing for you to read on. They were doing something, near enough to the tall fence splitting the yards that he could hear them talking as clear as day. 

Joel almost went over there to give them a piece of his mind, listening to them speculate about why you were with him. They were laughing as they bet that he couldn’t even get it up anymore, that there was no way he was taking care of you like a man was supposed to. 

He was old, angry. And you… you weren’t.

He was seething by the time they finished up and went into their house, his hands nearly shaking when he finished screwing the brackets into the roof. Back in the QZ, Joel would have probably fought them—killed them, if he was honest with himself. 

It would be easy to bust down their door and give them his retribution, he wasn’t always the domesticated beast he’d become for you. But nevertheless, he sucked it up. You would be devastated if he fought with them, as much as he would love to feel their skin split under his knuckles. He couldn’t do that to you.

—

It was a few evenings later that he got what he wanted: an opportunity for his revenge. You were on the porch swing with him, the two of you nestled together in the orange rays of the sunset. You both were reading, Joel’s arm tucked around your shoulders so your chin was pressed against his bicep. 

You always were fully immersed in your books, an earthquake could happen and you would have no clue. So you didn’t hear your neighbors’ back door slide open, but Joel did. 

He barely moved, didn’t bother to say a word as his broad hand moved from cupping your shoulder to gently graze around the side of your breast. It was a lazy day for the two of you, you were only dressed in one of Joel’s flannels and pajama shorts that were so loose around your thighs you may as well have never put them on.

You immediately shivered at his touch, your thumb slipping between the pages of your book to hold your place. “Joel, the neighbors,” you whispered, twisting so you could look up at him. 

“Went on a hunting trip, they’re not home,” he said loud enough for them to hear. Hopefully they would have the good sense to shut up. His thumb circled your already stiff nipple, a smirk stretching across his features conspiratorially. “C’mon, Ellie’s at a friend’s house and no one’s here—let’s test out the porch swing.”

Your lips were already parted, the heat building on the back of your neck so intense Joel could feel it through his shirt. “Joel,” you whined in the way that made him get hard as a fucking rock in his pants.

“Yeah?” he asked, suddenly playing dumb as though he hadn’t started it. 

You pouted, your brow furrowing and bottom lip jutting out as you arched your tit further into his hand. He acquiesced immediately—he always did—pinching your nipple through the well worn fabric of his flannel. His reward was a soft moan from you, your body both melting into and arching away from his. 

“What’s my girl want?” Joel asked, his voice a deep rasp as he stamped his lips against your temple. The small of your back was pressed against his oblique, your cheek squishing into his collarbone as he watched your thick thighs press together. He kept toying with your nipple, his free hand setting his book aside and pulling yours from your clutch. “C’mon, you gotta tell me. Can’t read minds.”

You huffed, you always hated it when he made you ask for what you wanted. “Joel please,” you whined, pressing your heels against the cushion that covered the wooden seat and sitting up so you were flush against him.

“Please what?” His free hand skimmed down your side, snapping the stretched-out, elastic waistband of your shorts. It made you squeak, a quiet giggle coming from your throat.

“God, please just touch me,” you whined, your impatience making him chuckle darkly. His hand moved from your waist, tracing over the pudge of your stomach and dipping into your loose sleep shorts. There was nothing beneath, just your soft skin and the curly patch of hair on your pubic bone.

“No panties? You slut,” Joel teased, his fingers traveling even further down until they sunk into your cunt. You were wet and warm, almost scalding his skin as he parted the lips of your sex to find your swollen clit. “And already so soaked.” 

You moaned, a hand winding around his bicep as your back arched. He kissed the crown of your head as he rubbed your clit between the pads of his pointer and middle fingers, slow and soft. He knew you’d complain, beg him for more. He just wondered how long it would take until you did. 

Not long at all, it was maybe half a minute when you rocked your hips impatiently against his hand. “Joel, you’re being mean.” You were loud, louder than you would ever mean to be with the threat of someone possibly catching you.

Joel chuckled, shaking his head. “Mean? Not true,” he countered, increasing the pressure he was putting on your clit. If he strained his ears he could hear how wet you were, a quiet squelching noise barely muffled by the fabric of your shorts. You pressed your hips further against his hand, your teeth digging into your lower lip to keep your noises to a minimum.

He dipped to gather more slick at your fluttering entrance, teasing it for a moment before returning to your clit. You were being so good for him, so sweet. His other hand unbuttoned the flannel you were wearing down to your navel, freeing your breast for him to knead and squeeze in his broad palm. 

Your eyebrows bunched together, your lips parting as your gaze was stuck on where his hand disappeared beneath your shorts. “Feeling good?” he asked, relishing in your moan of agreement as you nodded. 

Joel smirked, pulling his hand from your shorts. “No–oh my god,” you protested, nearly up in arms. If looks could kill, he would be struck dead. He stood, his dark eyes briefly looking over the fence to see the neighbors still on their porch, their jaws dropped to their chests.

His smile widened as he sank to his knees in front of you, your protests dropping off as you lifted your hips so he could take your shorts off. A wicked grin stretched on your features, you sucked your bottom lip back into your mouth as your gaze roved over him. You settled so your ass was almost hanging off the porch swing, spreading your legs without Joel having to direct you to do so. 

“You want me to eat this pretty pussy of yours?” he asked, rough hands smoothing along the insides of your soft thighs. Joel wasn’t a man with a weakness for pretty things, but there was something about your slick and puffy pussy dripping for him that made his heart nearly stop.

“Fuck, please, Joel.” He loved the way you begged. 

Joel pressed his mouth to the soaking mess of your sex, moaning at your salty-sweet taste on his tongue. He could never get enough of you, settling one leg over the curve of his shoulder as his other hand pressed your knee to your chest. The sun was shining in his eyes, but he didn’t let it stop him from looking up at your face. He lapped at your cunt with firm, long strokes, practically drinking from you.

In a moment of generosity, he pressed the middle and ring finger of his free hand knuckle-deep in your pussy, pulling a loud and broken moan from your chest. He was smiling into your pussy, suckling at your swollen clit as he pumped his fingers into you.

Your fingers tangled into his dark brown curls, grabbing at them in a way that sent shivers down his spine as you pulled his head flush against you. Joel loved the way your soft thighs pressed against his ears, almost muffling the sweet sounds falling from your pretty lips. Almost. Being outside had made you reckless, the promise of Ellie and the neighbors being gone letting you reach a volume that he hadn’t heard in a long time.

Of course, Joel knew better. He ate you like a starving man, proud that every sound you made was heard by the two men–boys–sitting on the other side of the fence.

His knees on the concrete ached, his back protesting being curled so he could keep his mouth pressed tightly against your weepy cunt. The pain was worth it, every second of it was worth it just to make you fall apart. Just to remind the world that you were his and his alone. 

Your head had fallen back to rest on the bench, your eyes scrunched closed as you gasped. Joel’s fingers crooked inside of you, finding the spongy spot at the front of your cunt. It made you writhe, the hand keeping you spread apart for him pinning you down and forcing you to be somewhat still as he pressed at that spot mercilessly. His eyes remained on you as much as they could, taking in every heaving breath and the way your breasts moved under the fabric of his unbuttoned shirt.

It was only moments more until you were coming apart at the seams. You’d squirmed out of his hold, your heels digging into his broad back. Your legs clamped around his head, your back nearly broken with an arch. The sound you made was almost wounded, a desperate cry of his name as your legs spasmed and you practically gushed over his hand.

He worked you through the aftershocks, your pussy fluttering deliciously around his thick fingers. Your hold on his hair loosened just enough for him to pull away, mouthing at the crease between your thigh and your cunt. You came back to yourself, breathing again as your legs relaxed to rest on his shoulder. He peppered sticky, wet kisses on your inner thighs.

“Joel, oh my god,” you sighed, scrubbing a hand over your face as you panted. A laugh left your chest, making him grin like an idiot as he rested his facial-hair covered cheek against your leg and caught his breath.

“Clean these up for me,” he requested, his soaked fingertips now pressing at her bottom lip. They glistened in the afternoon sunlight, a sticky film coating the entirety of them. You narrowed your eyes at him for a moment, your bratty streak coming through before you submitted and opened your mouth to let his fingers slide against your warm tongue.

You sealed your lips around them, sucking your slick off earnestly and rolling your tongue along his digits. “What a good girl, sucking on my fingers like that,” Joel said as he stood, making eye contact with the neighbors before looking back down at you. His knees protested the movement, cracking a bit as he straightened. 

He had to check to see if they were paying attention, the blush across their faces visible from across the yard.

A hum against his fingers brought Joel’s attention back to you. You watched him through your thick eyelashes, the sight alone making him feel like he was going to blow his load.

Your hands found the tie at his sweatpants, pulling the bow apart impatiently. You let go of his fingers with a pop, your soft lips shiny with a mix of your spit and slick as you started to pull his sweatpants down. “Wanna suck your cock, Joel,” you said, almost sounding drunk on it as your fingers hooked in the elastic waist.

He couldn’t help his smirk, his hand caressing your cheek and jaw as he looked down at you. He could feel two sets of eyes burning into him as he let the silence hang for a moment. You were being so perfect for him and you didn’t even know the extent of it.

“Nuh uh, not tonight,” Joel said, stooping down to press a wet kiss to your forehead. Your whine of protest made his chest puff up with pride. 

He shook his head with a smirk, kneeling down on the cracked concrete again. His poor knees–he would certainly regret the entire escapade tomorrow. Really, he wanted to get you up on his lap and have you ride him until you were crying–but he didn’t want to risk you seeing the neighbors. Or the neighbors seeing any more of you than the back of your head.

Grabbing you by the waist, he pulled you so your entire ass was hanging off the porch swing. The only thing keeping you from falling was his hands and your legs hooking around him for some stability. You were already grabbing at him, fingers twisting in the shirt he still wore. “Want me to fuck you?” 

“Uh huh,” you panted desperately, nodding with a frantic look in your eye. “Please, Joel.”

He smiled, pushing his sweatpants down around his thighs and taking his cock into his hand. You moaned as he rubbed the tip of it along the seam of your pussy and pressed it against your clit. 

“Fuck,” you whimpered as the blunt head of his cock caught, Joel filled you with a quick slot of his hips.

Your head fell back, a whine pulling from your throat as you bore down around him. He almost lost his mind right there, no matter how many times you’d had sex you still were so tight. You both stilled, panting and gripping at one another as you become acquainted, blinking in the afternoon sun.

“God, I love this pussy,” Joel grunted, trying to talk you through it as he started thrusting gently. No matter how quiet he was in his normal life, as soon as he felt you squeezing around his cock he started running his mouth. The hinges of the swing creaked a little as it moved back and forth, his hands anchored to your hips. 

He took you slow, wanting to savor the moment as much as possible. Bitten down grunts and grit teeth were met with your sweet mewls and dulcet moans as he split you apart. One of your hands reached for his, your fingers lacing with his before he pressed your knuckles onto the cushion of the swing. “Wanna hold my hand, sweet girl?” he asked, voice borderline condescending as he did.

You nodded pathetically, gasping every time he rutted inside of you. He’d reduced you to mush, partially formed words dying against your lips as he hit home against the spot inside you that always made your breath lock up in your chest.

“Who do you belong to?” Joel asked, squeezing your hand to get you to come back down to earth. You looked a mess, completely fucked out as you blinked slowly and took a deep breath. It took you a minute to really focus on him, your hand weakly squeezing back. 

“You, Joel,” you answered, teeth scraping along your plump lower lip as you fisted the open flannel still draped around your shoulders.

He chuckled darkly, leaning down toward you as he kept up his almost machine-like pace. “Louder, be a good girl,” he murmured, pressing a wet and sloppy kiss to your throat. You clenched around him at the praise, it had always been one of your weaknesses.

“Joel, m’yours,” you gasped, words broken up by the reverb of his thrusts and the slap of his heavy balls against your ass.

He never had reason to doubt that he was who you wanted to be with, but the reassurance helped ground him. The whole week he’d been wondering if he was holding you back, if you actually wanted something else from life. But with the way you were taking his cock? The way you moaned for him? Hell, the way you looked at him was more than enough. There was no mistaking it for anything other than love. 

“That’s right, you’re mine.” You shifted under him, the angle of your spine letting him hit deeper inside of you. His hand left your waist to grab the soft cheek of your ass, keeping you steady and supported. “No one else’s, right?”

“Yeah, Joel. Just yours.” The assurance was breathy, your voice faltering in your throat as you started to go rigid. You were looking up at Joel so sweetly, tears starting to glisten in your eyes as you tugged against the fabric of his flannel that you wore on the porch swing that he built you at his house. He had a mean possessive streak, but look at you–so happy to be his.

He lost himself. He worked on pure instinct, pistoning into you as he became blind with the desire to pin you down and fill you. You whined as he slammed into you, his sweaty forehead pressing against your sternum and his hands gripping you tight. He could feel you draw up like a spring beneath him.

You lurched on a wail, your cunt clenching around him so tightly that it almost hurt as you came. Joel moaned in sympathy with you, greedily taking in every expression you made beneath him. You whimpered and mumbled unintelligibly, your grip tightening around the hand you still clasped as your limbs locked up. 

Joel lost all semblance of coordination and control, hitching up one of your thighs and driving himself deep into you. Instinct dictated his every move, overriding common sense as he grunted above you like an animal.

He thought his jaw would crack in half from how hard he was clenching it, mumbling nonsense to you through his teeth. There was a lurch deep in his stomach, his abdomen starting to flex as he fell out of his rhythm. It was only a moment more before it felt like his skin was too tight and everything was too hot and he was spilling inside you while groaning your name. 

You were so full that you were leaking around him, come dripping down his balls and splattering on the concrete. Both of you were shaking, breathing each other’s air as your foreheads pressed together. Love filled your expression, making him smile tiredly.

You felt for him, your fingertips caressing his jaw as you brought him in for a gentle kiss. You always brought him back, reminded him to be soft with you when he nearly forgot. His tongue licked into your mouth for a moment before he ducked his head and lazily sucked at your breasts, his hips grinding against yours. You both hissed.

“Want me to run a bath for us?” he asked, his voice thick as he mouthed at the skin of your sternum. 

“Yeah,” you whispered, nodding weakly as your fingers skated up from his beard to curl into his hair. It was sweaty at the nape, curling more violently than before. 

He hummed good-naturedly, pulling out of you with a groan before tucking himself back away in his sweatpants. Joel looked down at the mess he made of you, his come already running down the crack of your ass and dripping onto the concrete. He moaned at the sight, even the shitty porn magazines he’d found on supply runs didn’t compare to this.

He helped you back into your shorts, a fist closing your flannel around your chest as you both shakily stood. You were like a newborn fawn, knees knocking together as you leaned into Joel’s chest. He chuckled breathily, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and holding you close. A soft I love you was whispered against your temple, a gentle reply following from you.

Joel glanced over the fence as he walked you to the sliding glass door, a proud glint in his eye as he met the shocked stares of your new neighbors. He winked at them, squeezing you tighter before bringing you inside with him.

[unbearableblog]

To my birthday. I wish myself to one day be loved like that. Based on a dream

Dream Dish

“Can you explain it a little more?”

“So, the outside was covered in dried cranberries and blueberries, but the inside was like… grass? I don’t know…”

“Grass? Sounds delicious,” he laughs.

“Shut up.”

Carmen listened intentively and moved away his curls as you described the dream you had, a certain dish that you tried there.

“Ugh, it was so weird? Like, I don’t think I’ve ever encountered this grass before. It was like hay, but green? And the outside of the dessert was like a fortune cookie, but brown?” you sigh in frustration, unable to describe its complexity in full, until an idea appears in your head. You quickly stand up and blurt out - “I’ll show you!”

You run to get the pencils and paper, leaving Carmen to sit amused on the bed. He knew waking up with you would be an adventure, but not in this way. Either way, he liked it.

“Here!” You put the paper down and frantically drew shapes and coloured them in, making the dream a reality.

“So! This is what it looks like.”

You paused from your driven spurt and realized that Carmen hasn’t said a word. He was silently looking at the paper.

“Sorry, this must be really boring to hear,” you suddenly shut down. After all, it was you who tried that magical dish, not him.

He looks up at you, then down at the paper. “No- …no, it’s a fascinating dish. I’m just tryna understand how it works,“ he still sounds kinda sleepy.

"It's okay, Carm, you don't have to."

Several days have passed and you moved on. You didn’t want to abandon your friends after getting a boyfriend, so today was one of the nights when you met up for a chat. When you came back, the apartment felt warmer and had a fruity scent - Carmen must have tried something for the restaurant.

You take your heels off and tiptoe to the kitchen, curious. He hasn’t heard you come in, so he is still hunched over the counter. Your eyes shifted to the table - and you wondered whether you were awake.

“Carmen? What’s that?”

“Shit!” he jumps, at which you chuckle, “when’d you come back?”

