#i need to hug that old- i mean young man

[dragonbma]

“They must have flipped it. Your skills are latent.

Oh… The desolate dirt, the raw, scorched earth. It’s a trophy of your worth.”

“This mess that you've made, it's a six-foot grave.

It's a home for your lonesome bones that remain.

We'll disappear, but you'll stay here to rot as The King of The Dark and Forgot…”

P.S. Can’t believe MC:SM season 2 is another year older. 🎂

Yeah, I’ve said it before but I can’t shut up about how the cage looks like an upside down enchanting table.

[gghostwriter]

Death of a Love Affair

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: The three times you understood and the final time you couldn’t.

Warning: angst with no happy ending

A/n: this felt oddly personal to me this is my first time writing in the Y/N perspective and in a one shot format so please be kind. I kinda left a possibly for p2, not sure about that yet, but let me know if that’s something you’d be interested in!

Main masterlist || Part 2A (happy end) || Part 2B (sad end)

The first time it happened, you completely understood. 

You had an inkling as to what you were getting into when you started dating a 187 genius who graduated at a young age and who was scouted straight from college by the FBI. It wasn’t hard to comprehend these external circumstances mixed with his internal need to prove himself worthy of belonging with the big boys would result in missed personal events. It was a given, you expected it.

You just didn’t count on him missing your graduation. After all, he gave his word that he’ll be there to see you walk the stage and receive your diploma. He promised you and yet, as you scanned the crowd of loved ones hugging the attendees, there was no sign of his tie wearing, button up lithe form weaving through the crowd, no sign of his slicked hair, meticulously tucked behind his ears and no sign his doe eyed hazel eyes shining with pride as you joined the ranks of adulthood and unemployment.

You reach for your phone, now finally free from the nerves and adrenaline of going up the stage, with a single unread message from the one you wished to be here with you.

I’m sorry, angel. There’s a case and Gideon needs me. 

You sighed with a mild smile sprouting on your glossed lips as you sent back a reply.

No worries! We can celebrate when you get back. Be safe, I love you.

“Oh honey, I’m so proud of you!” Your mom exclaimed, reaching for a hug. “You graduated and with so many achievements—I mean look at all these cords hanging around your neck!”

You laughed as you stepped out from her warm embrace and watched joyful tears gather under her eyes. “Thanks, Mom! Hopefully all these cords help me get a job soon, huh, or else I’ll be moving back home with you.”

“Oh honey, stop joking! As if I wouldn’t welcome you back with open arms,” she quipped back. 

A hand holding a bouquet of flowers shot up to your face. It was a bundle of your favorite, carnations, in ranges of different colors. 

“Congratulations, lil sis,” your older brother, Trevor, breathed out. “Do I get a hug too or is that just for Mom?” 

You giggled as you stepped into his arms, happy to be sharing this moment with your ever loving protector of a brother, no matter how busy he might be as a head chef for his own highly rated restaurant.

“Hey big brother, thanks for being here,” you mumbled in his tight grasp. “Did you pass along my invite to Dad?” 

You felt him subtly shake his head causing your smile to slightly falter. You knew better than to expect the man who gifted you half of his genes to show up—a workaholic, absentee of a father whose love language was to deposit checks to your bank account from his fattened pockets as a lawyer for the rich. It was the cause of your parents’ separation when you were five years old. The matriarch tired from taking up the mantle as both the paternal and maternal figure for both you and your brother. Your mother exhausted from repeatedly believing broken promises uttered to herself and to her babies.

Having seen first hand how each lie wrapped as an oath chipped a piece of the loving and bright woman who gave birth to you and your brother, you vowed to never let that happen to you. It was a cautionary tale engrained in your mind. A fable—a curse really and in hindsight, you should have seen the markings of history repeating itself.

“Now, where is your nerdy pipe cleaner of a boyfriend?” He asked as he scanned around the vicinity for a sight of Spencer.

You shrugged, genuinely alright with your FBI agent of a boyfriend missing this milestone in your life. “Duty called. But that’s okay, we’ll celebrate when he gets back.” 

A pair of eyes, similar to yours, inquisitively studied you as if making sure there was no hidden hurt behind those words uttered. “If you say so,” he stated, turning to your mother who was smiling at the both of you—her greatest treasures. “Mom, let’s get out of here. I had John prep the kitchen for a feast.” 

You and your mom chattered excitedly at the passenger back seat as Trevor backed the four-door navy sedan out of the parking and drove off to his restaurant for the promised lunch graduation.

———

It was well into the night as you were settling in bed when the tell-tale signs of the main door being unlocked echoed through the dark green walls of his apartment. 

“Spence?” You called out, letting him know that you were there instead of in your own apartment, 30 minutes away. 

More shuffling was heard before the object of your love and affection rounded the bedroom door with a set of his own flowers on hand. He breathed out your name in reverence as he went for a kiss, pleased that he had still caught you awake.

“Congratulations, my love,” he smiled as he pulled away from your soft lips. “These are for you and I’m sorry I couldn’t be there.” 

You smiled back, gladly accepting his apologies and flowers. “It’s all good, Spence. I know how demanding your job is. I missed you.” 

“I missed you too. I told Gideon and Hotch that’ll I’ll be unavailable this weekend. It’s just you and me,” he said as he went in for another kiss, unable to resist any longer. Not long after, his outside clothes and your sleepwear were strewn all around the bedroom floor as both your bodies merged into one and reached a mutual crescendo with your gasps and his groans as the choir. 

***

The second time, you moderately understood.

You noted that the BAU was back in full swing with Gideon being brought back to the saddle after what happened in Boston. As his birthday treat, you both agreed to fly in for the weekend to Vegas to visit his mother at the facility. He never would have gone alone should it not have been for your enthusiasm to come with. You loved talking to Diana about Spencer’s childhood during her good days and you also loved being in her presence still even when she was lost in her teaching past—acting out as a student as you got to hear her lectures about literature. 

The bustling at the airport had you tip toeing up to catch a sight of Spencer, your flight departing in about an hour. It was a late Friday afternoon, travelers were piling in for a weekend trip, and he promised to head straight from the Bureau to the airport to meet you by the entrance. Your head swiveled from left to right, biting your lip as the minutes ticked by with no sign of your boyfriend running towards you.

The phone in your jean pocket rang and your heart slightly dropped at the sight of the caller ID.

“Hey pretty boy,” you greeted, naively wishing that this phone call wasn’t a bearer of bad news. “Are you almost at the airport?” 

There were muffled voices heard in the background. “Uhm—actually—”

You sighed, understanding what he wanted to say. “There’s a case,” you stated as a matter of fact. “It’s alright, Spence. I’ll tell your mom something popped up. No worries.” 

“You—you don’t have to go alone. We can always reschedule,” he suggested, the timber of his voice going up an octave as if he was in a panic at the idea of disappointing you.

“You and I both know Diana’s excited about this trip,” you chuckled as you recalled how her doctor had described his mother’s face lighting up every time she was reminded of the visit. “I’ll go and spend some time with her. Maybe even get her to tell me more embarrassing childhood stories about her perfect boy.”

He lightly laughed at your joke to ease the tension and remorse he was feeling. “I could have told you all of it if you just asked.”

“Well, does it include pictures of you too?” You teased as you were checking in at the counter.

There was a stern voice calling for his name in the background, it was Hotch, you silently guessed. 

“Listen, I have to go. The team is about to give the profile,” he rushed out to inform you. “I’ll see you when we both get back. I love you.” 

The call ended without so much of a chance for you to say it back.

As the plane got ready to take off, your mood continued to further dampen. He promised to go—to you and to his own mother via the phone. An ivy seed of doubt was planted in your mind. Did he try to excuse himself from the case to his boss as some sort of birthday gift? It really didn’t work that way, you knew, with how of a high demand his job is but still, you wondered if his team was informed about the plans for this weekend or were they purposely kept out of the loop. That notion wouldn’t surprise you at the slightest, thinking back. The profilers weren’t even aware of his mother’s state and condition. Hell, they didn’t even know that you existed, a girlfriend of two years, until well into his first year at the BAU. 

Deep down you grasped why he keeps Diana a secret. You were aware of the shame and embarrassment he felt for himself, having had to have her institutionalized by the time he reached the age of eighteen. You got that, didn’t mean you understood it but nonetheless, you respected his decision and was even proud of him for reaching out for professional help no matter how much he viewed that action of his cowardly. But what you weren’t really privy to was really why your relationship was kept in the dark. It could have saved him from Morgan’s incessant ribbing of his inability to pick up women.

During one night where your insecurities got the best of you, you asked in a small voice if he was ashamed of the relationship. He vehemently denied it, repeatedly saying that he just wanted to have a secret solace—a happy home to return to that was untouched by the worst human terrors that he encounters on the daily. That was what you were, he explained, a sunlit luscious reprieve filled with flowers and laughter where he could rest his weary bones from the ravaging, dark waves. His own piece of heaven here on earth. He then kissed your fears away that night, hugged you tight into his chest—the vibrations from his humming lulling you to slumber.

———

“I always knew it would take a special girl to understand my special boy,” Diana mused out loud as you plated a slice of cake for her. 

You blushed, sitting down beside her with your own. “He’s perfect. I wouldn’t trade him for anyone else.” 

She affectionately combed through your hair, similar to how her son would. “Thank you. For visiting and being understanding of his erratic schedule.”

“It’s no problem at all, Diana. I love him, I knew what I was getting into when we started dating.” You stated as the ivy seed of doubt sprouted in your mind—did you really? Did you really understand what you were getting into?

***

The third time, you still tried to understand.

There you were surrounded by the purest celebration of love and matrimony, sans your long-haired, sweater vest wearing plus one. Your brother was getting married to the love of his life, vowing himself to be with her for better, for worse and your other half was in another state catching criminals. Fiddling with the diamond engagement ring adorning your finger, you recalled how you ended up alone, dateless, in this joyous occasion. 

You RSVP’ed with a date when the invitation arrived four months ago. Your brother even calling in to make sure that he, your well-celebrated FBI fiancée, will be able to attend a month before the wedding. You internally scoffed at his repeated checking but in retrospect, maybe he saw the end well before you did. You promised to him, as Spencer did to you, that he’ll be available to watch the union and to save all the slow dances with him. But the day before the wedding, the phone rang for a case in Dallas and you knew what it meant. Without so much of a fight, you kissed him goodbye by the door of his now shared apartment and let the dreary silence enveloped you as you think of how to inform your brother of the new change without hearing the pity and patronization in his voice. 

Nursing a glass of red wine, you watched your brother dance with his newly wedded wife and in your peripheral, you spotted your mother approaching you at the table. 

“Now why are you being such a sourpuss during this festive event?” She chimed out as she pulled a chair beside you. “You should be out there, dancing and getting to know our new extended family.” 

You shrugged, unsure on what to say. She was right, of course. All the guests were enjoying themselves and basking in the warm, infectious glow of the happy couple but you didn’t have the courage in you to mask the despondent emotions inside of you.

Your mother sighed and took your left hand in hers. “You know, when your dad and I were going through the proceedings of the divorce, I had moments when I wanted to back out from it. I loved your father, still holds a piece of my heart till this day, and I thought the small moments of happiness when he was around would be enough to tied me through the days when he wasn’t. I thought those times and our love for you kids were sufficient to keep our love from wilting. If I poured out affection and devotion to the home we once built, it wouldn’t crumble surely. But you know what I forgot—”

You turned to face her somber eyes, looking into yours as if searching for something that seemed to no longer be there. 

“—I forgot to take care of myself. I gave a pieces of me away so willing and so many times that when I reached the end of the marriage, I no longer knew who I was. Where the piece of me started and where it ended. You’re withering, my flower. The vibrant life that I once longed to protect in your eyes is slowly dying. I don’t want you to reach the finish line and not know how you got up there. How you ended up giving all yourself away with not a flower bud left to blossom just for you.” 

You felt your hackles rise to defend the relationship. In hindsight, this was you denying the truth that was staring you right in the face. “It’s not like that with Spencer, Mom. It’s just—the job is hectic and it’s been his forever dream. He had finally started to gain his footing when Gideon and Elle left and then the kidnapping happened and that pushed his progress back a bit. But he’s getting there now. We’re stabilizing and we had a discussion—there’s less broken promises. It’s just that this recent case in Dallas was urgent and they needed the team to solve crime. I don’t want to take him away from the country and the people who needs his help and from his dream of solving crimes. I love him, Mom, in all of his entirety and he deserves all the respect and understanding from me as his partner.” 

She squeezed the hand in hers—the left hand adorning the ring, the material manifestation of his vow to you that you had happily accepted. “I‘ve grown fond of Spencer. I see him as another son of mine but darling, sometimes the love you feel for each other is not enough. A relationship takes continuous work—a task that both individuals must pull in the effort and prioritize. Just think about it,” she stated as she stood up. “Now, no more of this depressing talk and this serious energy from you. Go around, dance with your brother, and enjoy.” 

You mustered up a smile as you proceeded to do just what you were told until your feet were sore from all the dancing. But no matter the joyous occasion, it didn’t stop the realization in the form of ivy from taking roots and slowly covering all corners of your mind. 

***

And the final time, you could no longer understand.

The grandfather clock stationed at the corner of the dimly lit apartment struck at two. Your figure was still dressed in your purple fitted dress as you waited for your soon-to-be other half to walk through the door. It was another night of getting your hopes up and broken promises and you were no longer sure how much you could take before the love you held in your heart festers and turns into resentment. 

You promised yourself you’d never be in a situation that you had seen your mother once be in. You became the careful daughter of a careless man who gave little to no effort to cherish the love a woman had freely given to him. You thought with all your cautiousness and logical thinking, the mistakes of the mother would never be repeated. That was naive thinking—you realized now. By actively being aware of the past, you’d forgotten to look ahead and fell deep into the pitfalls of doing the same as your mother did.

Spencer once mentioned that there was a high divorce rate in his line of duty. How he worried and vowed that you both will never join that rate. And that was a promise he’ll be able to keep, you scoffed to yourself, as you spun the ring on the table.

Another shared piece of information floated to the forefront of your mind. How Haley had recently served Hotch, his unit chief divorce papers. You’ve grown close with her over the years, being the only two constant partners to someone working in the BAU. You’ve seen first hand all the missed milestones in Haley’s and Jack’s life as her husband flew around the country with the cavalry, saving the innocent one case at a time. Never taking the time to realize that the once solid foundation of their marriage was crumbling down with every flight he took. Similar to what was happening in the doctor’s own home. 

A set of keys unlatched the mahogany door and a fresh batch of florals were the first that entered through, followed by Spencer looking sheepish as he noted your presence by the sofa. “Angel, I’m so sorry I missed your promotion dinner.” 

Silence greeted him as he stumbled to get to where you were. “Carnations for you.” 

Tears started to form under your eyes. You didn’t want to break but the reality of your decision was setting in. You wanted to falter, to change your mind, to give him another chance but you knew you couldn’t. You’ve given too much of your understanding away and you doubted you have any more to give to this beautiful man who once promised to make you his top priority. 

“I can’t accept them, Spencer.” 

His eyebrows furrowed and his body tensing as if sensing the finality behind your words. “Why not? They’re your favorite.” 

“They are but—” you took a deep breath, steeling your resolve. “—I think we should stop.” 

“W-what? No. No, please,” he stammered out as his own set of tears started flooding his eyes, blurring you from his vision. “I’m sorry I missed the dinner. I’ll make it up to you—I promise just—”

The dam of your emotions broke causing you to freely sob out all the sadness and anger that had collected in your heart. “I’m tired, Spencer. You can’t promise anything to me anymore. You’ve broken so many promises that you’ll only end up breaking them again.” 

He took your hands into his, letting the bouquet fall crushed on the hardwood floor, recognizing the ring missing in your finger. “This time, this time it’ll be different. Please, don’t leave me.” 

“The country needs you, the BAU needs you. But I need you too, Spencer. I love you, I really do but I can’t be your third priority anymore. I don’t deserve that—don’t I deserve to come first before the country and the job?” 

He tightened his hold on your hands as if afraid that you were slipping through his fingers, denying the reality that you already had. “I love you so much. I don’t want to live without you by my side. Tell me how to fix this. Do you want me to leave the BAU? I’ll—I’ll do it, just stay with me, please.” 

You shook your head. “I don’t want you to leave the FBI. Your ambition and integrity is one of the facets that I loved about you and you might end up resenting me down the line if you leave now. It’s not yet your time to leave the BAU, you and I both know that,” you pulled your hands away and slid the ring in front of him. “This belongs to you, I’m giving it back.” 

His shoulder caved in on itself, the weight of it all too much for him to carry. “I don’t want this to be our end. I just don’t.” 

“I don’t want this too, but I need to,” you whispered as your hand reached out to push shoulder length hair out of the way. “Maybe this isn’t the end. Maybe in the future we’d meet again and continue the pages of our love story but for now, I have to do this Spencer. I can’t keep giving a piece of me every time your top priority needs you, I’ll end up hating you if I stay.” 

You leaned in for one final kiss. A salty, tear filled kiss of death to a future you had once envisioned with the beautiful boy before you. A white picket fence with children laughing at the backyard—the American dream fading into nothing as you start to pull away.

“Goodbye for now, Spencer.”

He stared at all the curves and dips in your face one last time as if etching every detail into his already perfect memory.

“Goodbye for now, Y/N.”

[hemmingsleclerc]

A cute first impression ┃CL16

summary: where Charles goes to pick up his daughter from kindergarten and meets Jules' pretty teacher

In the Sunshine Kindergarten classroom, Y/N stood in the middle of some colorful drawings of her little students, her heart melting at the innocent and focused expressions of them. "Very well, everyone," she announced with a soft but firm voice, "today we are going to draw the most important people in our lives and at the end everyone will come forward to explain their drawings to us, is that okey?."

A chorus of ''yes'' was heard throughout the classroom.

