#and sometimes he thinks getting involved could fuck with that

[wriokitty]

Sukuna is not good at apologizing.

And you? You’re not good at letting go of grudges. The end result is a pretty nasty predicament—you’re mad at him, he’s mad that you’re mad at him, and you’re mad that he’s mad that you’re mad at him. It’s a full circle. The start point and the end point meet and you just don’t know where to begin.

He could always apologize, of course—that would be a lovely start. But he won’t. (He really should, though, you think. It’s his fault).

“Hey,” he says gruffly, “scoot over. ‘S my side.”

You’re taking up the entire bed. A petty, childish, and last resort sort of method to keep him away from you for the night because you don’t think you can handle dealing with him in such close proximity. And of course, you certainly won’t be taking the couch, so that naturally leaves only one option: him.

“Hey. Did’ya hear me?” He scowls, looking at you with deeply creased, deeply furrowed brows and an intense glare that makes you want to throw a pillow at his face. You refrain, however—but only because someone has to be the emotionally intelligent one of the two of you, and it certainly won’t be him. “I said move over—I’m tired as fuck and I wanna sleep.”

“Then sleep,” comes your unhelpful reply.

“They teach you this in the first grade,” he smiles thinly, eyes narrowed into slits as he gives you a sarcastic look, “but you actually have to lay down to sleep. Can’t do that if you hog the entire damn bed.”

“I’m sure they taught you what a couch was in first grade, too,” you counter—and as if to double down on your juvenile, stubborn display of spitefulness, you angle your body to take up more of his side of the bed. “Go ahead and use that if you wanna lay down so bad.”

“And they also teach you in first grade that the couch is bad for your damn fucking back, so move the fuck—”

You cut him off sharply with a rather snobby tone. “That’s not in the first grade curriculum. I don’t know what first grade you went to, but maybe that would explain some of the loose screws in your head.”

He’s had enough. Sukuna is not good at apologizing. And on most days, he’s not that good at being a boyfriend, either. Not by the general standards, anyway. He doesn’t say sweet words or coddle you very much. Sometimes, he’s awkward about affection and doesn’t quite know how to initiate physical touch. And, on most days, he can’t communicate his feelings properly, so they tend to come out wrong. Typically, that manifests in harsh, unintentionally harsh words.

He’s not proud of it, but it’s not a switch he can exactly flip off in one day.

But one thing he is good at, however, is worming his way into your soft spot, anyway. It’s a very peculiar, very distinct part of you that for some unknown reason, opens up for him and puts up with his bullshit regardless of what that bullshit is. Fifty percent soft, sweet affection, and one hundred percent stupid, foolish devotion.

He wouldn’t trade it for the world.

He debates it for a moment—because sometimes even Sukuna doesn’t dare test your limits—before he ultimately decides to go for whatever plan he’s scenting. It turns out his plan involves all two-hundred-something pounds of his bulky, muscled figure draping itself over your body with an exaggerated sigh from him. You flinch, gasping in shock, and he simply gets himself comfortable.

Sukuna is not good at apologizing.

Yet, somehow, he’s even worse at reading the room, evidently. You clearly don’t want him near you, but here he is, arguably closer to you now than he is on the average night.

“Sukuna!” You hiss, trying to push him off as you grumble under his weight, “get off! You asshole, you’re too heavy for—”

“Heavy?” He gasps, “this is considered body negativity.”

“Oh fuck off,” you scowl, “you’re doing this on purpose.”

“Doing what, exactly?” He asks smugly.

Despite it all, there’s something surprisingly gentle about the way he lays on you. His head is perfectly situated to rest against your collarbone, his hands delicately have your hips in their hold, and half of his body is slotted between your legs to keep a good brunt of his weight off of you.

More than anything, he’s a weighted blanket than he is an aggravating boyfriend that you’re trying to avoid.

“Is everything a joke to you?” You glare.

He glares back. Equally as hard, equally as intense, but infinitely more infatuated underneath it all. “No,” he grumbles, “just don’t like goin’ to bed mad. So ‘m here whether you like it or not.”

Some part of you can’t help but soften at that. A small, fractional, tiny amount of you thinks…oh. Oh.

(And yes, there are certainly better ways to express: I would like to go to bed without being mad at each other because I love you too much, but he’s not perfect. Nowhere near it. That much is a known fact quite deeply by now. But you know what he means, and in you’re being honest with yourself…well, it’s enough.

He’s always enough, even when he seems like he shouldn’t be.)

“I’m still mad at you,” you grumble stubbornly.

Your arms wrap around him tightly.

“And I’m still fuckin’ tired and sleepy. What’s your point?”

He tucks his head into the crook of your neck and inhales your scent.

You’re mad at Sukuna. And he’s tired of it. Sometimes, he’s not good at apologizing, and sometimes you’re stubborn about accepting them. In the end, your limbs tangle in bed like this, anyway. You think that’s the only part that really matters.

You sigh, pulling up the blanket to cover yourselves. (Mainly you. He just happens to be there, too, of course. But this isn’t for his warmth, too—it’s just for yours. How cold he is or isn’t through the night is of no concern to you.)

“Night,” he mumbles quietly after some time, “and…and sorry, or whatever. I…well, I just. You know?”

You snort softly, giving in and letting your fingers weave into his soft, familiar strands of hair while he relaxes at the feeling.

“We’ll talk in the morning. I love you.”

He smiles a little into your neck. It’s barely-there, but it undoubtedly exists.

“Love you too.”

“A lot, right?” You ask cheekily.

It’s quiet for a moment. You think he’s going to tell you to shut up, or just go to sleep, already. Instead, there’s a hushed mumble of, “yeah. A lot. Now goodnight.”

(You fall asleep rather quickly after that—and admittedly, much easier than you would have if his body was on the couch and not with you.)

Cliche fights before bed that end with a begrudging petty cuddle sesh are my guilty pleasure. My crack if you will

[xxdedboixx]

~ Selfish (and Jealous) ~

One Piece Captains

How selfish are each of the captains when it comes to your attention? And just how much more selfish they can be when they become jealous.

NSFW for each captain below the red lines.

18+ MDNI

Luffy

Luffy is accidentally very very selfish. It doesn't even really cross his mind that he could possibly be being selfish and if someone brings it up all he thinks to say is "Well I AM a pirate" with a laugh and exaggerated shrug.

He'll just butt into conversations you're having, either running over to show you something cool or just wrapping himself around you in a tight hug to listen in. Maybe he'll even dramatically kiss your cheek just to make you laugh.

When he's intentionally being selfish it's a whole other deal though. He is suddenly one of the most jealous people ever. For example, you might be talking with a captain of another crew or gushing about how strong someone is. As soon as he hears praise for someone else he is right beside you, pouting or otherwise trying to draw your attention. "Hey I'm supposed to be the coolest guy you know" an exaggerated pout is permanently stuck on his face and he's glaring at the other person. If he doesn't manage to draw your attention though he will wrap his arms around you and run off with you (sometimes this is the first step of he's feeling particularly neglected that day).

Jealous of the other captains (Law and Kid mainly)? He will immediately be starting a fight for your affection. You mention one of their attacks is cool? He's immediately showing off the "super secret epic move" he's been "working on" (he probably just made it up completely on the spot). You like their style? He's pouting and grumbling about how his hat is so much cooler.

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When it comes to the bedroom Luffy is yet again accidentally selfish. It's not necessarily a bad things though because the way he is selfish isn't what you may think.

Instead of focusing on his own pleasure he is just so focused on the moment. You have his undivided attention and he is not letting a second go to waste. This also means you need to be focused on him though. Any time he is not touching you is time wasted if you ask him.

He's selfish in terms of not listening to you. Yes how you feel is important but what you say isn't. He is 100% accidentally overstimulating you because he just can't get enough of how you sound.

I also firmly believe that he prefers to focus on you rather than taking care of his own needs. He will only stop touching you when he absolutely can't hold back anymore and even when he is actually fucking you he is still groping you in every way possible.

How about how selfish he would be if someone else was involved? He probably just accidentally ignores them, forgetting they're even there sometimes just because he wants to hear you even more. If he does remember that someone else is there then he's gushing about you and showing off how good he can make you feel. You always have to be the focus of both of their attention, he just won't allow it to be any other way.

Trafalgar Law

Law isn't really selfish but he's not not selfish y'know? He has a good handle on his emotions for the most part so it's rare he actually lets any selfishness or jealousy seep through the calm and smug facade.

He also knows that you wouldn't be dating if you liked anyone else so he doesn't really get jealous.

If he wants your attention then he's probably going to be selfish and immediately ask that you come to his office just to spend time with him, no matter what you're doing. And since he is your captain you have to obey (he likes to pull the captain card a lot). But if he's content just doing his own work then he doesn't really mind letting you do your own thing.

If you're talking to someone else when he wants your attention there's 2 options. Option 1, he calls you into his office, maybe whoever you're talking to even thinks you're in trouble with the way he says your name, but he's actually just tired and needs your attention to refill his battery. Option 2, you're mid conversation and then you're in his room. This is usually much more of a last resort. He might use this method when you are refusing to go to bed or when you're ignoring him for whatever reason.

He knows it's selfish to want you to spend most of your time in his general vicinity but he just can't bring himself to care. You both might like time to yourselves but that doesn't mean you can't have your alone time in the same room.

He doesn't really get jealous when you hang out with other people but he does prefer it if you stay near him, he'll tolerate other people talking to you as long as it remains friendly and if they try to flirt, then you don't flirt back.

When it comes to the other captains (Luffy and Kid) he won't intervene in the dramatic way the others would. He prefers to be more casual, he might just wander over an arm around your waist or shoulder. He isn't one for PDA but sometimes he just has to show off his claim over you. He might even whisper a joke in your ear to irritate the others or make a sly remark about them.

The way he feels when you interact with them could be considered jealousy but he would probably just say that they irritate him and he doesn't want you wasting time on them.

If you mention something cool that the other captains have done, he doesn't do much more than raise an eyebrow at you, maybe it even irritates him but you won't necessarily know until later. If it irritates him enough then... Well check out the NSFW section.

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If you manage to make Law actually jealous then he might just take it out on you in the bedroom. In reference to what I mentioned before. If you talk too highly of the other captains then he is going to tease you endlessly. "Do you think those idiots could make you feel as good as I do?" His fingers might lightly trace over every sensitive place he can think of. "Come on, you talked so highly of them, where's my praise?" He won't let you finish, edging you until you're gasping out apologies. Even then, it's not an apology he's after, it's the satisfaction of knowing that even if they are 'cool', they could never make you feel the way he does.

When you're having sex otherwise he doesn't really seem selfish or jealous. He's actually very giving. Unlike Luffy, he will do whatever you ask him, if you've been good and you ask him nicely enough. He loves it when you beg (I'll probably make another post about this at some point).

I doubt he'd be comfortable with anyone else watching but if it ever did happen then he would be the one completely in control, giving orders. He might be sitting on the other side of the room and instructing them how to treat you, or he might tell them to just watch so he can show off how well he knows you. He's definitely making sure you are the centre of attention.

Eustass Kid

Kid is insanely selfish and very easily made jealous.

He lets his emotions get the better of him so if he's jealous everyone knows (even if he denies it).

He hates when you interact with anyone outside of his crew. Even going as far as making sure you are never sent to go shopping alone. It's not that he doesn't trust you, he just prefers that you have a guard dog to make sure no one even thinks of hurting you or trying to take you away.

If he wants your attention then he is going to yell your name and demand that you accompany him, he'll claim he just needs your help if anyone asks but in reality he just wants you by his side. Like how Killer is never too far away, he just likes to know what's going on and prefers to have you close by.

He wouldn't get jealous of his own crew per se (because he trusts his crew and friends a lot) but if he notices you spend more time with anyone in particular he might become more irritable. If you both have down time and choose to hang out with someone other than him he is probably going to seek you out and hang out with both of you. It won't necessarily improve his mood and he'll probably sit there glaring at you both (after all you chose to spend time with someone other than him) but at least he can spend time with you.

The only person he could never be jealous of is Killer because he trusts him completely and I would even go as far as to say that he shares everything with Killer.

Because he's pretty much always keeping an eye on you, the moment one of the other captains gets too close to you he is by your side, hurling insults and taunting them. "Why are you wasting time talking to these losers?" "Get back to work." Any excuse he can make to keep you away from them. Again, he trusts you but he just gets so jealous. The idea of them wasting even a second of your time irritates him beyond comprehension.

If you insist on talking to the captains or compliment them in any way, he becomes insanely angry. You are not spared from his wrath either. If you compliment them when they aren't around then he's just gonna curse under his breath and probably call you an idiot. If you compliment them to their face then he curses and storms off. "Fine if you like their company so much stay here then!" "Fucking idiot, complimenting this trash." Anyone who witnesses him storm off will immediately jump out of the way and probably avoid him for the rest of the day. Eventually if you confront him about it he'll shout about how he's the only one who deserves your praise. He's selfish so the mere thought of you complimenting someone else fills him with rage, those are his compliments, his attention, you are his.

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When it comes to the bedroom his selfish side really shines through. He's going to make sure you enjoy yourself but he's also a bit of a sadist so if he wants you to beg for it then you are going to beg. I also firmly believe he is the king of degrading praise.

"my pretty little whore" "such a good slut for me huh?"

If you've pissed him off then he is going to leave you there without letting you finish. But other times he is still focused mainly on himself but he will consider how good you're feeling, it boosts his ego to know that even when he is the main focus he can still make you feel just as good.

If you've made him jealous then he's going to show you just how much better he is. He will not stop until you are crying out, whimpering that you didn't mean to make him jealous, that he's the only one you admire and that he's the only one who can make you feel so good.

Kid would also probably be the most likely to involve someone else. Obviously the first person to come to mind is Killer but I don't doubt he would also be ok with sharing with a couple other members of his crew (the other two who immediately come to mind are Wire and Heat). As long as it's both of them dominating you then I think he'd be very very into it. He'd give the others tips and taunt you for getting off to the idea of both of them.

