#The man needs therapy but like fuck is he gonna do that

[wehangout]

kiss prompt: Gallavich and 36 :)

Send me a number and I’ll write a gallavich kiss 👄

36. - - to give up control (you know what episode could have had some really beautiful ian and mickey moments and didn't because fuck the writers? this one)

It plays on your mind while Lip and Debbie bitch about selling the house, while Debbie makes shitty assumptions about gay guys, while you stand with a cup of coffee in each hand because Mickey's upstairs crying over his shitty, dead dad.

And it's really fucking hard. It's hard to sympathise and it's hard to actually give a fuck, because it's Terry. It's fucking Terry, and you don't know why Mickey's crying or why he gives a shit, and you genuinely believe him when he says he doesn't know either.

So you pour him a cup of coffee and head back upstairs.

He's dressed, shoving things into his pockets before sitting down and grabbing his boots.

"Got you a coffee."

He doesn't look up. "Thanks."

You place it on the nightstand and watch him do up his boots, hands and fingers moving quickly. "Goin' somewhere?"

"Next door."

You know the face you make is mixture of confused, disgusted, and outright exasperated. "Why?"

"Someone's gotta sort out that shit," he says, not looking at you. "No one else is gonna do it."

"Doesn't mean you have to."

"Kinda does." He sits up straight and rubs his hands over his thighs. "No one else gives a shit. Not sure I do, either, but ..."

"But?"

"Dunno." He glances at you out of the corner of his eye and then says it again. "Don't fuckin' know."

He stands and moves to go, and you stupidly let him get all the way to the door before stopping him.

"Wait a minute. I'll come."

"Ain't got time for your bullshit right now, Gallagher."

And it's his tone and his words and the way he won't meet your gaze that makes you realise ... well, everything.

"I'm sorry," you say. He shrugs, and you push on. "No, I am. If there's one thing the mandated therapy in prison taught me it's that my feelings are valid, and so are yours."

He snorts. "Yeah, okay, Dr. Phil."

You place your own coffee cup down and walk towards him. "I don't get it, okay? Terry was a piece of shit who fucked us up too many times to count, who hurt you in ... in a lot of ways."

His jaw clenches at your words that say everything all while saying nothing, but you soldier on. You reach out and tangle your fingers with his.

"I don't understand why you're upset about him being dead, but I do know what it's like to be the only one who gives a shit." You tug this hand until he looks up, meets your gaze. "Someone died and you have a lot of fucked-up feelings that no one else feels and ... I get that. Okay? I understand that."

He tongues at his cheek, and then, "Monica?"

You shrug and nod, but don't say anything else about it. This isn't about Monica and it's not about you. It's about Mickey, and you don't need to understand what he's feeling or why he's feeling it. You just need to be there for him.

He sniffs. "I gotta head next door."

"Let me come."

"You don't have to, man -"

"I want to." You squeeze his hand. "I want to help you. Let me help you."

"Ian -"

"You don't have to do this alone, Mick."

He looks at you and nods, just once, real quick. "Okay."

"Okay."

He searches your eyes for a moment, then leans up and gives you a quick kiss. "Thanks."

You smile. Kiss his forehead. Let him lead the way.

[scrivellc]

Dental Records

Timeline of a "Semi-Sadist"

Birth to Age 9:

Orin was born in upstate New York to Alan Scrivello and Dorothy Byrne. From the beginning his parents' relationship was a tumultuous one with his father being abusive to both his mother and Orin himself. Around 9 was when Orin's sadistic tendencies started to manifest, likely as a means of acting out in response to his trauma. This along with undeniable bruises was what finally made his mother decide to finally leave Alan, taking her son with her.

Age 9 to 14:

Now living exclusively with his mother, Orin remembers these as some of the best years of his life. However, his sadistic tendencies didn't fully go away, and his mother did her best to focus this particular energy into more "productive activities". This worked relatively well, though Orin continued to be a rebellious and unevenly tempered child.

