#i need to draw him more...can't fuck up my old man now :(((

[hakusins]

cordelia wasn't always a tsundere uwu.... when she was a wee gum drop, she loved sticking by her pa and thought he was the coolest guy in the world! (she still does as a teen/young adult, its just that she's a bit more embarrassed to admit it-)

[shotmrmiller]

pornstar au

f!reader x ghost x price :)

2.7k words

tw: teacher-student scenario again, just for the sake of the porn. also, DP. first time writing it, so be NICE!

big thanks to @waves-against-a-cliff for reading what i won't

You sat on Professor Riley's lap after class, his rigid length smearing precum in between your soft, bare thighs as he fucked them. His large hands curled around your waist, long fingers creating tiny dents where he dug them into the supple flesh.

His breath warmed the delicate skin of your throat, as pants escaped his lips. You deliberately pressed your legs closer together— hoping that it provided enough amount of friction for him to finish.

You need this extra credit, after all.

Ghost inhaled sharply when you did, the grip he had on you almost painful.

"Fuckin' hell." His rich groan resonated in your chest. The gusset of your knickers was damp with arousal, both yours and his. The languid drag of his cock against your clothed pussy was so tantalizing, your core ached to be filled.

You were about to urge him to forget intercrural sex— to undress and fuck you already when a sharp knock on the door cuts through the fog in your head; a sudden rush of clarity pouring over you like a bucket of ice-cold water.

Shit.

Your back straightens at the interruption and quickly move to get off of Ghost's lap when he wraps an arm around your middle, keeping you firmly in place. A strangled noise claws up your throat. He cannot be serious.

"Come in," he calls out.

"No. No no no, you can't— you'll be fired, I'll be expelled, Professor Riley, please—" your voice warbles in your panic. His hold on you is as strong as steel, leaving no room for escape or resistance. You're helpless as the doors creep open and Professor Price steps in.

Of course, it's the most pretentious asshole teacher in existence.

"Hey, Riley, have you gotten the ema—" he trails off. His striking blue eyes flick down to your legs. Or more precisely, to what's still in between them fully erect.

"I was unaware you were busy with a...student." The sound of his footsteps draws closer. "Is this what you call detention?" Price leans on the desk with his hip, eyes never straying from you.

Ghost stifles a laugh. "Ask a better question, Price."

Heat licks up your jaw and cheeks when he resumes his thrusting as if there isn't another whole grown man in the room— one who can potentially ruin both his career and your collegiate one.

"Like what, Riley? Want me to ask if I can get a taste?" You look at Price and notice that his eyes are dark, limpid blue rings around the edges— knuckles stained white with how tightly he's clenching his hands. "You've never been a sharing type."

"Well, this sweet toy of mine loves being shared, doesn't she?" Swiftly, Ghost lifts you, his manhood now nestled against the curve of your back. His clever fingers move to your covered center, and draw featherlight circles on your hood, right above your clit. A whimper falls from your lips at the feeling.

"Answer him, pet. Tell Price ya don't mind gettin' this pretty pussy licked by him." He presses down on your bundle of nerves firmly with the pad of his thumb when you take a second too long to answer.

"I, I don't," you hiss when he rubs, "d-don't mind." Ghost gives your cunt a gentle tap.

"Don't mind what?" You swallow the lump lodged in your throat.

"I don't mind getting my pussy licked by Professor Price." His teeth tenderly graze the shell of your ear, followed by a small nip.

"Good girl," he mutters into your hair. Then directs his attention to Price, who's biting his bottom lip— the look he's giving you making your head swim. "She answered, so get down here or get out," he commands.

Ghost clasps his hands under your thighs and lifts until your feet rest flat above his knees. He hooks a finger into the sodden fabric of your knickers and drags it to the side, baring your glistening slit to the cold air of the room, erupting your heated skin in goosebumps. "On your knees, old man, unless they're too creaky to handle this."

Price's lip curls with unveiled amusement. "I was simply admirin' the view, Riley. Don't get your pants in a twist." He lowers himself to the floor smoothly until he's kneeled within inches of your exposed sex.

His prickly beard tickles the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, and his mouth is warm and wet as his tongue slides between your folds.

Another former industry giant devouring your passion with the hunger of a starved man at a lavish feast. Each stroke of his tongue spreads the warmth in your stomach, a pressure slowly rising, building—

"Sit her on you," Price mouths against your cunt.

When you find yourself wedged between two burly men, there's not much you can do except surrender to their wishes. That means being lowered onto Ghost— instinctively closing your eyes as you savor the stretch and biting the inside of your gummy cheek at the mildly uncomfortable burn.

Gravity does most of the work as you sink into him in one gentle stroke.

And without reprieve, Price dives right back in. The dull ache from where Ghost's tip presses into the plug of your womb, to the pleasure coming from the attention given to your swollen bundle of nerves.

An intoxicating mix of bliss with pain furling at the edges.

It's so good, teetering on the edge of too much, but when Price sucks lightly on your clit, your body seizes. You scrabble to grab his dark brown hair, blunt nails biting into his scalp as your shatter around Ghost's cock and Price's mouth.

Ecstasy pulses through you like the steady beat of your heart, white-hot euphoria coursing through your veins. There's a ringing in your ears, shrill and deafening, and your breathing comes in ragged pants as you come down from your high.

Your face glistens with sweat as droplets trickle down your temples, hair plastered to your forehead.

Jesus.

Price lapped at the arousal that dripped down Ghost's length, softly groaning at the taste before giving you a wolfish grin behind his coarse facial hair that was damp with your desire.

"Welcome back, sweetheart," he murmurs.

You relax the tight hold you have on his hair as he tenderly kisses where you and Ghost are joined.

Ghost nudges your ear with his nose, and his deep voice rolls over you like a wave. "Greedy little cunt jus' about cut off my circulation, pet." He shifts under you, sliding even deeper than before, a hiss escaping from behind your teeth.

"I think Price is feelin' a little left out, don't you?" With a shaky nod and a quiet mhm, you feel his lips press against the side of your neck.

"Think you can take us both?" It feels more like a warning of what's to come than a genuine question. The idea of being stuffed by both of them sends a thrill up your back.

Price sits back on his haunches, palming himself from outside his trousers. "Think so, sweetheart?" He rises to his feet and promptly sweeps away everything from the wooden desk, scattering them across the floor. Taking a seat on the desk, he positions himself comfortably, his legs slightly bent and his feet firmly touching the ground. How unfair.

With a hand, Price beckons you to him.

Your legs tremble almost comically after having them in such an unnatural position for so long; tingling when you finally stretch them out in front of you. Ghost's hands at your waist help you stand, wincing when he pulls out of you unceremoniously.

Under his breath, he apologizes and gently nudges you towards Price by pressing his hand on your shoulder blades. "Go on, it's rude to keep him waiting." You're then guided forward as warm hands wrap around your biceps, leading you to stand in front of Price.

You drag your eyes from his down to his groin, where his erection is confined behind the strained zipper. Suddenly, Ghost's toned arms surround you, his hands eagerly reaching for the button on the front. "Lemme help ya out, love."

In seconds, Price's heavy manhood bobs as it springs out, ruddy tip hitting just below his navel. Simon firmly grabs your hand and swiftly turns it, exposing your palm. Without warning, he shamelessly spits on it before wrapping it around Price.

A guttural noise escapes him when you squeeze the thick of it tightly. He bucks his hips in a deliberate rhythm— taking hold of your wrist, ensuring your hand remains in position as he continues to thrust upwards until his cock is slick with his precum.

You can't help but rub your thighs together in hopes of getting some of the friction you're desperate for.

"Not gonna come already, are ya Price? We haven't even gotten started." Ghost ignores his scoff, rapping his knuckles on the desk. "Knickers off and climb up, pet."

You hastily tear off your smallclothes, shucking them to the side with your foot before hopping up on the desk, one leg at a time. Price steadies you with his hands on your waist. As you straddle him, your muscles ignite with a satisfying burn as they adjust the expanse of his thighs.

His voice is soft, gentle even, when he whispers into your ear. "Good?" You gasp sharply when Ghost spanks your arsecheeks before nodding at Price. "Jus' like we practiced, yeah?"

Yeah, just like you practiced. The plug you had to wear throughout the week whenever they both weren't tearing you in half should be more than enough prep. You hope.

Ghost taps the side of your thigh. "Cockwarm him while I get this perfect arse ready."

The stretch is intense as you lower yourself on Price— his cock thicker than Ghost's just not as long— it pushes the air out of your lungs. He bites his lip til it reddens, his eyes fixed onto where he disappears inside of you, fingers digging into the meat of your waist.

Your eyes flutter closed when he finally bottoms out, his girth splitting your swollen walls apart mercilessly.

God, he feels so good.

And then the sting of one thick, lubed finger pressing into your tight ring of muscle smothers some of that pleasure.

"Hey, hey. Look at me." Price tips your chin up with his hand, your eyes meeting his. "Good. Breathe for me, sweetheart." He leans forward to place open-mouthed prickly kisses on your neck. "Breathe, love. You've already taken us before. You did beautifully then, and you'll do beautifully now."

He distracts you from the discomfort by suckling on your skin, leaving red little love bites behind. Then, a second finger, so much bigger than your own. Price hisses sympathetically when you do— a tiny whimper coming from the back of your throat.

This time it's Ghost that breathes into your ear. "Doin' so good f'me."

Then he works a third finger in, and your back arches at the jolt of pain that licks up your spine.

Words of praise fall upon your ears, syrupy and saccharine, dulling the ache. He scissors and stretches gingerly, as he's always done. Ghost takes his time, curling his fingers inside— a slow and steady in and out that eventually has you clamping around Price.

He sucks in a breath through his teeth when you do. "So bloody tight."

"Alrigh' Price." Ghost takes you by the hips and cants them forward slightly, a cry falling from your lips at the change in angle. "Hold her open f'me."

He does just that; rough, worn hands spreading you open almost embarrassingly. There's a hot and heavy weight tapping your arse once, thrice— and then there's a blunt pressure pushing into your other much smaller hole. Your spine bows at the thick invasion, it burns, it throbs, but smart fingers find your neglected pearl and start to circle it.

The pain is merely physical, it can be overcome. Focus on the touch on your clit, focus on the hands that hold you, the heat that radiates from both of them. The harsh breathing of the man behind you as he fights to keep himself from fucking himself into you unfettered. Strained noises spilled from Price's parted lips as he felt your channel constrict, your sex beginning to get slick with your desire.

Ghost hilts, leaning forward until his barrel chest hits your back, a strangled groan coming from him. You felt unbearably full, about to tear at the bloody seams. Every single nerve from your navel down to the tips of your toes was on fire. You felt a throbbing sensation radiating from the back of your skull.

It was scalding hot, searing. The thin membrane that separated them felt stretched beyond its limit.

"Y'okay?" You can't even tell who asked you that past the rushing of blood that's in your ears. Your head feels too heavy on your shoulders, letting it lull forward until your forehead rests on Price's collarbone.

Ghost's chest vibrates as he speaks, the low rumble sinking into your skin, warming you from the inside. "Breathe for us, love. Deep in, slow out."

Right.

You remember what Price had said the very first time they fucked you. 'Breathing helps to process any pain and supports the nervous system.'

As you inhale deeply, your lungs expand to the point where you can feel a twinge of discomfort. But as you exhale, the tension in your body melts, your muscles gradually slackening.

Ghost undulates his hips once languidly, and while the ache flared back to life, below that was the pleasure you've become well acquainted with, desperately clawing its way to the surface.

A moan slips out of you unbidden.

"Perfect. So fuckin' perfect." Price's praise makes you dig your fingers into his broad shoulders, nails biting into his skin.

Then you're lifted by two sets of hands— one on your hips, the other on the underside of your thighs and brought back down. Fuck.

"Tha's it, love. Takin' us both so well," Ghost murmurs. When you begin to mewl, a clear sign of pleasure, Price plants his feet on the floor, and snaps his hips up. Black spots dot your vision, a euphoria shooting through your veins.

God, you hope your hips hold out.

They begin to move in tandem, one pushing in completely, while the other pulls out until just an inch stays inside.

It's sublime, obscene squelching coming from both your front and back. Once your body gives in to their assault, everything starts to blur at the edges, from your sight to your thoughts. You melt in their hands, softening under their touch as they take their pleasure from you.

They begin to fuck you in earnest, breath punched out of you with every thrust, and when Ghost takes control by grabbing a fistful of your hair, it sends waves of something through your stomach. The loud whine that comes from you is filthy.

"Always meltin' into a puddle over a firm hand, pet. Isn't tha' right?" He asks you as if you could even dream of answering. Your tongue is heavy in your dry mouth, and throat like sandpaper.

"Ready to make Price come? Choke his cock with tha' vice-like cunt, love. Wrench it outta him, take every drop of his cum, and then take mine."

Who are you to disobey such an edict?

The snarl Price lets out is animalistic when you squeeze him snugly, his thrusts turn jarring as he swells and stills— twitching inside of you, warmth pooling in your belly.

Only to realize that Ghost finished simultaneously.

There's a joke in there somewhere, about a couple finishing together, but you've been thoroughly fucked stupid.

Cut.

Simon takes you home— his home, and soaks you in a warm, bubble bath that smells like something he shouldn't have.

"I bough' it for you," he hums.

His callused palms knead into your sore calf muscles, hand making its way down to press into the arch of your foot.

"Don't go makin' those noises, love."

Eventually, you address the elephant in the room, and his answer makes your pulse race. "Gotta create a soft safe place f'you to land after somethin' tha' intense. Ya need to wind down, catch your breath."

