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#let the masses decide? yes
maidenofmadness · 1 year
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1 week till the move!!!
Am so excited to be able to set up a prooer space for photoshoots, maybe start up an onlyfans? Do y'all want horny thirst trap pics?
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kangaracha · 6 months
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what's a really unfortunate discovery in my life in the last two years is that my boss told me i was racing against my beeper counting seconds last year and confiscated it (secret skill unlocked: can count to fifteen seconds in your head with extreme accuracy) and i'm like he cannot be for real with this, how do you Race Time. and then i play guitar against a metronome and You'll Never Fucking Guess What My Fatal Flaw Is
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x-nephophile-x · 2 years
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Yall got that one constant character that just lives in your head rent free?? That one character you can slip into thoughts about so easily, you’re never not fixated on this character? Your constant state of being? I have three and all three know 50 ways to kill a man.
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lina-lovebug · 2 months
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I'd Fight The Devil
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Pairing: Alastor x fem! reader
Background: reader is Lilith and Lucifers oldest, and resembles Lilith more. Lucifer has a hard time bonding with her because of this, and Alastor decides to step in.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
"DAD'S COMING?!"
(Y/N) Morningstar, firstborn daughter of Lilith and Lucifer, was currently having a breakdown over the fact that her father was on his way to the hotel.
She'd have no issue leaving, of course, but Charlie tricked her dear old sister into staying by saying she needed help with the hotel. . .and told her their dad was coming when he was two minutes away.
It's not like she didn't miss him, but things became different once their mother disappeared. Lucifer threw himself into his ideas, and (Y/N) tried maintaining their relationship but he couldn't even stand the look of her.
"I'm sorry! But I thought maybe you guys could talk while he's here?" Charlie suggested with a gulp, twiddling her fingers.
"I'm done trying with dad. If he wants to talk, he can come to me," (Y/N) crossed her arms, firm on her stance.
"I never thought I'd meet someone with worse daddy issues, but here you are, cher," Alastor, with his famous grin, looked down at the Princess of Hell. She huffed, not in the mood for his side comments.
"Alastor, please-"
"He's here!"
"-please fucking hide me!" She ran behind him, despite the mass amount of blonde hair making it obvious.
He chuckled.
Honestly, since meeting the eldest Morningstar, Alastor deemed himself her Protector. Not that the girl wasn't capable or needed him persay, but he cared for her. Being on the aroace spectrum, he wasn't plagued by a selfish desire to fuck her, but it was a sweet concern that slowly turned into a need to be near her.
A need to make her his.
"Hopefully he doesn't-"
"Pumpkin?"
"Fuck," (Y/N) silently cursed under her breath before Alastor stepped aside.
"Hey dad," Lucifer felt a pang in his sinister heart at her tone. She sounded uncomfortable and wouldn't even look at him, but he also remembered that he couldn't look at her at times.
It reminded him of happier times.
Times he didn't want to be reminded of anymore.
"So how've you been? Heard you've got a fancy job now. Probably making loads of money, huh?" He chuckled nervously.
"Dad, it's my company. I made it."
And he couldn't even remember that she did that?
Any dad would remember that his child created her own business.
"Ouch."
"And it's got a fucking duck on the logo. God, dad," She rose her voice, "you can't even remember that?"
"I've been busy, pumpkin-"
"Too busy to call? Too busy to even fucking call?!"
Charlie flinched at the harshness in her voice. She's always been a firecracker but she's never seen her so angry.
"I'm not fighting with you, (Y/N)," Lucifer stepped towards her, "why do you insist on fighting? Especially when I'm here for Charlie."
"Oh, you're here for Charlie?" Her horns started to come up through her skin, rolling back like a rams.
Just like her mom.
"I'm not making this about me. I just wish you'd make the effort instead of it having to be me," She missed who he was.
And during this, Alastor could see the pain on her face. She was furious, and rightfully so.
But he let her fight her own battles.
"I'm sorry that I look like mom. Is that what you want me to say?!"
"Yes!"
He didn't mean it. Of fucking course he didn't mean it, but it slipped out.
"Dad! That's enough!" Charlie ran to her, seeing tears well up in her sisters eyes. "How could you say that?"
"Pumpkin, I-"
"Don't," She sniffled, holding Charlie close, "don't come near me."
But he didn't listen.
He hated being the fact that his little girl was crying because of him.
"I think you've come far enough," Alastor spoke, getting infront of Charlie and (Y/N). He is excellent at saving face, so his pure unadulterated rage was hidden beneath his smile.
She hiccuped behind him, sobbing into Charlie's shoulder.
"Don't make me move you," Lucifer glared.
"And don't make me fucking kill you for hurting what's mine."
His voice turned more static-like than before, his eyes a burning red and his horns outstretched. He was a fucking shield for his Princess, and not even the King of Hell could get through. Lucifer recognized this and humbly backed away, retreating with his tail between his legs.
_ _ ☆ _ _
(Y/N) spent the next hour crying in her room. Over the years, she had started to hate herself for looking like her mom, and Lucifers' confirmation only reaffirmed it.
"Need anything else?" Charlie asked her. Although her sister wasn't searching for redemption, she had her own personal room in the hotel.
"Can you get Alasto-?"
A knock sounded at the door.
"Was he there the whole time?" She sniffled, and a muffled "maybe" came through the door.
Her bed was surrounded by napkins that she quickly placed on her bedside as Charlie allowed Alastor inside.
Alone.
The two of them.
Might as well just throw them condoms and say get to it, is what (Y/N) was thinking. She's known about her crush on The Radio Demon for a few months now, having a fantasy dream here and there, but wasn't much of an active person herself.
"Thank you. I know he tried to fix it, but I couldn't stand to look at him," Her puffy eyes made Alastors eye twitch, still a small spout of anger for her father.
"Of course, my dear," He sat himself next to her on the bed.
"Because your father, although the King of Hell, is a fucking coward", is what he wanted to say but kept those words for himself.
"Did you mean it? That I'm yours?" She asked, her hand inching closer to his.
"I never say anything I don't mean, cher," He grabbed her hand, kissed it, and made the she-demon gasp.
"I thought you hated touch."
He chuckled, "Oh, I do, but not if it's you. Your skin is warm, and it brings me comfort. You bring me comfort."
"You'd have me, even if I want to be glued to your side? Even having petty fights with my dad?"
"Darling, I'd wear your skin if you asked."
"Oh, how romantic," She blushed before both his hands came up to her face, bringing her into a needy kiss. With her, he needed to feel her.
Someday, even all of her.
"And I'd eat demons with you," She whispered against his lips.
"Oh my heart may burst, my dear."
Taglist: @lorkai @droopingdatura @tr1coo @randomuser-89 @abbiedail @evelin1o1 @sseleniaa
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saetoru · 8 months
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ STRAWBERRY FLAVORED — GETO SUGURU.
contents. here is a lil prequel to this btw, basically this is suguru’s shower scene but if he actually had someone to take care of him, reverse comfort, aka my extremely self indulgent drabble of fixing suguru before he turns into a mass murderer <3
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it’s been a while—suguru has been in that shower for long enough that you’re starting to grow concerned. you contemplate for a bit, whether it’s a good idea or not to enter the boys shower, weighing the possibilities of being caught.
satoru’s not here, you reason, nanami and haibara are gone too, and yaga shouldn’t notice either—so, with a heavy sigh, you walk up to the door, opening it slowly. you can see him, standing as the water pours over his body, not even moving a little when you enter.
suguru is not the same—not after everything that’s happened. you can tell, you can see it under his eyes from the lack of sleep, you can see it in his cheekbones as they show a bit more from the lost weight, you can see it in the stiffness of his body when you’re around him. he’s not the same, and no one’s seem to have noticed, but you have. you always have.
you slowly strip from your clothing, walking up to him quietly until your arms circle his waist and your cheek rests against his bare back.
“baby,” you hum, “you’re turning into a prune. look at your skin,” you grab his hand, running a thumb over the tips of his fingers, wrinkly from the water.
he gives you an empty chuckle—you don’t think you’ve heard a real laugh from suguru since that day. “but aren’t i a handsome prune?” he mumbles.
“of course,” you kiss his shoulder, “the handsomest.”
“that’s a relief,” he says playfully—there’s nothing playful about his tone, though. it’s numb, automatic, like he’s trained himself to respond to you the way he always does. but you can feel it. he’s not the same.
“you’ve been in here a while. i got tired of waiting.”
“sorry,” he drops his hand from yours, falling limply to his side, “lost track of time, i guess.”
“suguru,” you say softly, “what’s wrong?”
he’s quiet, probably contemplating his answer. no one else might’ve noticed, but you have. you always do—he knows you always will. finally, he decides to answer, “are you really asking me that?”
“yes,” you say firmly, “i want to hear it. i want you to hear it. stop pushing it down.”
“i’m fine,” he mutters, “just tired.”
“i know,” you say softly, “i know you’re tired. what’s got you so tired?”
gently, your arms twist his body—he doesn’t put up a fight, just spins to face you until his face is digging into your neck on instinct. he can smell your body wash, can inhale the familiar scent of you from here. there are no curses to consume and no people to save at the risk of himself here, just the soft feeling of your skin and the warm press of your lips on his head.
riko would’ve liked you, he thinks. he can’t help it.
for a fleeting moment, when his hand was outstretched to her, he’d wondered if you’d like her too. he’d decided you would—you’re kind, you always have enough love for one more person. you’ll like riko, he’d thought. and then just like that, she’d been on the floor, dark pool of blood under her head.
you never got to meet her, and he never got to introduce you.
“what’s wrong, sugu?” you ask again, voice more delicate this time.
“everything,” he whispers.
he’s tired, so incredibly tired. suguru is exhausted. so for today, he’ll let you pick up the pieces. he doesn’t want to worry about you right now, doesn’t want to think about whether or not the edges will be sharp enough to slice your fingertips. suguru is exhausted—so for once, he lets you worry about him instead.
“i see,” you nod, letting your fingers trail to his head, stroking the wet strands gently as he trembles against your body, “everything is a lot. let’s start with just one, yeah?”
“i hate the taste of curses,” he spits, “it tastes like vomit.”
“that’s no good,” you agree, and then you’re pulling his head out of your neck—he wants to protest, wants to stay right where he is so he doesn’t have to face you, or anything. but you’re insistent, gentle as you are firm, cupping his cheeks as you force him to look at you. “can you still taste it?”
“yeah,” he nods. it’s true, he can’t forget the taste even if he tries. it’s like a phantom pain—but it resides on his tongue, haunting him long after it’s gone, even as he breathes and swallows and talks. “i hate it.”
your lips are on his after that, soft and sweet against his mouth. he can taste the strawberry of your chapstick, the familiar taste of you that he also could never forget. it washes down the vile taste of curses easily, so he leans in for more. and more. and more. he needs more.
“what about that?” you ask, stroking his cheek when you pull away, “how does that taste?”
“good,” he says shakily, “i…i like that.”
“i know you do,” you smile, pecking the corner of his mouth, “i can’t change how curses taste. but if i could, i’d make them strawberry flavored for you.”
he chuckles at that—it’s small, but it’s real. for the first time in a long time. it’s real.
suguru hates how curses taste, and you can’t change that, but you can help make swallowing become easier. he’ll take it—he’ll take anything you give.
“that might make the job easier,” he says, burying his face back into your neck, “they’d taste like you.”
“i’ll kiss you then,” you stroke his hair, pressing a soft kiss to the side of his head. his lips wobble, vision turning blurry. suguru is tired—he doesn’t want to hold it in anymore. “after every curse you swallow, i’ll kiss you. it’ll make it easier.”
“i don’t know if it will,” he admits, “this….what do we do it for? none of it is easy.”
he used to think it was. fighting curses was easy—satoru and him were the strongest. fighting curses was like stepping on ants as they walk on the concrete, crushing them before they can bite anyone. but he starts to wonder if people deserve to be bitten, if the people who kick at ant piles mindlessly for fun deserve to be saved from themselves.
you think for a bit, contemplating his question as the water runs over both of your bodies, slipping into the thin crevices between your skin and his.
“it’s not,” you agree, “it’s not easy. i would’ve loved to meet riko. i know you wanted me to. i’m sorry, suguru.”
somewhere along with the water on your shoulder mixes his tears, and his body shakes against yours. suguru is tired. he’s tired of swallowing curses and tasting bile. he’s tired of pretending the weak are innocent. he’s tired of carrying so much weight on his young, innocent shoulders. they deserve to be free.
“is it worth saving them?” he asks as he sniffles, “if they clap over people like us dying?”
“people like us aren’t always so different,” you point out.
people like us don’t need saving, he wants to argue—but you don’t give him a chance to, turning the water off behind him as you stand there holding him as he leans into you.