Orin performed well in school but upon entering high school started to experiment with drugs, though nothing super serious. Mostly just smoking pot under the bleachers and such. Unknown to him his mother was sick, hiding her illness from her son in hopes of avoiding setting off anymore...unusual trauma responses in him or disrupting what she assumed was a tenuous grip on academic success.

Age 15:

Despite her best efforts, Dorothy's illness progressed to the point that she could no longer hide it from Orin, and as she deteriorated he became her primary caregiver. Later that year she died, and Orin was made to go back to living with his father.

Age 15-17:

Now back with his father, the abuse starts up again, though it leans more toward verbal and emotional now that Orin is old enough /big enough to fight back when his father tries anything. Early on in this arrangement Orin begins to self harm, turning his focus inward and on hurting himself, but it doesn't take long for him to fall back hard into his sadistic habits, wires crossing now with puberty. His drug use becomes less casual and more as a means of self medicating away the stress of his home life.

While his grades suffer during this time, he did manage to keep them high enough to get into college.

Age 18:

He kept his college acceptance from his father until one day his father found it in his room and confronted him about it. The confrontation became physical as his father tried to forbid Orin from moving away from home to pursue further education. The altercation resulted in Orin being badly injured and his father knocked unconscious. Orin quickly packed up what he could and left home for good. Going to the hospital for his injuries and getting a prescription for pain meds, which he very quickly realized got him high. A feeling he was particularly fond of as he tried not to think about how much damage he had left behind.

Age 18-25:

During this time Orin got his degree and decided to become a dentist. He began a series of failed relationships. There were a number of causes, just falling out of interest with each other, them not putting up with Orin's "reckless sexual habits", or Orin doing some active self-sabotage. He leaned more on his addictions, especially as he became more aware of the ways he acted a lot like his father when it came to how he treated his romantic partners. Eventually he settled in New York City, opening up a dental practice, still relying heavily on pain meds and nitrous oxide to deal with his internal turmoil rather than finding healthy outlets for his aggression and sadism.

Age 25-Present (Early 30s)

Orin finally got into his first truly long term relationship with Audrey. The fact that she hasn't broken up with him being a big part of why its lasted. Orin makes no real attempts to deal with his trauma, preferring instead to indulge in things that don't require him to think about the person he's grown into. And well, he's also maybe fried his brain a bit.

[doublel27]

TK constantly acknowledges that he fucks up, apologizes, and he calls himself names while doing so. He apologized and called himself "crazy" for not responding well to Carlos's surprise date in season 1. He apologized and called himself a "bitch" for being upset that Carlos didn't introduce him to his parents in season 2. He tried to apologize for fighting with Carlos in season 2, and Carlos said something about agreeing not to, meaning that they had talked about it. He apologized and said that he "screwed up" for talking to Iris now in season 4.

Idk what show you are watching, honestly.

Yes. TK does. TK has also been in therapy since he was seven (even if he’s mostly applied those strategies after rehab), has two parents who were in law school and process everything verbally even if it’s not effective. TK has better skills around communication and always has. I’ve argued that since I started watching the show. There’s several metas.

But no one drags him through his fuck ups, he owns them naturally and in some cases, I think he over apologizes. TK drags himself through his fuck ups. But I think TK is used to being, occasionally, the most functional being in the room with his parents and does a lot of managing of situations. He’s always apologizing and sometimes over apologizing. It’s who TK is.

Carlos, meanwhile, does not process verbally. He never has. He sits and stews. He gets petty and doesn’t own his parts. He’s a perfectionist who is terrified that if he’s wrong or fucks up he won’t be enough or loved and is driven to be the best he can to the point he occasionally lies or gaslights people in order to not own his shit. He’s been like that since season one.

He has two parents who he came out to at 17 who never mentioned it again, even with him turning around and getting married at 18-20 and that marriage rapidly falling apart. Like? They don’t talk. About anything. We see it in how stoic Gabriel is in 2.08 and is shocked when Carlos lashes out. Carlos says that the most emotional he’s ever seen his father is 2.12 after the arson. Even in 4.04 TK takes a moment to lash out at Gabriel for keeping everything so close. This is the man Carlos has been trying to impress his whole life. Gabriel Reyes is a man who very clearly believes actions speak a lot louder than words and Carlos is very similar.

