#and in the last couple of days my brain has been a little filled with not so happy thoughts

[itslottiehere]

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[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[murdrdocs]

Babe. Babe. Babe. I’m ovulating and it shows BUT. I’m thinking SO heavy abt how in MULTIPLE of ur luke fics you comment on his desire to cum inside, knowing damn well he can’t/that he’ll be able to talk her into it one day and it WONT leave my brain alone. I need a fic where reader finally lets him. I’m gnawing at the bars of my enclosure as I type this. down horrendously. send help.

creampie; MDNI – i did not realize that I did this that often erm

if he hadn't have told you verbally, with the way luke is fucking you, you would've been able to figure out what his goal was.

it was one he recently set, having been given permission by you, coupled with extremely enthusiastic consent.

truthfully, it was about time.

all of those sessions where you would see him staring longingly at your cunt after he fucked it, as if he were expecting something else to happen. all of those nights where he would hesitate before putting on a condom, plump lips parting as if he prepared to ask a question, and then promptly closing as he decided against it.

it all led to this: luke finally fucking you raw, leading himself to an orgasm that would make it all worth it.

he has you in a mating press, as if he needed to amplify his intentions even more.

the tops of your thighs pressed against your chest, your ankles and calves thrown over his shoulders, the position spreading you open to give luke access to the deepest parts of you.

he keeps mentioning it, clearly as entranced by it all as you are. little breaths of "so deep" and borderline gasps of "you feel me?" spoken into the stiff air.

you really aren't much better. the ferocity of his hips, the hunger behind each thrust, has made you go dumb. you can only respond in pornographic "yes"'s and "mhm"'s every so often. all of your energy and sense has gone to the feeling of luke driving himself in and out of you like you're nothing but a pocket pussy.

he'd already made you cum once, and another is steadily approaching. it comes closer and closer as you realize that luke is using your body.

it arrives when luke tells you he's about to cum, since you know what that means.

somehow, your brain begins to function and words form.

"please, luke. please cum in me. i need it so bad."

you sound desperate, like something out a video curated perfectly to appease audiences. but that's just how luke has made you feel. that's what he's done to you.

he presses one of your legs further down into your chest and begins to roll his hips into yours, abdominal muscles going taut as his eyelids lower to watch it all happen.

"'m close, baby. just a little..." he lets the sentence tailor off without a complete ending but its not necessary. not when his hips twitch and then still and then finally, he's spurting cum into you.

it's a foreign feeling, but in the best possible way. warm and wet, copious amounts, more than you would've expected. you think you felt him fill you out a little more for a second, but you can't even begin to consider that whenever luke pulls out and his cum follows.

you barely mourn the emptiness before luke's speaking to you.

"did so well, angel. but i need one more thing from you." he lowers your legs, kisses the tops of your calves. "push it out 'f me. need to see it, angel."

you do as told, letting his cum drip out and encouraging it a little with your last remnants of energy. luke's breath hitches, and then you flinch when his fingers probe at your entrance.

he apologizes in a soft whisper but continues his exploration. thick fingers sliding in his cum, smearing it over your cunt. when he gets up to your clit, teasing the bud with the newly added slip, you say his name. it's meant to be a warning, but it comes out more as a plea.

either way, he still chuckles through his halfhearted apology.

"can't help it," he reasons.

"just look so pretty with my cum leaking out of you."

[sleyu]

thinking about how mean!bf sirius would have a hugeee corruption kink, he just wants to ruin your mind yk

idk maybe its just me

i think mean or not, it is definite that sirius black has a corruption kink and it unquestionably couples with his possessive nature.

just imagine mean bf ! sirius meeting you for the first time. you’re a timid, but undoubtedly kind individual who is meek next to him—fully aware of sirius’ notoriety in his personality and habits. he becomes so awestruck, he has nothing to respond to your unassuming questions aside from the occasional nod or gentle murmur.

he displays a calm, relatively friendly aura until the pair of you begin to become acquainted with each other and ultimately, begin dating. it is only then, that the mean teasing and snickers begin, and his heart bursts with joy at the sound of your bashful whines and protests every time he playfully slaps your ass or tugs your skirt, laughing and pulling you close to him, muttering how his actions are all in good fun and that he’d never let anything actually hurt you.

‘so bloody sensitive. y’know i’d rather die than let someone lay a hand on you, dummy.’

and of course, sirius isn’t stupid. he’s been having lewd, perverted thoughts about you since the day he met you. in fact, it was only the same night that sirius cast a silencing charm around his bed to hide the sinful sounds of him grunting as he fisted his cock, thoughts about bending you over the classroom desk polluting his already depraved mind.

since you’ve started dating, he reckons it’s time to manifest these fantasies into life, especially after noticing how your meek gaze has begun to linger on his broad chest and widen at the sight of his bulging crotch. his inner self beams with joy and crude anticipation every time he feels you pawing at his thighs, looking up at him in despair as if you’re unsure of what you really want or why the throbbing ache in between your thighs is only getting worse.

i think mean bf ! sirius would definitely become dizzy at the sight of you on your knees, hands gripping his muscular thighs, begging him to let you suck his cock or to fill your cunt up. usually he was the one doing the begging, but here you were, pliant, obedient, and desperate for his every touch. he genuinely has to sit down and stare at you while also controlling the immoral urge of forcing his cock down your throat, watching how your eyes widen and become teary as your throat contracts and chokes around his pulsating cock.

he genuinely cannot control himself once he sees you fully submit to him, begging him to give you the exact things you were too shy about even insinuating merely a month ago. it makes him feel so accomplished knowing that he was the one that made your brain all cloudy and fuzzy—that he was the one who got your cunt hooked on the feeling of his relentless, unforgiving cock.

‘sirius—my fingers—they’re not good enough—need your cock in me—jus’ want you to ruin ‘n abuse me—please da—’ as soon as you become close to uttering the last word, he’s already lifted up your skirt and forced his cock inside your aching pussy anyways, groaning into your mouth and fucking you ten times harder than he would have any other day.

‘slut—you’ve become a little slut—oh, fuck—‘n who’s are you, huh?’

it becomes the first time that sirius loses all sense of reason and caution as it has become evident to him that he’s irreversibly corrupted you into becoming just as disgusting and perverted as him.

‘nah, not sirius’, honey, you're daddy’s, yeah?’

‘gross fuckin’ bitch loves that, huh, puppy? you like it when daddy forces himself inside you like that, hm?’

‘hogwarts newest slut, yeah? but only mine, isn’t that right? only i get to ruin—fuck—this whorish cunt—mmm,’

sirius is so mean, he doesn’t even tell you when he’s about to cum :( he makes you cum and afterward, you’re a fucked out mess because he just doesn’t stop. your eyebrows begin to furrow and you can only manage to mumble a quiet ‘sirius?’ before he groans into your neck, breath all hot and heavy, and pumps you full of his hot, sticky cum. all you can do is whine and writhe beneath him as he pushes your knees to your chest and uses your cunt to drain his massive cock.

all the while, he’s reveling in the realization that he has just cummed inside you and that if spells and birth control were forgotten, it would be no surprise if you fell pregnant with the copious amounts of cum pumped inside your spent hole.

‘my dirty girl likes when daddy breeds her, doesn’t she? oh, don’t shake your head, pup, i know you like it—can feel you clench—god—around me right now.’

sirius gets so turned on when you confess that you can’t make yourself cum without him ever since the two of you started having sex. the image of you crying out in frustration at the feeling of your own neediness and the dull throbbing in between your sore thighs—incapable of doing anything without his guidance—makes his cock harden far quicker than it should have.

‘poor thing. my dumb girl can’t do anything without me, can she? your small fingers just aren’t as daddy, hm?’ paired with a faux, mocking frown because sirius black is an asshole that is very visibly ecstatic that you’ll always have to come to him to find a release.

and nothing fuels his ego more than having you beg him to stuff you full of his cum before class begins. he loses his mind seeing the effects of ruining your perfect, angelic interior. his once smart, goody-two-shoes, good-girl has become a conniving slut, her own cunt betraying any logic or rational thinking within her mind :( seeing his shy, perfect-attendance girlfriend begging him to skip class with her to fuck in a dingy broom closet is all it takes for him to bust right then and there.

[neonovember]

Hello! I hope you’ve been doing okay! I saw that you had requests open and I also saw that you take requests for Carmen? If it’s totally okay of course to request for him! I got into the bear a few days ago and my brain has been filled with nothing but thoughts of Carmy. Would it be okay just requesting something that’s just Carmen being worried/concerned about the reader? He just always sees whenever there’s that tiredness to them when it looks like it’s a bad day, that slump in their shoulders that all too much reminds him of him a little sometimes, just bringing them into the office and his eyebrows are furrowed with that look of concern and his eyes the same, maybe unexpectedly just wrapping them in a hug (Your writing is so cute btw!) 💕

to carry and to bear

ask, it will be my infinite quest to fulfill! love this request so much and i loved writing is even more. i'm going to be so annoying when s2 comes out, especially since i love carmen's character so much! thank you for your request anon <3

carmen berzatto x reader

warnings: richie (yes he’s a warning), unresolved anxiety, horrible customers, fainting

word count: 5k (short for me lmao)

a/n: you know i love a character when i'm completing fics in under a day..lets pray this momentum keeps going

Wrapping yourself tight against the chilly wind of the unforgivable Chicago weather, you watch the city coming alive in the early morning as you walk down the concrete sidewalk of the Beef’s city corner.

Merchants and gazebo have begun to set up shop, their bright red vendor stands a stark contrast to the grey haze of the windy city. Corner stores and cafes have begun to uncover their blinds, dusting away the sliver of droplets that had long since evaporated after a heavy downpour the night before.

it’s slow though.

The mass of cars and yellow cabbed taxis haven’t yet filled the gravel roads, and the surging rush of traffic and uncontrollable road rage the beef windows have been accustomed to viewing hasn't filled the air.

The pinch of cold begins to itch against the cracks in your outerwear. Your trusted winter jacket and gloves had been left at the bottom of your laundry basket and instead you were forced to throw on a flimsy polyester jacket that provided absolutely no warmth. 

Your fingers are stuffed into your pocket, trying to hide them from the cold but it is no use. They shake against the freezing air of wind as you push past huddles of men chain smoking and passing coolers of steaming coffee on street corners.

You’re about to go ask for a cup, despite Carmen's disgruntled comments of their huddled group festering near the restaurant. They were a pack of wolves, and whilst Sydney's sandwiches had fended them off for a while, the hole in the Beef’s window was still fresh. Like a cycle, more and more had begun to trickle in from alleyways, leading to customers steering clear from the nearby streets. 

Carmen didn’t even like you walking to work this early, you get it, despite being daylight, Chicago had a way of defying social norms. You had paid some attention to the increase in robbing and attacks that had begun to frequent news reports.

It wouldn't have been a problem, walking was always voluntary for you as you had a perfectly fine working car that would drive you to and from your destination with as little as a rumble from its engine. And yet, that seemingly perfect car decided to break down on you this morning, leading to an overheated engine and a smoke filled hood.

So not only did you have to pay for a towing truck to drag away your car to an auto shop you couldn't afford to afford, but you were late. And you hated being late.

Not to mention your sister had called you late last night, asking to stay for a couple nights after her good for nothing boy-friend you would rather call a child had kicked her out after a fight.

She had rambled for nothing short of 2 hours after you had gotten home from the Beef late last night, and the pull of sleep had begun to weigh on you. The exhaustion and deprivation had written itself in the slug of your limbs and the slump of your shoulders.

You had to come in today, there were no rest days even if the Beef wasn't neck deep in debt and Cicero didn't have you all on a leash. Especially if you wouldn't allow yourself one. You had that in common with Carmen, you frequently ignored your own needs for your craft, the same insatiable passion and need for perfection driving you to exhaustion. 

The familiar chime of the Beefs wooden doors hit your ears, and you shake off the cold of the city streets, the Beef is warm and you're grateful, sighing as the heat of prepped ovens and oiled pans defrosts your face. 

It takes a second before you walk into the busy kitchen when the sound finally reaches you. The screeching sound of Richie's voice bickers with Tina about the next door convenient store being turned into a “pretentious hipster coffee shop that is legally selling dog water to unassuming Chicagoans”.

Dragging on and on about the invasion of gentrification that will soon take out all the good businesses that had been around since his grandfather had come from Sicily. Richie was not from Siciliy. In which Carmen mirrors your thoughts and yells that he is not Italian, and his obsession with the European country has been bordering on creepy.

Ebra is reciting an article about a culinary student that had gone rogue and murdered their entire class, giving pointers on how he himself had to patch up an entire unit of people stabbed by a bent corkscrew. The loud conversations and untethered yelling across the kitchen combines with the malfunctioning arcade that has begun to re-circuit the same sentence for 20 minutes now, digs a deep burrow into your temple.

You stand at the entrance of the kitchen, watching the commotion of early morning prep with a tight grimace, your head begins to vibrate a little, the start of a headache you won’t be relieved from spreading and you have to swallow down the exhaustion that begins to seep in at the sight. 

Sydney brushes past you, greeting you with a hello and one of her charming smiles before muttering about throwing that arcade machine out the back. You giggle and it hurts, but you do it anyway because, fuck, you would help her.

You step into the kitchen, and the crew each turn to greet you good morning as you walk past them into the locker bay stuffing your bag and shoes into the cabinet before quickly changing. 

Your phone reads 7am and you stuff it into the pocket of your hung jacket before slamming the locker shut. Carmen peeks his head around the corner, nodding at you as you put on your non-slip shoes, calling your name when you don't notice, you flinch before peering up and Carmen waves trying to get your attention.

“Mornin’ chef, didn’t think you were coming in” Carmen remarks, raising his eyebrows as he leans his shoulder against the wall. 

“Morning, yeah, sorry about that, uh- shit happened and I had to deal with it all at once. Won;t happen again” You reply, biting back a yawn, before letting your feet fall to the ground.

“It’s all good,” Carmen replies, nodding, wiping his hand on the white towel hanging on his shoulder that was already smudged with stains.

“Just shoot me a text or call next time, yeah?” Carmen replies 

“Will do chef” You reply, smiling, before peering out to see Sydney carrying a basket of  ingredients

“New recipe?” You ask, nodding towards Sydney, and Carmen nods, running a hand through his curls as he leans forward.