“there will always be someone who needs to be saved,” you murmur, “and there will always be something they need to be saved from. it’s not always as simple as curses and exorcisms, though.”
“that doesn’t make any sense,” he frowns, “that’s the whole point of jujutsu. to exorcise curses.”
“and if we exorcised them all? would that make everyone safe?”
“maybe not,” he furrows his eyebrows, “but at least we wouldn’t be dying for them.”
“you never know,” you reach for the towel, slowly pulling away and patting his skin gently as you dry his dripping skin, “maybe you’d die from something worse.”
“what could be worse?” he asks bitterly. he doesn’t understand. but you smile, pressing a kiss to his jaw as you brush his bangs from his face.
“i don’t know,” you shrug, “but i’m sure there’s something. there’s always something worse. but there’s always something better too.”
he still doesn’t completely understand. but the weight on his shoulder doesn’t feel as heavy when you lean and kiss it again—he feels like at least some of his youth is still his, still yours.
“you make no sense,” he grunts, scowling when you ruffle his hair obnoxiously with a giggle.
“well, maybe you’ll make sense of things after a nap,” you poke his chest accusingly, “you really need one. and then you’ll eat something. c’mon.”
“i don’t sleep with wet hair,” he reminds you as you tug him along, stopping where his clothes hang. you gesture at him to hold his arms up, grabbing his shirt. he rolls his eyes and indulges you, letting you dress him.
“i’ll dry it for you,” you chuckle, “my sugu is so high maintenance.”
and then, before you can turn to grab your own clothes, he tugs your wrist and pulls you in, kissing you hard, kissing you hungrily, kissing you like you’re all he has. just because he can. he can taste the last bits of your chapstick—he wants to keep tasting it forever. it’s strawberry, his favorite.
“i like strawberries,” he presses his forehead to yours, closing his eyes, “so don’t change the flavor.”
“okay,” you grin, cupping his cheeks, “i’ll always get strawberry for my sugu.”
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he just needed a few kissies and he would’ve been fine. i guess i’ll take one for the team and kiss him a few times 😔 i guess i can take the responsibility of loving him 😔 i’ll be fine guys no need to worry about me 😔
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bet-on-me-13 · 2 months
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The First Supervillain
So! A Typical "Early Start" AU where the events of The Show happen early in the Timeline. Like, in the 70's or 80's.
Danny never quite managed to fix his Public Perception, and even years into his career people still saw him as the Villain.
Coincidentally Valerie was seen as a Hero because of how often they were seen fighting. Even after they revealed their Identities and got together, they still had the occasional Battle. It was their love language.
His role as the Villain was Cemented when Pariah launched his Second Invasion of Earth after some dumbass accidentally freed him, and Danny took the Blame for it. Instead of being seen as the Hero who battled Pariah and stopped the Invasion, he was seen as the Tyrant to launched the Invasion in the first place, with Red Huntess being the one to defeat him in one final Ultimate Battle.
And honestly? He was fine with that. Now that he was the King of the Ghost Zone, he had the Authority to Regulate the Portal so villains stopped getting through. And that meant that he wasn't needed to stop random Ghost Attacks anymore. He could finally focus on College and his own Life, instead of sacrificing everything to act as the Protector of the Human Realm.
Val continued to be a Hero for a few more years, eventually retiring when it became Clear that the new generation of Heroes could pick up the Slack.
He went to College, got a Job as an Aerospace Engineer, and eventually proposed to Valerie.
About 20 years since his initial Accident, and he was doing great! He had moved into a humble home on the edge of town with his loving wife Val, his beautiful daughter Ellie, and his cute dog Cujo.
Yeah, life was good.
Until the day Danny accidently caused a Mass Crisis.
...
Superman was having some extreme trouble in dealing with his current Opponent. He had just been flying around the City, patrolling as Usual, when all of a sudden he had been attacked by a Flying Mech Suit.
At first he had assumed that Lex was giving it another Go, but he quickly realized that was not the case when the Armor seemed to Phase though solid matter in the middle of the battle. Lex had never made Tech advanced enough to do that on the fly.
This opponent was tough too. Strong enough and Durable enough to go blow for blow with him, and seemingly able to pull Advanced Weaponry from out of nowhere whenever he wanted. As tough as it was to admit, Superman as losing the Battle.
Then, without warning, the battle stopped. His opponent was staring at the space just behind him, with a look of pure dread. He turned around, and his heart stopped.
Floating behind him, staring right past him and directly at the Mech Suit, was the First Villain Phantom.
He looked much the same as when he had last been seen, although he was definitely Older. He had snow white hair, and glowing green eyes that seemed to stare right past him and into his very soul. He was wearing what seemed to be a costume of sorts, with an all black suit, white gloves, and white boots. Over his Shoulders sat a Cloak made of Stars, and above his head sat a Crown made of an Icy Blue Fire.
The Mech tried for a greeting, "Er- Hello t-Lord Phantom. How do you d-"
"Skulker."
"Y-yes?"
"What are you doing here? I thought I gave you explicit orders to stay in the Ghost Zone until further notice. You disobeyed me."
"Okay look. I got excited, that's my fault. It's just, I got anxious waiting. Can you really blame me? I've been waiting 20 years to take another Crack at the Human World, what's it matter if I left a few weeks Early?"
"I told you. You were supposed to wait exactly 20 Years, and you left Early. This calls for punishment."
"No wait!"
"Let's see how you feel after a few days as Soup."
The Villain pulled out a Thermos, and in a flash of green light, Skulker was gone, and the King was capping the Thermos. He then turned to Superman.
"I apologize for him, he decided to leave ahead of schedule." The King addressed him. "Now, Kryptonian. Rest and tend to your wounds, you will need to be in your best health if you want to continue saving the lives of those people below us."
With a dramatic flare, the King reached up and Tore a hole in Space. Through the Hole, Superman could only see an infinite Green Void, with the sound of screams cheering being heard through the rift.
The King departed through the Tear in Spacetime, and it closed behind him.
Superman tried to collect himself, and activated his League Emergency Comms.
"Attention All Founding Members, and Justice League Dark Members. This is Superman calling for an immediate Emergency Meeting."
He took a deep breath.
"Phantom is Back."
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sweets4dolls · 2 months
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if you do alastor smut, could you whip something up with bunny girl reader, like imagine reader went to the hazbin hotel instead of val for work ~🍖
𝒷𝓊𝓃𝓃𝓎 𝒻𝓁𝑒𝓈𝒽
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pairing: alastor + bunny!f!reader
content warnings: smut, blood, mentions of religion, consuming of blood, kinda prey/predator relationship??, dubious consent, not proofread
notes: yayayayayyy alastor! :] ps y'all should most definitely try coke w cherry syrup next time you go out its sooooo gooddddd.
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you were lost on the streets, wandering around and sniffling, up until charlie found you and brought you to her hotel, thinking that you would be a perfect fit after seeing your cute and pure soul all lost, looking like a bunny no less.
it didn't take long for you to catch Alastor's attention either - after all, it wasn't like the hotel was receiving people by the masses. so when you came in, cheeks puffed and lips chewed into a raw shade after having cried so much after having lost your way, and you were guided to the bar expected to order some type of alcohol, you didn't - you ordered a coke with cherry syrup.
from that moment alastor had watched husk put the ice into the cup, pour in the coke, and add the cherry syrup, he had kept a watchful eye on you as you played Charlie's games and bonded with the other people at the hotel throughout the day, ultimately pushing him to decide to invite you to dinner.
later into the night, you wandered into the elevator and walked into alastor's room, eyes wide as they wandered around, admiring the scenery and decor.
"sit down, my dear!" he exclaims with his consistent smile as he gestures to the empty seat across from him, watching you as you plop yourself down into it and look at the spread of desserts and meats he had arranged.
"sweets for someone as sweet as you!" he laughs with a radio cackle flowing through his transatlantic accented voice, "why, I wasn't sure if someone as delicate as you could handle something as heavy as raw meat."
"oh, thank you alastor!" you say as smile at him sweetly and your hands move to pick up a bottle of coke - of course. of course that was the thing your weak little wrist would pick up in that adorably meretricious fashion of yours, even before you bothered to peel off your sweater and place it on the back of the chair.
as the night moved on, alastor had you telling him all about your little life back on earth, how pious you had been, how dedicated you had been to the faith, how you just didn't know how you'd ended up here. the more comfortable you got, the more relaxed your posture became and the more you seemed to go on in tangents - not that alastor minded, you were very good entertainment.
"dear, before the night is over, I do want you to do one thing for me," he says, figure now leaning towards you across the table as you nod your head. "mhm, anything," just what he wanted to hear. "it just so happens that I've never had bunny flesh before - would you be so kind as to let me try some?"
your big eyes grow even wider as you hear this, before stuttering out, "oh, you want it to pass me to you? where is it?" nervously before alastor shakes his head, making his way over to you and placing a claw on your shoulder, "no my dear, I meant your flesh" he says, staring down at you like you were prey, "don't fret, I won't take a bite out of you or anything of the sort, ha, no!" he laughs out, "I would just like to sample the goods, if you will."
not wanting to seem rude, you nodded your head yes nervously , ears flopping about as you did - after he fed you dinner, it was the least that you could do, right?
"good girl" he says before placing a hand against your chest, holding you in place as he lowered his head down to the area between you shoulder and neck and pricked your skin open with his teeth, making you yelp as he did, tepid tears glossing your cheeks. as he licked at the wound, a warm claw came up to your cheek, cupping it as a thumb swiped at the tears.
he pulls back, licking smeared blood from his lips as he smiles at you, admiring the way your ears trembled and tail twitched. "would you like a taste?"
just as you part your lips to answer, his mouth finds yours, long tongue licking into your open one. you gasp lightly, making him chuckle as he leans towards you and gently pushes you from the seat to the ground so he can climb on top of you, removing his jacket as he does so.
blushing, you breathe heavily, your little head filled with anticipation and panties full of slick as he crawls on top of you, ripping your panties straight off. "don't worry darling, I just want a taste," he says gently kisses down your neck, lightly nipping and drawing blood as he does.
your body shudders as Alastor's mouth finds your clit, tongue tracing it lightly just before he pushes his fingers into your tight little hole, making you gasp. your hands scrape at the grass, getting dirt under your nails and on your arms as alastor continues to fuck you on his tongue and fingers.
"w-wait, alastor, I'm gonna-" he cuts you off mumbling from beneath your cunt, "I know darling," he states as his lips latch around your clit and suck, knowing just what you need as it sends your thighs shaking and tail twitching as you cum.
"you taste just as sweet as I expect," he says, grinning at you as he licks his fingers before giving you another open-mouthed kiss.
just as you catch your breathe, alastor is hiking your legs over his shoulders and undoing his pants as he presses fleeting kisses over his bite marks, distracting you until he starts rubbing the head of his cock over your sticky slit, slowly pushing it in.
you whimper as alastor coos in your ear, "I know, I know bunny," your eyes roll as he finally starts thrusting, hands in yours. his jaw clenches as you flutter around him, feeling every vein in his cock, making his hips speed up.
still sensitive from just cumming, you squirm beneath him as he hits it hard, getting the sweet spot inside you with each thrust. he ruts into you harshly, bruising your cervix as one of his hands massages your swollen clit.
sensing you getting close, he speeds up his movements until you're releasing on his cock, fucking you gently through your orgasm, cumming inside you a few moments later before giving you a soft kiss on your forehead.
"bunny might be my new favorite flavor of flesh"
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porcelana-r0ta · 8 months
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let the mourners come
Title: let the mourners come
Ao3 Link: Only available to Ao3 users
Word Count: 3045
Summary:
It started, as most things do with Danny Fenton, as a joke.
It ended, as most things do with Jazz Fenton, with things better than they were before.
xxXxx
When Danny finally gets a Twitter, it’s during Elon Musk’s shit show takeover. He’s able to secure a good Twitter handle thanks to people leaving en masse and fleeing to Tumblr. He knows about things that happen outside of Amity Park (he is terminally online rather than chronically, after all), but he still doesn’t think anything of using @TheJoker as his handle, even knowing about Gotham City’s clown troubles. It’s just going to be a shitpost account, anyway, one that dances in the chaos of Elon’s electronic graveyard. Nothing will come about him using @TheJoker when he’s merely posting things like, “Just grew a new row of teeth!!! very pointy but can’t go to the dentist anymore bc they might turn me in to the giw.”
So Danny honestly never foresaw The Actual Real Joker breaking out of Arkham Asylum all the way in Gotham City, New Jersey, and deciding to get a Twitter account to terrorize people online as well as offline. And he definitely never foresaw The Joker @’ing him on Twitter, demanding that Danny change his Twitter handle. But, well. Here he was. 