Carlos has also, to my knowledge, never been in therapy. TK is the better communicator (I’ve said that since I’ve started watching the show). He’s been slowly learning communication skills from TK. We’ve seen such a change from season 1/2 when Carlos would call TK crazy for holding boundaries or pretending TK’s assessment of meeting the parents wasn’t weird. Instead we’ve seen a progression to season 3 where Carlos doesn’t entirely pretend everything’s fine but opens up before TK disappears in 3.13. We get a man in season 4 who doesn’t try and fix it without telling TK but goes to him and tries to come up with a plan.

Carlos does not tend to apologize verbally like TK. He apologizes, most frequently, through action. We see it in 1.03 when Carlos asks TKK out on a real date instead of trying to manufacture a date out of a booty call. We see it in 2.12 when TK tries to apologize for the fight at the firehouse and he’s cooking dinner and tells TK to leave it. We see it in 3.04 where he immediately takes TK home and has already moved TK in. We see it in 3.13 when Carlos calls Cooper and puts a pizza in the oven and leaves.

The only real verbal apologies we get out of him is, aside from stupid things when TK almost died, is the one about his parents which required TK pushing him not once, but twice on the issue. TK did call himself a little bitch (but he wasn’t fucking sorry about it) and told Carlos how unsafe he felt because of Carlos’s actions and that’s when Carlos apologized. He often needs to be confronted with how his actions affect people to apologize and there wasn’t time for all that processing here.

They’re both petty bitches and I love that so much.

That’s the show I’m watching. I’m not surprised Carlos was icy in 4.03. He’s icy whenever he’s upset, even if it’s himself he’s mad at. He projects his anxieties like crazy. While I think TK felt blamed and blamed himself (because he always does even if it’s not his fault - with like everyone including his parents) I think knowing Carlos, he mostly blamed himself, and took it out a little on TK, which isn’t cool mind you, it’s not okay. But my boys are both fuck ups in their own right and I love them an insane amount.

Y’all Carlos Reyes is a man who cooked a full candle light meal after sending the equivalent of a “you up” text. This is a man who bought a whole ass condo without telling his partner after they’d agreed not to buy it. Like…I don’t know why any of you expect this man to have communication skills. He has to be pushed into literally every conversation/speech he’s ever had about his feelings. I don’t know why TK thought Carlos could even deliver a heartfelt speech to their friends about being engaged. It’s not his style.

But TK has them in spades. It’s one of the reasons they work together. Like puzzle pieces. So…yes. I will keep them and I don’t need to be hit over the head with Carlos’s fuck ups because I’ve witnessed them from 1.02…he’s always been a mess y’all. He just pretends really well and I love him for it.

He still needs therapy.

[avatarofwar]

i saw you talk about wolf a few times from sekiro and was wondering if you'd want to share more of your thoughts on him or sekiro as a whole, the game really interests me compared to other dark souls games so i wanted to ask

sorry for the late reply but oh boy do I have thoughts abt wolf. trying not to spoil the game, so I'm gonna refrain from talking about the story. might go into just restating known things about the game, but I'd much rather play it safe and not spoil the story

before going to that. the game is very much different from dark souls (setting wise, while taking place in a fictional country it is in a historical setting. I cannot comment on the setting properly bc I don't know much about the time period, however), most notably in the combat (primarily shifting from a dodge-centric playstyle to a parry-centric playstyle (significantly easier than dark souls/elden ring parrying, however), with dodges having significantly shorter i-frames and being very unreliable for dodging attacks). it's very different but something I really enjoy, even if I'm not as good as I am at typical soulsborne combat. it's really fun when you get the hang of it, and while I might not be The Best at it (which is mostly bc of how different it is from soulsborne games, so ofc I'm not as good at is as I am at the other fromsoft games I've played), it's something I can still enjoy