He says it so casually as if it was common sense.

"Here. Drink your water." The bottle in your hands is room temperature, just how you like it.

[k-martins]

Updating mine

MY TOP TEN FAVORITE JJK SHIPPS!!!!

10. SHOKOHIME

They stole Jogo and Hanami's place because I got it into my head that Jogo is like the grumpy grandfather and Hanai is the vegan aunt of the curse family! I like them. I think it's a ship with a lot of potential. I need to consume more content, but I love the fanarts!!!

9. HIGUNANA

This crack grew in me and now I'm suffering for them after the last chapter. In a kind universe, Higuruma and Nanami adopted Yuji and they live happily and happily!!! I think the two go together a lot and the fanfics are adorable! These Old Yaoi will be the death of me!!!!

8. CHOSOYUKI

They've come down a little, but man I still love them!!! Even more so now because my thirst for Choso awakened and I started reading fanfics of him being a good big brother and I fell to my knees! I still want to write more and explore his relationship with Yuji. And God, YUKI IS AMAZING!!!! THEY DESERVED TO STAY TOGETHER, AKUTAMI YOU DAMN IT!!!!

7. HIGUKUSA

A friend on twt is feeding me higukusa art and, god, this crack (not so crack, because that "I'll protect you even if I have to die for it" from kusakabe hit me hard) has taken root in my heart! I'm also obsessed with Higuruma, so I combined the useful with the pleasant!

6. INUOKKO

THEY ARE CUTE OKAY!!!! I AM OBSESSED WITH CREATING HCS FOR THEM!!! I don't consume much of their stuff, but all the fanart I've seen is cute and their participation in the itafushi fics I read is always welcome!!! It's kind of strange to read something where they're not together…

5. NOBAMAKI

MY OPINION HAS NOT CHANGED, OKAY??? NOBAMAKI IS WONDERFUL AND I WOULD KILL TO HAVE MORE OF THEM!!! But since I saw Nobara's flashback I've been wondering if Fumi wouldn't be a good ship too? Does anyone have a fanfic/fanart of him, by the way??? ANYWAY, NOBAMAKI IS STILL MY FAVORITE!!!

4. KIRAKARI

I'M IN LOVE WITH KIRARA!!!! SHE AND HAKARI ARE THE ONLY HEALTHY THINGS IN THIS MISERABLE MANGA!!!! I love imagining what their relationship is like, writing hcs slice to life minis and drawing Kirara! But I'm getting worried because I saw someone saying that Kirara could appear in the Hakari x Urame fight to help her boyfriend and I know what's going to happen and I don't want it to happen! GEGE GET THESE DIRTY CLAWS AWAY FROM MY BABIES!!!!

3. SATOSUGU

YOU RUINED BLACK AND WHITE FOR ME, YOU DEPRESSED BITCHES!!! My friend is obsessed with them and boy can I understand! These two are tragic, with a beautiful dynamic and a happy ending(?). Plus they fucked up my Christmas Eve. I hope these two bitches are causing terror in heaven!

2. ITAFUSHI!!!!

If you've known me for more than a second, you'll know that I have an average of five outbreaks a day because of these two. This whole thing about always trying to save others even if it condemns them destroys me, okay??? Fanfics and fanarts also feed me! And I'm going to convince all my friends to ship this too so I can yell at 2am at them about little details of their dynamic! AND THEY MATCH SO MUCH!!! Of course, no more than our first place!!!!

.

.

.

EVERYONE X THERAPY!!!

Please let the deaths stop and this become canon

Honorable mention for _ Tojikuna (more because a twt artist is obsessed with them and that rubbed off on me) _ Hainana _ Toji x Mamagumi _ Okkofushi (Yuta was Megumi's first crush and you can't get that out of my head) _ Uraume x Sukuna (one-sided) _ Yuta x Maki

[brucewaynehater101]

I really need more stuff on some Joker Junior angst, along with Jason finding out about Joker Junior. Even better if you wanna pull in the whole Red Hood (Joker/Jason) Attacking Robin (Jason/Tim), both times when Robin was 15 years old and was supposed to be with someone/somewhere safe.

Hmm... I agree that more content about that would be fabulous. I especially love JJ fanart (there's some really cool ones on TikTok).

Fuck it. Here we go:

TW: torture, Joker Junior, violence, blood, flashback, dissociation, derealization, hallucinating(?)

Tim hands fly to his throat in a desperate attempt to rub away the urge to giggle. He's biting his lips hard enough to bleed in order to prevent them from twisting into a panicked grin.

He's pinned to the floor by a man using one of Joker's alias.

Just like old times, eh?

A snicker slips out at that, which only seems to enrage the man in red.

"Something funny, Placeholder?" The voice modulator in the helmet does nothing to hide the clear disdain and wrath curling through Red Hood. His grip tightens over his holsters, but he doesn't pull them out quite yet. The crimson helmet just glares down at Robin.

Red, red, red. He'd look so much better in Green.

Fuck. Note to self, Tim. JJ likes Red Hood.

Robin locks his face down at this revelation to keep a calm facade. He could try to dislodge the knives holding him hostage, but not with the perpetrator towering over him like this. "Nope. My bad, Hood. Got a little distracted. Where were we?"

The crime lord takes a few steps forward until he's next to the trapped bird. Somehow, he makes even the action squatting appear menacing. "This is the part where I torture you. Where I cut off a little bird's wings so you'll never fly again. Maybe then, B will learn."

Robin watches as Hood draws another knife. The crime lord twirls the blade between his fingers and tilts his head. There's a considering glint evident in his body language.

In a sick mockery of comfort, Red Hood trails the knife down Robin's cheek. It's too close to Joker's signs of "affection" after a round of shock treatment.

Junior shudders.

The leather jacket starts to morph into a lavender lounge coat and Tim blinks rapidly to clear his vision.

A sigh of relief escapes his lips when he's able to see Red Hood again.

The crime lord pauses. He tilts his head once more. Tim can feel the gaze studying him, but he's not sure why. He can't tell if the man is genuinely curious or if he's inspecting Robin like a bug trapped in plexiglass.

When the knife leaves his skin, Tim feels his shoulders lose an inch of tension.

"Don't get too comfortable. I've got a few questions before I snap your legs."

Tim can feel a jolt of pain flash through his legs at the claim. He grimaces at the notion of months off field.

Hood leans back onto his heels, fortunately giving the younger teen some space. It doesn't seem intentional, but it's better.

"You've been Robin for two years now?"

When Tim initially refuses to acknowledge the question, Hood raises the knife. Robin sighs and gives a nod.

The man hums and brings the hilt of the knife to his chin. The weird thinking pose blares an alarm in Tim's brain, but he can't quite piece together where he's seen it before.

"About eight months ago, the clown disappeared."

Phantom feelings of electricity run through Tim's body. His muscles twitch under the memory.

Red Hood leans closer. "Where is he?"

Tim can hear -

"You know better than that, Junior. Where's the smile for your old man?"

A desperate giggle bubbles up Tim's throat.

"Come on, son. You wouldn't want to make your mother sad, would you?"

Joker leans over Tim Junior with a wicked grin. He grips a blade and gestures to Junior's lips. "Do you want your dear old Dad to teach you to smile? Again?"

Junior shakes his head frantically as trembling lips split open in a facsimile of a smile. The motion pulls at his stitches scars.

Scars?

That's not-

Junior's smile starts to fall.

Red Hood Joker crosses his arms. "What the fuck are you smiling at?"

Junior still has a smile on his face (it can't drop), but his eyebrows furrow. "Dad?"

Joker flinches back.

Amethyst cloth flickers to bronze leather and then back again. Forest green hair morphs into a cherry red helmet. Junior watches it peer behind its shoulder before Joker's face turns back to him.

"Batman isn't here."

A cackle erupts from Junior's lips and dissolves into a fit of giggles. Joker peers at Tim Junior in confused horror. The kid turns his head more towards the man. A smile stretches and pulls the corner of his lips, highlighting the faint scars.

Junior Tim hears the man take a startled breath in.

"Batsy isn't Dad. Dad-"

Tim frowns as his gaze drifts away from the man. "I killed Dad. He's dead."

He pouts exaggeratedly before Junior dissolves into a fit of giggles. "Bam!" Both of his hands point an imaginary gun Red Hood's Joker's way. "Bam! Bam!" The hands recoil back as if actually shooting the man.

Tears start to stream down Junior's Tim's face. He fights to bring his lips away from a grin.

"Fuck." He's still grining. "Fuck!"

Red Hood, the cause of all of this, is just staring at Tim. He's observing the teen try to bring himself back to sanity inch by stupid fucking inch.

Tim's eyes dart around the room. He takes a deep breath in and, on the exhale, list something he sees. "Chair. Blender. Staff. Kni-"

Several more deep breaths in and out as he ignores all the knives in the room. "Light. Jacket. Cape. Couch. Lemon. Counter."

His hands paw at his utility breath as he keeps breathing. He grasps one of the sour candies and works on opening the wrapper. He pops it into his mouth and continues the breath exercise.

Red Hood is silent as he watches Robin pull himself back into reality.

It takes several more minutes before Robin's breaths return to normal. He lays there looking at the ceiling absolutely drained and done with this whole situation.

Finally, Tim turns his gaze to the crime lord.

"Can you just kill me already or get the fuck out?"

Red Hood responds by pulling off his helmet.

Tim blinks. Sighs. Then starts up his grounding techniques again.

[dazed-and-confused23]

Dear Hearts and Gentle People 7

Pure Indulgence 2

Summary: The only way Cooper wants any part in sharing you is if he's in charge. Hancock is fine with being ordered since he gets to be the one between your thighs. You're just along for the ride.

Pairing: The Ghoul | Cooper Howard x Female Reader / John Hancock x Female Reader

Warnings! Drinking and Drug use. Threesome. Smut and power dynamics? Blood too. Jesus this feels sinful.

Masterlist. Part 2 -> HERE

You lay on your back, head pillowed in Cooper’s lap, eyes glassy and heavy from the hit of jet Hancock had pressed to your lips on the way up the stairs of the Old State House that Hancock calls home. Cooper's scarred fingers have threaded themselves in your hair, keeping you still for the other ghoul that lays between your thighs. Your legs have been shoved up, knees swaying and twitch in the air.

"Don't be such a pussy, John," Cooper rumbles from behind you, and reaches down to pinch your nipple harshly, and he smirks when you sigh and bow off the bed, seeking more, "My girl likes it rough."

Hancock humms, and the subtle vibrations against your clit make you buck up, but John is stronger than what his lanky stature made it seem, and keeps you held down with ease. He abandons your throbbing bud with one last lingering suck, and sinks his teeth into the flesh of your thigh, making room for his hand to sneak up and shove two fingers into that beautiful, wet cunt.

Cooper watches, dark eyes focused on the way you wither and shake under the onslaught of having both of them touch you. The hand that John isn't using to finger fuck you with pushes your hip down, and he can't help but find the entire sight hot as fuck. He shifts behind you, pushing you forward so that he can bend down and seal his lips against your own in a furious kiss full of teeth and tongue. The cowboy bites your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, and the groan you make when he cleans the red liquid has his cock twitching in his boxers.

"Let a man enjoy his meal. Ain't every day that I get something as sweet as this," Hancock murmurs and flicks the tip of his to gue through your puffy folds, gathering the slick pooling from your cunt and lapping it up like the starving mutt he is.

Your mind is slow and muddled, a fantastic mixture of alcohol, chems, and blazing arousal that you lose yourself in.

"Curl your fingers up - heh, yeah, jus' like that," Cooper orders when he pulls away from your red smeared lips. Your eyes clinch shut when the tips of his fingers brush against that spongy spot hidden within your core. A broken sound of pleasure falls from your lips, and your thighs quiver when John does it again.

"Look at that, better than the smoothest hit of jet," Hancock drawls and cocks his head up to look at the other ghoul, lips twisting in a sardonic smirk, "Can I fuck her now, Sir?"

It irks him to call the other man that, but John wasn't one to pass up good things, and neither did Cooper it seemed like. So it wasn't too much of a loss.

Cooper’s grin is nasty, and he reaches out to hold the other ghoul by the jaw, the tips of his fingers digging into Hancock's jaw, and rumbled, "Ask nicely."

If John were still human, he would have blushed at the display of dominance. Instead, he grinned just as meanly back and hissed.

"Please?"

Cooper laughed, then released the other man, leaning back against the headboard in satisfaction. You squirmed under them, lips twisted up in a pout at their attention drifting away from you. Your cowpoke snickered, and waved a hand at John.

"Hurry it up, boy. The lady's gettin' impatient."

Hancock doesn't need to be told twice. He sits back on his knees and grabs his dick, and scoots forward to drag his cockhead through the mess between your legs. You whine in want, hips shifting, and looking for release. John angles himself and then slides inside your fluttering pussy with a long groan.

"Fuck," He snarled and buried his face in the crook of your neck, hips jumping forward as you clench around him. John gets lost in the feeling of your cunt, and you wrap your legs around his hips, meeting him thrust for thrust.

"She feels good, huh, John. Nice and tight like a goddamn vice," Cooper snarls above you, and the ghoul between your legs jerks a nod, his brow furrowed, and you turn your head, pressing hot, open mouthed kisses along his heated skin.

You nip his neck, tongue soothing the hurt, and you squeeze your legs around his hips, pushing him ever further. His cock brushes against that spit inside you again, and you see stars, mouth dropping open as you pant out nonsense.

It's over for the mayor when you bite him again, and then he hears your sex rough voice growl in his ear.

"Come inside me, John. I wanna feel it."