Excited laughter filled the room as the children eagerly picked up their crayons and paper. Y/N moved around the room, offering encouragement and helping when needed. Among the sea of ​​drawings, one in particular caught her attention: a sweet representation of a man, a woman and a girl, smiling widely and hugging each other with a small detail on the side, a red racing car.

Curious, Y/N approached young artist Julianne, a five-year-old girl with bright green eyes and pigtails with little ribbons that bounced as she worked on her masterpiece. "Julianne, can you tell us about your drawing?" Y/N asked with a warm smile once everyone had finished.

Julianne looked up, her eyes shining with excitement. "This is me and my papa," she exclaimed proudly, pointing to her paper. "And that's my papa's car!" she added, pointing to the scrawled image of a car next to them. "And this is you, Miss Y/N," she continued, turning her gaze to her teacher, "because I love you very much."

Y/N felt her heart melt at Julianne's words. She knelt down next to the girl and wrapped her in a gentle hug. "Thank you, Julianne," she whispered, touched by the sincerity of her favorite student.

As the children began sharing their drawings with the class, Y/N couldn't help but feel proud of her students' creativity and affection. At the end of class, Y/N helped all of her little students pick up their things and put their backpacks in order to then chat a little with their mothers. When Julianne's father arrived a little late to pick her up, something in the room changed.

Julianne squealed with joy when she saw her father, running into his arms as he picked her up and spun her around. Laughter filled the room as they shared a joyful reunion.

After saying goodbye to her classmates, Julianne remembered her forgotten backpack and ran back to the classroom, followed closely by her father. "Look, papa," she exclaimed, tugging at her father's sleeve, "this is my teacher, Miss Y/N!"

At that moment their eyes met for the first time, since normally her grandmother was the one who picked up little Julianne. "Hello, Miss Y/N," he greeted, his voice soft but a little shaky.

Y/N smiled warmly and felt a light blush rise to her cheeks. "Hello, Mr. Leclerc," she replied timidly, returning his gaze. ''Charles'' ''Excuse me?'' ''Call me Charles''

As they exchanged words, Julianne excitedly explained her drawing to her father, her joy contagious. Charles listened attentively, his heart swelling with pride at his daughter's words.

Before leaving, Charles turned to Y/N with a shy smile. "Jules mentioned that tomorrow there will be a small festival to celebrate spring and that all the mothers will come to see their children," he began hesitantly, "could I… attend?"

Y/N's smile widened at his request. "Of course yes Mr- I mean Charles," she responded warmly, her heart fluttering with joy.

As they said goodbye, Charles leaned toward Julianne and whispered softly, "She's very pretty, don't you think?"

Julianne nodded enthusiastically, her eyes shining with agreement. ''Of course she is very pretty papa''

After that, they both headed home to see what little Jules would wear to the festival the next day, and Charles would also go to see what he would wear to talk to his daughter's cute teacher again and maybe ask her out for a drink.

But just maybe

(He definitely would)

[mrskokushibo]

Wrong?

Muzan x fem!reader x Yoriichi

Warnings: Smut, rough sex, dub con, threesome, watching corn, very NSFW, 18+. Modern AU. 7k words.

Summary: Your boyfriend Muzan is a star, and you love being his girl. But the man has needs that you have been neglecting for a while. Tonight will start a chain of events that will have you asking yourself if sex and love in a relationship truly should be inseparable?

A/N: I loved creating this storyline. This is a request from a friend. The only thing she asked for was Muzan's girlfriend falling for Yoriichi. It's one of my favourite stories to write - I got to spread my creative wings.

Masterlist

The club was full tonight, hosting the release party for a new book by one of the most prominent writers in the city. The venue was an old factory building, stylishly renovated with a mixture of white rendered walls, exposed brick, and steel structure, decorated with an eclectic and carefully curated selection of furniture ranging from sleek Scandinavian design armchairs to rococo sofas and chandeliers.

A place that quickly became a favourite with the cultural circles of the city. It was also the home of a popular nightclub on the weekends as well as the venue of choice for a society hosting slightly, well, different types of events, namely invitation-only orgies, that your boyfriend and subsequently yourself were always invited to, but had to decline due to your unwillingness to participate in anything like that.

Tonight’s event was the kind you gladly accompanied him to. As always on such occasions, your boyfriend Muzan Kibutsuji was one of the guests of honour. He was a young star writer, specialising in dark horror and fantasy, having sold over a million copies of his first novel at the tender age of twenty-three. Now, five years later and with another few million books sold, he was among the literary elites. He also had a background in acting, although there was a veil of mystery as to what type of movies, he was in.

You too were a writer and the two of you met at a seminar hosted by your favourite Japanese superstar novelist. Well, you would be lying to yourself if you thought you actually were a professional writer, more of an aspiring writer, really. Your studies and work took up most of your time, so the only writing you did was manga and anime fanfiction. Yes, you felt very inadequate at these parties, but you quickly adjusted to assuming the role of the supportive and devoted girlfriend of the literary star.

And tonight, was no different. You wore a brand new, figure-hugging little black dress and high-heeled thigh-high leather boots. Simple, but sexy. For the last half hour, you were standing idly sipping your champagne, while Muzan was involved in a heated debate with some older, seemingly unimpressed author and his artist friends. You were a little tipsy and were hugging Muzans arm all the while he was busy talking.

He was such a hottie, you thought, you saw the envious looks on the faces of his female colleagues every time he brought you with him to any event. Yes, you could consider yourself lucky. His looks were striking, as he was essentially an albino, meaning his eyes were red and his hair white and wavy, but he always coloured it black. The monochromatic colour combination together with his masculine yet defined and delicate features gave him an exotic and almost out-of-earthly aura. His muscular arms were covered with intricate black gothic tattoos (he had tattoos in other, more intimate places too) and he sported a tongue piercing. His style was a bit steampunk blended with hard rock, he looked good in suits and ripped jeans alike. And he stood almost six feet tall.

The boredom of just standing around was slowly leaving room for thoughts other than literature, you were getting a little horny, to be completely honest with yourself. You were into your third glass of champagne and were slightly tipsy, the ambient rhythmic music, warm dimmed lighting, and the buzz of people talking were putting you into a pleasant lull, making your senses pliable and receptive to new impressions.

Out of nowhere, you started to imagine what it would be like when an orgy is hosted here… the throaty moans and high-pitched squealing of female pleasure mixed with the deep raspy grunts of the men, loud screams of people climaxing and the wet, squelching pounding of flesh against flesh. You could picture naked bodies, bodies in provocative lingerie, illuminated and glossy in the warm light of the chandeliers. It is almost as if you now suddenly were curious about it…

And that is when you noticed him. That other man. He was standing in the middle of the room deep in a conversation with a group of young people. His appearance stood out in the crowd, he was very tall, probably well over six feet, maybe six feet three, with an athletic build. His hair was long and black, tied in a ponytail with cascades of shorter bangs framing his face. Red highlights illuminated his layered hair. He was dressed in tight black jeans and an equally tight black t-shirt, and was wearing long earrings with what looked like the rising sun. There was a strange red mark on his left temple, a birthmark maybe? You could not help it, but you found yourself staring at his bulging biceps every time he lifted his beer to his lips. You were amused with how boredom brought out such primitive instincts in you. You were interrupted by Muzan who nudged you gently,

‘Would you like another drink?’ 

‘Yes, please’ you replied.

He walked away to the bar while texting someone and smirking. He came back with drinks only to find a new group of colleagues taking his attention. So… you proceeded with your little dirty pastime. Suddenly, the man looked in your direction, a dark maroon gaze piercing straight through you. You froze, and at the same time, a familiar heat was starting to spread in your belly. Wetness was pooling between your legs and you were thanking yourself for wearing panties tonight.

He looked away again, but then his gaze was constantly seeking yours for the rest of the evening. When it was time for you and Muzan to leave, while walking past the group with the gorgeous object of your attention, he suddenly looked you up and down and gave you the most lust-filled gaze you could imagine. You were so stunned you kept on staring at him, your head turning back in his direction while you were leaving the room.

The ride home proceeded in awkward silence; you have never seen Muzan in such a strange mood. When you entered the penthouse, you slouched on the sofa and closed your eyes. You were a little tired from all the impressions, especially that specific one… You opened your eyes feeling the presence of your boyfriend. He was standing in front of you holding handcuffs. ‘Move to the armchair’ he commanded in a deep, raspy whisper, the way he almost hissed the words sent a chill down your spine. ‘What now?’ you thought puzzled.

‘I saw what you were doing all night. You were staring at that man like a shameless slut.’

His words were true, you were indeed staring, but so what, this came from the man who suggested attending orgies in the past.

Perplexed, you retaliated: ‘Am I not allowed to look at people anymore?’

‘Oh, my love, you were not just looking, you were eye-fucking him. Do you think I cannot tell the difference?’

You swallowed and obediently moved to the armchair.

He placed your arms on the rests and slowly cuffed each of them to the furniture. Then he picked up the remote and turned on the projector. What was instantaneously visualized on the screen went straight to your sex. It was a close-up of a man and a woman fucking, with loud, obscene moans serving as the soundtrack. The camera started slowly to move away from the copulating pair and the back of the male came into full view, intricate tattoos spreading over his back like a veil of black lace and long, wavy white hair snaking down his neck and shoulders while his hips were rhythmically moving back and forth to slam his dick into the woman. When the camera moved to show the front of him your heart nearly stopped, the red pupils staring intently at the woman he was railing, that face…. It was Muzan. So that was the acting career he was so mysterious about.

In the meantime, Muzan was in the kitchen part of the open-plan living space, texting someone. You were both completely silent while the sounds of sex were filling the space. A few moments later and a pair of now completely soaking wet panties, the doorbell rang. Muzan walked over to open it. His face was adorned with a mischievous smile as he glanced your way. What happened next was something you did not expect and that started an unstoppable chain of events.

The person Muzan let in the apartment was a woman, a petite blond with hair all the way down to her round ass, dressed in a sleeveless skin-tight latex dress, that showed off her large (most presumably) fake silicone breasts. A real little sex kitten. Muzan led her to the sofa and sat down spreading his legs so that she could kneel between them.

He parted her pouting pink lips with his index finger and slid it deep into her mouth while she released a throaty moan, he then pulled the finger out stroking her bottom lip, only to pump the finger back into her mouth even deeper this time while rotating it. His other hand slid down her dress off her breasts and started slowly caressing them, making her moan even harder. He was pinching her nipples, making her perfect little body arch in pleasure, and looking even hotter. All the while her small manicured hands were stroking his crotch and after her back arched from overstimulation, she unzipped his pants and gently pulled out his now fully erect, hard cock. She was stroking it gently and licking the sensitive tip.

Eventually, she sank her head down on the full length, stretching her shiny, pink lips, gagging a little, and continuing to bob her head up and down on his thick length. His dick was large, so that most of the time she was only getting half of it in her mouth with the rest of the shaft treated to a pumping motion by her delicate hands. He threw his head back; you could tell he was close. Her moans were getting louder too and a few moments later he grabbed her by her ponytail and the back of her head and shoved her down into his groin while bucking his hips upwards. The woman gagged heavily, the sound wet and sloppy. He climaxed.

Once he was finished, he let her head go and she slowly pulled away, gasping for air, with spit and cum connecting her mouth to his penis. She looked him in the eye with a submissive almost grateful look. He was still stroking her breasts, while she was licking up all the cum from her lips and sucking his cock clean. And then, just like that she adjusted her clothes, got up, threw him a little kiss, and walked out of the apartment. The porno on the screen was playing all the while this was happening adding to the already surreal and loaded atmosphere.

You were too stunned to even think, let alone say anything. ‘What the fuck did you just witness?’

Without a word Muzan got up from the sofa and walked up to you, his dick still hanging out of his pants. He knelt in front of you and put his hands on your soft thighs, slowly kneading them up towards your crotch. His hands were getting closer and closer to your wet lips and finally they reached your soaked g-string. Muzan started rubbing you through the wet fabric with two fingers.

‘Fuck you are wet. Such a whore you are, getting wet from watching other people fuck. You are a dirty little kitten, aren’t you?’

You were too ashamed to answer, ashamed that something so wrong and apparently hurtful aroused you. You should have been turning your head away, yelling at him, crying even. But all you did was watch… and get wet.

‘You see, my love, when people get jealous, they sometimes stop thinking, they do stupid things. Do you think, what I did was stupid? Hm? But, you know, I got jealous, very jealous. And when you have been such a prude with me for so long, never wanting to do the things I thought we should do and then go drooling after other men, what do you think I should have done?’ His voice was raspy and menacing, but also filled with lust.

Muzan’s fingers were now slowly spreading your labia and rubbing up and down between your slick-soaked folds. You were so wet, his actions created small squelching sounds. He added another finger and slowly worked his way into your dripping pussy, crooking a finger and pumping in with small circular movements that made your muscles clench around him. He then spread your labia and moved in to lick you between your legs. His was giving you long and slow, gentle licks all the way on the very inside of your labia, you could feel the metal of his tongue piercing leaving a streak of extra pressure and thus enhanced sensation on the thin strips of flesh it was touching.

Gradually, he started to increase the force with which he was working his tongue on you. Wherever the piercing pressed on your sensitive flesh, it was exerting extra pressure on your nerves. When he finally reached your clitoris and started circling around it and occasionally skilfully flicking his tongue so that the piercing would hit the sensitive nub, your thighs were sent into convulsions of pleasure. You were starting to edge, your climax so close yet his actions not decisive enough to grant you release. Your legs were shaking uncontrollably, while he was flicking his tongue over your clit while all the while pumping his fingers into your pussy. You were so close; you were drooling and tears started to form in your eyes.

‘Muzan, please let me come, I’m so close’ you were moaning and squealing and when you thought he was increasing his pace, he suddenly pulled away and started uncuffing you.

‘Go down on all four for me doll.’

 You did what he asked you to, as you were so greedy to come. You now had the porno in full view in front of you and there he was on the screen fucking two women now, one riding his face and the other his dick. Watching that made you so fucking aroused. It was wrong, but you could not help reacting to it in the way you did. You felt like an animal, driven only by instinct at this point.

Without a word, he spread your ass cheeks and aligned his hard tip at your entrance, and soon his thick girth was pumping in and out of your pussy, wet, sloppy, indecent sounds of the two of you fucking on top of the vulgar sounds coming from the porno were filling the otherwise so elegant and relaxing space of your shared apartment. He was thrusting so hard that with every move you were being sent forwards with so much force that eventually your whole upper body was flat on the soft rug with him pressing down your back with his hand. He increased the pressure, supporting himself almost fully on you, and leaned down to whisper in your ear.

‘I will now come inside you my little whore, I will breed you, because you are my very own whore, I bet you would like to carry my little brat, would you?’

With that he increased the pace and strength of his thrusts, you were clenching around him, desperate to come. His hips and lower abdomen were now pressed flush to your round soft ass and you could eventually feel his lower abs contract indicating his release. His orgasm must have been a big one as he growled while pushing himself in you and releasing a huge load of cum into your fluttering insides.

‘Fuck you were good, kitten. I will sleep so well now.’

He pulled out, stood up and grabbed the remote to turn off the movie, and left for the bathroom. You were left high and dry, or so you thought anyway…

When you entered the bedroom Muzan was seated in the chair lounge next to the lit fireplace and opposite of your shared bed, fully dressed sipping on a glass of single malt whisky. The flame was making his eyes look almost devilish.

‘Here you are. I think you do deserve to come after all, we do not want you to lose sleep, do we?’

There was something so menacing in his voice, something that was hitting all the submissive notes in your entire being.

‘Undress for me, doll’

Without hesitation, you started to take your clothes off.

‘All of it, now!’ He commanded.

You did as you were told.

‘Now. Lay down on the bed so I can see between your legs. Play with yourself for me, make yourself come.’

There was nothing else to do, but to obey and you already felt like you were in a trance, as if nothing of this was real. You laid down and started to flick your nipple and got your imagination ready, and the fantasy that was helping you get off involved the tall man from the party, your only invisible act of defiance against your boyfriend. You imagined him seated on a sofa at the party, with everyone watching while you came up to him and straddled him shamelessly. What followed made you move your hand down between your legs and masturbate. Your fingers were doing their skilled and experienced work and very soon you came. Your orgasm was intense, with waves of pleasure causing your body to arch and convulse, you released a small scream and when the waves of pleasure finally flowed away, you were just lying there, limp with soaking wet fingers and pussy. You licked your fingers dry and closed your eyes.

A harsh yank to your chin shook you out of your bliss. You opened your eyes and the only thing in your line of sight was Muzan’s cock.

‘Open your mouth for me now, sweetheart’

The gentle words were in such stark contrast to what he was about to do because as soon as you opened your mouth, he grabbed you by your neck and shoved himself fully into your mouth, making you gag. He stayed like this for a few seconds, savouring how deep inside your throat his dick was seated, and rotated his hips a little. Then he slowly pulled out, only to slam himself into you again, and again and again, until you were a gagging, drooling mess with tears and mascara running down your cheeks. He pulled out, drool connecting your mouth to his dick, and lifted your head up by yanking you up at your ponytail.

‘I think this is a good look for you, isn’t it, doll? My submissive little kitten, so sweet and obedient. ‘

He shoved himself in you again and this time kept on going until you could feel his muscles spasm and the warm, salty liquid filled your mouth and throat. He pumped into you a few extra times before pulling out. You swallowed most of the cum, but there was still some left on his cock.

‘Clean me up.’

You licked his dick clean and he lifted your head by the chin, so very gently now.

‘Hm, we will both sleep well after this, won’t we?’

And he placed the gentlest of kisses on your lips and went into the bathroom to clean himself up. You followed suit, but you knew you would most likely not sleep all too well, still trying to come to terms with what he has done in front of you with that woman, as well as trying to grasp how in the hell was it your fault. Was he really the jealous type?