a huge thing about sekiro is the difference in how the story is told. in soulsborne games the story is something you have to figure out; progressing through the main path doesn't give you enough to piece everything together if you don't read any lore. with sekiro, however, the story is significantly more obvious, on account of the playable character having unique ties to the world and its characters, rather than going the soulsborne route of being one of many people (wording hard, but the chosen undead for example is no one special, just one of many undead trying to link the flame). it's a very different method of storytelling, but is still something really good. for as much as I adore having to actively hunt down lore and story in soulsborne games, it's also great experiencing story through natural game progression

wolf is also canonically disabled (loses his left arm at the start of the game) and has a really fucking cool prosthetic that is a whole part of the combat system (even though I personally keep forgetting to use it). so good for him. he deserves a prosthetic that can have deadly weaponry attached to it. like a mini-flamethrower. he deserves a mini-flamethrower, as a treat.

putting the wolf thoughts beneath a read more because this is getting long and I might spoil some stuff (mostly relationship with another character, I'll try to refrain from story spoilers. also spoilers in general, but there might be some), and he has definitely become a blorbo (additionally, content warning for abuse)

first of all. wolf makes me want to throw myself off a cliff and I mean this in the most positive way ever. he is great and I love him but man he needs so much fucking therapy and he doesn't even realise it (therapy probably doesn't exist in that time period, but besides the point). he is very much traumatised and has been heavily shaped by it and doesn't even know it.

prior to the events of the game (I forgot how long ago it was) he was orphaned by war and got taken in by owl, a shinobi and also a piece of fucking garbage. owl raises wolf to be a shinobi under the iron code, with the number one rule being loyalty to his father (owl), with his master (kuro, the divine heir) a close second (and also to give his life for his master if necessary. which is also a whole other thing to get into).

owl is very explicitly abusive. he raises wolf as a tool rather than a person, and that upbringing severely affects wolf as a character - he is an incredibly capable shinobi, but lacks any skills other than that; he does not know how to be a proper person, he is a loyal wolf, but he does not know how to be anything other than that. hell, without spoiling too much about the context, there is a cutscene in which owl actively attempts to guilt trip wolf, going as far as using fake tears (saying anything specific is very spoilery. this isn't even the only horrid thing he's done, but I'm trying to refrain from too many spoilers).

wolf canonically does not value himself without anyone to serve (we see this at the beginning of the game, as events prior to the start of the game not yet known about leads him to believe he has no one to serve, and thus no purpose, so he isolates himself from the world in a well for 3 years). while he does have compassion for others (most notable example being concern over victims of dragonrot), he starts off the game driven primarily by duty. he is loyal to a fault, willing to do anything for kuro, but also valuing his service to kuro more than himself (cannot remember the exact wording, but when kuro expresses concern for how many times wolf has died for him, wolf states that it does not matter as it was in service to him).

there's also the fact that wolf canonically eats uncooked rice and genuinely doesn't know - as a fully grown adult - you are supposed to cook it, which is... genuinely something awful if you truly think about it and what more it implies about his upbringing especially considering it's one of the most basic things you could learn how to make (just... says a lot about owl if you seriously think about it).

he is a loyal wolf, but he doesn't know how to be more than that. he doesn't know how to just... exist for himself, to be his own person separate of his duty and he doesn't even recognise just how fucked up it is, because how could he, when he was shaped into this as a child, when his own father wanted him to be nothing more than a tool to use.

I could say a lot more about his relationships with other characters (that are actually good people) and how it just. makes me lose my mind, but this post is almost 1k words. so, simply put, kuro genuinely caring about him makes me so fucking emotional, especially bc of owl; his father might be horrible and an abuser, he might not know how to be more than he was raised, but at the very least he can serve someone who actively cares about him and his wellbeing.