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[Image Description: A screenshot of a Twitter reply chain, starting with the real Joker @'ing Danny's Twitter account, which uses TheJoker as his Twitter handle. The Joker, who has a verified account, demands that Danny "change your handle", and Danny replies with a simple "no" followed by red heart emoji. The Joker Tweets, "Kid you don't know who you're fucking with," to which Danny replies, "Ye I do ur some dude w/ poor fashion sense and lame jokes. Maybe try badjokesbyjeff bc originality is ugly on u" followed by a shrugging emoticon. The Joker responds, "Check your DMs." Danny then responds, "Perf [happy emoji surrounded by hearts] I've sent you a time and place. Can't wait to beat the shit out of another disgrace of a clown." Someone with the username "Gregg rulz ok" responds to Danny's last Tweet, "Bro is absolutely RATIOING the joker but the clown keeps responding [three skull emojis] embarrassing frfr too bad he's gonna die for realsies".
End ID]
Danny is quick to respond and then makes even quicker work of roasting The Joker. This soon results in The Joker DMing him his IP Address and a creative threat. Still, Danny isn’t about to cow to a clown with no respect for the art of clowning. He replies to the DM: 
Cool, meet me at the Nasty Burger parking lot in Amity Park IL on tuesday at 2am
The response from The Joker is quick:
Fourteen year olds are too confident these days
Danny rolls his eyes and ignores the influx of notifications from Twitter, and instead makes another Tweet.
Imagine beefing with someone over a Twitter handle lol acc so embarrassing for him
He blackens his screen and stretches in bed, letting his spine pop more than what is humanly possible. He runs his tongue over that second row of teeth, his lips curling into a grin. 
xxXxx
Gothamite Twitter is blowing up over The Joker’s social media beef with a faceless shitposting account. Jason, upon finding out about it, has a series of reactions: first, he looks up the shitposter and follows them. Then, he finds the actual chain between the poster and The Joker, and his vision goes vibrant green when he sees that The Joker’s profile picture is of the second Robin, beaten and swollen in an abandoned building in Ethiopia. 
When his vision clears and he can breathe without wanting to kill, he likes the shitposter’s replies, and he calls the Replacement to see if the other Bats know already.
“We know,” Tim says in lieu of a hello when the ringing cuts out. “We’re working on it.”
“What, you think anything’s gonna come of it?” But even as Jason asks, he already knows the answer. The Joker is unhinged and once he’s threatened something, he’ll follow up unless he comes up with a “funnier” option. 
Tim’s breath hitches, and he says, “I’ve hacked their DMs. Joker knows the kid’s IP address and sent it to him. He knows everything from that address alone.”
He pauses in the middle of suiting up, “Kid?”
He hears Tim swallow, “Yes, kid. He’s fifteen. And he gave The Joker a specific time and place to meet up to fight. In his own hometown.”
“Are— are you fucking kidding me?” 
“No. B is already calling Nightwing. We’re taking the Batwing to Illinois.”
“Jesus fuck. I’ll be there in twenty.”
“Hood, I—”
“Shut up, I’m already in my gear.” He hangs up without waiting for a response. 
He refreshes the Twitter feed and barks a laugh at the newest Tweet:
Jason Todd votes, and the Red Hood leaves his safe house. 
xxXxx
A commercial flight to Illinois takes around two and a half hours. In the Batwing, they get there in an hour, and don’t even have to worry about the drive from Chicago to a small speck of a town like Amity Park. They spend the quick flight learning everything they can about Daniel James Fenton, the owner of the Twitter account, and they can all sense the growing tension from (and between) Bruce and Jason.
But, well. Jason doesn’t care. Let them be uncomfortable. It doesn’t compare to being ripped back into life and finding out his dad didn’t even get justice for his death. 
When they reach town, it doesn’t take long to find the Fentons’ home. This is in part because Amity Park is a very navigable town, and because of the giant neon sign proclaiming FentonWorks on the side of the building. 
“Is that a blimp?” Dick asks. “Why don’t we have a blimp?” 
“Where would we keep it?” the Demon Brat counters practically. “Goliath takes up all of the Cave’s extra space.” 
Jason rolls his eyes and knows veins would be popping out of Bruce’s forehead if it weren’t for the cowl. 
“Let’s go,” Bruce says instead, and they all make their way to the house. 
Nightwing, predictably, goes for the front door approach. Jason rolls his eyes as he takes one of the second-story windows and finds his way downstairs.
He gets down at the same time that a redheaded girl answers the door and nearly slams it in Dick’s face. Jason has to suppress snickers at the sight. 
“Wait, wait, wait, are you Jazz Fenton? We need to talk to your brother!” 
“...We?” she asks, then tenses and turns around to see the rest of the Bats in the hall behind her. Dick takes the opportunity to step in completely, closing the door behind him. “Wha— what’s going on?”
“Where are your parents, Jazz?” Bruce makes every question sound like a demand. Jason rolls his eyes from behind his mask—way to put the teenager at ease, B.
“Why do you need to know?” Her voice has a defensive edge to it. “What do you want with Danny?” 
“Hey, it’s okay,” Nightwing comforts. “He didn’t do anything too bad, just said some dumb things online. It’s not his fault.” 
This relaxes her, and her shoulders begin un-hunching. “Oh, s-so what’d he do?”
“He foolishly challenged The Joker to a battle in a ‘Nasty Burger’ parking lot tonight.” 
“You could’ve had some more tact, Robin,” Nightwing scolds. But the Demon Spawn just crosses his arms. 
“He did what?” Jazz shrieks. “Like, The Joker from Gotham? That Joker?”
“Are there others?” Red Hood comments dryly. 
Her face goes through several different emotions—disbelief, rage, fear, and then rage again, “DANIEL JAMES FENTON! GET DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!” 
There’s a thumping noise, and then frantic footsteps down the stairs. 
“Wha? Who died?” asks the figure of a tiny fifteen-year-old, smaller than even Jason had been when he was alone with The Joker. He’s tiny and lanky. Zero muscle definition. Eye bags to rival the Replacement’s. Something ripples in the Pit, deep and distinct, but he can’t name what causes it.
Oh, this kid is so dead. 
“Danny,” says Jazz calmly while Danny blinks uncomprehendingly at the heroes in their hallway. She is solemn when she says, “I’m afraid I’m going to have to kill you now.” 
“What did I do?” 
She stares at him, “Why have you scheduled a fight with The Joker?” 
“Oh, that.” He rubs the back of his neck, “Is he taking that seriously?”
“Of course he is, Danny! It’s The Joker! That’s what he does! He can’t differentiate between a joke and reality! He would tear off his own face for the bit!” 
“Oof,” is all Danny can muster. He digs his phone out and starts typing before Jazz yanks it out his hand. 
“You’re fucking TWEETING about this?” Jazz asks incredulously, and Hood’s hackles rise. She even reads the Tweet aloud, “‘Just found out @TheJ0ker is being fr about fighting me. Sad but i can take a clown.’”
“I was gonna add ‘i’ve done it b4,’ but like the letter and the number four. But yeah.” 
“You’re grounded forever.” Danny opens his mouth to protest, but the look Jazz cuts at him is so scathing that he shuts his mouth. Hood is reluctantly impressed—she had what could be cultivated into a fantastic Batglare. She pockets the phone, “You’re never getting this phone back. Taunting The Joker to Amity? Have you any brain cells? What if he brings Joker gas with him, huh? Or any of his goons? What if he starts hurting other people? Have you thought any of this through?” 
Danny’s face goes from tired to chastised, his lips drawing into a frown, especially at the mention of other people. 
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t think that he’d take it so seriously.”
“He sent you your IP Address.”
“I thought that was just a random string of numbers?”
“Oh my god,” Jazz despairs. “Oh my god. Grounded forever. See, I know you're lying to me. I know you're lying because Tucker, the nerdiest tech nerd to have ever been born, is your best friend.”
He rubs the back of his neck, “I tune him out?”
“You’re still lying to me?” Jazz scoffs and turns to Batman, “Do whatever you want with him. I’m not going to defend him from this.” 
“Hey!” complained her brother, but Batman just continued on, “Where are your parents?”
“They’re in Sweden for a science convention,” Jazz answers. “They left this morning.” 
Damn, Jason curses to himself. 
“Jazz, seriously. You’re not gonna let Batman kill me, right?” 
“Do you want to be cremated or buried, Danny?” Jazz asks blasély, and Danny gulps, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes. 
“It’s my Twitter handle,” he mutters petulantly, and Jason can’t believe the gall of this kid. Or maybe stupidity. Audacity’s a good one, too. “If he wanted it, he should’ve gotten it first. And he gives clowns a bad name.” 
“Not the clown thing again.” Jazz digs her palms into her eyes, sighs, then turns to the heroes. “He has a whole clown thing ever since Circus Gothica came to town and robbed a bunch of jewelry stores.” 
Danny gestures wildly with his hands, as if demonizing clowns was the real problem and not the egomaniacal mass murderer who wanted to murder him for his Twitter handle, “Clowning is an art form, Jazz, and people like Freakshow and The Joker make a mockery of the very serious societal statements that clowns make!” 
All of the Bats very carefully Did Not look at Nightwing, who has made very similar rants on quiet patrols.
“You are never leaving this house again,” she says serenely. “And I’m unplugging the wifi router.”
“You would punish even yourself?”
“Oh, little brother. I would watch the world burn if it meant knocking sense into your thick skull.” 
“Okay, Christ,” Red Hood finally interrupted the siblings’ melodrama. An unyielding redheaded girl and a mouthy black-haired, blue-eyed boy? They’d fit in a little too well back at the Manor, so Jason needs to cut this shit out before Bruce’s bat-doption instincts start tingling. “Stop. Just… Christ. Stop. Is this how you always interact with each other?”
“Sometimes there’s explosions,” Danny pipes up, a cheeky grin on his face. 
Jazz doesn’t dispute it. 
Fucking hell. God damn it. I can’t. I just can’t. 
Batman doesn’t give anything away, “Robin and Red Robin will be staying here with you until Nightwing, Hood, and I apprehend The Joker. First, we’re going to check the perimeter.” 
“Oooh, I get to give the lab tour!” 
Lab?
“No lab. You’re grounded. You’ll only be in there for cleaning duty now.”
“Wh– hey! No fair!” 
“What’s this lab you two are talking about?” Red Robin asks before Jazz can rip into her brother again. 
She sighs, “Our parents’ lab. I’ll show you, but someone needs to stay with Danny.” 
“You act like I’m gonna run off and start World War III….”
“I wonder why,” she says sarcastically.
Batman nods to Robin, who nods back, and the rest of them follow Jazz out of the living room to a metal reinforced door. She types in a code—Jason catches the numbers 03-14-99. There’s an assenting beep, and she opens the door, flicking on the lights and leading them down into what is apparently a basement lab. 
A stone settles in Red Hood’s stomach, cold and heavy. 
The basement is large, likely the floor size of the entire building. There are several work tables, filled with miscellaneous blueprints and spare parts and weapons and tools. Against the farthest wall is another armored door, but what draws Hood’s—and the entire Batclan’s—attention is the south wall, where a circular hole in the wall was glowing a toxic Pit green. 
The stone shattered in his stomach, splintering into his body. Is it harder or easier to breathe? Jason can’t tell. 
“Wow,” says Nightwing. His voice is cheerful, but Jason can feel the stress beneath it. “Do I even want to know?” 
Wasn’t this supposed to just be typical Joker bullshit?
“Our parents are ectobiologists,” Jazz explains nonchalantly, walking further into the lab. “As in, ghost biologists.” She pauses at one of the work tables, picking up a green and white thermos. Pretty boring, considering the rest of their surroundings. 
“Ghosts.” Red Robin’s voice is carefully neutral. 
“Ghosts,” Jazz reaffirms. “I know. I thought they were crazy at first, too. But I can prove it, if you like.” Then, without waiting for a yes or no, she untwists the thermos, and there’s a bright flash of white, and a whole entire body sprouting out of it. 
“WHOO! I’M FREE!” cries the…being, pale and floating and lanky and entirely too big to have fit into a fucking thermos, of all the fucking things. “....And not in the Realms? Wait.” He stops stretching, descending to rest closer to the ground, but still hovering a few inches from the floor. He’s got green eyes and lifeless (ha) blond hair. He’s wearing a trenchcoat and a green skull necklace. Overall, he looks like the type of thug he’d arrest in the Bowery. 
“Hello, Johnny.” The man’s—ghost’s?—eyes flicker around each person in the room, his gaze becoming more and more confused and panicked as he takes in each Bat, before settling on Jazz Fenton. 
“Why are the fucking Bats here?” 
“The Joker’s coming to Amity,” she says. The ghost’s eyes widen. Jazz tilts her head, “How many ghosts would you say passed away in Gotham, Johnny?” 
As Jason and the Bats tense, this Johnny guy lets out a wicked laugh, “Oh, Doll, you have the best surprises. Why did we break up?” 