“Well call it trying something. Not yet finished, just needs some minor tweaks here and there” Carmen replies

“I can help Sydney out if you want?” You reply without a second thought.

You already had prep and a marinade you had to make for Cicero’s function he had conveniently told Carmen about the night before, but helping out was second nature to you, it was a part of this family's culture.

Carmen shakes his head, his eyes falling to your slumped shoulder, and the slow but tight blinks you tended to do when you were exhausted.

The second he had peered his head around the corner and saw the slug of your limbs he knew something was up, but he also knew he couldn't force you to relax, you were worse than him, always taking on so much, filling up your cup until it was overflowing.

“No, no, it’s alright, besides, that marinade isn’t going to be easy, I should be asking if you want me to help out” Carmen replies, chuckling, scratching his neck as you curve your mouth into that smile he loves so much. You could be half-dead and he still stares at you like you were the most gorgeous thing he's ever seen.

“I think I’ve got it handled. I remember having to make something similar back at Le Bleu, you just got to get the temperature right or the entire thing gets spoiled. Having more than one person just makes it more confusing. besides, don't you have that meeting with the vendor today?” You reply, and Carmen sighs, nodding

“Yep, hopefully this place looks stable enough to get him to sign, you know I can’t deal with corporate bullshit. Sydney should’ve met up with them, fuck any one other than me” Carmen replies, shaking his head as he fidgets with the hem of his apron.

Despite his numerous accolades, and world renowned talent, he only ever felt at nature in the kitchen. High function parties and elusive dinner bars were things he despised, feeling out of place despite it being thrown in his name.

“Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself, you're the face of this place Carmen, you’ve transformed it, you oughta show them the Beef is the best investment they’ll make. Hell you’re the best investment they can make” You reply, and Carmen ears perk at your reply, smiling fondly at your comment. He didn't deserve your praise, and he hated the way the sound of your lips curving around his name shoots through him.

“Are y'all going to get to work or continue eye fucking?” Richie calls, as he passes by the locker bay, and Carmen immediately shakes his head muttering a fuck you before nodding to you, and heading back to his station. You get up from your seated position on the bench, dusting and ironing out the creases in your apron before mentally going over the things you had to complete before opening.

Prep vegetables, then start the veal stock for Cicero's marinade. You had to complete it early, since it had to be chilled for at least 5 hours, any less and the fat would congeal and turn into a complete mess you didn’t have time to fix.

You walk towards your station, stepping over sauce that had spilled onto the tile floors, this crew was amazing in their craft, but god were they messy. You bump shoulders with Sydney as you begin to grate and cut root vegetables and herbs, you have to force your eyes open, blinking several times before dipping your hand into an ice water bucket and wiping your face with it.

Sydney converses with you, and it wasn't that she was boring, in fact you both frequently spend time even out of the restaurant as friends. But you can’t even try to decipher what she says, just sounds coming out of her mouth that you pack away in order to get your job done. 

Just cut the vegetables, finish the stock, cut the vegetables, finish the stock, you repeat it like a mantra in your head, unaware at Sydney calling your name. She reaches forward, pressing a soft hand to your shoulder to get your attention.

“Hey, did you hear me?” Sydney replies, concern written across her features as she peers at your disoriented state.

“Huh? Sorry, what did you say?” You reply, avoiding her gaze. You feel her penetrate through you, pitying the exhaustion on your face, probably realising you were a shit chef who couldn't even handle a couple responsibilities.

“I was asking if you could grab me some of the sauce I made yesterday from the storage fridge. You alright? You seem a bit..” Sydney starts, before you cut her off quickly

“Just had a long night, didn't get much sleep” You reply, rubbing your eyes with a hand. What has gotten into you? You weren't foreign to a few sleepless nights and a few too many deadlines you had to meet, hell your entire college and culinary life had been exactly that.

“That’ll kill you, you know” Richie butts in, reaching for a crab cake Sydney had prepared before being swatted away with a wooden spoon.

“What?” You ask, already regretting asking Richie to elaborate on what was clearly some elaborated story he had got stored away

“Go without that good old shut eye a few nights too long and you'll start hallucinating shit, not fucking with you you, don’t you know about the Russian sleep experiment-?” Richie rambles

“Ah here we go” Sydney replies, rolling her eyes 

“You think because you went to Paris or whatever prestigious tight ass school you know everything? It’s real, happened right after World War 2, Russians got a bunch of people and just made them not sleep for like months, they starting turning into fuckin' aliens and shit-” Richie continues, ignoring Sydney's sly remarks about Richie's facebook usage.

“Richie c’mon, you know that shits made up” You reply

“Don’t matter, didn’t I tell you about my week long bender during college? Starting seeing my great aunt from the corner of my eye, and I swear she is still there-” Richie replies before getting cut off my Carmen calling his name

“Stop distracting my chefs Cousin” 

You chuckle, shaking your head as Richie mutters about the fall of democracy and wipe your hands across your towel.

“I’ll go get your sauce Syd” You reply, and she smiles in gratitude as you turn towards the storage room. The cold air of the fridge wakes you up a little, and you rest your head against the door of the storage fridge, sighing in frustration. Talking to Richie was exhausting in itself, and when you were already running only fumes and second hand smoke you felt like it took the last bit of energy you had left.

You grab the container of sauce written with “DO NOT TOUCH” on its front, it's wrapped in cling film, with no lid and you're careful not to drop it everywhere. It wasn’t heavy, per se, just filled to the brim and without careful steps it was close to tipping out. You walk out of the storage room carefully, before turning towards your station.

“Corner!” You yell, twisting around the corner of the kitchen, before you slam straight into a tall body, jerking back and inadvertently spilling the sauce all across the kitchen floor and onto your shoes. You feel it sink into your socks and drip down your apron, eye twitching in frustration as Marcus starts apologising profusely, you ignore him, dropping down to your knees and reaching for paper towels. You start wiping away the sauce, as Marcus drops down to your level and tries to help, you shake our head looking up at him.

“Stop, Marcus, just stop. I can do it” You reply

“But-” Marcus protests

“We don't need two chefs to clean up a one person job, alright? You need to finish prep” You reply, letting the towels soak up the sauce. You grieve for Sydney, not all of it had spilt, but a quarter of a container wasn’t enough to get through the morning rush, let alone the entire day.

You ignore the spilt sauce all over your clothes, you didn’t have time to change now, rushing back to your station before telling Sydney about the spill

“You serious? I thought I could leave early today, got a friend's birthday” Sydney replies, pinching the bridge of her nose.

You instantly feel guilty, you should've been more careful, and now Sydney would have to pay for it.

“Hey, I got it, let me take that new recipe off your plate. That gives you enough time to get to the party?” You reply

Sydney looks up, rising her eyebrows “No, no I couldn’t possibly ask you to” 

“Nonsense, I owe you anyway, remember when I had to leave halfway through the morning to get my sister?” You reply, with a tired smile before Sydney wraps her arms around you, you rub a hand across her back. You can’t really feel her arms around you, it’s like all your senses are delayed, you ignore it as you get back to work, now with another task on your plate.

You finish chopping the vegetables after a short while, usually you were the fastest in the house, but today you lagged behind, finally carrying the vegetables to Carmen who looked at you strange, his eyes staring through you, he swallowed like he was going to say something as you walked away, before stopping and continuing stirring the stock on the stove

By the time the Beef opens, you're still elbow deep in work, you've stayed silent most of the time, waving off Marcus’s apology and instead working, not stopping since you started. You skipped breakfast, and you hadn't gotten a chance to eat, and just when you're about to make yourself something, Richie calls your name from the front counter.

You walk towards the front of the Beef, wiping stains on your apron to look a little presentable to the outside world. Richie stands at the register, flicking a pen in his hand, a look of annoyance on his face.

“What's up?” You ask Richie, as a tall man dressed down in a polo sweater and khakis stares down at you in anger. He’s familiar, someone you had served when Richie had to take his smoke break, and he scrutinises you as you smile at him.

That’s the only way you could communicate with these people, any hint of anger and you’d be written of as angry and unable to control your emotions, you lost your last job because you defended yourself anyway.

“This guy said he came in and you made him something he apparently didn't like, but finished anyway” Richie replies, a knowing look passes between you both and you sigh, you don't have time for this. 

“Morning Sir, May I ask what’s the problem” You ask politely

“You suggested to me a dish from the menu, alright, YOU, not me, so don't go blaming me for this, and look what I got, not only does it have nuts, which i hate, it's spicy. Way too spicy, I want a refund, NOW” The man replies, seething, his yelling catches the attention of other patrons, and Richie begins to reach under the table for a bat.

“Well, you finished it all so I don’t know what you-” You begin before the man cuts you off loudly

“Do you think I give a shift what you think? Huh? Jesus fucking Christ, see you just need to do what I fucking say, not argue. Give me a refund before I get you fired from this shit hole you dumb stupid-” The man yells, loudly before Carmen's booming voice cuts him off

“I wouldn't finish that sentence if I were you” Carmen replies, clenching his jaw in way that told you he was trying to hold back the rage from spilling out

“Who the fuck are you?” The man asks

“I own this shit hole you piece of shit, and if you don't get the fuck out of my restaurant I'm going to break every single bone in your face with my bare hands". 

“Excuse me?”

Carmen laughs, shaking his head before smiling at the man

“I told you”

Carmen drags the man by his collar, throwing him onto the sidewalk and dragging his body to the alleyway, you fear what he is going to do and Richie raises his eyebrows in astonishment.

“Well shit cousin, you ain't a pussy after all” Richie mutters under his breath

You can faintly hear the sound of splitting skin and the crack of bone, before Carmen storms back into the restaurant, eyeing all the patrons who are following his every move.

“Y'all got that? Anyone mess with my people hear and your walk out on a fucking stretcher” Carmen replies still seething with anger, before Richie claps loudly as Carmen walks back behind the desk.

“Call a fucking ambulance” Carmen replies, rolling his eyes at Richie before he walks towards you, the the tension immediately leaving him as he find your safe and away from that man.

“You alright? He didn't hurt you or anything?” Carmen asks in concern, his eyes darting across your body to see any imagined injuries

“It seems you should be asking him that question” You reply, nudging towards the alley of the Bear, chuckling as you shake your head.

“You didn't have to do that you know, iIcould have-” You start

Carmen looks down at you in concern, shaking his head as he places his hand on you shoulder

“Could've what? He was screaming in your face and I wasn't about to let him think that shit was okay, god, how could you not react?” Carmen replies, looking down at you in concern, shaking his head as he places a hand on your shoulder.

“I’m just so busy, I still- Fuck, i still got to get Cicero's marinade in the fridge, and i need to start on Syd’s broth” You mutter pressing your fingertips to your temples.

“What? You’re doing Sydney’s load as well? Hey, you need to sit down a second” Carmen replies, as you begin to walk back towards the kitchen, with Carmen hot on your heels, asking you to stop and turn to him.

You hear him call your name, but the mountain of tasks that were now even later due to that customer had begun to seize your consciousness.

All you could focus on was the dishes you needed to make and the pain in your temples that had begun to spread down, your vision getting fuzzy around the edges as you try and shake yourself awake.

“Dammit, listen to me! Stop cutting fucking vegetables and listen to me” Carmen yells at you for the first time, twisting your body to face him and you spit out in anger

“What?!” 

“What’s gotten into you today?” Carmen replies, yelling

And you don't know why, but that question breaks something in you, and you can't help but let out a short chuckle. Carmen looks down at you in horror, trying to reach for you, to catch you when the inevitable happens and you look at him once before it does.

Before your vision begins to blur and the edges begin to burn like a flame, you try and catch yourself, but it’s too late and you fall into Carmen's arms, wrapped up against his chest as you crash.

Carmen gathers you in his arms, his heart breaking beneath his breasts, holding his sweet girl in his arms as the streams of tears dampen his shirt. The rest of the crew watch on in concern, and Carmen shoes them away as he carries your unconscious body to the office.

“What the fuck Cousin?” Richie calls

“Hey, hey, is she alright? What -what happened?” Sydney replies in horror as she watches Carmen carry you from the kitchen. 

“What happened was, ya'll did fuck all when she was practically breaking down trying to finish everyone else's fucking mess. What happened? Are you fucking serious? If i wasn't there, she would’ve fainted into a burning skillet of your fucking vegetables Sydney” Carmen replies, shaking his head, the entire crew goes silent, the only sounds coming from the beeps of ovens and stove tops, and the sizzling of burning food.

Carmen goes quiet, as he assesses your state, there is something unwritten in the way he holds you, and he blinks tight, his face twitching a little as if he had to make sure you were in his arms, the only place he wanted you to be.

“Get back to work” Carmen replies, quietly, a stark contrast to his rage from before, the crew has never seen him like this, his eyes and focus on you, as if he has been seized by this responsibility and dying need to protect you. He can hardly breathe, his arms shaking as he stares down at your sullen and tired face.

“We need-” Marcus starts before Carmen shakes his head

“No, no, enough. Sydney will hold down the fort, this is my responsibility. Get. back to work.” Carmen replies

—-

Carmen wastes no time to gently place your body onto the scuffed office couch, pressing a hand to your head, before reaching for an ice cold container of water, dipping a towel into it before gently pressing it to your forehead.

Carmen shakes his head in anger, he should've seen this coming, he should've noticed from the slump of your shoulder and your one word answers that you were stretching yourself too thin.

Carmen tortures himself as he replays the moments before you fainted into his arms. The way your features twisted into a sob, and the lasts shred of resolve snapped, and you had reached for him, you had reached for him.

You had reached for Carmen when you fell, and something in him broke when he had caught you.

Carmen had been used to his own self-destruction, but as he rested his thumb, rubbing circles and wiping away the tears on your face, he wished himself to change, not just for him, but for you. How could he? How could you be such a poor example to you? This was his own fault, and the reality of that conclusion twists like a knife to his gut.

His sweet girl, his Sunshine, who had thought the needs of this goddamn sandwich shop was more important than her own. You begin to stir in his arms, and the tension and shake of his arms begins to release as you wake up, Carmen eases you into consciousness when you begin to panic.