“Right now,” you say hesitantly, “why, was I not supposed to?”

“Of course not,” he comes to hug you. His arms are on your waist, and you know he can still smell your perfume. “I just wanted to surprise you,” he releases you and turns to the table.

You recognize the dish.

“Is that-”

“Yes, baby, that’s your dish,” he smiles and looks kinda proud.

“Can I try it?” you ask, and he reaches down to take the plate and a spoon. You break the cookie in half, inspect the filling, and eat it. As you chew, the insanity of the situation grows on you. This is a made-up dish. From your dream. You’re eating it.

“I-I’m sorry, I couldn’t find the exact grass you were talkin’ about, I had to switch it out with-”

“It’s okay, Carm, I’m sure that if it existed you would have found it,” you put the plate down and your hands slide to his arms, “It’s amazing. It didn’t taste nearly as good in the dream,”

“It is pretty good, isn’t it?” he takes the other half of the cookie and eats it too.

“Hey, that’s mine!”

”I made it.”

“I came up with it.”

He doesn’t respond, just smiles at you. You look him in the eyes and think how happy you are.

“I love you,” he whispers and gives you a kiss.

[gglitch1dd]

After all the things that happened in Cheating Dilf Izuku, all we need to heal a little where it hurts would be a scenario with Izuku and his family just being stupid together

Do you know the movie Grown Ups? Izuku's family along with the others sometimes remind me so much of them skskwkk

I 100% agree HAHA!!

Baking Mayhem 1

DILF IZUKU AND THE MIDORIYA FAMILY

Note: Normal Dilf Izuku AU

"Wait- no! Did the recipe say fifty minutes or fifteen minutes?"

"..."

"ASAHI!"

"WHY ARE YOU TRUSTING THE ONE WITH GLASSES TO READ?!"

"WE THOUGHT YOU COULD USE THEM, IDIOT!"

"TOSHINORI!"

"Dad! There's smoke coming out of the oven."

"Shit- Toshinori grab Koda so that he isn't standing by the oven."

"Dad said a bad word!"

"It's okay when Dad says it."

"That's hypocritical."

"You know what's hypocritical? Me helping you guys make cookies for mom when i don't have to do anything."

"But it would make her happy if we all did it."

"She's my wife! My very existence is to make her happy."

"..."

"I don't think she would agree."

"WHY DO THEY ALL LOOK LIKE CHARCOAL!"

"CLOSE THE OVEN!"

"I think one's on fire!"

"That one looks ugly."

"IT LOOKS LIKE UNCLE KACCHAN!"

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON DOWN HERE!" You shouted as you came down the stairs with a frown on your face. You had been taking a nap, just trying to get two hours of peace because you felt so drained today, but woke up to the sound of shouting downstairs.

The hysterical laughter died down and so did the shouting as standing there, red handed was your husband, holding a baking tray with green oven mitts on surrounded by your boys. Every single one of them was covered in flower in some way, the kitchen was a mess, there was a cracked egg on the counter and icing sugar packet opened.

Koda had a baking spoon in his mouth, eating the batter off of it, Shoyo had his hands covered in what must have been icing sugar, Hero was standing at Izuku's right hand side, Asahi stood at his father's left hand side and Toshinori was standing somewhere at the back holding Koda.

All sets of green eyes turned to you.

On the tray were what you hopped were cookies, but looked like burnt little gingerbread men that looked like they all died in a fire.

All the boys looked at one another before looking back at you. They all put on tense smiles, knowing how this situation looked.

Izuku let out a nervous chuckle. "We made cookies.."

You were absolutely speechless. You wish you had a camera. You put your fingers to the bridge of your nose as you tried to hold back chuckles.

"I knew she would be mad."

"She wouldn't have been mad if ASAHI KNEW HOW TO READ!"

"SAYS THE GUY WHO FAILED HIS LAST ENGLISH TEST!"

"I DIDN'T FAIL! FIFTY-SIX ISN'T A FAILURE!"

"It is in Japan."

"Maybe we should try again."

"Can the bunnies eat them?"

"Definitely not. I think they could kill one of us, let alone the bunnies."

"ALL OF YOU!" You shouted, you pointed a finger to the sliding door that led outside. "OUTSIDE NOW! Go hose yourselves off and then come clean my kitchen!"

Hero frowned. "But mom!" He whined.

"It was Toshinori's idea!" Asahi pointed to his oldest brother, adjusting his glasses as he did so. Said eldest brother had whiplash looking at him. "He should clean it up!"

"Why you rotten little piece of-"

You moved to pick up your slipper.

Suddenly all the boys kept quiet and started silently filing outside, Izuku putting down the tray on the counter with a laugh from his chest. You shook your head watching them all head outside as Hero went to go and grab the hose.

Izuku folded his arms as he watched the boys. It didn't take longer than a minute before all of them were running outside, chasing each other with waterguns and a hose, laughing and having fun. You couldn't help but ease at the sight of your little sprouts. Even though they made a mess, you knew that they were gonna remember this for a long time.

Izuku turned to look at you with a smile. "Did you enjoy your nap?" He asked.

You were going to respond before you realised something. You put your hands on your hips as you looked at him. "Why on earth are you still here Zuzu?" His face dropped at the implications. You pointed a finger to the outside, where all the boys had ditched their shirts and raced around the back garden, avoiding the bunny half of the garden all together. "Outside! Now!"

Izuku looked at you in disbelief. He let out a chuckle. "Honey I-"

"OUT!" You motioned back outside.

He sighed, knowing there was no arguing with you. Before you could do anything, he reached down and pulled you into a kiss. You let out a surprised squeak before easing. You allowed him to kiss you and let the butterflies in your stomach fly. He moved back with a smirk on his lips. "Yes ma'am."

He turned around and headed outside. The moment he stepped outside-

"QUICK! GET DAD!"

"Wait, WHAT-" Suddenly Izuku was tackled to the ground by five boys.

You couldn't help but laugh as you picked up Izuku's phone and quickly snagged a picture of all your boys together.

-Glitch1d

[Midoriya Izuku Masterlist]

[alessiasfreckles]

chocolate chip cookies (alessia russo x depressed!reader)

when you quit the team, feeling lost, no one knows what to do, including you. you spend days curled up in bed, alone, until you meet alessia, your replacement, who brings you out of your shell and helps you find yourself again.

warnings: depression is a big topic in this one! no mention of s/h or suicidal thoughts, just overall depression. if you're feeling depressed, don't hesitate to reach out.

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

When you tell the team that you’re quitting, the room goes silent. Then someone bursts out laughing. You’re not sure who, you’re staring at the ground, not wanting to look into the faces of your now former teammates. They think it’s a joke. It’s only when you turn around and leave without another word that they realise you’re being serious. 

And you are. You've already spoken to Jonas - he tried to convince you to stay, but you’d made up your mind. He told you that whilst he couldn’t guarantee there would always be a spot for you on the team, there’d always be a spot for you at the club. You nodded, thanking him quietly. You won’t be going back, you know that, but it seems unnecessary to make this harder for everyone else.

You don’t go back to the training ground after you tell everyone. You’ve already packed all your things in your car, wanting to make your departure quick and easy. On the drive home, your phone keeps buzzing with messages and calls from your former teammates. When you’re at a red light, you turn your phone off.

You decided to leave a while ago. You’ve lost any passion for the game, and when you realised that you were just going through the movements, you decided it would be best for the team if you left. You were dead weight, taking up a spot that could be used by someone else. Someone better. Someone who cares.

When you get home, you leave everything in the car, even your phone. You go inside and go straight to your room, getting into bed. you’re just so tired. It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep, feeling slightly more peaceful now that you don’t have the prospect of quitting looming ahead. 

You wake up to the sound of someone banging on your front door. Most of the day has passed, it’s getting dark outside. You lie there for a minute, waiting to see if the banging will stop, but it just gets more insistent. You sigh, dragging yourself out of bed and to the front door. When it opens, you see the faces of your teammates. Beth, Viv, Leah, Kim, Katie. The core five. They ask what’s going on, say that they’ve been trying to call you and message you all day. You walk past them to your car, get your phone out, shrug. 

“I left my phone in the car,” you say. You watch them exchange glances.

Still, you don’t want to be a bad host. Or a bad friend - if they still consider you a friend. You decide that it’s understandable if they don’t. You invite them in, and they pile onto your sofa. Leah pulls a stool in front of the sofa, telling you to sit down. You sit. Five faces stare at you, expressions ranging from confused to worried to something like anger. 

You didn’t mean to make anyone angry. 

“What’s going on?” Kim asks, her captain voice on. 

You shrug.

“Why would you quit?” Katie asks, frowning. 

I’m not good enough, I'm bringing the team down, I don’t care about playing, the team deserves better, you all deserve better, runs through your head.

You shrug.

“Y/n, is something going on?” Viv asks, her voice gentle. 

I’m tired, I don’t want to do this anymore, I just want to sleep, I wish I didn’t exist, life would be easier if I didn’t exist, I don’t understand why any of you are here, why do you care about me, I don’t care about me, I’m not worth caring about.

You shrug, then shake your head. 

“I just don’t want to play anymore,” you finally say. You’re not sure if it’s the truth or not. You loved playing, once. You loved the feeling that you got when you were on the pitch, the way it made everything else melt away. But you haven’t had that feeling in a while. When you’re on the pitch, the voice telling you you’re not good enough follows you. 

Your former teammates frown. They’re not convinced, and honestly, neither are you. You say that you’re tired, you want to sleep. They get the hint and leave, but not before each hugging you tightly, telling you to call them if you need anything. Beth and Viv promise to bring Myle around at the weekend, and Leah says she’ll come and see you tomorrow. 

They keep it up for a few weeks, but the season is starting, and you know they’re busy. You spend your days at home, curled up in bed, cocooned in a blanket. You watch tv and scroll on your phone for hours. You order the food shopping to be delivered so you don’t even have to leave the house. Someone usually visits you on their day off, and the girls message you. You go over to Beth and Viv’s place, cuddle the dogs, watch tv there instead of in bed at home. It's okay. You’re fine. You don’t feel any better, really, but it’s fine.

It starts when you’re forced to go to a movie night. Leah promises it’s just a small group of the girls, she knows you don’t want to be faced with the whole team. She tells you that there’s one new girl there, the new signing, but that she’s really nice. On the day, you think about ways to get out of it - surely Leah can’t just force you to go? 

She can and she does. She shows up at your house, tells you that she will pick you up and put you in the car if she has to. You crack a smile at the image. It’s the first time you’ve smiled in a while. Leah notices. 

The movie night is at hers. She's picked you up early, and when you get back to her place she sets you to work, chopping fruits and veggies for a snack board. The doorbell rings, the first person arriving. You expect it to be maybe Beth and Viv, who are usually pretty punctual, but it’s the new girl. Alessia. You've seen her in person a couple of times, when the team played against Manchester United last season, but you were already feeling out of it and hadn’t paid much attention to her then.

She comes in, hugs Leah and smiles at you. You smile back. She asks if there’s anything she can do to help, and Leah directs her to some meat and cheese she’s put out that needs slicing. She's been seeing charcuterie boards on instagram a lot lately and wanted to try making one.

“You mean, you wanted to get us to make one for you,” Alessia teases, and you let out a small laugh. It surprises you, and Leah, whose mouth drops open slightly. Alessia doesn’t think twice of it - why would she, she’s never really met you before. She wouldn’t know that it’s the first time anyone has made you laugh in, well, months. 

The evening goes well. It's nice to be around the girls. You don’t pay much attention to the movie, your brain feels too foggy to keep up with it. The mean voice returns, telling you that you’re just there because they feel sorry for you. You start picking at your nails. 

“I like your nail polish,” Alessia leans over and says to you quietly. She’s sat next to you on the sofa. 

“Oh, thanks,” you reply, taken aback. The nail polish is chipped and worn, remnants from Katie coming over and painting your nails a few weeks ago. 

“It's a great colour. I like having my nails done but I'm terrible at leaving them alone. I fidget too much and I'm clumsy so I usually end up breaking at least one,” she tells you, looking at her own nails. 

You nod, not saying anything. You wrack your brain, trying to think of what to say or how to act. It's been so long since you talked to anyone new that you feel like you’ve forgotten how to be normal.

“Um, you can borrow it, if you want,” you say. “The colour, I mean. I can give it to one of the girls to give to you.”

“Really? That’d be great!” she looks at you with a big smile. You feel an odd sensation in your stomach, like you’ve just had a hot drink and the warmth is trying to spread throughout your body.

You nod shyly, giving her a small smile.

After that night, she starts messaging you. The first message you write off as being about the nail polish. After all, why else would she message you? She keeps going, though. After she sends you a message thanking you for the nail polish, she mentions a book she’s reading. You’ve read it too, so you figure the polite thing to do is to ask her what she thinks of it so far. Then she asks you for recommendations. You’ve been reading a lot, lately, now that you have time. You send her a detailed list, then realise that maybe that’s too much, but you’ve sent it now. She replies with heart eyes and exclamation marks, so you think that maybe it was okay after all. 

She asks if she can come over to borrow a book you’ve told her about. After a moment of hesitation, you say yes, she can come over tomorrow afternoon, if that works. You spend the rest of the day cleaning and tidying. The next morning you find a chocolate chip cookie recipe. You used to bake a lot, but you didn’t really have time for it anymore after becoming a professional footballer, and you weren’t meant to be eating that kind of thing anyway. The thought crosses your mind as you mix the ingredients that maybe Alessia won’t want any, since most of the team eat pretty healthily. You keep mixing. It’s too late now, you might as well finish making them.

You’re nervous, waiting for her to arrive. You’re not sure why, probably just because you haven’t interacted with her alone before. You’ve put some cookies out on a plate in case she wants any, and you’ve already got the book she wants to borrow lying on the table. 

When the doorbell rings, it makes you jump. You open the door and she steps inside, immediately giving you a hug, then quickly stepping back.

“Sorry, is hugging okay? I need to get better at checking with people before I hug them,” she says apologetically.

“Hugging is okay,” you nod, and she grins and pulls you into a hug.

“Oh my god, it smells amazing in here!” she exclaims, looking around.

“I made chocolate chip cookies,” you explain, and brace yourself for rejection. “Do you want one?”

“Absolutely!” she says, and you try to hide the surprise on your face. You offer her the plate and she takes one. When she bites into it, she lets out a moan that has you blushing. “Holy shit, y/n, these are incredible! You really made these yourself?”

You feel that warmth pooling in your stomach again. You nod, smiling shyly. 

“You should be a professional baker or something, these are so so good!” she tells you, polishing off the cookie. You can’t help but smile. There are crumbs on the corners of her mouth and a smear of chocolate on her chin.

“You’ve, um, got something,” you say, pointing to your chin. “Right there. A bit of chocolate, I think.”

“Whoops,” she blushes, wiping the chocolate away with a sheepish smile.

“Oh, I have the book you wanted,” you say, figuring that she probably has things to do. 

“Trying to get rid of me so quickly?” she asks.

A pit opens up in your stomach. “No, no!” you quickly insist, but she laughs and waves you off.

“I��m just teasing,” she tells you, smiling. 

You smile back, but it’s forced. It doesn’t seem like Alessia notices, though. 

“You have a lot of books,” she says, eyeing the large bookshelf in your living room. “Have you always read a lot?”

“I used to, when I was little. I didn’t really have time to read as much when I joined the team,” you say, and wince at the mention of your leaving. She’s never brought up the fact that she essentially replaced you, and you don’t want her to.

“I’m guessing leaving the team has given you a lot more time for things like reading?” she asks, and you nod. 

“And baking,” you add, not wanting it to seem like you’ve just been sitting at home not doing anything since you left. Even if that is the truth. She doesn’t need to know that today is the first time you’ve baked in, well, years.

“True, that one is very important!” she says, taking another cookie from the plate. “Seriously, y/n, these are amazing.”

She keeps asking you things, about yourself, about books, about your life, and you don’t realise how much time has passed until you look outside to see that it’s gotten dark. She follows your gaze out of the window and jumps up.

“Shit, I didn’t realise how late it was! I really should get going,” she says apologetically.

You hold out the plate of cookies. “Want one for the road?”

The two of you message more after that. It’s weird, how easy it is to talk to her. You chalk it up to the fact that she never met you before you left. This is the only version of you she knows. She doesn’t expect anything from you.

A couple weeks later, she asks if she can borrow another book. This time she wants you to recommend something for her, and you pore over your bookshelf for hours, trying to find the perfect book for her. Once you’ve decided on one, the next task you’re faced with is what to bake this time. She didn’t mention anything about it, but after she enjoyed your cookies so much, it feels like it’d only be right to bake something again. 