“You did try to have my body possessed. That ruins any good relationship.” 
“Man, but Kitty’ll love this. Thanks for letting me out of Soup Time, Doll.” He floats higher, “Any advice?” 
She throws him the phone she’d confiscated from Danny and he catches it easily, “Everything’s on here. Have fun.”
“What exactly are you planning?” Batman scowls. 
Johnny laughs, “Aww, don’t worry, Bats. Peace and love on Planet Earth, or whatever. We’ll make it quick.” Then, as the Bats leap into action as one, Johnny turns invisible, the Batarangs passing harmlessly through where he’d once been floating. 
“Where did he go?” Batman turns his scowl, angrier than ever, to Jazmin Fenton, who stares back unflinchingly. “He’s going to solve the problem.”
“You mean he’s going to kill The Joker.”
She shakes her head, “Oh, no. That’d just be asking for him to come back as a ghost. Could you imagine a Joker with powers like invisibility, intangibility, flight, and more? Johnny can be impulsive, but he’s smart. None of them will kill The Joker.” 
“Then what are they going to do?” Red Robin asks. 
“My parents are ectobiologists,” Jazz repeats from earlier. “But I am more of an anthro-ectopologist. I am concerned with the study of ectoplasmic beings’ societies and cultures. And while it is very ancient, there is protocol in the Infinite Realms—that is, where you go when you die, should you remain after death—to prosecute living criminals who have killed a certain number of Realms citizens. So you don’t have to worry about your moral code, Batman. The Joker will be tried by a much fairer court than Gotham can ever hope to have. No offense.” 
Jason stares at Jazz Fenton, who he’d pegged as the sane sibling. He’s not so sure now, but he can’t say he hates it.
“And how do we know it’s a fair trial?” Nightwing asks. 
She waves her hand, “Oh, as Gotham’s Knights, you’re key witnesses. I’m sure you’ll be summoned to testify. You will see then. And don’t worry about your secret identities—the dead don’t care much for that sort of thing.” 
“So if this is a ‘fair’ trial or whatever, The Joker’s going to be locked up forever?” Jason asks. “I mean, that’s the only option for shit like him.” 
Batman sends him a look, but he ignores it. 
“Well, there are several different punishments that could be deemed appropriate, but he’ll never be able to set foot in the mortal world again, yes.” 
Jason Todd grins, “Oh, I’m glad your brother’s stupid, kid.” 
She sighs, long-suffering, “Well, that makes one of us. Still, there’s more important things we should discuss now that you’re here.”
“More important than The Joker trying to kill your brother over a Twitter handle?” Red Robin asks doubtfully. 
Jazz smiles, sharp and dangerous, and asks, ”Have you ever heard of the Anti-Ecto Acts?” 
xxXxx
Several months later when Danny is finally un-grounded, he Tweets his last three Tweets before Twitter can become the foolishly named X: 
Imagine bullying the Joker so hard that it not only lands the Joker in ghost prison BUT it also leads to major law reform in the US lmao someone make the domino effect meme about this pls
Y’allre replying to me with thanks like i did anything other than be an internet troll. My sister literally manipulated local, federal, and interdimensional law so you should be thanking her. 
i just a babie 🥺🥺🥺
xxXxx
Thanks for reading! This is the whole fic, so pls do not ask for tags! Thank you :)
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angxlofvenus · 9 months
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hi, hi, hi! could I request the brothers + diavolo during a meeting together when their s/o (the mc) starts to doze off and then suddenly faint? Turns out, the MC forgot to drink water that day-
That happened to mr a few days ago, it wasn't fun - so here's a reminder for you to drink some water too :')
Thank you so much for the request!!! I am so so sorry to hear that happened, I hope you're doing better <3 If anything in this post seems insensitive please let me know! Have a wonderful rest of your day/night
Genre: Mostly fluff, Some Hurt/Comfort Ship: Demon Brother+Diavolo x reader (individual) TW: Minimal cussing, mentions of fainting, mass panic, yelling, second person pov for reader (If I missed anything please tell me!!)
When You Faint
You watched as the clock slowly ticked by the minutes as the Demons around you spoke amongst themselves, Your talking had slowly come to a stop as the room started to spin, Some of the men looked at you strangely but nobody expected you to fall out of your chair and onto the council room floor...
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Lucifer
He's immediately up out of his chair
Oh lord, he’s now fully in mother mode-
Barking orders at everyone, Yes this includes Dia
As soon as he gets over to you his wings are out, shielding you from everyone else
Once you come to, He isn’t letting you out of his sight
And once he finds out you fainted because of dehydration? 
He would so buy you one of those big ass waterbottles 
One of these mfs
Mammon
Freaking out pt. 1
Definitely hootin’ and hollering
He is indeed making a scene
Won’t really be on you until after you wake up because he knows Lucifer and Diavolo can do more for you then he can
After you have awoken though? He isn’t letting you out of his sight
You don’t have to worry about remembering to drink water, He’s there to remind you now!
Humans are such fragile creatures and now that he's seen that firsthand, He will barely let you do anything
He will make sure you are healthy whether you like it or not dammit
Levi
Freaks out pt. 2
Somehow freaking out even more then Mammon
He doesn’t know what to do! He leaves his room one time and this is what happens!
Will kind of just stand there in shock as everyone erupts into chaos
He isn’t the best example of someone who looks after their body lets be honest
But when ya’ll are gaming You’ll start to see some more healthy options popping up in the mix of chips and soda
He will beat himself up over not noticing, Please comfort this man before he decides you resent him
He won’t ever really bring it up but rest assured, It will never happen again
Satan
Would also run to your aid
He has read a lot of medical books in his time, He knows what to do
Would take you to a doctor afterwards, just in case
Kind of beats himself up for being unaware of your condition
I don’t think he’d freak out as badly after the incident, He knows it was probably a one time thing
Will bring up in conversation casually if you’ve eaten and drank water today, just to be sure
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Asmo
Screams
Freaks out pt. 3
Yelling at Lucifer/Satan to do something!
Will be all over you as soon as you’re awake
Don’t scare him like that! 
Will get extra pouty when he learns why you passed out
Has Ya’lls self-care sessions meant nothing to you?!
No more of that, not on his watch
He will offer you water at random times throughout the day
Studying? Water! Watching Tv? Water! Sleeping? Water! no, no, Beauty sleep is important
Beel
Doesn’t knows what's happening, Why are you on the floor?
Will stand on the sidelines concerningly as he watches Lucifer take over, He trusts his brother to help you
Will also feel immense guilt he didn’t see the signs, He just wants to keep everyone safe 🙁
When he thinks Ya’ll are doing something too straining for a human, He’ll stop to ask if you’re okay/ need a break
Will start carrying around a water bottle specifically for you 
Belphie
He totally wasn’t sleeping when it happened, nope
Woke up to his brothers and the Prince of the Devildom freaking out around you
I don’t think he’d really get too involved with helping since he doesn’t actually know wtf just happened
If you don’t immediately perk back up, He’s gonna cuss out Lucifer and maybe try to fight him
Gets a little snappy at everyone (except you ofc) after the incident
He even started to set alarms on your DDD as reminders to drink water
Will tease you just a teeny bit, But you can tell how worried the entire thing actually makes him
Diavolo
Was over to you in record time
Commands everyone to step back from you while he calls Barbatos and a royal doctor
You will be given the best treatment don't worry
He thinks he's being very sneaky about making you drink more water He is so obvious about it, it hurts
You will definitely notice how Barbatos now almost immediately refills your glass as soon as it’s half full
Another one to openly ask if you’ve drank enough water that day
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breesperez139 · 6 months
Text
Dc x Dp Prompt #4
Viral Thirst Trap AU:
The only thing Danny could feel right now was complete and utter humiliation. As always, it started off as a joke. Tiktok was something Amity Park didn’t have access to for a while considering the fact that they were cut off from the rest of the world until a few months ago when Technus and Tucker teamed up to fix the media blackout.
Amity Park debated on this topic heavily weighing the pros and cons and eventually decided on the outside world only knowing about things Amity Park allowed. Meaning unless an Amity Parker posted it on social media platform meant for the public, no one would know. Hacking would be impossible without ghost resistant tech and visitors wouldn’t be able to expose anything without it so truly there was no downside to this unless someone slipped.
Inside jokes on Phantom and Amity Park were a norm often leaving others confused before scrolling and moving on. In fact most of the posts coming from Amity Park are ignored by the masses. But not this one. No this time someone just had to post a thirst trap edit of him under the “think I need someone older” sound with the caption “when he fits the Bill 😍😍“ on tiktok.
And he knows it’s meant to tease him because of the Invis-o-Bill reference (which fuck whoever’s acc that was for bringing that up) but why did it have to go viral?? Like yes he knows this is a joke on him being “older” because of time travel shenanigans and “colder” because of his ice and “take the weight off your shoulders” because he’s a hero. But why??
Now he had people simping over him and wanting to know more about him and Amity Park (and man where they overjoyed to let others know about their local (and favorite) hero). And just when he thought his undead life couldn’t get any worse, the fucking JL had to show up after he was kidnapped (summoned) by some crazy ass cult. Even worse, their sidekicks immediately recognized him as the quote unquote “hot dead hero from tiktok”. Someone finish killing him now.
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sugarlywhispers · 1 month
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☆– a.n; here's a lil piece for valentine's day, even tho it was yesterday <3
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Your first kiss with Bakugou was nothing like you expected. You thought, because of his fiery personality, that it was going to be fireworks and heat and passion all over. 
How wrong you were.
Bakugou Katsuki was a massive bundle of nerves, completely clumsy even in his walk–and Jesus, seeing that big mass of muscles trip on his own feet each two or three steps in your walk home from your date, gave you several heart attacks thinking he might kiss the ground at any minute. 
You were not expecting this at all. He was so confident when it came to his job, to his friends, to any situation he was in. Except you. Least to say, it took him for-fucking-ever to ask you out, and when he did, he stumbled upon his words and instead of asking you dinner he asked you, "would you like t'go hungry wit' me?" It took you a minute to understand, he almost backed down due to the embarrassment. Obviously, you grabbed his arm, avoiding him to run away –or better said, explode himself away– and said yes. That night, at the door of your apartment, he tried to kiss you. He bumped his forehead with yours in the rush to get his face closer down to you. He apologized and left.
You remember thinking, that was all. He was not going to speak to you ever again, or at least until his embarrassment backed down a bit, which could be months. It surprised you to see him the next morning entering the little coffee shop you owned with a bucket of roses in his hand, cheeks cutely tinted pink and a funny scowl in his face, lips slightly pout.
You decided then that it was your turn to ask him on a date. Of course, he said yes. But this time, you decided to eat something at your apartment and watch movies. Something easy and comfy. No need to let the pressure of going outside invade him, considering who he is and what it means to be seeing outside on a date with the Number Two Pro Hero. You still didn't know how people hadn't already said something about your first date, when Bakugou took you to a very expensive and recognized restaurant.
After dinner, clearly prepared by him and shared in between cheeky jokes, laughs and innuendos, you were finishing washing the dishes while he dried them. It was that domestic kind of view, him smiling relaxed and amused, his big hero body taking a big portion of space in your small apartment kitchen, his hip resting on the counter, hands busy with his task, the lines at the corner of his eyes showing how happy he actually felt, it was all of him that made you realize…
It’s him.
Bakugou Katsuki is the one.
When he finished, he folded the cloth he was using to dry the last plate and placed it on the counter behind him, before he turned to you, the amusement of the last funny thing you said still printed on his face. “What?”
“I’m going to kiss you, Bakugou Katsuki, so don’t move.” You don’t want a repentance of last time and the bump he left on your forehead thanks to his nervousness.
He visually gulped and you chuckled, but still gave him time to assimilate your words, and your actions, so you moved slowly as if it was a scaredy cat you were dealing with. His breathing was loudly heard with each movement of yours and his hands grabbed the counter strongly like his life depended on that grip. He was serious now, concentrated even in not moving. And that was so cute, that even if he looked that desperate to get close to you, he also wanted to do as you said.
You stepped closer, hand coming to rest just above his heart, and his chest loosened. Katsuki let go of his anchor at the kitchen counter and slipped his hands around your waist immediately and tugged you against him, brushing your noses together. Choosing to dive into whatever ocean you were living as a siren in.
 “If you don’t want to…”
Oh, yeah. You were going to make him say it. Because he was Bakugou freaking Katsuki and you were on fucking cloud nine at the knowledge that he wanted you as much as you wanted him.
“If you don't kiss me right now…” he murmured, voice trembling, and you couldn't avoid the smirk that appeared on your face.
“Then what?” You whisper, your other arm surrounding his neck as your fingers interlace with the short hair at the back of his head, and he breathes out loud.
“Then I'll… I’ll have to do it myself.”