[fraudulent-cheese]

sorry. I thought about a very specific line in a fanfic and it fucked me up. It will happen again

[switchcase]

Had the most hilarious appointment just now. My psychiatrist (decent but clearly out of her depth, understandable) scheduled an appointment for solutions focused brief therapy (SFBT) on account of the out of her depth part. And sure, I'll indulge her. I get the SFBT guy. He gives me a generic anxiety and depression screening questionnaire, nothing else. I say I have been in court ordered therapy and diagnosed with both from an early age. He asks what got me diagnosed with anxiety and depression so young. The minute I say "child abuse" he starts stuttering and apologizing. What did he think I was court ordered therapy and diagnosed for, honestly. He starts in with "I am going to give you Advice now" and before he can go on I ask him if he would like my list of diagnoses and previous treatments. He says "no that's not relevant because long term therapy is different from brief therapy." Kind of weird you wouldn't want to know as a practitioner before you give advice, but alright. Not really standard SFBT line of questioning either.

Then he says to me. "Whenever you're anxious I want you to come up with 3 categories and name everything you can in those categories. Also, try positivity journalling! When you are depressed you forget to look at the positives. :)"

I am so glad it was a phone appointment cause it took everything for me to not bust out laughing at this man and I definitely couldn't stop myself from smiling.

Belatedly he realizes he didn't ask me Important Beginning of Appointment Questions like "hey are you by any chance homicidal?" and "hm have you been hallucinating lately?" So he asks those after he has already given me the advice.

Right after the appointment ended he sent me a very generic list of resources for long term therapy despite me saying at the beginning of the session that I Have a therapist.

[queers-gambit]

Two to Tango

prompt: the aftermath of Carmy's words seem to rattle him more than you.

pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader pairing: Carmy x Peach

fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear

word count: 5.4k+

note: author still does not want any messages about glorifying toxic relationships. typically, but not always, when someone calls you clingy, it's weaponized and is abusive. this fic is not meant to portray that! it’s meant to show internal agony and the journey to forgiveness - Carmy apologizes 'cause he's actually sorry!

warnings: cursing, reader folds 'cause who wouldn't for the sweet puppy that is Carmy, hurt and comfort, small angst, small fluff, we talk about Mikey a bit, author uses writing as therapy, relationship angst...? barely edited.

part one: God's Plan

browse Clingy Baby collection masterlist here

"It's six in the Goddamn morning!" You raged at your front door, stomping up to it, "Are you dumb in the fucking head!? Who the fuck in their right mind knocks like the Goddamn cops at six in the fucking morning!?"

You whipped it open, the force causing a breeze of air to blow your bedridden hair back and highlight your exhaustion. "Hiya, sunshine," Richie beamed down at you, holding up a paper bag, offering, "donut?"

"Richie!? I know you're not fuckin' stupid, baby boy, so, what the fuck is wrong with you? It's six in the morning on my day off - do you want to give me a reason to punch you? You hate your nose that much?"

He tisked at you mockingly, "Someone's cranky this morning."

"What do you want?"

"You're not gonna invite me in for coffee? I brought us donuts! See? C'mon, Peach," He jostled the bag around with a shit-eating, closed-lip smile. "Dooonuts," he taunted.

You had to pause, count to ten in your head, then sigh through your nose. You offered kindly, "Richie? Would you like to come in for some coffee? Since you kindly brought donuts?"

He grinned, "Awwh, thanks, Peach, thats real nice of yah! Don't mind if I do!"

"Don't call me that," you snapped, leading him into your kitchen. The door shut and locked.

"Oh, someone's touchy."

"What do you fucking want?" You whined, pouring two mugs of hot coffee. "You come bangin' at my door, early ass in the mornin'. You better have a good-ass reason," you slid the mug over the counter he sat at. "Cream or sugar?"

He shook his head, fiddling with the mug for a moment before admitting as you dressed up your own coffee, "Uh, so... It's Carmy."

You paused, taking a slow sip from your mug, waiting for more that wouldn't come. So, you quietly asked, "What about Carmy?"

"He's falling apart."

"O...Kay?"

"Peach," he frowned, "you know that your relationship was the only thing that made sense to him - he's falling apart without you there."