This time you make pumpkin spice cupcakes with cream cheese frosting. You carefully mould little pumpkins out of marzipan to decorate the cupcakes, and you can’t help but feel a swell of pride at the look of astonishment on her face when she eats one and lets out a moan at how good it is. She keeps commenting on the little pumpkins, in awe at the fact that you made them by hand, and the warm feeling spreads throughout your body, making your fingers tingle. After she leaves, armed with a new book and two more cupcakes, you get a message from Leah, inquiring about where her cupcake is, and how come Alessia gets cupcakes but you’ve never baked anything for her, and you smile to yourself.

The days in between visits are not as good. You still spend a lot of time curled up in bed. Sometimes, you think about the future, and you usually end up falling asleep trying not to think about it, brain spiralling. 

This goes on for a few months. Every couple of weeks, Alessia visits you for a new book and some new baked goods, and every time the two of you spend a little longer talking. You both avoid the topic of you leaving the team and what you’re going to do next. You have enough money in savings that it’s not something you have to worry about, for a while at least, and thinking about it makes you want to cry, or sleep, or just not exist anymore.

One day, though, Alessia is sitting on your sofa, eating a slice of lemon cake, when she asks gently, “What are you doing, y/n?”.

The question is enough to make you burst into tears, tears that you didn’t know you’d been holding in. 

“I don’t- I don’t know,” you sob helplessly as she rushes to your side, pulling you into a hug.

“Well, what do you want to do?” she asks after you’ve calmed down a little.

The question makes you stop. You haven’t thought about that in forever. 

“All I’ve ever wanted to do is play football,” you shrug. 

“But… not anymore?” she prompts you. You can understand why she’d think that. You quit, after all.

“I don’t know. I think I do still want to play, just… not at that level. It was too much. I feel like I-” you trail off, sighing. “I feel like I lost myself. And I still don’t know where I am, or who I am. Everything just feels so hard, like it’s all so much effort, and like there’s nothing I can do to stop it all from happening, like it’s a huge wave and I’m just getting tossed around under the water, barely able to come up for air.”

She nods, not saying anything, and you feel a sudden rush of embarrassment for opening up like that.

“Sorry, I don’t know why I said all that, I-” you say, but she cuts you off.

“No, it’s okay! I asked, I want to know. And it makes sense. A friend of mine struggled with depression a lot when we were teenagers, and-”

“Wait, depression? You think I’m depressed?” you ask, confused. Alessia laughs gently, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Oh, I’m 99% sure you’re depressed,” she says. 

“Wha- I’m not depressed,” you insist, shaking your head. “It’s not like I want to hurt myself or anything.”

“Okay, but do you ever feel like it would be easier if you didn’t exist?” she asks, and you frown. “Or, like, have you lost interest in things you were previously passionate about? Do you feel tired all the time?”

“Okay,” you say, slowly. “So, maybe I’m a little depressed.”

The mean voice at the back of your mind laughs. 

“What if I’m just being dramatic, though?” you ask. “Plus, I have no reason to be depressed. I have a good life, I have nothing to worry about.”

“Look, what if you go and see someone? A doctor, or a therapist?” she suggests, and your cheeks burn at the thought of burdening someone else with your problems.

“No, it’s fine, it’s not that serious,” you say, waving a hand. “There’s definitely more important stuff they have to deal with. I’m fine, seriously.”

She raises an eyebrow but drops the topic. She brings it up the next time she comes over though, and the next, and the next. You think about it a lot.You look stuff up online, look at social media accounts talking about people’s experiences, buy books dealing with the subject. 

The next time she comes over, you tell her you’ve made an appointment with a therapist, and she hugs you tightly. 

You start seeing each other weekly, after that. Sometimes she’ll go to yours, sometimes you’ll go to hers. She’s on a mission to help you figure out what you want, and nothing is going to stop her. She buys you baking books and equipment, goes to galleries and museums with you, watches documentaries on pretty much everything and anything the two of you can find. When you mention that you’ve been thinking about learning how to play the piano, she helps you find a teacher nearby. 

Things are looking up. You still don’t know what you want to do, but you’re feeling better. Your therapist is good, and you thank your lucky stars that you’re in a position to be able to pay for private therapy. 

When Alessia rings your doorbell, you don’t think anything of it. You’d planned for her to come over to watch a documentary she’d found about llamas (you weren’t sure what revelation you were going to have about your future from watching something about llamas, but who were you to deny her?). When you open the door, she’s smiling from ear to ear and holding a box.

“I have a surprise for you,” she says, closing the door behind her gently as she comes in.

She carefully sets the box down and opens it to reveal a small ginger kitten. It looks up at you with wide eyes and lets out a small meow, then puts its paws up on the edge of the box, looking out curiously.

“Alessia, what is this? Whose kitten is this?” you ask, dumbfounded.

“Yours?” she asks, smiling sheepishly. 

“What do you mean, mine?” 

“I mean, she’s your kitten. If you want her? Oh god, please say you want her. It’s just, you talked about having a cat when you were younger, and how much you’d like to have one again, and I figured they’re a lot lower maintenance than dogs, and-” she’s cut off by you hugging her tightly. Tears prick the corners of your eyes and you try to blink them away fiercely, still hugging Alessia. 

A small mew alerts you to the kitten, who has jumped out of the box and is rubbing her head against your leg. 

“I have her stuff in the car,” Alessia says, nodding towards the door. “I’ll just go get it?”

You nod, unable to look at anything but the tiny kitten now trying to clamber up your leg. 

You’ve been seeing your therapist for about 6 months when Alessia asks you to be her girlfriend. It’s a couple months after she got you Dorothea - Dory for short (or Dorito, occasionally), as you’d named the ginger kitten. You’re stunned, but quickly nod yes as she starts to bite her lip, looking worried at your lack of answer. You hug her, feeling her breathe a sigh of relief against you, and when she kisses you she tastes like the chocolate chip cookies you’d made earlier that day, the same recipe as the first time she’d come over. 

Your therapist has been helping you figure out what you want, now that you’re slowly regaining some of the passion you’d lost. You decide that you do still want to do something with football, just, as you’d told Alessia, not professional football. You hadn’t realised how much you’d missed having time to yourself, having other hobbies outside of your work. 

You get in contact with Jonas, who puts you in contact with some other people, and before you know it you’re back at the club. Not on the team, you've made it pretty clear that that’s not what you want. Instead, you’re spending the day at the youth program. You already know by lunch time that this is what you want to do. 

Before you know it, you’re settled in as a coach for the Academy. Your days consist of working with kids, young people who have the whole world ahead of them. You still have bad days sometimes, where it feels like you can’t get out of bed. On days like that Dory cuddles up next to you in bed, and Alessia holds you close. She moves in after you get the job, claiming it makes sense, since you’re always either at her place or she’s at your place anyway. She insists that she’s still very much a dog person, but you catch her asleep on the sofa one evening, with Dory curled up on her lap, and you smile.

[hanjisick]

— COOKIES

order #6 of the coffee shop series: a cookie

ingredients. y/n x barista!felix. he’s never had a gf before. hopeless pining on felix’s end. mostly fluff with some angst. also the boys keep trying to play shitty wingmen again.

allergies. making out and felix being awkward

size. 3.2k

special add ons. felix is a sociable, confident, kind barista at yellow wood café. but once you show up on one rainy day, you turn him into a mess.

you hadn’t prepared for the rain to come so quickly.

the forecast had said that it would only pick up in the afternoon, and you figured that you would be home by then. so of course, you had left your umbrella at home.

you decided to run into the nearest building, hoping to stay there until the rain had died down a little.

it was a coffee shop, one that you hadn’t been to before. you had no clue how you didn’t know the place existed. it seemed like just your type of hang-out spot.

the difference between the café and outside was stark. looking through the windows, it was gloomy and intense, while inside, the atmosphere was warm and cozy. the smell of coffee brewing and people chatting filled your senses.

“can i help you?” you had been staring off for a minute now, your entire body drenched in rain.

“sorry,” you apologized, “i was just looking for somewhere to be until the rain stopped.”

“you’re alright! could i get anything for you while you wait?”

your eyes stared the barista up and down. he was around your age— and was the epitome of sunshine. his features were gentle and strikingly beautiful.

his name tag read “felix.”

then, you drifted towards the menu on the counter, written in chalk, slightly smudged.

“are the cookies any good?” you questioned, staring at the cute plastic containers full of baked goods, specifically the heart-shaped chocolate chip cookies.

“well, i baked them myself, so they better be good.” felix’s shy smile told you that he was proud of his baking.

“i’ll buy one and see for myself.”

usually, the freckled barista wasn’t nervous at comments like these, but your gentle eyes made his heart flip in ways that he didn’t quite understand. “will that be all?”

“for now.”

he rang you up, handing you the cookies straight out of the container.

without waiting to sit down, you bit into the cookie.

two of felix’s fingers met his neck, checking his pulse quickly— a nervous habit of his.

but his nerves turned into excitement as your eyes lit up.

“i’ll take two more cookies and a mocha, please!”

felix couldn’t help but smile widely, “our muffins are really good too. we have blueberry and chocolate chip right now, but i’m working on a recipe for a cappuccino muffin.”

you cut his ramble short, “i’ll try both. and a brownie.”

“got a sweet tooth?” he rolled up the sleeves of his baby blue cardigan to begin making your mocha, “i don’t want you to get any cavities.”

“i’ll have just one bite of each and bring it home with me,” you reasoned, taking a stool at the bar, “i have nothing better to do, anyway. the rain says it’ll last for another hour.”

“so you’re gonna spend that hour taste-testing the treats?”

“i’ve never been here before, i better start working on my regular order.”

“will you be a new regular?”

“if the mocha is good. otherwise i think i’ll just go back out into the rain, i’m already drenched anyway.”

there you go again. causing felix to worry about how good his barista skills were in a way that nobody does.

he couldn’t help but drizzle a chocolate heart on top before handing it to you.

immediately felix jumped back. “your hands are freezing!”

“that’s what happens when you’re in the rain.”

you couldn’t help but chuckle at felix’s concern. it wasn’t bad at all.

“i think this goes against every rule we have here,” felix shrugged off his cardigan, throwing it across the counter.

immediately your quiet laugh died down, your stomach twisting with butterflies. mostly at how kind the freckled boy was, but you couldn’t ignore the way that the white shirt under it clung to him tighter.

“thank you.” you wrapped yourself in the cardigan, breathing in a faint scent of a fruity perfume, almost masked by the overwhelming smell of coffee.

“felix,” chan, his boss, nudged him with a grin, “did you just do what i think you did?”

if it were any other barista, they would’ve been scolded. but felix had taken up a large spot in chan’s heart, one that meant that he refused to rebuke the boy.

“she was cold! right, y/n?” he defended, “she just came in from the rain outside.”

“so you’re just gonna give every customer your clothes if they’re cold?”

you could see a faint red tint forming on felix’s ears, “well no! but she’s new, i wanted to give her a warm welcome.”

there was a familiar look in chan’s eyes, one that felix could spot from miles away. one of knowing.

“alright then. i’m glad you were able to earn us a new customer. even if it meant giving up your clothes.”

“do you have any paper?” you interrupted with a mouthful of muffin, “and maybe a pen too?”

felix was thankful that you saved him from chan. “yeah! i’ll get it for you. hold on.”

thirty minutes later, once a spot of sunlight through the clouds had appeared, you were gone.

felix glanced over at your spot, sadness pulling on his heart, full of what if’s.

what if you didn’t come back? what if that was the last time he would see you?

he noticed the piece of paper left behind.

the title read, “felix’s bakery ranking.”

first place was the cookies. second was the brownies. then the chocolate chip muffin, then the blueberry.

“she must love chocolate,” felix jumped at jeongin’s voice from behind him, “she also got a mocha, right?”

“how do you know? you weren’t even here.”

“chan was telling the group chat.”

“he was doing what?” felix reached for the phone in his back pocket to confirm his words.

“talking about how you were mesmerized by that girl.”

“was not!”

“you totally were,” chan patted his back, “i’ve never seen you smile that wide.”

“says a lot for how much he smiles.”

felix groaned as jeongin flipped over the scrap paper.

“see you at 3 tomorrow,” he read out, looking up at felix whose eyes widened, turning to chan.

“i don’t work tomorrow! can i work tomorrow?”

“so it isn’t just you being kind?”

“i need to get my cardigan back.”

“you’re a terrible liar. just admit that you want to see her again.”

“just schedule me to work tomorrow!”

the next day, felix was walking on clouds.

the boy normally walked with a pep in his step, serving customers with a comfortable kindness that nobody else could replicate, but today there was an extra hint of sweetness to everything that he did. even some of the most unobservant customers had pointed it out.

but each of the boys knew exactly why he was acting the way that he was, thanks to the messages that chan had sent.

as the vintage clock on the wall inched closer and closer to 3, felix became more dazed, clumsy even.

“are you sure that he should be working right now?” minho shot chan a questioning look.

“just let him get it out of his system.”

“but we’re cleaning up his spill messes all for a girl that he had one conversation with. he’s hopeless.”

“i don’t even think he’s had a girlfriend before.”

“really?” minho’s eyebrows raised, “with how all of the girls stick to him like glue?”

“i don’t think he knows how much of a heartthrob he is.”

chan glanced towards felix, who was busy chatting with two girls who had stopped by just a few minutes ago, “he’s clueless sometimes.”

the bell on the door rang as you stepped in, blue sweater in hand, eyes darting across the room to find the blonde boy who immediately abandoned his conversation.

“i came to return this,” you slid it across the counter, just as felix had done the previous day, “and get a cookie as well.”

“just the cookie?”

“and a mocha.”

“your total will be—“

“just give it to her for free,” chan whispered from behind, trying to help the frantic boy.

“it’ll be free today,” felix stumbled on his words, “and maybe i could heat the cookies for you too? they’re better warm.”

“that would be great,” you took a seat at the same spot as before, “your customer service is top tier. free service and a cardigan on a rainy day?”

“we try.” felix couldn’t wipe the smile off of his face, or take his eyes off of you.

even when you weren’t paying attention to him, typing on your laptop and munching on a cookie, he would stare at you, just barely hiding behind the espresso machine.

“why don’t you ask for her number?”

felix jumped as yet another barista appeared from behind him— something that had been happening too much recently. or perhaps he was just less focused on his surroundings.

“i can’t do that. what if she rejects me?”

“she would’ve let you down by now, do you know how obvious you’re making it?” hyunjin tried to reason with him.

“i guess that’s true, but i’m nervous. she’s really pretty.”

“so? you’re pretty too.”

felix gave the compliment a light laugh, “but she’s intimidatingly pretty.”

he kept an eye on the way your eyebrows furrowed in concentration, your finger tapping to the rhythm of the café’s record player on the table.

“you’re such a hopeless romantic. just get her number. she’s gonna leave again and you’re gonna be upset that you didn’t.”

“maybe.”

with those words in mind, felix shyly approached you, hands fumbling with the hem of his shirt.

“hey,” he started, almost chickening out just from your eye contact.

his fingers went to his throat, checking his pulse, “do you think i could get your number?”

when you stared at him in silent shock for a moment, he continued, “not as, like, a weird thing! i just want to be your friend.”

he could see hyunjin out of the corner of his eye, ready to pull out his hair in frustration.

your smile faltered, but you still took the phone from his hand, saving your name as y/n.

“text me later.” there was a hint of sadness in your voice that felix didn’t fail to pick up on, but he didn’t dare to comment on it.

he ran off into the back room, ready to scream over the most embarrassing, disappointing moment in his entire life.

hyunjin followed close behind, “felix! what the hell?”

“i got nervous!”

“so you decided to friend-zone her?”

“she could’ve friend zoned me first!”

“she obviously wasn’t going to!”

“but if she did then i think i’d die!”

hyunjin was close to slamming his head against the nearest wall. “i’m gonna die right now if you don’t walk back out there and tell her that you’ve spent the whole day thinking about how pretty she is!”

“she’ll think i’m weird!”

“then i’ll do it!” felix tried to hold him back but failed as hyunjin opened the door, only to be met with an empty spot where you used to be.

felix let go, his shoulders dropping.

“where is she?”

“i guess she left,” hyunjin turned to see his devastated friend.

“did i fuck up that badly?”

hyunjin bit his lip, trying not to make it worse for him than it already was. but the truth was that, yeah, he did.

“maybe she’ll be back.”

felix texted you that night while he sat in bed, deciding on, “hi it’s felix! :)”

he kept his cardigan next to him.

perhaps it was a little creepy, but he decided to sniff it. it smelled different than usual. perhaps that’s what you smelled like.

perhaps he would never even get to know what you smelled like.

tears brimmed his eyes as he shut off his phone, staring up at the fan on his ceiling, letting the noise drown out the eerie silence.

felix wanted to slap himself for being such an idiot. he had no problem talking to people, he was the most extroverted extrovert that an extrovert could get. but he couldn’t help but question everything he did in front of you, even if he had just met you.

you didn’t respond.

when felix showed up to work the next day, it was like the sunshine was hidden behind a rainy cloud.

he knew that it shouldn’t have affected him as much as it did. he knew that checking to see if he got a text every minute wasn’t normal, or whip his head toward the door every time a customer came in.

so felix spent another night in his bed, phone in hand, staring at the text that he sent.

would it just be easier to forget about you? it’s not like he had anything going with you anyway.

it was only when he set it down for the night and closed his eyes that it began to ring, and he sprang right back up, eyes widening as he stared at the caller ID.

it was minho.