Hancock comes with a muffled shout, his shoulders shuddering as he pumps you full of seed. Your cunt greedily sucks him in, and he is left a panting mess when while you wither and cream around his cock. He doesn't get to enjoy it for long before Cooper is shoving at his shoulder.

John reluctantly pulls out and rolls to the side and watches as Coop takes his place and slides home. His teeth bared in a savage grin as he wraps a hand around your throat, leaning down and looming.

"My turn now, Sweetheart. Hope you can keep up."

[pinkrangermemes]

EPIC: The Musical

lyrics that absolutely fuck me up, feel free to change pronouns and such as needed

"A mission to kill someone's son, a foe who won't run, unlike anyone you have faced before."

"I'd rather bleed for you."

"This is the will of the gods."

"Don't make me do this."

"The blood on your hands is something you won't lose. All you can choose is whose."

"You're as old as he was when I left for war."

"How could I hurt you?"

"I'm just a man who's trying to go home."

"When does a man become a monster?"

"When does the reason become the blame?"

"Forgive me."

"We should try to find a way no one ends up dead."

"You can relax, my friend."

"Think of all that we have been through. We'll survive what we get into."

"This life is amazing when you greet it with open arms."

"I see in your face there is so much guilt inside your heart."

"Have you forgotten to turn off your heart? This is not you."

"Have you forgotten your purpose? Let me remind you."

"Don't forget that you're a warrior of a very special kind."

"Don't disappoint me."

"What gives you the right to deal a pain so deep?"

"Don't you know that pain you sow is pain you reap?"

"Your life now is in my hand."

"A trade, you see. Take from me like you took from me."

"You shall be the final man to die."

"It's just one life to take."

"When we kill him our journey's over."

"Captain?"

"You've hurt me enough."

"When I kill you, my pain is over."

"Mark my words now. This is not the end."

"Remember them."

"Who hurts you?"

"If nobody hurt you, be silent."

"He's still a threat until he's dead."

"Finish it."

"What good would killing do, when mercy is a skill more of this world could learn to use?"

"The blood we shed, it never dries."

"I am your darkest moment."

"I am the infamous _______!"

"This way, you won't disappoint me."

"This way, you won't waste my time."

"Unlike you, every time someone dies, I'm left to deal with the strain."

"I'll remind you, I saw you as a friend, but now we're done."

"This way, you won't plague my life."

"This way, you'll close the door and have your damn goodbye."

"Since you claim you're so much wiser, why's your life spent all alone?"

"You're alone!"

"This day, you sever your own head."

"This day, you lost it all. Consider this as my goodbye."

"Don't forget how dangerous the gods are."

"How much longer 'til your luck runs out?"

"You rely on wit, and people die on it."

"I still believe in goodness."

"Lead from the heart, and see what starts."

"And what will we do when it tears us apart?"

"You're like the brother I could never do without."

"How much longer 'til your strength takes leave?"

"I can't have you planting seeds of doubt."

"Keep your friends close and your enemies closer."

"Sometimes killing is a must."

"Friends turn into foes and rivalries."

"Never really know who you can trust."

"The end always justifies the means."

"So much has changed, but I'm the same."

"I'm left without a choice and without a doubt."

"Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves."

"You are the worst kind of good 'cause you're not even great."

"You are far too nice."

"Mercy has a price."

"Unlike you, I've got no mercy left to give."

"The line between naivete and hopefulness is almost invisible."

"What have you done?"

"I am your darkest moment, the monster that always draws near."

"Remember me."

"There's only so much left we can endure."

"Think of your past and your mistakes."

"No, I'm not a player. I'm a puppeteer."

"I can hardly sleep now, knowing everything we've done."

"It's a game of wits, but you don't have to play."

"A foe like ____ is not to be messed with."

"You could be hurt or you could beat her."

"I'll help you conquer her."

"Wouldn't you like your outcome preferred?"

"Don't thank me, friend, you very well may die."

"Did you do something to them?"

"I don't know who you are or why you're here, but let me make this one thing clear."

"I've got people to protect, friends I can't neglect, so now there is no turning back."

"Back at home my wife waits for me. She's my everything, my _____."

"Maybe showing one act of kindness leads to kinder souls down the road."

"This land confuses your mind."

"All I hear are screams every time I dare to close my eyes."

"I no longer dream, only nightmares of those who've died."

"Why would you let _____ live when ruthlessness is mercy?"

"I keep thinking of the infant from that night."

"____, when you come home, I'll be waiting."

"Even if you're the last thing I see, I'll be waiting."

"I took too long."

"I'll always love you."

"Your past is always close behind."

"I see a song of past romance."

"I see portrayals of betrayal and a brother's final stand."

"I see a man who gets to make it home alive, but it's no longer you."

"We've suffered and sailed through the toughest of Hells, now you tell us our efforts were nothing?"

"I see a wife with a man who is haunting. A man with a trail of bodies."

"How has everything been turned against us?"

"How did suffering become so endless?"

"Do I need to change?"

"What if I'm the monster?"

"What if I'm the problem that's been hiding all along?"

"If I became the monster, and threw that guilt away, would that make us stronger?"

"So what if I'm the monster lurking deep below?"

"If I gotta drop another infant from a wall in an instant so we all don't die, then I'll become the monster."

"I'll become the monster."

[zenless-zideblog-zero]

Girls night VS. Boys Night

Zhu-Yuan: *In a High speed chase with a vehicle*THIS IS PUBSEC! PULL YOUR VEHICLE OVER NOW!

Nicole: *in passenger seat Old Smokey, the car Zhu-yuan's chasing* Be careful! This thing hasn't been serviced in a good while!

Piper: *Driving* I can tell. These tires haven't been rotated in at least six years, and I can't begin to imagine how old the oil is. You should take better care of this old girl~

Belle: Less talk, More Speed!

Corin: Master Proxy, are we in trouble! If I get caught Victoria Housekeeping's reputation will be Ruined! WAH!