Although he's easily made jealous normally, because he has so much control in the bedroom it takes a lot more to make him jealous.

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If you've made it this far thank you very much and please check out my GoFundMe to raise money for my top surgery. I also take requests but will be more inclined to respond if there is any type of donation attached (even just $1 because everything counts)

[yanderelovebites]

More isekai batsis because I love it so much.

So mine in particular doesn’t go by Y/n to the bat family since it is an isekai but when she’s by herself she will refer to herself as Y/n. Her Isekai name is Illia Birdges-Wayne.

I didn’t go too deep into the details of Damian’s obsession yet, just vague stuff so that’s what this post more or less is.

I’d like to say that Damian has a somewhat emotional-incest connection to her. He will not get physical as he’s been raised better, but there are signs-blatant signs I’ll add, that if they were not half-siblings he’d try. Once it’s obvious to Damian she understands he legitimately cares for her as I do feel Damian could tell her walls were still up, he’d be over the moon in his own lack of enthusiasm way.

When Damian and her start going to school together, it’s definitely more clear as well. Damian deals with her ‘friends’ at first to be close to her. He doesn’t like them and batsis isn’t truly friends with these ‘friends’ either. Their use is to keep her social standing up and Damian can see it.

While in a lot of fanfics Damian would egg the others on, as do they in turn, I don’t think Damian would exactly agree with any academic manipulation. If anything Damian thinks it’s the stupidest thing in the world because he doesn’t see it as just affecting her. As I’ve mentioned, he sees her friends as to keep a social standing. He sees them not as her friends, but pawns. As far as he’s concerned, her pawns are his too. So it legitimately upsets the little dude. I can just see the family trying to fuck with it and Tim back tracks because Damian put a venomous snake in his computer chair. They fuck off when it came to school after that because who wants to fuck with that.

Also this attempt would be without Bruce’s knowledge. He actually shuts Tim and Dick down on these attempts. Also scolds Damian in his perspective but it literally does nothing in regards of convincing him that his sister’s friends aren’t pawns.

He would tell his mom about her too. He won’t shut up, to the point she jokes about it sounding like he’s telling her his crush rather than a sister, but Damian disregards that statement.

If they were older, Damian is the brother who scared off any boyfriends since he’s always with her in public. If she somehow snuck it behind his back yes he’d be upset, but he would take it out on the partner. Now, Damian doesn’t worship her—even if he sometimes comes off like that.

These two would at some point using Arabic, Japanese, Korean, Irish and mandarin would make a code language that no one else in the house understands. At first Bruce thought it was just Arabic so he learns it and realizes it’s not just Arabic. So he figured out some of it is Japanese and mandarin, but can’t figure out what the other two are. It’s also the fact the two learned all of these, of course some they already knew, just so no one else could understand what the hell they were saying.

And just as he doesn’t want anyone dating her, he also gets offended when guys don’t won’t to. It’s even worse if they have an actual reason that doesn’t involve him. How dare they claim you’re too skinny? Too fat? The list could go on.

I can also imagine once Damian and her are comfortable enough, Damian would help “Illia” train in the martial arts she’s taking since Damian would have been trained in them from a far younger age. One day they come to dinner with bruises and gives everyone a panic attack and they’re like “What’s wrong? Damian was helping me train.” Followed by Damian complimenting an improvement but then going straight into what she needs to improve next.

He’s so damn attached. Sure he cares for the rest of the bat family but she has a different place in his life than them. They’re the people who mentor him, they’re the people he fights crime with—she is who he can go to and just be his age for damn once. They can only teach him how to be a Robin, her? She shows him what a Wayne is. There’s a difference whether they’d like to see it or not.

Next person I’ll get into (and how their obsession evolves) is Bruce. This is in order of who gets obsessive first to last btw.

[emmg]

Swapped sugar daddy anon crawling back into ur inbox, (I am continuing to write the beginning of their relationship, and ngl my respect for fic writers has tripled. I have no idea how you do this I feel like a 5 yr old smacking 2 barbies together and yelling kiss) and apologies for how long this is but I’ve been thinking about how everything eventually blows up in their faces and I kinda want it to be a pregnancy scare in her final year? They’ve been seeing each other for a few years now, and they get a little relaxed about things, they’re exclusive and she’s on the pill so they don’t have to worry about it. Until her period is several weeks late so she takes a test just in case and suddenly they really do. And oh god she wants kids, especially Emmrich’s kids, but not right now??? She doesn’t want to have to juggle pregnancy/a baby while writing and defending her thesis. They haven’t even talked about kids yet even if she’s pretty sure he wants them? He hasn’t acknowledged her hints about marriage, is it because he doesn’t want to marry her? She’s so scared about what this means and she needs Emmrich’s support and why is he being so weird and cagey about this? Does he think she’s trying to baby trap him? (She doesn’t know but he wouldn’t mind, he’d probably say thank you)

And Emmrich is in crisis mode. Now, he is a pro choice king so whatever rook wants is what happens, but also oh god he wants this child sooo bad. He’s always wanted kids but he’d kinda given up on it at this point and add in that it’s Rooks baby? a little piece of their love made physical (Don’t think too hard about how she doesn’t really love you Emmrich). An excuse to still see her sometimes, even if it means watching her eventually move on and marry and start a family with someone else. Even if she doesn’t want to be involved he could keep this little part of her (its only for a second, but he thinks he’d give her anything she asked for, he’d pay off her student loans, he’d buy her a fucking house, if she let him have this even if she walks away from it) but she can’t know that. He’d never forgive himself if he pressured her into this no matter how much he wants it. And he realises how completely and utterly fucked he is. Rook is the love of his life but he isn’t hers and there’s no way that this can continue as it is. If she keeps the baby she’ll never really be able to leave him behind, and is he selfish enough to ruin her life like that? He’s already bought the last three years with fancy restaurants and expensive gifts, what can he possibly offer her that’s worth the rest of her life?

I’m still not 100% sure about how it all comes out but I imagine that it's probably a fight, their first big real fight, about how rook feels like Emmrich’s being avoidant and unsupportive and Emmrich is fighting for his life bc internally he’s hanging on by a thread, like why is she treating this like their relationship is actually real? He’s trying to build up some emotional distance bc no matter how this goes he’s kinda fucked and he wants to make sure that he makes it through this at least somewhat emotionally intact. I think rook eventually calls him out on this, saying something about how she thought he was serious about this, about her, how she thought they were gonna get married but how he’s acting is making her rethink that bc it doesn’t seem like he is very serious about her right now. And he says something about how of course he wants to marry her but he wouldn’t put her in that position bc he knows it would be unfair to ask her for that. And rook is like what the actual fuck are you talking about Emmrich? And Emmrich is crying at this point, quietly and very prettily but he is crying. And this is when the misunderstanding comes out, where Emmrich is like “I know you don’t actually love me and I don’t expect you to, but I would appreciate it if we could discuss this situation without pretending that you do.” and this is when rook starts to put the pieces together and is like “wait do u think i'm only with you for your money” and Emmrich’s like “yes? Why else would you be dating me?”

I have absolutely zero ideas on how this is actually resolved but i know that emmrich 100% ugly sobs at some point. And realistically he’s probably still quite insecure about whether or not rook actually does love him but i feel like they work it out eventually and get married and are disgustingly happy together.

Also idk if they keep the baby or not, but they absolutely have at least 1 kid at some point.

BABYYYYYY I am ON MY KNEES begging you to publish this because I have read and re-read it so many times that I’m basically in a parasocial relationship with your asks. At this point, just reading your ideas is activating my primal hunger instincts. I’m starving. I am THIS CLOSE to organizing a fandom-wide intervention where we collectively cyberbully you into dropping this holy manuscript.

The way I flatlined at "pro-choice king"—like, I ascended. I left my body. LMAO

Listen, I am normally violently allergic to the "and they lived happily ever after with 2.5 kids and a suburban mortgage" trope. I break out in hives. I see it, and suddenly the book I loved turns into a mid-tier Hallmark movie where the protagonist goes from slaying demons to clutching her stomach and whispering “oh my god.” Like, girl. GIRL. No. Keep that away from me. Anyway, thanks for attending my TED Talk.

BUT. FUCKING. EMMRICH VOLKARIN. This man was engineered in a lab to be a father. He was born for it. I go absolutely rabid over the idea of him having a daughter. He is so girl-dad-coded that it’s spiritual. Rook so much as mentions her period is late, and this man is weeping.

He’s already drafting a will.

He's calling his lawyer.

He’s distributing his gold bars.

He’s making her his sole life insurance beneficiary.

"And rook is like what the actual fuck are you talking about Emmrich?" — lmfao nah for real. What did you think these last three years were? And Emmrich does that Gob face from Arrested Development, you know the one:

I want him to cry and then I want them to fuck and then I want him to cry while they fuck. That's it, your honor.

[nethhiri]

Knight Tutor

Knight!Zoro x Princess!Reader

I saw that post going around, the one that's like "princess reader that knows nothing of sex and a knight that's all too eager to teach her" or whatever and I can't get the damned thing out of my head. Happy Valentine's!

Warnings: Sex, masturbation

"Oi! I've been lookin for ya."

You jumped at the sound of your personal guard's voice, turning to face him.

"Stop going off on your own." He squinted with suspicion at you. "What are you up to?"

"Nothing," you said too quickly.

Zoro firmly moved you from your spot, looking through the crack in the door that you had been peering into. He spun around, took you by the arm, and swiftly escorted you out of the barn you were in.

"Are you mad? Do you want people to think you're a little pervert?"

You looked at your feet. It was true, you had been watching one of the stable boys and one of the maids have relations, but it wasn't lecherous. You had gone to the barn to be away from the bustling castle. You didn't particularly like being fawned over or waited on every second of the day. You had no time to yourself. So when you heard strange wet, slapping sounds, you took it upon yourself to investigate. Being a princess, it wasn't proper for you to have any knowledge of sex, and certainly not proper for you to be involved in it. And of course, since it was taboo, that made you want to know more about it. What was this thing that was so secret and why were you not allowed to participate?

You shook your arm free from his grip. "I am not a little pervert. I was curious."

"Well, you better stop being so curious, princess, or you're going to ruin your reputation." Zoro patted your head. "You know your father is working very hard to find you a good match."

"Fuck a good m-."

Zoro covered your mouth, cutting you off. "Stop with that language. It's not fitting for a princess."

"You're the one who taught me how to talk like that," you continued when he removed his hand.

"If you were training to be a knight, that would be good and well, but you're not, so behave." Zoro sighed," I signed up to be a guard not a goddamn babysitter."

"No one is making you mind me. You do that of your own accord."

"I only want what's best for you."

"Why?"

Zoro didn't answer you, simply escorted you back to the castle with a tint of pink to his ears.

Later that evening, you sat with your back to the large, extravagant double doors of your chamber, as you had every night since you started your late night chats with Zoro. It became a habit after a few nights of insomnia on your part. You would talk until it was time for him to switch shifts to sleep.

"You there?"

"Always am," Zoro's low voice answered.

The hallway echoed so he had to speak quietly. Sometimes you could barely hear him.

"Sorry about earlier," You said. "I don't mean to be trouble for you."

"We don't need to talk about it." Zoro continued, "And you're never trouble. Truth is, I would get bored if I didn't have you."

Silence took hold after that for a long while. You heard Zoro's voice again.

"Why do you want to know so badly about... sex?"

"I know men like it, and I know I'm supposed to marry a man, so why is it that I can't know about it. Shouldn't I? To please whomever I marry?"

"You would think that." Zoro contemplated for a moment. "If I tell you about it, will you promise not to go peeping anymore?"

"You'll tell me?"

"Who better to hear it from?"

"I suppose... but how do you know?"

"How do I know? About sex?" Zoro laughed. "Do you think I'm a virgin?"

"I thought all men in service to the crown had to be celibate."

"Maybe the men of the church." He laughed again. "The knights are... well, most are the exact opposite of virgins."

"What about you?"

"I've... lain with a few."

"Hm."

"I'm not a man-whore if that's what you're thinking."

"I'm not judging. So get on with it. Tell me."

Zoro explained, in the most polite way he could, how sex worked. He answered all your questions, even the more uncomfortable ones.

"So then what is masturbation?"

Zoro let out a long sigh. "You are going to be the death of me. You know that?"

"May as well impart your wisdom before then, don't you think?"

It was the last question he answered before he had to turn in for the night.

The following day, when you were in your bath, you started thinking of the conversation. Maybe you could try it. It was private enough here. You slid your hand between your thighs, exploring the parts of yourself you hadn't thought to explore before. You found yourself squirming under your own fingertips when you brushed certain spots. Before you knew it, you were panting and trying to stifle your cries of pleasure. You could feel your abdomen grow tight, like something was building.

Suddenly, the door burst open and you screamed. "Princess?! Are you al- OH. SORRY. Sorry sorry sorry." Zoro snapped the door shut as quickly as he had opened it.

You did not come out of your chambers the rest of the day. For the first time, you considered not having your nightly chat with your guard. What were either of you going to say? But it was tradition, so you sat in your spot. Both of you knew the other was on the other side of the door but neither wanted to say anything.

"I'm sorry," Zoro broke the silence first. "I thought you were crying not... you know." He cleared his throat. "So... did you figure it out?"

"I think so. Didn't get to the end I don't think."

"You should try again. I could help... er... not physically I mean." Zoro went on. "Try thinking about something or someone that gives you that fluttering feeling in your stomach."

Did he mean...now? It sort of sounded like it, and you wanted to listen well to him after the trouble you caused. You closed your eyes and try to conjure someone. The only person you had ever thought about kissing was him, and when you thought of it, it did indeed give you a fluttering feeling.

"Then really build up to it. Don't go right to the source. Trail your fingers over your skin, imagine that it's that person you're thinking of."

You did as he said, ghosting your finger tips over your stomach, the tops of your breasts, your inner thighs, your throat. You pushed up your nightie. You imagined it was him.

"Touch yourself over your clothes. Build up anticipation."

Your fingers trailed up your thigh, moving over your clothed center. You could feel it become damp. Pressing your fingers more firmly into your apex, you started to rub. Your breath quickened and your nipples hardened.