“hello?” felix answered, voice filled with sleep.

“you were upset at work today,” he stated, “is it because of that girl?”

“you could see it?”

“everyone could. like we always do.”

“i’m just gonna try to forget about it.”

“don’t.”

“what do you mean?”

“you have her number, right? come clean, text her that you were nervous. ask to meet up.”

“like a date?”

“exactly. ask her on a date.”

felix chewed on his lip, anxiety clouding his judgment once again. would he have the courage to even do that?

“chan said that you’re not allowed to work until you sort out your sadness. and nobody wants to cover your shifts, man.”

when minho hung up the phone, felix laid back against his pillows, letting out a breath of air that he didn’t know he was holding. then he checked his pulse.

opening your texts, he began typing. ‘i lied. it was something weird. you’re really pretty. you can block me if you want.’

he deleted the message.

‘actually,’

no.

‘i meant to ask for your number in a not-friend-way,’

no.

‘sorry for the other day. i was anxious and said the wrong thing, but i really wanted your number because i think you’re gorgeous. do you want to go out sometime?’

he sent the message and resisted the urge to chuck his phone across the room. instead, he threw it back down onto the bed, grabbing the nearest pillow and squeezing it as hard as he could.

minutes later, felix heard his phone buzz. he scrambled to pick it up.

‘that’s ok. i was a little disappointed, you’re rly cute :)’

it buzzed again.

‘wanna come over tomorrow and watch a movie or something?’

his fingers shook, trying to type back, ‘sounds great! does 5 work?’

you reacted to his text with a thumbs up, and then he was back to squeezing the pillow.

felix didn’t work the next day. instead, he spent the day showering, squealing, spam-texting friends, and preparing for his first-ever date.

when you opened the doorbell, you were met with quite possibly the cutest sight in the entire world.

there felix was, holding a box of freshly-baked chocolate chip cookies in his shaky hands. “i baked these for you, kind of as an apology, kind of because i wanted to impress you. and i know you like the cookies.”

you giggled at his honesty, letting him inside as you took the box, “thank you felix, you’re such a sweetheart.”

he checked his pulse.

“sorry for the mess. i tried to clean a little, but i don’t have people over often.”

“it’s okay,” he was quick to reassure you, “my house doesn’t look all that clean either. kind of comes with being a human.”

you laughed, taking a seat on the couch. he followed your actions.

“so, about the whole number thing,” he toyed with the rip on his black jeans.

“i thought you were really really beautiful.”

suddenly, he was way too aware of how close you were to him. but he wouldn’t let himself get nervous again.

“one of my coworkers was telling me to ask for your number and i was nervous and thought that you wouldn’t like me like that.”

felix sighed, “so i ended up saying the wrong thing and giving you the wrong idea.”

when he looked back up, you were smiling, holding in laughter. ���that’s honestly adorable.”

“really?”

“i got sad, i thought you were just that kind to everyone and that i was developing some crazy ego thinking that a boy as attractive as you would like me.”

“you think i’m attractive?” his ears were on fire by now, completely stiff as you leaned in to look him in the eyes.

“i don’t understand how you don’t know how attractive you are.”

“what do you mean?”

“do i have to spell it out for you?”

“probably.”

“i think you’re gorgeous.”

“i also think the same about you. you looked so cute eating all happily, and when you smile, it makes me want to kiss you.” he chewed his lip, trying to not regret his bold words.

something tense was in the air, something that made felix’s heart pound a thousand times faster.

“then do it.”

felix froze. was he supposed to tell you that he had never kissed a girl before, much less sat this close to one?

“well, are you going to? or are you getting shy again?”

“i’ve never kissed anyone.” he let his heart thud out of his chest at the confession.

your eyes visibly widened, “you? you haven’t had your first kiss?”

“or held hands with a girl. and i’ve never had a girlfriend.”

“that’s impossible.”

“i don’t know how to prove it.”

“your awkwardness does the job.”

you decided to make a move, “but i can show you how if you’d like.”

felix’s mouth went dry, unsure of what to do or say.

“it’ll come naturally. just let it happen,” you smiled reassuringly as he nodded.

climbing onto his open lap, your hands carded through his blonde hair.

you leaned in to meet his lips briefly, his eyes burning into your own.

it was a soft and gentle kiss, just like him. but his eyes were full of desire for more.

“can i have another?” his hands met your back, pulling you into him.

this time, the kiss lasted longer, so much longer that he began craving more of you, so he did what he saw in all the movies.

he slipped his tongue into your mouth, grinning against your lips in pride at his actions.

felix’s hands traveled to your waist as took your word, letting go of his anxieties and doing what came naturally.

and without even realizing it, he began to take the lead.

all of the feelings were overwhelming. the way that you tugged on his hair, how close your bodies were, the way your tongue felt against his own.

he never wanted to stop.

until his phone began ringing.

you pulled away and he let out a shaky breath, slowly opening his eyes to stare at your features up close.

“felix, your phone,” you reminded him.

he jolted out of the daze, reaching for it.

chan.

he was about to just cancel the call when he saw the spam texts, asking where he was.

with a heavy sigh, he answered with you still on his lap.

“did you make up with y/n?”

“be quiet! i’m with her right now!”

you let out a laugh.

“oh! tell her hi!”

felix hung up on his friend with a groan, turning the ringer off.

“can we go back to kissing again?”

“after he’s done blowing you up,” you pointed at the buzzing phone.

[abilouwrites]

MR. PERFECTLY FINE

Percy Jackson

(Me bcz I’ve been in love with him sense the book came out and UGH) (forgive me if my lore is wrong I read them in like seventh grade)

(I haven’t written anything in like ages so forgive me)

When you’re supposed to be dead, you don’t tend to think of the reason why. The snapping of strings and lanky legs rushing through thick forest brush. Shoulders banging against tree trunks, my tip getting ripped and snagged.

“What are we running from again?” I shout out as we near a tree, “it’s up there isn’t it?” I ask Silva.

“Yes, you can’t run any faster?” She inquires as I remain scrambling for breath and footing as thunder claps above.

“No! I can’t Silvs” I’m stumbling against the shredded grass and something is grumbling behind me. Something reaches behind me and something arises in me. A rush of adrenaline to push me over the hill and tumbling over the other side.

“SILVA!” I shout as she too comes barreling down away from the tree upon the hill, “oh my god. Holy what the hell was that” I ask as we lay against the soggy earth. We’re grasping for breath and my face is settled amongst the dirt.

“It’s all real, everything you told me. Everything you said was a joke. Was real?” I shout out as she stands back on her haunches brushing that mousy brown curly hair out of her eyes.

She nods and helps me rise to my feet and we slowly march towards a house, porch wrapped around the front, the adrenaline fades and I want to sleep for the next century.

She tucks my arm over her shoulders as we stagger to the house, legs weary and too tired to keep going, “just a few more steps” she pleads

It’s a blur, of questions and shotty answers. Even my skin hurts and aches, my head hits a pillow and I’ve ceased to exist to the world.

By the time I awake; I feel better. Still the dull pang in my joints and the dryness of my mouth. I cough against my elbow and rub the itch of my eyes.

My knees scabbed over, even the cuts and bruises on my torso and arms and legs began healing.

“Here” a voice started me from my thoughts a glass that looks like it contained apple juice, “it’ll help with the dry mouth and the joint pain” He looks at me as I nervously take the drink from him.

A nervous sip welcomes the taste of fresh banana bread, chocolate chips and southern iced tea, “that’s.. wow good. Can a drink feel like home?” I ask him

“Yeah, mine tastes like chocolate cookies.. the one my mom makes” he replies, “um there’s clothes on the chair, Silva will meet you outside. I’ll try and see you around” he nods slowly. Brown hair pushed out of his eyes. A strong shade of green.

“Thank you.. um.. I don’t know your name”

“Percy.”

“Thank you percy”

[i-am-hungry-24-7]

[Counting Down To Heaven] TF141*Reader

They wait outside the operation room for your emergency op to finish, they try to stay awake, but tiredness eventually drags them into a dream.

cw: gore and wound mentioned

Price (fear of his job will put u in danger)

He opens the door, coming back home is the thing bracing him through the grueling mission, because it means coming back to you.

The living room is full of the sweet scent of fresh-baked cookies, he hums and calls out your name, putting his hat down and walks inward, not realizing the soothing yellow light turns off itself behind him.

He frowns when he feels the air is freezingly cold he frowns, and he realizes something the moment he turns the knob on the door of you two’s bedroom

The house is too quiet, eerily silent.

His cry stucks in his throat when his eyes land on your figure, lying in the blood pool, cloudy eyes looking straightly into his.

As he drops to his knee and crawls to your side, he recognizes there’s something in his grasp.

A tactical knife dripping blood, gripped in his hand, and it suits the slash wound across your throat.

Soap (fear of being overconfident)

He tells you everything’s okay, all his plans will lead to success, don’t worry, just follow behind him.

So he never looks back to check on you during the battle, eyes lock on his enemies, adrenaline pumping through his body, heartbeats deafening, and makes him unaware of the sound of your footsteps disappears.

It’s too late when he turns around and can’t find you, the thick fog surrounding him obscures his sight, so he just runs as fast as he can towards the only tunnel with lights in the end.

Only be welcomed by your body hanging high on the tree by his enemy, but after a blink, he isn’t standing at the same spot.

He’s tying the rope around your neck and unable to stop himself.

Gaz (fear of having wrong decision)

“Give me a donut, thanks babe.” You say to him with a smile, and he leans down to press a kiss on your cheek then walks into the coffee shop.

He waits for quite a while, finally getting his order, and can’t wait to meet you outside and see your delighted face when you’re enjoying your favorite dessert.

but when he pushes open the door, all he can see is blood, gun, corpse.

Battlefield.

He yells your name immediately, trying to search for you as he rushes between countless dead bodies.

Until he spots clothes with a familiar pattern peeking out under one of the remnants that he dashes to its side, pawing at the rocks and glass even if they cut open his palms, he doesn’t care, and finally, you reveal from the gravel, with a gunshot wound right on your temple.

What he only can do is carefully hug you in his arms and regret his decision — leaving you alone.

Ghost (fear of losing his love because of himself)

He’s washing his hands, water pouring from the sink, but none of the blood is getting off of his skin.

He scrubs his hands, harder and rougher, until his skin is broken, and his blood combines with yours from the scratches scattering across his hands.

He raises his head and smashes the mirror above because no matter what he does, the blood just stains his palms.

When he finally takes a good look at the shattered mirror, he sees you in it.

Bloody and pale, lifeless. Glints no longer exist in your eye, and he crumbles to the floor with a desperate sob.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

In Abstract 1

A sequel no one asked for. First Series: Portrait of a Dangerous Man

Warnings: noncon/rape, some violence, blood, alluded murder (for now?), grief, confusing, criminal allusions, some untagged extreme events.

This is dark!mob!Clark Kent x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You adjust to life with Clark, thought the past won't seem to let you go.

Character: mob!Clark Kent

Note: I don't know where this came from.

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :) I appreciate your comments and enthusiasm! Reblogs help and are like candy, so please, feed me.

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

A speck of red. A speck of red in a sea of blue. From the observer's eye, one would not notice. But the creator, the artist, the start error is obvious. No inadvertent, but entirely deliberate. A reminder of what it cost you.

You close your eyes and the fleck of blood sears in your mind. Like the site of your boyfriend gasping his last breaths. Ex, now. For a while. It feels like yesterday yet no time at all.

You shiver and hug yourself through the white cashmere. The sweater offers little warmth in the cold house. The glass doors look out onto the white lawn, a fresh dusting of snow trims the covered pool and blankets the landscape. It would be beautiful to any who did not know the sinister secrets of this place. The crimes witnessed by these walls alone.

You turn away from the portrait hung above the gaping fireplace. Even the crackling flames cannot warm you. There is no comfort in this house or the man who resides there. A warden, a maniac, a murderer.

You near the glass doors, eyes drawn to how the snow gathers in corners. The thin sheet of frost that cakes the panes and the fog of your breath as you stand close. The world outside is obscured by your own existence.

Silence. Stillness. Distance. Isolation. The vast grayness of your small world trapped behind a transparent wall. You touch the handle, feeling the cold metal, gripping it tight. A sudden urge to run out and dive into the heaps.

"Dinner tonight?" Clark's voice claps like thunder through the lull.

You gasp and recoil from the door. You turn to him, hugging yourself as much out of fright as the temperature. You step away from the door and your yearning for escape.

"Dinner," you repeat, your hollow voice echoing off the high ceilings.

"Yes, your mother is coming to town? We'll get her from the airport and take her to Elliston's?"

"Are you asking or telling?" You mutter as you drop your arms, tucking your hands up the cuffs.

You sweep away, crossing to the archway that opens into the spacious kitchen. You go to the counter and flip up the lid of the coffee machine. You focus on the rack of pods. It's habit more than anything, often you let your cup go cold, basking in the scent but too numb to taste it.

He follows. You sense him. Like you always do. Always hovering. Always watching.

"Don't be like this. You've been looking forward to her visit."

You grumble as you pick out the cinnamon cookie pod and shove it in the top. You shrug. Not really. You only ever play the part he wants. Move your brush to his whim, streak the paint by his word, lay on your back as he gets what he wants.

"And I have been too. I can't wait to meet your family. All of them."

Your chest winds tight. You can't tell if it's a threat or genuine. He is always hard to decipher. If you had ever been able to see through him, you wouldn't be standing there, trapped in his house, in his grip.

Five months. Five months in your cell. Five months with Marcus' blood on your soul. 

"I'll get a room ready," you put a mug under the spout and hit the brew button. 

He lurks closer. You stare and wait for the drip to begin. He puts his hands on your shoulders, the fabric turning course beneath the weight of his grasp.

"Nina's already working on it," he growls into your crown, "don't act so hard done by…"

"I'm not," the trickle spits out and hits the porcelain sharply.

"I give your more than he ever–"

You tear away from him, sliding along the counter as you spin to face him. He clucks and tilts his head, slowly pivoting towards you. The anger cordons in his cheek.

"I told you…"

He scoffs. "You're right, he was nothing. Not worth talking about. Sweetheart, it was always going to be me."

You clamp your lips shut as your eyes sting. He doesn't wake up every day in horror, he doesn't sink into sleep like a stone in mud, he doesn’t know what it is to live in black and white when the world used to be painted in a million colours.

"I'll confirm what time she gets in."

He sighs and crosses his arms. You look down at the white sweater and unroll the crumpled hem. You didn't wear cashmere before, no silk, no satin. Just cotton and tweed. Now you wear what he tells you to.

"Find something to wear for dinner," he demands, "and after."

He crosses the pristine tile and you look at him in the face, eyes glossy and pathetic. He kisses your forehead as his hand comes up to your chin, his thumb stroking your lips. He inhales your scent and lets out a growl.

"Wear the diamonds," he demands.

He lets you go and leaves you there. You watch after him as he stalks off, checking the time on his wristband. He clears his throat as he turns out of your sight. Your vision blurs to a muddy blur.

The coffee machine dings and brings you back. As much as you love your mother, how do you explain this to her? Lies are easier on the phone, but face to face, the truth is clear to see.

🎨

Your mother pulls you into a hug, her suitcase forgotten at her side. It's been almost a year since you last saw her. You and Marcus made a rare trip down for her birthday. As solitary as she prefers her life, she cherishes your rare company.

"Tweety bird, it's been so long," she hugs you, swaying you with her. She releases tou and holds you at arm's length, "don't you look like a dead mouse?"

"Ha, yeah, I was up late… painting," you smile thinly.

"Never change," she chides as you sense a shadow approach. Clark grabs the handle of her suitcase and rolls it towards him as he puts his hand on your back. "Oh, who… is this?"

"Clark," you try not to show your frustration. Your mother's always been a touch flightly, "I told you about him."

"Ah, yes, oh, that Marcus," she tuts and shakes her head, "couldn't believe it when you said he ran off but then again, I wasn't unhappy."

"Mom," you sniff.

"Well? He always left his dirty socks on the couch."

You bite the inside of your cheek. You'd rather not talk about him. You fear she'll see right through your story. Clark takes his hand off your back.

"Nice to meet you–" he begins.

"Don't be silly," she pulls him into a hug, an impressive feat as she is rail thin, "you must be the one saving my gal from heartbreak."

"Um, sure," he snorts, "you're Janine?"

"That's the one," she pulls back and fixes her wild waves, "I'm afraid she hasn't given me more than your name."