Belle: Corin, Sweetheart, please listen to me when I say Ellen and Lucy should have a distraction coming!

~~~~~

Wise: That's ... Twelve Ice Damage, and Nineteen Slashing damage.

Anton: Brometheus Fought the good fight! He believes his friends will save the world, even in his Death!

Wise: Stellar, Arctunoct the Frost-Bringer has just knocked your dear friend unconscious, and the Rituals Almost Complete! He give you the most vile, toxic smirk as he pulls his spear from Brometheus! What do you do?

Billy: Uh, how bad does he look?

Wise: He's decently hurt, but so is the rest of your team. You're the last in the initiative order, and if he's still up when your turn ends, the world may just end.

Billy: Okay then ... Stellar draws his hand-crossbows, looks Arctunoct in his dumb face, and proclaims "You are nothing but a selfish fool! And the Void of your heart will be pierced with STARLIGHT!" and will fire his crossbows.

Billy: And that's- NAT 20!

The Table erupts in cheers

Wise: Okay, how much damage?

Billy: Uuhhm, first I'm throwing Smite on that with my last level two slot and Lightbringer's final Divine Charge, so that's ...

Billy: Twelve piercing, and ... FOURTY THREE RADIANT!

The Table erupts into louder cheers

Wise: okay! WOW! That's a LOT of damage! uh- You Lightbringer's bolt CRACKLE with the fissile power of the stars, bleaching the shadows from view, stirking him square in the heart!

Wise: He clutches the metal piercing his chest, falls to one knee ... *grinning* and Laughs ...

Billy: WHAT!

Anton: NONONO!

Seth: HOW TOUGH IS THIS GUY!

Wise: Spitting up blood Arctunoct wheezes out "And so the light is swallowed by shadow ... a brave show young Paladin, but this ... THIS IS WHERE YOUR SUN BURNS OUT!"

Billy: Hold on! I have one more attack!

Wise: Yes, yes you do.

Billy: okay so that's ... Thirteen.

Seth: Bless!

Billy: Uh, Fifteen?

Anton: Brometheus's Inspiration!

Wise: And inspiration. You just need to roll a three.

Billy: ... I GOT THREE!

The Table erupts in even LOUDER cheers

Wise: Okay, Billy?

Billy: Yeah?!?

Wise: *Writing something down* I'm writing down Exactly how much health he has left, And then I want you to roll your damage.

Billy: Okay ... it's just the one roll ...

Billy: *Rolls Damage*

Billy: Okay,so that's Four damage, plus Five for my dexterity, and one for the Enchantment.

Wise: ... the first shot brought this beast of a man to his knees, but he still breathed.

Wise: Billy ... he had only nine Health after it, How do you Wipe him out?

*Seth, Anton, and Billy Freak the fuck out*

Billy: okAy! Okay! Okay! As he's laughing from the first blow, Stellar whispers under his breathe "It's always Darkest before the Dawn." And send this last bolt right into his neck, causing him to fall into the ritual, and is eviscerated as the spell goes haywire, unfinished!

Wise: Perfect. As his body is wrenched apart by the arcane Energies misfiring, you feel in your heart as you've accomplished what you were meant to do. The World is saved, the Sun just peeks over the horizon, as if to say thank you, to the knight that has let it blaze one more day.

[fawnsflowerbed]

Hiiiii omg!!!!

I love ur works sm!! Especially the dog hybrid ones!!

I’m gonna infect u with my latest brainrot!!! Soft sleepy Leon (im picturing Re6 because that slutty man has me in a chokehold!!) who needs cuddles NOW!!! Imagine breaking down every bit of his stress and melting him into a puddle with back rubs!! Giving him kisses all over his face and making him give you a cute smile!!!! Putting his head on your lap and scratching his scalp!!!! Make that man into a moaning mess even before he proposes that you fuck him to sleep!!! (Hes totally a fan of cuddlefucking, he is so touchstarved he needs ur hands around his waist and kisses to the back of the neck while you peg him) I NEED HIMMMM!!! I NEEEDDDD HIMMMM!

can i be 🌷 anon? Be prepared for more brainrot to come!!! >:DDD MWAHAHAHAHAHA

Welcome to the cherubs, Tulip!!! :D Looking forward to seeing more of you!!!!

Okay now usually I'm not familiar with some of this territory, but DUDEEEEEEEEEEEEEE NSFW AHEADDD ANY GENDER READER CAN BE USED

RE6 Leon needs so much love. He's so tired, so worn and exhausted, and your affection and care is all he wants after years of fighting. Please kiss the creases of his forehead, rub his shoulders and caress his neck. Run your nails down his scalp oh so gently and tell him how much he means to you. Soon enough he's kissing you slowly and softly, stubble scratching at your cheek and throat as he pleads.

"Just.. I need more. I need all of you. Please, sweetheart.." He's easing you on top of him, spearing you onto his cock in one slow movement. Your warmth envelops him in a way he can't explain, lulling his worn head back into the pillow. You're leading him through lazy kisses in a slow makeout session, resting your ear against his chest with meek whimpers from you and quiet groans from him. Large arms wrap around you to hold you close, soaking up the scent of your hair and skin, reveling in the comfort of being back with you. His leaky tip nudging against every ridge of you, drawing you closer as he loses himself to the siren call of sleep until you're cockwarming him well into the morning.

IF YOU'RE NOT INTO YE PEGGING TURN BACK NOW! I'M KISSING YOU BUHBYE!

Someone DESPERATELY needs to peg this man, I can't explain it. He needs someone to take the reins for a while. PLEASE lessen his weight, lighten his load.

Nuzzle close to him as you give nice, slow, long thrusts into him, easing steadily and carefully. Let him feel vulnerable enough to whimper, to be the one taking it instead of giving it for once. You're holding him so gently, his head nestled to the side against the pillow and back slightly arching whenever you whisper in his ear and kiss the side of his neck. He needs someone to take care of him when he can't hold himself up anymore. Usually he's the more dominant one, definitely, but something about letting you languidly fuck him into slumber this way makes him feel so open and safe.

UGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH BANGS MY FIST AGAINST THE FLOOR!!!!!!! I LOVE THIS OLD MAN!!!!

[captain-n-crunchies]

AllMight Thots

Allmight x reader ( A little nsfw)

Allmight was the perfect man. Never letting you get groceries alone, always has a hand on the lower part of your back for protection, so emotionally available what more could you want?

Well.. when a man so gentle with you those thoughts of a more mature relationship develop in your mind, what if your big strong man felt a little pissed off today? Villains coming up the masses, students get hurt a lot easier equaling more paperwork, and he didn't take out the trash and do the dishes so now you his pretty little darling is nagging him; his resolve slipping each word as you parade your thick ass around his penthouse.

" And then you couldn't even clean the kitchen a little Tohi? Like I understand it early but-"

" Do you ever shut the hell up dear?" His body now relaxed but, the tense is thick.

Getting up from the couch and pouring himself a smooth glass of whiskey, only a little shot before he downs it and turns his blue eyes towards your confused frame. Stalking towards you slowly you back away now hitting the counter his body traps you in as filthy words flew out his mouth

"The hell am I asking you that for? Even with my hand over than filthy mouth you still can't shut up. But maybe I need to reinforce some old rules into you hm?"

" N-no I was just set back a few minutes cause of these dishes and-"

" Dear, I'm going to say this as respectfully as I can at this moment, but I don't give a fuck about those dishes. What I seem to care about is what your safeword for the next few hours?"

And that your gentleman of a husband said for the next few hours as he degrades every little thing about with his hips pushing against your ass your body up and down, an arm around your throat tightening every time he forces another thick glob of cum in your guts. Without fail maneuvering your body in every position he feels will set you straight he pushes and pushes your body to feel his cock; every inch, vein, and the tip scrapping against your walls draws heaps and heaps of moan from your pretty throat

" Take it- ah fuck TAKE IT"

Moans and pleas for him to slow down go unheard as he pushes deep inside you, your thighs now creamy and wet wraps around his hips and your one thrust away from the verge of passing out when you feel warm again, another load falls into like nothing, that is when he pulls out and a waterfall of cum gushes out that poor pussy of yours. Too bad for you because he wasn't done yet baby

" Can't have none of this leaking hm dear? I still got a few more loads to fill but your pussy filled quite nicely"

Looking up at him you gulp as his thick cock lays upon those chubby cheeks of yours, precum oozing from the tip onto your nose

" Open up darling, you've still got two more holes but as your husband and not some fuck buddy, I let you suckle on this till your energy up"

What a gentle man he is.

A.N: ( I don't know abt yall but why smut is easier to write than fluffy ideas? But tell me if this is good because I got some ideas and remember I love yall!)

[icarusredwings]

Baby talk 2/2

Trying something new. Be kind (take 2)

A very little wade fic

Ft. Wo-wo, Mama, and 'essy

For @sirwadewilsonfromimgur because apparently people like my brain

"Logan? It's a bit late, what's wrong?" The voice asks over the phone. He wasn't sure why he called her. Why he called Jean. But he felt like she might know what to do.

"Yeah.. sorry, i-.. It's nothing.. I'll go if you're busy - I just.." he mumbles, phone in his shoulder as he begins boiling some water for the pasta.

"Logan... tell me." She says, in a way of someone who knows he won't tell her if he feels like he's bothering her.

"So, I'm... er.." He turns to see Wade laying in his pile of stuffies, watching the movie with large eyes and a curious o shaped mouth. Right now, they were at the part where she was singing in her secret cave, Wade's eyes glued to the screen in awe, as if he hadn't seen this movie 40 times already. "Babysitting... and I don't really know what to do?"

"Oh.. okay. Well how old are they?"

"Young. Really young. Barely talks." He says, trying not to sound nervous out of his mind as he preps the chicken to be cooked.

"That can be as young as 12 months. Are they potty trained?" She asks, trying to help best she could over the phone. Not like Logan would ever let them see him like this anyway.

"God I fucking hope so." Is all he can awnser with a big sigh. "I don't know, I just.. it's so much different then the kids at school."

Chuckling, he could feel that 'well no duh' look in her eyes and that smug smile. "Well, I would hope that 12 month olds are different than 12 year olds. That's 12:1, Logan." She says, and he grunts, nodding.

"Yeah, yeah, I just.. you read parenting books, right? What do they like? Babys, I mean."

Instantly Wade turns, Giving him a small glare and a pount. "MmMmh.."

"My bad, kids this little." He didn't need to understand the whines to know exactly what he was saying.

'I'm not a baby' He always said that.. man.. Wade not talking felt so weird, and it freaked him out, getting to the point he would subconsiously check to make sure he was still consious and that he COULD talk if wanted, but he didn't.

Wade was just quiet today. Al must think it's a blessing but to Logan? This was a nightmare.

"I do" She laughs again, giggling. "Why? Are they misbehaving?"

"Well... No.. but i'm afraid I might..." He mutters, blowing his cover at pretending not to be anxious about this entire thing.

"Mama?" He hears, indirectly awnsering. "No bub. Not your mama."

The woman giggles again from the side conversation. "I'm sure you'll be fine. Do you want me to-"

"NO!!" He screams, watching as Al got spooked, drawing her pistol on Wade, and for once, she had a good shot. "Get off of me!!"

"Well, jeez Logan, you could have just -"

"Sorry! I have to go!!"

Beep.

"Logan??.. He hung up on me." Jean says, miles away. Logan just knows it.

"Althea! It's Wade!! It's just Wade!!" He shouts, quickly coming over to take the gun from her. "He's just.. really little right now. God damn kid, are you tryna die!?" He yells at him, seeing him only try to curl up more into the woman, tearing up.

"Althea, why don't you go sleep in the room, okay?"

The older woman grumbles, shifting. "Baby you can't lay on me like that. You're too big." She says, much calmer now as Logan pulled Wade off of her and set him back on the floor.

"You're too big for that, kid, you're gonna hurt her!" He tells him, only making Wade feel worse.

"..mama?"

"No! No mama. She dosn't feel good and-"

"Logan. Enough. I can take care of myself." She mutters, groaning as she got up.

".. Mama?" Wade says again, his mind very one tracked at the moment. He knew three things. That he wanted held. He liked Mama. And he didn't know why he was so upset with him. Did he hurt her? Was she okay? Wade wished he could ask, but no words seemed to come out when he tried.

"Hi, Honey, Mama's gonna go take a nap. Behave. Both of you." The old woman mumbles, cupping his face and giving him a kiss on the head, stumbling towards the room. "Wake me up when dinner's ready."

"Yes ma'am.." Logan mutters, glancing down at Wade, watching as he wiped his tears, pulling Fluffy and his legs into his chest, sniffling.

Swallowing, he wasn't even sure if he would understand if he apologized, but he needed to anyway. "Hey.. I'm sorry for yelling at you.. I thought... I thought that.." He rubs his hand into his face with an embaressed grumble. "..Honestly, I don't know what I was thinking. You can't even.. well, no, that's not right. It still would hurt, and I guess I just didn't want Mama to hurt you and- "

Wade wasn't even looking at him. He was staring at the Tv, curled up, and didn't seem to be litsening.

Sighing heavily, he looked at the gun in his hand, deciding he should put it up. It wasn't something he should have down with Althea not feeling the greatest and Wade not even being able to put together sentences.

Walking away, he puts it in the closet, making sure to lock it like it was supposed to. God, there were so many weapons in here. It wouldn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that these guns weren't just for hunting or a hobby. No one had this much ammo when owning a gun collection that was "just for show."

Making his way to the kitchen, he stirred the boiling noodles, dumping them in the colander.

"Wo-wo?... wo-wo!"

"Woah woah?" He asks himself, looking up to see Wade pointing at the tv. Prince Eric had picked up Ariel and was now twirling her while smiling.

"Wo- wo?"

Tilting his head, he thought that perhaps this was cool to Wade. "Yeah, Wow buddy. That's amazing." He says but Wade gave him a dirty look. One that usually was his 'Bitch? Thats not what I said' squish of his non existing brows.

"Wo-wo. Ups?"

"Ups?"

"Wo-wo, Ups?" He grins, putting his hands up as he did the grabby motions again.

Oh. That made more sense. "You want me to do that to you?"

Wade nods, crawling about two feet before doing the hands again.

"Mmh... okay, but just once. And then I have to cook. Deal?"

Putting the butter in the pan, he came to pick him up, raising him up. The small squeal and the wide, sparkly eyes said all that Logan needed to know. When put back down, Wade claps.

"Yaay!"

Logan couldn't help but smirk. Really? That's all he wanted? "Heh.. yeah.. Yay." Was it that simple? This.. easy??

Vanessa made it sound so much more complicated when she talked about it. But then again.. I guess Vanessa wasn't as strong as him either, so it must have been difficult for her to hold him. The idea of her holding a 6'2 man on her hip made him snort.

She was strong, obviously, most dancers had to be, but dancers were lean and nimble as well. Logan was much more on the heavier side, so it was far easier for him.

"More?"

"More ups?" He asks, despite seeing his hands reach up. It wasn't the fact that he didn't know. Rather, he wanted confirmation.

"Wo-wo, Ups!" He smiles, excited and happy to be given the attention.

"Ok, ok, but last time, alright?" With another nod, Logan picks him up again. This time, Wade wraps his arms around him tight, nuzzling him again.

Sighing, Logan rubs his back, letting his chin go to the top of his head. "I can't hold you forever, you know... I have stuff to do.." he mumbles, bouncing just a bit in his knees, keeping his arm under his bottom so he didn't drop him.

"You're a good kid, Wade but I really do have to cook."

The whine that comes out of Wade is desperate for attention, lonely even. As if he just told Wade he was leaving and never coming back ever again.

"I come."

"No, sweetheart.. you'll get burned." The bouncing stops as he tries to set Wade down but he holds onto him like a kitten whos afraid of being dropped too far.

"Come on, let go. You'll be okay in here. See look. She's using a fork as a comb. Isn't that funny?" Logan says, trying to distract him enough to stay put. Vanessa wasn't kidding about the wanting held part. He was quite literally clinging to him like his life depended on it.

"Alright, get off. Here- do you want this? Take it." Putting him down, he took his hoodie off with him, letting him hold it as he stood. "There. Now stay. Im trying to make you some noodles, bub."