"Slide your hand beneath the fabric, tease yourself, then press your fingers inside."

Your hand slipped below the waistband of your panties, you allowed your fingers to play with your bare clit until your pussy clenched around nothing. Then you gave it something to squeeze when you put your middle finger inside its warm, wet walls.

"Move slowly at first. Feel the drag in and out. Then you can change your pace or add another finger. You can use two hands if you want, to stimulate yourself."

You slid your ring finger next to the first, feeling a small sting. You brought your other hand to circle fingers around your clit, turning the slight pain pleasurable after a few seconds.

"Don't forget the rest of your body. You can tilt your hips. You can touch other parts of your body. You can switch hands."

You did what he suggested, grabbing your breasts and rutting your hips into your fingers. You could feel that same build up that you had earlier. You imagined what it would feel like if it was his thick, rough hands on you. You imagined him watching you with desire in his own eyes. You imagined what it would be like to lay with him. The build up continued. Zoro was saying something but you couldn't hear him over your pleasure. With a cry that startled you, your walls clenched your fingers and this flood of tingling heat wracked your body.

"Y/N? Y/N what were you doing? Were you just...?"

You were still a bit dazed from this new high. "What do you mean? I was doing what you were telling me to do. And it w-worked."

"Y/N! I was- I was merely giving you suggestions not instructions." Zoro made an aggravated groan. "Fuck, Princess, you're going to get me in so much trouble."

"I won't tell anyone. No one will know."

"Go to sleep. I should never have indulged you."

The following day, Zoro didn't look you in the eye. The truth was he was tormented all night with the sounds of your masturbation echoing in his head. It filled him with shame to do it, but his cock ached thinking of you, and he had to relieve the pain. Once wasn't enough either. Zoro came several times imaging that he was the one making you cry out like that. Technically, he was. The thought of you doing as he said, touching yourself, was more than he could bear. He feared that if he looked at you, nothing would be able to stop him from pressing his lips onto yours. He would love nothing more than to be your servant in every way, but he knew better. That would never be possible for a knight.

Before you turned in for the night, you confronted him.

"Zoro, why won't you look at me?"

"I can't."

"Is it because... you think less of me now?"

"No! Of course not."

"Then why? Are you ashamed of me?"

"No! Listen... Y/N..."

"Please look at me."

"I won't be able to help myself if I look."

"I don't understand."

"Princess, please. I am begging you to leave it alone. It will be better for both of us."

"Zoro... I love you."

That was enough to make his eyes shift to you, to see if you meant it. One glance at your strawberry colored cheeks, framed by your soft hair, and your half-parted lips, plump with the blood rushing to them, had him weak. He was strong-willed in everything, except when it came to you. The truth was, the last time he'd lain with anyone was years ago. He stopped when he realized they weren't you. Over the many nights he spent talking to you, he found himself falling in love. How many times had he heard your bubbling laugh, muffled behind the door, echo in his dreams?

Zoro didn't need to wrestle with the temptation of kissing you because you made the decision for him. You grabbed his face and pulled it to your own. Your kiss was clumsy, inexperienced. You floundered, yet, as he always did, Zoro stepped in to save you. Zoro held your chin with shaky hands, pressing his lips to yours. They were every bit as soft as he imagined.

"I love you, too." He murmured against your lips. "Always have."

When he came to his senses, he shoved you inside your room and shut the door quickly behind you. For a moment, he was too caught up in the enchantment that was you to worry about someone seeing you together. Zoro stripped his armor off, and you helped him, until he was down to his underclothes. You weren't yet in your nightie. Zoro unlaced your corset and unfastened your skirts faster than you expected, like he had done it before, which you decided not to ponder on. His scarred hands touched your skin like it would tear if he pressed too hard. Zoro hesitated to take off the last layer of your clothing.

"Are you sure, Princess?" More softly, "Y/N?"

You answered by removing his shirt, though he caught your wrist when you went for his pants. Zoro kissed your hand, then traveled up your arm, peppering kisses along the way until he reached your neck. He moved your hair away, desperately wanting to suck at the skin, but painfully aware that if he left a mark, there would be repercussions. Instead he kept it to light kisses, backing you up until the back of your knees touched the bed. He lowered you onto it, but didn't get on himself.

Slowly, he knelt at the foot of your bed, lifting the hem of your slip to reveal skin that only your own eyes had ever seen. It was so supple and silky, a far cry from his own marred and work-hewn skin. Here, on your thighs, he could give in to his wanton desires. Zoro sucked at the skin, leaving red blossoms in a trail to your own petals.

You hadn't been nervous until he had your skirt pushed all the way up to your hips. This wasn't at all like what you had seen in the stables. Every move he made was deliberate, so you could stop him if you wanted. But you didn't. When he put his mouth on your sex, the feeling was so foreign you couldn't focus on how good it felt. That wasn't even the part that you thought was supposed to go there.

Zoro seemed to have noticed your anxiety. "Relax, Princess." He reached one of his hands out to hold yours. "Let me show you." With his other hand, he rubbed your side in a soothing way. "Lay back. I'll take care of you. Like always."

You did as he said, closing your eyes and letting the good feelings take over. It felt even better when someone else was doing it to you. At some point, you had put your hand on Zoro's head, pushing him into you. Your back arched off the bed and he grabbed your thigh to keep you from squirming away. That tightening feeling in your center came back. Just as you were about to reach your peak, he pulled away.

"Damn. You have to be quiet or you'll wake the whole castle."

"Sorry," you panted. When had you become out of breath?

Zoro took this opportunity to climb over you on the bed, kissing you again, this time tasting of you. You pushed yourself back to lay on the pillows and Zoro pushed the rest of your slip over your head. You were laid bare before him and your nipples hardened to the exposure of the cold air. He fixated on them, and in the same way, you fixated on the bulge in his pants. Zoro noticed your gaze, unfastening his bottoms so he was equally as nude. Taking the size of his member into consideration, and how it hurt to have just two fingers inside, you swallowed.

"It's- it's going to fit?"

Zoro laughed. "Yes, it will fit."

"Will it hurt?"

"Yes, it will, but only for a little bit." Zoro kissed you more. "Don't worry. We're going to get you ready first. And we can stop if it hurts too much."

You nodded.

Zoro started with a finger, then another. You felt that tightening feeling with every movement of his hand. With his free hand, he lightly covered your mouth. It was hard to control your sounds when he was making you feeling this good.

"Shh. Be good, my princess. Or I'll have to stop."

You nodded again.

Zoro lifted your own hand and pressed it where his had been. He needed his hands. One to pleasure you and one to pleasure himself. His cock was hard and it throbbed with the thought of sinking into your folds. Zoro added a third finger, making you squeeze your thighs together. It burned and stretched. The pain was almost immediately replaced by pleasure. Again, as your core tightened, close to your release, Zoro pulled his hand away.

"Sorry," he said. "I'll make you cum. But I want to feel you cum around my cock when I make you cum for the first time."

"Technically, it would be the second."

Zoro grinned. "You should know smart-mouthed brats are my favorite... since you are one." He looked at you with anticipation. "Are you ready?"

You nodded, parting your legs for him. "Yes."

Zoro slotted himself between your legs, lining his cock up with the entrance of your cunt. You winced as he pressed into your folds. He watched your face, looking for discomfort so he could adjust accordingly. As he pushed deeper, you had the sensation of being full. It felt right that it was him filling you. It took a few more minutes before he was fully inside. That alone, without any movement, had your core tighter than it had ever been. You felt your cunt pulse around him.

Zoro kissed you long and deep before he began to move. It was to let you adjust to him. It was also to prevent him from finishing too soon. He hadn't had the pleasure of hot, wet cunt in ages and his hand was far less satisfying. He wanted to cum as soon as you started letting those sweet, shy moans out when he was face-first in your pussy. Zoro started moving, gradually hitting a pace that made you cover your own mouth out of fear that you would make too much noise. Your thighs clenched around him as he rutted deeply into you. He bent down to take your nipple into his mouth, grazing it with his teeth. Your back arched and you couldn't stay still underneath him. The sensations building were too much to handle.

You removed your hands to grasp at the sheets beneath. Zoro covered your mouth with his to contain your cries. His own soft moans melded with yours and you were both lost in each other, forgetting about the world around you. If all you had was him, you would be fine with that, and the reverse was true as well. You gripped his hair, pressing your kisses harder into him, feeling the coil wound tight about to snap. Then, an intense wave of pleasure flooded every inch of your body. If not for you kissing, that cry would have certainly woken the castle.

Your cunt spasmed around him, squeezing him, trying to milk him. Zoro nearly forgot to pull out. So badly he wanted his cum to be deep inside you, filling your cunt for the first time. He wanted to watch it leak from between your legs. He wanted it to drip into your panties and make them damp so every time you felt that cool wetness, you thought of fucking him. Zoro came hard, barely making it out of your cunt before ropes of hot cum shot onto your stomach. And if some didn't make it out in time, then so be it. Watching you round with his baby would make him happy, even if you were wed to another.

Zoro rolled off you and sighed deeply. "Fuck, Princess. You really are going to get me in trouble."

"I'll visit you at the gallows."

Zoro scoffed, then smiled. "Smartass."

Zoro helped you clean up and put your nightie on. He put his own clothes on and kissed you goodnight, reluctant to go. He would give anything to lay next to you and hold you close, but it could never be. And this probably couldn't happen again either, though he was grateful for the memory.

Except it did happen again. Many more times. Many more positions. All for educational purposes, of course. Pillow talk consisted of plans to start a life somewhere else, hypothetically, of course. But as feelings grew and became deeply tangled, it became less hypothetical, until it was real. Which was why you were waiting patiently in the dead of night, in the stables, with a horse packed and ready to go.

"Oi, you here?" The voice of your knight whispered.

"Always am," you answered.

[url-is-url]

I'm in a mood to write meta/ramble about my opinions so here's why I think DPxDC fics that put Johnstantine in a paternal/uncle/mentor role are fine actually.

"But John is canonically a godawful father with little to no interest in parenthood" yes, that's why it's funny to throw teenagers at him. He is imminently tormentable. "Bad things happening to John Constantine" is approximately 72% of plots in Hellblazer. Also, Dadantine fics tend to be ones where Danny's parents react violently to him being a ghost and Vlad’s canonical villain motivation is that he wants to be Danny’s dad. The fact that Constantine is a) not his dad and b) has no interest in being his dad immediately makes him a relatively safe adult. Also, subjecting a noir horror protagonist to cartoon teen shenanigans is funny simply by virtue of the contrast. Juxtaposition is hilarious and I primarily read and write fanfic for my own amusement.

"Okay, bad things happening to Johnstantine is 72% Hellblazer plots, but he brings most of that upon himself and the other 28% of Hellblazer plots involve nice or neutral things happening that he proceeds to irretrievably fuck up" yes and after 40-odd years of this I am BORED. A constant never-ending tragedy train gets boring. Also I like Johnstantine, if he wasn't a likable scumbag he wouldn't be such a compelling character. Maybe I want him to have nice things sometimes! Also, by virtue of cartoon protagonist plot armor, if anybody could survive being in John's "I Kill Everything Good In My Life" radius it would be Danny Phantom.

I'm not saying you have to like Dadantine dpxdc fics, I'm just saying that they can be done in a way that makes sense for John's character. I personally feel that those are the ones where they tame each other like feral cats and they both think the other one is the feral cat.

[zepskies]

Sid and Nancy are back, y'all! *rubs hands together* Let's get into it, because my heart was broken and hanging on the edge of a cliff after Video Games. 😭

First, I've gotta say how pretty the color scheme and art is for this fic, Wayne. So delicate and lovely. 👌🏽🩷🩵

The crystalline water of the small lake is peaceful, a calm Ben appreciates as he sits on the dock, his bow legs hanging down and feet almost touching the perfectly still surface.

And already I love the opening of this -- so cinematic. Beautiful description.~

“Divorce.” Remembering the word brings forth another surge of paralyzing anger.

Aaaand thank you for reminding me why my heart has been broken. 😭😭 lmao Clearly Ben isn't taking this well (nor should he, tbf). It really got me when he said that she was his best friend -- his only friend as well as his love. I get that he feels betrayed, but though he's come a long way, he still hasn't matured enough not to lash out at her over the phone. 🙄

Mrs. Brooks – a fine, older widow in her 70s – and asked her to keep an eye on the kid while he went to the local watering hole. She was the kid’s usual babysitter and very fond of both him and the little slugger. She was also constantly flirting with him. It was only too bad Ben couldn’t get her pregnant…

*askasdnawjf* omfg, BEN. 💀💀💀

“Dad, look! I got it on by myself,” his six-year-old announces and holds up both hook and worm with a proud and wide grin to show him. Ben forces a smile to his lips. “Good job, buddy.”

Awwww Benny. 🥹 This kid's probably the only reason Ben's holding it together. I loved Ben's internal monologue of how he's trying to do better for his son, but also feels guilty for even saying in anger that he's not his real son. 😭 I truly hope the kid never actually hears about that later. Idk if my heart could take it! 😂

He fails more often than not.

Oh the joys of parenting lol, let alone single parenting.

Ben’s keeping it for emergencies, though. In case he needs to protect her – or his family, his kid. In case that Neuman cunt turns on her because he surely doesn’t trust that booger-brain bitch. He keeps it in case he feels weak. He also keeps a vial of the cure in case she changes her mind and takes it after all. But sometimes he’s scared to ask or push too hard because it very likely would kill her, and he couldn’t fucking live with that.

Oooh this makes so much sense that he would keep a vial of V for emergencies. Like as much as we don't want that for him at this point, the danger of this world and how it views Ben might push him to do something drastic to save his family.

She knows Ben’s a big man-child, though. Rehab didn’t entirely fix that.

lol at least she knows him well. 😅 She knows he didn't mean the shit he said, even if it did cut her down to the bone.