"She's been busy. Commissions and all," Clark puts on that perfect act. The gentleman with all the charm. The one you fell for. "We hope you're not too tired, I suggested a reservation for dinner…"

"Oh, yes, please, I'm starving. That airplane food is better avoided," she trills, "besides just ask Tweety, I'm mot much of a sleeper."

You shake your head in confirmation and she grins wider. Clark rolls her bag around and waves his arm ahead of him, "ladies."

"Oo, finally got yourself a gentleman."

"Mhmm," you hum as you start forward, "something like that."

🎨

You watch the wine flow into the glass, filling the belly with a rich burgundy colour. Your mother looks around emphatically as Clark gives a curt nod of dismissal to the server. You're left to peruse the menu.

“Wow, this is a fancy place,” your mom comments as she opens the leather folio containing the menu, “where was it Marc would take us? Denny’s?”

You give her a look. It’s strange, you’re mother was never one to turn her nose up at simplicity but there were some very specific sticking points when it came to your boyfriend. Ex. Or maybe money really does corrupt all.

The wine is stringent. You don’t like it. You take a hefty swig and set the stem down heavily. Clark gives you a look. Right, he has his curated image, you have to fit into that.

“So mom, how was your flight?”

“Ah, it’s fine. But I was sat next to this skinny fellow. So nervous. Jittered the whole way. I had to close the window because it made him sick. So I took a nap.”

“I hope you don’t mind shacking up with us. I thought of a hotel but we have more than enough room,” Clark suggests, “after a long day, I’m sure you’d like to just relax.”

“With us? You live together?” Your mom raises her brows.

“You knew this. Remember?”

“No, you said you moved out of your apartment, I don’t remember a where or with who. This is moving fast,” she says, “definitely not a rebound then?”

You cringe. Clark is a better actor than you. He laughs. Or maybe it is really that funny. Laughing at your dead ex and the ensuing predicament. You take another gulp of the disgusting wine.

“Well, the salmon looks interesting, “but I do prefer halibut…” she mulls over the listings, “oh, prawns. Tweety, don’t you remember when you drank all my vodka and puked up seafood all night?”

“Mom,” you swallow.

“Tweety, that’s an interesting nickname,” Clark says, opening the door for further humiliation.

“Ah, yes, well, funny story.”

“Not really,” you intone.

Your mother ignores you as she closes her menu and rests it on the table in front of her. “Her aunt used to give her Tweety Bird everything. Pajamas, stuffies, notebooks… she hates Tweety Bird. Always has but she was too nice to tell my sister so she had this little collection. I bet it’d be worth a bit now. Vintage and all that.”

“Oh, Tweety,” Clark echoes, “interesting. Cute.”

“Yellow did always suit her.”

“Anything suits her, doesn’t it?” He puts his hand over yours, “I tell her all the time. She makes paint stains look incredible. You wouldn’t believe it, at the end of the day she walks out of the studio looking like, uh, what’s that artist that does the splashes?”

“Pollock,” you answer dully.”

“She was always obsessed with men with too much time and not enough talent,” your mother remarks, “art, I’m just happy she isn’t still working at the coffee shop.”

“That was like six years ago,” you retort.

“Still, you have a degree, you should use it.”

“And she does,” Clark assures, “she’s wonderful at what she does.”

“Aw,” your mother almost fawns, “you’re such a sweetheart. Where did she find you and where do I get one?”

You barely restrain from rolling your eyes. Clark basks in the praise. You empty your glass and feel the slosh in your mind. It might be a bit too much but the wine makes the nights go quicker.

You decide on a salad. You’re not hungry. Your appetite is scant at best, food is a necessity, not a joy. Like much of your life now. It makes you miss those numbers you thought were so dire. The easy life of putting numbers in boxes and putting frozen lasagna in the oven.

The server returns and you turn your attention to his convenient arrival. You need the distraction. He nods to your empty glass and you see how Clark takes notice as well.

“Did you require more, mademoiselle?” He offers.

“One will do until we have our entrees,” Clark insists, “no good drinking on an empty stomach.”

You smile and take the stout glass of water from beside the stemmed glass, “thank you. He’s right.”

“Do we know what we’re having?” The server asks.

Clark defers to your mother with a gesture. She orders first. Halibut with the seasonal vegetables. Clark has his usual filet mignon, and you get the cobb salad. You hand over your menu and sit back, twiddling your fingers in your lap.

“Salad,” your mother comments, “when she was a teen, I couldn’t pry the onion rings out of her hands. Now look at her. It’s catching up, isn’t it?”

“Nothing wrong with being mindful,” Clark comments as he brushes his fingertips along his thick beard. He’s let it grow out, his hair too, the curls spiraling past his ears. “It’ll save room for dessert, they have a delicious creme brule.”

“Mmm, amazing–” your mother’s voice catches and she looks past you.

You don’t react right away as another serve sneaks up on you. Clark reaches behind him with one hand, covertly as if trying not to give himself away, and brings it forward as you peek up at the woman all in black. She giddily grins and backs up.

Clark takes a breath and pushes back his chair as he rises. He turns and kneels as the server hovers nearby, hands clutched together. Several other tables hush and servers look up from their work. You feel time halt as your ears ring.

Clark presents a red velvet box as your mouth falls open. For those strangers all around, those who don’t know about you or him, it must look like shock, even glee. But it's thrumming, crashing terror. No. No. Your eyes pinpoint on the large diamonds as he reveals it, three rings of smaller ones around the large.

You look up over his head then over at your mother. She dabs her eyes and covers her mouth in disbelief. You wobble as you turn back to Clark. His voice rumbles in your ears but you can’t make out the words. You blink. And blink. And blink. Gaping like a dead fish.

“...marry me?...”

His question hangs before you. You could keel over and shrivel up. You could stand up and flee. Run until you can’t stop. You close your eyes and see the blood spurting from Marcus’ chest. The image of your mother’s face flits across your mind, replacing his. You won’t let him hurt her too.

“Yes.”

The voice is not your own. It can’t possibly be because you can’t feel it on your tongue but it tickles in your ears. Clark snatches your hand and forces the diamond on, standing as he tugs you up and pulls you into an embrace. He tilts your head and kisses you. The fairy tale he writes for the onlookers is nothing more than a cautionary tale.

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Down Bad - A Joel Miller Drabble

Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Pairing: Pre Outbreak Joel Miller x Female Reader Word Count: 800 Summary: You get ghosted after a one night stand with your handsome neighbor. Warnings: Drinking, smut remembrance, angst. A/N: Happy Tortured Poets Department release day! Thank you to @beskarandblasters for the amazing Taylor Swift Drabble Challenge AGAIN. I previously wrote Paper Rings for it. TBH, I stayed up until 3:30 AM listening to TTPD last night with @ohheypedrito and your girl is STRUGGLING TODAY, but well worth it. What an album.

Masterlist

One night out with your friends, one shared glance, one half smile, one opportunity, one drink bought, one phone number drunkenly tapped into his phone. 

One date, one heated make out session in his truck, one moment of being heaven struck, one naked body left alone in your bed as he quietly leaves without a word. 

One text telling him you had a good time, one week since you’ve heard from him, countless hours of yearning for your neighbor. 

Across the street and two houses to the left, Joel Miller lives. Well manicured lawn, cute daughter who goes door to door selling Girl Scout cookies, large truck parked out the front dinged and well used. 

You’ve been down bad for him since you first moved in, a quick introductory hello and wave one early morning as you took your dog for a walk, how could you be so attracted to a total stranger?

That stranger ignoring you from that moment on, leaving you feeling nuts. Sometimes you’d take your dog for a walk when you’d notice him mowing the lawn, sneaking a glance under your sunglasses, watching the sweat make his skin glisten. Teenage crush vibes, teenage petulance coming out because you can’t have him or his attention. 

You never see him with another woman there, only his loud, precocious brother Tommy who stops to talk with you whenever you’re outside. You know he likes you, but you’re too drawn to his older brother’s beam to even want to lead him on. 

That night shared between the two of you, it almost feels like an evil experiment. He fucked you, fucked you hard, stared into your eyes as he came all over you, devoured your cunt as if he was starving, made you cum so hard it felt like you were floating in a cosmic cloud of sparks, then he left you naked and alone. He owned your body, like it was some sort of hostile takeover. 

You’re barely even sure it happened, like if you speak about the existence of that night, everybody will tell you it never happened, that you’re nuts.

Why did he leave you like that? Why did he strand you the way he did? Why can’t you have him? Why cant you have an us? 

Doesn’t he know what you would do for his attention? How you feel like you could just die when you think back to that night? You’re pathetic for him, isn’t it romantic?

You replay the words he uttered against your skin as he fucked you. “You feel so fucking good, like you were made for me.” 

The taste of your sweat against your lips makes you almost want to cry as you try to run the thoughts of him away on the treadmill at the gym. The last time you sweat like this his cock was stretching you, his hand holding your cheek, his tongue languidly licking into your mouth. 

——

After a night of staring at the ceiling, sleep not visiting you, tossing and turning not being able to get the thought of the weight of his body against yours, you decide to sit out on your porch with coffee in hand, staring at the sky as dawn approaches. A door slamming across the street startles you. He’s outside. This is it, you live in the same old familiar town, he can’t escape you, you can’t escape him. You trudge across the street, only clad in your shorts and your old Rangers shirt. You wave at him to get his attention as he finishes lifting his tool box onto his lift gate. 

You see him swallow as you stand at the edge of his driveway. 

“G’morning,” he nods. “Quite early.”

“It is. Could’t sleep.” 

“Happens to me too.”

“Mm,” you tap your foot, arms folded across your chest. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, not at all.”

“Then why are you ignoring me?”

“S’complicated.”

“Try me, it’d make no difference.”

“Alright,” he runs a hand through his hair, “you’re too good. I don’t think it’s smart… for me to be with someone right now. Too much going on, ’n it’s safer if we just leave it at that. It’s better for you.”

“So, you fuck me, whisper all those sweet things in my ear, make me feel like I’m the chosen one, then just leave? How romantic Joel.”

“Never said I was the romantic type.”

“No, you’re just the fuck ‘em and strand ‘em. I guess.”

“Listen,” he looks down at his watch, “I gotta get goin’, got an important job to start. I really would like to talk more, I respect you too much ’n I really like you, I just think it’s better if you find someone else.”

“Right, well, see you around neighbor,” you bite.

Fuck it, you can’t have him. 

[yellowharrington]

jaded - chapter 4, carmy berzatto x reader

pairing + fandom: carmen “carmy” berzatto x fem!reader (she/her pronouns used), the bear fx

warnings: smoking mention, minors dni with this story please.

word count: 2k

a/n: ok literally i am the worst ever and i totally didn't finish this fic even tho i started it so im finally posting the last part literally MONTHS later!!! sorry besties but i couldn't have an unfinished fic out there in the world so... if u fuck w this story at all thank u for reading it and all the encouraging and nice things people have said, it literally made me want to complete this fic so thank u <3

summary: tying up loose ends.

and it's a fuckin' shame that it ended like that you broke your own heart, but you'd never say that we went to hell, but we never came back

masterlist | chapter 3

It all just feels numb.

Sun coming up over the horizon and a light snowfall onto the street below. Your home is quiet, no pans in the kitchen making French omelettes, no TV playing outside the bedroom door as you sleep. No toothbrushing in the bathroom or running shower water, warm and steamy, inviting you in.

It’s not that you weren’t expecting his answer. Or, lack thereof. It’s that he couldn’t make up his fucking mind. First, he’s cooking you an omelette in your favourite pan with a cup of coffee made exactly the way you like it. He’s spending every evening on the couch with you, your hands splayed out against his stomach, comfortable beneath the waistband of his sweats. You’re in his sweater, baking fresh warm cookies so he can have one before bed, smudges of chocolate against your lips as he pushes you up against the counter, hot skin on cold tile.

Next, he has that look on his face, where he’s somewhere else. Thinking of her, in a dreamland where he can make it right again, and it all feels like it comes crashing down. The sweet nothings don’t exist in this realm, there’s no happiness here.

And when you do have to face him on Monday, it’s back to cold shoulder, nothing different. Yes chef, no chef, thank you chef. 

Sydney tries to make conversation, and you feel bad because you won’t bitch about Carmy like you usually would. Richie’s having secret meetings with Natalie, probably more about Claire, but you don’t even think to join in. It hurts, it hurts so fucking much, and it’s hard enough to go outside and take a fucking break from it all, let alone be in the same cramped kitchen with him. There’s no solitude, just aching, just disappointment.

“Did you order me a new cake pan, chef?” It’s directed at Tina, who looks up at you with the same wistful softness as she always does, smiling before nodding in your direction. You don’t hear her slide over to you, but when she suddenly appears at your station, you can tell she just knows something’s wrong.

“What’s up with you?” she asks, clipboard finding it’s way to the counter beside you, where a piping bag lays. “You’re not yourself. Something… wrong. Don’t tell me a boy did this to you.” The tears prick at your eyes and you swallow it all before you can get out a word, because yeah, it all fucking aches and the hurt feels like it’s sitting right behind your eyes, in your throat, ready to come out.

“It’s nothing. It is a boy but, boys are stupid and I’m not gonna cry over one,” you sniffle, before untying your apron and letting it hang loose on your body. “Not worth it.”

“It’s him, isn’t it?”

Your blood runs cold when she gestures just outside to the bright light of the door, where Carmy sits, phone in one hand, cigarette in the other.

Luckily the kitchen is empty when you reply, only so she can hear, “how did you know?”

“I saw the way you looked at him this morning.”

“Does anyone else know?”

“Fuck no. Between you and me, chef.”

You sighed relief, letting your front hit the counter as the stress left your body. “Thank fuck. Yeah, I don’t know, we were-“

“Fuckin’?” Tina’s got a sly smile on her face that makes it impossible not to laugh with her.

“Yeah, I guess. It felt like more than that. But apparently he’s still hung up on Claire so, I guess that ends it.”

She exhales slowly, joining you in a lean against the counter. “Jeff makes mistakes, everyone knows that. He’s moody and sad and he’s got fuckin’ problems, that kid, I tell ya.” She pauses for a second, eyes meeting yours, sincere. “But he’s good. I just don’t think he can handle himself, is all.” She takes a beat, letting her soft hand lay over yours, “He doesn’t let himself have the good shit because it always gets ruined. But you’re good. He’s scared of you.”

“He should be scared of me. I’m gonna fucking kill him,” you mutter, letting your floured hand meet your forehead in annoyance. “I’m not responsible for fixing his shit.”

She nods, agreeing with you, a hand cupping yours on the counter. “No, you’re not. I’m just saying he could use someone like you to bring him back to Earth, is all.”

-

When Carmy does make it back inside, he’s thumbing through paperwork at the desk, hand through his hair stressfully pulling at the strands. He’s trying so hard not to stare at you from where he’s sitting, noticing your cold gaze, somewhere far away. He takes out his phone to scroll through it mindlessly, procrastinating, when he meanders his way to the text icon and opens up your thread. A few texts here and there, mostly just asking about plans to come over, the occasional sexy photo or recipe idea.

[sunday, 10:26] they don't have fresh sourdough. should we just make some this aft?

[saturday, 4:35] i hate when you go in on saturdays

[saturday, 4:36] Photo Recieved

[saturday 4:36] don't you wish you were home with me?

[tuesday, 12:22] is balsamic glaze overdone? lmk. miss u.

It feels a little too domestic, seeing the way he so effortlessly became comfortable with you, a warmth and excitement that was just never there with Claire. It’s raw and it’s guilty and he’ll beat himself up over it forever, but it was never going to be perfect with her, no matter how hard he tried.

“Boss?”

Richie appears in the office, leaning against the door frame before noticing Carmy’s disheveled look. “Yeah?”

“You look worse than usual.”

“Thanks. What do you need?”

“Well, I was gonna ask if you ordered more eggs.”

“I, uh, yeah. Yeah, I think Sydney did.”

“What’s wrong with you?”

It’s like Richie could see right through him.

“Nothin’. Stupid shit.”

Richie steps into the office, leaving the door only slightly ajar.

“Cousin.”

Richie can be sweet when he wants to be, and when he’s got a hand on Carmy’s shoulder and a somber look in his eyes it’s like he already knows how Carmy feels.

“Why do I suck so bad at being a fuckin’ normal person?”

Richie sits next to him, a look of surprise. “Is this about Claire bear?”

“Yes, well - yeah, and also no. Kinda. I don’t know.”

“Is it about Miss Buttercream out there?”

He gestures to you outside the door, zesting some orange on top of the cake you were finishing up. Carmy stifles a laugh.

“We all know you’re porkin’ her.”

“Don’t say that,” Carmy laughs, hand coming up to his face to rub his eyes. “It’s more than that. We’ve been kinda, dating, I guess? I still don’t know what counts as having a girlfriend.”

“So what did you do?”