The following day began with Muzan getting up and making you both coffees. He behaved as if last night did not happen, something that confused and infuriated you even more. Since it was your day off, you decided to head over to the gym to clear your head and hopefully figure out your next move. Both you and Muzan frequented the same gym in the neighbourhood, the gym was large, but with a relaxed atmosphere. There was also a martial arts dojo in conjunction with it that Muzan went to occasionally, but you never showed any interest in.

As soon as you entered the gym, you nearly froze in your steps. There, next to the reception desk was the man from the party, chatting casually with one of the personal trainers. You stalling in your movement caught his attention and he looked straight at you and waved. As if hypnotised you started slowly walking toward him and finally stopped in front of the man. He was so tall, you had to tilt your head up to look at his face.

‘Hi,’ you blurted out.

‘I didn’t know you went to this gym?’

You kept on rambling as if the two of you were already introduced. He looked at you with slight amusement.

‘Yes, I do, and I believe I saw you at the party last night, yes?’

‘Yes.’ You nodded like the idiot you were. For every minute feeling more and more awkward.

‘Well, I guess we should have a proper introduction then. My name is Yoriichi’. He stretched out his hand.

‘Y/n’ you said with overdriven courage as you placed your hand in his large one for a courteous handshake.

‘Excuse me, boss, can you please sign this?’ the two of you were interrupted by an employee of the gym coming up to Yoriichi with some papers. You looked at him and asked surprised.

‘Oh, you work here?’

‘Yes, actually I kind of happen to own the place’ he answered shyly, scratching his head and blushing a little.

While he was busy flipping through the pages you could not help yourself but eye him off discretely and what you saw was waking up the most basic instincts in you. He was wearing cotton tracksuit pants and a singlet in a thin functional material, that showed off his huge toned arms. The outline of his pecs and abs were visible through the thin fabric, you also noted he had powerful, strong thighs, as the fabric of the track pants was stretched at the thickest part of his thigh muscles. You could not help to throw a glance at his shapely glutes and strong hips. When you thought about it, he really had the appearance of some ancient warrior, a samurai maybe. You swallowed quietly, an action he caught you in the middle of.

‘Well, I am done here. I will be taking the rest of the afternoon off today, so I guess I will see you around sometime?’ He spoke.

You just could not let him disappear like this. You gathered your courage and asked

‘Would you have time for a quick coffee then? I changed my mind and will work out later today.’

He studied you for a moment and answered.

‘Why not, actually? I do have the whole day to myself. There is a good café nearby’

You nodded and the two of you started walking out of the gym, him courteously opening the door for you. Luckily, the café really was nearby. You were enjoying your coffee and the casual conversation, but when your fingers met when reaching out for napkins, the two of you went silent almost simultaneously. The truth was that all through the friendly, harmless exchange you were imagining fucking Yoriichi, riding his cock, and touching him in a way that was anything but just friendly. The look in his maroon eyes was starting to reveal something more as well now.

And maybe he could pick up on your feelings because the tension between the two of you was becoming palpable. You were soaking wet between your legs and your breathing was becoming heavy, your arousal was powerful: the contraction of the muscles of your vagina started to feel more and more like a rope being tightly twisted into a knot, and this sensation was now spreading up to your cervix making your insides feel like they were on fire.

He sucked in his lips before finally speaking up.

‘You know, I live just around the corner if you would like to have … some lunch with me.’

As if in a trance you answered

‘Yes, I would like that’

But you already knew what you really would like and sensed that this was something he would like as well…

As soon as you stepped into the elevator, he came closer to you and kissed your lips. Very lightly at first, but as soon as he felt you reciprocate the action, he drew you closer to him and the kiss became deeper, with tongues swirling deep in each other’s mouths. He was holding his hips away from yours for now, most likely due to an increasing hard-on, he was a gentleman after all, and did not want to impose that soon.

His hands were caressing your back and your body started tingling in pleasure. He was so big, you felt cradled and sheltered, and his warm smell was like a feast for your senses. The elevator reached his floor and he led you into his apartment. It was a bright and beautiful space, cradled in light from the large windows, decorated in oriental, presumably Japanese fashion, with tatamis, low large futon like sofas, beautiful prints of Sakura trees and diverse martial arts weaponry adorning the walls.

He closed the door behind him and swiftly had you up against the nearest wall. He lifted you by your buttocks and you wrapped your legs around his hips. All the while you were entangled in a passionate kiss. He lifted you up and started walking toward the bedroom. When he sat you down on the bed, you began to remove each other’s clothes. His body was even more magnificent naked, and the cock looked… huge. Almost uncomfortably huge.

Yoriichi started crawling on the bed and on top of you, his large body towering over you and making you gasp. His warmth, his smell, it was all so close to you and all you wanted was to drown in him, let him devour you and fuck you senseless. He lowered his hips so they were flush with yours between your legs and started rubbing your wet folds and clit. You were moaning in pleasure. With the other hand, he started massaging your breasts and playing with your hard nipples. You were arching your body and moaning shamelessly.

‘Please fuck me, I want to feel you inside me.’

He did not hesitate to fulfill your plea. Aligning the tip of his cock with the entrance to your sopping-wet pussy, he started to enter you.

He was big, almost too big for your small body to take. Slowly and steadily, he was prying his way into you. Every nerve in your core was pulsing, welcoming this new intruder with increasing wetness and spasming muscles. Your pussy was clenching on him so hard that he was quietly groaning while pushing on into you. He finally bottomed out and lifted himself off you slightly to meet your gaze. His gorgeous maroon eyes now clouded in pleasure, he said softly,

‘I will start moving now, do you feel ready?’

Did you ever… ‘Of course,’ was all you could say in a weak voice.

Slowly, at a languid pace, he began to rhythmically pump into you, his hips hitting yours every time he was bottoming out. You have never been this stretched out in your life, his girthy, long cock literally moulding your velvet walls to its shape, hitting your cervix with every slow pump. You were starting to edge, with the sensitive spots deep inside you being stimulated nearly constantly now. He kept on going like this for a while making your eyes roll to the back of your head and drool running down the side of your mouth.

‘Yoriichi, can you go a little faster? I am about to come’ you moaned out to him, as you could not control yourself any longer. The knot inside you running all the way from your opening to the tip of your cervix, was about to burst.

He picked up the pace and soon enough you were slowly dissolving into your climax, your whole body shaking and spasming from the intense pleasure you were gifted. You were so wet now, your cum seeping down your thighs onto Yoriichi. He shuffled himself up slightly and put you in a mating press. His cock was even deeper inside you, he started chasing his own release. His pace increased and soon it was ruthless and fast, abusing your cervix and every overstimulated spot deep inside you. You could feel his heavy balls slam into you with every powerful thrust. The man had the stamina of a god and went on in this unforgiving tempo for quite a while.

Gradually, his thrusts were getting sloppy and when he finally came, filling you up with his warm semen, he bottomed out deep inside you, his hips pushing you up toward the headrest of the bed and staying like this for a couple of seconds. He then pumped into you a few times, following the movement of his spasming abdomen muscles. When he stopped, he sank his head, still hovering over you supported on stretched-out straight arms. Sweat was running down his chest. He slowly rolled over on his back, taking you with him in an embrace that placed you laying down straight on top of him.

And that is when you noticed a presence in the room. You turned your head around towards the doorway and to your shock and surprise you saw your boyfriend stand there, leaning on the door frame with arms crossed and head tilted backwards in a brattish manner. His hair was out and cascading down his shoulder in black ringlets.

‘I hope I am not interrupting. Do you mind if I join in?’ He asked with a smirk. You instantly wondered how long he was there watching you and Yoriichi fucking.

‘Please do, unless y/n has some objections?’ Yoriichi said and tilted your head up to look at him. ‘Are you ok with this, y/n? ‘

‘I guess I don’t mind’ You did not really know what to say, your sex seemingly dictating your choices for you since last night.

‘Good, this will be fun.’ Muzan said and started to get undressed.

In the meantime, Yoriichi moved to his side and let you down on the soft mattress, so that you were on your side facing him. With an already erect dick bobbing in front of him, Muzan walked over to where you and Yoriichi were and crawled into bed to lie down behind you. He kissed and licked your neck, you could feel the metal of the piercing dragging on your soft skin, and grabbed one of your breasts, squeezing it gently, eliciting a quiet moan from your lips. He then leaned into your ear and with a deep, soft whisper asked:

‘How did you like him, doll? Was he big enough for you?’

He kept on kissing your neck and dragging the pierced tongue along it and massaging your body with his hand while pressing his erect cock in your soft ass. Yoriichi at the very same time started kissing your mouth and rubbing your breasts.

You did not think it was at this stage possible to get more aroused, but you did. Your pussy was aching so badly now, all you wanted was for the men to give it to you. Rough, fast however they wished to fuck you. You wanted to feel full, the craving growing for every minute making your insides burn with need. The sensation of both these attractive men being so close to you, their hands touching every part of your body, was making you feral, totally wild with anticipation. Seeing and feeling the athletic, tall, and big Yoriichi, with his smooth and glossy skin and your exotic-looking, tattoo-covered and pierced boyfriend so close to your own body was a sensation that was driving you crazy. It was almost as you were a goddess worshipped at the altar of lust.

‘How do you think we should proceed?’ Muzan asked Yoriichi in a playful tone.

‘Hmm, where we are is good, no offense, but I am the bigger one here, so I think it is best if you go in the backway’ Yoriichi answered.

Muzan sighed and smirked. ‘Good point, do you happen to have lube around here?’ Yoriichi stretched an arm behind him to reach under the bed and pulled out a bottle of anal lube.

‘You dirty fuck, this looks like you have been having some fun’ Muzan noted as the bottle was only half full.’ Yoriichi did not answer to that but his smile said it all.

While Yoriichi was working on your pussy and breasts, Muzan poured a fair bit of lube on your opening and started to massage your puckering hole. Slowly and gently, the sensation was so different from anything you ever experience before, but so delicious at the same time. He slowly pushed in a finger and was circling it gently. A second finger came in and he was scissoring them inside you. Yoriichi was now lining himself up to enter you again. His hard tip rubbing between your folds as Muzan added another finger and was whispering sweet, honey-glazed words in your ears in order to get you relaxed.

‘Be a good kitten for me now, such a gorgeous little obedient doll, I will spread that tight little ass for you and you will beg me for more’

The sweetness in his voice was almost demeaning. He kept on pumping his fingers in you, but you just could not relax.

‘Baby, I can’t do it. Not today. Can we do something else?’

Muzan pulled out his fingers out of you and nodded at Yoriichi

‘Well, doll, in such case you will have to take that huge dick of his down your throat, because I want to be in one of your holes, no matter what.’

You shifted to all four and Yoriichi knelt in front of you offering you his cock. You started licking the leaking tip and pumping the shaft with your small hand, barely getting a proper grip. In the meantime, Muzan positioned himself behind you and all of a sudden slammed his dick into you. This propelled you forward and you almost speared yourself on Yoriichi’s cock, swallowing nearly the entire length. He groaned from the sensation and you gagged heavily. Once the two of you adjusted positions so that you could comfortably work on his dick, Muzan started moving his hips into you again. You worked with the rhythm he was setting as there was no use trying to stay still and resisting his movement from pushing you forward. Every time his hips slammed into you, you sank your mouth over Yoriichi’s cock and you continued like this for a good while.

Your mouth and throat were stretched almost to the brink of discomfort from the huge girth and length. The pleasure you felt from Muzan repeatedly hitting your g-spot was making you moan louder and louder and your moans were sending vibrations through Yoriichi’s dick making it twitch and grow.

‘I’m going to come soon’ he groaned.

He pulled out of you, gave his cock a few pumps and unloaded the content of his balls in your face, warm cum spraying into your open mouth and down your chin and throat. Neither you nor Muzan were far off from your orgasms either. It took a few more fast thrusts from him to make your knot burst and you reaching your release. And a few more thrusts later and Muzan was spraying his cum into your still fluttering walls. The amount of pleasure you experience this afternoon was overwhelming and you collapsed exhausted, but utterly satisfied on the mattress.

Yoriichi got up and came back with a few towels. He helped you clean up your face and handed a towel to Muzan who then cleaned you and yourself up. Yoriichi was the first one to go to the bathroom and have a shower and after him, it was Muzan’s turn. Once the two men were decent again, Yoriichi informed you that they would prepare lunch so that you would have some time to yourself to recover and relax. You spent half an hour in the bedroom and went out to them, still in a complete state of confusion.

‘Hi there. I hope you are hungry.’ Yoriichi said.

‘I seem to have cooked too much pasta, but hey, we need the energy’ he grinned broadly. ‘By the way, I think you owe your lovely girlfriend an explanation’ he said turning to Muzan.

‘Yes, you are right. It is about time to clarify the situation. Sorry to have confused you and sorry for the bit with Amber, I might have gone a bit too far there. You know when I got up to get the drinks at the party? I noticed that you were eyeing off Yoriichi for a while, and out of the blue, and boredom, I came up with a wicked little plan. Something to shake you up and make you more, adventurous. I really wanted to get you out of your shell. So, I texted him quickly what I had in mind and off we went. I am storyteller, after all.’

You turned to Yoriichi, slightly disappointed

‘So… you were not really attracted to me, hey? It was just a game?’

Yoriichi responded ‘Oh no, not at all. Muzan showed me picturess of you many times before and I must say I was envious of him being with someone so smart, kind, and attractive. So, when he suggested this, the idea went straight to my dick.’

Muzan now continued: ‘Amber, that girl, by the way, is a porn actress and married to a friend of mine. They own an adult movie production company together and I have known them both for a while. But back to the story. As I said, I wanted you to see that there is so much more to life than being a prude, that sex is one of the most indulgent pleasures gifted upon mankind and not immersing ourselves fully in that gift is, well, a sin in my eyes.'

'I do believe that deep emotional love, a connection of souls runs deeper than any physical connection ever can. We are all animals and sex is dirty and amazing at the same time, the ultimate tool to express love, yes, but love can exist without it if you know what I mean. I will love you forever, for all eternity. I believe we are soulmates and we are connected and will always be drawn to each other in every world we are born into. Even if we never have sex again, I want you to be mine and mine only. When you want kids and a house with a white picket fence or whatever dream you may have, we will do it, of course. But for now, while we still are young let us indulge in what this carnal world has to offer. I want you to lose all restraints, and fulfill all your desires. When I saw you looking at our glorious friend here, I knew that if that is what you are into, I will make sure you get what you desire.’

When Muzan finally went quiet, it was Yoriichi’s turn to speak and he suddenly went serious.

‘I have known Muzan for a long time, but our friendship blossomed after my wife died. He was there for me all the way through my lowest. And believe me, it was an epic low. She was pregnant with what was to be our first child when she died in a car crash. Some drunken asshole drove into her car on the highway. My beloved wife and I started the gym and later the martial arts dojo together. These were our passions and I will never love anyone like I loved her ever again. All I have left is the gym and dojo and they are like babies to me. I am no monk and need sex, a lot of it, but only for recreation.’

All the time Yoriichi was speaking, Muzan held his arm around your back, his embrace tightening when Yoriichi mentioned the tragic story of his marriage.

‘Well, enough of the seriousness. Let us eat’ Yoriichi interrupted himself now.

You could not help to notice, that he was not the best of cooks, the pasta was slightly overcooked and the sauce too salty, but it was a sweet gesture of him to cook for his friends and by the way you were starving after everything that was happening for the past twenty-four hours. The wine he served with lunch was on the other hand fantastic and after a couple of glasses, the warm, fuzzy feeling of slowly getting tipsy was putting you in a relaxed state.

Looking at the two amazing men, you now started to understand what your boyfriend was talking about and wanted for you all the way. The normal scenario would involve you having to choose one of them, there would be drama, heart-brake and the euphoria of new love would eventually dim by the negative effects of it all. Thanks to Muzan’s approach, however, you never needed to choose now. The love the two of you shared was just as he described, transcending space and time. But the basic, carnal desire you felt for Yoriichi was also real. Being able to have it all, and more… was indeed the best you could ever wish for. Assured in this new discovery, you closed your eyes and let yourself daydream now finally receptive to visualise desires without any more restraints…

Banners by @cafekitsune

Tagging: @doumadono @muzanbloodgalore @muzansfangs @horror4themasses @cursetopia2 @anarcho-satanism

[jyoongim]

May I please request some Alastor fluff where he and reader are married in Hell, but he later finds out reader was actually married in her life before and now he keeps asking about her old husband and keeps trying to out-do him even though reader never really compared the two before?

"Oh he brought you flowers? That's nice. *Magically poofs up a whole a garden behind the hotel* I can do better though."

Obviously burning with jealousy like how dare reader get married to someone else beside him. Like ye, he died about a whole century before reader was even born but that's beside the point.

Bonus if said husband shows up later in hotel and he and reader aren't really romantically involved anymore but are good friends but Al's eye still twitches in annoyance whenever he's around.

Never mention that there was once another man in your life besides Alastor.

You were sitting in the lounge with Angel chatting. He had made a dirty joke on how you had ‘Mr. Fancy Talk’ wrapped around your finger. “What yer got a thing for older men toot?” He laughed. You glared playfully at him, admitting that you had been married to an older man when you were living. This led to you talking about your first husband.

”Wait so you tellin me that another guy got the goods before Fancypants? Ha!” You blushed, rolling your eyes. “No no I mean YES but it wasn’t a great marriage”

You gushed at how great of a husband Alastor, how attentive and caring he was towards your needs. Your first husband was a great man, but you were young when you married him and the only thing he was concerned about was you keeping the house clean, cooking, and work. 

Your decent to Hell was a result of your marriage. You had felt like you weren’t the best wife and your husband didn’t really spend time with you. It really took a toll on your emotional and mental being. But you held no ill will towards the man you once married.

With Alastor you THRIVED. He made you feel loved ironic ain’t it and tended to all of your needs. Alastor gave you anything you desired.