I also loved her whole monologue on why she resigned and came back to him and the kid. It's such a difficult situation, but the way they reunited gave me such warm feels. 🥹 (knitting back my heart together one truth confession at a time! 💗💗)

Ben frowns slightly at her words but tries not to take too much offense. His wife is here, and that’s all that counts. But: Fuck that cock-juggling thunder cunt…

omfg 💀💀💀 there's no cure for this with him, is there? 🤣🤣

“Look, I don’t mean any offense by it. The guy’s… alright,” Ben says and clearly struggles to get the words out. “His plays are good. I even think he can get the team to state this year.” “Wow, high praise,” she comments and hides an amused smile behind her coffee mug.

loll baby steps. 😅

Their little breakfast together as a family was so wholesome and lovely (despite Ben's mouth lol)!

“Still want ten kids?” she teases. His brow raises comically at her words, making her giggle. “Maybe three are enough,” he admits. Before, he never thought kids could be that much work. He also thought he wouldn’t be as involved in… well, raising them. “Or two. Maybe just one more…” She laughs, throwing her head back. “Yeah, two sounds nice.”

LOL yeeeah, kids are hard work, Ben. Now he sees for himself. 🤣🤣

Ben can’t lie and say he isn’t a little nervous, too, rubbing his palms along his thick thighs in anticipation. She’s stronger than him now, which makes his heart flutter slightly. He feels a bit like he’s playing with matches, trying to set himself on fire. Was this how his human lovers always felt when he was still Soldier Boy? Little scary…

I never thought of it this way, but that's such an interesting (and delicious) power imbalance with SB that you would never see coming in a fic. Such good storytelling. 👌🏽

His smile fades, though, once he’s out of view. He knows better than anyone Y/N shouldn’t be feeling sick. She’s a supe, so he knows something is off – and it’s more than nerves and exhaustion. And then, fear sets in.

Oh GODDDD. Are you pulling in the Gen V virus?!

I have to wonder if Neuman in on it and that's why she sent our girl home. Or maybe someone else is targetting her, or she caught the virus somehow by accident? Oh good lord. 😰 Ben's REALLY gonna need to step it up if he's going to save her (and himself really).

You really know how to start things off with a bang, my friend!! lol Can't wait to see what Part 2 has in store. 💕

Lover – Part 1

Series Summary: Free from his past, Ben’s trying to move on and find a little drop of happiness in this new world. But when he finally holds everything he ever wanted in his hands, it threatens to slip through the cracks, and he has to fight one final time with everything he’s got to keep it.

🫡 Catch up here! Sequel to Rehab & Video Games.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female!Reader

Warnings: 18+ due to language & mature themes, established relationship, Soldier Boy x wife!reader, angst, discussions of divorce, Dad!Soldier Boy, human!Soldier Boy, SB trying to be an ally (trust me it's a warning lol), fluff, (the beginnings of) smut

Word Count: 4.6k

A/N: Sid and Nancy are back to finally get their happy end for Valentine's 💕 The road might be a little bumpy until then, but we'll get there 😉

Disclaimer: This is a sequel story. The reader and Soldier Boy met at a rehab facility in 2025 after both being cured of Compound V. Reader became a supe again at the end of the series and is still currently a supe with acidic powers. Seriously guys, catch up with the links above. I can't explain everything... 😝

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist || Tag List

Part 1: Lovelorn

The crystalline water of the small lake is peaceful, a calm Ben appreciates as he sits on the dock, his bow legs hanging down and feet almost touching the perfectly still surface. But underneath the serenity roars a thundering storm, his mind reeling like the fishing pole in his grasp without an end in sight.

“Fuck that! Fuck all of that shit, Y/N! I fucking love you. I’m sick and tired of those games. How many fucking times do I have to tell you that I miss you, huh? I don’t wanna do this anymore. I don’t wanna call you and hope you have time to pick up. I don’t wanna text you and wait hours for a fucking answer. I don’t wanna fuck you through a dumbass screen. I miss you. I miss my wife. I miss actual goddamn sex, for fuck’s sake!”

“I know. I miss all of that, too. Maybe it’s time. Maybe we should finally talk about it.”

“Talk about what?”

“Divorce.”

Remembering the word brings forth another surge of paralyzing anger. His jaw clenches, the grip around the pole tightening. He’s sure even the fish can feel his fury since they refuse to bite this evening. A flicker of sunlight that reflects on the water’s surface then hits his green eyes, flashes of the haunting night flowing freely into his mind.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now? You wanna fucking divorce me?!”

“Ben, just listen–“

“No, you fucking listen! You’re my fucking wife, and you’re not fucking leaving me! You understand? Till death do us part, sweetheart, and I fucking mean it.”

Ben’s heart twinges at the memory. He recalls how she startled at his threat, not knowing he regretted those words as soon as he said them. He remembers how her breath halted, how her hands jittered, and how the tears brimmed in her eyes.

“Ben, I just want you to be happy. You’re supposed to have a family. Everything you ever wanted…”

“So were you. You’re supposed to be fucking here. With me. And the kid. We’re supposed to do this fucking thing together. Remember?”

“But I can’t!”

“Can’t or don’t fucking want to, huh?”

“Ben, I don’t wanna keep you trapped. This way, you can find someone new. Someone who can give you want you want.”

“You don’t fucking get it, do you? No one can give me want I fucking want but you. I wanna fucking be with you!”

“Ben…”

“No, you know what? You wanna fucking leave me like all the others, go fucking right ahead!”

“Ben–“

“You want me to fuck someone else so badly? Be fucking happy? Fucking fine! Consider your wish granted, wifey. Guess, I’m going out tonight and fuck some other slut. Who knows, maybe I’ll fucking knock her up, too! Get a real fucking kid…”

“Ben!”

“Fuck you, my love!”

Ben doesn’t even remember if he hung up before he flung the phone against wall. All he knows is that he had to get a new one the next morning.

And moreover, he did go out that very same night. He called the neighbor, Mrs. Brooks – a fine, older widow in her 70s – and asked her to keep an eye on the kid while he went to the local watering hole. She was the kid’s usual babysitter and very fond of both him and the little slugger. She was also constantly flirting with him. It was only too bad Ben couldn’t get her pregnant…

At the bar, he then met Cynthia – a petite redhead with a huge rack, a perfectly shaped ass, and ideal child-bearing hips in a tight, glittery, emerald dress. It shone like a neon sign.

He bought her three drinks, and she constantly touched his arm as he whispered dirty things into her ear. He could’ve easily persuaded her to come to the dingy pub’s bathroom with him, where he’d rail her from behind till she saw fucking stars and was dripping his cum. But the scrape of her nails against his skin caused him to shudder over and over again – not in the good way – and he cursed himself for fucking missing his wife. He also remembered how shitty he'd felt the last time he had executed similar revenge plans…

This wouldn’t do, so he ditched the floozy there on the spot and returned to an empty house, angrier and more frustrated than before.

Ben fucking hates everything and everyone.

“Dad, look! I got it on by myself,” his six-year-old announces and holds up both hook and worm with a proud and wide grin to show him.

Ben forces a smile to his lips. “Good job, buddy.”

He tries his best to hide his envenomed mood from his son. He recalls how he always hated it when his own father took his personal shit out on him. Ben vows to do better, although the focus should really be on the term trying.

He fails more often than not.

Another regret of that night trickles into his mind then, one that haunts and tortures him more than the other hateful things he’s spewed.

“Who knows, maybe I’ll fucking knock her up, too! Get a real fucking kid…”

Sure, in the beginning, Ben thought he’d never really view the kid as his own flesh and blood, but he would’ve gone along with it for her. Y/N once called them a family of misfits – forgotten and lost souls cast out by the rest of society. But they’d always have each other and that was what counted.

Where the fuck is she now, though?

When she didn’t come with them to start their new life, Ben pretty much wrote the whole ‘found family’ bullshit off as a lost cause. He’d never get along with the kid, he was constantly frustrated by the little rascal’s shenanigans and outbursts, all the while his long-distance wife urged him to be patient over a fucking phone.

Ben’s felt fucking alone most days.

However, with a firm hand, a level head, and some old-school discipline, Ben’s managed the impossible and set the kid on the right track. Now, little Ben’s staying out of playground trouble, being nice to his teachers, and getting straight-As.

Alright, fine…

Out of sheer boredom and not because he was desperate, Ben might have read those stupid parenting books Y/N got him for Christmas: The Gentle Parenting Book, Raising an Emotionally Intelligent Child, and Parenting from the Inside Out.

Bunch of sissy bullshit if you ask Ben. He wanted a fucking Rolex under the tree and not coded messages wrapped in nice paper. And moreover, he’ll never admit that hogwash has actually helped, even if the Russians take him and torture him for another forty years.

It’s been a fucking struggle, but the boy’s grown on him. And in all honesty, the kid probably resembles him more than the firstborn who shares his bloodline. Sometimes, Ben even (quietly) thinks it’s a fucking good thing the kid doesn’t have an ounce of his DNA.

So, now they go camping and fishing together. They go to the bowling alley, the arcade, and to local high school football games. Ben tries to teach the boy what he knows (to the best of his abilities). And a few weeks ago, the kid suddenly started to call him the D-word. Y/N, on the other hand, has received the M-word pretty instantly – and she’s a fucking great mother, even from afar.

And at first, Ben surely considered it fucking weird since the kid isn’t really his, but, well, the word’s grown on him as much as the boy himself.

Ben still feels fucking guilty for even merely suggesting he wasn’t his real son – because he is, and he hopes the kid never finds out he ever uttered those words in the first place.

The former supe sighs internally. What has she fucking done to him? He wouldn’t mind the change as much if he got to keep the reward…

His mind flickers with a glimmer of an idea when the fading sunlight hits the shimmering veil again. The solution to everything, one little blue vial, is hidden right underneath the wooden floorboards of his bedroom. He’s thought about it a lot.

He could be with her. She wouldn’t have to be scared to hurt him. He could be someone again. Nothing could break him anymore.

Sometimes, that shit was harder to quit than fucking drugs. No wonder they needed a whole-ass rehab for it.

Ben’s keeping it for emergencies, though. In case he needs to protect her – or his family, his kid. In case that Neuman cunt turns on her because he surely doesn’t trust that booger-brain bitch. He keeps it in case he feels weak.

He also keeps a vial of the cure in case she changes her mind and takes it after all. But sometimes he’s scared to ask or push too hard because it very likely would kill her, and he couldn’t fucking live with that.

Because of what? Because he’s being a whiny pussy who wants to risk his wife’s life over a fucking kiss? A fuck?

It sounds insane. He doesn’t want this.

She’s more than his wife, too. She’s his fucking best friend and the only one he’s ever had. Maybe that’s why it hurts so fucking much. How could she even think for a second he’d rather fucking leave and do this with some fucking stranger?

Doesn’t she believe he’s changed? Not even her? Who else is there, then?

“Dad?” His son blinks at him with that look he can’t say no to. Why the fuck are children always doing that? “Can we order pizza? I don’t think the fish are biting.”

“I think you’re right. And hey, I can always go for pizza. Great idea, buddy,” Ben says and can see the kid brighten up at his words. He’d always wanted his father to call him “buddy” or “slugger” – or something other than a fucking disappointment.

What about the kid? pops into his mind. If he takes Compound V again, what happens to his son? What if he becomes one of the monsters Ben’s trying to protect him from? He knows all too well how that shit fucked with his mind the first time around. It’s not as easy.

“Hey.”

Ben’s heart stills like the water in front of him as the soft melody of her voice reaches his ears. He presses his eyes shut as the kid ditches his fishing pole on the dock and dives straight into her waiting arms.

“Mommy!”

“Hey, buddy, I missed you.” She smiles and tousles his hair, but her eyes drift to the far end of the dock where her husband still sits and doesn’t bother to even face her. “I got a surprise for you inside in the kitchen, Benny. You wanna go run ahead and check it out? Your dad and I will join you soon.”

“Cool! Awesome! See ya!”

Their son bolts so fast toward the house, Y/N’s surprised he doesn’t stumble in the grass once. She then lets out a sigh when her attention turns back to her sulking husband.

“You’re gonna acknowledge me at all or just ignore me for the rest of your life?” she prompts, a bit of venom on her tongue.

Yes, she knows her words hurt him, even though they were said with the best intentions. She knows she’s failing as a wife and mother. She knows they both deserve better. She just wanted him to have the option.

However, she can’t say his words haven’t hurt her, too. And it hurt even more when he ignored her for two weeks straight, kept her from their son, and never returned any of her calls or messages.

She knows Ben’s a big man-child, though. Rehab didn’t entirely fix that.

“Not sure yet,” he finally answers but still doesn’t even gift her a glance over his broad and brooding shoulder.

“Oh, it speaks.” She can’t help the bits of sarcasm but is aware she has to tread carefully now. “You’ve been ignoring me for two weeks.”

“Don’t have much to fucking say to you…” Ben grabs a bottle of beer from the cooler next to him, twists it open, and occupies his mouth with a gulp before he says something else he regrets. “‘Sides, my phone broke. Got a new one.”

“Something you usually tell your wife,” she mutters bitterly under her breath.

“Yeah, but not you’re fucking ex-wife,” he retorts.

“We’re still married.”

“Does it fucking matter?” Ben counters and takes another sip.

“I hope it does,” she mumbles and sighs once more, pocketing her hands in her jacket. It’s gotten cold outside – much like their marriage. “Guess that means you haven’t seen my press conference this morning?”

“Nope. Don’t fucking care,” Ben scoffs. He sounds more than a little bitter before his raspy voice ramps up with pettiness. “Already got a new piece of ass. Better fuck than you ever were. Sorry, doll.”

Y/N purses her lips, her head bobbing when he throws the dagger that aims for her heart. He could’ve still been Soldier Boy, and she would’ve believed him. And somehow, she isn’t surprised by his reaction, which really is the sad part. Her heart floods with hurt; her mind berates him and calls him every goddamn name in the book she’s ever learned from him.

Broken promises – that is the theme of their marriage.

Instead of pouring oil into the fire, however, she decides to stay calm. They’ve been through so much together. She’s already forgiven him once, she can do it again.