He gnaws at the skin of his thumb and lets his eyes flicker up to Richie’s. “Fucked it. Last night, I, uh,-“ his hand finds his warm forehead. “I really like her, like a lot. But she asked about Claire and I said the wrong thing, like I always do and uh, she didn’t like it.”

“She’s good,” Richie starts, letting his hands find his aproned thighs as he sits at the corner of the desk. “Claire was good for you too. But she didn’t… get it. Not like she does,” he gestured vaguely to your station outside the door. “Claire was never gonna get the restaurant and the kitchen and the fuck of it all.”

Richie's hand extends to cup Carmy's shoulder.

“Look, do whatever you want, but there isn’t really someone who matches you like she does. Claire’s history now, drunk phone calls don’t mean she’s still in love with you. If that’s what you were thinking.”

Carmy sits back in the creaky chair. “Nah, not that. I just don’t know how to do it right.”

“It’s not about doing it right,” Richie’s got sincerity in his eyes. “It’s about fuckin’… trying shit. Just go and make a move and see.” Carmy watches you hang up your apron on the hook and grab a hoodie before fucking outside. “Yeah, yeah. Thanks Richie.”

“Good luck.”

- 

“I’m sorry.”

Carmy’s voice takes you out of your trance as you stare into the back alley of the restaurant. “Hi.”

“Can we talk?”

“You can talk, I’ll listen.”

The crackle of his lighter, orange flame against white snow. You can see his breath slipping from between his lips as he exhales out of the corner of your eye.

“I feel like a fuckin’ asshole,” he starts, plunging his other hand in his pocket. “I don’t know what to say.” A beat. “Can you look at me?” It’s gentle, a question, not a demand.

You turn to look at him. Cold blue eyes, darkened by the brightness around you. “You’re not second best to me. You’re it, this is it. I like this, I, I fuckin’,” he takes a breath, “I love… this. I want this.”

“You hurt my feelings, Carmen,” tears brimming your eyes and coating your lashes. “If you’re not done with Claire, I don’t… I don’t care. If I am your second choice, fine.” 

“You’re not.”

“Even if I was. But don’t fuck me around if you don’t want me.”

“I do.”

“Are you sure? You weren’t sure last night.”

“I get it if you don’t trust me. I get it. I haven’t given you a reason to.” He searches for the right words, but chooses to take a tentative step towards you. “I’ll beg for you,” he’s quiet, unlike Carmy. “Anything.”

Your eyes meet his briefly, a soft smile pulling at your lip. “I’m not saying yes, okay?” He nods. “But I am saying I would appreciate a ride home tonight. If you’re serious.”

“I’m serious.”

“Good.”

-

The walk up to your apartment is easy. His heavy steps behind your light ones, hands sliding up the bannister as you unlock your door. He’s on your heels, a little behind. When he steps in your apartment, it’s familiar. Browned butter, vanilla, laundry. 

“Do you want dinner?” He’s tentative, letting his shoes sit next to yours on the mat. His jacket goes up on the hooks by the door, together. 

“Are you offering?”

“Yes.”

Carmy shows love through food, that’s how he always is. You can tell he’s feeling particularly sorry about it all because he’s bringing out a big pasta pot and a saucepan, pulling the only fresh ingredients left in your place and putting them next to the stove top. Your t-shirt finds its way into the laundry basket, an old sweater thrown over your bare skin.

You hate how normal it all feels, because it’s scary. To think of a domestic life with him, where there’s another girl lingering in the background of his thoughts that he has unfinished business with. Insecurities of who is better, prettier, happier, warmer… if he had the chance, would he leave? Would he jump ship?

He sits next to you while you eat, thighs against thighs, and comfortable silence blanketing your small apartment. He hasn���t gotten into one of the many pairs of pyjamas he’s left at your place, or taken his usual after-work shower, or taken out the frozen cookie dough to thaw. You can tell he’s not sure if he’s welcome here for good, yet.

When your food is done, he pushes the plates away and takes a calloused hand to wrap around yours. There’s sharpie marks small knife cuts on his fingers. 

“Are you gonna stay the night?” You ask, still not meeting his gaze. 

“Am I welcome to?” He doesn’t sound like himself, and you can feel his warm breath near the top of your head as you turn towards him. Your body collapses a little then, folding slightly at the middle to have your head fall right into the centre of his chest.

“Yes, Carmen,” you nod, letting your eyes flicker up to meet his. “You can stay for as long as you want.”

His hand slipped from yours then, sliding around your side and up your back. He pulled you into his embrace, lips wrapped around yours in a soft capture. Your hands found their way under his t-shirt, only slightly, his warm skin against the palms of your hands, pulling him impossibly closer. 

And when you lay in bed with him that night, your face burrowed into the softness of his chest, you know the days of waking up alone are over. 

[nochd]

This came across my dash via the #lgbt tag yesterday. I don't want to engage with the OP because that would get me into fights on radfem tumblr and I don't have the energy for that. But the post itself I think is worth answering, just because it's so neatly and exactly wrong.

(Not that my answer is going to spread very far, because I have 37 non-bot followers, of whom I think roughly 35.5 are just here for the nude photos. But anyway.)

Even if I agree just for argument's sake that the existence of intersex people proves that some people can have "nonbinary" sexes, or "third" sexes, and that "sex is a spectrum," how does that have any relevance to people who are not intersex? Like okay, let's "agree" for the moment that intersex people are something other than male or female. How does that make YOU, as a person who is not intersex, something other than male or female? Saying that intersex people's existence somehow makes sex "complicated" for you specifically is like saying that the issue of whether or not you can hear is "complicated" because some other people who are not you suffer from hearing loss or deafness. Like sorry but for 99% of the human population it is not "more complicated" than born with perfectly normal male genitalia = male and born with perfectly normal female genitalia = female, and chances are you fall into that 99%. Sex is not a social construct or a nebulous enigma of a concept. It is not debatable and made up in the manner that gender is. You cannot philosophize about whether there are two sexes any more than you can philosophize about whether humans have two kidneys. Someone having a missing or malformed kidney or accessory kidneys does not change the fact that humans as a species have two kidneys. Humans are gonochoric just like nearly all other animal species on Earth.

Let's start with the arithmetic. If 99% people are of binary sex, that leaves 1% of people who aren't. There are approximately 8 billion humans on Earth. 1% of 8 billion is 80 million -- about sixteen times the population of my entire country. Even just the number of intersex Americans is something like two-thirds the population of my country. This is not a negligible number of people.

There's a deeper error here, one that goes to the root not just of this misunderstanding but of many. Biology is always complicated, at every scale and at every level of explanation. It's messy, it's fuzzy, and it's always bottom-up, never top-down. Everything biological is the way it is because it grew that way. Biology never does the same thing twice.

Why does it seem like it does? Because, of all the ways you can arrange the parts of a living body, only an astonishingly tiny fraction of them actually make a living body. Any genetic mutation that nudges an organism outside of that fraction dies out and doesn't get passed on. Embryonic development is a gruelling tight-rope walk over a vast pit of non-existence.

Now for most of the body's systems, evolution has only had to produce one arrangement that works and survives. There's not an alternative plumbing plan where the oesophagus goes to the lungs and the trachea to the stomach. But for the reproductive system, evolution has to allow for two arrangements that work and survive, and it has to grow them both from the same starter kit.

What it does, therefore, is grow a body plan that works with a continuum of possible arrangements that includes both of those two. Various other points on the continuum may or may not be capable of producing viable gametes, but they're all survivable.

What biology doesn't do -- what biology never ever does -- is run new products on a conveyor belt stamping them into shape with cookie-cutters. The only things made that way are artificial constructs.

[instexcamera]

The Beginning

Cyberpunk!AU HiMERU x Fem!Reader

Warnings: vaginal sex, fingering, over stimulation, vanilla sex, kinda gentle sex, crying, soft dom HiMERU(sorta), unprotected sex

A/N: This is my longest fic yet! I've spent around 7 hours working on this over the course of three days I think? This based on a cyberpunk AU I came up with randomly one day and I was thinking of turning it into a series, and this would be the first part, hence the name, I'm so smart when naming things. I would also like to add reader uses GN pronouns and the smut doesn't start till the end, everything before that is explaining the AU and how you got in the position you're in.

Word Count: 6.4k

18+ under cut

Flattening yourself against the wall of the building, listening intently to see if any conversation could be heard. When none was, your body relaxes automatically, before tensing back up. Just because no sound could be heard didn't mean no one was there. Hunters and cyber psychos weren't idiotic enough to go around blundering, announcing their presence at every turn.

No, they'd be lying in wait, waiting for prey to come stupidly along for them to sweep up. Yet, none of them should care if they notice you, you're just a regular civilian. Well, a civilian who’s trying to sneak into a convenience store and steal snacks. You had thought rationing would have kept your stocks up for at least two more days, but it seemed your calculations were off. Which is why you were out like that idiotic prey, just waiting to be snatched up.

You could have waited until morning, the cyber psychos were barely out then, same with the hunters. Yet your hunger couldn't be held off, you needed something, just a pack of cookies and soda would work until daylight. So here you were, running across the neon lit street to the closest convenience store you could find. Once reaching the place, yanking open the door, immediately putting on a calm manner as you walk in. The cashier doesn't look up at you, in fact he barely acknowledges your existence, too focused on the magazine he's pushed up in his face.

The magazine had a blonde haired woman in some suggestive outfit winking on the cover, rolling your eyes and ignoring him. This type of stuff wasn't uncommon now with how the city was. Years ago technology reached an all time high. AI was booming, microchips could be implemented in your brain, and, of course, high tech weapons were made. It didn't take long for a corporation, the Tenshouin Empire, to use those weapons and take control of the government. They used their new found power to create a type of metropolis. Demolishing smaller apartments and offices to create huge buildings, reaching high in the sky. Of course everywhere outside the metropolis fell into poverty from this.

Except a year later the Tenshouin Empire realized the place outside was poor and destroyed most of the buildings, replacing them with bigger and better ones at least. You lived in one now, the apartment wasn't bad if you were being honest, the view was breathtaking, especially at night. The city was neon, TV screens mounted on the tops of buildings lighting everything up. You loved it, that was one of the only great things that came from this new era.

The inside of your apartment was big, holding a living room, kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom. A floor to ceiling window spanned the length of the living room and that's where you spent most of your time. The rent's cheap which is a bonus, high tech things were cheap nowadays, another benefit of the era. But of course cheap rent and a beautiful view didn't take away from the fact you lived in a poverty stricken area. Junkies would line the streets, sex addicts would too, either fucking someone they found or in a vr world, playing some C rated porn game.

Your neighbor's weren't the best either, thin walls allowed you to hear when people screamed from some illegal acts or the creaking of beds when they were doing something else. Which was quite often, but you could block out the noise, with your own games. Vr is a savior in this world. Flashing back to reality when you held both things you had come for in your hands, swiping some candy too. You stand by the exit to the convenience store, waiting to see if the cashier would look up from what he was doing. You couldn't even see his face, only hearing pants coming from him and deciding you could just walk out, no consequences would come of it.

As you walk out of the little store, stepping back into the night, you wonder why this store had not been destroyed. Most of them this small had been, and it amazed you how it had managed to survive. You think about the luck you had had, either because the cashier was too engrossed in the magazine, or simply because he didn't care. Even if he had come after you, you could've outran him, not the first time you've done something like that. Stealing is how you make a living after all, going onto trains or sneaking into the metropolis and pickpocketing anyone you could. You used the money to pay your apartments rent and the rest to buy games or whatever else you wanted.

You had been surprisingly lucky tonight much to your relief, making it to the store and now back to your apartment, with candy too. As you thought that the building you were walking beside shook and blew up. There was no warning, no telling who did it, all you knew was that one second you were on the ground, the next flying through the air, your food was gone. Your last thought before the waves of darkness take over is I hope death treats me well.

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

Dark fuzzy blue light is the first thing that hits your eyes when you open them. Then the throbbing pain begins, it's in your back, legs, head, anywhere on your body from the feeling. Your vision is blurry and a dark green blob appears above you, saying something you can just about make out from the ringing in your ears. "Ngaah! Oshi-san they're awake!" Oshi-san? Who the hell? You try to say something but your tongue feels heavy in your mouth. At least your vision is starting to come back into focus, the ringing in your ears slowly silencing.

"Kagehira quiet!" The dark green blob disappears from your sight, instead being replaced by a light pink one, leaning in close to your face. As your vision returns to normal you make out short light pink hair and purple eyes on the new person. He stares at you with a sneer, a disgusted look on his face. "Looks like you're awake dear, I don't understand why HiMERU dragged you back and demanded we heal you. But, I haven't seen him this concerned about anyone since Kaname." Kaname? The name doesn't sound familiar, but nothing here looks familiar either. The pink haired man leaves your sight, mumbling unintelligible words under his breath.

Your hearing comes back ever so slowly as the minutes pass, along with your sight. The pink haired man comes back around 10 minutes later with a plastic cup. You can finally see and hear clearly this time, but the aching pain only gets worse. "You need to drink this, it'll ease your pain, but you have to sit up first. I will not have you spilling it on anything. Kagehira, help them up." The pink haired guy, which you found quite rude, sets down the drink and moves away, the dark green haired man taking his place, who you assume is Kagehira. "This is gonna hurt, I won't lie to ya. But ya have to deal with it, drinking this will make the pain leave just like Teach said."

He grips you under the arms, yanking you into a sitting position. The pain is excruciating when he pulls you up, your head rolls back and you see more of the room you're in. It looks like a medical office, except there are screens everywhere, some showing what look to be vital signs, others you don't even know. Before you can get a closer look the dark haired man forces your head forwards, shoving the drink in your face. He pulls your mouth open, pouring the liquid in, it doesn't taste great but it's not horrible. Your useless tongue lolls around in your mouth, causing some of the drink to spill out onto the bed you're laying on.

"Ngaa, damnit, you're spillin it! Didn't you hear Oshi-san? He said not to get anything dirty!" Kagehira attempts to get the rest of the liquid in you, still spilling some. When he's finally done, he lets you drop back down. "You should feel better in a few seconds." He turns and leaves your line of sight. He was not lying, within a few minutes the pain in your body has almost completely disappeared and your tongue feels as if it can move again. When you're sure you can move without difficulty you push yourself up and swing your legs over the side of the bed.

You can clearly see the two who have been taking care of you, the dark blue light of the room Illuminating off of them. You realize then, they aren't regular humans. They have a wire hanging from the nape of their necks, indicating their hackers. Hackers aren't civilians, they work for either the cyber psychos or the government. Hackers were terrifying since they could hijack other hackers' brains, they could also break into heavily secured official online documents. They could upload their consciousness to cyberspace.

Another thing you notice about them is that they aren't normal, even for hacker standards. Kagehira, you realize, has two different colored eyes, one blue and the other yellow. His yellow eye though, seems to have some type of code written on it, a fake eye. You had no idea what that really did but it was probably dangerous, he could get any data he wanted when he looked at you is what you thought. Along with the eye mod, he had a weaponized hand from what you could see. Kagehira's whole hand was a mechanical gray, some bright green wires connecting the hand to the area just before his wrist. You didn't want to stare too long at it, lest he notices and starts thinking you're a threat, some secret government spy. He luckily didn't seem to either see or care, too busy studying some blue holographic information graph he's made in front of him.

The other hacker, Oshi-san, as Kagehira called him, looked relatively normal. The only thing which separates him from being another civilian is the wire hanging from his neck. His outfit, too, makes him stand out. It looked like one of the highly exclusive outfits showcased on billboards, something you could never afford. It's a deep wine rich red, with some black overlaying it. Not a common hacker or cyber psycho outfit, they usually prefered practicality over style. On closer inspection, the utility belt he had on held a pair of scissors, some medical tools, and bombs? You couldn't quite tell nor would you ask, you wanted to thank these strange men and leave, head back to your apartment and rest.

However that wasn't going to be happening because when Oshi-san looked up, still with that sneer, he wanted you out. "Kagehira, lead HiMERU's guest out of the medical bay, and to Main, where the others are. I need to clean up." And with a nod Kagehira hurriedly appears beside you, one mechanical hand on your shoulder leading you out of the room. You notice then, that both of his hands are mechanical, not just one. He doesn't say anything as he pushes you out the door, and you don't dare attempt to look around. Kagehira was stronger than he looked, you could tell he wasn't using much of his strength to push you along. Attempting to run had crossed your mind but from what you hear about cyber psychos, you would be dead before you took four steps.

The walk towards wherever he was taking you seemed forever, at least to you. The whole place seemed bathed in that deep blue. Eventually the hall opened up into a wide space. The first thing you noticed was the gigantic floor to ceiling window, spanning the whole length of the wall. It made the one in your apartment seem tiny. It was still night from what you could tell, except you weren't in the poverty ridden area anymore, or maybe you were, just in one of the expensive penthouses only shitty government officials owned.