So you thought nothing of it when you woke up to flowers and breakfast. Alastor greeted you with a soft kiss as you rubbed the sleepiness out of your eyes. “Why good morning my dear! I do hope you had pleasant dreams” he beamed, setting the breakfast tray on your lap. You blinked in surprise and smiled “Oh Al you didn’t have to. I could have cooked breakfast” you said, happily opening your mouth as he fed you some fluffy pancakes.

Alastor hummed “Nonsense! You should be pampered my dear and as your HUSBAND it is my job to make sure you don’t work yourself to the bone”

You hadn’t thought anything of it.

Alastor was full of surprises and such a gentleman.

So you went about your week.

But you knew when something was bothering your husband.

”baby…what’s this?” You asked Alastor confused as you walked around your new studio. Your little nook that you dedicated to painting,writing, and other little hobbies was now a full room with a view of a newly placed garden.

Alastor just smiled “I thought you could use a bit more place. Isn’t this better? Now you can enjoy the scenery and not be crammed in a stuffy corner”

You still thought nothing of it.

until….a letter came for you in the mail.

Your ex-husband had seen an advertisement of the hotel. He saw that you were managing it and wanted to swing by to see how you were doing.

You were weary to tell Alastor, but when you told him, he just smiled at you ”Then we’ll just have to put on a good show then wont we dear?”

A show indeed.

A knock at the door reached your ears and you opened it to reveal your ex-husband. You gave him a smile and welcomed him inside.

He enveloped you into a hug, twirling you around “Well I be damned! Thought the papers were lyin’ how ya been doll?”

The lights flickered.

You laughed “Well better than the living haha. So what brings you by what have you been up too?” You ushered him to sit on the couch.

He filled you in on how he died and what he had been doing in Hell the last few decades.

You tried to catch your breathe from laughing. “So wait? You’re telling me that the whole thing was a scam? Hahahaha” 

He chuckled “Yea I should have known better. You would have slapped me straight”

You nodded in agreement still giggling. He looked around “sooo a hotel for redeeming souls….how you come up with that?”

You excitedly showed him around as you briefly explained that you were just a simple manager. Helping the Princess of Hell with her dream of helping sinners who wanted to see the pearly gates.

”Actually it was my husband’s idea” You smiled.

The man gawked “Y-Ya got married again?”

You nodded happily and taking a moment “He’s here actually i can introduce-” You bumped into something…someone.

You chirped happily “Ah Alastor! I was just coming to find you”

Alastor looked the sinner over.  He was NOT impressed at all.

THAT is what you were married to before? Oh honey

You definitely leveled up.

”Alastor this is *ex-husband name*” “*ex-husband name* this is Alastor”

Your ex-husband extended his hand “How’d ya do?”

Alastor gave him a sharp smile, taking his hand “Pleasure to meet you, quite a pleasure” he swiftly shook his hand and swiped his hand after on his jacket Alastor baby PLEASE

Your ex-husband swung a arm around your shoulders, grinning “doll face here was telling me about your fine establishment here. I am truly happy she has someone to take care of her. You truly found a gem here sir”

Alastor’s eye twitched.

In a smooth motion, Alastor grabbed your hand, pulling you to his side, looping your arm in his, giving a tight smile “I couldn’t agree more”

He walked you back into the lobby, you ex following.

”MY wife told me a lot about you. I must admit I am shocked at how much you lack” Alastor eyes narrowed on the man.

The man sweatdropped, laughing nervously “Yea I admit I wasn’t the best husband but I did care about her”

You cooed, happy your ex could admit his wrongs but still thought of you in a good light.

Alastor hummed “Surely not the best” he feigned looking at his claws.

You talked for a bit more before your ex stood up to leave.

”Well it was nice to see you but i should really get going doll”

You pouted “No its way too late, why don’t you stay we have plenty of room.”

Alastor was quick to object “now now my dear if the man NEEDS to go we shouldn’t try to stop him. He probably has better things to do” he narrowed his eyes at your ex.

Get out

”He right doll, But ill be sure to stop by again…it was nice seeing you again.”

You gave him a hug which made Alastor growled and waved him off. You closed the door and turned back to your husband with a smile. You were happy that he was on his best behavior. You had feared he would eat the man.

You sighed, wrapping your arms around his waist, giggling

”You know you’re the best man I’ve ever met right Al” you pressed a kiss to his lips.

He hummed, lanky arms wrapped around your waist, kissing you back

 “How about we head upstairs and I show you why I am the best”

[ultravioletrayz]

soccer dad!miguel who despises that shithead #10 for being too rough with his precious baby girl on the field. He can't wait until Gabi's old enough for the all girl's team, but until then, Miguel would have to cope with watching the boys on the opposition get away with completely barreling through his little angel.

soccer dad!miguel who yells over all the soccer moms on the sideline, making sure his booming praise reaches Gabriela and his childishly cruel berating throws off whoever's trying to tackle her as she dribbles the ball up the field.

soccer dad!miguel who loses his absolute shit when Gabi is elbowed to the ground by that #10 kid. His fatherly instincts consume him and without thinking, he storms onto the field cursing at the ref and yelling all sorts of profanities in both Spanish and English. His veins bulge in his biceps and head as he rushes over to console Gabriela, but he swallows his outrage momentarily to crouch down on the grass.

soccer dad!miguel who carries himself with such tenderness when checking to make sure his daughter isn't injured, sighing heavily with relief when he's met with a reassuring smile from the mildly frazzled little girl. That soft demeanour completely transforms into pure protectiveness and anger as he stands up and turns to glare at #10, his tall, tan, muscular body towering over the little boy.

"¿Qué demonios fue eso? Just because you want to win doesn’t mean you have to push and shove. That kind of behaviour is for losers. Weren’t you raised to treat girls with respect?" He scolds, his voice dripping with judgement as his sharp red eyes bore into the poor kid.

soccer dad!miguel who can't help but scoff, unimpressed, when the little boy starts crying, his stature and harsh words obviously scaring the kid as he sniffles and looks back and forth between Gabriela and Miguel apologetically, but he's unable to find his words in the presence of such an intimidating grown up. Miguel’s attention shifts to the young woman rushing onto the field towards #10, a scowl on his face.

“Watch your mouth, asshole. He’s just a kid playing a game, it’s not like he was trying to hurt her!” You yell at the tall, stoic man. You reach out to comfort the little boy, wiping away his tears.

soccer dad!miguel who hasn’t seen such a beautiful girl in his entire life. His ex-wife was okay, but their relationship turned nasty, all remnants of feelings completely soiled by her tendency to lie and cheat. He finds himself checking you out, sharp red eyes lingering on your curves before he feels Gabi hugging his leg and he’s immediately snapped back into his state of disdain and rage.

“Your kid has been roughing my daughter up the whole damn day. Doesn’t seem like a fun game to me.” Miguel counters, patting Gabriela’s head as he glares at you.

“For starters, he’s not my kid. And also, she’s not even hurt! I’ll admit, it wasn’t a clean tackle, but you’re overreacting and you’re making an innocent kid cry.” You scoff, finding this grown man’s behaviour unbelievable as your nephew cowers behind your leg, leaving you and Miguel staring each other down.

soccer dad!miguel who’s aware that he can be a bit overprotective of Gabriela at times, and begrudgingly decides to back down. Especially when you’re looking at him with those beautiful eyes. He’d let this random woman do anything to him as long as she’s looking at him with those eyes.

“Shit… look, I may have come off more aggressive than I intended. I didn’t mean to scare your…?” Miguel begins, shrugging his shoulders as he looks down at Gabi and then back up at you.

“Nephew.”

“Your nephew. He just needs to watch out not to do any damage to the other players, especially the girls.” Miguel says softly, trying to be the bigger person for Gabriela’s sake (and also because he wants to distract himself from how hot it was when you told him off)

soccer dad!miguel who forgets about being nice and friendly when you shrug him off with a frustrated “whatever” and walk off hand-in-hand with your nephew. That’s when he looks around in confusion to see that the game had ended and everyone had left the field. Miguel picks Gabi up and kisses the side of her head, although he's still seething at how that #10 got off unscathed and you didn't even attempt to acknowledge his attempts at an apology for losing his cool. He spends the entire afternoon silently dreading the next time the two teams have a game together, because he'll have to endure the sight of that little shit and his aunty with the fat ass.

NEXT PART

[plussizeficchick]

Artist Boyfriend | Jungkook x Chubby!Reader

Summary; “He’s not my real boyfriend, he’s my artist boyfriend.” (Loosely based on the movie “Dinner in America”, and this edit.)

Warnings: Street Artist!Jungkook, public sex, P in V, panty sniffing, breeding kink, mildly jealous Jungkook, somewhat bad boy!jk? (He runs from the law).

Your heart nearly jumps out of your chest when you hear someone practically fall into your flower shop. You lean your head over the oak counter, looking to see who it was. 

He had dark hair, the curls slick with sweat making them more pronounced. He was breathing heavily, and you’d be lying if you said his labored breaths weren’t causing a heat to build in your lower stomach. 

Get it together (Y/N)!

“Hey, you need some help?” Jungkook’s head jolts in the direction of your voice. You hold up your hands in mock surrender, showing that you mean no harm. 

This was bad. Really bad. Pretty soon the cops would be rounding the corner looking for “him” but there was nowhere for him to hide besides the flower shop that he accidentally stumbled into. “Uh, I-” He was at a loss for words as his eyes ran over your plump figure. 

You were fucking beautiful.

You wore an off the shoulder sundress that hugged your stomach and tits quite nicely, if he says so himself. Your thick thighs were on display, making his mouth water slightly at the thought of possibly feeling those wrapped around his head. 

“Mister?” You furrow your brows, what’s up with this guy? “Hide me.” Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head. “Huh?!” He quickly shushes you, his warm eyes softening, almost pleading with you. “Please, hide me. I’ll explain after.” You don’t know what compels you, but you end up agreeing, hiding him behind your counter, just in time for the cops to rear their heads. 

“‘Scuse us ma’am, have you seen a young man running in this direction? Black ski mask, dark clothes, the like.” You do your best to be convincing, “Yeah! Saw him run down that way, though it looked like he hopped on a bus.” You shrug. The police turn their heads just in time to see a bus leaving the stop. One tosses his hat to the ground, visibly upset, “Damn it! We had that little shit! We were so close!” You’re a bit startled at the display, eyes shifting to the fugitive that you’ve essentially housed. “Calm down, Han before you scare the poor girl.” He gestures towards you. “We’ll get him next time. Thank you for your help, miss.” You bid them farewell, and when you’re sure that they won’t be returning, you lock your door, turning over the Out For Lunch sign.

“Explain.” You say, arms folded over your chest. You may not have meant to, but the action causes your breast to accentuate, the fat practically spilling over the top. Oh to feel the sweet softness, to feel them squeezed in the palm of his hands. To fuck his dick in the middle of the soft mounds of flesh. “Hello!” You wave your hand in front of his face. Maybe this was a bad idea? “What? Oh right- sorry. Well you see I did some graffiti and let’s just say, they didn’t take too kindly to me “defacing public property” or whatever.” He brushes off, hands resting in his black jean pocket.

He was attractive, in a sort of endearingly punk sort of way. He was dressed in majority black, with pops of color from the various wristbands that he had on each wrist. Said wristbands drew attention to his hands, the few veins that ran along them and his surprisingly long fingers. What you wouldn’t give to feel them inside you. Curling up and finding that delicious spot inside you. “Hey, miss?” He snaps his fingers in front of your face, was this what he was like? It was quite… amusing.

You snap out of your reverie, an adorable pout making its way to your lips, ���Don’t call me “miss”, makes me feel old.” You mutter, and Jungkook wants nothing more than to kiss your puckered lips. “Well, sorryyy,” he drags out the word as he looks down to read your nametag, “(Y/N), anyway, apparently my art is “illegal” so I kind of had to cut loose.” He clicks his tongue to emphasize his point. You size him up, “What type of graffiti?” You ask. He balks at you, it’s rare for him to find a girl interested in that kind of thing. “Huh?” “I’m pretty familiar with the scene around here, so what kind of work do you do? Tag? Blockbuster?” You prompt, and Jungkook feels himself falling for you already. 

“I- Freestyle. I freestyle, really.” He says, fumbling over his words. You run your eyes over his figure before you settle on his eyes. Cute. “You’ll have to show me your work sometime.” You tease, moving to tend to your flowers. Jungkook follows close behind, your scent of warm vanilla and lilies drawing him in. “Maybe.” He flirts back. “Say, how do you know so much about this kind of stuff anyway?” He asks, eyeing a bouquet of white roses that’d look very nice in your possession. You jolt your head to look at him, an incredulous look on your face, “What? I don’t look like I know that kind of thing?” You sass. Jungkook nearly chokes on his spit, “W-what? No! No, that’s not w-” He’s cut off by the sound of your melodic laugh, “I’m just kidding, chill out.” You say, pulling a small chuckle from him. “Ha-ha very funny.” He deadpans. You smile brightly up at him, your chubby cheeks lifting at the action. “To answer your question, Mister fugitive-” “You know if you want my name, you can just ask.” He winks. “Anyway, I’ve been in the street art scene for a while. I’m not really good at doing it, but I do have my favorite artists.” You shrug. 

Jungkook’s intrigued, eager to hear more. “Really?” Who’s your favorite?” He asks, and you’d be lying if his excitement wasn’t infectious. You giggle at his eagerness, “Well, there’s not much known about him and no one has seen him yet. According to a lot of people, he never signs his work.” “And I take it that you don’t agree.” He says. You shake your head, “There’s this group that thinks his signature is in his work and I agree. The most common letters seen in his work is JK. With the type of art he does, there’s no way that you don’t want your signature on something like that. But I also understand him not wanting to take away from the art. So why not try to find a way to sign it, while also making it part of the art?” You say, looking up at him to gauge his reaction. Jungkook feels himself nodding before he realizes, “That actually makes a lot of sense. I’ll have to see this guy’s work. I mean, if I’m going to be the top artist in your life.” He smirks. You feel your cheeks heat up, a smile unconsciously making its way to your face. “And what makes you think you’ll be my favorite?” You say, tapping a finger against your chin. Jungkook plucks one of the many white roses he was eyeing, extending it towards you. “I know so.”

— —

It didn’t take long for Jungkook to come by your flower shop regularly, always sure to buy and leave a flower with you each time he came. And it took even less time for you to start dating, the tension between the both of you too palpable to ignore.

It was an accident really. You had decided that you wanted to show your closest friend one of the most recent works of your favorite graffiti artist, practically dragging him to the mural. “Hurry uppp, slowpoke. I wanna show you my boyfriend’s work.” You suddenly feel Jungkook come to an abrupt halt. “Boyfriend? I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.” He says, an adorable pout making its way to his plump, pink lips. 

So cute you just want to kiss it off.

“Not my real boyfriend, silly.” You giggle at the confused, almost puppy dog look he gives you. “He’s not my actual boyfriend, he’s my artist boyfriend. I wouldn’t actually date him.” You scoff playfully, turning around to guide him into the direction you were going.

When you both finally reach your favorite artist’s work and after a while of admiring it, you notice Jungkook shifting uncomfortably next to you. “Are you okay? We don’t have to stay.” You reassure him. You barely have time to register him grabbing your hand and practically dragging you away from the other street artists.

He pulls you into an alley, far from prying ears and eyes and before you get the chance to ask him what happened, he presses his lips firmly against yours. “I’m JK.” He says when he finally pulls away from you. Your eyes widen to the size of saucers, all types of questions on your tongue. “I had to come with you to make sure that it was me that you were talking about and now that I know I can’t keep that part of myself away from you. Especially since I’m your “artist boyfriend”.” He says, nervously gnawing on his lip ring.

How? When did he find the time? Could he kiss you like that again?

You hadn't even realized you asked the last question aloud until you hear the slight chuckle that you’ve come to fall in love with. “Sure, but are you gonna keep my secret for me?” He asks, that sinister smirk making its way to his lips. 

Before you know it you're nodding your head, eager to feel his soft lips against yours as he runs his hands along your soft body. Fuck he never gets tired of feeling you against him. The sharp contrast of hard to soft, the way you practically melt into him.

It’s just too fucking delectable to pass up.

The tension between you both builds, the kiss gradually heating up and becoming more intense as the seconds pass. You wrap your arms around his neck just as he lifts up one of your legs to wrap around him. You both groan at the glorious friction, his clothed cock grinding against your puffy pussy making slick pool in your already sticky panties. “Please,” You mewl against his lips, the chill of his lip ring feeling tantalizing against your lips. “Please what, pretty? You gotta tell me what you want.” He breathes against your lips, the smell of his mint gum and cologne pulling you in. You whine, threats of a tantrum rearing it’s head. “Kookie, please don’t tease.” Jungkook chuckles, before slightly pulling away from you.

You reach out for him, chubby arms holding onto him for dear life, “Kook, please. Fuck me. Touch me. I need something.” You groan against him as you practically dry hump him. Jungkook decides to take pity on you and all but rips the flimsy thong you’re wearing off of you. You barely had time to register before he was shoving the piece of cloth against his nose, your scent washing over his senses. 

He quickly pockets the piece of fabric. You’re on borrowed time, it’s only a matter of time before another couple comes along for their own salacious activities and as adventurous as Jungkook is, you’re his to look at. 

He just manages to tug down his zipper and pull his semi hard cock out, before he uses your slick to coat his cock, running his dick along your wet cunt. “Fuck me, Jungkook. Fill me up. Wanna be full.” You moan into his ear. The sound of your breathy voice in his ear does something to Jungkook and without warning, he slams himself inside you to the hilt. You groan at the intrusion, never truly having got used to his size as yet. “Fuck! Yes, baby. That’s it. Give me that pussy.” Jungkook groans into your neck. He’s sucking hickies and leaving small, wet kisses along your throat and the exposed skin on your chest. You moan at the feeling, reaching up to bring his lips to yours. 