“Hey hey, I’m right here, you're okay, you're okay” Carmen replies softly, and you squeeze your eyes tightly, trying to understand what had happened and why you felt like your body was filled with lead.

"What, what happened” You reply, looking across the location of the office.

“You fainted, and I carried you to the office because you are not going back into that kitchen” Carmen replies, sitting up from his slumped position.

You stay quiet,  confusion lacing your features as you shake your head. You fainted? How did that even happen? You had never fainted in your entire life.

Carmen peers at you, his eyes dancing across your face as your silence frightens him, he wouldn't even recognise you, your usual bubbly, and incredibly chirpy self was not replaced by someone who was so exhausted they couldn’t stay conscious.

“You gotta talk to me baby girl, please, look at me, you can tell me, you can tell me anything” Carmen replies, softly, caressing your hand with his thumb when it begins to shake.

You look up at him, his expression of worry and concern causing your features to twist,

“I um, I’m just a little tired” You reply, the beginning of tears choking you, causing your words to rush out as  you try to stop yourself but it is fruitless, and Carmen eyebrows kind of pinch, he kind of frowns a little as he looks at you in that way.

It's all it takes before you sob, and sink into the coach. Carmen gathers you once again in his arms, and scoops your legs so that they lay across his thighs, and your head rests against his collarbone.

“I know baby, I know, I’m sorry, Oh honey I am so sorry” Carmen replies, rubbing your back as you let the last of your resolve sink into his chest, the cry of your tears leaving you speechless.

You can’t stop crying, the cup spilling over and making a big whole mess, snot and tears and heartache and exhaustion dirties Carmen's chef whites and you can't help but grip onto him like he is the only thing tethering you to Earth.

You don’t have to tell Carmen then, he knew the second you walked in, and he knows now when you hold him. There's a certain grief Carmen feels when he looks at you and sees himself, and in a way this is for Carmen too.

You sit like this for a while, you and Carmen. Wrapped in his arms as you lay across his lap, long after the tears had run dry, where you are left with hiccups and the soothing touch of Carmen's hand across your back.

It feels like you two are the only people on earth. Everything is Carmen; its all you smell, all you feel against your skin, all you hear as he whispers into you ear. No one dares to step into the office doors, even when an hour ticks by, even when the trickle of customers turns into a downpour and the orders never end, the family knows that you need this, that your health was better than money, or happy customers and fuck all.

Even after you have cried your eyes out, the responsibility of work begins to weigh on your body, you still had so much to do with so little time

“But the marinade, and- and Sydney's” You begin before Carmen cuts you off with a soft squeeze.

“Richie’ll handle it, and if he doesn't Cicero can go fuck himself. You really think I’m going to let that override you right now? Just forget about the kitchen alright, can you do that for me, pretty girl?” Carmen replies

You nod, the burden that had exhausted you to sickness lifted from your shoulders. You look towards the clock and realise the vendors were coming soon to meet with Carmen, something he couldn’t miss.

“The vendors, aren't they-”

“They came in 3 hours early, it's why it took me so long to get to you when that asshole was throwing a fit” Carmen replies, knowing what you were asking for.

You peek at him in question “Well?”

“They signed.” Carmen replies, rolling eyes and smiling at your delighted squeal

“What did I tell you? Carmen Berzatto is more than-” You start before a yawn stretches through you.

“Alright, alright, enough talking from you. When’s the last time you ate?” Carmen asks

You stop and scratch your head, trying to think and you laugh a little when you can’t remember.

“I don't know” You reply

Carmen’s eye twitches, and he smiles down at you before easing you off his thighs and onto the coach. 

“What- what are you doing?” You ask, not even trying to hide the sadness in your voice. You already miss the heat of his chest warm against your cheek.

Carmen smiles softly as he looks down at you, threaded a hand through his head as he wipes down the creases on his apron.

“I’m making you something”

“What? No it’s- it’s okay I’ll eat at family” You reply, reaching a hand out to him

Carmen reaches for your palm, pressing a soft kiss on your the skin of your knuckles before reaching down to kiss the top of your head.

“No you need to eat now, alright? You're going to sleep the rest of the day, and then, and then, you're coming back to my place so I can keep an eye on you. You gonna listen to me or protest?” Carmen replies, eyebrow raised as he crosses his arms. His voice drops down an octane, like it was a command, and you have to bite back the desire floating in your stomach at the way he looks down with his eyes all heavy from above. 

“Okay, alright, whatever you say Chef” You reply with a smile, and Carmen sinks his teeth into his bottom lip when you say it like that.

“Just wait a sec” Carmen replies, and as he is about to leave you call for him again

“What are you even making, half the ingredients are gone” 

“It’s no problem, it’s your recipe anyway” Carmen replies, with a hint of a smile on his face before he leaves the room. It takes you a while, half because you're exhausted and the other half because you're hungry before the realisation hits you that he's made a recipe for you, about you. 

You can't help the smile that stretches across your face, goddamnit Carmen Berzatto, and you say you aren't a romantic.

[manias-wordcount]

Never Enough (Silva Zoldyck)

Kinktober 2023 Day Twenty-Four: Breeding

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

“You smell so sweet, my love. Surely it must be time for you to give me another one, yes?”

  Given the person you married, such words aren’t too odd to hear anymore. Especially early, early in the morning. And especially accompanied by the feeling of hands pulling at your nightgown and tugging it above your head. After all, you’ve been in the game for long enough to know that whenever you wake up to the feeling of your husband’s large hands spreading open your thighs and him lapping at your cunt, it’s usually because you’re ovulating. 

  And when you’re wed to a man like Silva Zoldyck, ovulation days tend to mean a whole lot of nothing but him pounding away at your body and filling you up to the brim with his seed as many times as he possibly can. 

  With the hopes that one of these days will result in a nice, shiny gift being brought into the family around nine months later. 

  Of course, your husband doesn’t really need an excuse to put his hands on you. In fact, if this was any single other day on the calendar, he would be more than happy to take you anywhere, any time. In any position. In any place. But those days he would wait until you were up and awake and coherent before diving in for his sneak attack. But those are the days he fucks you because he wants you. They’re way different from the days he fucks you because he wants to put another baby in you. 

  As if two of you don’t have enough of those yet.

  But all too soon, the sleepiness and the grumpiness melt away from your face. The pout that you were trying so hard to keep up easily slips into something a little more lewd as your husband digs his tongue inside of your lower walls, trying to make you nice and wet and loose for the absolute monster he has still tucked in his trousers. And it’s in your lustful haze that you really decide that there’s no point in being so stubborn. That you don’t even know why you woke up feeling like you wanted to be this stubborn. Perhaps it’s some lingering feelings from your last post-natal period. Perhaps it’s something else. You wouldn’t know. 

  You’re just supposed to be Silva’s cute little wife. The nice and sweet little homemaker of the family. The one who pumps out all the babies. The one who’s just a hole for her husband to use. 

  And the one who won’t say anything- just whimper and whine and moan as her husband pulls away from her pretty little pussy just to have her present it to him on all fours like a good, good, good girl.

  Already, the sleepy part of your brain misses the feeling of his tongue inside of you and his lips wrapped around your clit. You can’t help but wish that you took the time to enjoy it. That you took the time to soak it all in- maybe even ride his face a little bit more. He did have the nose for it, after all. But you don’t quite have the luxury for that anymore. Because right now, you’re face down and ass up. And Silva’s large, large hands, and coming up to grab at your hips. To align his cock. To push it inside.

  And to breed you.

  There’s no time to waste. The second your warm, wet walls give in and let his dick push past their defenses, he’s snapping to sheath his full length inside of you. Only to pull it out a half second later and to 

    And you know this. You know this for a fact because the man behind you barely gives you a moment- barely gives you a second to breathe. Because from minute one, his goal is to impale you on his cock. To care less about your comfort. After all, he can do that on another day. He can do that when he’s feeling kind and caring. But today isn’t going to be one of those days. Instead, today is going to be one of those days where it marks the first of a couple of days where your children probably won’t see you. Where your body will constantly feel like it never had energy to begin with. Where your skin will know nothing but your husband and his touch and his voice. His commands and the bruises he leaves. His breath and heartbeat. Joining you. Becoming one with you. Over and over and over again. For one reason and one reason alone.

  “This next one is going to be a girl,” Silva murmurs from behind you, leaning in closer to hold you tight against his body. You gasp out as the change in position allows for him to hit an angle more deeply Your mind doesn’t even register that he’s speaking to you. That he’s saying saying to you. You’re far too gone. Far too focused on doing your best to stay up on your two shaking legs as your husband slams into you from behind with far too much power and energy for one man this early in the morning.“A strong one. I can feel it.”

  You whine in response- once again, unable to form the right words. Or any words, for that matter. Your mind has quickly gone to mush. And now you’re at the point, where you’re far too focused on gripping at the sheets in front of you and trying not to be blown away by the sheer force and purpose and hope he puts behind every thrust of his throbbing hard cock into your awaiting hole. A hole you know will be soon pumped full of his seed. And even then, it’s hard to imagine that he’d stop.

  After all, you’ve only given him five children so far. And you’re still so young. Still so able to bear such powerful children. Still so able to take him- all of him without breaking. So what’s one more little pair of hands and feet running around the manor in a year? What’s a few more tears to dry and bright eyes to love? What’s one more show of the physical bond between husband and wife? Between mother and father. Man and woman. What’s one more?

    “We’ll get you pregnant again, my dear. Just watch me.” 

  Well, it’s what Silva wants. And you’ve been in the game for long enough to know that for Silva?

“I’ll make you big and swollen with my child today, even if it kills you.”

  One more is never enough.

[sorceresssundries]

Every Shade of Sunlight

This is a BG3 anniversary gift for my friend @mercymaker <3

Pairing: Astarion/Maleane (m/f) - SFW

Word Count: 2k

Summary: It is the last night before the group go to face the elder brain, and Maleane takes Astarion to watch the sunset for possibly the final time.

"Darling, as much as I appreciate a little rough and tumble down a dirty alley, you’ve been dragging me through the city for quite a while now. Is there a specific dirty alley you had in mind? Or, did you just get sick of camp? Not that I blame you, my sweet. Gale has been particularly irritating this evening.” 

“Perhaps he's just trying to squeeze out as many words as possible in our last few hours together?” Maleane replied, her eyes scanning the shadows diligently.

Astarion sighed. “Sometimes, I’m glad he hasn’t decided to blow himself up. Other times, I regret not persuading him to do it sooner. He is frightfully repetitive.”

Maleane rolled her eyes, and could feel her lover’s greedy gaze on her as she strolled through the hidden alley which ran through the bowels of Grey Harbour. She was trying very hard not to be distracted; she had a careful, precise, time-sensitive plan. If Astarion didn’t stop brushing his hand over hers or making suggestive comments, she would definitely end up fucking him in a dirty alley. That wasn’t what she had planned... at least not right now.

“Aha!” She turned to him with a grin and pointed to a dank, well-hidden ladder that looked so rotted one step might turn it to mulch.

He looked highly unimpressed. “Unless that ladder leads to a cultist to kill and a heavy treasure chest to break into, I think I’ll stay down here.” he sneered.

“It leads somewhere much better than that. Trust me.”

He raised an eyebrow, sceptical. “Better than murder and treasure? This sounds like a trap.”

She grabbed the ladder with confidence despite its decrepit appearance. “You’ll just have to see for yourself.”

With a wary glance, Astarion followed her up the ladder, his usual swagger slightly tempered with caution. 

At the top, Maleane clambered onto a ledge and over a small railing to a tucked-away rooftop. The last light of the day bathed the space in a warm, golden glow, and the scent of blooming flowers filled the air. The rooftop was modest, nowhere near as spacious as Alfira and Lakrissa’s haven atop the Elfsong. This one was dingy, with weathered stone tiles underfoot and the faint remnants of old paint on the wall of the larger building that towered next to them. However, Maleane had done her best to breathe a little life into it.

A variety of plants, from hardy ferns to flowering vines, were strategically placed around the space, creating pockets of greenery and bursts of colour. Comfortable cushions, covered in bright but slightly faded fabrics, were scattered about, arranged on a couple of old wooden crates repurposed as makeshift seating. In one corner, a small wrought-iron table, a bit rusty but still sturdy, held a collection of candles in different shapes and sizes and a bottle of expensive wine

“This… this is unexpected.” Astarion turned to her, surprised.

“Don’t get too moony-eyed,” she teased. “I stole it all.”

“Well, then I'm even more impressed.”

“Come on. Sit.” Maleane gestured towards the makeshift bench while she poured out a glass of wine for them. 

Together they sat, and spoke, and sipped their wine. Maleane resting her head on her lover’s shoulder as they watched the sun set on their final day with parasites in their heads. Tomorrow, one way or another, Astarion would no longer be able to bask in the light he had become accustomed to. It pained her. 

The view from the rooftop was nothing short of spectacular. The Chionthar stretched out below, glowing with shades of gold and crimson. The sounds of the bustling city were muted, a low background hum—ambient sounds for the two lovers on a rooftop in the city they were trying to save. 

“As delightful as your company is, it feels like you’ve brought me here for a reason, my love. Or are you just feeling sentimental?”

“Show a little patience, you’ll see.”

“Darling, I was a slave for almost two hundred years. Patience is the only thing I've ever had.”

She nudged him with her elbow, and nodded her head back towards the sunset. “Watch.”

He sighed dramatically, then quieted, watching as the sun he loved almost as much as her began to sink below the horizon. The shimmer of yellow, soft and tired after a long day, was slowly being dragged away. Astarion stared at it with barely concealed longing, all his usual bluster and facade dropped. He observed the sunset the way one would watch their lover walk out the door for the final time.

Maleane, however, only watched him as light muted and the shadow of dusk fell over his face, turning his eyes from shining scarlet to a deeper maroon—so much deeper they could almost be mistaken for brown. His skin looked less pale, his fangs hidden beneath the straight line of his lips. He looked the way she imagined he did when he was alive.

She often wondered what he was like in those days, when he was young and human and fragile. Did he ever steal bottles of wine and sneak away to hidden rooftops in the city he lived and loved in? What did he look like, smell like, sound like? Maybe his words used to sound different slipping off a tongue that wasn’t silken and practiced. Perhaps his vowels were rounder, his accent softer, uncut by the sharp points of his teeth. 