Which couldn't be if you thought about it, you were with cyber psychos, the governments enemies. But perhaps they had government official spies, it wouldn't be surprising. That was most likely the correct answer. It would be even more surprising if you had managed to make it into the Tenshouin Metropolis. Cyber psychos can barely make it out alive in there. The view was still phenomenal from the window wherever you were.

You think it's safe enough to look around the new area without consequences. From what you can see while Kagehira’s still pushing you in. The next thing to captivate your attention is how richly decorated it is. There seems to be a bar to the right, a pinkish purple glow coming from it. Giant TV screens span the wall on the left, showing nothing. Some plants lay around as decoration. There's a big three staired area dipping down in the middle of the room. Inside there's a giant round glass table, surrounded by a large couch. You spot the people next, there's around four of them, all talking to each other on the couch.

None of them notice your approach, Kagehira keeping silent as he guides you along. You stayed quiet too, afraid any noise would have one of them shooting at you. Once you reach the stairs dipping down, that's when their attention turns to you. There were all men, only one of them with visible modifications.

The first man, grey hair pulled back in a ponytail, bright blue eyes, stares at you with confusion. He holds a pack of chips in one of his hands, the other paused midway to his mouth. The second man, a few inches away, has light blue hair down to his neck, golden eyes filled with concern. The black jacket he's wearing hangs loosely off his arms, which sit folded in his lap.

The third man has the modifications. He sits on the opposite end of the couch, arms outstretched and legs spread wide, showing off more than you'd like in some black cargo pants. His arms are mechanical, bright red wiring traces up them, showing off in patterns, it was an intricate but beautiful design. His vermillion hair is spiked up at the ends, a black headband ensuring they don't fall down. He also has blue eyes, except these are filled with amusement, a proud smirk lines his face.

The fourth and final man, well, he looks like a teen, has light pink hair. His lavender eyes gaze at you with curiosity. This boy's a hacker from the looks of it, a wire hanging down from the base of his neck. Kagehira pushes you into the circle, causing you to stumble on the steps a little, the light blue haired man makes a move as if to catch you if you had fallen but quickly stops. Standing awkwardly in the circle, wondering what was to happen. None of them said anything and you wondered briefly if one of these men was the so-called "HiMERU" as Oshi-san had said.

It didn't take long before the red headed one started speaking, "Gyahaha, Oi, MeruMeru what did you drag in? Some whore you picked up on the street?"

"HiMERU would like you to shut it." You remember then, HiMERU, you've seen him broadcasted on the government's wanted list. He's a dangerous psycho, in danger of going into manic mode if Tenshonin's claims were accurate. The other men's appearances clicked then too. The grey haired one was Niki Shiina, one of the assassin's of the psychos, also in danger of going manic. The red headed one, Rinne Amagi, the worst of them all, a reward of 5 billion was offered for any information about his whereabouts, and now you know. They wouldn't let you go, you had seen them and their hiding place, they must have a use for you since you're still alive. The last one, the boy you recognized as the famous hacker Kohaku Oukawa. He was known as one of the best, able to combat the head of cyber security of the government. Not much information was known about him, but it was said he had no technological modifications.

Kagehira speaks up from behind you. "Uh, Oshi-san said they have some bruising on their chest and back. I don't know what ya wanted them for but I thought I should tell ya. We gave them some medicine but it can't fully take away there pain." If anything, the looks from the men in front of you only got more excited at the prospect that you were injured and could feel pain. HiMERU's the first to speak up, "HiMERU is sorry he blasted that building. But he couldn't help it, he was being followed by the government. So HiMERU brought you here to have our doctors medicate you."

That relatively explained why you were here, but also didn't. Cyber psychos weren't known for their generosity or mercy, and by the looks of the others around him, they thought that wasn't a good enough reason to bring some random person into their hideout. "Wait wait HiMERU, you brought some regular civilian to our headquarters because you almost killed them? When did you ever care about that?" Niki's the one who spoke up, already pulling out another chip from the bag, before he can respond Kohaku cuts in. "Yea, don't we have to kill them now anyways? They can't leave now since they know where we're located."

That thought had already crossed your mind. You knew Kohaku was right, and you assumed they had some job for you. You hadn't thought one of them would save you because he felt guilty. "Really MeruMeru? You saved some random person? You never cared about leaving them to die before, what's so different about this one? You wanna hook up with them or something?" Rinne looks as if this is one of the most amusing conversations he's had, eyebrows quirked up, smugly grinning at HiMERU. "No, HiMERU had not planned on that, he does not know why but HiMERU feels some kind of attraction to them. He wishes for them to stay by his side."

You're sure the face you made is one of even more confusion then the expressions on the other cyber psychos, even Mika let out a confused "Huh?" from behind you. "Woah, that's new. I never thought you'd want a companion, Niki and me not enough to satisfy your needs, oh how rude you are HimeRunRun!" Rinne makes an upset sort of face before bursting out in raucous laughter. HiMERU glares at Rinne, one of his hands starting to twist at his wrist. Niki, finished with his chips, puts a hand on HiMERU's shoulder and he stops, hands once again falling limp.

His gaze turns back towards you, eyes only showing pity. "HiMERU is sorry he put you in this situation, he hopes you can understand. However, if you choose to accept HiMERU's companionship, he can offer you protection, you would not meet death." All you wanted to do was go home and play a game, lose yourself in a fictional world and forget about this one. But you knew you could only accept HiMERU's offer or die. Neither option appealed to you but you did enjoy your life, and maybe dating a cyber psycho wouldn't be too bad, it would definitely be interesting.

Your suspicions were confirmed when Kohaku piped up "Yea, if you don't accept HiMERU we'd have to kill you, but we could make it painless, we have the technology." You didn't want to die, you enjoyed your life in the city however shitty it may be. Living with cyber psychos would be interesting, they were always doing something illegal and performing acts against the government, but it would make your life less dull. This wasn't something you particularly wanted but you couldn't deny the thrill of excitement you feel at this new opportunity.

"Yea, sure I'll accept his offer. I can't do anything anyways, and it seems exciting." They all look at you with stunned expressions, HiMERU's is the first to change, a smile makes its way to his face. You hadn't known cyber psychos could smile. "You must be one dumb bitch to accept that offer! Or maybe you're just the same as those junkies out there, crazed and delusional! Oh how interesting, I can't wait to see how long you last with us." From the corner of your eye you could see Niki nodding his head in agreement at Rinne's words. HiMERU doesn't acknowledge Rinne, the only sign he heard it was a small twitch of his eye.

He makes a motion with his hands which looks as if he's beckoning you towards him. You're hesitant, fear hitting you full blast now, the deal having been made. You had agreed to stay with the cyber psychos, the most wanted criminals too. What were you thinking? You wouldn't last long no doubt, bound to be killed by a hunter sooner or later. Wallowing in your own self pity at your situation, you felt a hand shove you squarely in the middle of your shoulder blades, a sharp spike of pain from where he touched you.

"Ya gotta listen when HiMERU tells ya something, ya don't have any power here." Kagehira's voice sounds behind you as you stumble and fall, HiMERU catching you. He hugs you close to him, his hands pressing into unseen bruises and making you wince, you don't scream out, afraid it would anger them. Rinne speaks up again, making everything worse, "You gotta tell me after he's used you, was he any good? Whenever he's with Niki and me he's a slutty bottom, begging for our cum in ten minutes."

HiMERU presses you closer, almost crushing you with how hard he's hugging you. Niki looks uncomfortable from what you could see, eyes downcast at his empty chip bag. Kohaku doesn't seem to be paying any more attention to what's happening, engrossed in whatever he's playing on his holographic screen. Mika isn't looking at you either, gaze set towards the window, staring out into the night life. You wished you back out there, walking freely through the vibrant city, listening to the world as it falls apart around you.

Rinne doesn't quiet, his words only rising in volume, his laughter worsening with every sentence he manages out, "Oh also, be careful. Our little MeruMeru is infertile so you can have all the fun you want. I would love to learn how long it takes before you get all fucked out, begging for him to stop because it's too much!" HiMERU doesn't say anything, you're too scared to. So when that disgusted voice screams out "Be quiet you uneducated bastard! How dare you speak of such vile actions while in my presence! I should throw you out on the street and let the hunters take you away!"

"Oshi-san!" Kagehira's attention is immediately drawn to the man who had just appeared, he scrambles towards him, slipping on a rug. "Non Kagehira! You must be graceful, be careful not to trip." Kagehira nods as he takes his place beside Oshi-san, carefully standing up straight and staring down at you. "Itsuki, that stick up your ass hasn't come down any? I'm just joking."

You know Rinne must have said something that would start a fight based on the way Kohaku flinched and got up, walking out of the room towards the purple illuminated bar, Niki followed after Kohaku. Kagehira doesn't move, only narrowing his eyes down at Rinne. "HiMERU thinks he should leave now, come with HiMERU, he will take you to his room." Having no choice but to agree, you nod your head, his arms slip off of you and the sharp pain you felt under his hold slowly dulls down. He motions for you to follow him.

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

HiMERU leads you to a room on another floor of the penthouse you’re in. You think it’s on the 88th floor but you’re not exactly sure, too tired from what had transpired already. The ride up to HiMERU’s room is awkward in your opinion. He stays quiet the whole time, golden eyes eyeing you every few moments, for what reason you can’t be sure. He pulls up a holographic map like the ones the others had, except his showcases something different, a long document by the looks of it.

You don’t ask about it, knowing better than that, it was probably some official top secret government document no normal civilian should see. The elevator ride is long, you’ve been in here for what feels like five minutes, and it still shows no sign of stopping. You take this moment to fully admire the cyber psycho who saved you, and also the one who took an unusual interest in you.

He still wears his black jacket, he has it hanging loosely on his arms, showing some of his pale skin from where it doesn’t cover. The shirt he’s wearing is body fit, sleeveless, showing off his lean build, for a cyber psycho he’s actually pretty skinny, when you thought of them you thought of muscular men, not this lean man. He wears baggy pants, all the more accentuating his skinny frame. His pants are utility, in dark blue. Some black lines run across the side. His pants also have a type of belt across them, which holds knives and other weapons. It looks like he most likely had more, concealed somewhere.

Eventually the elevator stops after what feels like forever, HiMERU getting rid of his hologram when he notices. The view from even higher up amazes you once again, HiMERU had a room on one of the tallest floors of the penthouse. High enough that everything down below looks tiny. His room is bathed in that same deep blue light, the wall in front of you one floor to ceiling mirror like the area you were in before. His room has Tv screens similar to the main area too, except pushed up against the wall is a giant king sized bed, hovering 12 centimeters above the carpet.

His room is furnished with some plants too, except weapons line the wall to the right and posters cover the wall to the left. He surprisingly has a few plushies lying on the floor too. "HiMERU stays here often, he likes how it looks, and the view from the window, however he is in the open here, everyone is. It is dangerous but beautiful." His voice startles you, he's standing right behind you, staring down.

The view had almost made you forget you were with the cyber psychos, except maybe it wouldn't be so bad, at least you hoped. HiMERU moves away from you to sit on his bed, watching you take in his room, looking for a sign you like it. When you finished looking around you sat down beside him, avoiding his eyes. You can feel his hand as it runs over your shoulder, taking care not to press too hard, lest he hurts you.

"Have you ever been in an room like this?" HiMERU removes his hand from your shoulder when he asks this, instead leaning back, laying down on his gray bedcover. A tentative "No" escapes you, it was true, you hadn't been somewhere like this, always too poor to keep up with the rapid advancements the city was making. You hadn't minded, happy to stay behind since it meant more safely however worsening conditions, being wealthy in this word meant death sometimes. The cyber psychos or government wanted your wealth to help them achieve their goals. Of course some declined, choosing to live out their lives in peace, however sometimes they were still targeted.

It was hard to tell who was working with whom sometimes, everything was secretive, but of course it was possible to find out. Skilled hackers could, they could hack into a house's database and find all the secrets people didn't want known. "HiMERU doesn't know if he likes how he is now." His words shock you, you thought every cyber psycho was some crazy individual, fighting against the government because they thought it was fun, or they had too much time on their hands.

You don't tell him this, afraid he might take offense and his attraction towards you would disappear. Staying silent, turning to look out the window and not at him, maybe he would keep talking or he'd go silent, falling asleep. "HiMERU didn't want to become a cyber psycho, but he wanted to. The government killed him, HiMERU does not forgive the government, he seeks vengeance." That sort of made sense, he had only joined since the government killed someone he was close to, you didn't ask not wanting to seem as if you were prying. But still, someone seeking vengeance usually didn't earn a spot on the most wanted list, or became one of the highly dangerous cyber psychos, there must be another reason.

"Did you know this room can do other things, HiMERU thinks the new tech in this era is interesting. Lights off." He was deflecting from his previous statements. You knew certain places were voice automated, yet yours wasn't and it surprised you some when the lights did go off. The dark blue was gone, yet the light from the city kept the room somewhat lit up, perks of a city that never slept. His room was more beautiful than before, soft pinkish purple light bouncing off everything.

Turning to look out the window, you hear HiMERU sit up and the dip in the bed as he moves himself closer. You don't dare to turn to look at him when you feel his warm breath on the side of your neck. You don't fight him off when he turns your face towards him, connecting your lips in a gentle kiss. You embrace it, closing your eyes, letting yourself get lost in the feeling of his soft lips on yours. He wasn't a bad person, you might actually enjoy being with you.

You let him climb on top of you, straddling your waist, he doesn't break the kiss yet, if anything he continues with more fever. The hand that had tilted your face moves down your body, resting on your collarbone, smoothing over the skin there. His other hand ghosting over your waistband, his fingertips resting right where your shirt ends. He disconnects from you, a small whine of protest escaping your throat when he does so.

"HiMERU wants to make sure this is ok, he does not want to force you into anything. So HiMERU is asking." Nodding your head hastily, wanting his lips back on you, any part he would kiss you wanted him too. And when he saw your nod his lips immediately fell back on yours. The hand at the end of your shirt immediately sliding up, ghosting over your sensitive skin. Gasping into the kiss when his hand finds its way to your bra, slipping under and fondling your breast. He immediately starts to pull and pinch at your nipple, willing it to harden under his fingers. His mouth once again leaves you, choosing instead to place small kisses on the corner of your lip, moving downwards. As he kisses down your jaw the hand on your collarbone moves down, coming to grab at your waist. His hold is firm, most likely so you wouldn't squirm around, but when his hand presses into you a pain erupts. That must be one of the bruises Kagehira was talking about.

A sound of pain leaves you, HiMERU's hands immediately leave you, and his kisses stop. "Ah, HiMERU is sorry, he didn't mean to hurt you, he forgot you were hurt. Would you like him to keep going, or would you like to rest?" Him stopping already would be more torture than him accidentally pressing into your hurt body. "No, it's ok, please continue." You look at him with pleading eyes, willing him to go on. He nods and moves to stop straddling you, choosing to lay beside you.

He turns you on your side, facing the window out into the city. You feel his body move to be right up against yours, his hard cock pressing into your back. His mouth is right next to your ear, you could hear his breathing slightly erratic. One of his hands snakes its way down to your waistband once again, trying to tug it down. With some difficulty he manages to pull your pants down to your knees, sliding them off and throwing them somewhere in his room to find later.

Your underwear follows soon after, thrown like your pants. The relativity cool air of HiMERU's room hitting your wetness makes you shiver. You become acutely aware that you're actually quite wet, sure to leave a stain on HiMERU's bed sheets. That thought doesn't last long as HiMERU's wet fingers find their way to your hole, using one to gather all your wetness before pressing in. It was unannounced the surprise mixing with the sudden pleasure causing you to let out a whispered "HiMERU."

A small chuckle leaves him as he curls the finger inside of you up, trying to spread you out enough for his next finger. When he deems you ready he slides in the next, alongside his other one, using them to make a scissor motion. The feeling is enough to have you gasping, aware that anyone near the window could see in, a full view of what was happening. The thought only makes you more excited, causing you to clench on HiMERU's fingers.

"Oh, HiMERU felt you tighten, what is making you so excited?" You barely get out "the window" before he's pressing in a third finger, thumb small circles onto your clit. "Does letting everyone in the city know you're a slut excite you? HiMERU thought you were better, but he guesses he was wrong." His mean words only have more pleasure shooting through you, small "nos' ' leaving. However when he presses into that spongy spot inside you, his thumb starts to rub more harshly on your clit you knew you wouldn't last.

Your orgasm hits harder than you expected, eyes rolling, as you press your back harder to HiMERU's chest, hole gushing out fluids on HiMERU as he fingers you through your high. When you come down, you realize HiMERU's already pulled his fingers out. He's moved above you, cock out, tip an angry red and weeping precum. The glow of the city lights reflects on his face, making him look more ethereal than he already is.