Finally getting to walk away, the look on his face hurt his chest.. just a bit anyway. The way he watched him go with such sad eyes and clutching the hoodie close to him. As if he was abandoning him.

Eh. He'd be fine. He could still see him in the kitchen so there wasn't really any reason to worry.

In said small kitchen, Logan put together the sauce, butter, and some seasonings, starting to stir it when he glanced towards the tv, doing a double take because Wade was missing.

"Wade?" He says, only to be met with him tugging on his jeans. The sight was something he wasn't prepared for, Wade put his hoodie on, and it was too big for him by at least two sizes. "Wo-wo!"

"Woah woah huh... wait, is that me?" He asks, tilting his head. "It's an L, bud. L" he made the L noise for him. "Lo-Lo."

"Wo-wo."

His eyes roll. "What ever. Come on, kid get out of the kitchen. You're gonna burn yourself."

This lasted about 2 seconds before Wade came back in. "Ups?"

At this point, dinner was practically done. Now, just have to finish it up and serve. "Fine... but don't touch anything."

"Yaaay!!" He claps, reaching up only to get scooped up and put on his hip, holding him with one arm, the other stiring.

"Yeah... yay.. fuckin' brat.." Wade was always getting what he wanted.

Wade giggles, holding his neck and once again snuggling up to him.

"Yeah, yeah, that's enough. Just be good. Don't touch. Ouches."

"Ow?"

"Yup. Ow."

So now, here was Logan, an almost 400 pound man holding 150 pound 6'2 guy on his hip, stiring and plating dinner. With his head on his shoulder, Wade calmed down immensely from being carried, just watching what Logan was doing and silent.

Dipping his finger into the sauce, Logan held it up. "Do you like this?"

Taking the finger in his mouth, Wade immediately made a 'mmmh' noise, nodding.

"Good. Do you want it on the side or on top of your noodles?"

" 'op."

" 'kay." Putting the sauce on top, he began to make Als.

" 'essy?"

"Huh?" He asks, not sure.

" 'essy??" Wade points to the plate.

"No. Mama's."

"Mama?"

"Mhm. Wo- wo's." Logan points to his own.

"Ooooh! Yummies."

"Yup.. Yummies..." he says, only to become embarrassed, face heating up as he grunts. Man... damn this baby talk..

____

A little later, after dinner, Wade came out of the room, looking almost ashamed, wearing Logan's x-men athletics department hoodie, the back saying 'HOWLETT' in big letters.

He was playing with his hands as he came to him. "Hey.."

Glancing away from the Tv, Logan was a bit confused, Not now sure if he was still small or not. "Hey?"

"I-.. im sorry.. for.. ealier. I know you don't like that stuff. I don't really.. know.." It seemed the farther he got into the apology, the tighter his voice got, his eyes becoming glossy.

"Hey-hey, stop. Why are you crying? You don't have anything to be sorry about. You're alright. Everything's okay, Wade. Sit." He says, patting next to him, but he just shook his head, rubbing his arm.

"No. I-it's not okay. You didn't ask for that. And you don't like t-taking care of me like that-" he wipes his eyes with the sleeves, clearly feeling bad about being so small infront of him.

"What? No, hold on. I never said that. I'll always take care of you." He says, a little frustrated that he would think differently.

"B-but you-"

"Shut the fuck up and come here."

Swallowing, He hesitantly sat on his lap, letting Logan pull him close and kiss the tears from his eyes. "Don't you ever say that shit again, you hear me? If I didn't want to take care of you, I would have left a long time ago. It was just.. odd at first. Because I've never seen it before. That's all. Just because something is new doesn't mean it's bad. You taught me that, idiot."

Sniffling, he shifts to nuzzle up under his chin again, curling up to be as small as possible, letting the man hold him in his arms. "I-i don't.." he heaves.

Logan is patiant, holding his cheek and rubbing his breath. "Shh.."

"I-i don't even know why I did that. I just.. it just happened." He whispers.

"That's alright. You don't have to know everything... a little heads up would be nice though." He mutters, pulling him up more to rub his cheek on him the way he liked.

Sniffling again, he smiles softly. "I'll try.. worst case senerio I just ask you to pick me up."

"Tell ya what. You ask me to pick you up and I will. Just... not during missions. I don't wanna have to slice a fucker in half because he shot you when you're small."

Wade giggles, his heart rate finally settling down as he listened to Logan's. "No promises.." letting out a big sigh, he let his body relax, taking a few deep breaths, nestling into him, the smell of the hoodie making him tired. "..I love you.. a-And thanks for not letting Al shoot me.."

Logan's eyes widened. He did hear his apology. A soft half lidded smile came to his face, glad that it wasn't for nothing. "I love you too.... cry baby."

"Can you guys shut up? Wheel of fortunes on." Al says, feeling much better that she too has had a nap and a good meal.

Sigh... that was their Althea.. keeping them humble.

The little giggle that came from him and the rythemed breathing following told Logan that he would be stuck in this spot for quite a while. Oh well... He was always up for a good nap.

"...Morons." The old woman says with a hint of fondness in her voice, hearing not one but two sets of snores. It was music to her ears.

[weebsinstash]

You know, not that I've officially watched the movie or the second or third season of JJK yet or anything, but, I was sitting on the concept of, could you even fuckin imagine if Reader was like another friend in the Gojo/Geto group in their high school days but at some point, you're sent away, with my current running idea that the Reader falls into such a depression that they struggle to use jujutsu anymore and the higher ups have them sent away to either train or not be a danger to anyone any more

Fast forward to the future where Gojo and Geto have had their falling out and Satoru bumps into you again after having literally forgotten about you, and as all the memories come rushing back to him, all the pleasant nostalgia, the sudden crushing realization that oh my god he missed you, why didn't he even think about you, you hit him with, "so do you know where I can find Suguru?"

and Gojo is so so so SO fucking pissed because it turns out that after Gojo lost touch with you, Geto actually maintained contact, and you've been in touch all these years, and Gojo is just standing there with clenched fists about to crack his own gritting teeth as you're all smiles, "-and this keychain is actually from last year when we met up for some coffee and we talked about me coming back-" and Gojo is hit with the double whammy combo of, not only have you kept in touch with Geto all this time, GETO kept in contact with YOU and straight up fucking kept you to himself, did not even give half a fuck about connecting you back with Satoru, what seeing you again might have healed for him after Riko, nothin, just Geto keeping you to himself. Satoru ready to actually throw hands with his old friend as he asks you why you never reached out to him, what does Geto have that he doesn't, and you just look hurt and confused. "Suguru said you never wanted to come. You always had better things to do..." and you just look so sad, almost like you miss him--

Satoru over here 'SUGURU WHEN I CATCH YOU SUGURU' because you were literally sent away when he NEEDED YOU and you NEEDED HIM (in his mind) and Geto was over here LYIN "oh, no, Gojo says he doesn't have time for pointless things like these" as he took you to the zoo, the aquarium, arcades, totally not vicariously living his teenage years again with you, totally not borderline dating you, totally not amassing his own stalker shrine of photos and trinkets and the occasional piece of your hair

and of course, when Geto finally shows his true hand and has to be taken down, and you're there screaming and sobbing and mourning your only and closest friend, who else but Gojo is there? Who else is there that you know that you can even talk to? Satoru gets to play the good guy and help dry your tears and hold you as you're absolutely devastated.

Obviously now that you're a screaming crying mess, and you had all those issues in the past, and maybe just maybe Geto may have choked out amongst all the blood asking for Gojo to take care of you, Satoru can't possibly let you go your own way again. He isn't a boy who will just idly sit back while you're taken away anymore, either. He's a grown man now, and he can protect you. He's Satoru Gojo, the strongest, the enlightened one, and, now, you're his only true friend, and he'll keep you safe and sound for as long as you draw breath, even if you don't want him to

[babyhatesreality]

The Sinner and the Saint Ch 15

Pairing: Mob!Boss Bucky x f!reader

Warnings: NSFW, f!reader, language, reader is referred to by her stage name of Angel, reader is an exotic dancer, pet names, everybody has secrets, reader is insecure, dominant mob boss Bucky, submissive reader, sir/daddy kink, discussion of violence, blood (not reader's), oral (F receiving), discussion of mafia related violence (not graphic).

YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. MINORS DNI. THIS IS AN 18+ STORY ONLY AND IS NSFW. I DO NOT CONSENT FOR ANY OF MY WORKS TO BE COPIED, REPRINTED, OR TRANSLATED ONTO ANY PLATFORM EXCEPT MY OWN. Likes, comments and reblogs deeply appreciated.

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

As you awoke, you wrinkled your nose. The sheets were too warm, it was too bright, and....you were awake. Ugh. Then you heard him chuckle.

You groggily peeled one eye open to find Bucky on his side, head propped up against his hand, watching you sleep. The memories of last night came flooding back- as did the bloom of pain in your butt- and you closed your eyes again, smiling sleepily.

"What are you grinning at?" Bucky asked, grinning himself.

You stretched luxuriously before you answered. "Hmmmm," you purred, toying with him. "Grinning at you."

"And why, pray tell?"

"Oh, that you're going to be your wonderfully insufferable self in about thirty seconds."

"Insufferable?" he said back. You could clearly hear the grin in his voice despite having your eyes closed. "I'll show you insufferable." With a growl and a speed that did not make sense, he dove under the covers and collected his "morning after" tax. You had slightly more sense this morning than last night, and you made an attempt to muffle your pleasure by turning your head and biting down on the pillow, but the gutteral cries still ripped from your throat would have the neighbors talking.

As you were coming down from your high, you became aware that Bucky hadn't moved yet. You turned your head, still panting hard, and looked at him. He was still positioned in between your thighs, the sheet resting comically on top of his head, but what made you giggle was the pout on his face. "What?" was all you could get out without straight up laughing at his petulance.

"I don't like it when you're quiet," he mumbled, before wrinkling his nose like a five year old being told he can't have candy.

"Buck, I was trying to be a considerate neighbor. Pretty sure that the sounds I was making last night are going to cause a couple people to do a wellness check. Or possibly send them into therapy."

"Good for them. Mental health is important. So is being loud."

You rolled your eyes and sighed. "Well, you won't have to worry about me being quiet anymore," you said, a nervous thrill forming in your belly. Here we go...

The slow smile that spread across your man's face instantly turned those nerves into your Bucky drug, zipping through your entire body like electricity. "Oh really?" Bucky said casually, beginning to draw gentle patterns on the inside of your thigh with a feather light touch. You gasped. Good lord, you'd just orgasmed, and here you were, ready to go again just by a simple touch. What spell did this man have you under? "I don't need to worry about you being quiet any more?"

"Mmm-mmm."

"Tell me why."

"You know why."

He leaned back down, his warm sweet breath tickling your core as he spoke. "Tell me," he whispered onto your skin. "Say it."

"I'll move in with you," you said in a breathless voice.

"And that deserves another payment," he whispered victoriously, before spreading his wide, flat tongue over your folds. You couldn't help but cry out loudly at his sudden assault, which only spurred him on.

After blinding orgasm number 2, he crawled up next to you while you were still recovering. "Now THAT'S the way to start my day," he said, thoroughly pleased with himself. You could only turn your head and stare at him, completely fucked out of your mind. "And I'll get to every morning now 'cause you're moving in." You giggled at the self-satisfied look on his face, which made him wrap his arms around you and pull you in close. You sighed happily, then leaned against his chest.

"When do you want me to start moving?" you asked, snuggling into his muscular chest.

"Today."

"Be serious."

"I am."

"Bucky, I can't move today."

"Why not?"

"Baby, it's going to take time. I have to give my landlord notice, get boxes, get a change of address..."

"No you don't."

"Yes, I do. I know you've probably never had to worry about that kind of stuff before but-"

"Excuse me?" That tone made you lift up your head and look at him. He had one eyebrow cocked. Oh boy. Your ass couldn't take another round with that look just yet. You started backtracking and quickly.

"I just mean that you've got all your...people to handle stuff like that, and that it's going to take ME a little bit of time to..." you trailed off as the eyebrow went higher.

"Do you honestly think that I don't have everything ready to go?" he asked, tilting his head away in confusion. "That all I need to do is make one phone call and you'll be living at my place- where you belong- by 6pm tonight?"

Your mouth dropped open, and he chuckled. At least his eyebrow wasn't cocked at you any longer. "But...but..." you stammered.

"Yes, your butt is coming too. In fact, I insist on it," he said cheekily, laughing again, when you playfully swatted his stomach.

"Bucky, you can...?"

"Of course, Angel. I've just been waiting for you to say the word."

"How....long have you had this set up for?"

"Seven weeks."

"So one week after we got together?"

"Yup."

"You're crazy."

"Pfft. Yeah. I'M crazy. Big talk coming from the girl who's moving in with a mafia don."

He just laughed when you growled and jumped on top of him, kissing him with everything you had. After a lovely and heated make out session where you'd be lying if you said tasting yourself on his lips didn't turn you on a little, Bucky flipped you both so you were trapped underneath him. You didn't complain one bit.

"Look Angel, I need to take care of some business today, okay? The movers can be here in an hour, and I'm guessing you'd like to direct the traffic around here, yes?" You nodded, making him grin at guessing correctly. "You stay here, and I'll be back as soon as I can." He kissed the tip of your nose, which made you blush and giggle like a schoolgirl. "I mean it, stay put. You learned your lesson last night, right?"

"Oh, most definitely, Daddy."

"Good girl. I'll send Clint with the movers so you don't have to worry about anything, okay?"

"I trust you."

That made Bucky stop in his tracks. He just looked at you with his warm, disbelieving, gorgeous blue eyes, before they turned as soft as a sunset. He leaned down, laying his cheek against yours. "Thank you for your trust," he whispered, before kissing the corner of your mouth sweetly. "It means more than you could know."

"Daddy?"

"Hmmm?"

"Would it be okay if I took a little walk before they got here, just to work out some of the kinks before I end up packing up my entire life in- I'm guessing- six hours?"

"Okay, number one, you won't be lifting a finger. You'll be telling people what to do. And two, I'LL work out your kinks. Believe me." Your saucy horn dog was back. You giggled and gasped as he kissed THAT spot on your neck.

"Okay, but seriously," you finally gasped out. "Just a little walk?" Bucky pulled back, looking you right in the eye. "Please?" you asked, tilting your head in that way you knew he couldn't resist. He rolled his eyes playfully. Bingo.

"Fine. A LITTLE walk. But keep your phone on you and don't leave the area. Kapeesh?"

"Yes, sir, Don Barnes."

"See, the thing is, when you say stuff like that, it means that if you don't obey me, you're giving me permission to do stuff like chop off your fingers and give you cement shoes and sleep with the fishes."

"Wow. I'm not even technically living with you yet and you're already threatening to kill me. Honeymoon's over, amirite?"

"You little brat."

"YOUR little brat."

"Damn straight. So what are you gonna do?"

"Keep my phone on me, stay close by, and be back before the movers get here." You batted your eyelashes sweetly at him. "And think about all the ways that I can thank you when you come home tonight." With a feral growl, Bucky attacked THAT spot again.

*****

Twenty minutes later, you had showered and cleaned up any remaining evidence from last night. The movers would be here in ten minutes. Now was your chance.

You meant every word you had said- you took your phone, and you stayed close by. But if Bucky knew you were heading for that alley from last night, you knew you wouldn't be able to sit down for a month. You moved as quickly as you could in the bright sunlight without attracting attention from the now busy street.