"Okay," you nodded, taking another swallow of hot bean-water.

"That's it? Nothing else to say? Dude's losin' his fuckin' shit, Peach. Okay? Barely leaves the restaurant, h-he's all manic and shit, doesn't stop cookin', isn't gettin' a lotta sleep, and Syd said his clothes are all over the apartment - he's not keeping himself in order."

"So, he needs his mother?"

Richie glared with a clenched jaw, "Not fuckin' funny, Peach."

"I'm not laughing."

"He needs you."

"I'd argue otherwise, he's a grown fuckin' man who doesn't need to be taken care of. Look, if he was man enough to call me a desperate, clingy bitch, he's man enough to deal with the fallout of his words."

"Look, hey, hey, hey, I'm not sayin' he's not in the wrong," he waved his hands, eyes widening, "actually, the exact opposite. We all chewed his ass out when we found out what he fuckin' said, Peach. And look, I've never seen Fak that fuckin' angry."

You semi-pouted your bottom lip, "Really?"

"Fak was ready to strangle Carmy, I think," Richie sighed. "I yelled, Sugar yelled, Fak lost his shit, Syd even cornered him in the office and laid into him..."

"I thought she didn't like me," you whispered.

"She's getting to know you, but she likes you," he assured, "and it's obvious the affect you have on Carmy. We all respect that - "

"Oh, great, so everyone except the one person who needs to respect our relationship - respects it!"

Richie frowned at you, nodding in agreement before admitting, "He's a dumb fuckin' idiot, Peach, we all know that, but the dude is losing it without you."

"Sucks to suck."

"Peach," he groaned, slapping his hands to the counter with exasperation. "Don't you love him?"

"Of course I love him, but I also have this little thing called self-respect! He said some shit - shit he can't ever take back. The fuck I look like going back to him when he's the one in the wrong!? I don't hate myself that much, and despite what he says, I'm not that desperate for love."

"How is talking to the man you love - "

"Richie," you paused him, "your Cousin said a lot of hurtful shit. It's been weeks, okay? He's gonna snap outta it, realize what he's done, and right the wrongs he's committed. I don't need to speed that along in any way, shape, or form - he's a grown man. And I'm a grown woman, I don't have to fall to anyone's beck-and-call, he can figure his own shit out."

"I know - look, it's been fuckin' weeks of us dealin' with him losin' his fuckin' mind!" Richie snapped. "We tried to respect that you wanted distance and time, we really did, but he's losin' it, Peach, more than he's lost it before. Okay? I'm concerned about him, more than I was when the shit with Mikey went down..."

You sighed and leaned on your kitchen counter, wiping your fingers over your eyes to pinch the bridge of your nose after. "Okay, okay," you paused, sighing again, blinking as you looked at Richie, "so, what would you like me to do?"

He pouted dramatically, "Talk to him? Please?"

"To say... What?"

"I don't know, you guys can work that out together, but he's miserable, Peach. Just talk to him, just..." He sighed, shaking his head, "I know it's not fair to ask of you, but he's slippin' off the deep end. You're all he knows, all that makes sense to him, and with you gone..." His eyes turned red as he held back his tears, "I-I'm not sayin' he's gonna do anythin', Peach, but everythin' with Mikey's still so fresh... I just - I can't go through this again. Can't lose another Berzatto."

You frowned, understanding now why he appeared so frazzled.

"Carmy's not Mikey, Richie, okay?" You reminded him softly, reaching for his hand; leaving your extended to reach him, "And you're not gonna lose any more of us, you hear me?" You gave a squeeze, "I'll talk to him."

"Really?"

"I will," you assured softly, seeing the single tear drop from his waterline when he bowed his head and sniffled harshly. "Hey, Richie...? Do you, maybe, wanna bring some flowers to Mikey today? Think you wanna visit?"

He shrugged, "Maybe..."

"Maybe it'll be nice," you assured calmly. "It rained a few days ago, so, the ground won't be too soggy anymore, but the grass will be lush and green - hydrated and shit."