"HiMERU's sorry, but he wants to cum too, it's not nice that only you get too." You hadn't said he couldn't, but before you could even get a word out he pushes in, using your fluids as a natural lubricant. The stretch hurts, it feels as if he's splitting you open, and only his tip was in. You could feel tears starting to form, your vision becoming fuzzy. The aftershocks of your own orgasm still rolling through you. You knew you were tightened up around HiMERU, too tight for him to go any further without it hurting.

He leans close to your face, one of his hands moving up to wipe your tears away. "You need to breathe, HiMERU can't push in, it will hurt more, relax." His voice is calm although his breathing is quite excited. He starts nipping at your shoulder, wanting to make you relax and forget about the pain of him pushing in. It works and a few moments later he continues until he bottom outs. He doesn't move, letting you adjust to the feeling of being filled so completely. He was big, every small movement one of you made, made you clench back down on him.

He leans up from your neck, looking down at where you're connected together, your slick spilling out around him. Your tears were clearing and all you could see and focus on was him. The way his hands had moved to your hips, holding you in place, hard enough to leave a bruise to join the ones already forming. His chest was moving rapidly from his breathing under his skin tight shirt, his hair falling in a curtain over his face.

The next moment he moves, starting at a slow pace, the drag of his cock starting slow inside you causing you to groan. HiMERU pays no attention, too interested in the way his cock was starting to pump in and out of you. It doesn't take long before he has set a moderate pace. Small groans start to leave him and he leans down to capture your lips in a kiss once again, biting down on you. Your arms wrap around him, attempting to pull him closer than he already is.

He pulls away to announce "HiMERU is, fuck, close, he doesn't know why he can't hold out longer." Your response is a whimper against his lips, a coil in your stomach starting to tighten as his thrusts get rougher, eventually bouncing you on him. One of his hands snakes up to your hair, pulling at it while his other hand meets where you're connected rubbing at your clit to bring you over the edge with him.

It doesn't take long, HiMERU grunts and stills himself as far as he fan inside you, burying his face in your chest as you feel something warm start to fill you up. The feeling of him releasing causes you to reach your second orgasm of the night. Arching your back as you feel yourself cum on his cock. He doesn't pull out, instead rolling over to the side, still inside you even as he starts to soften.

You could feel his cum slowly starting to flow out of you, around his cock and onto his bed sheets but that wasn't your worry. All you could feel was the deep tiredness that set over your body from the night. HiMERU drapes an arm across your body and you snuggle into him, watching as the first light of dawn sneaks over the horizon. The last thing you hear before you succumb to sleep is HiMERU saying "curtains close."

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Ok, ok... I have one request with ror! I have been waiting for this. Also, really loves your writings, it made my day

This is basically my most recent experience. Child reader have severe allergic to peanuts and her family (the entire ror team) know this and warned her school prior, to avoid her getting allergic reaction during school times. One day, there was an event at school, where all the ror attend it since reader is performing with her class and want them to come and parents/family members were invited.

After child reader performance, she immediately went to enjoy lunch with her family and she suddenly got the urge to eat something sweet. This led her to go by the food stall, which was run by a few parents and teachers, who sells baked goods, drinks, etc to the students and parent. Child reader bought some cookies after the mother that sells it confirmed there was not peanuts, only for the reader to get instant allergic reaction!

Thankfully, her family reacted fast and inject her with her epipen. When the mother was confront, she responded with "Allergic doesn't exist. Children uses it as an excuse to be picky!"

How will the ror react to this, especially when reader is crying because she is terrified since it has been long since she got a horrible allergic reaction?

When I first read this request, I got so pissed off! I hate people who have this mentality, those who are willing to put the lives of others at stake to prove an asinine point that usually ends up with someone getting hurt, sick, even killed, which ends with them getting arrested. As someone who has a food sensitivity myself (not really a food allergy, but I have to watch how much gluten I eat in one sitting or risk messing up my stomach for a few days) I hate it when others think that we’re just being picky, or we use that as an excuse for who knows what!

-Your family learned young that you were severely allergic to peanuts, hives and throat swelling with a risk of death if you were even come into contact with peanuts.

-You learned a lot about this too, learning what questions to ask so you wouldn’t risk the chance of having a reaction, as you had a few times in your life where you had been rushed to the hospital, and hospitals scared you as it scared your family seeing you in one.

-For the most part, it was pretty easy to avoid peanuts or things with peanuts, as you all got to know what things have and don’t have them, it was just outside of home where you had to be careful, like at sleepovers or at school.

-It was Parent’s Day at school, and you were so excited to be performing with your second-grade class, as you would all be singing, and your class had been practicing so hard!

-There were so many things happening at your school, pony rides, a huge bake sale, a bounce house, and you got the chance to show your massive family around your school.

-Your class preformed, and you couldn’t help but grin, seeing your whole cheering section cheering loudly for your class, but mainly for you, as your family was a staple around school, everyone knew about them because nobody else had such a huge family.

-After a few more performances, there was a break, and a large snack table was set up, filled with baked treats, extra stuff not a part of the bake sale, and all students were allowed to go up and get a treat.

-You saw one of your friend’s mom manning the treats and she beamed at you as you ran up, “You all did so well Y/N! Tammy said you were all working so hard and I can see that it was hard work paid off! What can I get for you?”

-You looked at the treats, eyeing the different things available before you paused, remembering the rule, “What doesn’t have peanuts in it? I have an allergy.”

-She just smiled, directing you to some cookies, giving you a napkin and you headed back towards your family who was watching you come over.

-You bit into the cookie and as soon as you swallowed the first bite you knew it had peanuts in it, your throat swelling as you instantly paled.

-Loki screamed out your name as attention quickly went to you, seeing your having an allergic reaction, a severe one as Brunnhilde grabbed your Epi-Pen from Eve, jamming it into your thigh.

-A teacher was on the phone, calling for an ambulance and instantly several of your family members stomped over to Tammy’s mom, demanding to know what she was thinking giving you peanuts.

-Hades spoke, his rage barely contained, “Why did you give her something with peanuts? She told you she has an allergy!”

-Her mom didn’t look bothered in the slightest, rolling her eyes, “Allergies are just something kids use now to be picky!” Hades leaned in close, seeing the school nursing guiding in the paramedics, who had been nearby, waiting for an injury on the bounce house, “She could die because of you- you deliberately poisoned her!”

-A couple of police officers, seeing the group, were quick to approach, hearing this, “Is this true? Did that child tell you about an allergy and you knowingly gave that to her?”

-She was in hysterics, “She’s lying- you’re all lying! There’s no such thing as allergies!!” she was quickly placed in cuffs and taken away as you were being taken away, Tammy and her father watching nearby, Tammy in tears to see you being taken away while her dad was furious, seeing what his wife had done.

-You had to spend three days in the hospital, in a coma after you nearly died, as you weren’t getting oxygen into your body. Tammy and her parents visited you, with her mom being watched, seeing the state you were in.

-Tammy couldn’t help but tear up, “Mommy- why did you hurt my friend?” Seeing all the judging and angry eyes on her quickly had her mother embarrassed, wanting to run and hide, but her husband made sure she knew the severity of what she had done, keeping her there, making her look at your little body in the hospital bed.

-Her mother had to attend classes, to show her that allergies were a real thing, showing the signs and symptoms, including death, to educate her, and she had to pay your hospital bill, something she wasn’t pleased with, and she was banned from baking at any school function again. Her reputation also took a hard hit, losing most of her friends and Tammy was upset because none of her friends wanted to play at her house anymore.

-You were well cared for, healing and soon you were back on your feet, playing with Tammy who came to visit with you.

-It became a thing at school to regularly educate not only the kids but parents and families as well about allergies, especially food related allergies, because so many had been scared for you, seeing how badly you reacted.

-Good education and knowledge is what kept not only you but others safe and it was up to everyone to make sure everyone was safe.

[knine-nights-loves-ac]

This started as an ask I was gonna send to @teecupangel but then it got like seven paragraphs long and I decided fuck it I’m just gonna make it a post and @ teecup. So here goes!

Another Pokémon!Desmond idea (ps: this got long, tldr; shiny Goomy uncatchable Des)

So to set the stage, AC universe happens as normal but, in the AC universe, pokemon as a franchise doesn’t exist. Just not a thing at all. So, starting off Desmond (who doesn’t know what Pokémon is) dies because of the Eye and poofs into a new universe as he does every other Tuesday.

Now, flash to a Pokémon region. I’m biased so I’ll say Kalos. But most work. Desmond appears on one of the earlier routes as a shiny Pokémon. Because I’m still biased, let’s say a shiny Goomy even though Goomies shouldn’t spawn there.

Desmond, newly goopified, doesn’t know what the fuck is going on. He’s a glob now. And the animals around him are fucking weird. And seemingly only live in the tall grass.

He can’t figure out how to use any of his “moves” outside of basically tackle and scratch and other similarly basic things. So he’s pretty dam weak, probably relatively low level, only thing he has going for him is that he’s fast and, relatively, smart. He’s still got human level intelligence which is enough to outsmart the vast majority of Pokémon.

He spends some time on this route, getting used to things, using his Eagle Vision (which he still has) to find berries, avoiding fights, and just enjoying his forced retirement to another universe. It’s Desmond, unless properly motivated, I think he’d be willing to settle in and chill.

But uh oh, trouble is afoot. In the form of! A CHILD no

This little kid toddles down the path with a belt full of pokeballs. Desmond, who is still new to this world, sees the kid and decides to approach. Why? Idk man, the brain cell got burned by the Eye.

The kid is like “OH MY GOD SHINY GOOMY!” And immediately initiates a Pokémon battle.

How does this feel to Desmond? Im not sure. But he definitely can tell somethings up when the kid starts screaming in another language, sounds like French? (If you get why, you get a cookie), and throws a ball that somehow summons another creature. Let’s say a Caterpie.

The Caterpie is low level, about as intelligent as a real caterpillar, and big. (Fun fact apparently Goomy and Caterpie are the same height). Now Desmond is concerned, especially when the kid yells a command and the huge ass bug attacks him. Caterpie only knows like three moves so it probably just tackles. Desmond, not being an idiot or actually a real Pokémon, dodges. The kid looks surprised but yells again and the Caterpie attacks again. After a few times, Desmond decides “Fuck this shit, I’m out.” and nopes on out of there. The kid is absolutely shocked that the shiny Goomy just ran from the battle and also that it dodged everything.

Desmond meanwhile, hidden now, checks on the kid and sees that they’re blue in Eagle Vision. He’s not sure whether to be surprised or not. On the one hand, he’s never seen a kid that was red, but on the other hand, this kid attacked him.

He metaphorically shrugs it off and continues foraging for berries, he’s trying out new combinations.

Meanwhile, this child runs back to wherever they came from, and eagerly spreads the news about the wild shiny Goomy they saw. Most people don’t believe them, but a couple other kids are curious enough to go looking later.

Another day begins and Desmond stumbles upon a group of kids this time. The original kid among them. They’re speaking quickly, yeah he’s pretty sure it’s French, too bad that’s one of the languages he barely gets (I don’t care if he’d know some via Ezio, he’d know 15th century French, not modern day Pokémon world French). They’re gesturing wildly and some of them are looking accusatorially at the original kid. Desmond tries to get a little closer and, just his luck, stumbles into view of the group. Uh oh.

Several minutes later, the kids are confused as hell, several Caterpies are furiously working their hamster wheel brains to understand what’s happening, and Desmond is starting to question what’s up with the people in this universe.

But something special happened this time. At one point, one of the kids threw a red and white ball at him. It bounced off his head and rolled on the ground, doing nothing. Desmond was just annoyed. The kids were flabbergasted.

Rumors spread until actual researchers are tramping through the tall grass. Desmond is definitely avoiding them. Even if they’re white in Eagle Vision, those lab coats remind him a bit too much of Abstergo.

Eventually, after the human presence becomes a bit too much, Desmond decides to hit the road and moves out from his comfy little tall grass patch in the middle of the night. He settles down again somewhere else.

Repeat cycle a few times until the whole of Kalos has heard tell of this shiny Goomy who nobody can catch and seems to roam the whole region.

Idk what’s happening from there. Begin plot of Pokémon X/Y? Maybe Desmond meets AZ? Lots of options but idk.

[idontknowreallywhy]

4 - Patience

Penultimate instalment in this ‘what is the earth without the sky?’ angst-fest. Although mischievous-hallucination-Scotty does add a degree of lightness if you ignore the actual agony of his existence. He’s been making me chuckle…

And I say penultimate because I’ve written the last bit too. Where it gets a little better. HOLD THE PHONE, DID I ACTUALLY FINISH A FIC??

Presence, Absence, Divulgence…

💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚

One thing he would say for the drugs, they had dampened his hunger. He guessed they knew that which was why he’d barely been given anything to eat beyond bland nutrition shakes. Scotty kept scoffing cookies and pie at the foot of the bed and wouldn’t share.

At one point he was tucking into an outrageously large rib eye steak with fries. Virgil begged for a bite but he’d shook his head and wagged a finger with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. Virgil threw a pillow at him and then regretted it when his brother disappeared for a while. Then the hunger did too, leaving behind only emptiness and an ache that made him nauseous.

Next time Virgil woke, Scotty was back and flicking popcorn at his little brother. Thankfully, now the sedatives and whatever else he’d been taking were wearing off, his reflexes were much better. He managed to reach out and catch several of the kernels, although kept dropping them and losing them amongst the bedsheets before he could get them into his mouth. His gross motor control was improving quicker than his fine motor, he reasoned. That was fine. He only needed to walk… maybe run, and that was a gross motor thing.

Maybe he could test that out now?

He’d realised the checks by the medical staff followed a very regular pattern. According to the glowing numbers to his right, they could be relied upon to appear every 30 mins or so, between 05 and 10 mins past the hour and between 35 and 40. Unless he did anything weird. When they’d found the pillow on the floor that seemed to have prompted some extra visits but as long as he kept being compliant and drowsy nobody came in between.

Except Dad. He’d been there a few times but after that first occasion post Virgil overhearing what he’d overheard… when Dad didn’t tell him anything new… Virgil pretended to be asleep while he was there. The most useful thing to come out of those visits was he’d heard his father mention a room number and “upstairs” to someone waiting outside the door. Virgil memorised the number - 726 - but decided not to ‘wake’ to ask about it. If he wasn’t going to be trusted with the information, he and Scotty would find out for themselves.

Dad had been weird anyway, ever since Virgil had punched him on the roof of the ranch. He couldn’t quite remember what had prompted that, or why he was there in the first place but he knew it had been Scotty’s fault. At some point he’d have to have a word with his brother about why he hadn’t stood up for him and explained how everything was perfectly safe.

Scotty himself just chatted away about flying and stories from the air force and that seemed to keep Dad happy. He suspected his father preferred hearing from Scott anyway, even though Virgil knew none of the stories were new. They had more in common. And as far as he knew Scott had never hit their father. Virgil tried to stop thinking about that. He suspected there would be a Conversation at some point.

Anyway, Dad had been here a few hours ago and probably wouldn’t be back again today. And it was currently 20 mins past the hour. So. As long as he was quiet…

Virgil carefully pushed back the sheets, swung his legs round and flinched as his bare feet met the cool lino. Everything ached. He reached out to Scotty to give him a hand up but his frustrating sibling grinned and backed away with his hands held out, beckoning, like when they were helping Allie learn to walk.

Allie. Virgil could feel in his gut that there was a Conversation due with his littlest brother too but the reason escaped him at the moment.

He blinked rapidly and refocused. He toddled on unpractised legs and slightly numb toes toward Scotty who backed away slowly until he stepped right through the wall.

The idiot.

Virgil wasn’t stupid enough to follow, the nurses would see him if he went outside his room. He rested his hands gently against the insipid green paintwork and then pivoted to walk around the outside of the small room until he reached the other side of the bed and climbed slowly back in, shoving Scotty over to make room. Despite getting a little tangled in the sheets which required some moderate flailing to put right, the prisoner managed to be appropriately restful-looking when the overly cheerful nurse arrived at 36 minutes past the hour. He maintained the act despite his maddening brother hiding under the sheets and poking him in the side. With a heroic effort Virgil kept a straight face and only allowed the giggles to escape once the nurse had left the room.

He practised twice more that day, the last time trying a little jog from one side of the room to the other which worked ok except the awful elastic-free pajama pants he was wearing slipped alarmingly. No matter, he’d just have to keep a hand free to hold them up. Scotty was no help at all, just leaning up against the wall and cackling in his ridiculous kookaburra way. Virgil had a mind to steal his jeans and make him wear the stupid pants of indignity, see how suave he’d look then.

But, idiot brothers aside, he was ready. All he needed to do was be patient. As well as A patient. Scotty had liked that one judging by the wink and the finger guns.

💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚

He woke to the sound of a kerfuffle and Scotty shaking his shoulder. Multiple pairs of feet ran past his door and down the corridor and he could hear yelling and cursing from one of the other rooms. His eyes widened and Scotty nodded at him in confirmation.

This was their chance.

💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚

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