Looking around you as surreptitiously as you could, you slid into the small side street where the voice had disappeared last night. You scanned up and down, making sure no one had followed you or anything crazy like that. Part of you felt like you were being way over paranoid, but the tiny nagging voice in your head wouldn't shut up. Bucky's words last night kept playing in your head, making you think that somehow, he was fully aware of the man that had been behind you. And even though you were still mostly convinced that it had been just another dumb creep, you were dating Bucky. And Bucky WAS....Bucky.

You began searching the alley with your eyes. You weren't even sure what you were looking for. Some...evidence? Of the guy being there? Why had he disappeared so suddenly? Wasn't that weird? Had he been catcalling someone else and turned the corner, following her instead, and you were completely wrong? There were no discernible footprints or anything that looked amiss at all. For fuck's sake, it was a grimy alley in New York City- what did you think you were going to find? You began to feel stupid and paranoid. You were just jumpy. A lot of emotions in a short amount of time combined with not knowing aspect of your boyfriend's dangerous life was making you draw erroneous conclusions. The sunlight suddenly came over the edge of the tall, brick walkway wall.

And that's when you saw the teeny, tiny, swipe of discoloration on the red brick. If the sunlight hadn't hit it just right, anyone would have missed it. You stepped closer. It was blood. And it wasn't very old.

*****

Bucky sighed heavily, leaning back in his large, leather chair, his hands tented in front of him, and his index fingers resting against his lips. "There was nothing on him?" he confirmed.

"Nothing. I stripped him completely before getting rid of him. Went through every pocket. Didn't even have a phone. There was nothing."

"Any markings? Tattoos?"

"None. He was clean. Hired from the outside, would be my guess."

"Any clue how long he'd been tracking her?"

"No sir. Never got wind of him until last night. Whoever he was, he was clearly waiting to make his move. She's never been alone long enough for him to get a chance until last night."

"You send the pictures to Steve and Sam?"

"And Natasha. Thought he might be someone from the club, possibly some stalker or something."

"Good thinking. Send it to Fury and Clint too. Tell them to notify me immediately if they can ID the fucker."

"Yes sir. I apologize that they even got that close."

"Not your fault. She won't be making that mistake again, trust me. But I want your right hand on the case now too. Understood?"

"Yes, Mr. Barnes."

"Alright. Good. Keep me posted. I want to know everything about this bastard. I want to know if he liked cats or dogs, the name of his second grade teacher- hell, I want to know what fucking toothpaste he used. Got it?"

"Yes sir. Forty eight hours and you'll have it all."

Bucky chuckled mirthlessly. "Goddamn, it's good to have the best working for me. Alright. Make an appointment with Steve for two days from now and go get some rest."

"Yes sir."

Bucky waited until he had slipped out of the hidden doorway in the office, before leaning back in his chair and heaving a huge, angry sigh. FUCK. This hadn't been what he wanted to hear. He resisted the urge to pick up the priceless Ming vase on the pedestal in the corner of his office and hurtle it against the wall in anger. He needed to channel his rage into this new problem. Because he would be damned if anyone ever got this close to you again. He fucking swore it on his life.

He pressed a button on his desk. "Steve," was all he said. In five seconds, his most trusted friend and caporegime stepped into the office. "Natasha out there?" Bucky asked. Steve leaned his head back out of the door, and then Natasha followed him into the room. She carefully shut the door behind them and locked it for good measure. Both Steve and Natasha approached the desk apprehensively.

"Buggy, what's going on? What happened?" Natasha asked, her usually calm demeanor slipping a bit.

Bucky took a deep breath before looking up at them. "Someone knows about Angel," he said, his voice deadly and fire in his eyes.

To Be Continued....

[take-everything-you-can]

What makes a man

A/N : This is the second piece into the angiverse or my dad Eddie series of blurbs. A series of Fathers Days throughout Eddies life. One Where his father wasn't so kind, another when he surprised Wayne, and one more where you surprise him. I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.

P.s Photo in header are all from google straight up not gonna lie to yall have no idea who edited the Eddie and Wayne photo but its phenomenal.

P.p.s update : the photo of Eddie and Wayne was created by user @fefemunson on Pinterest and insta 💕💕🖤

Dividers by @cafekitsune

18+ MINORS DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem reader

WC: 4K

TW: Angst ( Al - need I say more...) Fluff ( Wayne's gift, doting husband, baby girl Munson) Smut ( Breeding kink, F receiving, fingering, unprotected PIV, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, accidental edging, squirting) If y'all see anything I missed please let me know. Not really edited all that much.

Sweat rolled down the side of Eddie's face as he sat crouched behind a car in the packed lot of a junkyard, a few towns over from Hawkins. The sun had set but the heat waves, in the middle of June 1975,  had become almost stifling as he kept an eye on his surroundings. Al had promised that if Eddie just kept watch this one last time, while he took care of some business, then he could get him the guitar strings he had his eye on.

It had only been two seconds, two seconds Eddie let himself get distracted as he watched the fireflies light up the darkening sky in swirling patterns. Two seconds and Eddie had missed how a tall figure made its way over to the door in which he watched his father disappear behind. Two seconds and he was too late to let out his crow call to let Al know there was someone coming. 

“Run.” A gunshot and a flash of his father was all Eddie heard and saw before his limbs were weaving in and out of old abandoned things that people no longer needed. Things that people no longer wanted. Losing traction as the rain from the night before made the clay and mud beneath his feet slide. He had caught up to Al, Eddie had never been an athlete but when it came to running for his life, he had more practice then one should at his age.

“Stupid, How could you be so fucking Stupid?” Al was catching his breath as he slowed, pretty sure that the men he was stealing from had given up at least for now. “I mean I ask you to do one thing and you can't even do that right.” Eddie walks beside his father and he’s heard the spiel time and time again. “If you think I’m getting you those guitar strings after this, You can forget it.”  Eddie knew he was never getting those strings, and if he was being honest with himself he knew this was the only time he was going to get with his father. That's all he ever wanted , to feel like he was needed and if that meant he would have to sit through some words that hurt, then that's exactly what he would do. 

He thought to two days ago. Hawkins Elementary had fathers day arts and crafts sweep through the halls and through classrooms as the day approached within the upcoming weekend. He decided that he was going to draw what he knew best. Eddie had drawn a dragon, large and fierce , one only a brave man could face. Sword in hand and threatening he had drawn his father slaying the dragon that plagued the princess’s  nightmares around the realm. He was so excited to present it to his father but as he sat and heard the words his father was saying the longer the picture sat in his backpack until it littered the bottom of it at the end of the year. 

Eddie would never give the picture to Al, in fact he would grow to forget about it. 

It took only a few months as the fall leaves began to change colors and fall to the ground, Al would find himself behind bars. Life without parole for numerous crimes that would leave Eddie with nothing but his mother and His uncle. It would be a very very long time before He would even hear the sound of his voice again. 

June 1985 had become as hot as Eddie thought it possibly could within the trailer. Wayne was currently out shopping for two new units, one for the living room and one for Eddie. As the men of the house could no longer stand having their hair drip sweat in their eyes and slick down the back of their knees. So they counted couch change and broke open piggy banks for the luxury of air flow. 

Eddie had found himself trying to pry the window that had been painted shut open in his room. A small one across from where his bed sat, and it took all of his strength and an hour of his time, but he had finally been able to crack it. Sweet relief had started to settle around him as a breeze picked up and his curtains swayed in as he took a look around his room. Clothes scattered and books in a pile, a few cups on his desk and sheets of paper askew, Eddie decided to start cleaning his room.

 A half clean floor surprised Wayne as he looks in on Eddie as he arrives home with the new units. Almost not wanting to say anything at all to stop Eddie in his task, but he curses himself as the words leave his mouth. 

“Come help me unload this truck boy.”  Eddie slips on a pair or worn out sneaker and trudges through the inferno only to be met with a realization. It was colder outside then it was in the trailer and he stood on the shared porch in disbelief. 

“How is it cooler out here than inside?” 

“Not for long If i can help it, Now come one and give me a hand before I melt out here.” 

Eddie helps Wayne take both units into the house and he holds them up as Wayne takes his time to install them, making sure that he eases the process as much as he can for his uncle.

 Eddie Holds his breath as Wayne plugs in the unit in his bedroom and the second the small little green light pops on and revs the A/C Unit to life, That breath leaves his lungs in a huffed out laugh as he jumps up and down in joy. A laugh from Wayne as he pats Eddie's shoulder as he leaves the room. “Glad you like it. I’m hitting the hay so keep it down here okay?” Eddie nods his head towards his uncle as he lifts his shirt up over his head and just basks in the cool air hitting his skin for what feels like the first time ever. 

Eddie opens his closet to hang a few stray long sleeve shirts he had  found scattered across the floor. Giving each the smell test before grabbing hangers. Who needs a long sleeve tee in this heat anyway, he thinks to himself. He stops and bends to find an old shoebox that had fallen from the top shelf and somehow landed upside down. Small trinkets from his past had toppled out and onto the floor, a few movie stubs, from trips to the cinema across town. His first DND Handbook , a small pick-me-up Wayne had brought home from a thrift store for him one day after finding out he had the flu.

 Then a small folded up piece of paper caught his eye. A Knight in shining armor depicted as slaying a dragon, one with a tail that could take out entire cities and claws like daggers. A sword through its skull as he shields himself from the bloodshed,but the face of the knight confused him. He remembered drawing the picture for his father , his rounded features and brudish stance, but the more he looked in on the knight he realized the picture he had drawn was not rounded but more sharp. The knight was more gentle as if it hurt to even have to slay the dragon but for his princess he would do anything. He had drawn Wayne, not his father. 

The picture would continue to lay in the box , and Eddie would put the box back in its rightful place on a shelf in his closet , but Eddie would always know that Wayne would slay his dragon. In fact he realized Wayne had been slaying them for years all in the sake of his protection. This brought a smile to his face as he left his room and made himself some dinner, making Wayne a plate to leave in the fridge so he would have something to eat before having to go to work. Tomorrow he wouldn't wait for the phone call from his father that would never come, instead he would spend it with his dad, a man who took him in and loved him for all that he was. 

An Early Morning of June 1988, Eddie paced by the phone for what seemed like hours. He started off his day by sitting , but the nervous bile that would rise in his throat had him up and down. His mind was set on hearing disappointment but you reassured him he would hear nothing of the sort. Finding himself sitting, knee bouncing as if it had a live wire in it, you start to separate things off the stove into their own spots on the kitchen aisle. A breakfast fit for a king, sausage and eggs , bacon and pancakes. All that was missing was Coffee. 

The night before you and Eddie had gone to Waynes for dinner leaving a small gift that he wasn’t supposed to open until this morning. You were sure he would open it as soon as you left but the line had stayed silent and Eddie knew for a fact he would call if he did. Given the gift he was receiving you had hoped the phone would ring sooner rather than later simply for the fact that you wanted Eddie to have peace of mind. Each second that passed you saw in Eddie’s features that he was going to the dark and weathered places. 

You and Eddie had given Wayne a mug. A small pink mug that when Wayne opened it reminded him of a diner he had not far from his house when he lived in Tennessee as a child. As Wayne poured his coffee into the mug he noticed that when he went to take a sip his hand caressed within it perfectly, a new favorite he would have to keep by the sink. As his last few sips drained the cup he saw an inscription on the bottom of the inside.

‘Pa Pa needs Coffee first’ 

A shrill ring from the telephone made you and Eddie nearly jump out of your skin. He picked up the phone and held it to his ear but before the word “hello” could leave his mouth Wayne had already started.

“Are you serious? Don’t be playing no games with me boy, cause if i have a heart attack then i'm taking your scrawny ass with me! You better be telling the truth or so help me -” 

Eddie's sniffles match Waynes as he just nods his head as if the man on the other end of the line can see him.

“I’m telling the truth, we’re having a baby girl, Uncle Wayne.”  Eddie turns as he hears a small sob leave you . You had been watching the man in front of you tell the most important person in his life the news of having your first child. It broke you in the best way.

 Eddie motioned for you to come over to him as he couldn't pull the cord far enough to reach you. He wrapped both of his arms around your neck as he held the phone to his ear letting Wayne rattle on his congratulations while you let the tears fall and land on his shirt. Eddie hoped this would be one of those moments you never forget. One that even when you were sitting next to him old and gray , he hoped this would be a memory he could always reach out for.

 Eddie hung up the phone and still having you wrapped up in his arms led you backwards. He stopped next to the fridge and opened it opting for orange juice instead of coffee. He had told you about a week or so ago that anything you couldn't do, he wouldn't do, and It was becoming a challenge. Coffee and a cigarette had been his daily routine for as long as he could remember, but having you struggle was something he was not going to let you do alone. So this morning he poured you a glass of juice along with his own and you both sat and ate the breakfast of champions, a slight Happy Father's Day on the tip of your tongue. 

Summer on the cusp of beginning in June of 1991 had bees buzzing and roses blooming . A cranky tot had been an alarm clock for you and Eddie for the past three weeks. Not only had your daughter reached the terrible twos but the heat was something she didn't like in the slightest. A stressful few months of Eddie working non stop and you finishing rotation on night shift had left you no time alone together. That would all end tonight. 

Wayne had agreed to take Angie for the weekend while you and Eddie had finally convinced your jobs to give you the time off. A rushed drive to Waynes gave you that pit feeling in your stomach and the tears that stained Angies face at your absence gave you tears to shed of your own. Mom guilt was always something you would struggle with. How could you not? Eddie squeezed your knee as he drove, peaking at you every so often to sooth the pit, he felt it too, but you deserve this. Eddie Deserved this. 

An early check-in to the hotel you had booked gave you enough time to get dressed and listen to Eddie complain about the restaurant you were taking him to having a dress code. You packed him a black blazer and a maroon button up ,but the man refused to wear slacks. Absolutely threw a fit about it, so he compromised and wore black jeans that you had to inspect for rips. While you wore a black dress that fit snugly against your soft tummy, coming up short against your thighs. If you bent over the entire place would be getting a show but you were saving that for your husband. God your husband, you loved the sound it rang through your brain, an earworm the word had become since you married. Husband, the father of your child, the man you gave your everything to and he gave you back all of himself in return. 