You looked up at him through your eyelashes, smiling one more time, before your lips finally pressed over his. This time softly, generously and carefully loving.
His arms around your waist tightened just as his heart beated fast and strong under your hand. A clear sign that he was as human as you. And he felt as deep into you as you to him.
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sunshinescribes · 6 months
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Hi Sunny!! So I can’t get the idea of Trafalgar Law waking up in the arms of his female crush or s/o (early on in their relationship) with his face buried in her chest as the reader pulled him into her cleavage in her sleep! In my mind I can’t decide if Law is shy or lowkey perverted! It all suits him well to me, so you do with that what you want.
So may I get something like that? It could be either fluff or a starter for smut I just would love to read something like this 😍
I hope I made sense and thank you in advance 💓💓
ASK AND YE SHALL RECEIVE…
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Law doesn’t recall his bed ever feeling this soft and warm.
He also doesn’t recall ever having such peaceful sleep. The dark circles under his eyes and his tendency to be irritable are a testament to how often sleep evades him.
His eyes are still closed, his mind groggy but very much alert, and his body has yet to catch up. His limbs feel heavy, as if the simple act of lifting his hand would take all the effort in the world. It’s a strange sensation—would be fucking terrifying if not for the warmth that radiates through his body, an unfamiliar comfort that tells him everything is alright—he’s safe.
Law groans softly as sleep finally releases its hold on him. He blinks slowly, eyes adjusting to the dim light the lamp on his desk casts over his room. He’d forgotten to turn it off last night, pulling his usual all-nighter. He had been flipping through a medical textbook, his eyes heavy, words blurring and blending, and yet he couldn’t compel himself to go to bed.
And then a soft knock sounded at his door, accompanied by your voice, softly asking if he was still awake. He’d let you in with little convincing, and then…and…then?
Law nearly chokes when his eyes fully adjust, realizing his face is buried in your chest. Your softness, your warmth—this is what he was feeling, what had helped him stay in sleep's warm embrace. The missing memory finally comes back to him—you slipping into his room, scantily dressed. You’d made a beeline to his bed, patting the empty space beside you as you called his name. Lay with me for a bit? You’d asked so sweetly, with those pretty eyes of yours watching him, waiting expectantly. He had been slow to comply, but soon his book was forgotten, his chair empty as he laid down beside you. You had rubbed soft circles against his back and tiredly whispered, You gotta get some sleep, Doc.
And so he did.
Law carefully stirs, tries not to disturb you as you continue to sleep restfully beneath him. He can’t be caught with his face between your breasts like some kind of demented, sex-crazed pervert—no matter how unbelievably soft they are (and maybe he finally understands Black Leg’s obsession). Not that he’s opposed to sex, especially the idea of having it with you, but that’s a line you two haven’t crossed yet, and he’ll be damned if he looks like he’s trying to take advantage of you in your sleep.
He turns his head, accidentally nosing your breast in his failed attempt to move away. Law stills as noise escapes your lips, light and airy, and one of the most beautiful sounds he thinks he’ll ever hear—your laughter.
Law glances up at you, finding your pretty, tired eyes already trained on him, and the corners of your lips pull upward as you chuckle. He feels heat flood his cheeks, not knowing how long you’ve been awake or what you must make of his head still being positioned between your tits.
“Mornin’,” you greet him with a smile. “I think? I can never tell in this damn tin can.”
The quickly formulated explanations catch in Law’s throat as he blinks up at you, surprised you aren’t offended or even a little shocked with his current placement.
Relief washes over him in waves.
“If this was a tin can, we’d be food for sea kings by now,” he retorts, his voice thick with sleep.
You playfully roll your eyes—he’s so sensitive about his metal deathtrap—before lifting your hand to thread through his thick, dark tresses. “You know what I mean…”
Law hums contentedly as you massage his scalp, turning him boneless with your touch. It’s moments like this that he swears you have devil fruit powers—some kind of supernatural ability to completely dismantle his defenses. His eyes flutter shut as he basks in your touch—the softness of your flesh beneath his face and the soft patter of your steady heartbeat. He wouldn’t mind staying in this moment forever, far away from the threats that plague him and his thoughts.  
“Mind if we stay like this a little longer?” he asks—murmurs, as sleep extends a welcoming hand to him once more.
He can’t see your face, but he hears the smile in your voice when you answer. “As long as you need, Captain.”
ONE THING Y’ALL ARE GONNA LEARN ABOUT ME IS THAT IF I HAVE THE CHANCE TO WRITE FLUFF I ABSOULTELY WILL.
Thanks for the request anon! I hope you enjoyed!
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astrophileous · 5 months
Note
hi !!! can i request literally anything with spencer based on "in a world of boys he's a gentleman"? everytime i hear it on tiktok i just think of him and i physically cannot😭😭 thanks a lot <3
ANON YOUR ✨️MIND✨️!!! I go crazy over any edit of spencer with slut! audio omfg and you're absolutely right, the lyrics scream HIM SO MUCH 😭🫶 Thanks for the request lovely ❤️ btw some parts of this are kinda similar to details of my other blurbs but you know what? idc 🥰 I hope you still enjoy it tho &lt;3
Warning(s): fem!reader, minor injury (scrapped knee), reader being stood up, profanities
This blurb was written as a part of the "Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K" celebration.
Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist
"Hey, what are you doing here?"
You turned around at the familiar voice. "Spencer? What are you doing here?"
"I'm on the job. Were you inside the club?"
You glanced at the entrance of the establishment behind you. "Yeah, I was. Can you tell me what's going on? Why was everyone evacuated? Is everything alright?"
"Everything's fine, angel. Don't worry. We've got things under control." Spencer looked around at the mass of people in your immediate surroundings. "I thought you said you had a date today?"
You shuffled your weight from foot to foot, ducking your head so Spencer couldn't read the embarrassment on your face. "I do. My date, he's—well, he said he saw some of his friends earlier and went to say hi, but then we got evacuated, so..."
Spencer frowned. "He hasn't contacted you yet?"
"No." You looked at your phone again for good measure, hoping that somehow your date had dropped in a text or a missed call in the two minutes since the last time you checked the device, but alas. "Maybe he doesn't have service? The signal on my phone has been terrible as well."
You and Spencer both knew that it was a pathetic excuse, but you were thankful that he chose to brush past it completely.
"Are you cold?" Spencer asked when he saw you shudder. He instantly took off the FBI bomber he was wearing and draped it on your shoulders. "Here. You know you get cold easily. Why didn't you bring a coat?"
Truthfully speaking, you didn't think you would need a coat when you left your place earlier that night. After all, your date was going to drive you from your apartment to the club and back. How were you supposed to know that he was going to stand you up halfway through your date, leaving you alone and freezing in the middle of a sidewalk?
Perhaps the fact that he decided to bring you to a club out of all places for a first date should have been your first red flag all along.
"Better now?" Spencer asked.
"Yes. Thank you, Spencer."
Someone bumped against you from behind, and before you could dive head first onto the curb, Spencer caught your fall mid-air. He led you away from the mob of people littering the club entrance with protective arms enveloping your shoulders.
"What happened to your leg?" Spencer asked when he saw the slight limp in your walk.
"Oh, that? I, um, kinda grazed it against the pavement when I fell."
"You fell?!"
"Well—" you winced when a particular step sent a jolt to your limb, "—believe it or not, people can get real physical when they panic, and a sudden PSA to evacuate the premises is apparently the surest way to do it."
"Let me see." Before you could stop him, Spencer was already kneeling in front of you in the middle of the road. He flipped the sheer material of your skirt so he could inspect the damage. "Shit, angel. You're bleeding. Why didn't you say anything?"
Carefully, Spencer ushered you towards the nearest ambulance, sitting you down at the back before requesting a first aid kit from the paramedic.
"Need help with that?" the paramedic asked.
"No, thank you. I've got her."
The way Spencer said the phrase made your entire insides heat up all at once. It didn't help that for the following minutes, you had to endure all the gentle ministrations Spencer was doing to treat your scraped knee. You were both glad and mournful when Spencer finished dressing the wound, your skin tingling with the aftermath of his delicate touches.
Spencer took a seat right next to you. "Still no word from your date?"
"No." You sighed. "I don't even wanna think about him right now. Should've trusted my instinct and not go on this stupid date in the first place."
"Why did you go anyway?"
"I didn't feel right canceling just like that. Deirdre went through great trouble setting it up for me."
Deirdre, bless her heart, was your best friend and closest confidant. She was also the person who arranged this blind date for you because she was, quote-unquote, tired of seeing you pining over a certain FBI agent with an IQ of 187.
"For a certified genius, he's sure as hell real dumb if he hasn't figured out how you feel about him by now," Deirdre had said once upon a time.
So, like the good friend that she was, Deirdre set this blind date in hopes that you would finally stop moping around and start moving on instead.
"Your date is a friend of Deirdre's?" Spencer questioned.
"No, no, no. I think he's a coworker of her sister's husband or something? Anyway, thought I'd at least show up and have fun, y'know? I didn't expect that I would be the one getting stood up."
Spencer clenched his jaw. "Well, you can tell Deirdre that her sister's husband's coworker is a brainless dickhead."
"Spencer!" You wanted to reprimand him, but the giggles that broke through betrayed your intention completely. "You don't know that. You've never even met the guy."
"Don't need to. He's got to be the biggest idiot in the world to have the audacity to stand you up when he should be thanking you for even giving him the time of day in the first place."
Your stomach churned into knots. "You appraise me way too highly, Spencer."
"I appraise you exactly as you deserve." Spencer's shoulder bumped against yours. Even under the layers of clothes you were wearing, your skin still managed to burn. "I wish you could see that."
His words washed over you like a high tide. Spencer was the only one who held such power in the world; the power to render you compliant just by the utterance of several words.
It should have been terrifying.
"Do you want to go home?" Spencer offered as he rose to his feet. "C'mon. I'll drive you."
"What? But your case—"
"They'll be fine without me."
You followed him to one of the parked SUVs several paces ahead. Spencer meandered for a minute towards a group of people whom you could only assume was his team. You offered a small wave and an awkward smile when their gazes slithered your way.
"I feel bad for taking you away like this," you admitted once Spencer returned. He had tendrils of curly hair falling down his forehead, and it took every willpower you had not to reach out and stroke them away.
"It's fine. They understand. We all cover each other all the time when one of us has more urgent things to do."
You were 100% certain that taking you home should not have been categorized as "more urgent things to do". After all, Spencer was a federal agent working a federal case, and you could've easily taken the metro or a taxi back to your place. If it had been any other person with you at that moment—if it had been any other guy—you doubted they would have gone through all those troubles for you.
But Spencer was different.
In a world of boys, Spencer Reid was a gentleman.
He opened the car door for you before getting himself into the driver's seat. The drive back to your apartment lasted a little over twenty minutes. You stared at the building outside your window before turning to face Spencer.
"I'm sorry again for hindering you from your job."
"Are you seriously just gonna keep apologizing to me?"
You grinned. "Maybe. Unless, well, you'd let me treat you to lunch sometimes. Or dinner. Whatever works for you."
Spencer chuckled. "Deal. Just text me when and where, okay?"
You bid your goodbye and exited the SUV. Just before you could close the door, though, Spencer suddenly called out your name.
You bent down and peered inside the car. "Yes?"
Spencer assessed you in silence before looking away. "Nothing. Just... don't forget to brush your teeth."
"Brush my teeth? Who are you? My mom?"
Spencer waved you off when you started to laugh.
"Goodnight, Spencer," you said one last time, slamming the car door and heading towards the entrance of your building.
Spencer's heart stirred as he watched you walk away. "Goodnight, angel."
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possessmedude · 7 months
Text
Possessing Jake
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Jake was a tan, hot, and muscular 25 year old jock. He was the definition of sexy and manliness, and he knew it. Jake had chiseled 6 pack abs, huge pecs, and bulging biceps. While at the gym, Jake finished his rigorous workout and walked to the locker room confidently, proud of his day’s lift.
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As Jake stripped off his drenched clothes, he lifted his sweaty skin tight shirt to his nose and took a deep whiff. “Ahh the smell of a real man” he smirked. He continued to undress at his locker.
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Little did he know, a symbiote in the form of goo was watching him intently from the shadows. The goo was in need of a body and was looking for an alpha male worthy of being its host.
The goo crept closer, its amorphous form shifting and pulsating. The goo knew it would be better to have a willing host so it can make its new host it’s permanent vessel, so it had to convince him. Once it was behind Jake, the goo started growing and forming into the shape of a towering, muscular, and chiseled man. The goo remained made up completely of goo. The goo had a broad frame and bulging muscles that were even bigger than Jake’s. Between his legs, the goo sported a 10” cock and big balls.