Maybe he was an entirely different person, or perhaps he was exactly the same. Maleane would never know, and Astarion would never remember.

She grieved for the person he was before, loved him for who he was in this moment, and steeled herself to protect the person he would become. No one stayed the same; everyone was as changing as the seasons, and contained as many colours and streaks as the sunburst sky. Her heart ached as he mourned the death of the day, the final one he would possibly ever see. Then, his expression shifted. He looked confused.

Maleane smiled and tore her gaze from him to follow where his eyes were fixed.

Right there, in the day’s final moments, when only the very top of the sun was visible - it turned green. Just for a few magical, unexplainable moments, a vibrant, clear flash of the brightest emerald. And then, it was gone.

“Did you see that?” His disbelief reminded her of a child watching snow fall for the first time.

Maleane hummed in contentment and put her hand over his. “Sometimes, when the sky is clear and the weather is right, just in the final moments before the sun disappears - it turns green.”

“Why?”

She shrugs, “I don’t know, I'm sure there’s some long, boring explanation that Gale could tell us about. It’s supposed to be a sign of luck, a good omen.”

“How did you know it would happen?”

“I didn’t. I hoped.” She sighed as his cool thumb brushed over her knuckles. “I used to watch out for it when I was a child. Most people don’t even see it. They sit under the sun every day and never know all its colours. Lives are lived and days are long and no one stops to see the sun turn green.” His eyes are fixed upon her now, the sun long forgotten. “I wanted to show you every shade of sunlight. Gods knows how long it will be before you see it again.”

“If I ever do.” His voice was weaker than she had ever heard it. 

“You will.” Hers was made of iron.

They sat there for a while, the two of them, as the orange and purples and reds of the sunset stained sky melted away into inky blue. The light followed the sun below the line of the horizon, where it sat and patiently waited for tomorrow. Who knows what it would cast itself over the next time it appeared. 

Dawn could clutch at the burnt-out corpse of Baldur’s Gate in the morning like a grief-wrecked parent, and wake the birds to sing songs of sorrow. Or… it could raise its arms in celebration, light up the homes of the saved and slip through the stained glass of still-standing temples and cast colour across stone floors. Shimmering through the tears of grateful worshippers which would stain the feet of the Gods, making their worship look like diamonds.

The Gods didn’t deserve their tears. It would not be the Gods that saved them, Maleane thought bitterly. It would be up to her small group of misfits and outcasts. The chosen and the cast-aside. The faithless and the faithful. The tortured vampire and the lost girl from the woods.

No-one would thank Astarion. The gratitude of the morning sun would not reach him. He would slink, shadowed and unrewarded, once again back into the darkness. He would not be alone though, Maleane would make sure of that. 

“Have you ever been up here before?” Maleane asked, It was strange to imagine Astarion as a young man. Just one of the people she had seen settled and happy in the routine of their day in the city. It was a heartbreak to think about how she was so grateful to have found him, and yet the only reason he was in her life was because he had been killed, dragged back from death, and mistreated so poorly.

“Who knows darling.” He sighed. “I don’t remember much, only blurred faces and whispered names. I distanced myself too much to remember particular details. I don’t even know who I was, let alone where I've been.”

He took a long sip of his wine and became lost in clouded thoughts. 

“I’ve been a victim, and I've been a monster, and, ridiculously, some kind of hero. I don’t know who I really am, or which one I'll be when all this is over and I have to deal with normality” He pulled a face as though he'd just bitten something sour. 

“All of them.” She said, simply.  “You’re a person.” She touched his face, cool and perfect. Brushes her fingers down and along the chest that has no rise and fall to it. “Full of burnt orange, and flashes of scarlet, and a yellow so blinding it could be pure white. And also, in rare little moments right before darkness - flashes of green.”

“You’re very sweet.” He lifted her hand to kiss it  “Nothing at all like the angry little forest sprite I first pressed my blade to.” He teased, and flashed his pointy teeth in a genuine smile. 

“What can I say, turns out the threat of ceremorphosis, being thrown into a group of strangers, lifting curses, slaying dragons and becoming the partner of a vampire will change a girl.”

He gifted her with some of his sparkling laughter, a sound so sweet and imperfect a monster would never be able to make it. “Partner,” he said, clinking her wine glass with his own. “I like that.”

Their last peaceful moment was abruptly shattered by another shuddering quake from the elder brain, barely contained and thrumming with anxious, threatened energy, awaiting their arrival. 

“This was wonderful while it lasted, darling,” he sighed, rising and extending his hand to her. “But I guess nothing lasts forever.”

She gazed at him, pale and ethereal, bathed in fresh moonlight.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Maleane replied, as her fingers entwined with his. “Let’s wait and see.”

He kissed her then, beneath the warm blanket of dusk, with the fervour of a man gasping for air, for life, for her. She knew that no matter what came next, even if it meant centuries in the shadows, she would stay by his side.

She would be his light, his mirror, and the home he could always return to.

“Please don’t kiss me like it’s our last night,” she murmured softly, a trace of anxiety creeping in for the uncertain hours ahead.

He smiled against her lips. “My love, I’m kissing you like it’s our first.”

[t0yac1d]

My Juliet, my special girl (C. Diaz x Fem!Reader)

I hope that she looks at me and thinks, "Shit, he is so pretty"

Warnings: gang violence, death, after Olivia's Quince, blood, contemplating suicide

Word Count: 889

It was the morning after Olivia's Quince. The morning after a beautiful party. The morning after Latrelle shot Ruby and killed Olivia.

"It's all my fault."

"I shouldn't have shown mercy to Latrelle."

"I shouldn't have gone after him in the first place."

Cesar blamed and hated himself deeply.

He hated what happened to Ruby and Olivia because in his eyes, that should’ve been him.

In his eyes, that should’ve been him who got shot.

In his eyes, that should’ve been him who got killed. 

I need to cry, but I can't get anything out of my eyes,

Cesar sat on the edge of his bed, eyes filled with frustrated tears that threatened to spill but they wouldn’t fall. No matter how upset he was, they wouldn’t pour.

Or my head. 

And oh my god, the night. That night kept repeating in his brain. 

The sound of the gunshot.

The sound of Ruby screaming his name before getting shot. 

The sounds of Geny and Ruben screaming as their son lay on the ground, bleeding out. 

Every little detail played continuously in his brain. It was like a record player stuck in a loop.

Did I die? I need to run,

Days went by without Cesar coming out of the house. He felt like an empty body, just moving on its own throughout the day.  

but I can't get out of bed for anyone.

He was scared. 

Not of Latrelle or any gang member after him. 

But of his friends and Ruby’s family. 

What if they all hated him? He wouldn’t blame them, but this was the last thing he expected that would break the group up. 

He couldn’t get out of bed to see anyone.

 Not for you,

Not even for the girl he wanted to live for. 

When he did get the courage to go outside, he went to school first. He wanted to see if everyone still wanted to be his friend. Because if not, then he’d just apologize and go away. Leave their lives for good and keep them out of harm’s way. 

When Cesar got to school, no one greeted him. It was like he didn’t exist. 

He hated how no one talked to him, but he couldn’t blame them. He took their friend away.

Cesar skipped a couple classes that day. He just sat in an empty and dark classroom, silently sobbing and crying. 

My sour boy is a pain, 

His chest hurt with each sob he let out, 

I wanna shoot him in the brain,

He doesn’t deserve to live. It should’ve been him instead of Olivia.

He feels like if he died, everything would be better for his friends. 

 but I'd miss him in the morning. 

But a part of him says that this isn’t the way to think. That what happened has already happened and there’s not much to do about it but move on and make amends.

It really hurts when I need to so bad, but I can't see her..

He missed you, 

My Juliet, 

He missed you so dearly.

My special girl.

The only girl that can really, truly help him through a time like this.

But I need to understand when I can power through,

Because he knows you’ll get him through this, and help guide him to the right choice here. 

Cesar pulled his phone out with shaky hands and sent a text to you, he was sure there were a few words that were misspelled, but you’ll understand what he meant. Hopefully. 

He sat in that classroom, patiently waiting for you to come to him. But this time alone helped him think to himself, about himself. 

Sometimes I act like I know, but I'm really just a kid.

He’s just a kid. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. All he’s really doing is causing problems.

With two corks in his eyes, and a bully in his head.

And hurting those around him because of his actions.

I wanna make a colour that no one else has seen before 

He wants to get out and do something with his life. He doesn’t want to be stuck in the gang for the rest of his life. 

I wanna be so much more

He wants to show everyone that he can make something of himself. That he’s not “Little Spooky”. That he’s Cesar Diaz. 

You walked into the classroom and saw Cesar sitting on the floor. You walked over to him and sat with him. You didn’t say anything to him, you just sat there and looked at him with a slight frown. 

You didn’t like this. He looked so exhausted. 

He had dark eye bags under his eyes, and even then they were red and puffy from the crying. He had tear marks on his face and his clothes were disheveled. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, resting his head on your shoulder, as you rubbed his back and lightly scratched his head while you held him.

“It’s ok Cesar.” 

He leaned back and looked at you with teary eyes, wondering what was running in your head as you saw him like this. 

I hope that she looks at me and thinks, "Shit, he is so pretty”

The one thing that was running through his mind at this moment was how you thought of him.

Something I can't believe..

[whomstress]

Bunnydoll Monster Labs au

Monster lab au for my friends @etanow au and @skellyjingles. Love you guys so much thank you for always being amazing friends!

Jax felt his eyes heavy as his focus came into view. He’s not quite sure when it happened but he was in his room. He thinks he must be really out of it because, despite seeing his lids, they seem still completely over his eyes. God must’ve worked himself too hard again and knocked the hell out in his lab. He frowns, suddenly remembering the last couple days. He was wide awake, sleeping 2 hours tops in the last 72 hours.

He hated sleeping when his brain was wired to no end. It felt like pins and needles under his skin begging for release, driving him further and further into insanity. Like an electric shock, but in all the worst ways. He’s been shocked enough that they were all bad. Well, not all of them. He thinks as a certain doll’s touches come into his head when they have a moment. He hadn’t felt them in a long time, but he still feels them so vividly in his memory.

Lighting at his skin and yet so soft and warm. Like the gentle heat of a campfire on a cold night. Comforting him into the perfect lull, begging for it to come closer, and wanting more warmth to spread through him.

As his thoughts begin to drift in nonsensical directions, he suddenly here's a sweet hum filling the room. The vibrations of the familiar tune hit his ears perfectly, causing him further to relax and sink into it until reality sinks back in.

He looks to the source of the sound, and there she is, halo’d in the pale yellow light of his room, like an angel, folding his clothes with plush fingers. Applying so much care to a simple chore he cared so little about. She always did that—cared for people in all the little ways they’d never think of themselves. And though Jax never said it to her face, he knows she understands his gratitude.

“Ragatha? What are you doing here?” Jax finally speaks up after watching her in and out of focus.

She simply hums, “Hmmm?” And continues her ministrations.

He feels his lips tighten into a flat line watching her go back to a happy hum.

“Jeez Jax I know I haven’t been here in a while, but you really let the place go, without me!” She giggles, and his worst habit breaks through.

“Ragatha,” he says firmly, and she turns to look at him, tilting her head in the sudden stern tone. “I said. What are you doing here?”

Despite the harshness in his voice, she simply rolls her eyes and moves to the side of the bed, poking in between his eyebrows, where they furrowed and giggled again. “Don’t be such a grumpy puss. Don’t you want to see me?” His eyes widen before he looks away. She guides his chin back toward her and says with a blush. “I really wanted to see you.”

He searches her eyes for a trick, but he can’t find anything but honesty. His brain skitters to a halt, and he actually lets him ponder the thought she means it before once again reality comes back. “What about Pomni?”

"Hmm, what about Pomni?” She says, smiling at him with her doe eyes.

“You know you two are practically joined to the hip. What is she going to think about this? Especially with me.”

Once again, she rolls her eyes and blows a strand of yarn from her face. “Pomni and I are in love. She understands me, and I understand her. She also has Caine. She’d never hate me if I had another love too.”

Logically, it made sense he’s literally seen Ragatha shock Pomni straight on the brian fixing her hair, and even as a drooling mess of a zombie, she still looked at Ragatha with literal hearts in her eyes as Ragatha apologized. However, this was him, Jax, the person Pomni hated most in the world. Would she really be okay?

But before he could say something else, he saw her stand up with a large yawn. He thought she was finally going to leave, and his heart sank a bit. But, almost in an instant, she was in his arms on the bed, with him starting to drift off. His heavy eyes widened, and he went to push her off, but she pulled him close and rubbed her cheek to his like she always would, like he wished so much she did again, and he couldn’t resist any more.

She held his hand but then moved to cup his cheek and bring their foreheads together, smiling at him like the love she once had was actually still there, and he smiled back. “God, I’ve missed you.”

Ragatha giggles a sweet sound, soft as melodic bells. “I’ve missed you too, love bun.” He melts into her touch despite the dumb nickname.

He rubs his thumb along her lips, and she presses them into it in a kiss. It’s so perfect something begs him to wake up; this can’t be real. Yet he moves closer, eyes hooded as he presses her closer so there’s not an empty space left between them. “You promise this isn’t a dream? You’ll still be here when I wake up.”

She’s a hush away from his lips, and her hot breath brushes his. “I promise.”

Jax’s eyes shoot open, and the blinding light of his lab hits his eyes, causing him to shut them tight and tense up, further waking him from any leftover slumber.

It was a dream. All of it, like it always is. He’s had dreams like this how many times? How many times is he going to fall for this shit?

“Of course it was a dream.” He blinks, and he realizes something hot drips down his face. “She's always a dream.”

[di-42]

May's Magnificent Fictions

First off let me share with you a little side note, because the brain wants what the brain wants. After an inner struggle I've finally decided to settle on using the noun "fiction" as countable when referring to works of fanfiction. I will stick to this. It has been bothering me.

And now for something completely enjoyable, let me present to you the lovely fics I've been lucky enough to read in May. I't's been a busy, at times stressful month and I haven't had the chance to read as many as I would have liked. I only made a tiny dent in my Marked for later list, which keeps growing and isn't it wonderful? I still have so much beauty, creativity and bliss to look forward to.