He reaches one hand up to palm at one of your tits, squeezing and molding the flesh to fit his large hand. You whimper when you feel him squeeze your nipple under your dress, causing your pussy to squeeze around him involuntarily. You both moan into each other's mouths, your pussy clenching and unclenching around the thickness of his cock each time he punches the soft, gummy spot inside you. “Cum for me.” He grunts, cock throbbing as it aches to empty itself in your womb. “Soak my fucking dick, baby. Get me nice and wet, pretty. Cause I’m gonna fill you up. Stuff you to the fucking brim.” You cry out as your orgasm washes over you, your pussy squelching as you milk his orgasm for everything it’s worth. “Cum in me. Fill me up, baby. Wanna be so full it leaks out.” You moan into his mouth, eyes locked together. It doesn’t take long, a few more thrusts and he’s spilling into you, the warmth of his seed settling deep inside your stomach.

You both take a few seconds for your highs to come down and before long, you start to giggle. “Were you jealous, Kookie?” Jungkook pulls away slightly to pout at you, lips all pretty and kiss-swollen.

“Was not.”

— —

Taglist: @xogabbiexo @kinq-sleazee @dabilovesme @blkchxrryblyss @tenyaiidasslut @cherries-c0la @bookwormsenpai @bl--ankhaeji @thicksimpx @namjoonswifeyy @nasty-quillz @musicisme333 @unsatisfiedanddisappointed @celi-xxmoon @c0pkiller

[shiorilizzy]

[Yan!Wriothesley x Reader]

Unrealistic Promised

Pairing: Yandere!Wriothesley x Female Reader

Warning: Yandere theme, inappropriate words, baby trap, overstimulation, mind-break (I guess?)

Summary: You asked to leave if he found out another girl and Wriotheselt decided to put some "sense" into your cute little brain.

After many days of running, being chased and dragged back by certain someone, you decided to give up. You bragged it up one night when Wriothesley hugged you tight as if he was afraid that you would run in his sleep. 

“Wriothesley… I want to talk…”

“Hm? Yeah go ahead, darling.” His husky voice whispered beside your ear.

“I won’t run away anymore.”

“Huh?” Wriothesley was wide awake. Was this your new plan of escape? By lowering his guard?

“Really, I really mean it. I won’t run anymore. You treat me well here anyway, but can you promise me something please?”

His arms were trembling slightly. You said the truth? Did you really decide to live beside him? Wriothesley gave you a soft smile and stroked your cheek.

“Yes darling, anything… Tell me.”

Even if you want to go out, he can do it occasionally. As long as he goes with you. He was ready to give you the whole world.

Your voice was a little bit stutter:

“Can… Can you… um… let me go with some money… when… when you get bored of me and find someone else? Please?”

“What?” He stunned. You thought he was upset because you asked for money.

“Ah… No money! I don’t need them! I-I will find a job again soon!”

Somehow he looked more annoyed and furious. But knowing you, your little cute brain must come up with some silly and unreasonable thought. So he patiently wrapped his arms around your waist, tighter.

“May I ask for reason, dear? I’m all ears.”

 “Well, I read your case last time, and I know that you have been Duke for quite a long time. So, I came up with a conclusion…”

“Uh huh?”

“That you’re an old man now.

“Uh huhhhh…….”

“Meanwhile, you are obsessed with someone like me. This means you have taste in young girls.”

“What the…” 

“But I will grow old sooner or later and become an old lady. You will get bored of me eventually and find another young, naive girl.”

“...”

“So what I asked you is: When you found out another, can you let me go please? I don’t want to live here all alone while you having your time with your new obsession. You wouldn’t want me to be around here at that time too. It’s a win-win agreement right?”

At the end of your presentation, Wriothesley’s face turned dark while his whole body trembled in fury. This is the most offensive and ridiculous accusation that he has ever heard.

He had mixed feelings right now. You really know how to push his buttons. 

Part of him was happy that you finally have feelings for him, do not want to share him. Although you may not recognize yourself now.

Part of him was excited at how you always amazed him.

Part of him was disappointed because after everything he showed you that he loves you, wanted to protect you and gave the whole world, you only thought it was some “ taste obsession”.

Part of him was furious. You dared to think that he would leave you with someone else? To accuse him that he only loves you because of your appearance and age? You dared to think of leaving him!

And excuse me WHO’S OLD???? 

Trying his best to stop trembling, Wriothesley turned on the lamp. He flipped his body, his shadow was over you. You swore you could hear him growl, like a beast before its delicious prey, preparing to eat the poor thing alive.

“Yes I can promise that as many as you want. You can leave when that day comes…”

And then your wrists were cuffed with the bed. You realized you made a big mistake when he ripped your fine expensive pajama and underwear.

“But for your information, you are not going anywhere, forever.”

He literally carved his dick into you that night. Your body was covered with bites and hickeys.

Did you think that was all?

Oh no. You were in a big misunderstood.

Not until then that you realize Wriothesley was a spiteful bastard.

Your torture continued for weeks. He would push you on the bed and make you scream his name loudly. He made you orgasm every time. He didn’t overstimulate you. He always stopped when you were on the verge of “too much” and gave you a break. But right after your body recovered, he would give you the pleasure again. Sometimes you need 2 days, sometimes you just need 5 hours, but for some fucking reason, he knew exactly when was the time to bend you. He made it feel like a session of lovers every single time, stroking you gently and whispering love words.

“I love you so much, you know that?”

“You’re my only lovely Kitten”

“Yeah… clench it tight… Good job… You’re so good…”

“Come one just once more… You can do it my love…”

“My darling… You belong to me… forever… You’re mine… mine…”

But he still held a big grudge with your words. Sometimes he will use toys and leave them for hours. You can still hear his sassy voice in your head while moaning and sobbing and begging:

“Oh dear… I’m an old man now… I don’t have much energy and strength… But don’t worry my love, these toys will help me so you won’t feel lonely. Can’t leave my young girl unsatisfied just because I’m old now huh? I will be back after I finish my work okay? And by the way because of my age so the work process may not be as fast as it used to be. But you won’t mind that right?”

Sometimes he growled and fucked you deep like a wolf in heat, your legs were on his shoulders.

“Gotta fuck a baby into you… No… babies… We will have a lot of them… If you leave… what will happen to them… huh?”

Slowly, your body was completely drained from those sexes. You cannot even walk and talk properly: your limbs trembled, your throat hoarse, your cunt was swollen and hurt. Felt like Wriothesley pulled soul from you bit by bit. He overstimulated you but did not overstimulate you at the same time. Your brain was hazy and a mess but you knew one thing: you would die if he continued

That day, when Wriothesley was about to begin his torture, you grabbed his arm and begged.

“P-Please… Wrio… not today… I’m-I’m sorry… please stop… I might die at this rate… please… I-I-I need a break… I will die if you continue… please…” You cling to him tight, afraid that he would ignore your plead and kill you with pleasure today.

But he kept his sassy voice.

“Oh darling… don’t be modest… I’m aware that I’m an old man and have little stamina. A young girl like you can take more than this.”

“NO!” You shouted, felt like losing sanity “N-No… No… You’re not old… I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I-I-I was wrong… You’re the most handsome and the strongest man I’ve ever seen… P-Please… I knew my mistake… Please I can’t take it anymore…” You cried.

Wriothesley seemed satisfied with your reaction. He hummed as he hugged you like a fragile thing.

“How about the promise? The leaving?”

You shook your head violently.

“No! No I won’t! I-I love you! I won’t leave no matter what! Because Wrio only loves me!”

He kissed you on your head.

“That’s my good girl… I love you so much… I will take care of you forever… my lovely only darling.”

Finally, Wriothesley can love you in “normal” way.

Little did you know that he only stopped because Sigewinne said you have someone in your belly now.

[rogueddie]

Eddie slams his pile of books down on the counter, grinning at how hard Steve startles.

"Jesus, fuck," Steve holds a hand to his chest, glaring. "Man, come on, I'm too young to die of a heart attack."

"Are you sure about that?" Eddie reaches over, to tug at his hair- Steve bats his hand away before he can get near. "What are you now, seventy?"

"I'll have you know that the silver only adds to my charm."

"Sure, keep telling yourself that." He pats the pile of books. "I need to check all of these out."

"You know the limit."

"Please? Pretty please? I'll never insult you for going grey early ever again! Promise!"

"You've made that promise before," Steve grumbles, but starts to check the books out anyway. "What's all of this for anyway? New campaign or something?"

"Nah. Robin mentioned something about the cold war and nuclear shit. Got me curious."

Steve pointedly looks at the books, snorting. "Curious."

"What, you've never wanted to learn some new thing or something?"

"Not this much."

"What about all those sports you played?"

"That was more to do with my parents than me actually wanting to do it."

Eddies eyes narrow because... yeah. Outside of his old King Steve days, Eddie doesn't think Steve has ever wanted something. Not even for his birthday, or Christmas.

All he asks is for them to come to his and Robins flat. All he seems to want is confirmation that they're ok and alive.

"You always say you want kids though, right?"

"I mean, kind of. Though, I'm starting to think the brats we babysat might be more than enough for me."

"Chocolate?"

"Oh no..."

"What?"

"You're planning something, aren't you?"

"No! No, no, no... but there has to be something, right?"

"Something?"

"That you really want."

"There's nothing I need."

"That's not what I'm asking."

"That's all the answer you're getting." Steve shoves the pile of books towards him. "Get lost, I'm supposed to be working."

"Ugh, fine, you're no fun."

But he can't stop thinking about it. He ends up returning the pile of books, despite the fact that he barely read one page. When he tries to use it to question Steve, he dodges the question again.

He very quickly gives up, deciding to pester Robin until she tells him. That takes three weeks of constant, daily efforts. And, in the end, the answer is obvious.

Steve just wants to spend more time with people he cares about.

It's not easy to gather anyone in the party, given that there's no holiday or significant occasion- he manages it, though. All the kids, now young adults, organize transportation. Nancy and Jonathan, over the phone, help Eddie and Robin plan out where everyone will sleep with their small apartments.

The effort, and pain of organizing it all, is worth it for the look on Steves face when he comes home to find them all waiting for him.

When Dustin almost knocks him over with how harm he hugs him, for a second, Eddie is worried that he's going to start crying. But he holds it together, greets them all with so much enthusiasm...

"I forgot that he used to be like this," Robin comments, late into the night. They're sat a little away from the group, watching them argue over their games. "The kids mean a lot to him."

"He means a lot to them."

"I know. I think he forgets though, so... thank you."

Steve doesn't corner him until they've got the kids asleep- half of them going with Nancy, Jonathan and Argyle to Eddies appartment, the rest of them fighting over the little space in Steve and Robins.

"You could've got me chocolate," Steve says, nudging him.

"This is what you really wanted though, isn't it? That was the whole point, big boy."

"Right. Sorry, it... I wanted to say thank you. I know this must have taken a lot to organize and-"

"Steve. You don't need to thank me. Besides, I could never have done this on my own."

"Still... thank you." Steve is quiet for a moment, looking out to the busy city street. "What do you want?"

"This."

"No, what do you really want?"

"Yeah, this. Everyones together, having so much fun. We're gonna do a one-shot when you go to work tomorrow. And, uh... you're happy. I don't need anything more than that."

"Right," Steve clears his throat. He shuffles a little closer, so their sides are almost flush together, tentatively reaching out to hold Eddies hand. "You don't need anything else. What about what you want?"

"You know what I want."

"I want you to say it."

Steve leans over, bumping their shoulders together when he hesitates. He smiles, reassuring, and gives Eddies hand a squeeze.

"What do you want, Eddie?"

"You. I- I want you."

It's terrifying to admit, a horrifying leap... but the smile Steve gives him, so soft and happy, is more than worth it.

"As you wish."

[toothfa-1-ry]

BETWEEN OTHER SPIDER(S) -tasm! Spiderman

The other Peter was nothing like the one you knew back at home, but that didn't mean that you disliked him

Set in spiderman no way home

PAIRING: tasm!spider man x spider spiderwoman reader

A/N: Super rushed idk I didn't know how to end it :<

do I really have to do this? Whatever, let's just get it over with

My name is y/n l/n, and I'm from another, another, another dimension

I was also bitten by a radioactive spider and for the past 7 years, I've been spiderwoman

The rest is pretty simple actually, you guys know the jist

I went to school, got a pretty mad degree and modelled for an art class, where I met one of my bestfriend who introduced me to my other bestfriend.

I saved a ton of people, but I also couldn't save the alot of others

I saved one of my best friend, harry, but I couldn't save my other best friend's girlfriend and uh- now we don't talk anymore..

Then suddenly, one day.. this weird thing happens- this golden yellowish circle thingy pops up out of nowhere in front of me and suddenly I'm not at my apartment anymore, I'm in front of apparently 2 highschoolers and 2 other spiders.

"and now I'm infront of another highschooler who also turns out to be another spider" there's a unusual simplicity to your voice as you end your sentence with a slight sigh

The teenage boy in front of you was obviously not okay. He went through some stuff and even though you had no idea what they were at the moment, you knew what it felt like to feel like that

"i- I'm going to kill him" his voice is shaky "I swear I'm gonna kill him..aunt may- he killed au t may"

The boy's eyes are bloodshot red and there's scars all over his face. It was an all too familiar scene, like looking at the mirror, like looking back at your memories

"Peter.." you softly say "your name is Peter right?"

The boy doesn't respond but you could notice the slight reaction to his name, you could also sense the reaction from the two other spiders behind you

You were surrounded by Peter Parker wherever you went, he never really ever left you alone.

"well, there's 2 other peters behind me, and there's 3 other spiders in front of you. Externally we can be as different as we want to, but your scars and your burdens-"

in any other case you might have broken into laughter, you hated dealing with serious talks like this

"and your heartache, Peter, we all share it with you. You're not alone"

The other Peter's take turns speaking to the teenage Peter in front of you.

You can't help but feel like the pain- their pain is all too familiar to yours. Different nonethless but eerily familiar, like de ja vu

You hear familiar names, Uncle Ben, Mary Jane and your heart drops when you hear her name, Gwen Stacy

Your eyes are trained on the 2nd spider. The one not as old as the other but also not as young as the kid. He looks like your age.

He's nothing like your Peter and yet you find it hard to tear your eyes away from him, he talks about Gwen like the way the peter in your universe did and guilt eats you up like a spider eating it's prey,

Even in an alternate universe spiderman (or spiderwoman in your case) comes in the way of Gwen Stacy and Peter Parker

"what about you?" The teenage Peter looks up at you and questions you, about apprehensive of you

"hey kid- didn't I already tell you my entire life story already?" There's a slight teasing time in your voice but it's not reciprocated by the youngest spider

awkward

You bite your lip, you hated this. But you knew he needed to hear this too.

"I had a Peter Parker too, back in my world" unlike the other spiders who are now sitting closely to teen Peter, you choose to sit at the edge of the building away from their eyes

"and he was my best friend. Before I met Harry or Mary Jane I had Peter" you could feel the state of the oldest spider among you, you wished you could give him a hug

"he was my next door neighbour, my friendly neighborhood boy, he was the most special person I met" there's a smile in your voice "later I met Harry and Harry met Peter and we became inseparable"

"then Peter met... someone special too. And her name" you paused, taking a shallow breath before you continued "was Gwen Stacy"

Now you could feel the other spider man's eyes boring holes into you. The air suddenly feels all to different. It's a little hard to breath

"Gwen was amazing and beautiful and so- so special, I could see why Peter liked her. Everyone did, I couldn't help but like her too"

"one day... There was an accident where Gwen was unfortunately at the wrong place, wrong time and even though I saved as many people as I could.. I couldn't save her"

You feel a hand on your shoulder and you knew it was the older spider, it has callouses and scars, it was heavy and full of burden but it felt safe and comforting. It felt awfully like home

"Peter..he used to adore spiderwomen but after that day he changed...he changed for the worse. He applied for an internship at Osborne laboratory, a lab owned by Harry's dad and got in."

Your story was a little longer than the other spiders but yours was the one which connected all four of yours together.

"what happened to Peter?" It's not the teen Peter or the old Peter who asked you this but the Peter who you felt the most familiar to. He encouraged you to continue so you did

"he uhm got the internship. I was against it but Harry thought that maybe it could get Peter back to himself again- but instead Peter he..he"

"you don't have to continue you know" his voice is soft and warm but you think that maybe his eyes are more comforting "it's okay we can continue this later"

You simply nodd

There's an odd silence now at the rooftop of a building. You turn your head to face the teen Peter who was still processing everything thats going on

"kid, if there's one thing you should know is that we are not ordinary normal people. We have powers and with-" the old Peter begins to say but the Peter next to you cuts him off

"great power comes-"

You whisper the end "great responsibility"

You all shared a look, you can't help but think that it's strange but it's also oddly comforting.

-

One thing you should know about all the spiders from all the universes no matter what are usually if not horrible at dealing with their feelings

And the four of you were not so different but you guys had each other so it was going to be okay

The white cold light filled the lab along with the pairs of white coats shuffling here and there, thinking up of a game plan and also modifying the gadgets

You can't help but stare at the youngest Peter and mj or rather Michelle, you don't realise that the other Peters are doing the same, one of them unintentionally like you and the other staring wistfully

The oldest Peter contemplates saying something to you and the 2nd Peter. The both of you had a similar look as your eyes lingered at the young couple. Something like regret or maybe guilt. Perhaps love or maybe self hatred. At the end he decides to remain silent, it's better to let the both of you figure it out by yourselves

You're the first to snap out of the trance, almost immediately noticing the other Peter the one most closest to your age staring intently into what you also were a few minutes ago

You break the silence, a slight cough

"you gotta love young love huh?"