No one’s perfect. Not her. Not him. Especially him.

“I resigned this morning.”

Yup. Ben feels immediate regret for the lie he’s told.

He’s so stumped by her words, his head finally twists over his shoulder with wide eyes and a raised brow. Their gazes meet for the first time, and Ben is reminded why he had avoided eye contact.

She is breathtakingly beautiful.

“Look, uhm… I know this is my fault,” she starts and swallows thickly. Her eyes are so focused on the tips of her boots, she doesn’t even notice he has gotten up from his spot and is strolling closer to her. “I shouldn’t have said it. Not over the phone, not like this. I don’t wanna divorce you, okay? I don’t wanna fucking leave you. I love you, even when you drive me nuts, which you do quite a lot… But the point is – I want this with you. I’ve always wanted this with you… I’ve been working really hard to control my powers and doing meditations, and Vicky even got me a trainer… I want this to work, ok–“

She’s cut off by his lips on hers. His massive hands cup her entire face and hold her so close to him, she’s not sure they’re not melting into one person altogether. He kisses her so deeply as if he hasn’t done it in ages, which he hasn’t.

And sure, surprising her is probably not the smartest idea, considering she could accidentally kill him. But he’s always lived for a good adrenaline rush.

“Ben!” she gasps, eyes wide. But she doesn’t pull away like she usually does. She even keeps her palms placed on his beating heart. She giggles a little at his eagerness and is positively baffled by his reaction. It patches the wounds on her heart a bit.

“I fucking lied, okay? It’s not true. I didn’t-… There’s no one else, alright?” he assures her quickly, thumb brushing her glowing cheeks. “You believe me?”

He’s almost nervous that she won’t. He can’t even blame her, considering his track record. But to his relief, her lips rise to a soft smile.

“I do,” she replies, causing his heart to downright soar. “Don’t ask me why, because I have no fucking idea, but I do.”

Ben smacks his lips. There’s more weighing on his crumpled, old, and heavy heart. “Look, I’m sorry for what I said that night too, alright? I would never hurt you, I swear.”

She nods in his hands. “I know. Don’t worry, okay? Sometimes we say things we don’t mean. Doesn’t make them true. You know I’m kinda the queen of that,” she says and offers him a wry smile.

Ben then pulls her to his lips and kisses her – feverishly and fervently. This time, he even dares to slip his tongue inside her mouth, his hands graciously exploring her curves that mold perfectly to his frame. When he generously palms and squeezes her buttcheeks, she breaks from the kiss with a laugh.

“Slow down, Casanova,” she says, giggling, her cheeks blushing and hurting furiously. “Take it easy on me, alright? Baby steps.”

“Not even a little sorry.” He chuckles quite cheekily and reluctantly lets her go but stays close. “So, you quit? What about the deal? What did the bitch say?”

“Well, good things happen when you’re nice to people and actually make friends,” she says with a mischievous smile that’s supposed to hide the lecture. But Ben knows there’s one somewhere in there. “Vicky just wants me to be happy, so she reluctantly let me go because I’m still an awesome Chief of Staff. And granted, she doesn’t necessarily understand why my happiness includes you, but she’s a great friend, so…”

Ben frowns slightly at her words but tries not to take too much offense. His wife is here, and that’s all that counts. But: Fuck that cock-juggling thunder cunt…

“You’re staying? For good now?” he checks, not trusting the peace entirely. When could he ever?

“I’m staying for good,” she confirms, smiling brightly. “Unless you don’t want me t–“

“Oh, shut the fuck up!” He kisses her faster than her mouth can move, hot and rough. As he slowly draws back, his nose brushes hers, and he looks deeply into her eyes. “I’m gonna show you how much I want you tonight.”

“Ben, I told you – baby steps,” she reminds him gently but still giggles when he continues to tease her, beard tickling the spot behind her ear.

“I promise I steer clear of the home runs, but I will make it to third base, my love,” he all but swears and places a wet kiss on her forehead. “Now, let’s get inside before the kid burns the house down…”

Y/N laughs as she takes his hand, sauntering back to their home together as the sun sets behind them.

“Mom, you wanna come to a football game with us tonight?” her son asks as he eagerly shuffles his breakfast into his mouth.

The boy hasn’t left her side since she’s come home last night, even sneaking into their bed to cuddle with her – a little to Ben’s chagrin. But after a few scolding looks from his wife, he relented to sharing the attention.

She swears she has two children sometimes…

“Yeah, I’d love to,” she agrees with a wide smile. Little things like that are all she’s ever wanted.

Ben can tell she’s moved because there are tears stinging her eyes again. He thinks they might be a permanent addition at this point, considering they haven’t disappeared since she came home.

“Just a heads up, though, the football coach is a twink,” Ben informs her and actually believes it’s helpful.

Y/N furrows her brow and tilts her head. “Ben, what–“

“Look, I don’t mean any offense by it. The guy’s… alright,” Ben says and clearly struggles to get the words out. “His plays are good. I even think he can get the team to state this year.”

“Wow, high praise,” she comments and hides an amused smile behind her coffee mug. It might not seem like much, but it’s the most acceptance he’s ever shown someone from the LGBTQ community.

“Oh, yeah, I’m a full ally now.” He grins broadly. “Even the lesbians said so.”

“What lesbians?”

“Alec’s parents,” he replies as if it’s obvious, referring to their son’s best friend in school.

“You never said they were lesbians,” she points out, the wrinkles on her brow deepening.

“Sure, I did.”

“No, you said Alec’s parents were a ‘hot blonde’ and some ‘burly dude.’”

“Yeah.” He shrugs simply. “And the burly dude turned out to be a woman. Took me a while to realize, though. Was hard to find boobs under that flannel…”

“Alright, and I think that is enough grown-up talk around the kid for now,” she says, shaking her head in amusement.

“I don’t mind,” Benny quips from his chair and grins slyly at his parents.

“Uh-huh, keep eating your breakfast,” she says and ruffles his hair as she gets up from her seat by the island next to him.

They spend the whole day together, taking Benny to the batting cage at the park and the food court at the mall before attending a high school football game. As they return home late that night, the kid is so exhausted he falls right into his bed and passes out, and Ben hopes to God he goddamn stays there for the rest of the night.

He has great plans for his wife tonight.

“Alone at last,” Y/N says as she slings her arms around his neck and kisses him deeply as she sways in his embrace in the living room, his large hands resting perfeclty on her hips.

“You can say that again,” Ben huffs, but there’s amusement in his voice.

“Still want ten kids?” she teases. His brow raises comically at her words, making her giggle.

“Maybe three are enough,” he admits. Before, he never thought kids could be that much work. He also thought he wouldn’t be as involved in… well, raising them. “Or two. Maybe just one more…”

She laughs, throwing her head back. “Yeah, two sounds nice.”

“Wanna get working on one right now?” Ben suggests with his best flirty smile and a wag of his brows but can quickly see her reluctance and cups her cheeks, lifting her gaze to him. “We’ll go as slow as you need to, alright? But I believe in you. I know you got this shit under control.”

For a heartbeat, she licks her lips in contemplation, and Ben already thinks it’s a lost cause, but then she actually nods.

“Okay,” she agrees and stretches on tiptoes to tentatively catch his upper lip between her soft, plush pillows. Her fingers crawl up his jaw, card through his beard. “But you’re gonna have to let me be in control if you don’t want me to kill you.”

Ben only entertains it with a cheeky smile. “Well, might be fun for a change,” he says and lifts her back to his lips with a finger under her chin.

He takes her hand and leads her to the bedroom. He only turns on the small lamp by his bedside before his ravening eyes turn their full attention back to her. He marvels at her beauty in the soft, warm glow for a moment before lifting the t-shirt over her head and tossing it aside.

He kisses down the column of her throat, teeth biting skin and soothing it with his tongue as he works his way inside her bra. A hunger is spreading inside of him at her taste, her smell, her noises. He tries to tame it as best as he can on her behalf, but it’s fucking hard. He’s fucking hard.

She hums, moans the further he travels, the rougher he gets as he devours every free inch of her body. He tests the waters, sees where he can bite. Her skin is more durable now. Ben still remembers the feeling – the numbness.

Her fingers jitter nervously as they fumble with his belt buckle and zipper. Ben thinks it’s cute. He’s never seen her like this before. He’s almost sad he doesn’t have super-hearing anymore to listen to the wild beats of her heart.

But he wouldn’t trade what he’s feeling right now for the world. He has almost forgotten what it all felt like before the blue poison made him so indifferent and callous. He never thought he’d wish her to be human. And not out of petty, jealousy, or selfishness – out of love.

Ben wants her to feel exactly what he feels and knows she fucking can’t right now.

The rest of their clothes land in a pile on the floor as they peel off each item, carefully working their way to bare skin. Ben’s fingers almost twitch from holding back – he’d love to tear and rip it all off. Baby steps.

When she’s left only in a pair of delicate lace panties, she gently pushes against his chest, forcing him to sit down on the edge of the bed.

Ben can’t lie and say he isn’t a little nervous, too, rubbing his palms along his thick thighs in anticipation. She’s stronger than him now, which makes his heart flutter slightly. He feels a bit like he’s playing with matches, trying to set himself on fire.

Was this how his human lovers always felt when he was still Soldier Boy?

Little scary…

She straddles his thighs and takes a seat in his lap, teeth biting her bottom lip back and hiding half of the smile that graces her lips. Her hips rock against the achingly straining bulge in his boxers.

Ben’s been as hard as tungsten since she’s kissed him last night. Forty years imprisonment haven’t cost him this much restraint as one year without touching his wife, who was practically right underneath his nose the whole time. He figures it was the sheer temptation that constantly triggered his need for her. The Russians never were that fucking pretty.

She sucks the skin on his throat purple and blue and leaves bite marks behind. Ben knows she loves staking her claim on him, and he always enjoys inspecting her little art projects in the mornings. He’s gladly hers as much as she is his.

His massive hands wander her curves, squeeze taut flesh and perfectly frame her perky tits. Her skin feels smooth and soft and warm, hot even. Too hot…

“You’re hot,” he murmurs breathlessly against her lips.

She doesn’t understand what he means and smiles, although her brow furrows slightly as if she found the question at least a little odd. He was usually more direct, more racy. “Thank you. So are you?”

She tries to kiss him again, but he pulls back, his hands grabbing her upper arms and holding her at a distant as he inspects her closely. His brow knits deeper and deeper as he cups her scorching cheeks before his palm slides to her forehead.

“No…” He shakes his head, worry stirring his blood. His heartbeat accelerates, but not for the purpose he expected it to. “You’re burning up.”

As Ben looks closer at her face, he sees how pale she is, how hazy her eyes are. He worries more.

“I do feel a little warm, I guess,” she admits and then forces a weak smile. He could’ve almost mistaken it for lust. “But I’m fine, okay? Probably just nerves.”

Ben would love nothing more than to believe that, but he can’t. Something’s wrong. But it’s his job as her husband to not make her worry and take care of her.

“How about we postpone this to tomorrow, huh, my love?” Ben suggests and gently cards his hands through her hair.

“You sure?” She is surprised, considering how adamant and persistent he’s been to get her here. But she honestly feels too exhausted to argue for long.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” he says and lovingly pecks her temple. “Just get some rest, okay? It’s been a lot for you those past two days.”

Ben helps her gently into bed, ensures the blanket covers her thoroughly, and places a goodnight kiss to her hairline. She’s fast asleep by the time he leaves the bedroom.

His smile fades, though, once he’s out of view. He knows better than anyone Y/N shouldn’t be feeling sick. She’s a supe, so he knows something is off – and it’s more than nerves and exhaustion.

And then, fear sets in.

Part 2: Lovesick – TOMORROW 💕

*coughs a little angst* We might have a teeny-tiny virus going around... 👀

What did you guys think of this part? Did you expect him to postpone sexy times? Someone finally give that man his fucking Rolex for those heroics 😂🫶

🩵 Tag List☕️ Ko-Fi💭 Talk Dirty to Me

TAGS:

Forevers: @alwaystiredandconfused @lyarr24 @supernotnatural2005 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey

@deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies

@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28

@mxltifxnd0m @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33 @onlyangel-444

@syrma-sensei @perpetualabsurdity @deans-baby-momma @yoobusgoobus @jessjad

@hunter-or-the-hunted @k-slla @just-levyy @mrsjenniferwinchester @illicithallways

@muhahaha303 @ultimatecin73 @nancymcl @leigh70 @brightlilith

@nesnejwritings @samslvrgirl @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @fromcaintodean @barewithme02

@thebiggerbear @star-yawnznn @thej2report @misatxox @spnaquakindgdom

@americanvenom13 @lamentationsofalonelypotato

Soldier Boy: @deans-baby-momma @snowayumi

Rehab Series: @nancymcl @sparkydonugh

[edwinisms]

I know how it sounds at first, but I really gotta feel bad for the boys that sacrificed edwin; I mean even the term “sacrificed edwin” paints them in a more sinister light than they really deserve– considering that wasn’t really, actually their intention.

they were bullies, they were homophobic (and/or were self loathing gay boys themselves taking it out on edwin, or were equally likely peer pressured into acting a certain way), they planned something stupid and mean to do to an innocent, anxious boy with the goal of scaring the shit out of him, all because he was effeminate and an easy target. but they didn’t know or expect any of the ritual stuff to be real. they were all laughing and joking during the ritual because it was just that to them– a joke. a cruel joke, but a joke.

teenagers can be mean and stupid and they usually regret it as adults and grow out of it / grow from it. they were stifled the chance to grow out of it, at least while alive. none of those boys deserved to be instakilled and sent to hell; they’re really not that much less deserving than edwin himself. they were all just kids, after all.