I'll try and tag the writers whose tumblr username I know, so they know how loved they are.

WIPs:

The first two WIPs of this list have made me realise that my new favourite trope is the "they never met" one. Or it might just be that both writers are incredibly good!

My Heart Was Always Yours by @addledmongoose

I love this fic and the author's other work so much that sometimes I worry the writer might think I'm stalking them or something! (I'm not! I promise! I only kind of start staring at my phone around 6pm on a Friday night UK time waiting for an update, that's all!). Anyway. like I was saying, in this fiction Aziraphale and Crowley never met until present day and, at the beginning of the story, neither of them knows the other is an angel or a demon. They have both been tasked by their respective head offices to retrieve Raphael's trumpet so Armageddon can start and they both want to find it and destroy it. So they embark on a journey together, thinking that the other is human. This story is so good. It has an incredibly well thought out plot, the characterisation of both, Aziraphale and Crowley are spot on, their interactions are funny and witty but also deep and very sweet. But the point that's dearest to me is that it shows the character of Aziraphale the respect it deserves, which sadly happens less often than it should. The way the writer describe the building of their relationship and their trust will fill your heart with warmth. The stoty has alternate Aziraphale and Crowley POVs and it's narrated in the first person, which will read funny at first but it will flow within the first couple of chapters and it will have been worth it!

This fiction is updated officially every Saturday but if you're very lucky and depending where you are in the world it might be Friday. Only a few more weeks to go, though, it's almost complete and I'll miss it (But I'll re-read it!) Rated M.

The Last Angel by @bellisima-writes

This is another excellent "they never met" story. In this universe, Crowley and Aziraphale were stationed on earth, Armageddon happened, and Hell won the war. All the angels have been killed, except one. This story only has the first 6 chapters out, but you can already see the wonderful job the author has done of thinking how Aziraphale and Crowley would be without having ever met each other, what would be the same and what would be different. And the same goes for other characters, too: so far we've had an insight of how Beelzebub is like in a different universe and hints at how other characters would behave as well. It is full of promise, it sets expectations that I'm hoping will be subverted and the writer is doing such an excellent job with it all. Please go and show this story some love, you won't regret it!

This fiction is updated weekly, definitely every Friday, but I understand from now on every Wednesday and Friday. Rated M.

The Escort by VinyamaDN @vinyama-23

Human AU where Crowley is an escort and Aziraphale hires him for a date. They start getting to know each other and the rest is history. This story touches very delicate subjects, but it's also funny and fluffy. Please read the tags. Rated E.

Whickber Street by Caedmon @caedmonfaith

Lovely human AU where Aziraphale has a bookshop in Whickber Street and Crowley opens a comic book shop on the same road. It's a slow burn, from one-enemy-to-lovers story, full of humour, charm and fluff. Featuring all the shopkeepers in Whickber Street, which is a treat! Update every Monday and Thursday without fail. Rated E.

Complete works:

And Now All Of My Garden Is Grown In Lavender by ilikeblue

I'm so grateful to my lovely mutual and penpal @dashuntsel for recommending this great human AU. Aziraphale is a successful queer romance author whose books are being adapted for TV. At the start of his career, his agent, Gabriel, insisted he claims to be married in order to gain more readers. Now that the spotlight is on him, Aziraphale needs someone to play the part of his husband. Did I mention that Crowley is Aziraphale's gardener and friend? I'm sure you know where this is going. This story has a little angst and lots of good vibes of trust, friendship, love and loyalty. And a happy ending! Rated E.

Lit by @fellshish

Fellshish is one of my favourite fiction writers and this piece doesn't disappoint. Making people laugh is much more difficult than making people cry and fellshish succeeds in the task so effortlessly! (They can also make you laugh while wanting to cry, but for that you'll have to read their other stories. This one is angst-free). Time-wise this story can be collocated after season 1 and is not canon compliant with season 2. Crowley enrolls in a literature course without realising it was a fantasy literature course. The book that will be read this semester is "Good Omens - The Nice And Accurate Prophecies Of Agnes Nutter, Witch". And the class will get to meet the author, Neil Gaiman. This book seems to describe only too well the event leading to the failed Armageddon, including things that only Aziraphale and Crowley would know. How is that possible? And what would happen if it fell on heavenly or hellish wrong hands? And, oh Satan, did someone say TV adaptation?? A truly amazing, funny piece that will make you feel better after a hard day at work. Rated Teen and up.

Gate Duty by Ginger_cat @gingiekittycat

Not really a crossover, but a Good Omens fiction with elements of The Good Place. You can absolutely read it and enjoy it if you haven't seen The Good Place. placed in time post season 1. Aziraphale is called back to heaven to Gate Duty and he's decided to go despite Crowley's protest. Crowley has Beelzebub assign him to Gate Duty as well, so they don't have to spend 300 years apart. So they set to out to judge the souls and decide whether to send them to the good place or the bad place, as they have rebranded heaven and hell. In the process they meet a few souls that you might or might not know, not the focus of the story. This fiction manages to be funny and incredibly angsty at the same time and it was incredible to see how some of the details in it would resonate with season 2, which wasn't out at the time the fic was written. Rated E.

Of Size And Other Matters by LCwrites

Lovely from strangers to lovers, fake relationship human AU. Aziraphale needs a date to accompany him to an event hosted by his brother, Gabriel. Crowley receives a text from a stranger, clearly by mistake, but why not having some fun? I really like the dynamics between them, the ease and the trust. A tiny bit of angsty pining but quickly and happily resolved. Rated E.

One shot:

Not Nice by Sad_chaos_goblin @sad-chaos-goblin

Great one shot that follows the wall slamming scene!What would have happened if the former nun hadn't interrupted their "Intimate moment"? This fic is a treat, sweet and hot and fluffy all at the same time. Rated E.

[jellys-compendium]

Welcome Home

A Dad!Vash Father's Day Special

Rating: T

Summary: Vash's adult children have left the nest, each pursuing their own hopes and dreams in the treacherous landscape of No Man's Land. Being the only one left at the ranch, there are some days where Vash feels lonely--but he finds solace in his children's visits and the memories of you. Wc: 3.3K Cw: angst, mentions of reader's death, depictions of grief and loss, familial hurt/comfort with a bittersweet/happy ending (A/n below the cut cause it's a long one)

Prefer to read on AO3?

A/n: Sorry this took a little bit longer than expected I had to stop and cry a few times. This oneshot is based on my Trimax series so it will be a little confusing to those who haven't read those fics (or Trimax), but I hope it's still enjoyable as a little standalone piece. There is quite a time jump in this fic with some implications about what happened to Vash and his family after Resurrection. I still hope to write out the third part of the series that covers this period of time, but it may take me a while. I'll do my absolute best to keep going until I feel this series is complete. Thank you so much to the people who've been so kind and sent me words of encouragement. It really helps motivate me to keep going. If anyone has questions about the story you're welcome to ask.

(***)

With a twist of his wrist, the hiss of running water fills the once silent bathroom. The groggy ex-legendary gunman groans as he rubs the sleep out of his eyes, blinking away the murky fog obscuring his vision. Vash had just woken up moments ago from his dreamless sleep and instead of lounging on the lonely mattress for a while longer, he resolved to stumble his way into the bathroom and start his day instead.

Slowly, Vash’s drowsiness dissipates, freeing his brain to cue him to cup some of the cold, running water in his right hand. The tips of his fingers tingle at the abrupt change of temperature. Once Vash has collected enough, he leans down and with the slightest grimace, splashes the water on his face. His breath stalls at the arctic shock, cool rivers rushing down his cheeks and dripping off his chin as the water washes away with finality the sleep of the night before. 

A couple more cool splashes later, Vash exhales a tired sigh and stands at his full height. He turns off the tap with another twist of his wrist before straining for the towel sitting on the self to his left. An inconvenience for him to be sure given his lack of a left arm, but it sits in the spot where you used to put it, and Vash could never muster the courage to change it. 

Once dry, Vash pauses and stares at his reflection in the mirror. It’s still a shock to the system. He’s changed more in the last thirty years than he ever has in the last two hundred. His once black hair is now more salt than it is pepper, his skin once only marred by scars is now decorated with lines and sunspots from the blistering sunlight. His flesh no longer holds that youthful suppleness, now looser and less rosy. The corner of his eyes is now permanently etched, wrinkled from the years of smiles and laughter he shared with you and the children.

Vash had never thought he’d see the day when he’d look into the mirror and see an old man staring back, and yet here he is. 

In his silent appraisal, Vash reaches up and traps a strand of a grey hair between his thumb and forefinger, twirling the dry, straw-like lock between the pads of his fingers. 

 He remembers the first silver hair you had found on his head all those years ago, and how excitedly you’d plucked it from his crown and showed it to him.

“Look honey, we’re finally starting to match!”

The hair on your head had been fully grey by that point, and despite your insistence to the contrary, you’d never been more beautiful in Vash’s eyes. As he helplessly watched you get older, Vash had resolved to treasure every moment he had with you. He insisted, pleaded, that the two of you promise to live life to the fullest each and every day, knowing that it wouldn’t be long before the cruelness of time ran its natural course.

“Oh, Vash. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t want to leave you. I wish I could stay longer. I love you…I love you…”

Vash’s hand drops, his vision clouding with saline tears as the last memory of you resurfaces along with all the pain and longing it carried.

I miss you. I miss you so much…

Vash forces in a trembling breath, fighting against the tightness constricting his lungs, suffocating him. No matter how many years have passed since your death, the agony of that day still lingers.

“We finally match now, mayfly.” Vash’s voice is barely above a whisper. “I wish you could see me now, you probably wouldn’t even recognize me.”

“Silly, I’d never forget that handsome face.”

Vash finishes up his morning bathroom routine, occupying his mind by reviewing his mental checklist of today’s tasks while listening to the morning chuffs and calls of the toma outside. 

The seasoned plant makes his way back into the bedroom, opening the closet door and rummaging a bit, pointedly ignoring your unraveling, dusty clothing that hangs and sways in the back like ghosts. Vash swallows the tight knot in his throat and pulls out his clothing for the day, setting it on the bed so as to free up his single hand to remove his sweatpants. 

As he dresses, Vash’s eyes wander, inevitably falling upon the most treasured item he possesses. A dustless, framed photo he keeps on his nightstand. It’s an old family picture taken graciously by a stranger who no doubt has long since passed. The photo depicts you, Vash, and your four children at the town’s yearly fair. 

To most, it’s just a quaint photo of a happy little family. But to Vash, what is encased in that little wood and glass box is more precious than all the wealth in No Man’s Land and beyond. It’s a happy and precious memory, an echo of a time when all the pieces of his world had been slotted perfectly into place. It’s the last thing he sees when he goes to sleep, and the first thing he looks at when he wakes up.

Vash has memorized every detail of the photo. He knows every color, every shade and line, and how he felt on the day it was taken. He’ll never grow tired of looking at it.

In the picture, you and Vash stand side by side, both of you beaming with one twin resting in each of your arms. Nico is perched high on Vash’s shoulders, his tiny fingers threading through his father’s long, black hair as he musters a shy little smile. Nico’s adorable little face looked so much like yours back then.

Nova on the other hand stands confidently between the two of you, her feet wide apart in a power stance with one hand on her hip while the other is extended forward, her middle finger looped cheekily behind her index finger in a sign Vash had taught her. The huge gap toothed smile stretched between her cheeks is one of pure joy as she’s captured in her essence entirely.

“Love and peace!”

Vash smiles, eyes burning hot as the bittersweetness of that joyful memory swells in his heart. Not a day goes by that he doesn’t miss you terribly, but the thought of never having met you at all, of never taking your hand and seeing what life had in store for the two of you, of never having taken that photo…that thought is an even more painful one to bear.

With his clothes now on, Vash makes his way towards the nightstand and reaches out to the photograph, his longing fingers brush along the fuzzy lines of your face enshrined behind the glass. 

He remembers.

The first time you smiled at him, and the last.

The first time you kissed him, and the last.

The first time you told him you loved him, and the last.

The first time you entwined your fingers with his…and the last.

Vash’s body tenses, his breath stalling at the haunting memory of your hand becoming cold in his. He swallows against the sob clawing at the back of his throat. His chest heaves as he gasps for breath, throat tightening and becoming painfully raw with the memories that tip and pour down from his mind and pool at the bottom of his heart.

I miss you. Oh, mayfly, I miss you…

But as Vash lets go, allowing his tears to fall as his grief resurges and washes over him, his blue eyes refocus on the faces of your children. Nova’s nose, Nico’s eyes, cheeks, chin, and shy little smile…the twins’ ears….

Vash’s fingers brush along the faces of his children. Fifty years have come and gone since you’d passed, but you’re still here, aren’t you? Living on through them and living through him. You’d never really left and as long as he’s here, you never truly will.

Everyday, Vash sees you in the home you’d helped him build, feels your presence in the sunset over the horizon of the land, hears your voice in the gentle zephyr that blows over the sand. And even though he can’t hold you anymore, or kiss your lips, or dance with you, or laugh at your jokes, everything that has ever mattered to him came from the life the two of you had built together.

And Vash will go on, cherishing every single day, every single second of it all, until the time finally comes when he can see you again.

Sniffling and finding solace at that thought, Vash wipes his tears away.

“Mayfly, you’d be so proud of them.”

Breathing out a cathartic sigh, Vash is about to head into the kitchen for breakfast when a distinct knock sounds from the front door. It’s melodic and jovial. It’s a sound that Vash would recognize anywhere.

“Special delivery for Mr. Stampede!”

Vash beams, his heart hammering as not unlike a flower, boundless joy blooms in his chest. It lifts his sorrow and lightens his step as he makes a beeline for the front door.

Vash can hardly wait, can barely respond to that cheerful voice beyond the door as his words topple over one another on his tongue. In a flash Vash makes it to his front door and opens it to reveal a face he hadn’t seen in months. That sweet little face that over the years had paradoxically changed so much and yet so little.

“Good morning papa!” Nova smiles, presenting Vash with a big white box secured expertly with a sparkling red bow. “Happy Father’s Day! I brought you a treat to celebrate.”

Vash’s radiant smile matches his daughter’s as he rushes over and pulls her into a huge, single armed, bear hug.