His eyes twinkle a mischievous look and give you a lopsided smile

"too bad spiderwoman ruined it for me" you shrug

"spiderwoman? it was Spiderman for me" he shakes his head adding an additional flair "talk about a total buzzkill"

You both break into grins as if though the both of you were long lost friends sharing an old joke together

"so uh -" Peter, not the one ned is trying to teach internet acronyms to or the one too busy holding his girlfriend's hand, but Peter with the brown eyes and hazel eyes, the one sitting right across from you.

"I hope I'm not being too forward" you could recognise that awkward tone from anywhere "but I just wanted to say that I'm sorry. About what happened to him" Peter's voice was genuine and his face warm "I'm sure it was difficult, especially because you had to go through that alone"

"oh" you're taken aback by his words

"not trying to be insensitive or anything but I" he gives you a lop sided smile, the kind of smile that seemed to be a mixture of concern and guilt "I know how difficult it must have been"

"it was difficult." You admit "Peter was my bestfriend, he was-" you cannot find yourself able to end that sentence and the Peter infront of you is quick to catch on to this fact

"uh so what did Peter look like? In your universe? I mean if that's alright to ask ofcourse I don't want to-"

he had caught on to your hesitation, he guesses that your relationship with the Peter in your universe was complicated so he simply changed the topic

"Peter" you laugh a little "uhm- i was kind of taken back at first, your almost nothing like my peter"

You don't miss the way his eyebrows raises when you say my Peter, but you also don't miss the way he tilts his head when he was surprised

"sorry I mean the Peter in my universe.. you know just your typical friendly neighbour" you say "blue eyes, blonde hair"

"wait- I have blue eyes and blonde hair in some other universe?"

You raise your eyebrows and gave him a look of slight disbelief "did you seriously just say you ?"

"hey" the Peter in front of you says as if to back himself up, holding up his hands "in some other universe I'm a no offense a middle aged man and in some other a hormonal teenager. It's great to know that I had blue eyes and blonde hair at a certain point"

You laugh. You actually laugh. It's a long time since you've talked about your Peter to anyone and for a long time every conversation about him seemed like a mourning but this one, this one felt as if though you were celebrating the person he was

"I'd rock blonde hair and blue eyes I assure you" The Peter infront of you breaks into a smile when he sees you laugh.

For someone he had never met or rather a person he was never supposed to meet he felt a sense of closeness towards you. A tingle

"so do you have a y/n in your universe? Please tell me I have pink hair and green eyes" you say

"not yet, unfortunately" he grimaces "but I have you here right now"

It's different. Everything was different with this Peter. You just couldn't pinpoint how

"yea I guess"

Peter doesn't say anything but gives you a wink before he goes tinkering his web shooting gadget

"huh..." You couldn't help but mumble to yourself "it's a weird though don't you think? This whole multiverse Spiderman/woman thing"

Peter hums in agreement "well, string theory is a bitch"

"Werner Heisenberg? Total asshole"

"tell me about it, he's worst"

There's a shared cheeky glance, an unspoken understanding, a connection if you would dare to admit

The Peter infront of you was nothing like your peter, he didn't have blue eyes or blonde hair, instead he had brown eyes and even darker eyes, he wasn't overlty confident or proud but rather seemed awkward and a little shy

The Peter infront of you was nothing like the Peter you knew in your universe but you didn't seem to mind

After all, the both of you had eachother right now, and that all the seemed to matter

[warping-realities]

A Night in the Devil's Den - Part I

“I still think we should hit up somewhere else, Jamie. There are tons of bars that would look the other way and let us grab a few drinks.” One of the three young men passing through New York during college break said as they made their way to the old building housing the Devil’s Den, apparently the most hyped club in the city, which had a strict policy of keeping anyone under 21 out.

“Stop being such a fag, Fred! We’re gonna get in, trust me, man of little faith.” Jamie, the group leader with light brown hair, same color as Mark, shot back. Fred, on the other hand, was blond, and more sensitive, which didn’t mean he couldn’t hold his own when it came to arguing; on the contrary, the debate skills of the former debate team captain were legendary.

“Chill, Fred. The worst that can happen is the bouncer looks at the IDs that Jamie’s buddy hooked us up with and realizes we don’t have the right age and kicks us out. But I doubt that’ll happen; in a few months, we’ll all be 21.” Mark commented, always the peacemaker.

“Another reason to wait until we’re actually of age. I don’t want any trouble, guys.” Fred tried to argue again.

“I can’t believe you came all the way here to chicken out, man. If you wanna bail, I’m cool, but think about all the work I put into getting these IDs. And I didn’t even charge you guys!” Jamie grumbled.

“That’s just because your buddy did it for free, asshole. Who the hell is he, anyway?” Mark jumped in before things got heated between the two.

“Some dude I met at the hostel; he’s the one who told me about this place. Apparently, this is the spot for anyone looking for a good time.”

“You mean you trusted someone you barely know? Doesn’t that seem kinda sketchy to you?” Fred asked, outraged, totally shooting down Mark’s efforts.

“I’m sick of your attitude, man! If you’re so unhappy, why don’t you just head back to the hostel?”

“Hey, hey, chill out, you two! We’re here to have a good time! Fred, let’s check out the place, and if we don’t like it or they kick us out, we’ll head back to the hostel, and I promise I’ll be your wingman with those hot Italian chicks who showed up yesterday, alright? And Jamie, you dumbass, he’s not entirely wrong; it was pretty stupid to trust a stranger, but it’s done now, so let’s just try to have fun, please?” Mark chimed in again.

“Fine, but you know that your parents would kill us if anything goes south, Mark.” Warne Fred, whose parents had already passed away, and, in Jamie’s opinion, was the last one who should be worried instead of acting like a little pussy. Not that he’d say that, at least not now that his buddy finally decided to man up.

“Finally acting like a man, Fred, and not like a little bitch!”

“Hey, man, that’s enough!”

“Chill out, Mark; you’re starting to sound like your dad. Sorry, Fredster, I just want an unforgettable night with my best buds.” Jamie said, hugging Fred on one side to encourage him while Mark did the same on the other.

As they approached the ridiculously long entrance line, Jamie commented.

“Since we’re talking about those hot Italian girls, it’s funny that if we were in most other countries, we wouldn’t even need to convince Fred here; we’d all be of age to drink until we drop without a care in the world.”

“I don’t think your dad would be too happy about hauling his kid from the gutter.” Mark remarked.

“He’s not as strict as your dad, man, but yeah… maybe it’s best not to push it. Damn, look at this line! No way I’m waiting all this crap! Oh, wait, I just remembered something; follow me!” Jamie said, signaling for his friends to follow him to the front of the line, where a huge black guy, looking like a muscle mountain, was running the door, checking IDs and occasionally greeting a buddy with a half-smile in his otherwise stern face. He saw the guys approaching and crossed his arms, giving them a menacing smirking look.

“Hey, fellas, what do you want here?”

“Good evening, sir! Jerome told us to go straight to the bouncer at the main door and, said… said that he hopes you have a… a hell of a night.” Jamie said, sounding unsure for the first time.

“Jerome, huh? IDs?”

“Here you go, sir.” Mark replied, handing over the fake IDs, which the guy scrutinized for a few seconds.

“Any problem, sir?”

“Nope, on the contrary, looks like you guys got VIP passes. Jerome must’ve liked you a lot.” He said while fiddling with a walkie-talkie before speaking again. “Jerome’s group is on the way.” He radioed someone before handing the IDs back to the guys and cracking a smile. “Boys, looks like we’re all in for a hell of a night!”

As they stepped into the spacious lobby, the guys were hit with the sounds of music and excited screams, along with flashing lights. And the most impressive thing of all was a guy with olive skin, well-groomed beard and black hair, and a distinctive aquiline nose that hinted at some mediterranean ir middle eastern heritage. But what really stood out about the guy was his stunning build, partially covered by a sharp suit and shiny black pants, with his muscular torso on display for anyone who wanted to see, staring at them with disconcerting eyes and a mischievous grin that made the three feel like they were really inside the Devil’s Den.

“Dude, they really know how to set a mood.” Jamie remarked, eyeing the imposing figure. “Alright, first drinks, then we hit the dance floor for the hot chicks!”

“Actually, I think I’m gonna hit the bathroom; my bladder’s about to explode!” Fred said.

“Then it’s a wonder you didn’t piss yourself from fear before we even got in.”

“Go fuck yourself, Jamie!” he shot back, irritated, as he blended into the crowd on the dance floor.

“You really can’t pass up a chance to be an idiot, can you?” Mark commented, following his other friend through the crowd. “Let me talk to him; you do something useful and grab the drinks. You know a few shots will loosen him up.”

“It’s not my fault he needs booze to stop being a little bitch.” Jamie yelled to be heard over the noise, turning heads with expressions of disbelief toward him, but he was too hyped about the night’s promises to notice, heading for the nearest bar, closely followed by the sinister figure from the entrance. It wasn’t until he reached the bar that he noticed the company.

“Hello, James.” The man said over the cacophony, though his voice didn’t need to rise for Jamie to hear him.

“How do you know my name?” Jamie shouted back.

“Jerome gave me a heads-up about your arrival; I’m Mr. Shay the manager of this place. And I know you shouldn’t be here tonight, kid.”

“Damn… then why didn’t you stop us at the door?”

“Because I understand the need for a young man to rebel. Especially when his dad is such a major buzzkill.” The man said with bright eyes.

“I… he just wants what’s best for me… a decent job for a real man and… and sometimes it’s a drag.” Jamie replied in a whisper, not realizing the man knew way more about him than he should.

“Oh, I get it, kid, and just when you finally have a chance to chill, your friends leave you hanging.”

“Pussies!” The kid grumbled, not seeing the man’s eyes flash dangerously.

“You seem to have a problem with gay people. What’s that about?”

“I don’t have a problem with gays; I have issues with little faggots, those sissy boys who take it up the ass like they’re chicks. My dad raised me to be a real man.”

“But it’s tough living under the weight of other people’s expectations, under the rigid standards taught by someone, isn’t it? Sometimes all you wanna do is chill out, let loose, and be happy, right? And have your friends be able to enjoy that with you.”

“Yeah…”

“Well, it’s settled! Poncho, a shot of tequila for my buddy here.” The man said as the spell seemed to break while he glided through the crowd with ease, almost floating, and for an instant if one looked closely one would catch a glimpse of his true form.

Still a bit dazed, Jamie turned to the bar and bumped into a Latino guy in his late thirties, with a chiseled, muscular chest completely exposed except for a bow tie around his neck, sipping a drink while the shot of tequila the other guy ordered was held in his hand.

“On the house.” The guy said with a smile. Without thinking twice, Jamie downed the shot.

“Nice one, hermano.” The man commented, grinning.

“Gracias, tio.” Jamie replied, smiling as he left the bar with a dreamy look.

There was definitely something extra in that tequila, Jamie’s rational side thought, a side that seemed to shrink more every minute. He wandered aimlessly through the crowd, seeing colors and smelling scents he’d never experienced before, while that rational side tried in vain to shout inside his head, drowned out by an overwhelming numbness.

“Mierda, que guapo…” he murmured in Spanish, watching a muscular guy dancing shirtless. Without even stopping to think how out of character that was for him.

Like a moth drawn to a flame, with an unspeakable desire taking hold of him, making him vibrate and tremble inside he made his way toward the guy, and just like that, in the blink of an eye, Javier, the latino 21 years old man, approached the older man.

“Hey, papi, want some company?” He asked with a vacant look and dreamy voice that the other guy didn’t seem to notice, and in a few seconds, they were both dancing to the rhythm of the music.

“So, kid, where you from?”

“Right here, raised in El Barrio.” Javier answered.

“But where did your family come from?”

“My grandparents came with my dad and my uncles from Colombia in the early 90s. Maybe you know my uncle. He works as a bartender here; they call him Poncho, even though he’s not Mexican, but he says he doesn’t care.”

“Oh, so that’s why a kid like you is in here.” The man commented.

“I’ll show you who’s the kid.” Javier replied, kissing the man, who returned the kiss with passion.

Neither of them seemed to notice that the kid’s shirt seemed to evaporate in the air or the inches he gained in height or the facial hair sprouting on his face. After a long moment of pleasure, the two pulled away.

“So, papi, am I man enough for you?” Javi asked with a grin, while the other guy stared at him, breathless.

“Now I gotta bounce; my shift’s about to start!” Javi said, walking with a smile toward the bar. His muscles growing and expanding into an athletic, well-proportioned physique, with just the bow tie of his uniform to cover up.

“Hey, you didn’t even tell me your name, boy!”

“If you want to find me, just head to the bar. And don’t call me boy; do I look like a kid to you?” He replied, flexing his muscles. Only a man could call him that, and that certainly wasn’t this one.

When he got to the bar, his uncle greeted him with a smile but also with a warning.

“If your dad finds out about this…”

“What my dad doesn’t know won’t hurt him, tio. Plus, next year I’ll be graduating, and the boss is gonna put me to work in accounting, although I think I’ll still take a few shifts with you just for fun.”

“Javi, you really don’t get it, do you? If not your dad, then because of that musclehead you’re seeing.”

“It’s his fault for not showing up yet. And right when the main attraction’s about to start.” He said, looking at the club’s stage lighting up. “Though to him no attraction compares to my ass.” He concluded with a grin.

[megamindsecretlair]

You Understand Me Now

Pairing: Franklin Saint x Black!Bratty!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Smut, PWP, cursing, PIV, fingering (female receiving), size kink, some dirty talk, all consensual. Daddy kink. Toxic smut. Mention of jail, drug use, and drinking. Angst if you squint. Established relationship.

Summary: While Franklin feels mounting pressure from setting up new business, he has to track you down and set you right.

Word Count: 3,673k

A/N: Hello brainrot, my old friend. Who needs sleep when there's smut to be had? I had TOO much fun writing this. It was written in a daze so all mistakes are mine. I just need some act right from Franklin!!! Enjoy if you do too! Thank you for so much love on my Franklin fics! I love yall. Please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers!

Taglist: @planetblaque @notapradagurl7 @miyuhpapayuh @henneseyhoe @mybonafidefeelings @blackerthings

You were shaking your ass like there was no tomorrow. The music was thumping through the floors like a live beast. You felt it in your chest. Alcohol was coursing through your system. It gave everything a hazy, bright glow. It was too loud to think and yet all roads lead to Franklin Saint.

You had been cooped up in an empty house by yourself. What use was all the shit Franklin brought in if he wasn’t there to enjoy it with you? He would leave early in the morning and not return until long after you’d gone to sleep. Your initial reaction was that he was cheating, but you knew that wasn’t the case.

You’d see Franklin dead before he cheated on you. And he’d see hell freeze over before the thought crossed his mind. You knew he loved you. He wasn’t the greatest at showing it and dammit, it hurt. 

Did that mean that you had to suffer? No. No, it did not. You called up your girl and went to her place to get dressed. The hardest part about dating Franklin was all the secrets. All the lies. They sometimes got twisted in the careful web you weaved. Over time, it became easier to not leave the house at all. 

Franklin was turning you into a hermit and you wanted to hate him for it. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a cell in your body that could hate that man. So you took your anger out on him in other ways. It was an insidious need gnawing in the back of your mind.

Sometimes he’d walk in with that tired grin. Too tired to give you a proper hug and a kiss. Like you weren’t worth the effort it took to check in and ask about your day. You knew that he was in the middle of important business dealings. But lately, you were feeling neglected.

Not today.

At your girl’s house, she told you she missed you and your wild days at wild parties, living it up, gone off of the weed, and having real fun. She reminded you that you were still young and you were one of the lucky ones. You didn’t have a baby to look after. 

“You mu’fuckin’ right,” you said. You nodded your head, the idea taking shape the longer you sat with it. Thirty minutes later, you were both dressed like you didn’t have a man. You wore a very short skirt and off the shoulder top. Your coarse hair was pulled into a high ponytail. Your makeup was flawless.

It was practically gone now. Still you danced. Still you partied like there was no tomorrow. You left your pager at home. You didn’t care what Franklin had to say. So you shook and danced and waved off try-too-hard niggas with grabby hands. 

You clasped your friend’s hand and pulled her away from yet another man in your business. Damn, couldn’t you just go out and dance? Let loose?

“I see you havin’ real fun,” you heard above you.

You gasped and straightened out. You hadn’t seen him. Felt him. Or heard as he approached. One minute, your eyes were closed dancing to Flashlight. The next minute, Franklin was staring down at you with his nose slightly flared.

“How’d you find me?” You asked.

You looked around him and noticed Leon standing by the door looking sullen. “I can get to you any time I want,” he said. 

You folded your arms. The night’s festivities were catching up with you. Sweat pasted your shirt to your body. Little frizzes of hair escaped your ponytail. Your feet ached from spending hours on the makeshift dance floor. You were out of breath, staring at Franklin and wondering where his state of mind was at.

“I’m here trying to handle bidness and this is how you act?” 

You sucked your teeth and rolled your eyes. “The hell was I supposed to do?” You had to yell to be heard over the funk music. “Sit at home and wait for yo Black ass to come around?” 

Franklin rolled his neck. He was stressed out. You took a step forward. You longed to wrap your arms around him to hug and kiss him. To make it all better. But fuck that. Your anger was a familiar coat you threw on. 

“Let’s go,” he said. He dismissed your comments altogether. He turned and you faced the wide expanse of his broad back. His black polo shirt highlighted the slope of his shoulders, his sexy walk. The length of his legs were their own turn on. 

You didn’t follow him. He moved behind a dancing couple. He half turned and inclined his head. You turned around yourself. Two can play that game. You headed towards the back of the party. 

You were gaining attention. Those who weren’t smoking weed, were looking at you over the tops of cups. Others were smokin’ that stupid ass crack pipe. Franklin grabbed your hand and stopped you in your tracks. 

“Don’t fuckin’ embarass me. Let’s go,” he said, his whispered baritone fanning across your ear. You took a deep breath to steady yourself. Your body always reacted to him. Right now, your clit was throbbing thinking of what he was planning on doing to you. He hadn’t touched you in a week and it was driving you insane. 