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Jake finished removing his jock strap and turned around with eyes widened with excitement. He felt a mixture of feelings including confusion and excitement seeing the goo man. “Who the fuck are you?!” Jake asked. “I am looking for a host to contain my form, being a vessel for all my strength and power.” the Goo said, while puffing his chest and flexing his huge arms. Jake was eyeing up the goo’s impressive form, feeling small compared to him. He felt a sense of jealousy and admiration for the goo.
“Damn dude you’re huge. So you are looking to give a guy all your big muscles and strength?” he asked. “Yes, the host I bond with will get all of my body and more.” the goo told him. Jake looked at the goo man’s huge cock. Jake already had a big dick, but he was impressed by the girth and length of the goo’s.
The idea of possessing even more impressive muscles and having that cock added to his own thrilled Jake. The goo noticed Jake’s curiosity and stepped forward so he was right in front of him with the tips of their cocks touching. Jake reached out his hand and started touching the goo’s biceps, feeling the tone and definition. Jake pressed his body more against the goo’s and they both flexed together, rubbing their bodies and feeling each other’s. Jake ran his hands over the goo man's solid, glistening muscles, feeling the strength that radiated from them. Jake was getting hard at the idea and decided he wanted all the goo’s mass inside him and added to his body. He couldn’t stand the thought of the goo offering itself to another guy, he wanted it. It was as if the goo man's presence was igniting something primal in him, awakening desires he didn't even know he had.
“Give me your muscles," Jake whispered, a sense of power coursing through him. “You agree to let me bond with you?” the goo smiled. Jake took a step back and opened his arms wide and confidently declared “Take my body, it’s all yours”. The goo smirked and said “MY body”. The biggest smile formed on Jake’s face as he was bursting with anticipation for the goo’s mass to enter him. “Open wide” the goo commanded of his new vessel.
Jake opened his mouth and the goo started flowing into his body, filling out every part of him. He gasped as he sensed his muscles expanding, his body growing more powerful by the second. His legs instantly grew to thick proportions, Jake groaned as he felt the goo’s cock start sliding into his own, making it rock hard and a new huge 12”. The goo’s abs pushed against his own, turning them into a rock hard 8 pack. Next Jake’s pecs ballooned up to the biggest pecs he has ever seen. Jake looked at the mirror and saw the goo entering his body. He noticed how defined and muscular his body is growing to with the goo entering him. He couldn’t wait any longer and started gulping the goo down to help it enter its new host. His arms tripled in size as he felt the goo’s biceps sliding into his own, as if his body was being put on like a glove by an even more alpha male than himself. It made him so excited to be the vessel for such an alpha, manly mass.
The symbiote bonded with his muscular fibers, enhancing his already impressive physique. It was as if the goo was fulfilling Jake's deepest desires for strength and dominance, but also to be dominated. The goo finished entering Jake’s body and he was pushed back into his locker, with his back hitting it. He stretched his arms up and wide, feeling incredibly filled. He was captivated by the sensation of power under his fingertips, an anticipation building within him. Jake flexed his newfound muscles, admiring the raw power at his disposal. He raised his arm to his nose and took a deep whiff of his hairy armpit, relishing the stronger musky scent that emanated from his body. “Ahhh fuck yeah, I’m the ultimate alpha”. A cocky grin crossed his face as he reveled in his new, muscular form.
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The goo was still adjusting in his body and was now starting to move up his neck. Jake felt pressure in his neck moving upward and he started thinking about the goo taking full control of his body. He felt a mixture of awe and submission, a thrilling surrender to the symbiote's power. “Come on man, give me all of it! Make us the strongest man there is.” Jake shouted. Jake knew he was going to lose control of his body, but he was so excited for it. Any hesitation was gone, as he wanted to be dominated and watch his sexy, muscular body be controlled by the only man more of an alpha than him.
Jake's consciousness began to blur. He could feel himself slipping into the back seat of his own mind, while the goo man took over the driver's seat. A sense of euphoria washed over him as he realized that the goo had chosen his body over all the others in the gym. He reveled in the thought that the goo recognized his unparalleled masculinity.
Jake’s head stretched upward and then lowered back to normal, with a big sexy grin forming on his face. The goo was now fully in control of Jake’s body, with Jake being aware but only able to watch and feel his body, which felt incredible. As the goo man flexed Jake's newfound muscles, an overwhelming feeling of pride surged within Jake. The goo admired his reflection in the gym mirrors, his cocky grin a testament to the combination of both Jake and the goo’s cocky personnas. Jake relished the feeling of the goo coursing through his veins, controlling every movement, every breath.
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With newfound confidence, the goo man spoke through Jake's lips, his voice dripping with arrogance. "What a rush! Fuck, I am a stud inside you, Jake. Thanks for the body, bro.” he declared, his words laced with a blend of cockiness and satisfaction. Jake’s body had willingly welcomed and accepted the goo, allowing every part of their combined bodies to bond. The goo, mimicking Jake’s whiff of his manly armpit earlier, raised his new arm up and deeply inhaled his other hairy pit. It now had an even stronger and muskier smell. “It’s cause I’m the alpha now, with two of us inside together.” the goo said. The goo continued to inspect his new rock hard physical body, touching and caressing every crevice like him and Jake were doing before. He felt his huge cock and shuttered at the ecstasy, massaging it.
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After admiring his reflection, the goo man's attention turned toward the showers. He strode confidently toward the tiled room, his enhanced body glistening with a fine sheen of sweat. The powerful water jets cascaded over him, washing away the grime of the workout. Jake's body moved with a fluid grace, every movement a testament to the symbiote's control.
In the showers, the goo man ran his hands over his new body, relishing in the sensation of every contour, every ripple of muscle. His touch was exploratory, appreciative of the masterpiece he now possessed. As steam billowed around him, the goo man reveled in the musky scent of manliness that enveloped the space.
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Jake's mind lingered in the background, an observer to the sensations and experiences that the goo man was indulging in. He had become a vessel for the goo's dominance, his former self now intertwined with the confidence and swagger of the goo man's persona.
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Thanks for reading! This was my first ever story I wrote, I hope you enjoyed and let me know what you think!
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leo-muscle · 3 months
Text
Kings of the World: Europe's Protector
Dominic, for the most part, was what the gay community would consider average. He had some mass to him, though not much, and his junk was fairly average. He had light body hair and a short beard, though not enough to be considered an otter. Almost no one swiped him on any dating app, which did leave him feeling dejected. He was a top, though all of his few matches pegged him as a submissive bottom. Though, someday, he hoped that he would gain the strength he desired.
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Alone in his apartment, Dominic was doomscrolling through Instagram, crying over pictures of happy men in love. It had been so long since his last hookup, let alone his last boyfriend, that he had become incredibly touch-starved. London's pool of gay men had been incredibly unkind to him.
KLUNK.
A single notification rang from Dominic's phone. A match! Dominic dove to his phone, and couldn't believe his eyes. An absolute stud of a man had decided to give Dominic his approval. His pecs and ass were perky and voluptuous, his dark skin accented his enormous muscles perfectly, and judging by his bulge, he was more hung than every other man Dominic had seen, combined. The crystal crown on his head, while a little tacky, only added to his allure. According to his profile, he was "King Leon."
That sure is a King of a man, all right. Dominic thought.
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Soon, they began to chat.
King_Leon: Hey. I think you might have exactly what I'm looking for. Meet me at my place?
DomDom74: Absolutely! I'm on my way!
Dominic dashed to his car, and drove as fast as he could over to where King Leon said his address was. It was a tall apartment building, with an impressive view over Buckingham Palace.
King_Leon: Head to the Penthouse. I'll be waiting ;)
Not only is he immeasureably hot, but he's also rich? Dominic thought. This could not be going better.
Dominic sauntered up to the elevator, and hit the button for the Penthouse suite.
"Dom?" King Leon's Nigerian accent entered Dominic's ears like butter from the intercom. It was smoky and rhythmic, with a deep, rich melody that caused Dominic's cock to instantly harden.
"Y-yes?" Dominic stammered. He was already flustered, and he hadn't even met the man yet.
"I'm glad to see you could make it. I'll let you on up now." King Leon said.
Soon, the elevator opened into a lavish Penthouse suite, each room the size of Dominic's entire apartment. Relics and statues from every corner of the globe accented the space, though most were from Africa, where King Leon's throne resided.
King Leon himself was standing in the middle of the room, wearing nothing but a small towel. He was even hotter in person. His muscles, divine, his skin, glistening, his ass, superb, his incredible height and his enormous cock visible even through the towel.
"Dominic, it is so good to have you here." King Leon rumbled, his voice flowing over Dominic like a river, wearing down his inhibitions.
"S-same." Dominic stuttered. "You have to be the most beautiful man I have ever seen."
King Leon laughed. "Soon, you will be just as beautiful as I."
"What do you mean?" Dominic said.
King Leon smiled, and let the towel drop as he turned around, revealing his luscious, bouncy muscle ass.
"Why don't you come find out?" King Leon teased.
Salivating, Dominic ripped off his pants, and stuck his throbbing member into King Leon's hole. The sensation was unlike anything he had ever felt: King Leon's perfect ass seemed to be vibrating and massaging every square millimeter of his dick, creating pleasure unlike anything he had ever felt. Dominic's eyes rolled back into his skull as he lost himself in the pleasure, firing orgasm after orgasm into King Leon's ass, each one longer than the last. A gold fluid began to leak from King Leon's hole as the most orgasmic experience of Dominic's life finally came to a close.
As he removed his pulsing member from the King's hole, Dominic almost screamed. His cock was... different.
It had swollen up like a balloon, until it matched King Leon's size, inch for inch, a full foot in length and as thick as a beer bottle. His balls had turned into massive grapefruits swinging between his legs, churning with his own kingly fluids. Most surprising of all, his cock was pale, with a red tip, surrounded by a fiery orange bush. No longer was it a brown twig, but a mighty birchwood weapon, capable of slaying any ass.
"Wha... what?" Dominic asked.
"A king needs a weapon, does he not?" King Leon said.
"How? Why? Why did you change me?"
"I saw greatness in you, Dominic. You could be the protector of this whole continent, if you wished. A king, a warrior, a protector... the most powerful Dom in this land."
Dominic considered this. Power, prestige, strength... The choice was obvious.
"I'll do it. Where do I start?" Dominic answered.
"Only a moment of submission, for a lifetime of lordship. Impale yourself upon my sword, and drink of my fluids." King Leon said, his voice having a playful air to it.
King Leon sat down upon a wide loveseat, his enormous Black horsecock reaching far past his abs. His pecs throbbed, and his nipples called to Dominic, just begging to be sucked.
Trancelike, Dominic walked over to King Leon, and lowered himself onto his cock.
It was like paradise: There was no blockage, no pain, just pure pleasure His cock filled up Dominic perfectly, despite its egregious size. Dominic's mouth latched onto King Leon's perfect dark nipple as the King began to slowly thrust.
Soon, the King's fluids took effect. As King Leon pumped load after load of kingly fluid into Dominic, his muscles expanded. His biceps, wrapped around one of King Leon's enormous arms, suddenly blew up to match the guns they worshipped. His hands, once small and insignificant, became enormous mitts, digging and massaging King Leon's equally huge arms. His back and lats wrenched themselves apart, creating a sea of perfect ridges. His abs repeatedly clenched and unclenched, growing stronger each time, until the eight blocks that made up his core were as solid as stone. His legs, once skinny, became almighty pillars of strength as they expanded to well over the size of tree trunks. His feet did the same, becoming bigger and wider, to support the royal mass they carried.
The more fluid Leon pumped, the lighter Dominic's skin became, until it settled on a lightly-tanned cream color. His hair became a fiery red, his beard changing to match. His brow narrowed, and his jaw became square. His voice deepened, and took on an Irish accent as he started gyrating his ass to properly milk King Leon's dick.
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"Yeh, you like that, don't you?" Dom said, in between chugs from King Leon's chest.
"Oh, I do... Daddy." King Leon said with a smirk. While he normally preferred to be the dominant one, for his fellow King, he would make a rare exception.
"My arse is going to milk your cock like you wouldn't believe." Dom said. With each slam of his ass on King Leon's mammoth dick, it bounced and expanded just a little more, until it became an enormous Irish booty, leaking an emerald fluid, which mixed with King Leon's golden fluid perfectly.
"Now, I want you to suck my pecs like your life depends on it." Dom ordered.
"Anything for you, Daddy." King Leon placed his soft, supple lips on Dom's left nipple, as Dom moaned with pleasure. His chest began to puff up, going from muscular, to voluptouous, to absolutely obscene. His massive muscle tits were just as large as King Leon's!
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Soon, Dom wrapped his arms around King Leon, and tried to wrestle him to the floor. King Leon obliged, and pulled Dom close, pressing their sensitive muscle tits together, releasing a moan from both behemoths. Dom continued to grow in height until he matched King Leon while they rolled on top of each other, each man fighting for dominance. Dom pressed his face firmly against King Leon's, locking him in a passionate kiss. They wrestled and fought and loved for hours, until the pleasure finally became too much for the both of them, and they came from all orifices at once. King Dom's transformation had completed.