[invinciblerodent]

and another very small, very minor entry on the list of Things I'm Getting Just a Tiny Little Bit Miffy About Seeing Repeated (Not Angry Just Ever So Slightly Annoyed)TM:

dnd elves do, in fact, mature at the same rate humans do. they're not "like children" or "not considered full adults" until they hit 100- not to anyone other than other, older elves.

like I get where the thought comes from, I fully understand it, I've read many of the source materials myself, I've read Mordenkainen's and see where the misunderstanding comes from, but... to a human, or a tiefling, or anyone else shorter-lived than an elf, a 50-, 60-, 90-year-old elf is just like a 50-, 60-, 90-year-old of their own race would be. they just look much younger than their age, and act in accordance with their personality, which is.... much less tied to someone's age than many may think. (I mean, have you never met a 50-year-old who seems just staggeringly immature? a 20-year-old who is wiser than their years would allow? have you never been to a retail establishment???????)

it's only the other elves who view a younger one as emotionally immature, and that's mainly because they have yet to bury their first generation of friends and loved ones: something a shorter-lived person only has to do once, while elves may very well go through several cycles of that in one lifetime. They have also not yet had their Drawing of the Veil, when they stop being able to access primal memories, memories of their soul's previous lives, but it's mainly the "all my once-powerful and vibrant friends are now frail and dying from old age, and yet here I remain, as young, strong, and beautiful as the day they met me, untouched by the inexorable crawl of time, what is mortality, what is death" thing.

if the people of Faerun in general thought of a 40-year-old elf as immature, as if they were a child, Astarion would have just patently not been an appointed civil administrator and judicial officer (which is what a magistrate is) 200 years ago. like he could have of course been lying when he said that that's what he was, but taking it as the once-truth, nobody would have let someone they see as a child fill such a position of responsibility. It was, however, a perfectly mundane thing for a learned adult man, such as he was, to do. (what he may or may not have done with the power he allegedly had, the kind of person he was, and whether letting him have power was the right move overall, is pretty much completely irrelevant at this juncture. corrupt officials exist regardless of age, just look at the judicial system of any country today.)

an older elf like Halsin, their maturity is not just on a different level, it's measured by a different metric than that of a shorter-lived character.

it's hard to accurately roleplay or grasp something like this with our human minds, none of us have ever spoken to a 300-year-old after all, but.... a 100-year-old elf is not a "young adult", unless you're an elf yourself. If you're a human, they're just... an adult.

[volivolition]

Yoooo Voli I made ya a Electrochemistry × Volition playlist https://open.spotify.com/playlist/19Au6o98AzOf4hEGLMHKtB?si=7kBYYWAhSR-TuLPYicpgYg&pi=a-iR4K2sFbQsWA

also I can't DM you bc you don't follow me, LEMME IN PLS :3

oh hi hello! oooh, hold on, lemme add the link so its clickable. some cool songs in here, thank you for sharing :D!!

also yeah, sorry! :'3 DMs make me nervous and uncomfortable unfortunately, and i much prefer communicating through asks and comments if thats cool!!

[concerned-k1wi]

Phil makes me laugh about how he goes from knowing nothing to knowing everything in lore so fast

Phil: *completely oblivious*

Tallulah: Forever shot me

Phil: OH NO FOREVER IS POSSESSED

Like, how

[youngpettyqueen]

ive tried a few times now and I gotta say it. BJ Goes to Maine as a concept- the way ive seen it executed the most- really just doesnt work for me

[alexiroflife]

"tears"

fluff for the sukuna fans bc i've been in a soft sukuna mood

ryomen sukuna x reader

Synopsis: sukuna isn't a stranger to arguments with you, but when he catches you crying after a particularly harsh one, he finds himself scrambling to fix it... in his own way

to sum it up: sukuna is an asshole but he loves you, so he tries his best

WC: 3,296

Warning(s): a lil angst

You knew exactly what you were getting into when you first started a relationship with the infamous king of curses, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less when his tendency to be an asshole hurt your feelings. 

You know Sukuna isn’t a sentimental person who cares much for things like verbal reassurance, or consideration for the way the things he says can impact you, or anyone for that matter, but damn! Sometimes, he’s just too much of a jerk for you to handle, and Sukuna himself has no idea why your fragile human emotions sway you to be so affected by him. He doesn’t even think he’s said anything wrong the times in which you grow angry with him.

Now, Sukuna can handle your anger. Anger is good. Anger means that there is something he can react to, something he can tame or involve into your intimacies when he takes your mind off of silly arguments or subdues your attitude over what he deems to be small inconveniences. Anger is the only human emotion that he has felt himself in his many years of existence, so he knows what to expect. He understands it. He’s not, in the slightest, intimidated by it.

But what Sukuna finds he can not handle is the sound of your sniffles that resound from behind your door after you’ve just slammed it into his face. Sukuna angles his brows, pressing his ear to the door in confusion. Are you… cold? Coming down with a fever? What the hell are you sniffing your nose so much for?

Then he hears the meek gasps that intercept, the vocalization of pain that creeps into your weakened inhalations that accompany your damned sniffling. That’s when he realizes that you’re crying, and his pupils shrink slightly knowing that he has gone a little too far this time. 

Hell, how is he supposed to handle you crying? He can’t fuck your sadness away like he can with your irritation. He can’t mirror your sadness, since he has no clue what the hell it’s supposed to feel like. He can’t empathize with it either, for he has no idea what he could have done to bring tears to your eyes and empathy, well, it’s not in his vocabulary to begin with. It’s pathetic, he thinks, the way you have allowed him to bother you this much…

Yet it kills him to know that he’s the reason behind your tears.

He stands there for some time, unsure of what to do. Should he get Uraume to handle this? No, that may make things worse. You may want to be alone.

He turns to leave, but something stops him. He feels an ache in his chest, pressing his hand to his bicep. What the hell? What is this feeling?

He can still hear you crying, and somehow, it sounds like it’s getting worse, louder, or perhaps that is all in his head. He can no longer tell, but that sound you’re making is the only thing occupying his mind, and it’s ruining him. It’s making his chest tighten, his brow furrow, his lips press together tightly. He should leave, but he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to abandon you like this. 

Never once in his life has Sukuna felt remorse. Not even for all the times he has made you angry in the past when you two have had arguments. He is so quick to blame your reactions to things on your feeble human emotions. He is so quick to evade responsibility, or more so, refrain from guilting himself over the things he is responsible for. He is so quick to dismiss you, but it’s always fine because he has never witnessed you grow sad over his behavior, not until now.

Sukuna turns back to your door slowly. His hand flies to grab the handle to throw the door open, but he hesitates. He’s unsure of what’s happening to him, for he’s never hesitated before in his life. This, you crying, him second guessing himself, it’s all so new and he hates it. He needs to fix this immediately. 

What do you humans like when you are upset? There’s a word that’s slipping his mind, one he always hears you pester him for but turns down repeatedly. He had found the concept so irrelevant that he hadn’t even bothered to recall what it’s called.

He crosses his arms and stares ahead harshly in thought, then it comes to him. An apology! Yes, that’s what it is. But of course, you can’t expect him to verbalize such a thing. You must want something as a gift. A physical representation of his desire not to see you cry. He rushes off to locate Uraume for preparations.

About an hour later, you’re curled up on your bed and facing the wall with a blank stare. Your tears stopped a while ago, and since you hadn’t heard from Sukuna, you assumed he just didn’t care about your feelings. Like always.

“Oi,” a gruff voice through the door startles you. You jump and turn over, curling your brows in confusion at the sound of Sukuna’s voice. For a moment, you don’t believe he is speaking to you, so you wait some time to see if he will speak again. “I know you can hear me in there,” his voice sounds again, and you groan.

“Go away,” you tell him, flipping back over.

Sukuna, on the other side of the wall, clicks his tongue in agitation. “Quit your pouting and come open this door.”

“No. Until you learn how to treat me better, I don’t want to see you.”

Treat you better? Sukuna doesn’t understand this nonsense. You live in his large estate, you’re pampered by servants, showered with gifts and homemade meals, you sleep by his side every night, and he allows you to disrespect him far more often than he should. Not to mention, he has his arms full of presents at this very moment that are preventing him from opening the door himself. How can he possibly treat you any better than he’s already treating you?

He growls lowly and closes his eyes in irritation. “If you open the door, your mood will improve.”

“I don’t want anything other than what I just said.”

Sukuna’s eye twitches. Why are you so damn difficult? “What is your-”

“Go. Away.”

Oh. Alright, then. 

You sit up abruptly when Sukuna’s foot breaks in the door with a loud crash. You stare with wide eyes, the door, now off its hinge, creaking open weakly to reveal the king of curses with his arms full of several bouquets of flowers.

“What the fuck, Sukuna?!” you cry. He only stares frustratedly as he walks into the space univinted.

“This was going to go on for too long if I hadn’t done something,” he says, approaching the side of your bed.

“You can’t just- fuck! What is wrong with you?”

Okay… this is already going poorly. 

This is not the reaction he had desired from you, and perhaps he should have revisited the idea of kicking in the door, but he had been growing impatient. Despite his big talk, he doesn’t like when you speak to him in such a cold way. He doesn’t like being separated from you. He doesn’t like not being able to see your face, and after all the work he has just done to collect these plants for you, he can not tolerate being turned away. 

“Must you be so dramatic?” he tsks. “Do you not see what I have brought to you? Don’t you humans like these things?”

You stare at him incredulously, mouth agape. Sukuna can see the tear stains clear on your face, and his heart clenches again. God, why is that sight so abominable? 

He holds his arms out, presenting the flowers to you as if you could have possibly missed them. “They are yours. Take them and be done with this.”

“Be done with what, Sukuna?” you shake your head, face scrunched.

“With your tantrum- your tears, and the sniffles. Be done with them now. Here.”

You scoff. “Do you even know why you're giving these to me?”

Sukuna raises a brow. “To cease your tantrum. As I just said.”

“I can’t with you sometimes, Sukuna. Honestly.” 

“This is really the thanks that I get for bringing you these damn flowers? I thought you were supposed to like things like this. Why would you make me waste my time?”

“If you think it’s a fucking waste of time to bring me flowers, then there’s your problem right there,” you raise your voice, pointing at him accusingly. Sukuna’s face hardens. He thinks you’re getting angry again, but he can still see the sadness behind your eyes. You look almost… defeated. “And if you knew me at all, you’d know that I never cared about any of that stuff. I never cared about the flashiness or the gifts or whatever the fuck.”

Sukuna lowers his hands, letting the bouquets drop carelessly to the floor. “Now you are accusing me of not knowing you?” he seethes. “I’m not sure when you decided that it was acceptable for you to speak to me this way, but I will not tolerate it. I do nothing but dote on you, you ungrateful brat.”

“Yeah, sure, you dote on me, and then you turn around and berate me and call everything I feel stupid because you don’t care to even try to understand why some of the things you say are not okay!”

Sukuna walks closer to invade your personal space, leaning in to glare angrily at you as you do the same. This is what he knows. This is what he chooses to respond to. Not the curl in your brow, not the tremble of your lips, not the unsteadiness of your voice, but your anger. “Why should I care if all you do is whine,” he grumbles. 

You clamp your mouth shut as a lump forms in your throat. Sukuna watches you unravel before him, and while he tries to keep an unmoved expression, he is internally panicking when he sees your eyes gloss over again and your nose flare. 

Shit. He’s supposed to be making you feel better. How has he gone and made things worse again? Why is he incapable of understanding how to be what you want him to be?

You take in a trembling inhale as your hands clench and unclench at your sides. You don’t want him to see you cry. You don’t want him to call you weak, but you can’t help the tear that breaks past your lashes and dashes down your cheek, a physical display of your heartache. 

Sukuna’s crimson eyes fly to the tear, and his brows smooth out against his intent. 

Shit. Shit. Shit.

You’re crying again, and it’s his fault. It’s always been his fault. What is this now that he’s feeling? Regret? Shame? Is that what is clawing at his chest and stripping him of his resolve? Making him wish to replay this entire interaction so that you do not appear before him with tears in your eyes once more? Is this what it is to fall? 

You rub angrily at your eyes and huff, turning away from him and plopping back down on your bed, back facing him. You shut yourself away, close yourself off, and deprive Sukuna of your pretty face for the second time today. “Just leave me alone. You’ve made it perfectly clear that you don’t give a fuck about me or anything, for that matter.”

Sukuna’s eyes widen slightly with the deepening of his frown. That ache he has felt in his chest spreads throughout his body, serving as tension in his back, head, and shoulders. You think he doesn’t care for you? What nonsense. You’re the only being on this planet who has made a millennia of existence worth living, and you think he doesn’t care?

Sukuna can not even pin the blame onto you this time around. He can not accuse you of overreacting, nor can he evade such a thing that is so clearly his doing. He has made you feel uncared for, and while his temper may get out of hand, and his inability to fully comprehend the plagues of the human mind gets in the way, and he never tells you that he loves you, making you feel unloved is the last thing he ever meant to do. 

“Hey,” he mumbles, but you do not move. You cling to yourself for comfort because you do not believe he can provide any for you. “Brat-” he starts, but rethinks. He reaches his hand out to you. “(Y/n). Enough of this.”

“I don’t want to see you right now, Sukuna. Can’t you respect at least that for once?” you croak. 

His hand freezes and he lets it fall. Respect. Understanding. That is what you want from him, and he has not been giving it to you. He has not been giving you anything that you request of him emotionally, for that matter. He has been neglecting your mental needs whilst overpowering you with the physical, and it’s drawn you away from him. 

He could force you to get up. He could drag you by your hair to his bedroom. He could make you look him in the eye, make you stay with him, make you stay silent about this from this point on and forever more. Sukuna has the power and the authority to do so…

But the idea is not appealing. Not in the slightest.

Sukuna wants you happy. He wants you to want to be with him willingly, and if he ignores your consent now of all times, it would be like throwing away the life he has built with you. Throwing away your desires, and Sukuna does not long for a world in which you are any more uncomfortable than you already are. 

He takes a step back, looking over the flowers that he has dropped, and accepts the will of the mortal he fell in love with. 

“I will be in my chambers if or whenever you wish to see me,” he says lowly, giving in. He moves to leave but stops himself once more. He never had stopped himself this much before. “...I apologize for making you cry. I will send someone to fix your door immediately.”