“Sheesh, almost a century old and you still call me papa?” Vash teases, squeezing her and swaying his now not so little star back and forth until she laughs, tapping out from his exuberant affection with a gentle swat to his back.

Vash releases Nova the moment she gives him the signal, grinning from ear to ear as he plants a big kiss on her head and takes the box of doughnuts from her.

“Welcome home, Nova.”

“Thanks, it feels good to be home.” Nova laughs, adjusting her travel bag across her shoulder. “And I’ll have you know it doesn’t matter how old I get, you’ll always be our papa. Besides, it would break your heart if we started to call you anything else.”

Vash unabashedly hums his agreement, placing his gift upon the porch’s little table before sitting on the patio swing and patting the space beside him so that Nova can take a seat. 

Putting down her travel bag—the very same that Vash used when he wandered No Man’s Land himself—Nova takes a seat beside her father, her sky blue eyes examining him as she makes herself comfortable.

“You’ve gotten smaller. Not by much, but still….”

Despite the tinge of worry in his daughter’s voice, Vash can’t seem to wipe the smile off his face. Not meaning to be dismissive but adamant to avoid his daughter to worry, Vash shrugs and tries to reassure her.

“I’m fine Nova, you don’t need to worry about me. I’m just happy to see you.”

Nova is still and Vash watches as she calmly and perceptively examines him. Vash’s smile widens under her scrutiny and Nova sighs, her hand coming to rest on her father’s knuckles. Vash remembers when it used to fit in the palm of his hand.

“I’m happy to see you too,” Nova says softly. “Have you been eating enough? I’m planning to stay for a few weeks if that’s okay. I can whip us up some belly busters, help fill you out a bit more? I know you’re tough but it can be hard running a ranch all by yourself.”

Vash slips his hand out from under Nova’s and reaches up to ruffle her shoulder length hair. His daughter’s fretting comes full circle as Vash himself starts to feel his chest grow heavy with worry at the sight.

The once radiant, golden crown Nova possessed as a child is now marked with streaks of alarming black. Vash’s keen eye notices a few more obsidian stripes have been added since he’d last seen her. She’s been pushing herself hard, using the insurmountable energy that flows through her veins to achieve a goal many thought impossible.

But Vash knows his daughter—has been witness to the limitless expanse of her determination. If anyone could achieve the dream she had set forth to make a reality, it would be her.

…

With a little help from Knives too, no doubt.

The recollection of his twin brother’s hand in his daughter’s crusade makes Vash frown, tepid anger bubbling beneath his skin. Nova senses it immediately and plucks her father’s hand from her head before pinning him with a stern look.

“None of that. I know what you’re thinking.”

“So, what have your siblings been up to?” Vash abruptly sidetracks, very unsubtle in his changing of the subject. Nova sighs, mumbling complaints of his stubbornness under her tongue before she replies.

“Last I heard, Nico’s been busy at the New July Medical Center. I think he’s been spearheading some important medical research based on what I’ve read in the Bernardelli Times. As for the twins…well you know them.”

Vash chuckles and shakes his head at the thought of those two running rampant across the wasteland. Truly, humanoid typhoons in their own right.

“I know. You’d have an easier time pinning down the wind than those two.”

Nova laughs.

“Yeah.”

“How about you?” Vash gestures towards Nova’s travel bag. “How has your work been going?”

Instantly, Nova’s eyes are alight with excitement, her lips hardly able to contain her smile. Without so much as another word she reaches for her bag, ruffles through the contents, and then pulls out her lovingly used journal. She turns through the crinkled, yellow pages, proudly showing her father the work she’d done over the last few months.

“I’ve been busy documenting and cataloging the typography and climate of the planet. Ran a few experiments too. I feel like I’m getting closer to figuring out the key to terraforming No Man’s Land.”

Vash whistles with awe, gently taking the journal from his daughter's hands so he can better study her scribbled notes and schematics.

As Vash thumbs through the pages, the two of them sit in silence for a while. Nova’s dream and the methods by which she is pursuing it is an old point of contention between the two, but Vash has long since learned that in matters such as these, his daughter is not to be swayed. 

Vash is worried to death for her, but he knows that if he’s to be a good father, he’ll need to let her go her own way and support her on her path. He’d promised you that before you left.

Eventually, Nova’s soft sigh breaks the silence. She reaches over and closes the journal in her father’s hand.

“Papa, I know that you and uncle Knives don’t see eye to eye, and that you’re less than thrilled about everything he’s been teaching me, but he’s right that humans and plants can’t keep on going on like this if either of us are to survive.”

Vash’s lips press into a thin line, his gaze hard and unfaltering from Nova’s. Born with her father’s stubbornness and her mother’s perseverance, Nova doesn't falter either. Not an inch.

“The spider eats the butterfly, but what happens when the butterflies are all gone? I’m not choosing sides, I want to try and save them both.”

Vash’s eyes widen, holding his breath as a flash of an ancient memory from his childhood returns to him. The smell of grass, his foolish hope and her naive wisdom…he recognizes it. An echo from long ago. Nova smiles as she rests her warm and reassuring hand on her father’s.

“I think grandma Rem would want that.”

Vash’s bated breath explodes forth from his lungs, his heart pounding and mind swimming as the realization dawns on him that perhaps everything that’s happened has been for a reason. Each little event in his life had been connected by a paradoxical amalgamation of free will and fate—an enigmatic puzzle put together by some unseen force, piece by piece over centuries, perhaps even across a millennia. 

And it was all made possible because of that one little moment in the med bay over two hundred years ago.

"Even if you’re in the dark right now, the blank ticket in your hand is just waiting to be filled in. So…so don’t…don’t throw it all away! Don’t let go! Don’t say you’d rather die!”

Vash’s vision blurs. He feels lightheaded and dizzy as he covers his mouth, choking back tears as memories of Rem, of you and the children, of Wolfwood, Meryl and Milly, of Brad and Luida, of everyone he’d ever loved and cared for emerges like a bright light from the deep, dark recesses of his lonesome despair.

“Let’s see the world together, let’s walk through it together!”

Vash’s sobs are uncontrollable now, snot running down his nose as he doubles over and hides, pressing his forehead to his knees. He’d been lonely, so unbearably lonely, but the truth is that he had never truly been alone. Not now and not ever. He has his children, his friends, and the memories of the people he loves to keep him going.

Vash’s body shakes with each choked gasp, withstanding each surge of the love and loss he’d endured like a rock against the crashing waves. It renders him helpless yet humbled beneath its wondrous might.

“S–sorry, Nova. I’m sorry, I…”

But all the while, Nova sits quietly beside her father, rubbing his back comfortingly as all that grief and love and loss and that damned foolish hope that he'd never been able to extinguish pours out of him in waves. 

Slowly, with time, Vash’s sobs quiet down into soft gasps…then sniffles, and then eventually, silence. The sound of the desert wind is the only thing they can hear whistling through the support beams.

Vash doesn’t know how long they stay like that, but eventually, Nova gently taps his shoulder, the rhythm of her fingers a soothing balm to his soul.

“Papa, look who’s here!”

Vash sits up and follows his daughter’s pointed finger into the horizon. He stops when he sees three figures approach, their silhouettes unmistakable despite the glaring sun.

They’re here!

Elated, Vash immediately stands and descends down the porch’s steps. Two of the figures instantly spot his approach, and before Vash can blink, they burst into a blindly fast sprint towards him, both cheerfully shouting in unison.

“PAAAAPAAAA!! WE’RE HOOOME!!” 

The twins show their old father no mercy, both nearly tackling him to the dirt path with their smothering hugs. Nico is quick to join them, wrapping all three of them in his long, lithe arms.

“Careful you two, you’ll kill the old man.”

Vash’s laughter rings across the dunes as he holds his children close, the sound bouncing joyously as it mingles with the warm zephyr that surrounds them. Overjoyed, fresh tears swell in the proud father’s eyes in droves of unwavering happiness. They’re here, and you’re here. Everyone is here together—in his mind, in his soul, and in his heart.

Vash squeezes them all in the tightest hug he can muster, a testament to the depths of unending love a father has for his children.

“Welcome home.” Vash whispers.

dividers by @/saradika

[sykosomatic]

brain juice has been absorbed!!! how about ftm reader is ovulating, and is just BEGGING to be bred by will and hannibal? his poor pussy is just leaking, and his own fingers arent enough to make him feel good :(

his two lovers take turns breeding him all day, makin sure they pump him full of cum. the poor boy is all overstimulated and ruined by their thick cocks<3

obivously they give him so much aftercare, jus drowning their pretty little boyfriend in priase

-🚄

yesyesyesyes!!! this is such a fun request, i hope you have half as much fun reading it as i did writing it lol... here we go!!!

ovulating ftm!reader x will graham and hannibal lecter!

cw: ftm reader, ovulation mention, possible dysphoria, ftm reader gets his breasts fondled/reader is pre- top surgery, double penetration, no condom/cum inside/anal and vaginal creampies, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, praise kink, anal and vaginal fingering, squirting, multiple orgasms, threesome and use of words: cock, t-cock, clit, pussy, cunt, hole, slit, folds… etc etc… and aftercare of course!

you'd been miserably horny all morning, waking up with your pussy already drooling. both of your lovers were busy with work, so that left you in hannibal's sprawling house all alone. you'd tried your fingers all morning; one, two, and three… but nothing worked. you could tell that something was going on; you were only this drippy when you were ovulating. if only will and hannibal were home; but you had to wait a few more hours. so fingering it was. you couldn't remember where you'd put your sex toys when you'd moved into hannibal's house with him. will was thinking about moving in too; he was there enough. he just wanted to make sure there was enough room for his dogs, and a suitable place for all of his fishing gear.

desperate for release, you texted hannibal with one hand, knowing that he only had a couple of appointments today… he'd most likely be home before will. you asked him when he'd be home and he told you what you'd expected; a couple hours.

so you were forced to finger your slick, throbbing pussy all by yourself. you were whiny and frustrated, two fingers in your ass and two in your pussy when hannibal arrived home from his last appointment. he chuckled at you, looking at your position with amusement. as you noticed him, you felt a warmth wash over your skin, making you even more needy.

"so, this is why you needed me so bad," hannibal said with a sly grin, watching you as you slowly continued. you were face-down with one arm beneath you reaching up to finger your pussy, the other arm over your back and reaching to finger your ass. hannibal approached you as you whined out your response, starting to undo his belt and zipper. he pulled you closer to him by your hips; you continued fingering yourself as he dry-humped your bare ass with his clothed cock. you could feel it getting harder as he began grinding against you. "good boy, keep touching yourself for me," hannibal praised, sounding proud of his little whore. "you're so needy today, my love," he purred at you. "i'm not sure if i'll be enough to satisfy you… but then again, i'm sure my needy pet won't be able to wait for will, would he?"

you whimpered, fingering yourself harder. it really wasn't enough, it wouldn't be enough until you had two cocks inside you filling you to the brim with cum. "i need your cock," you whined out, your brain turned to mush in your needy, dick-drunk stupor.

hannibal chuckled, starting to pull his cock out of his underwear. when you pulled your fingers away to make room for him, he made sure you left the ones in your ass. in lieu of a butt plug, you assumed. he pressed the head of his cock against your drooling pussy, slowly pushing it in. his cock was thick, stretching wider than the two fingers you'd had in, but slipping in with ease since you'd worked yourself open already. you groaned out deeply, your free hand gripping the sheets beneath you as he sunk himself into you. "oh, god…" you murmured. his cock was always a treat; it was long, with a nice girth. it always filled you up so deeply. will's cock was shorter, but had a little more girth. the perfect combination of their cocks was hannibal in your pussy and will in your ass; that always made you lose your mind. but for now, you'd have to make do with your fingers instead of will.

hannibal held himself inside you for a moment, holding your hips with one hand while the other reached up and fondled one of your breasts, pinching and teasing at your nipple. "how do you feel now, my darling?" hannibal asked you, watching your blissed-out expression.

"so, so good," you managed to whimper, steadily working up to moving your fingers in your ass again. you stopped once hannibal started moving his hips, your knees starting to get weak and your arm getting tired. you held it in place whule hannibal started to rock his hips into you, thrusting in a way that made your breasts bounce. your face went warm; typically this was very embarrassing for you, but your lovers always made you feel perfect and confident.

"let's get you more comfortable, then," hannibal said, replacing your fingers with his and letting you get into a more comfortable position, fucking into you nice and slow while his fingers massaged inside your ass. you moaned in satisfaction, letting more muscles relax as he fucked into you lovingly. "you're doing so well, look at you take my cock so deep," hannibal purred at you, groping your ass with his free hand. he slowly began to increase his speed and force as you got needier. he pulled you closer and sheathed himself deep inside you; so deep, you thought you could feel him in your stomach. he added another finger into your ass and started fingering you roughly.

"oh!… o-oh, fuck, that's good." you whined out, arms folded on the bed in front of you and your face buried against them. the force of him fingering you made your body lurch forward with every thrust. you grunted and groaned out as he finger-fucked your ass; it made your pussy throb and clench around his cock. you could feel yourself inching toward a climax, your pussy was dripping down your inner thighs and they were starting to tremble."so, so good," you repeated, starting to drool on your arm. hannibal could tell you were getting closer; he pulled his cock out of your pussy and slipped it into your ass, sheathing it in and making you almost cry. he felt so good, and he knew perfectly how to fuck you. it was insane.

hannibal fucked your ass and reached around to your clit, swirling his finger around it. your t-cock was swollen and sensitive, and his touch was able to send you over the edge. you whined out as he thrusted one last rough time inside your ass, spilling his cum deep inside you. that last thrust made you cum hard, squirting buckets all over your inner thighs and soaking the sheets beneath you. "yes, yes, oh fuck, yes!" you gasped out as your legs shook with the force of your orgasm.

hannibal let you ride it out before he pulled his cock out of your ass slowly, rubbing your sides and easing you down onto the bed in a comfortable position. he praised and petted on you as you relaxed and came down from your high. "you did so well, dear," he told you as he led you into the bathroom to clean you off.

hannibal got undressed after he set you in the hot water he'd drawn for you, climbing into the large tub with you and settling you onto his lap. it had been barely fifteen minutes since you'd cum and you already felt needy again; truly, your sex drive was wildly high right now. thankfully, this typically amused hannibal, and he had a rather small refractory period as well. this wasn't the first time you'd proposed a day full of fucking, and surely wouldn't be the last. after hannibal massaged your sore muscles and got you cleaned up a bit, you began grinding your pussy down against his cock in the water. it felt so good just brushing between your slit.