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Both Kings laid there, exhausted. Soon, there would be more of them, and they could lead the world into a brighter age
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neonovember · 10 months
Note
Hello! I hope you’ve been doing okay! I saw that you had requests open and I also saw that you take requests for Carmen? If it’s totally okay of course to request for him! I got into the bear a few days ago and my brain has been filled with nothing but thoughts of Carmy. Would it be okay just requesting something that’s just Carmen being worried/concerned about the reader? He just always sees whenever there’s that tiredness to them when it looks like it’s a bad day, that slump in their shoulders that all too much reminds him of him a little sometimes, just bringing them into the office and his eyebrows are furrowed with that look of concern and his eyes the same, maybe unexpectedly just wrapping them in a hug (Your writing is so cute btw!) 💕
to carry and to bear
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ask, it will be my infinite quest to fulfill! love this request so much and i loved writing is even more. i'm going to be so annoying when s2 comes out, especially since i love carmen's character so much! thank you for your request anon &lt;3
carmen berzatto x reader
warnings: richie (yes he’s a warning), unresolved anxiety, horrible customers, fainting
word count: 5k (short for me lmao)
a/n: you know i love a character when i'm completing fics in under a day..lets pray this momentum keeps going
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Wrapping yourself tight against the chilly wind of the unforgivable Chicago weather, you watch the city coming alive in the early morning as you walk down the concrete sidewalk of the Beef’s city corner.
Merchants and gazebo have begun to set up shop, their bright red vendor stands a stark contrast to the grey haze of the windy city. Corner stores and cafes have begun to uncover their blinds, dusting away the sliver of droplets that had long since evaporated after a heavy downpour the night before.
it’s slow though.
The mass of cars and yellow cabbed taxis haven’t yet filled the gravel roads, and the surging rush of traffic and uncontrollable road rage the beef windows have been accustomed to viewing hasn't filled the air.
The pinch of cold begins to itch against the cracks in your outerwear. Your trusted winter jacket and gloves had been left at the bottom of your laundry basket and instead you were forced to throw on a flimsy polyester jacket that provided absolutely no warmth. 
Your fingers are stuffed into your pocket, trying to hide them from the cold but it is no use. They shake against the freezing air of wind as you push past huddles of men chain smoking and passing coolers of steaming coffee on street corners.
You’re about to go ask for a cup, despite Carmen's disgruntled comments of their huddled group festering near the restaurant. They were a pack of wolves, and whilst Sydney's sandwiches had fended them off for a while, the hole in the Beef’s window was still fresh. Like a cycle, more and more had begun to trickle in from alleyways, leading to customers steering clear from the nearby streets. 
Carmen didn’t even like you walking to work this early, you get it, despite being daylight, Chicago had a way of defying social norms. You had paid some attention to the increase in robbing and attacks that had begun to frequent news reports.
It wouldn't have been a problem, walking was always voluntary for you as you had a perfectly fine working car that would drive you to and from your destination with as little as a rumble from its engine. And yet, that seemingly perfect car decided to break down on you this morning, leading to an overheated engine and a smoke filled hood.
So not only did you have to pay for a towing truck to drag away your car to an auto shop you couldn't afford to afford, but you were late. And you hated being late.
Not to mention your sister had called you late last night, asking to stay for a couple nights after her good for nothing boy-friend you would rather call a child had kicked her out after a fight.
She had rambled for nothing short of 2 hours after you had gotten home from the Beef late last night, and the pull of sleep had begun to weigh on you. The exhaustion and deprivation had written itself in the slug of your limbs and the slump of your shoulders.
You had to come in today, there were no rest days even if the Beef wasn't neck deep in debt and Cicero didn't have you all on a leash. Especially if you wouldn't allow yourself one. You had that in common with Carmen, you frequently ignored your own needs for your craft, the same insatiable passion and need for perfection driving you to exhaustion. 
The familiar chime of the Beefs wooden doors hit your ears, and you shake off the cold of the city streets, the Beef is warm and you're grateful, sighing as the heat of prepped ovens and oiled pans defrosts your face. 
It takes a second before you walk into the busy kitchen when the sound finally reaches you. The screeching sound of Richie's voice bickers with Tina about the next door convenient store being turned into a “pretentious hipster coffee shop that is legally selling dog water to unassuming Chicagoans”.
Dragging on and on about the invasion of gentrification that will soon take out all the good businesses that had been around since his grandfather had come from Sicily. Richie was not from Siciliy. In which Carmen mirrors your thoughts and yells that he is not Italian, and his obsession with the European country has been bordering on creepy.
Ebra is reciting an article about a culinary student that had gone rogue and murdered their entire class, giving pointers on how he himself had to patch up an entire unit of people stabbed by a bent corkscrew. The loud conversations and untethered yelling across the kitchen combines with the malfunctioning arcade that has begun to re-circuit the same sentence for 20 minutes now, digs a deep burrow into your temple.
You stand at the entrance of the kitchen, watching the commotion of early morning prep with a tight grimace, your head begins to vibrate a little, the start of a headache you won’t be relieved from spreading and you have to swallow down the exhaustion that begins to seep in at the sight. 
Sydney brushes past you, greeting you with a hello and one of her charming smiles before muttering about throwing that arcade machine out the back. You giggle and it hurts, but you do it anyway because, fuck, you would help her.
You step into the kitchen, and the crew each turn to greet you good morning as you walk past them into the locker bay stuffing your bag and shoes into the cabinet before quickly changing. 
Your phone reads 7am and you stuff it into the pocket of your hung jacket before slamming the locker shut. Carmen peeks his head around the corner, nodding at you as you put on your non-slip shoes, calling your name when you don't notice, you flinch before peering up and Carmen waves trying to get your attention.
“Mornin’ chef, didn’t think you were coming in” Carmen remarks, raising his eyebrows as he leans his shoulder against the wall. 
“Morning, yeah, sorry about that, uh- shit happened and I had to deal with it all at once. Won;t happen again” You reply, biting back a yawn, before letting your feet fall to the ground.
“It’s all good,” Carmen replies, nodding, wiping his hand on the white towel hanging on his shoulder that was already smudged with stains.
“Just shoot me a text or call next time, yeah?” Carmen replies 
“Will do chef” You reply, smiling, before peering out to see Sydney carrying a basket of  ingredients
“New recipe?” You ask, nodding towards Sydney, and Carmen nods, running a hand through his curls as he leans forward.
“Well call it trying something. Not yet finished, just needs some minor tweaks here and there” Carmen replies
“I can help Sydney out if you want?” You reply without a second thought.
You already had prep and a marinade you had to make for Cicero’s function he had conveniently told Carmen about the night before, but helping out was second nature to you, it was a part of this family's culture.
Carmen shakes his head, his eyes falling to your slumped shoulder, and the slow but tight blinks you tended to do when you were exhausted.
The second he had peered his head around the corner and saw the slug of your limbs he knew something was up, but he also knew he couldn't force you to relax, you were worse than him, always taking on so much, filling up your cup until it was overflowing.
“No, no, it’s alright, besides, that marinade isn’t going to be easy, I should be asking if you want me to help out” Carmen replies, chuckling, scratching his neck as you curve your mouth into that smile he loves so much. You could be half-dead and he still stares at you like you were the most gorgeous thing he's ever seen.
“I think I’ve got it handled. I remember having to make something similar back at Le Bleu, you just got to get the temperature right or the entire thing gets spoiled. Having more than one person just makes it more confusing. besides, don't you have that meeting with the vendor today?” You reply, and Carmen sighs, nodding
“Yep, hopefully this place looks stable enough to get him to sign, you know I can’t deal with corporate bullshit. Sydney should’ve met up with them, fuck any one other than me” Carmen replies, shaking his head as he fidgets with the hem of his apron.
Despite his numerous accolades, and world renowned talent, he only ever felt at nature in the kitchen. High function parties and elusive dinner bars were things he despised, feeling out of place despite it being thrown in his name.
“Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself, you're the face of this place Carmen, you’ve transformed it, you oughta show them the Beef is the best investment they’ll make. Hell you’re the best investment they can make” You reply, and Carmen ears perk at your reply, smiling fondly at your comment. He didn't deserve your praise, and he hated the way the sound of your lips curving around his name shoots through him.
“Are y'all going to get to work or continue eye fucking?” Richie calls, as he passes by the locker bay, and Carmen immediately shakes his head muttering a fuck you before nodding to you, and heading back to his station. You get up from your seated position on the bench, dusting and ironing out the creases in your apron before mentally going over the things you had to complete before opening.
Prep vegetables, then start the veal stock for Cicero's marinade. You had to complete it early, since it had to be chilled for at least 5 hours, any less and the fat would congeal and turn into a complete mess you didn’t have time to fix.
You walk towards your station, stepping over sauce that had spilled onto the tile floors, this crew was amazing in their craft, but god were they messy. You bump shoulders with Sydney as you begin to grate and cut root vegetables and herbs, you have to force your eyes open, blinking several times before dipping your hand into an ice water bucket and wiping your face with it.
Sydney converses with you, and it wasn't that she was boring, in fact you both frequently spend time even out of the restaurant as friends. But you can’t even try to decipher what she says, just sounds coming out of her mouth that you pack away in order to get your job done. 
Just cut the vegetables, finish the stock, cut the vegetables, finish the stock, you repeat it like a mantra in your head, unaware at Sydney calling your name. She reaches forward, pressing a soft hand to your shoulder to get your attention.
“Hey, did you hear me?” Sydney replies, concern written across her features as she peers at your disoriented state.
“Huh? Sorry, what did you say?” You reply, avoiding her gaze. You feel her penetrate through you, pitying the exhaustion on your face, probably realising you were a shit chef who couldn't even handle a couple responsibilities.
“I was asking if you could grab me some of the sauce I made yesterday from the storage fridge. You alright? You seem a bit..” Sydney starts, before you cut her off quickly
“Just had a long night, didn't get much sleep” You reply, rubbing your eyes with a hand. What has gotten into you? You weren't foreign to a few sleepless nights and a few too many deadlines you had to meet, hell your entire college and culinary life had been exactly that.
“That’ll kill you, you know” Richie butts in, reaching for a crab cake Sydney had prepared before being swatted away with a wooden spoon.
“What?” You ask, already regretting asking Richie to elaborate on what was clearly some elaborated story he had got stored away
“Go without that good old shut eye a few nights too long and you'll start hallucinating shit, not fucking with you you, don’t you know about the Russian sleep experiment-?” Richie rambles
“Ah here we go” Sydney replies, rolling her eyes 
“You think because you went to Paris or whatever prestigious tight ass school you know everything? It’s real, happened right after World War 2, Russians got a bunch of people and just made them not sleep for like months, they starting turning into fuckin' aliens and shit-” Richie continues, ignoring Sydney's sly remarks about Richie's facebook usage.
“Richie c’mon, you know that shits made up” You reply
“Don’t matter, didn’t I tell you about my week long bender during college? Starting seeing my great aunt from the corner of my eye, and I swear she is still there-” Richie replies before getting cut off my Carmen calling his name
“Stop distracting my chefs Cousin” 
You chuckle, shaking your head as Richie mutters about the fall of democracy and wipe your hands across your towel.
“I’ll go get your sauce Syd” You reply, and she smiles in gratitude as you turn towards the storage room. The cold air of the fridge wakes you up a little, and you rest your head against the door of the storage fridge, sighing in frustration. Talking to Richie was exhausting in itself, and when you were already running only fumes and second hand smoke you felt like it took the last bit of energy you had left.
You grab the container of sauce written with “DO NOT TOUCH” on its front, it's wrapped in cling film, with no lid and you're careful not to drop it everywhere. It wasn’t heavy, per se, just filled to the brim and without careful steps it was close to tipping out. You walk out of the storage room carefully, before turning towards your station.
“Corner!” You yell, twisting around the corner of the kitchen, before you slam straight into a tall body, jerking back and inadvertently spilling the sauce all across the kitchen floor and onto your shoes. You feel it sink into your socks and drip down your apron, eye twitching in frustration as Marcus starts apologising profusely, you ignore him, dropping down to your knees and reaching for paper towels. You start wiping away the sauce, as Marcus drops down to your level and tries to help, you shake our head looking up at him.
“Stop, Marcus, just stop. I can do it” You reply
“But-” Marcus protests
“We don't need two chefs to clean up a one person job, alright? You need to finish prep” You reply, letting the towels soak up the sauce. You grieve for Sydney, not all of it had spilt, but a quarter of a container wasn’t enough to get through the morning rush, let alone the entire day.