Sukuna is well on his way when he hears you shuffling behind him. He turns, admittedly hopeful for your reaction, and finds you peeking in confusion over your shoulder. “...What did you just say?” you whisper.

The king of curses stalls, looking directly into your eyes from across the room. He feels suddenly… weak. Vulnerable. For the first time, he has relented his power for you to take hold of, and it feels strange to say the very least. “Do you wish for me to repeat myself?”

You sit up slowly, turning around. You knuckle at your red nose, watching him suspiciously. “I do. I may have misheard you.”

He studies you for a moment until he realizes that you are being facetious. “You heard me the first time.”

“Maybe I just want you to say it again.”

Sukuna sighs heavily. “I did not intend to make you cry, nor did I intend to make you feel as though I do not care for you. That is a foolish thought, but I understand I do not convey the depth of my feelings for you the way you wish me to convey it.”

You look dumbfounded as you stare at him in silence. Sukuna clicks his tongue, unsure of how you are going to respond. 

“Quit staring at me and say something, woman.”

“I just… never thought…” you trail off, swallowing harshly. “I never thought you would ever say something like that to me.”

“You will only hear me say such things when you are- when I’ve made you unhappy,” he clarifies firmly. Your nose twitches, an involuntary movement that Sukuna catches and finds entirely too adorable. Your eyes are still damp, but your breathing has evened out. 

“That’s the first,” you quip.

“Enough.”

You press your lips together, glancing at the flowers Sukuna brought you. Just then, you notice that they are your favorite. 

You tell yourself you knew what you were getting into when you first started dating the king of curses, but at times you forget that Sukuna is in fact a demon, and a king at that. He does not believe in any better than what he is.

“You hurt my feelings, Sukuna,” you say softly. “Don’t you get what that means? At least for me?”

“No,” he responds honestly. “But I do see now that you have different needs. And I understand that I refuse to watch you cry if there is something I can do about it.”

You try to remain angry with him. You try to keep yourself distanced, but you can not help the way that you are softening, and Sukuna notices. A hint of a smirk curves at the corner of his lips. 

“Is that all I had to say to make this better?”

“Shut the hell up,” you hiss. “It wouldn’t have killed you to apologize for the hundreds of other times we’ve fought, you know.”

“You weren’t crying the other times, woman.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you roll your eyes. 

Sukuna tilts his head, placing a hand on his hip. “You’re not still upset, are you?”

“Yes,” you pout, and he catches on.

“What is it you want now, to be pampered like a spoiled brat?” 

He makes the suggestion as if to offend you, but the two of you both know that he is hardly making a joke. “What I want is for you to fuck off.”

A chuckle rumbles in Sukuna’s throat as he makes his way over to you. You immediately break and screech when he yanks you forward by your ankle and loops you up into his arms before sitting down on your bed and setting you in his lap. 

He looks you dead in the eye and lifts a rough thumb, swiping stubbornly at your tear stains and your damp lashes. “Crybaby,” he mutters, and you swat his hand away.

“Whatever, asshole.” You push at his chest with weak contempt and he looks at you boredly.

“You’re pitiful,” he grumbles, gripping your chin securely and guiding it to him. His blood red eyes seep into yours, gazing intently. “No more tears, do you understand?”

“Then don’t make me sad.”

“I won’t,” he tells you confidently.

A smile twitches on your lips as you look over him, completely unfamiliar with this side of the king of curses. “Can you do one more thing for me, and then I’ll maybe think about forgiving you?” you bite your lip, pressing your finger to his broad shoulder.

Sukuna grunts. “More demands, huh? I suppose you know how to take advantage of a situation. What more do you want?”

You wrap your arms over his neck. “Tell me how much you care about me,” you sing. 

“Did I not just do so?”

“No, I want you to spell it out. Tell me you love me.”

“I highly tolerate you.”

“Tell me you loveeee me.”

“You are the only human being I do not frown upon.”

“Sukuna.”

“Christ, woman, you’re mine. Isn’t that enough?” he grits his teeth and you snort, patting his cheek gently. 

“For now.”

“Such a pest, you know that?” he mumbles, pushing in swiftly to press his lips firmly to yours in a swift peck. “Don’t ever say I don’t care for you again. It is the most false and offensive thing I have ever heard."

[angelsheartts]

୭ JEALOUSY ˚. ᵎᵎ ~

#pairing : lucifer, adam, alastor, angel dust, husk, valentino, vox, x gn reader.

#cw: jealousy?, +18 in valentino's/vox's part, suggestive content ig, cuss words lmao.

#notes: u guys don’t know how much i wanna know why lilith made a deal with adam, and how could she even fumbled lucifer.

⋆.ೃ- LUCIFER .

i don't think lucifer gets jealous easily, at least, but if he is jealous, he will surely become reallyyyy clingy and will try to show off. i mean, he's the sin of pride, after all.

being the partner of the king of hell really meant that there would always be people staring at you, even ones who had no shame at all and would flirt with you, sometimes even in front of lucifer.

"would you mind if I bought you a drink, sweetheart?" a powerful overlord asked you, making lucifer raise an eyebrow and look at the overlord with one of his annoyed characteristics expressions, and before you could even reply anything, lucifer had already bought you both the whole menu of drinks while clinging onto you. "do you think this is enough for you, (name)?" he asked, making the overlord stop bothering you both and making you gasp a soft sigh, knowing he did all of this with such an innocent face, as if he wasn’t getting annoyed just a second ago.

⋆.ೃ- ADAM .

his ego is too big for him to even consider the idea of being jealous, but boy, does he want to get rid of the fucking asshole who is talking to you.

even though you were adam's third wife/adam's first husband, you were nice to being around. not like your husband, who always made snarky comments about everything and everyone.

sometimes, though, people would flirt with you without you noticing, making your husband really irritated and dragging you away while flipping off the angel who initially flirted with you and making some snarky remarks about them. "(name), that bitch was literally fucking you with his eyes! you should have called me before, next time make sure to be around me, got it?" adam called out, making you giggle since his insults were sometimes so unexpected.

⋆.ೃ- ALASTOR .

alastor is the kind of guy who wouldn’t get jealous; maybe once an extermination you would see him acting a little possessive over you, but really, this guy knows your soul belongs to him, so why would there be a need to feel jealous?

actually, only your friends at the hazbin hotel where the only ones who knew about your relationship with alastor; it made sense, since he knew you could get in danger if someone else found out.

that didn’t meant that angel dust wouldn’t take the opportunity to flirt with you as a joke while trying to get a reaction from you. "(name), i think you would get pretty popular if you started to appear on my films" he said jokingly to you, while alastor just looked at him with his usual smile "i don’t think that (name) would want to get involved in that kind of stuff, angel dust, isn’t that right, dear?" alastor answered, kissing your cheek, and leaving you speechless since he mostly kept his affection for when the both of you where alone.

⋆.ೃ- ANGEL DUST .

for me, he may get jealous depending on who's hitting on you; if it’s some random imp, it won’t really bother him; he will just tell them to fuck off themselves and leave you alone, but if it’s someone like valentino, oh boy, he acts VERY different.

angel dust didn’t really like you being in the porn studios were he works, because he knows that valentino is waiting to say anything to you, and because he simply thinks you don’t belong in a place like that. he thinks you’re much better working at the hazbin hotel or wandering around the pride ring.

"(name), aren’t you a supportive one? you know that if you want, i could make you a star lik-" "val, we're on set soon" angel dust spoke, looking angrily at valentino. "well, looks like your little boyfriend doesn’t want me to talk to you; i’m sure we’ll have plenty of time the next time," valentino whispered, making you stand there awkwardly.

as you both were finally at the hazbin hotel, anthony asked you not to come next time, since he really didn’t want valentino talking to you ever again. "(name), you know i really don’t want to get you in trouble, and you know that outside of the studio we can do whatever the fuck we want, but still, thanks for the snack you brought." he said, smirking, and letting you cuddle into his arms like you always do after an exhausting day.

⋆.ೃ- HUSK .

husk would only get jealous or, well, mostly, frustrated if someone interrupted you both, like if you both are just having a wholesome moment and someone just steals your attention from him, he’s a cat after all AND will be grumpy afterward.

you were having a nice chat with husk while having a drink at his bar, but as he was explaining you something, alastor came along and asked you something between the lines of 'if you had seen charlie or vaggie' since he had to talk to them about some business about the hazbin hotel.

after alastor left, you turned to look at your partner, noticing how he had been growling this entire time. it wasn’t really loud, though. "tsk, that radio demon really needed to ruin the atmosphere," he said, making you give him a look "what? you know, i dislike the idea of him thinking that he can just do whatever he pleases with my stuff." hearing your partner's words, you knew you had to reassure him that even though alastor had interrupted you both, your attention was still set on him and no one else.

⋆.ೃ- VALENTINO .

he’s valentino, he surely and kind of obviously gets jealous whenever you’re talking to someone that isn’t him.

the workers in the studio know that since you worked there, you've only filmed with valentino; nobody questions why, and nobody really cares whatever reason their boss has to not let you fuck with others.

today, though, a worker intended to jokingly flirt with you. "(name), i think that if we make a video together, even the most pure souls would want to watch it" oh, well, that wasn’t even a little funny to valentino.

"such a slut for me, mmh? you really thought my sweet (name) would even think about fucking with you?" valentino smirked, while thrusting into you. he had his eyes set on the demon who flirted with you, not even caring about the fact that he was on set.

⋆.ೃ- VOX .

this man has the same jealousy problems, or even worse, than valentino. he's actually such an attention whore, so he obviously would despise everyone who tries to flirt with you.

actually everyone who works for the vees knows how jealous vox is, and that’s because this is a situation that often happens: if someone is even looking at you a little longer than usual, he will become insecure and try ANYTHING he can so he can have your attention on him. like i mentioned, he’s an attention whore.

today, the outfit that velvette chose for you might have made some people stare back at you. i mean he can’t judge them; you looked so fucking good in it, but hell does he want to have you all by himself, so what does he does? take you to his office so he can have you all by himself.

"(name)," he mutters while keeping his hands all over your body. "you knew what you were doing, huh? making everyone stare at your body, but i’m such a good partner for not making a fuss about it, right?" he asked, waiting for you to atleast praise him, 'cause like a already mentioned he’s an attention wh- lmao.

[strangererotica]

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Art the Clown x Reader | SMUT | CW: reader is married to an abusive husband | reader uses drugs/alcohol to cope with her abusive marriage | murder/killing mentioned

This story is extremely explicit and deliciously fever dream-ish imo. Hope you enjoy it, my fellow clown fuckers ❤️

What the ever loving fuck is wrong with me?

That’s what you were thinking as your common sense peeked out briefly from the fog of alcohol and weed in your system…a moment of sobriety just long enough to make you question what motivation you could have for the decisions you were now making.

He smelled. Like dried blood and sex, the kind of sex that hurts you, but doesn’t stop you from wanting more. Maybe it would have been enough to stop you, under any other (sober) circumstances. But as it was, you were already sitting in this strange man’s lap, in the middle of an empty mall after closing. And what made the situation even more surreal? The fact that he was dressed in a goddamn Santa suit and wearing gaudy black and white clown makeup all over his face.

Yeah, you really needed to stop sneaking into the mall bathroom and getting fucked up. Swiping a pack of edibles and two travel-sized bottles of cinnamon spice vodka from the gas station had been a bad idea to begin with. Using the privacy of the bathroom to get wasted and scroll through your phone for two hours would have been considered strange behavior by most people. But most people (in fact, no one) knew the reason why you avoided home like the plague.

Your husband was abusive, in every way possible. He controlled every aspect of your life, to the point that sometimes, you worried he could even read your thoughts. Where you went, who you spoke to, your finances, your diet, your sex life; everything about you belonged to him. It was suffocating. And while your habit of stealing from the gas station and hiding in the mall bathroom was an unhealthy coping mechanism, you were coping. Even if eventually it bit you in the ass, like tonight. When you got a little too high, a little too drunk, to notice the time, or the fact that the mall outside the bathroom stall you were locked in had grown quiet…

The mall was closed. Fucking closed, with you locked inside it. You’d staggered out of the bathroom like a fucking zombie in what looked to be a post apocalyptic scene. The mall was empty, devoid of life. Everything was eerily silent, apart from your footsteps shuffling across the tile floor as you took in your empty surroundings. The mall was dimly-lit, the only light source coming from high above, moonlight streaming in through the big panel windows on the mall ceiling.

You found one of the exits, and tried the door. It was locked, or maybe you were too high/drunk to figure a way out? It didn’t matter because regardless, you weren’t going anywhere for awhile. Either you’d sober up and figure out how to get out, or you’d be stuck waiting till security came by in the morning and let you out. A pleasant thought tickled at the back of your mind: your husband had no idea where you were. It felt good to be so far beyond his radar that his ability to oversee your every move was completely fucked. What did scare you, however, was the thought of confronting him in the morning. How would he react to you staying out all night? Obviously it wouldn’t go over well, and just imagining what your husband’s punishment might involve had your stomach twisting.

So instead of ruining your high by worrying about the inevitable, you decided to finish the last of your vodka, yelling “fuck it!” into the empty void around you. Your voice echoed back at you off the walls of the empty mall. It was creepy, and a little exciting, being unsupervised and alone with this kind of freedom. The excitement you felt only heightened when you noticed him. Your mouth twisted into a grin of disbelief, because how fucking high WERE you that you were literally seeing Santa Claus in front of you right now?? You took a step towards him, still unsure if he was even real.

He was sitting in an ornate wooden chair framed by two massive Christmas trees. The strands of lights decorating them weren’t on, just like all the other lights inside the mall. Above him, a sign written in ridiculously large print read “SANTA,” as if the scene itself would have implied anything other than the jolly old elf’s presence. You forced your gaze to focus on the man/hallucination in front of you, the smile on his face as big as yours. And he was a…clown, too? You laughed out loud, the absurdity of it all becoming too much. Your laughter was tinny and soft, like the sound of jingle bells, and it seemed only fitting considering you were standing mere feet away from the man, the myth, the legend himself: Santa Claus.