"already ready for round two?" he chuckled, leaning in to pull your nipple into his mouth, playing with it between his teeth. you groaned, nodding, your hands exploring his chest and teasing his nipples in return. "so impatient… can't even let will join in for our second go-around?" he teased, slurping on your breasts and starting to leave little love marks.

you reached down and slid hannibal's cock back up into your pussy, slowly but surely. your eager hole took him in easily. you sat firmly down on his lap, his cock balls-deep inside you. "fuck, that's good," you groaned, wiggling your hips to allow your pussy to re-adjust. and as soon as it did, hannibal's hands held your hips tight and started to bounce you on his cock. it made you feel weightless when he did this, made you feel so confident when he stared hungrily at your breasts or even leaned in and licked or sucked on them. hannibal was such a good lover, along with will, whose presence you longed for. you were so needy; soon you'd need them both to even have a chance at getting off.

hannibal rode you on his cock for a good little while and sucked on your nipples until you came on his cock again, throwing your head back and moaning out as you held the sides of the bathtub to stabilize yourself. hannibal held you firmly as you rode out your highs together, filling you up a second time as your pussy clenched around his cock. being filled up again made you groan; you always loved the feeling of your lovers filling you to the brim with their cum. you leaned forward and let him hold you against his chest for a bit before the two of you actually got properly cleaned up and got out of the tub.

"i'll be out in a minute, my dear, i think i hear my phone ringing," hannibal said to you as he kissed your forehead, slipping on some pajama pants as he went into the bedroom to answer his phone.

you heard keys in the front door; you were too excited to put anything on because you knew it was will.

you basically attacked him with a hug, making him chuckle. "quite the outfit choice," he commented playfully, looking you up and down. you brought his lips to yours in a deep, needy kiss. your sexual stamina had already refilled, and you wanted him so badly.

"we just got out of the bath," you told him, starting to pull his coat off of him, breathless, kissing him roughly. he kept chuckling at you.

"you're so needy today," he teased, playfully kissing you back as he held you against him. "let me at least get the door closed, dear," he said, you begrudgingly allowing him to do so.

you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and kissed him, his hands going to grope your ass with his rugged hands. you started tugging his clothes off of him again as he led you into the dining room, lifting you up onto the table and spreading your legs. you were so excited when your lovers knew exactly what you wanted, when they just got straight into it. there was a specific deliciousness to waiting for it, to the nice and slow passion… but god, what you wanted right now was to be plowed hard and fast, over and over and over.

will kept kissing you hard as he dropped his pants and you took his cock eagerly out of his underwear. he groaned at the feeling of your hand on his length, his hands going up to grope at your sides and your chest. you gave him a nice, slow handjob as two of his fingers slipped into your already-wet cunt. he groaned out at how wet you were for him, grinning warmly against your lips. "you're so good for me, always ready to take me, aren't you?" he growled into you ear, nipping at your earlobe playfully.

"yes, will, i need you so bad," you whined at him. "i need you to fill me up," you told him as you heard hannibal's slow footsteps behind you. he walked around the table, giving will a deep kiss as will fingered you. you watched them kiss, whining. the sight of them touching each other always turned you on and made you jealous in equal amounts. hannibal whispered something in will's ear, standing behind him and starting to rub his sides and stroke will's cock. this allowed you to lay back and relax, letting will stick a third finger in and start to play with your t-cock. it was still sensitive, and made your legs start to tremble. "oh, right there!" you said, laying back and putting your feet up on the table to give will better access to you. you laid there in bliss, eyes falling closed as will worked his fingers up into you, curling them up and hitting that special spot he was so good at hitting. before long, you were squirting on his fingers, eyes shooting open to reveal that hannibal was fucking will's ass, and hard. will was some kind of super hero to be getting fucked like that and still able to make you squirt so hard. "oh, fuck.. that's hot," you giggled, blissed out from your orgasm. will grabbed your hips and pulled you flush against his lap, sliding his cock up into your pussy.

"yes, right there, don't stop," you heard will whisper to hannibal. will's hips moved with the force of hannibal's thrusts, making him thrust into you. he held you close against him, keeping himself inside you as he was fucked into. soon you were overstimulated to the point that you came on his cock, the force of your orgasm milking his cum into your pussy, and hannibal's into will's asshole. the three of you stood there panting for a bit, kissing and massaging each other until you retired into the bedroom for another round. at your begging, of course.

"c'mon, just one more time?" you whined at the two of them; they shared a little smirk and helped you get into your favorite position. hannibal beneath you, his cock sliding up into your waiting pussy, and will behind you. will's fingers worked your asshole back open before he slid his cock in. it was so perfect, the combination of their cocks in your holes. you sat there for a second as your holes adjusted to their girth, and when you gave the nod, they started moving. you moaned near constantly as will and hannibal's cocks worked in and out of you. after the day you'd had being filled up, it was almost to intense for you, making you see stars as they groped and kissed on yo, and each other. they took turns in speed and intensity, and will came first, filling your ass to the brim. his cum spilled out of you and dripped down your legs when he pulled his cock out.

"your ass looks so good like that," will said, as hannibal thrusted roughly up into you, hard and fast, the sound of your wet, gushy pussy echoing through the room. "you're so, so good at taking two cocks at once," will told you as he slid his cock back inside you; it squelched as he used his own cum as lube. you felt yourself cum as he slid his cock up to the hilt and slapped your ass just hard enough to leave a mark.

your holes clenched up and made hannibal cum deep into your cunt. both of your lovers held you close as they finished pumping you full of cum, the three of you moaning in pleasure and almost collapsing in a pile as waves of exhaustion washed over you. hannibal and will managed to help you back to the other bathroom, drawing a bath in the bigger tub that the three of you could soak in and relax. hannibal was the first to recover and brought back some water and chocolates for everyone to tide you all over until dinner.

[sweetsweetjellybean]

May I ask what present day torn Eddie is doing right now? (If you can share without spoiling anything, of course)

I just miss him so much, okay? 😭🥹

Well, let’s see….

There have been lots of new songs dropping since the beginning of the summer, translating into a very busy time for Eddie. He’s taken on a couple of employees over the last few years and some interns as well. Managing people isn’t Eddie’s strong suit, so the stress of that, combined with handling demanding artists eager to cash in on the warm weather vibes and get singles out quickly, has led to many late nights in the studio. Exhausted, he drops into bed as the sun casts pinks and golds through the window, planting sloppy kisses on the cheek before his eyes close tight.

But it’s not all work. After all, that would make Eddie a very dull boy. Bands and artists have been playing shows all over the city, and the two of you have definitely been indulging. Despite his complaints of being an old man, he drags you into a bathroom at the Salt Shed, ignoring the groans of those still waiting in line.

He's quick to have you up against the wall, kissing like he's making up for every missed opportunity. He spins you around, taking both wrists and pressing your hands against the wall before grabbing at your hips, pulling them back towards him until your ass is sticking out at just the right angle. He works the buttons of your shorts open, letting them slip down your legs to the floor without care. After all these years, he knows your body just about as well as you do. He knows how to make you cum when he takes you quick and dirty.

“You like everyone out there knowing you're about to get fucked, doll?” he asks, spitting into his palm and rubbing it through your folds.

You're already panting, resisting the urge to rest your face against the bathroom wall. He circles your clit before sliding his fingers inside. “Jesus, already so wet for me.”

“Just for you, Eddie.” You bounce your ass riding his fingers. “Don’t make me wait.”

“Missed my cock that bad?” His breath is hot in your ear as the clink of his belt fills the small space. His leaking tip is teasing your entrance when your hips surge backward taking him all the way inside. Your satisfied groans harmonize as the bass pumps against the walls.

A fist banging against the door has the two of you freezing. “Hurry the fuck up in there.”

Your head turns to find Eddie's smug grin. He leans forward, capturing your giggling mouth with his. "You heard the man." His thrusts come hard and fast. Your elbows lock to brace yourself as the fire licks through you, building to an inferno.

“Yes. God. Please, Eddie,” you babble on your exhales spurring him on. Your fingers find your clit, adding to the intensity.

"That's it, doll. Christ, you're so fucking hot." The tempo of his thrusts changes again as his hips slam into your ass. His full length slides deep and wet, sending stars bursting in your vision.

“Eddie, I'm so close.” Heavy breaths increase to full moans that echo off the black painted walls.

"I'm with you. Gonna fill this pussy. Gonna keep going 'til you scream." The sharp sting of his hand coming down on your ass pushes you over the edge. Detonating, your whole body shakes. His arm snakes around your waist, supporting your weight as he holds you in place for his final thrust, his warmth flooding inside you.

Both of you have the good sense to look contrite when you exit the bathroom to find security waiting

"Not again, Ed." The brawny man crosses his arms over his chest. "Aren't you two a little old for this?"

"Sorry about that," Eddie says, reaching out for a handshake with folded bills in his palm. "I'd like to promise it won't happen again, but I can't seem to keep my hands off my wife.”

*Sorry this took so long, Anon. I, too, am very busy, but Eddie has been running rampant in my brain. A meance, as always.*

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

💖 Crazy for you 💖

After an embarrassing almost kiss under the mistletoe with your boss Eddie you're determined to move on.

You're the nanny to his adorable son and have been crazy about Eddie for months but now you know you needed to move on after the events at his Christmas party.

Except it isn't so easy and Eddies feelings aren't so platonic.

Authors note: This idea has been in my head for days and I just had to write it 💖

Older Eddie Munson x Reader. Reader is in her late 20's. Eddie is 41.

Warnings: Angst, Dad Eddie Munson, fluff. Jealous Eddie.

Don't copy, reuse or repost my work.

💖

Being in love with your boss wasn't exactly the best idea you had ever had.

It's just Eddie Munson was the most amazing man you had ever met and you had fallen for him over the last year you had been working with him.

Cole's mother wasn't in the picture. She and Eddie were a fling that resulted in a pregnancy.

She had left Cole with Eddie and Uncle Wayne when he was born, she wanted nothing to do with Eddie or the baby and so she left.

How anyone could leave these sweet boys you would never know.

When you were first landed the job as Cole's nanny Eddie was a little stand offish, it took him a little while to open up but once he did it was amazing. You got to know him really well and began to fall for him.

He was without a doubt the sexiest man you had ever met and you struggled to hide your feelings a lot of the time.

Coupled by the fact that Cole was the sweetest little boy and Uncle Wayne was an abosloute angel, you settled into the job quickly and being with Eddie and Cole felt like it was always meant to happen.

Tonight there was a party at Eddie's for Christmas and you were enjoying a few drinks, it wasn't often that you drank alcohol but you wanted to enjoy the night.

The only trouble was that the alcohol made you braver than normal. That wouldn't normally be a problem but tonight it was.

When you were left alone with Eddie, belly filling with butterflies as he stood close to you the feelings had for him began to get harder and harder to ignore.

Mistletoe hung from the ceiling and Eddie's eyes twinkled as he looked up at it.

"Ahh shit, it got us princess" he teases and you smile as he kisses your cheek.

It was stupid but you leaned up to kiss him and you knew it was a mistake as soon as his eyes widened and he moved away.

Mortified you stammer out and apology and his eyes pain.

"Shit, we can't. We can't do this" you nod and move away from him kicking yourself internally for thinking that he wanted to kiss you.

"I'm sorry Eddie. I should go" you suddenly feel very very sober and grab your jacket. Eddie gently tugs your arm.

"You don't have to leave. It's fine sweetheart, we can just forget it. It's okay" you shake your head.

"I really should go" you don't want to see the pity in his eyes. Know he doesn't feel that way about you.

Fuck you should have known.

❤️

Sleep comes slowly that night once you're home, everytime you wake up you remember trying to kiss Eddie and anxiety fills you.

You couldn't believe how badly you had messed up. Embarrassment floods through you, practically burning the memories from last night into your brain.

Fuck, why did you try to kiss him? he was so sweet how he let you down so gently and you're kicking yourself that you thought he felt the same, that you almost jeapordized the job you loved.

Nancy brings you aspirin and you down it quickly. She rubs your shoulder and you feel sick to your stomach as you tell her what happened.

"I haven't got drunk like that in ages but I thought I'd let loose for one night and have a few drinks and then Eddie was being all sweet and I fucked up, I tried to kiss him and I'm so stupid"

Nancy hugs you as tears run down your cheeks. The rejection feels awful too and every part of you aches.

"He let me down really gently but I'm just so mortified" Nancy soothes you.

"Well maybe it's a good thing you know how he feels. Now you can move on. Jonathan says Nick keeps asking about you, why don't you give him a chance you might really like him?"

Maybe that was exactly what you needed, you find yourself nodding and cuddle back into bed.

At least you could use your day off to get rid of this hangover and give some distance between you and Eddie. Hopefully when you went back to work you could forget this ever happened.

❤️

True to Nancy's word she did tell Jonathan to talk to Nick and that's how three days after the party you had a date.

It couldn't have come at a better time because while Eddie hadn't mentioned the kiss but there was a tension in the air between you. It made you feel even worse, you had totally screwed up.

Nick was cute and it was part of your plan to get over Eddie. It was time you stopped daydreaming about him liking you, he didn't and you had to accept that.

He went on dates with beautiful women and he had never once looked at you in any way other than a friend and his employee, you needed to stop deluding yourself.

Since you were finishing your shift before your date it was a little tight for time, however you squeezed in time to change into one of your best dresses and apply a little bit of make up.

Eddie was singing with Cole and it warmed your heart, the urge to just go and spend time with them and forget your date was overwhelming but you know you needed to do this.

With a spritz of perfume you walk out to where Eddie is and he blinks looking stunned, his response makes your heart quicken.

"You going out with friends tonight?" he asks as you grab your jacket.

"Oh um no, I have a date" you don't expect a reaction or anything so it's a suprise when he stiffens as Cole toddles up to you and beams.

"A date?" you nod.

"Yeah. It's been a while. I'm so nervous" you admit and he softens.