You ignore the spilt sauce all over your clothes, you didn’t have time to change now, rushing back to your station before telling Sydney about the spill
“You serious? I thought I could leave early today, got a friend's birthday” Sydney replies, pinching the bridge of her nose.
You instantly feel guilty, you should've been more careful, and now Sydney would have to pay for it.
“Hey, I got it, let me take that new recipe off your plate. That gives you enough time to get to the party?” You reply
Sydney looks up, rising her eyebrows “No, no I couldn’t possibly ask you to” 
“Nonsense, I owe you anyway, remember when I had to leave halfway through the morning to get my sister?” You reply, with a tired smile before Sydney wraps her arms around you, you rub a hand across her back. You can’t really feel her arms around you, it’s like all your senses are delayed, you ignore it as you get back to work, now with another task on your plate.
You finish chopping the vegetables after a short while, usually you were the fastest in the house, but today you lagged behind, finally carrying the vegetables to Carmen who looked at you strange, his eyes staring through you, he swallowed like he was going to say something as you walked away, before stopping and continuing stirring the stock on the stove
By the time the Beef opens, you're still elbow deep in work, you've stayed silent most of the time, waving off Marcus’s apology and instead working, not stopping since you started. You skipped breakfast, and you hadn't gotten a chance to eat, and just when you're about to make yourself something, Richie calls your name from the front counter.
You walk towards the front of the Beef, wiping stains on your apron to look a little presentable to the outside world. Richie stands at the register, flicking a pen in his hand, a look of annoyance on his face.
“What's up?” You ask Richie, as a tall man dressed down in a polo sweater and khakis stares down at you in anger. He’s familiar, someone you had served when Richie had to take his smoke break, and he scrutinises you as you smile at him.
That’s the only way you could communicate with these people, any hint of anger and you’d be written of as angry and unable to control your emotions, you lost your last job because you defended yourself anyway.
“This guy said he came in and you made him something he apparently didn't like, but finished anyway” Richie replies, a knowing look passes between you both and you sigh, you don't have time for this. 
“Morning Sir, May I ask what’s the problem” You ask politely
“You suggested to me a dish from the menu, alright, YOU, not me, so don't go blaming me for this, and look what I got, not only does it have nuts, which i hate, it's spicy. Way too spicy, I want a refund, NOW” The man replies, seething, his yelling catches the attention of other patrons, and Richie begins to reach under the table for a bat.
“Well, you finished it all so I don’t know what you-” You begin before the man cuts you off loudly
“Do you think I give a shift what you think? Huh? Jesus fucking Christ, see you just need to do what I fucking say, not argue. Give me a refund before I get you fired from this shit hole you dumb stupid-” The man yells, loudly before Carmen's booming voice cuts him off
“I wouldn't finish that sentence if I were you” Carmen replies, clenching his jaw in way that told you he was trying to hold back the rage from spilling out
“Who the fuck are you?” The man asks
“I own this shit hole you piece of shit, and if you don't get the fuck out of my restaurant I'm going to break every single bone in your face with my bare hands". 
“Excuse me?”
Carmen laughs, shaking his head before smiling at the man
“I told you”
Carmen drags the man by his collar, throwing him onto the sidewalk and dragging his body to the alleyway, you fear what he is going to do and Richie raises his eyebrows in astonishment.
“Well shit cousin, you ain't a pussy after all” Richie mutters under his breath
You can faintly hear the sound of splitting skin and the crack of bone, before Carmen storms back into the restaurant, eyeing all the patrons who are following his every move.
“Y'all got that? Anyone mess with my people hear and your walk out on a fucking stretcher” Carmen replies still seething with anger, before Richie claps loudly as Carmen walks back behind the desk.
“Call a fucking ambulance” Carmen replies, rolling his eyes at Richie before he walks towards you, the the tension immediately leaving him as he find your safe and away from that man.
“You alright? He didn't hurt you or anything?” Carmen asks in concern, his eyes darting across your body to see any imagined injuries
“It seems you should be asking him that question” You reply, nudging towards the alley of the Bear, chuckling as you shake your head.
“You didn't have to do that you know, iIcould have-” You start
Carmen looks down at you in concern, shaking his head as he places his hand on you shoulder
“Could've what? He was screaming in your face and I wasn't about to let him think that shit was okay, god, how could you not react?” Carmen replies, looking down at you in concern, shaking his head as he places a hand on your shoulder.
“I’m just so busy, I still- Fuck, i still got to get Cicero's marinade in the fridge, and i need to start on Syd’s broth” You mutter pressing your fingertips to your temples.
“What? You’re doing Sydney’s load as well? Hey, you need to sit down a second” Carmen replies, as you begin to walk back towards the kitchen, with Carmen hot on your heels, asking you to stop and turn to him.
You hear him call your name, but the mountain of tasks that were now even later due to that customer had begun to seize your consciousness.
All you could focus on was the dishes you needed to make and the pain in your temples that had begun to spread down, your vision getting fuzzy around the edges as you try and shake yourself awake.
“Dammit, listen to me! Stop cutting fucking vegetables and listen to me” Carmen yells at you for the first time, twisting your body to face him and you spit out in anger
“What?!” 
“What’s gotten into you today?” Carmen replies, yelling
And you don't know why, but that question breaks something in you, and you can't help but let out a short chuckle. Carmen looks down at you in horror, trying to reach for you, to catch you when the inevitable happens and you look at him once before it does.
Before your vision begins to blur and the edges begin to burn like a flame, you try and catch yourself, but it’s too late and you fall into Carmen's arms, wrapped up against his chest as you crash.
Carmen gathers you in his arms, his heart breaking beneath his breasts, holding his sweet girl in his arms as the streams of tears dampen his shirt. The rest of the crew watch on in concern, and Carmen shoes them away as he carries your unconscious body to the office.
“What the fuck Cousin?” Richie calls
“Hey, hey, is she alright? What -what happened?” Sydney replies in horror as she watches Carmen carry you from the kitchen. 
“What happened was, ya'll did fuck all when she was practically breaking down trying to finish everyone else's fucking mess. What happened? Are you fucking serious? If i wasn't there, she would’ve fainted into a burning skillet of your fucking vegetables Sydney” Carmen replies, shaking his head, the entire crew goes silent, the only sounds coming from the beeps of ovens and stove tops, and the sizzling of burning food.
Carmen goes quiet, as he assesses your state, there is something unwritten in the way he holds you, and he blinks tight, his face twitching a little as if he had to make sure you were in his arms, the only place he wanted you to be.
“Get back to work” Carmen replies, quietly, a stark contrast to his rage from before, the crew has never seen him like this, his eyes and focus on you, as if he has been seized by this responsibility and dying need to protect you. He can hardly breathe, his arms shaking as he stares down at your sullen and tired face.
“We need-” Marcus starts before Carmen shakes his head
“No, no, enough. Sydney will hold down the fort, this is my responsibility. Get. back to work.” Carmen replies
—-
Carmen wastes no time to gently place your body onto the scuffed office couch, pressing a hand to your head, before reaching for an ice cold container of water, dipping a towel into it before gently pressing it to your forehead.
Carmen shakes his head in anger, he should've seen this coming, he should've noticed from the slump of your shoulder and your one word answers that you were stretching yourself too thin.
Carmen tortures himself as he replays the moments before you fainted into his arms. The way your features twisted into a sob, and the lasts shred of resolve snapped, and you had reached for him, you had reached for him.
You had reached for Carmen when you fell, and something in him broke when he had caught you.
Carmen had been used to his own self-destruction, but as he rested his thumb, rubbing circles and wiping away the tears on your face, he wished himself to change, not just for him, but for you. How could he? How could you be such a poor example to you? This was his own fault, and the reality of that conclusion twists like a knife to his gut.
His sweet girl, his Sunshine, who had thought the needs of this goddamn sandwich shop was more important than her own. You begin to stir in his arms, and the tension and shake of his arms begins to release as you wake up, Carmen eases you into consciousness when you begin to panic.
“Hey hey, I’m right here, you're okay, you're okay” Carmen replies softly, and you squeeze your eyes tightly, trying to understand what had happened and why you felt like your body was filled with lead.
"What, what happened” You reply, looking across the location of the office.
“You fainted, and I carried you to the office because you are not going back into that kitchen” Carmen replies, sitting up from his slumped position.
You stay quiet,  confusion lacing your features as you shake your head. You fainted? How did that even happen? You had never fainted in your entire life.
Carmen peers at you, his eyes dancing across your face as your silence frightens him, he wouldn't even recognise you, your usual bubbly, and incredibly chirpy self was not replaced by someone who was so exhausted they couldn’t stay conscious.
“You gotta talk to me baby girl, please, look at me, you can tell me, you can tell me anything” Carmen replies, softly, caressing your hand with his thumb when it begins to shake.
You look up at him, his expression of worry and concern causing your features to twist,
“I um, I’m just a little tired” You reply, the beginning of tears choking you, causing your words to rush out as  you try to stop yourself but it is fruitless, and Carmen eyebrows kind of pinch, he kind of frowns a little as he looks at you in that way.
It's all it takes before you sob, and sink into the coach. Carmen gathers you once again in his arms, and scoops your legs so that they lay across his thighs, and your head rests against his collarbone.
“I know baby, I know, I’m sorry, Oh honey I am so sorry” Carmen replies, rubbing your back as you let the last of your resolve sink into his chest, the cry of your tears leaving you speechless.
You can’t stop crying, the cup spilling over and making a big whole mess, snot and tears and heartache and exhaustion dirties Carmen's chef whites and you can't help but grip onto him like he is the only thing tethering you to Earth.
You don’t have to tell Carmen then, he knew the second you walked in, and he knows now when you hold him. There's a certain grief Carmen feels when he looks at you and sees himself, and in a way this is for Carmen too.
You sit like this for a while, you and Carmen. Wrapped in his arms as you lay across his lap, long after the tears had run dry, where you are left with hiccups and the soothing touch of Carmen's hand across your back.
It feels like you two are the only people on earth. Everything is Carmen; its all you smell, all you feel against your skin, all you hear as he whispers into you ear. No one dares to step into the office doors, even when an hour ticks by, even when the trickle of customers turns into a downpour and the orders never end, the family knows that you need this, that your health was better than money, or happy customers and fuck all.
Even after you have cried your eyes out, the responsibility of work begins to weigh on your body, you still had so much to do with so little time
“But the marinade, and- and Sydney's” You begin before Carmen cuts you off with a soft squeeze.
“Richie’ll handle it, and if he doesn't Cicero can go fuck himself. You really think I’m going to let that override you right now? Just forget about the kitchen alright, can you do that for me, pretty girl?” Carmen replies
You nod, the burden that had exhausted you to sickness lifted from your shoulders. You look towards the clock and realise the vendors were coming soon to meet with Carmen, something he couldn’t miss.
“The vendors, aren't they-”
“They came in 3 hours early, it's why it took me so long to get to you when that asshole was throwing a fit” Carmen replies, knowing what you were asking for.
You peek at him in question “Well?”
“They signed.” Carmen replies, rolling eyes and smiling at your delighted squeal
“What did I tell you? Carmen Berzatto is more than-” You start before a yawn stretches through you.
“Alright, alright, enough talking from you. When’s the last time you ate?” Carmen asks
You stop and scratch your head, trying to think and you laugh a little when you can’t remember.
“I don't know” You reply
Carmen’s eye twitches, and he smiles down at you before easing you off his thighs and onto the coach. 
“What- what are you doing?” You ask, not even trying to hide the sadness in your voice. You already miss the heat of his chest warm against your cheek.
Carmen smiles softly as he looks down at you, threaded a hand through his head as he wipes down the creases on his apron.
“I’m making you something”
“What? No it’s- it’s okay I’ll eat at family” You reply, reaching a hand out to him
Carmen reaches for your palm, pressing a soft kiss on your the skin of your knuckles before reaching down to kiss the top of your head.
“No you need to eat now, alright? You're going to sleep the rest of the day, and then, and then, you're coming back to my place so I can keep an eye on you. You gonna listen to me or protest?” Carmen replies, eyebrow raised as he crosses his arms. His voice drops down an octane, like it was a command, and you have to bite back the desire floating in your stomach at the way he looks down with his eyes all heavy from above. 
“Okay, alright, whatever you say Chef” You reply with a smile, and Carmen sinks his teeth into his bottom lip when you say it like that.
“Just wait a sec” Carmen replies, and as he is about to leave you call for him again
“What are you even making, half the ingredients are gone” 
“It’s no problem, it’s your recipe anyway” Carmen replies, with a hint of a smile on his face before he leaves the room. It takes you a while, half because you're exhausted and the other half because you're hungry before the realisation hits you that he's made a recipe for you, about you. 
You can't help the smile that stretches across your face, goddamnit Carmen Berzatto, and you say you aren't a romantic.
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