He patted his lap, encouraging you over. The fact that he apparently didn’t speak made the vodka-soaked dreamworld you were currently wandering feel even more like a dream. As you approached ‘Santa Clown,’ the possibility of him being a figment of your imagination became less believable. When he reached for your arm and tugged you onto his lap, you were certain. He was absolutely real.

You gasped, a surprised giggle spilling from your lips. The clown seemed to enjoy your amusement, bouncing you on his knee just to hear the string of excited giggles that tumbled out of you. He was playing with you, and you were loving it. His hair, or the wig he wore, spilled over his shoulders in off-white waves, flecked by bits of red. It took you a few seconds to register that the red bits were actually dried blood, and that the same blood was caked onto the beard that hung loosely underneath Santa Clown’s chin.

Should you have been alarmed? Probably. But instead of sensing danger coming from the clown, you felt oddly protected, safe. Whoever that blood belonged to, whoever he may have hurt, the clown didn’t seem in any hurry to hurt YOU. In fact, based on the stiffening pulse of his cock under your ass, it seemed like the clown was enjoying your company very much.

To test your theory, you decided to tease him a little and see where it led. Shifting intentionally on his lap, you reached to smooth the blood-crusted strands of hair back from Santa Clown’s face, revealing his sharp cheekbones and smooth, painted-white skin. He was oddly handsome, attractive in a dark kind of way. The way villains are always more appealing than heroes, or more philosophically, how Eve must have felt when she was seduced by the serpent’s persuasive tongue. There was something forbidden about the clown, something instinctively, inherently wrong about wanting him. And yet, that wrongness was precisely part of the reason you did want him.

His smile faded slowly to an expression you couldn’t name, his eyes going dark. Had your flirting upset him? A chill ran through you as even the air around you both seemed to go colder. A sudden sizzle of electricity made you flinch, and you watched as around you, the lights on the Christmas trees were illuminated. You smiled, a pleased chuckle of surprise leaving your lips, and the clown smiled with you. He seemed to enjoy making you feel good; and perhaps the dark supernatural forces that followed him came in handy in times like these, when manipulating electricity could be used to impress a pretty girl?

The rest of the mall remained in darkness, with only the Christmas lights illuminating the festive scene. “It’s so pretty,” you said, and you realized it was the first time you’d actually spoken to the clown. He nodded, feigning a kind of bashful grin, and extended his index finger toward you, tapping lightly against your breasts. Your eyebrows lifted at the sweet gesture. It had been a long time since anyone had called you ‘pretty,’ and somehow, even in the absence of words, the clown had said everything right.

“Me?” you asked coquettishly, feeling emboldened by the vodka thundering through your system. “You think I’m pretty?”

The clown nodded vigorously, his big, toothy smile returning. “Well y’know what?” you asked through a giggle. “I think you’re pretty handsome, Santa.”

The clown’s mouth made the shape of a surprised ‘O,’ and he pointed to himself, his lips forming the word ‘me???’

“Yeah,” you replied. “And, as a matter of fact-.” You leaned in so your lips were at the clown’s ear, the coppery scent of blood stronger by his face. “-I’m ready to tell you what I want for Christmas…”

You didn’t expect to feel his hand on your chin, turning your head to face him. His expression had shifted back to the one you’d been unable to read earlier, the look you’d mistaken for him being upset. Now, as his thumb tugged your bottom lip downward and his dark eyes studied the shape of your mouth, you realized his expression was one of lust.

You sucked in a breath, extending your tongue to meet his thumb. The metallic tang of old blood met your tastebuds, melting over your tongue as the dried blood under the clown’s thumbnail was wetted by your spit. You didn’t care whose blood it was, because in this strange new reality, nothing beyond this space in the empty mall mattered. His eyes followed his thumb as it pressed deeper, your lips closing around its base, sucking lightly. You shifted again on the clown’s lap; it was so bumpy now that he was fully hard, his erection making it difficult to sit still.

His gaze was fixed on your lips, the space his thumb had disappeared between. You backed your head away slowly, letting his thumb slide out of your mouth with a wet pop. Your hands closed over his thighs to balance yourself as you slipped off his lap, locking your eyes with his as you settled between his boots on the ground. Resting your head against his right thigh, the heady smell of piss and sweat filled your senses. His hand was on your head, fingers laced through your hair and guiding you, inward. Closer. Closer to the space he wanted your mouth, where he needed it to be.

You wet your lips with your tongue and watched as the clown worked the large buckle of his belt undone. He tugged the waist of his pants lower, just enough for his cock to spring free, smacking against his stomach, pre cum clinging to the white fur trim of his jacket. Your mouth fell open at the sight of his member, its impressive length only half as striking as its girth. He closed his gloved hand around himself, pumping up and down his shaft in a few slow, unhurried strokes. The look in his eyes was almost wicked; he knew the thought of him filling your throat intimidated you, and he liked that fear.

With his other hand locked in your hair, the clown pulled your head closer, till your mouth was poised at his tip. He pressed the fat bulb to your lips, admiring the way they parted obediently for him. Urging his hips forward, the clown pushed his cock inside your mouth. The salty taste of his skin on your tongue was unpleasant at first, but you quickly forgot about any discomfort once he’d established a rhythm back and forth inside you. The head of his cock pushed the salty taste to the back of your throat, and you swallowed it down. From there, the only challenge you faced was opening your throat enough to take him. The clown’s hand on your head continued to guide it, pumping your mouth over him like a sleeve. You needed to breathe, to swallow the air his cock was denying you. Just when you thought you might be sick, the clown removed himself from your throat, allowing you the chance to breathe, a long line of saliva trailing from your bottom lip to the head of his cock. He grinned down at you approvingly, patting your head as if to say ‘good girl,’ before lifting you once again by the hair, and shoving himself back between your lips.

He leaned forward and closed his other hand around your throat, feeling his cock fucking you from the inside out. Your cunt was dripping, a pearly string of your wetness slicking the ground between your knees. You squeezed your thighs together as the clown used your throat, desperate for some kind of stimulation. He could sense your desperation, and offered you his boot as a relief, wedging it between your legs to give you something to grind on. You humped it gratefully, rocking your swollen cunt against the clown’s shoe. He stilled inside your throat, buried deep, his fingers tightening in your hair to the point your scalp was stinging. A gush of semen washed down your throat, followed by another. You struggled to swallow it all, your throat constricting as the clown’s cum filled it to capacity. You gagged and choked, and he pulled you off his cock just as vomit began creeping its way up the back of your throat. His wild eyes and wide grin beamed down at you, his chest rising and falling quickly in the aftermath of his climax. Semen you hadn’t been able to swallow dripped down your chin in a thick line. When you attempted to wipe it away, the clown stopped you with a swat of his hand against yours. He wanted to see the results of his work in and on you, his work of Art.

He jerked his boot where it was wedged between your thighs, bouncing you on top of it. You whimpered at the sensation, your neglected little cunt aching and engorged. You needed to come, so badly that it hurt. The clown watched as you stayed knelt at his feet, straddling his boot and humping it like a bitch in heat, grunting and panting, no more than an animal. Your orgasm shook you to your core, your muscles gripping and sucking around nothing, clit throbbing against the clown’s boot as you rubbed yourself into it, moaning and spitting a string of obscenities into his pants leg, where your face was buried.

After your body ceased shaking, you looked up to see the clown still grinning down at you. He offered his hands for you to take hold of, and helped you back into his lap. An hour passed, and then another. You couldn’t say for certain, but you think you must have fallen asleep in the clown’s arms for an hour or so, because at some point, you noticed that the stars were beginning to fade in the sky. Morning was coming, and that meant going home. To your husband. To your abuser.

Fear roiled in your stomach, along with the alcohol and cum filling it. You despised this feeling of dread, of being scared by a shit stain of a human being like your husband. If only you could live free of his tyranny, you imagined. How much better would the world be without the influence of such a toxic man as your husband…?

…And then, the idea formed in your mind. You tilted your head to the clown’s face. Studying the blood on his hair and skin once again, you decided to ask a favor of him. “Santa,” you began, because you didn’t know what else to call him. “You’ve killed people before…haven’t you?”

The clown feigned an apologetic expression and raised his hands as if to say “guilty.”

You nodded your head, a hopeful smile on your lips. And then, you asked him: “How would you like to kill my husband?” 🔪🩸🤍

PART TWO

@arts-bloody-gloves

[dirtysvthoughts]

mafia boss! wonwoo x reader headcanons

tags/warnings: smut, female! reader, reader is shorter than wonwoo, some pwp, some worldbuilding before the smut (you know how i do), pet names (pretty girl, little one, etc.), mentions of love languages, mentions of lingerie, fingering, lots of kissing and making out, mentions of a dinner, apartment sex, kitchen sex into bedroom sex, make sure they wrap it up before you unwrap it! i’m actually highly upset i can’t have wonwoo blow my back out on a regular

author’s note: first of all, HEY BESTIES! i know i’ve been kinda silent, but i’m slowly getting back my will and motivation to write (do NOT take 3 classes during the summer). i’ve been dying to get my thoughts out on this after the lalali mv, and who knows - this may end up as a full length fic sometime soon 👀 let’s get into it!

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-mafia boss! wonwoo whose gang started off small, and now he runs one of the largest mafia organizations in the country. he’s cunning, smart, sly, intimidating, even ruthless. those under him respect and admire him, from his vice-leader to the newer members. he strikes fear into several and he is not to be taken lightly or crossed. several groups have been eliminated with just a few words from his lips (like he said, he’s a monster).

-then enter you, his lover, whose entire lifestyle is the opposite of the one he leads. you’re just a simple office worker, but you’re fortunate enough to have some extra pleasures, like a lavish apartment and a decent social life. wonwoo has had his share of women and previous relationships, but you were different. you keep him level headed and grounded. your calm demeanor and intelligence are so very, very attractive to him. and of course, your looks and natural beauty were stunning. he’s protective of you and would prefer you rather not get involved in any of his business endeavors.

-even though he insists on not bringing you into his craziness, he wants to help you out and provide for you as much as he can. his acts of service have ranged from his captains running errands for you to even giving you large monetary gifts every few months.

smut under the cut!! minors DO NOT INTERACT FROM HERE!

-good god, sex with mafia boss! wonwoo would go two ways: rough sex with you screaming and begging for mercy or soft sex with you whimpering and moaning his name, telling you to hold your cum in until he says you can release it. either way, his dominance will be asserted.

-has multiple pet names for you, but absolutely loves calling you: “little one,” “princess,” “my darling,” and “pretty girl.”

-mafia boss! wonwoo has an OBSESSION with you in lingerie. he. can’t. get. enough. he’s bought you multiple sets, and of course has his favorites. absolutely loves it when you dress up for him, he will roam his calloused hands up and down your body, kissing your stomach as he toys with the hem of your panties.

-one of your sexual encounters was in his gang’s warehouse (before the group’s weekly meeting, so it was empty). he looked so dashing in his green gucci suit, hair pulled back into a bun - the wetness gushing in your panties making it clear you needed him. when he closes and locks the warehouse garage door, he crashes his lips onto yours while his hands grab your ass. he grunted something about missing you and how he needed to feel your tight cunt around him. at the moment, you’re unable to form words, but you feel the exact same way, all you could think about was him while you were working and the last time he fucked you silly. he walks you over to a table, lips still on yours and his hands now moving to take off your blouse. he tosses the white garment to the side, leaving you in your bra and work pants. once the back of your knees hit the edge of the table, he guides you to lay on top, clearing off everything in your way - objects loudly crashing to the floor. he caresses your face as his right hand works the clasps and the zipper on your pants, fingers slowly trailing inside your panties, and lightly touching your clit from the outside. you can help but bite your lip and moan his name, wonwoo smirking in response and he rubs the pad of his fingers around your part. “think you can finish before junghoon (his vice leader) gets here, little one?”

-another wonderful sexual encounter brought out his soft dom side. he wanted to spend some time with you, so you two set a date where he can come over to your place, have some food, and enjoy your company. on the day of, he rings the doorbell to your apartment, bringing with him a bottle of champagne, dressed in a white mock turtleneck with black pants. when you open the door, a smile appears on his face and you take his hand, leading him through the door. you just put him at ease, and he feels so comfortable around you. “i missed you my darling,” he whispers as he kisses your hand, a blush creeping on your cheeks.

-some time passes after dinner, and the two of you are talking in the kitchen with champagne still in your glasses. as you sit on the counter, wonwoo finishes washing the dishes, thanking you for the meal. you shrug and say it was nothing and you didn’t mind, but wonwoo insists that it was something more. “i know i don’t say this a lot, but i want to let you know that i do love you, and you mean a lot to me.” your heart melts at his words and you give wonwoo a hug as he comes back to your side. “i love you too, baby,” you whisper. a few moments later, you delicately press your lips on his, and he seals the deal. your tongues dance together as you continue to kiss, this time your hands are the first to move and they tug at the hem of his turtleneck, pulling it up to reveal some of his abs. he helps you out as his shirt goes higher, and it’s quickly tossed to the other side of the room. he returns the favor by taking off your crop top, revealing the bra that beautifully accentuates your breasts. he licks his lips as he kisses your neck, his hands moving slowly up your thighs. “w-wonwoo,” you whine, “i need you!” “i know, darling, i know,” he responds. “you’ll have everything you want and more tonight.” he carries you bridal style to your bedroom, lips still locked together as gently tosses you onto the bed.

-you’re pretty sure by now your neighbors can hear you moan for your partner, but you could care less right now - wonwoo was thrusting into so deliciously that you body pinged with each movement. he knew your body and he knew how to please you, and tonight he wanted to make sure just how much you meant to him. filthy phrases leave his mouth, calling you his baby girl, how perfect your pussy was for him, and all he wanted was to see your legs covered in his juices. you grasp onto your hotel-like white sheets, your face contorting as his deep voice and dick send you over the edge when he hits your spot and releases his load in you. you breathe heavily as you come too, saying his name over and over as if it was the only thing you knew.

“i love you little one,” he kisses your cheek as he pulls out, embracing you as you cuddle up to his side.

“mmm, i love you too.”