"Don't be... You look beautiful sweetheart" he murmurs.

The doorbell rings and you hurry to answer it feeling flustered at Eddie's eyes burning into you as you answered it.

Nick was standing outside and whistles when he sees you.

"Wow, you look good babe" his smile disappears as you feel Eddie right behind you. Chancing a glance at him you notice the way his big brown eyes are flashing and his jaw is tense as he looks Nick up and down.

"You're the date?" Eddie demands and Nick chuckles.

"Quick as a cat huh dude?" he smirks and Eddie's eyes narrow. It was a stupid comment and you're disappointed. It would be nice if Nick could make a good impression with Eddie.

"How did you meet?" Eddie's tone is low and there's a hint of something in it, venom like and you're confused at why he's pissed.

He could just feel protective you reason as Nick launches into the story of how you met through Jonathan and Nick had wanted to date you for ages.

Eddie is still tense as you grab your coat and he takes you to the side as Nick waits for you.

"The bedroom is set up for you for later. I do appreciate you coming back tonight. You know how Cole loves when you stay over. I'm really grateful sweetheart"

Nick sighs loudly and looks at his watch and you cringe as Eddie's eyes narrow.

"Call me if you need to leave early, if he's an asshole, anything happens you call me okay?" you nod and your heart melts when Cole toddles over to you and hugs your legs.

"Bye bye" he murmurs sadly and his puppy brown eyes and little pout nearly make you cancel the date all together.

"Hey sweetie. I'll see you first thing in the morning. We can watch your favourite cartons yeah?" Cole brightens and smiles happily until Nick walks over to you and him.

"Hey little guy" Cole narrows his eyes and turns away from Nick.

"Poo poo head" he points at Nick and you gape and nearly burst out laughing but control your face expression.

"Cole that's not nice" Eddie tells Cole who still doesn't look impressed. Sensing it's time to go you hug Cole one more time and head out with Nick.

Hopefully the actual date went better...

❤️

Yeah, the date was a disaster.

Nick had left you at the resteraunt and had stormed out in a huff when he kissed you. You had tried to like it, you really did but you felt nothing and when Nick tried to go further than a kiss.

His words of anger ring in your ears and the last few days catch up with you and you feel tears roll down your cheeks.

Why did you have to fall for someone so unattainable? Dejected you call a cab to take you back to Eddies.

It suprises you when you head inside that Eddie is waiting up for you. He's sitting on the couch, dressed in slacks and a tight white t shirt, his hair in a bun. He looks so effortlessly gorgeous and your heart aches with want.

"Hi, you didn't need to stay up" he shrugs and stands up as he accesses you.

"You've been crying?" Shit, you forgot how perceptive he was.

"Date didn't go like I hoped" Eddie's eyes flash with anger.

"Did that fucker upset you?" you shake your head and settle on the couch.

"No, I mean we kissed and I felt nothing and Nick wasn't happy about that. I really did try to like him but the spark wasn't there. He ranted at me and stormed off" he takes your hand and squeezes it.

"You should have called me. He sounds like a douchebag to me princess" it makes you smile a little bit.

"I guess I just wanted to meet a nice guy instead of being so into... You freeze and shake your head, cursing yourself for nearly saying how you felt about him.

"Into who?" you swallow and look away from his big brown eyes because you'll give in and tell him everything.

"It doesn't matter. It's stupid" he gently tilts your cheek so you look at him.

"Tell me"

"I want you but I know you don't feel the same and I messed up on Saturday but" You panic as the words spill out and he caresses your cheek which stops you mid sentence.

"You didn't mess up sweetheart. It took me be suprise when you tried to kiss me, I never thought you could feel that way about me, I panicked and I've been kicking myself ever since"

Oh...

Eddie kisses you passionately and you respond to the kiss pulling him closer to you.

"I'm sorry I pushed you away princess. I do want you, I've never felt this way about anyone ever. I don't want you to date that fucking douchebag, that boy has no idea how to treat an angel like you"

He presses a kiss to your forehead and you rest your head and you wrap your arms around him.

"I'm going to take you out tomorrow. Uncle Wayne won't mind babysitting, he's been wanting me to admit how I feel about you for a long time" his confession makes you giddy and you agree beaming.

"I'd love to"

"I'm going to spoil you rotten princess, you're my girl and I want you to be mine, always"

Always, you liked the sound of that.

💖

[14thcommander]

loml | hange x reader

summary: the first time hange sees you after your breakup.

cw: 1k words, and listen this is angst okay. open ending. smoking and swearing. both of them are bitter af. no beta we die like hange: scared but willingly. recommended songs for listening while reading this: cowardice by defeater, loml by taylor swift and/or such small hands by la dispute. enjoy!

Hange has managed to avoid you for a few of months now.

It didn’t really manage to soothe the ache in their heart, almost as if the phantom of your relationship still existed around Hange. Traces of you left behind the scene of their heartbreak, a couple of lipsticks in the bathroom, a Polaroid of your smile attached to the fridge. There isn’t a day in which Hange wakes up in a cold bed and not misses the feeling of your body next to theirs.

“Tch, gotta at least pretend a little. You look miserable.”

Levi’s mellow voice doesn’t hurt them, and Hange notices how he hasn’t used any insults to address them for the past couple of weeks.

There’s music and chatter filling the air, making Hange feel exhausted at the thought of interacting with people alone. They are hiding in the balcony, with Levi by their side. Smoking seemed like a good reason to excuse themselves from the conversation.

“Well, Sherlock, I am miserable.” Hange mumbles, cigarette dangling from their lips. “Shit, where’s my lighter?”

Before Hange can look in their pockets, Levi fishes a silver lighter from his own, handing it to them. A muttered thanks is all he gets in return.

It was Nanaba’s birthday celebration, a dinner slash party slash event happening at the shared house of Miche and Nana. The thought of the happy couple only makes the pain more sour.

“You sound like a fucking emo teenager. What is this, 2006?”

Needless to say, they weren’t handling the break up very well. They wonder if you were affected by it at all. It’s been, what, three months?

In the meantime, Hange’s hair got messier. Dark circles now adorned their brown eyes. They picked up the bad habit of smoking again, one they had dropped when they were a graduate — the reason they quit in the first place was your breathing issue. Was it bronchitis?

Everything is blurry lately.

Hange hears Levi mutter yet another curse word under his breath, but they think none of it. Smoke enters and leaves their lungs, slowly poisoning their body.

“Smoking kills, you know.”

The sound of your voice makes Hange momentarily freeze in place, as their brain short circuits at the sound of the words you once told them years ago.

Slowly, awfully slowly, they turn around, being met with the sight of you.

You got a haircut since the last time you saw each other, and it suits you perfectly. There’s a guilty smile playing on your lips, painted in a color they haven’t seen you wear before. Something darker, edgier. After all, your favorite lipstick was left at Hange’s place.

“Yeah, too bad.” It’s what they come up with, taking another drag, blowing the smoke towards the open air, in order to avoid it reaching you.

There’s a beat of silence, and you get closer.

What now? Hange thinks. What the fuck am I supposed to do?

Perhaps they should have been nicer, more gentle.

You give them a chuckle, followed by “It doesn’t smell good, either.”

It was a far friendlier response than what they originally expected.

“I’ll leave you two to it.” Levi states, before discarding his own cigarette in the ashtray. It was awkward enough as it is. “Figures.”

Silence weighs heavy between the two of you, the tension so thick it barely allows you to move — but you do. Of course you do. While Hange is curious and erratic, manic even, you manage to be the reckless one in this relationship. Did, actually.

“How you’ve been?” You dare to ask, and Hange almost gasps in disbelief.

Their dark eyes find yours as they bury the remains of the cigarette in the ashtray. Something inside them snaps, thinking about how this seems like a scene straight out of a nightmare.

“The usual. You?”

Their stab seems to reach your heart, from the look on your face, and it almost pains them. Almost.

“Well, uh… still living in Petra’s guest room. Working a lot. You know, stuff.”

Hange chuckles in return. They know damn well about stuff — crying before sleeping, not being able to eat from how much they miss you, smoking for breakfast. Stuff.

“Stuff. Yeah, I know.”

A glean around your neck makes them notice how you are still wearing the necklace they gave to you, the jewelry reflecting the moonlight. It was Hange’s birthstone or something like that. Something they didn’t understand why you liked, but still gifted it to you in order to make you happy.

“Yeah.”

Another beat of silence. Another piece of their heart dropping on the floor, cracking like glass.

“Was wondering if you’d like to, um, catch up or something. I miss you.”

They chuckle again.

“Sweetheart.” They fully turn their face to you, seeing you standing closer than they thought you were. The sound of the old nickname tastes bitter on their tongue. “You are the one who decided to call it quits. You don’t have to make small talk out of pity.”

You make a sound that seems like something between a scowl and a sigh, avoiding Hange’s somber eyes.

“I don’t pity you. Believe it or not, I don’t see you as a victim-”

“Excuse me?”

“although I do regret what I did. I was fucking depressed and didn’t want to be a burden to you. I’m sorry, I realize I fucked up. All I’m asking for is a second chance to make this right, to take care of you again. And, you know, let you take care of me too.”

Hange sighs. You blink at them.

“I really am sorry, Han. I wanna make this work. These past months have been the worst of my life. I regret breaking up every single day.”

Hange stares at your moonlight glazed eyes, nodding.

“Yeah. Guess we can go out for coffee or something.”

[conchoronzon]

Is it possible when you have the chance can you do a stepdad vore stepson because wife wanted to get rid of old family with ex husband

Joe's bachelor party was supposed to be pretty simple. His brother, Gary, my future uncle, was the one who was planning all of it. A small group of us guys just hanging out at the hotel a couple of days before the wedding. Video games, beer, poker, tanning, steaks.

When my phone went off while at the pool, Joe splashed some water my way. He may have been a suave lawyer, but he was always a little playful. "That Grindr?"

And of course, that led the rest of the guys teasing me. Gary grabbed his speedo with a chuckle and said. "I ordered some women. Wouldn't have done that if I knew we had a cocksucker here."

"I'm not going to suck your cock, uncle," I said.

Joe grabbed me. "So he gets to be 'uncle' but you still won't call me 'dad,' huh? Little shit." We went under water.

That night, we were drinking beer in Joe's room. We were on our second round of Texas Hold 'Em. Porn played on one tv on silent - gay porn, a sort of "first person to get hard has to suck everyone's cock thing, no doubt more teasing aimed at me. On another, some violent action flick I'd never seen played. The effects were outdated. My vision was getting a bit blurry. My eyes were heavy. Why was I so tired?

"You okay, bud?" Joe asked, and then I passed out.

When I cam too, groggy and blinking away the blurry lights, my head was pounding. My limbs were stiff and heavy. My breaths were small, but it wasn't like it was hard to breathe. Everything was cool and sticky. Gary was grinning down at me. He was naked. "He's awake," he called. The rest of the guys cheered.

I was on the table. The guys were over by the TV. They were all naked, including Joe. God he was handsome. Nice thick cock, too. What was I thinking? That was gross. Shit. Were they making good on the whole "having a cocksucker around" thing?

Joe made his way to the head of the table or, rather, where my head was. His heavy balls pressed down against my forehead. They were so warm. "Too bad you didn't want to call me daddy while choking on my dick, kid," he said. He called me that when he wanted to piss me off. I'd just graduated college. I was a grown-ass man. Him being a prick like that sometimes was why I refused to call him dad. Not to mention, he still wouldn't be my step-father for a few more days.

He ground his balls against my face, then pulled away and leaned over me with a wicked grin. "If you had, I probably would've kept you around. But your mom wants a family of our own, and if you don't want to be my pet, then..."

His jaw unhinged like some creature from a horror movie. My slow heart stopped for a moment. When it came back too, the world was dark and wet. His tongue pulsed beneath my head. His teeth gently scraped over my back. Slick, wet sounds, swallowing sounds, filled my ears as I slipped further... inside my mouth.

Joe was eating me.

My head dangled over the abyss of his throat. Outside, the guys cheered him on. Someone was rubbing their cock between my feet. Others were engaging my hands.

A slight, impossible light filled his throat. Saliva spilled down the pink walls of his throat. "Stop," I whispered. I didn't have the energy to scream. Then I was falling head first down the cavern. It pressed tight against my flesh and, shameful though it was to admit, it felt amazing. I was hard and leaking by the time my cock slid into Joe's mouth. His tongue slipped between my cheeks and prodded at my hole.

Almost as if it were a last breath, I moaned louder than I had in my entire life. It was a plea, though what for I couldn't tell. To cum? To get fucked by future dad? For him to finish eating me?

When my feet passed between his lips, they were covered in the cum of his brother and buddies. I curled up in the tight, warm, slightly smelly embrace of Joe's stomach. He belched, and the sound rattled my brain. I went dizzy.

"Looks like I'm pregnant with you now," Joe said. "Gonna call me dad now that I'm pregnant with you?" Of course he was teasing me. He never refused a chance for that.

"What did you do?" i asked.

"I ate you. And now I'm gonna turn you into a big steaming pile, you piece of shit," he laughed. "You want to be my shit?"

The warmth was starting to sting my skin and the inside of my mouth and nostrils. "I don't want... to be shit, daddy," I pleaded.

"Lesson learned: never turn down daddy."

~~

I woke in a sweat, my dad's thick, hairy arms wrapped around me. We were naked in his bed. We started sleeping like this on my 21st. I drank with him for the first time and started crying about mom's death. He cried too. One thing led to another, and he ended up pounding my ass like a beast.

It was a dream. It was just a dream... but...

"What's wrong?" Dad asked, snuggling into my neck.

"I had a dream you ate me," I said.

Dad pulled me tighter against him. When he whispered, there was a growl. Something hungry. "Did you remember being daddy's shit? Getting flushed down the toilet? How you kept begging me not to digest you? You told me I'd get to fuck you all I want." His cock hardened against my ass. "You know... It might be time for me to put my boy back in his place." His big hand grabbed my cock. "Steal all your youth while you melt away into a big meaty soup in my gut. Maybe next time you'll remember sooner. Beg me to eat you." He licked my ear. "Wanna test it out, baby? No promises I'll let you out."

Despite the pounding of me heart, I nodded. "Yes, daddy."