“You can’t tell me what to do, Franklin,” you said.

Franklin stopped looking around and fixed you with a glare so severe, it’d hurt less if he slapped you. “The fuck you just say to me?” 

“You can’t tell me what to fuckin’ do, Franklin.” You emphasized his name, drawing out the syllables. 

“Man, get yo ass in the car,” he said. 

“Fuck you, nigga!” The rage that you cloaked yourself in was comforting in its heat. Spurned on by the alcohol, you poked at his chest. “Fuck you! Fuck you!” You slapped at his chest. 

“I’m only going to say this one more time, get in the fuckin’ car,” he said. He leaned in close to you, that calm demeanor slipping back behind his eyes. He kissed you on the cheek. A quick, dispassionate kiss that only served to piss you off even more. 

You opened your mouth to say something, but Franklin gripped your upper arm. He pushed you forward, around dancing people giving you the stink eye, past Leon with a little smirk on his face, and outside. The brutal LA night was cold and unforgiving against your damp skin. 

“Get off me, nigga!” You yanked your arm out of his grip. He talked about you embarrassing him. But he was the one who dragged you out of the party like some baby. 

Leon snickered. “Damn, you let her talk to you like that?” 

Franklin took a deep breath, looking towards the sky. “For one fuckin’ day, can any of ya’ll act right? I’m sick of this shit.” 

“I know you ain’t talkin’, Leon,” you said. Alcohol emboldened you. You felt invincible. Like you could hang onto a star and fly through the universe. You were ready with a scathing remark. 

Franklin stood in front of you, blocking your view of Leon who had squared up, ready to pop off. Franklin’s nose flared, his mouth stuck in a grimace. “Car, now,” he said.

Oh shit. Maybe you went a little too far. “Sure thing, Franklin,” you said with a sweet smile. 

You heard Franklin blow out a deep breath. “You got a way to get home?” You heard Franklin ask Leon as you walked away. You folded your arms and trudged the short distance to the curb. 

You reached the car, sliding in and putting your head against the headrest. You glared at Franklin as he said goodbye to Leon. Leon was smirking. You bet they were laughing it up at your expense. At your feelings. 

It paled in comparison to the lust you felt for Franklin. He walked towards the car. He was so different after he got out of jail. Tougher. Harder. There were moments where you would catch the Franklin you first fell in love with. The optimistic boy you would follow anywhere. 

Franklin was a man after jail. He picked up an edginess. A shorter temper. You couldn’t tell him what to do and that made him sexier to you. He was never a weak man. But now, he was strength personified. 

He climbed into the car in silence. He turned the car on and peeled out of the projects. “Not gon’ say shit?” You asked. 

Franklin didn’t look at you. He kept his eyes on the road, obeying all of the traffic lights. There was no reason to give LAPD an excuse to pull you over. Not that they always needed one. Driving while Black was practically an invitation to the cops to fuck with you. 

Franklin turned into his garage. You watched and listened as he closed the garage door behind you. He turned the car off and hopped out of the car. He came around to your side and opened the door. 

You hated the silent treatment. It was like he had ice water in his veins. You got out of the car and stood in the open door. Arms folded. Staring across a chasm at Franklin that you couldn’t cross. Couldn’t access. You weren’t welcome.

“Sick of this shit,” you muttered. 

“Get yo ass in the room and I’ll deal with you in a minute,” he said. 

“No, fuck you,” you said. 

That vindictive streak in you wanted to push him. To push him past the point of breaking him. 

“I don’t need this fuckin’ shit! I got enough shit to deal with than hearin’ my girl shakin’ her ass for anyone to see!” His voice rose from a deadly calm to outright yelling. 

“I was just dancin’,” you said with a shrug. 

“Yo ass don’t listen too good, huh?” Franklin grinned cruelly and laughed. He grabbed you by the arm and tugged you inside the house. The house was lit up like a Christmas tree, as if he’d searched every room for you.

You didn’t have a chance to appreciate the sentiment as he tugged you through the house, towards your room. He pushed you onto the bed and watched you flop. 

You pushed up onto your elbows but Franklin grabbed your hips and yanked your body down the bed to the edge. Your ass hung off of it. He used his leg to push yours further apart. 

“Franklin?” You asked. Your voice wobbled but not with fear. You were so turned on, you didn’t trust your voice. 

A sharp slap rung throughout the room. You cried out and clutched at the bed spread. Heat blossomed on your nearly exposed ass. One sharp jerk later, and it was over your hips, pushed up.  

“This what you wanted right? Why yo ass was actin’ up?” He asked. 

He rubbed the area that he slapped and you hissed. You were at an awkward angle. Half hanging off of the bed like you were, your heels were the only thing sort of keeping you upright. You stood on your tiptoes to brace yourself. Franklin standing in between your legs threw your balance off slightly. 

Franklin ran his hands down the crack of your ass, down towards your pussy. He moved your skimpy panties aside and pressed his thumb into your entrance. You cooed and collapsed onto the bed. 

“This pussy right there? Mine,” he said. He slapped your ass with his free hand and you gasped. The dichotomy of him slipping his fingers inside of you and the heat of the slap was too much already. 

“Baby…”

“Naw, don’t baby me. It was Franklin earlier, wasn’t it?” He asked. He removed his thumb and quickly replaced it with his index finger. He grunted and pushed a second finger in. 

“Oh, baby,” you moaned. He widened his fingers, preparing you for him. 

“What happened to all that shit you was talkin’?” He asked. He leaned over over, driving his fingers in deeper. You moaned and clutched the bedspread past the point of your fingers cramping. 

“I’m sorry,” you said. You moved your ass in a circle, in tune with how Franklin pumped his fingers in and out of you. As long as he kept doing that, you’d give him any answer he was looking for. 

“I don’t believe you,” he whispered against your ear. He leaned back and added a third finger. 

“Oh, fuck!” You moaned. Your body jerked and twitched as if you ate a live wire. Your orgasm ripped through you. Each wave hit you harder and faster, dragging you under its sweet release. 

Franklin withdrew his fingers and you heard him licking each one. You huffed. This man was going to be the death of you. 

Franklin massaged your ass, bringing attention back to the lingering pain. “I just missed you, baby,” you said. 

“Mhmm,” he said. He took a few deep breaths. His hands grabbed a handful of your ass. He made quick work of his pants, shedding it in nearly one fell swoop. He rubbed his thick, hardening dick along your slick slit. 

You bit your lip and moaned. “Pleasepleaseplease,” you said and wiggled your ass against him. 

He grabbed your left wrist and pulled it behind your back. It wasn’t comfortable, but it wasn’t uncomfortable either. You twisted your wrist but Franklin didn’t give you much room. He learned forward, his polo shirt rustling against your shirt. 

He brought his lips down to your ear. He licked the shell of it. Placed kisses behind your ear, into that sensitive spot. You shivered. Your desperate pussy clenched around nothing. He wrapped your hair around his fingers and pulled your head to the side for better access. 

You ached. You were so empty, you could cry. Literally, tears gathered behind your closed eyelids. You needed to be filled up by him. Consumed by him. You wanted to end where he began and begin where he ended. 

“The next time you need some dick, you come fuckin’ find me,” he said. He pushed into you slowly, stopping every so often so that you could get acclimated to him. 

“Oh, yes, Daddy,” you whined as he fulfilled your silent request. “Pleaseplease,” you muttered over and over. 

“Do you know my heart stopped comin’ here, callin’ for you like a mu’fuckin’ idiot? I called your pager. Shit was beepin’ by our bed. Anythin’ could’ve happened to you!” 

He seemed to forget his plan because he started to increase his thrusts. Whatever he gave, you took. You bounced back on him, matching his rhythm. He fucked you into the bed, pushing down on your arm behind your back. 

You were shoved ever more onto your tiptoes. Your right hand searched for purchase on the bed. Anything to brace you against his savage thrusts. It felt like he was pouring all of his frustration out into you. You gripped the bed spread and chewed on a piece of it.

There was a low, delicious burn inching up your legs. You shook violently, crying out as he hit that spot that only he could reach. Only he could touch. Only him. 

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” you choked out. He pushed the very air from your lungs. Each thrust knocked a little more loose. You panted against him. 

“Oh fuck, right there,” you whined. Your ass clapped against his hips and the wet slap surprised another orgasm out of you. You stuttered over his name as you came, your pussy contracting and flooding his dick. 

“Look at you, can’t even hold on to that fucked up attitude,” he said. He licked your neck and nibbled at a sensitive bit. You shuddered and tried to curl in on yourself. 

“Naw,” he breathed. 

He slipped out of you and you cried in earnest. Tears slid down your cheeks. You groaned. Words weren’t working right for you. 

Franklin manhandled you. He flipped you onto your back and pulled you by your arms. You sat up and flopped against his body. He gripped your chin and made you look at him. 

“Talk a big game, no follow through, huh?” He asked. Bastard. But you got what you wanted. 

“I’ll do better, Daddy,” you said. You gave him puppy dog eyes.

Franklin grinned and pecked your lips. “I know you will,” he whispered. 

He tugged your shirt off, revealing your bra. Franklin sucked your nipple through the lacy material and you bucked off of the bed. “Shit!” 

The sensation was both there and wasn’t there. You registered a barrier between his mouth and your nipple but you didn’t really feel it. 

Franklin thrusted into you, hard. You gasped, your mouth hanging open. He climbed onto the bed, getting into a better position. He tore off his polo shirt and tossed it onto the floor.

He laid over you, crushing your body to the bed. He used one hand to spread you completely open for him. The other hand, grabbed your right hand and held it above you. Your fingers intertwined with his. He ground his hips into you, his dick disappearing inside of you.

His strokes were deep, brutal, and punishing. He wasn’t done being pissed at you. The thought should scare you. It should drive you right out of his bed. But no one else fucked you so completely. Made you feel so wanted and adored and like he needed to fuck you like a person needed air. 

Every stroke hit that deep spot inside of you. Your knees closed around his hips. Your left hand scratched his back. 

“That attitude shit stops,” he said as he made out with your titties. He pulled your cups down until they were under your breasts, pushing them up and into his eager mouth.

“Yes, Daddy,” you moaned. 

You felt the muscles in his back working as he pushed in and out of you. His dick stretched you right to the edge of pain. That fine line was delicate and he walked it well. Your hand traveled the length of his back, feeling all of the additional muscles and the dip of his back. The top of his ass that you couldn’t reach. 

You closed your eyes as he rolled a nipple around his mouth. 

“The last thing I need to fuckin’ worry about is you,” he said.

“Yes, Daddy. I’m sorry,” your breath was failing you. Hell, you didn’t even know what he was saying at this point. You’d agree to just about anything at the moment. As long as he kept his strokes nice and deep like that. 

You felt him in your chest. He pushed up and you couldn’t barely breathe. He was stuffing you full of him, feeding you his dick. 

“You think this shit is cute and it ain’t! How the fuck it look that I can’t control my girl?”

You contracted against him. Another orgasm was building. His voice was so deep and raspy. And when he yelled, it was like unlocking a switch inside of you. You began to twitch again. Tears streamed down your face.

“I’m sorry! I hate being here without you,” you managed to croak out.

Fuck, you were so damn close. “Please Daddy, I’m so sorry. I’ll do better,” you said. 

Franklin lifted his head from your titty. He stared into your eyes. 

“Don’t you fuckin’ know how much I love you? Why do I have to prove it to you?” He asked, softly. So at odds with his pounding dick. 

“You don’t!” You yelled. Your orgasm was just out of reach. So, so, sososososo close. 

“Then why you like makin’ me mad?” He asked, his voice raised. Your jaw went slack as the orgasm finally tore through you like a tidal wave. You flopped and twitched, unable to hear or see anything as stars danced behind your eyelids. 

Your convulsing pussy triggered Franklin’s orgasm. He pushed into you further, his cum splashing inside of you. You felt his dick twitch and pulse. 

“Fuuuuuck,” he groaned. “You feel what you do to me?” He asked. He placed his head into the crook of your neck and panted.

“Yes, oh fuck yes,” you murmured. 

“You do that to me,” he said. He kissed your jaw, your cheek. Your lips lazily found his and you kissed him with the last remaining breath in you. You felt light headed. You wanted to curl up like a cat at his feet. He rubbed your arms and kissed you as you floated back to your body. 

As he softened, he pulled out of you. His thick cum eased out of you. Franklin rolled over onto his back with a contented sigh. He placed one hand behind his head. You rolled and tucked your body into his. He rubbed your back. You spread your right arm across his chest. A possessiveness taking over you. 

He kissed your temple and looked at you. “Don’t you ever call me by my first name again,” he said. He turned to stare at the ceiling. His fingers never gave up their glide and and down your back. 

You giggled sleepily. “Keep fuckin’ me like that and I won’t have to,” you said. 

Franklin grabbed your right hand and brought it to his lips. “I gotta fuck you to keep you in line, is that it?” He asked.

“Somethin’ like that,” you said with a small giggle. 

You were dragged kicking and screaming to sleep. You wanted to stay up and talk to him. Anything to keep hearing that sexy voice. Anything to keep him here with you longer. You were beyond worried that the moment you opened your eyes, he’d be gone again. Like a puff of smoke you couldn’t hold on to. He’d just slip through your fingers. 

You were so blessedly fucked out, that your head emptied. You fell asleep to the thump of his heart. And you prayed. Prayed that he’d be there when you woke up.

Psst. There's more Franklin Fics! The Secret Franklin Saint Files

[arjudy224]

Death of a family

The Intern Collection:

Prequel: Death of a family

The Intern: Day one

The Intern: The Laughing Fish

The Intern: Busy Work

The Intern: Outreach Gala

The Intern: Visiting an old friend

The Intern: Chemical Valley

The Intern: Billionaire Boys Club

Once the warehouse went up in flames, the world went silent. A blinding light stuns my senses. Before I can react, Nightwing shields me from the shock wave as we both go tumbling down. For a couple seconds, the only sound I can hear is the pounding of his heart. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Frozen, I see my horror reflected in his pale blue eyes. We didn't make it in time.

The ash slowly descends while the two vigilantes rummage through the debris. Staying out of the way, I do my best to be productive by prepping the med pack. Prepping for the worst, but hoping for the best. A slight glimmer catches my eye from a hundred yards.

Narrowing my eyes, I stumble through the wreckage. Drawing near, I dust the fallen ash away from a metallic pendant. More specifically a metallic bird... no. oh God no. It's a Robin. Dropping the med pack in shock, I manage to choke out "Dick..."

Nightwing rushes to my side within moments.

"What is it?" He questions, "Are you hurt?"

His eyes dart across my face looking for any signs of injury. Following my gaze, he mutters.

"Oh..."

When the body is revealed, I feel nothing. I should be screaming. Crying. Cursing at a god I don't believe in... but I don't say anything. Time slows down. Once Batman takes vitals, I work on breathes while Nightwing does chest compressions. 30 compressions. 2 breathes. Every other rotation, Bruce and Dick switch out. CPR is brutal. It's hard to ignore the cracking of the sternum or the fluid spilling into the one way mask. Attaching the AED, I pray something changes. Pausing Bruce's CPR, we clear the area to deliver the first shock. Then the second. Sandwiched between rounds of CPR, the AED gives us nothing to go off of.

After a while, it becomes hopeless. Most hearts restart after the first two shocks. Bruce's determined gaze grows frantic. Using his entire body, Batman's chest compressions progressively become deeper. Too deep. I avoid looking at the face of the limp carcass. If I look at his face, then it means this entire afternoon actually happened.

"Bruce, STOP! This isn't doing anything. " Dick argues tearing the man away from his fallen son, "He's... gone."

My chest tightens at Nightwing's voice crack. This cannot be real.

Pulling himself together, the Bat's eyes meet mine. For the first time since I've met him, the calculated facade has fallen to the wayside. Pure anguish stares back at me. From the slumping of his shoulders to the tight line of his lips, it's clear as day. Straightening himself, the Bat swiftly moved the body back to the plane.

"I'll prepare Alfred for the service."

Service... Is that it? That soon?

Dick excuses himself claiming to need a bite to eat. With a lingering hug, he tells me that he'll whip me something up too. Haphazardly, I decline the offer. Dick's right of course. I haven't eaten in over a day, but... Every ounce of hunger left my body the moment, I smelled burnt flesh.

For the first time all day, I look at him.

Covered in soot, the burns are the first images that are seared in my subconscious. Black bruises lace around every external patch of skin. Underneath all the brutality, my jaw clenches. Did he always look this young? For a kid who was starting to develop a jawline, I forgot how round his cheeks were. How long ago was his birthday again? A few months? Fifteen. His thick dark lashes stay completely still while I brush the hair out of his face.

No... No.. This isn't right. This is not how our story goes... Prom. Graduation. We were supposed to be dumb kids in love. Not some high school cautionary tale.

Suddenly, it all sinks in. I can't breathe.

No more study dates at Wayne Tower.

No more reading together

No more lazy Sunday morning smiles.

No more late-night Robin visits.

Sliding down the wall, a single tear drops down my face. The pressure resting on my chest prevents any more tears. Everything in me wants to wail. Throw a fit. Kill the bastard who did this. Instead, I stare wordlessly at the smooth metallic wall furnishing.

I am too young to feel this old.

Tag list: @jjsmeowthie

[oatmilk-vampire]

Birthday Blues

Read part 2 here.

Steve hates his birthday.

He knows he may not be the only one who gets "birthday blues" but he feels like it's a lot deeper than just the blues.

When he got closer with Eddie and learned of his own shitty upbringing, he thought it'd be a bonding moment for them. Eddie has to hate his birthday too, right?

Wrong.

Despite Eddie’s mom dying when he was only six, and Eddie’s dad being a deadbeat, leaving Eddie on his own before Uncle Wayne took him in, Eddie loved his birthday.