The dim light of the room made you squint at the incredibly small print of the menu in your hands and as you look across the table you see Eddie doing the same. 

“You see a burger here anywhere?” you roll your eyes. 

“Eddie, we did not drive an hour into the city for you to order a burger from a five star restaurant.”

“Why not?” you could see the slight slip of the corner of his mouth. You smile and turn your focus back on figuring out what to eat before the waiter comes back. The pasta sounds nice, the steak on a table across the way looks divine. You settle on a Caesar salad , Eddie orders steak and fettuccine. A beer in front of Eddie pairs with your glass of white as his hand comes across waiting for you to take hold. You indulge him as you pick up your glass with your other hand. Soft circles across your knuckles have you leaning into the table.

“Have i told you how incredible you look tonight?” Heat rushes through you at his tone, seep sultry, dark. A twist in where he laces your fingers with his own and a gleam in his eye. You know exactly what he wants to hear.

“Oh yeah? Me? What about you over there?” You return the look as the waiter sits your food in front of you interrupting whatever he was going to say.

 A tight smile is all he gives as he picks up his beer and takes a sip. He picks up his knife and you watch as he tries to cut into his steak, lifting your glass and taking a long sip you take the edge of your heels and slide it up his leg. He nearly drops his fork on the ground at the unexpected touch. Eddie stares wide eyed as he brings his food to his mouth slowly taking the bite.

You look away as if your heel isn't still making its way to his knee and sliding in between his thighs, placing your shoe right against his groin. You can see the way his body stiffens and instantly his hand is slammed against the table. It gets the attention of your waiter as if the sound was a call of his name. When he asks if you are enjoying your food and if you need anything Eddie rushes to get the words out.

“Yes! Good! Everything is delicious! Can we get the check please?” he obliges as he walks to grab the tab for the two of you. Giggling as you take in the wild look Eddie is giving you.

"You done already babe?"

"You are going to be the absolute death of me, woman.”  you pay for dinner as a treat for Fathers day, shit this whole weekend was for Fathers day. Eddie gave you hell for paying but the bruising grip on your hip as you walked through the restaurant had you knowing he was going to pay you back tenfold. 

Barely making it through the door to your hotel room Eddie had already shed the blazer you had made him wear. Lips catching between teeth and struggling to undo buttons has you both breathless and frustrated. Eddie pulls the shirt up and over his head yelling fuck it as it soars across the room. The rattle of his belt buckle sends a shiver down your spine as you sit and struggle to undo the clasp of your heels. Eddie kicks the denim that pooled around his ankles to the side as he jumps up onto the bed. His knees against the sheets, he takes one of your heels in his hands and leans it against his chest as he undoes the clasp for you. He throws the heel behind him and does the same to the other leaning over you as his hair falls around your face.

“Mhmm, I've been thinking ‘bout this all day.” your lips crash into his, a hungry, feral feeling overcomes you as you wrap your legs around his waist. His lips begin their journey down your neck and across your chest, sucking small spots and leaving small bruises, as if leading breadcrumbs to find his way back home. He reaches the hem of your dress as he nips at your thighs pushing the fabrics up so it bunches at your waist. 

“Isn't it Fathers Day, shouldn't I be the one going down on you?“ He catches your eyes as you look down and shakes his head. 

“Nope. Like you said, it's Fathers Day and that means I get whatever I want baby,  and I didn't get to have dessert.” He takes the lace between his teeth and lets it snap back in place listening as you let out a small whine from beneath him. 

“Mmm so sweet” He slips the thong along your thighs and down your legs as you let them spread for his immediate return. Except it’s not immediate, he takes his time. “So good to me, aren’t you sweetheart?” He takes his time kissing his way down your thighs to your dripping core. He drapes your legs over his shoulders as he slips his tongue through your folds and around your clit. Sucking hard as he lets the slick of your arousal coat his taste buds. Kissing your cunt as if he can’t live without its breath in his lungs. He slips his tongue into you as he lets his nose stimulate your clit. You wonder if he can breathe but the thought is lost as he slips a finger into you instead coming back to focus on that bundle of nerves. Your hands wrap themselves around his curls and grip hard, earning a moan from him that vibrates against your core as he adds another finger and a gasping moan sounding from deep within you as you chase that lightning through your core. Shaking thunderous moans of His name leave you as you give in to your husband. He slows the curl of his fingers and lets you ride out your high letting himself pant against your thigh as your grip in his hair loosens. 

Laughs from Eddie send you into a fit of your own giggles and the loving look he gives you as he hovers over you letting you taste yourself off his lips. Slow and needy you reach down and grasp Eddie's length through his boxers and a groan is made from the back of his throat.

“Eddie.” The soft moan of his name is all it takes for him to give you anything you ever wanted. Some Days it’s your laugh, other days it’s the way you take care of his daughter, but right now in this moment it’s the way you're sighing at his touch. 

You sit up pushing his shoulders back until his head hits the pillows,straddling his waist and sliding up and down his cock a few times, coating him in your slick. Lining him up with your entrance and sitting slowly until his entire length is buried inside you. A deep moan from within the both of you. You lift yourself off of him leaning back resting your hands on his thighs as the angle lets him hit that sweet spot inside of you with every drop back into his lap. The way his cock slides against your walls has you throwing your head back ,eyes closed in ecstasy.

“Uh uh , Look at me , Let me see you baby.”  your chest heaves with each thrust he sends upwards into you, unable to form words. A sudden flip has you separated from Eddie right as you were on the cusp.

“I said look at me Baby, Come on. What ? dick so good you’ve gone dumb?”  He slams into you and the sounds of his skin slapping yours, as he fucks you into the mattress, echoes off the walls.” God you’re so tight. Squeezin the fuck outta me.” You whine as he lifts you so your chest is flush with his own. “Look so good underneath me ,gonna fuck you full baby.” 

“Yes , god yes Fuck Eddie, fill me up.” you moan through each thrust, right against his ear. You reach your climax gushing around Eddie a small spray reaching his abdomen and wetting the sheets beneath you. Nail marks scratching down his back send him into his own orgasm as he coats the walls within you thick, falling forward with you under him. A weight you would always welcome. Both of you lay in utter bliss for what feels like forever before he slips out of you. You hiss at the empty feeling but welcome the warm rag Eddie drags across your center. A glass of water is given to you as you lay tangled in the sheets bringing them to your chest as you gulp down every drop. A small smile on Eddie's face has you feeling like you did the first time you saw him. Unbelievably awestruck. 

“What's on your mind Honey?” He thinks for a second but gives you an answer far from what you expect. 

“I think we just made our second child.” loud and blissfully you laugh. 

“One not enough? “ His dimples practically touch each other as he purses his lips, letting his tongue glide over the bottom.

“One is plenty, but I just can't help but want a little more of you in the world.” you sit up on your knees as you bring Eddies face down to your own, sliding a hand across his cheek as your lips meet.

"I wouldn’t mind a little more of you out there either.” 

[cartoonsinthemorning]

Ford and stan portal adventures

This is too vague for me to draw, BUT I can yap about it at length. Let's say this is an AU were, after their canonical fight, and activation of the portal, the diverge is that they BOTH get snatched inside. So we have a slowburn scenario were the 28yo twins end up in the multiverse together, having to rely on each other to survive in these bizarro worlds despite hating each other guts, but gradually mending their relationship. Best part of this scenario would be the sexual tension, at the beginning, when they keep have shouting matches but you can tell in good part it's to mask the frustration, because they missed each other and secretly want to make out. They would settle for more punching, turned wrestling match on the floor, turned wrestling with less clothes on. OH and you know what else would be fun, if this was a fanfic written by someone with crazy skills?? If, by the time they finally start to fuck regularly, the weird ass world they end up boning in is somehow integrated into the act. Idk idk, head empty, I can't come up with an example. But my imaginary Chad Writer would come up with something genius.

Now though. Funny coinky-dence that I'm answering to your message now, because just today I've seen a somewhat related fan art that really got my gears going:

So, dude58915 on twitter came up with this version, were 28yo Mullet Stan gets into the portal instead of Ford, but, once there, meets a much older Ford, from yet another dimension. NOW THAT'S what I want to see!! DAMN.

Imagine Stan seeing this masked dude- a suspicious bloke for sure- but still a HUMAN. He'd run after him, telling the mysterious man they should stick together, be a team! He's the only human he's ever seen in DAYS, since he ended up in this creepy shithole! And old!Ford just jerks his arm free from Stan's desperate grip, telling the younger man, coldly, that he's gonna have to make it on his own, before turning around to follow the coordinates on his multi-navigator, leaving Stan alone. Because Ford hates him. Ford hates Stan, even this one, even this Stan that evidently ended up in the portal, punished for his own stupid mistakes, for once. This Stan will die, and he deserves it, and Ford doesn't care. Expect that when he hears Stan scream, as he's getting attacked by some monster, Ford turns around and runs to save him.

And from that moment on, this Ford takes Stan under his wing, taking him to the next dimension with him. Ford's plan is to train this Stan decently enough- all the while keeping his own identity concealed- until the young man is able to fend for himself, and Ford will abandon him for real, this time.

Except that...this Stan doesn't know who Ford is, so he doesn't express any resentment or hate towards him. On the contrary: despite the old men being so cold and sometimes rude to him, resulting in /some/ shouting matches, Stan is grateful, and clearly fascinated by the cloaked man and his knowledge and fighting skills. Stan is like a clingy puppy...and Ford loves it. He would never EVER admit it to himself, but he does. He didn't feel this pleased, this important, in forever. And maybe, he's never seen Stann look at him with this level of adoration before, not even when they were kids. I'm gonna cut it short to the crass part: Stan has daddy issues, and gets incredibly attached to Ford, wants to please him. The "masked man" would inevitably get the hardest boner, feeling so needed, so special, the Sun itself that Stan gravitates around. They'd fuck. HELL, they'd end up making tender love, sometimes. And Ford would need to be extra careful, because he enjoys this docile, obedient Stan sucking his cock (figuratively and physically), and it would be a real shame if Stan was to find out it's just another version of his hated brother, he's ended up worshipping and taking inside him every night. Ford guesses the young man would be quite mad about the truth.

And with this ominous cliffhanger, I'll stop yapping, it's dinner time.

[allthelittlecreepycrawlies]

Posting more old stuff. Finally gathered together enough of my brain to clean up the Petshop of Horror AU shorts and put them in a vaguely proper timeline order.

---

Nie Zonghui is fifteen the first time he enters the aviary and sees a boy watching his movements instead of a bird. 

It's thrilling. 

It's terrifying. 

He's been told all his life what an honor it is to even be considered a potential partner by Sang-er, but for it to actually happen- 

"Remember," his mother warns him gently. "You have to wait for him to pick you. Very bad things happen to those who try to jump ahead with him." 

He nods nervously, remembering how a man from one of the other great sects had "vanished" a year previously after attempting to force the issue, and even the man's own sect leader had written it off as a careless (stupid) mistake and informed the Nie sect there would not need to be any recompense. 

For a time, nothing else seems to change, other than the knowledge he is now in a different -unspoken- class of disciple.

Three months later, he is taking a break from his studies when a graceful hand snitches a slice of peach from his plate. 

That in itself is nothing new, as Sang-er has always been playful whether bird or boy, but the heat in a bright green stare when Nie Zonghui looks up makes his mouth go dry with a mix of nerves and anticipation. 

Sang-er smiles and offers him a hand up and he goes more than willingly, hoping he won't embarrass himself.

---

He's not sure how to feel the day that his perception of Sang-er changes. 

He's heard others talk about nervous anticipation, or hope, or even fear, but... 

"Talk to me, Jue-er," Sang-er murmurs, running long nails that feel like talons through his hair. 

It's a really pleasant feeling, though it doesn't disperse the discomfort in his stomach. 

"It feels like an obligation," Nie Mingjue mutters. 

The look that crosses Sang-er's face makes him feel like an asshole, but now that the words are coming out, he can't make them stop. "Bond a saber, lead the sect, fuck the resident good luck charm. All the requirements to be Nie-zongzhu laid out nice and neat."

The petting stops.

"You know, I only accepted three of the men who were Nie-zongzhu before you," Sang-er says, then quietly gets up and walks back to the aviary.

Oh.

Wow.

Now he feels like an even bigger asshole. 

Sang-er doesn't change back into a bird, but that doesn't lessen the feeling that he has ruined things between them. 

He knows it's on him to apologize, but he doesn't know how. 

In the end, it turns out not to matter much. Sang-er meets him in his new rooms two weeks after his father's funeral. 

"Remember. I chose you," Sang-er says as he sinks into Nie Mingjue's lap and nuzzles up under his chin. 

He won't forget.

---

One of the girls who worked with his mother loved telling outlandish stories of how cultivators would tame magical creatures to protect their sects. 

He had only ever listened with half an ear, dismissing most of them as pure fantasy. 

And then his new sect leader introduces him to the prettiest boy he's ever seen and tells him that is actually a bird. 

"Hm. Not to you, apparently," Nie Mingjue says, looking more amused than anything. 

"I- is that bad?" Meng Yao asks, suddenly fearful that he's failed some kind of secret test. 

One explanation later, he's still reeling a little bit. 

He has been warned that Sang-er might take a while to choose him, or won't choose him at all. But to even be considered an option is overwhelming. 

The stories all said that one had to be an exceptional cultivator to draw the interest of such a being, and he is... very much not that, especially not after being trapped in a bottleneck for the better part of a year. 

So when he returns to his room one evening and finds Sang-er waiting for him, all curled up with his chin resting on his knees, he can't help blurting out the question that has haunted him for weeks. 

"Why me?" 

Sang-er tilts his head, then unfolds himself gracefully and slips off the bed. "I don't see why it matters, but we can help each other. All power has to be refined before it can be used." 

It's an offer to crack open the bottleneck for him, Meng Yao realizes, and his chest and throat close up with painful knots of emotion. "Please. I'll give you anything you want," he begs involuntarily, the words escaping despite being sticky in his mouth.

Sang-er smothers a laugh with a gauzy sleeve, the sound making him shiver. "There's no need for that kind of dramatic proclamation, Yao-er. Just relax," he says, and then leans in to kiss him.

---

He is working the festival crowds, picking pockets and snitching snacks, when a rumble of excited awe goes up in the town's center square. 

"I can't believe they've allowed him out of the fortress," one woman murmurs to her companion. 

"How much do you think old man Chang paid to get them to have him bless the area?" he hears another man say. 

"If it means the crops survive this year, they can have the whole sect treasury as far as I'm concerned," his friend replies. 

Curious despite himself, Xue Yang slips through the very, very few gaps in the mass of people towards the center of all the attention. 

He's almost made it to the front of the crowd when he finds himself on his face in the dirt. 

He raises his head, intent on cursing out whoever tripped him- 

-and finds himself locking gazes with a pale-eyed boy sitting amongst the green and grey robes of a sect that isn't the Changs. 

The boy smiles and gives him a little wave. 

Xue Yang feels dizzy.

Unfortunately, the crowd shifts again, and he doesn't get the chance to see the stranger again before they leave.

---

The first time the pretty boy in green and gold silks that are far too revealing for Qinghe's weather smiles at him, all sweetness and sharp teeth, Lan Xichen feels dizzy. 

Having heard about Sang-er from Mingjue-xiong, he knows what it means that he is seeing a boy at all, but he never thought... he never considered... 

He was the heir, meant to marry and have children. 

Nie Mingjue outright laughs at him when he brings it up. "As if bedding Sang-er has ever stopped anyone else, even a Lan, from doing that." 

He's not sure what to think of that. It should be... indecent that anyone of his sect would have slept with someone, especially a yao, that they had no intention of wedding. 

He starts to wonder if maybe he's a little naive. 

There's a prickly little itch in the back of his brain that says maybe he should ask Sang-er more about it. 

That's... all he'll do... 

Surely.

—

It's… not. 

When, much later, Lan Xichen lies dazed with a pretty boy still curled up against his chest, he has a whole new perspective on things.

---

While Jiang Cheng has heard of Qinghe's strange pet almost all his life, most of the gossip being either jealousy from the Jin sect or denigration from the adults of his own, he doesn't actually meet Sang-er until almost a month after Wei Wuxian has returned from the Burial Mounds.

"Aren't you supposed to be lucky?" he asks, too bitter to remember at that moment that he should be seeing a bird and not a boy.

Sang-er tilts his head in an unnervingly birdlike manner and levels him with an unreadable stare. "Would you like to know how this would be going if I wasn't here?" he asks mildly. 

Jiang Cheng quickly shuts up and retreats to meet with the weaponsmiths.

It's another five days before Sang-er approaches him, alighting in front of him just before he can enter the tent where he sleeps. "My blessing is starting to wane. And you're going to need it for the next push your martial brother is planning." 

Jiang Cheng swallows hard. "Shouldn't you be going to him, then?" he asks, trying not to sound envious. 

Sang-er leans up on his toes and wraps slender arms around his neck, then kisses him lightly. "No." 

Oh. 

Okay. 

He is… very okay with this.

---

Wen Ruohan had only been the third son of the sect, no one important really, when he found himself among Sang-er's potentials.

The first one from outside of Qinghe Nie. The only one among his brothers and sisters.

His father had been smug; his siblings jealous.

Wen Ruohan himself had only been smitten.

Be it the possibility that a little of the pretty boy's luck had, quite literally, rubbed off on him, or a newfound desire to prove himself worthy, he had quickly surpassed his older brothers to steal away the position of sect heir.

But as his strength and standing grew, so too did his jealousy. The fact that Sang-er belonged to Qinghe Nie, that he had other mates, including the sect leaders…

It was hardly fair, was it? When Wen Ruohan could best them all?

And, for three generations, that jealousy quietly simmered. Even as he found himself eventually drawn in by Nie Haoran's irreverent, jovial attitude, found himself becoming friends with the fourth Nie-zongzhu he'd known in his lifetime, it remained under the surface.

Until it escaped.

It is only after Nie Haoran's death that he learns that his old friend and supposed rival was never one of Sang-er's chosen. That for all the clear fondness, they had only been a sect leader and a sect pet.

It's too late to fix things. Sang-er never requests to meet him again.

When the other sects foolishly decide to follow the Nie in standing against the inevitable, he immediately orders the capture of Qinghe's most valuable pet. But Sang-er proves to be surprisingly elusive for a creature of such fame and recognition, and every agent he sends inevitably winds up sentenced to the Fire Palace for failure… until they stop coming back at all, either due to cowardice or because Sang-er has taken note that he is being hunted.

And then, one night, he wakes from his bed in the Palace of the Scorching Sun to find Sang-er watching him from the sill of the open window. 

As a bird, not a boy. 

Incensed by the very clear rejection, he attacks the bird, not caring whether to capture or kill, and the bird retaliates with talons and wing edges as sharp as honed steel. 

Badly injured and mind in a storm, he does not react fast enough when the spy within his ranks (and one of Sang-er's current chosen), steps out of the shadows of the servants' entrance with a sword in hand.

---

He only ends up in Qinghe at all because their father sends him along with Yao-ge as "extra hands", which they both know just means getting rid of him for a while. 

At least Yao-ge is nice about it, sharing lunch with him on the way. 

"Should I go... somewhere?" he asks his brother nervously as they enter the gates. 

"Hm..." Yao-ge flags down a servant who seems to recognize him. "Would A-Yu be permitted to see the aviary?" 

"As long as Sang-er allows it, it's fine. Let's stop by the kitchens to get some fruit for the little ones." 

"Little ones?" Mo Xuanyu asks. 

"Some finches and nightjars found their way in over the last winter. Sang-er likes them well enough, so we never chased them out." 

—

There are not a bunch of little birds and one large bird in the aviary. 

There are a bunch of little birds and a boy his age whose pale-eyed gaze makes him feel like he's going to faint from his heart beating too fast. 

"U- um-" 

The servant who escorted him in makes a noise like trying to turn a laugh into a cough. "I'll let Zongzhu know a new candidate has arrived." 

Wait, what? 

He quickly turns around, but the door has already closed. 

Oh, he's in so much trouble, isn't he?

[galvanizedfriend]

KC Wip Wednesday

This is my humble contribution to WIP Wednesday! It's a scene from the rewriting of TVD S5 - Yokan's version. In it, The Originals never happens, most of the Mikaelsons remain in Mystic Falls and Klaus and Caroline are kind of a thing, but nobody knows (for sure). Remember that moment where Katherine locks herself up in a safe with Stefan to "cure" his PTSD? It's that, except it's Klaus, not Katherine. This alludes to a very Klefan past, btw. Be warned if you're not a fan.

Also, this is for @definedareasofuncertainty, who wanted me to write her Easter Klefan. 🤧 There you go, friend! And you know, not beta'ed and all that.

--

Klaus lies on his back, takes a calm breath as the heavy door is closed with a thud, engulfing them in absolute darkness. All in all, he'd say a metal box is hardly the most uncomfortable setting he's found himself in. He prefers the comfort of first-class accommodations, but he's traveled in worse. The grown man beating about beside him does make things rather unpleasant, though.

"Stop! Caroline! Get me out of here!" Stefan screams, smashing his fists against the iron safe's indestructible structure. The more desperate he gets, the more uncoordinated and weaker his movements become, thus making the effort completely useless, however accomplished in making the experience all the more miserable for him.

It's embarrassing how incapable Klaus is of saying no to Caroline whenever she asks for a favor. Locking himself up in a box with a traumatized Stefan has to be an all-time low. The things he won't do when she bats her eyelashes and says please.

"Oh, stop it," he remarks in a bored tone as he shoves Stefan aside. The old safe is rather spacious, but definitely not enough to comport two men, particularly if one of them won't stop bloody writhing like a worm in hot sand. "The more you scream, the more breathless you become." The more I want to tear your vocal cords to shreds.

"Get me out of here, Klaus, get me the fuck out of here!"

"Relax, Stefan. I'm here to help," he says. "I'm what you would call a greater agony to alleviate the smaller pain you feel being trapped inside the box. It's reverse psychology, or so Caroline read in a book. What do you think of a little werewolf venom high to speed up the process?"

"You're psychotic. You're fucking insane!" Stefan starts pounding on the box again. "Caroline! Caroline, open up! Open it now!"

"I'm sorry, Stefan!" comes her muffled apology. Even through the metal barrier she sounds thick with guilt. It was her idea, but already she's cracking. That bleeding heart of hers… "I'm sorry, I will -"

"Do not touch that box, Caroline," he commands with his full authority. "Leave it."

There's a long pause, the sound of Stefan's heart hammering away inside his chest in the box as they wait to see what she'll do. A beat goes by before she mumbles a final sorry and scurries away, likely to avoid the temptation of putting poor Stefan out of his misery.

Klaus' lips pull into a grin. "Good girl."

Stefan starts shaking beside him, his breath becoming even more labored. "I can't breathe," he gasps. "I can't - I can't -"

"You don't need to breathe, Stefan. It's all in your head," Klaus reminds him pointedly. "A vampire having a panic attack, honestly. When you think you've seen everything…"

"You're not fucking helping!"

"Pardon me. My bedside manners have gone a little rusty since the last time you've experienced them." Klaus casts Stefan a glance, sees the way his eyes widen in horror, his body growing stiff as a rod, and he can't contain the self-satisfied smile that draws across his lips. "We did once find comfort in each other's company, didn't we?" Stefan makes another panicked sound, smoothing his hands across the cold metal door above them, trying to find a way out. Klaus chuckles. "Don't worry, mate. Caroline can't hear us. Your sordid little secret is safe with me. It's just us here, alone under the cover of darkness. Nothing we haven't done a dozen times in the past. Ahh, the 20s…" he speaks around a dramatic sigh. "It was the roaring years, indeed."

"What are you doing?"

"Making conversation."

"I don't want to talk to you, I especially don't want to talk about that." Stefan nearly chokes on the last word, inching as far away from Klaus as the confined space will allow, as though the mere idea of touching him fills him with utter revulsion. Klaus knows better; it's the way he remembers exactly how it didn't what terrifies him.

Anybody who's met this watered down, colorless version of Stefan would never be able to tell how much of a free spirit he used to be. He was fun. A far cry from the shivering man beside him now. Tragic, really.

"I know you like to pretend it never happened. Frankly, you've become quite an embarrassment of your former self, so I wouldn't proudly advertise it either. This bunny-eating, crying in the dark skin you're wearing these days is someone is wouldn't be caught fraternizing with if you were the last human being on earth."

"Then leave me the fuck alone already."

"Don't flatter yourself. I'm not here for you," he snaps back. And then, putting a leash on his rising temper, he continues, "But since I have to be… I can recognize that there was something about that time we had together that suited us both, more than just for the obvious reasons."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Sure you do. I was a tool for you."

"A tool for self-destruction."

Klaus huffs out a disdainful breath. "I was a balm to your tortured soul, Stefan, even at a time when you embraced your true self. I indulged you because you amused me, but at the end of the day, when we were together, it was all rather transactional. It wasn't about sentimentality or a shared appreciation for extravagance. It was about the hollow inside us. The fact we were always desperately seeking to fill it with… Anything, really. Whatever we could find. Passions. Pleasure. Violence. Cravings. But it never lasted, did it? Those things lack a purpose. They're all flitting in their essence, an immense explosion of satisfaction followed by… Nothing. We were both hungry, and we kept trying to find the thing that would sate us. You had lost your mind; I had lost my home. Like drawn to like." Klaus turns his face to Stefan, finds him staring back, eyes glinting with an emotion he can't quite read in the gloom. He always did fancy Stefan's eyes, though. There is something raw about them, something honest for a change. A little opening to the truth in his soul he tries so hard to hide from the outside world. "That's what the darkness is, Stefan," he continues. "Loneliness. It's what restrains us. The monster we cannot outrun. When it all stops - the laughter, the liquor, the hunger - and everything goes quiet around us, that's when we feel it. The curse of eternity. The weight of our years, deep in our bones. And the inevitable loneliness that comes with it. You had your names on the wall, I had my letters, but when all was said and done… We were both stuck in infinite darkness. Except for a few glorious stolen moments, in that repulsive room of yours." The corner of his mouth pulls up into a lopsided smile. "I was the bigger monster you needed in order to humanize yourself. Whatever you were, I was worse, and so I assuaged your guilt. Much like me being here right now. But then of course you found religion!" He laughs, closing his eyes and facing forward once more. "Your spiritual path towards the light. Elena Gilbert." He enunciates the name like it's coated in something toxic. His general distaste for Elena goes further than the fact she has thwarted so many of his plans. It's the boring saint act he cannot get over.

"Yes," Stefan says, his voice rough. "And then I lost her."

"Right. Because she chose your brother." Klaus chuckles. Stefan shifts uncomfortably beside him, the urge to hit him palpable in the air. It only spurs Klaus on. "How so very tacky. No taste, that one. Personally, I think there's no amount of blue eyes or good sex that can make Damon tolerable. What a wanker. I just want to bash his face against a wall whenever he opens his mouth."

Stefan scoffs. "Get in line."

"It's ironic, isn't it? You were at your absolute best behavior, weeding out all of your instincts, everything that made you fun and interesting in order to fashion yourself into a fairy tale prince for her, and what does she do? She chooses the dullard bad boy. Typical." Klaus shakes his head. "Ungrateful little -"

"Shut up."

"Martyr," he finishes with a smirk. "She probably thinks she's going to fix him, doesn't she? I bet he encourages it. But that's the difference between you and Damon, isn't it? Even with all your valiant efforts, you know creatures like us cannot be fixed. We're beyond salvation."

He gets a sudden twinge in his chest, an image flashing in his mind. A smile as bright as the sun. Hair the color of wheat. He sees her shifting under his sheets, feels the warmth of her touch, the brush of her rosy lips against his skin. It ignites a sense of joy inside him unlike anything else, a sense of possession, of belonging, of having found something that is far more precious or rare than any of the hundreds of treasures he's collected over the course of his life. But along with it comes the ever-present fear. Of loss. How long before he ruins her, like he's ruined everything else he's ever cherished? How long before he hurts her, even if he doesn't mean to? Before his darkness tarnishes her and kills that smile? Before she decides he's not worth it?

"How do you make yourself worthy?" he asks, the question tumbling out of his as though of their own accord. "How do you earn the affections of someone so…"

"Good?" Stefan finishes for him, reading his thoughts. "With sunshine and rainbows shining out of their eyes? Someone like, say… Caroline?" Klaus goes quiet, all his humor bleeding out of him in a second. "You don't," Stefan answers his own question. "You'll never be good enough for her, Klaus. Just like I was never good enough for Elena. Not really. The truth is they deserve much better than the two of us." He sighs, deflating with resignation next to Klaus. "I guess we did make quite a pair, you and I."

"Then perhaps we should die together," he says with an edge of aggression, his mood taking a sudden downturn. He's suddenly irritated. With Stefan, with this ridiculous situation, with himself for agreeing to that. "You and I, in a box, at the bottom of a quarry. Over and over again, drowning in suffering for all our sins and the women we don't deserve. How about that?" Silence stretches out between them, absolute. There's no response from Stefan, but there's also no pounding pulse, no disgruntled breaths. "Oh, look," he says dispassionately. "Someone's not having a panic attack anymore. Congratulations. You've conquered your fears. All you had to do was remember there are worse things than dying."

Klaus gives one violent kick on the door, sending it flying off its hinges. He pushes himself up, stepping out of the safe.

Caroline comes whooshing in, eyes wide as she takes in the state of the safe, the way Stefan is still down, cowering from the sudden burst of luminosity.

"What did you do to him?" she demands.

Klaus' mouth inches upward into the barest hint of a grin, no mirth whatsoever. "I fixed him."