The Munsons may not have been rich but Wayne always did his best to provide Eddie with new(er) clothes, or dice, or guitar picks. A new album or poster for his bedroom walls. Maybe even his favorite food at the diner--something they didn't do often as they usually survived on box cereal and spaghetti-Os.

And when Al Munson finally rolled into town conveniently around his only child's birthday, well he'd give the sort of shitty, low-commitment gift only a father could give.

And Eddie looked forward to it all the same. One or two shitty presents in six years is better than none when it comes to his father. He'd take what he could get.

So, when Eddie's birthday comes and goes and Steve gets invited to his and Wayne's get together with the kids, and then a later party with the members of Corroded Coffin--well of course Steve goes. And he showers Eddie with love and meaningful but still kinda pricey presents, because he can. And he wants to. Despite the merciless teasing he endures. The look on Eddie's face makes Steve feel like he's the one that got the greatest gift of all.

This, of course, all falls apart when Eddie points out Steve's own birthday must be coming up, and he's right. And because he has no tact he announces in front of everyone who realizes in horror that they've gone years of knowing Steve and celebrating his birthday exactly zero times.

Steve's equally horrified now because now everyone is tripping over their feet desperately trying to make it up to him with cakes and ice cream and movies and handmade cards and weird action figures Eddie probably would have liked better.

It's only after Steve gracelessly accepts all of their gift-giving, and fends off at least three panic attacks and two migraines that he has to put on his bitch voice and scream that the only thing he wants for his birthday is to be left alone.

And like usual, the kids do not listen.

Until Eddie steps in. He makes them go, Robin too, even if she is pissed about it. But they go when Eddie assures them that Steve probably just feels a little overwhelmed right now and needs some space.

He's close to leaving too, knowing he may have made a mistake and should probably get out of his hair... But then Steve starts crying and Eddie has to stay.

It's not loud or ugly, just these little, tiny pitiful things like Steve is trying his damnest to not cry. Like the act of tears falling would kill him.

Eddie cautiously slides next to his shaking form on the couch, careful not to jostle him too much.

He bites his lip as he experiments with placing a hand on Steve's shoulder.

Steve tenses under his touch until Eddie speaks,

"Stevie, I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. None of us did."

His parents were hardly around. Never gave him practical toys he wanted, just whatever they thought a boy should have to shape him into a "proper young man", if they thought he needed toys at all. No parties. Ever. He briefly wanted to throw ragers when he realized he was old enough and his parents wouldn't be home, they never were, but those made him feel even worse so he got used to spending the day like any other. All alone in a big, empty house. Not a home.

Eddie continues to rub soothing circles into Steve's back as he lets it all out, explaining his woes as best he can through a sore throat and runny nose. Eventually he pulls Steve into a proper hug-turned-cuddle until his breathing steadies and he isn't shaking anymore.

"I'm sorry." Eddie holds his breath, hoping it doesn’t trigger another panic attack.

"No--don’t be. Thank you."

"For what? Making you cry?"

"For caring enough to bring it up, even if it was a lot. But mostly for being here, after. Just..."

Steve didn't have to finish his sentence. Eddie knew what he was trying to say.

Thank you for staying. Thank you for holding me. Thank you for loving me.

"Always, Stevie. I'll always be here for you."

Steve squeezes him, and Eddie squeezes back once, twice.

He doesn't say it, but Steve understands.

Happy Birthday... I love you.

[rosedpetal]

It's Nice to Have a Friend

Summary: How you and Wade became best friends.

Pairing: Wade Wilson x slightly Depressed!Reader

Word count: 1.5k

Masterlist

It smells like sweat, tobacco and cheap alcohol inside the bar. You immediately regret leaving your cozy apartment, wearing those faux leather pants, a black crop top that makes you feel like you're gonna explode out of it and putting makeup on just to end up in a smelly place that has a bathroom that'll probably give you an UTI if you use it.

But it's your best friend's pleading eyes that soften you up, and you know you have been unavailable lately. Always cancelling on her last minute and isolating in your place after your work hours, wallowing in your misery and wondering if that's all life's gonna be now that you're an adult: paying bills and working in a vicious cycle.

"You're not depressed, you're suffering from late capitalism," Maya begins, as she moves flawlessly on her high heels, her tiny little dress fitting perfectly on her. "You just need a drink or ten to forget for a little while."

"Becoming an alcoholic sounds like a nice solution." You roll your eyes, dodging a broken bottle in your sneakers, kicking another aside as you move between all that trash. Maya was such a princess, why she was in love with someone who worked in such a nasty place was very confusing to you.

"You're so funny." Maya said, kissing your cheek, her manicured thumb grazing on the spot her lipstick left a stain, smudging it a little. "He's very important to me, Y/N. And your approval means a lot."

Your heart made that little flip it always does whenever she says something like this. Maybe it's the guilt gnawing at your mind.

"If he makes you happy, you don't really need my approval, Maya." You mumble, following her inside.

The interior is even worse than outside. The bar is full: of big, chunky men. Some are playing pool, others playing poker, others are drinking alone, sulking.

You keep your face straight, wondering which one of those are Maya's new boyfriend. You sigh in relief when she runs to the one who's sweeping the floor, an Indian skinny guy who - thanks to the gods above - doesn't look old enough to be her father this time.

She lets out a girlish squeal as she hugs him, giving him a tight hug. You approach them, alleviated that he seems normal.

"Y/N, this is Dopinder. Dopinder, this is my bestest of the best friends in the whole world." Maya grins, and you force a smile to Dopinder.

"Hello, Miss Y/N, I'm a mercenary apprentice." The young man shakes your hand and your eyes widen in disbelief.

Of fucking course. Jesus Christ, Maya.

"Now, now, my little brown friend. What did I say about introducing yourself like this? Tsk." A voice coming right behind makes you stiff.

You turn to face whoever is invading your personal space, a mean scowl on your face, when your eyes widen just a little bit. The guy behind you stands at least 6'2". It's not his impressive height that has your attention, though.

It's his skin. Scarred all over, as if he had some rare skin disease. You wondered if it was an accident, and how he was before it happened. His grin spreads a little.

"Disgusted, doll face?" He tilts his head to the side, as if challenging you to admit it.

The bitter undertone in his voice doesn't escape you. You are mortified by your own reaction. Maya senses your unease and jumps in:

"Wade, excuse my friend, she never leaves home."

Your cheeks and neck turn pink. Wade thinks it's the cutest thing in the world.

Before you can bite Maya's head off, she hops away with Dopinder, leaving you alone with this guy you don't know. You bite the inside of your cheek, contemplating going back home, but it'll be just another thing for Maya to whine about later.

"Seems like you've been ditched." He smirks, sensing the way you're shying away.

"So it seems." You say bitterly.

"Can I entertain you with my company?" He raises his hairless eyebrow.

You're tempted to just dismiss this guy, but you're already out of the safety of your home. Might as well get drunk now.

Wade talks at an impressive speed and you almost can't catch up to him. He cracks so many jokes that by the end of your second beer, your face is flushed with laughter.

"So... You don't look like someone who usually goes out to have fun, doll face." He pries.

"No, I don't." You say quietly, a sigh escaping your lips.

"Why, then? Why put the effort in dolling yourself up when we both know you'd rather be watching Gilmore Girls in the comfort of your home?"

"I haven't been a good friend lately." You admit, almost meekly, biting the inside of your cheek - another nasty habit that came with the anxiety.

"What's eating you up alive, doll face?"

His question almost makes you choke. How could you tell him that what has been eating you alive is yourself? Your own thoughts? Your low self esteem and your self depreciation? How do you tell him you don't know what the fuck happened between your high school years and college, why your mind is playing tricks on you?

"Please." Your eyes are blinking with unshed tears.

His gaze softens, and he leans in closer, the soft fabric of his hoodie brushing against your forearm.

"Maya is a sweetheart, but we both know she's not that good of a friend. Not if the only way she can gets you to leave your house is by guilt tripping you into it." He speaks in a hushed tone. "Specially if she drops you the moment she sees her boyfriend."

You look up, your gaze finding his.

"You have such gentle eyes." You blurt out.

He wheezes. Wheezes.

"Wow, let's cut your alcohol, okay? Goddamnit, doll face, I'm the ugliest thing to ever exist since Wes Craven created Freddy Krueger." He mumbles the last part, grabbing a water bottle and twisting the cap for you. "Here. Drink it up. Yes, girl!"

"Are you sure this won't upset my stomach?" You raise your eyebrow, eating your second chimichanga.

Wade rolls his eyes, chewing on his.

You two are sitting on the curb, eating deep fried burritos and drinking soda. Not how you pictured how your night would turn out to be, but much better than what you expected.

"Listen, doll face, did I ever let you down?"

"I literally met you two hours ago."

"Exactly."

"So... Why entertain me?" You can't help but ask.

Wade pauses. He thought you were the cutest thing in the world when he saw you, all wide eyed and brooding, a little scowl on your gorgeous face.

"You seemed like you needed saving." He decides on telling a half-truth instead.

"Is this your thing? Saving damsels in distress?"

He contemplates it. There was nothing heroic about how he acted, or his job, or his personality, for all that mattered. Did he have an ulterior motive to invite you to drink with him? Maybe. But who didn't have ulterior motives?

"No, doll face. Being a hero is not how I operate."

"Are you a mercenary, too?"

His grin widens. Of course.

"It's a long story, doll face. Maybe I'll tell you someday."

"Hmm, is there gonna be a next time, then?"

"It depends. Do you wanna hang out with my ugly ass mug in the foreseeable future?"

This time, you roll your eyes.

Wade Wilson got under your skin in a way that no one else did.

It started with the way he cracked jokes at everything.

Then, his unexpected late night visits, where he brought some take out and you'd both eat it together sitting by your balcony.

Then, he came to you wounded, with more tears and bullet holes you were comfortable with – now that you knew about his healing factor and what triggered it, you thought you'd get used to seeing his guts by now.

Spoiler alert: you didn't.

It wasn't until you cried and sobbed on his chest, wondering if you were a failure, externalizing all your insecurities and doubts and fears, that you realized you actually made a friend.

Wade trotting in your place with his ridiculous crocs, a popcorn bowl and a beer on his hand should've give it away.

"I love you." You blurted out, so unexpectedly that he snapped his head to you, a shocked look on his face.

"You... What?"

"You're like my best friend now. And I love you. Deal with it." You repeat, this time more confidently, crossing your arms over your chest, as if daring him to state otherwise.

"Wow, you're in love with me!" Wade squeals like a school girl.

"Wade, that's not-"

"I mean, why wouldn't you? When I'm all that." He points to himself with a chuckle. "So, when did it happen? Did you get lost in my gentle eyes?" He blinks in an affected way.

You sighed. "I take it back. I hate you."

"Suuuure."

"Just press play on the fucking movie." You mumble, plopping next to him on the couch.

[factual-fantasy]

TUNA I'VE FAILED YOU OH YOU DELICIOUS PIECE OF MY HEART HOW'VE YOU BEEN MY DEAREST PUREST LITTLE GUY??!??

Since the last post you made about him I've been wanting to ScReAM my love for him but I never had the time and the energy at the same time! D: until now >:]

BECAUSE WOULD YOU LOOK AT THIS?!

THE SMILE! THE FONDNESS! THE "I KNOW IM LOVED" THAT THIS DRAWING SCREAMS IS MAKING ME SO INSANE I LOVE SO MUCH HERE

Now, continuing to be an acceptable member of the Tuna Lover society.

TUNA YOU'RE THE ABSOLUTE BEST THING EVER.

Hold yourself because I have 0 self control when it comes to ramble about my specialist little guy and I'm afraid I wrote quite a lot.

Tuna looks like he is so tired. Look at him! His whole body language is screaming "I'm so tired but i dont really think sleep cluld help me". What did this rascal do that he's so tired? I wonder, but for some reason he looks more like being emotionally tired than anything. Poor bean! Did he had a rough week? A bad day? Is he feeling down? Maybe he's just tired for no specific reason, it happens sometimes. I wish I could cup him in my hands and pat his head softly as I rock him to sleep because he's so my baby :'[ <3

Ellie oh you heart of gold woman how lucky is the crew you're a part of it! Like seriously. She looked at this sad teen and said: not under my watch young boy. And went to cook his fauvorite rolls??!? She's so grannie coded I need her in my daily life you have no clue (oh no I got nostalgyc-). She's trying to hype him up and she's not just silently sliding the rolls under his hands. She's actually talking with him and something about physical contact. WAIT. IS THAT IT? IS TUNA SO VERY TOUCH STARVED THAT THIS IS HIS REACTION? OOOUGH MY HEART CANT HANDLE IT. I'll follow this train of thought later. (🚂)

Like. She's so gentle, so careful, so... She's really making sure she does all she can to lift up the spirits of that young man!

Because the way he's looking at her... the fondness.. the care and gratefulness????? Oh dear momma fish I'm dying. He's looking at her so sweetly! So gratefull! He's screaming "thanks for being a part of my life" without his mouth. He's screaming "I am so gratefull you love me" with his only one eye and I'm so down for it. I need more of them. They warm my fish heart so much... She's the grannie he never asked for bur always needed! Y'know? He's capable of looking at someone like that after all he's gone through and if that doesn't make me want to cry I don't know what does. Because that's just... OUGH I CANT WITH THEM HE HAS SUCH A TRAGYC BACKSTORY AND FEELS LIKE NO ONE LIKES HIM AND THEN THIS OLD LADY IS LIKE: YEAH, ILL BAKE HIM SONETHING SO HE CHEERS UP??!??! I NEED THEM HUGGING I NEED THEM BONDING I NEED THEM BEING A MEANACE TOGERHER BECAUSE OHMYGOD WHAT I WOULDNT GIVE TO SEE THIS TWO BEING LIKE THIS EVERYDAY.

A tiny part of me kinda wants to see one of them hurted really bad and the other protecting, but the other part of me is terrified of the mental implications it would have. Especially if it's ellie the one hurted. Oh no, no, let's end that thought there for my own sake 🫠

BECAUSE ELLIE IS JUST... SHE JUST BAKES HIM HIS FAUVORITR, I REPEAT, FAVOURITE THINGS WITHOUT HIM ASKING FOR IT.

Ok, returning with that train of thought (🚂)... I probably have alredy rambled about this before, but... When was the last time someone hold this guy gently? I mean, not even hold, but just... touch him without meaning harm? Or more precisely, when was the last time someone touched him with care? With fondness? With the intention to lift his spirit? To make him smile, at least a little tiny eety beety winesy bit?

She puts hers hand on his shoulder and he jumps, freezing with his mouth full of delicious food. It's her. Of course it's her, they were chatting alone in the kitchen, although it felt more a monologue as Ellie cooked than an actual conversation. He was too in his mind to really listen. The sudden contact was what made him blink with his only eye, staring at the caring old eyes of the lady at his right. It was nice. Warm and rough hands squeezed his arm softly, fully aware that she had startled him. She looked at him with a fond smile and placed the fresh rolls in front of him. "There, you better enjoy them boy!" She may or may not say. Thing is, his eye goes to the hot, delicious food, and then he realizes. The hand is still there. Gentle. Almost can't feel it. It's. Why? It's strange. It should hurt. But it didn't. Of course it made sense, but why? Of course it didn't! It was Ellie! And then the realization hits. All in a matter of seconds. Ellie would never lay a harming hand on him. And he felt... He felt.

"You can't eat literally with your eyes, you do know that, do you?" He forgot he was eating. He smiled. And seeing that smile made her smile too. After all, how couldn't she? That wasn't something she saw everyday! Much less in such a sincere way! He was just... smiling at her. Oh she felt so happy! "I'm glad you like those! If you want more just tell me!" Oh wasn't he in the verge of tears? Happy tears! Him! Oh. The realization hitted like a truck. (Or like a ship? What's the equivalent? Idk, like a punch of Louis if you please.) He was cared for. He was loved. There were hands in this world that weren't meant to harm him. He just smiled, fondness burning in his chest like a wildfire because how this woman can change a man via kindness/food.

What is so crazy is that maybe he's just staring lovingly at the lady that cares for him. Because he feels like he's a rock on the boots of the crew most of the time but he's good at what he does so they bare with him. Maybe he feels they don't want him around but... but this lady does. And isn't he gratefull for it? Isn't he so happy she's around? She touches his only arm in such a gentle way? The other won't feel kindness never again, did it ever felt it? Not punches, not grabs, no, just... placing her hand there. Like he isn't an animal with the rabbies but actually a just really fucked up little guy who is terrified of people because people gave him reasons to and barks and bites but is, at the end, very lonely and afraid because he pushed everyone away. Except for this lady. He tried. He bited and barked until he realized she doesn't care, that she alredy saw the scared guy he was and didn't cared. She didn't cared. She cared so much more than anyone that she didn't cared! She wasn't afraid! She wasn't going away! If anything, she sitted closer as time passed. And suddenly, a pet on the head. A so waited, so dreamed, so strange, so scary! Pat on the head. Gentle. Not like those who grabbed him to calm him down and only made him bark and bite with more energy. No. Gentle. It was new. It was nice. But he was afraid. Afraid. How long until she hits? He thinks. But she never hits. She brings him treats. Suspicious. But... not so... Why? It's just that he isn't used to see someone care. But she cares. And she doesn't goes away. And she doesn't turn her back. If anything, only to take the rolls out of the oven!

He doesn't thinks all that in the moment. He just wants. Oh. That felt nice. But was kinda unexpected. It's later at night that he thinks, if his three neurons decide to work. Mayne this is how his complex being feels but his tint neurons don't know how to think. He just loves and cares about the lovely woman that cares and loves back. I need more of them. They mean everything to me at this point factual I'm descending to madness.

AWROROOGOOGGHHHHGGGGG YOUR LOVE FOR TUNA FUELS MY SOULLL!!!! 😭😭THSNKYIUUUUU!!!😭😭💞💞💞💞