"Right," he chuckled, nodding, "yeah, okay, maybe that'll be nice, yeah, you're right."

"Maybe Carmy could use a visit, too."

"He won't go."

You nodded, "I know, but sometimes it's nice to just have the offer."

Richie agreed, downing the last of his black coffee. "All right," he cleared his throat, "let's go - you wearin' that?"

"What?"

"You gonna wear that? To go talk to Carmy?"

"It's not even seven in the morning!"

"He's at the restaurant," Richie shrugged. "Dude doesn't leave. C'mon, he needs a nap or somethin'."

You groaned, knowing he wouldn't leave unless you left with him. So, you got ready quickly while he sat at your desktop computer; playing Facebook's FarmVille - the same you left your little cousins to play when they needed distracted. He was enraptured by the adorable virtual sheep, laughing to himself as he learned the ropes of the game; and when you were ready, you had time to fill a to-go tumbler of coffee while he signed off.

When you arrived at The Beef, it was still closed for the morning prep; and inside, chaos rained in a fury of angry voices. You listened to Carmy snap at Marcus about something petty, going as far as to slap a pastry out of his hand as they argued in one another's faces with ignited passion.

"Ooookay," you moved through the kitchen and got between the two men, hands on Carmy's chest, "that's enough, Chef, hey, hey, hey, c'mon, walk away - just walk away, Carmy, don't do this. Hey, hey, don't do this, c'mon, just step off - walk away with me, please. Please, Carmy, hey, hey, step off, walk away with me, please."

"Fuck you doin' here, Peach?" He asked with red, swollen eyes. He looked sullen; pale between the angry red blotches to his skin, bags under his tired eyes, looking worn out and thinner than you remembered.

"Yeah, hey, hey, we'll talk about that, c'mon, outside, outside, outside," you directed him, sighing at the sight of the splattered pastry you were forced to step over. "I'm so sorry, Marcus," you whispered, seeing him nod and wave you off as you and Carmy pushed outside into the alley.

The door shut behind you, making Carmy snarl, "What the fuck, Peach - "

"No, I think that's better asked to you," you snapped. "The hell's wrong with you? Yellin' at Marcus like that? You know how rude it is to slap shit outta anyone's hand?"

He paced in anger, wiping a hand down his face; circling his mouth with his fingers, eyes ringed with red, hair greasy and tossed in a mess. His pants looked baggy, his shirt wrinkled, stained, and dirty with sweat marks.

"What're you doin' here?" He asked in a pant, hands going to his slender hips, head shaking as his tear-filled eyes avoided yours.

"Carmy, we need to talk."

"No shit," he breathed, scoffing after and widening his pace.

"Hey, Carmy, hey, hey," you reached for him, taking both his wrists in your grasp so he had to face you. "I need you to pause for me, please, hey," you stepped in his way when he tried to move. "Carmy, you're no good to anyone when you're like this - least of all yourself. So, I need you to talk - "

"You left," he panicked, pulling back to start pacing again. "You left - you left me. We got in a fight and you left, you fucking left. You walked away and you left me."

"Carmy, we got in more than a fight," you sighed. "You lashed out at me, then turned avoidant, and I don't linger where I'm not wanted."

"How can you think that?" He demanded, still pacing. "That you're not wanted by me? That you're not welcome, what? In my life? At my side? With me? Baby - of course, you are!"

"You didn't exactly make me feel any different," you pointed out sharply. "Carmy, can you please fucking pause for me so we can talk this out - "

"I know I fucked up," he ranted to himself, huffing and puffing as his emotion strangled him. "I know I did, I kept - I couldn't - I fucked up. I know I did. I couldn't get my head outta my ass," he listed, pacing as he panted when panic took hold of his being, "and I hurt you, and it was like I had to keep hurting you because I couldn't be alone in what I felt and I couldn't exactly figure out what the fuck I was feeling - I just needed you to hurt, too."

"Carmy," you sighed patiently.

"And I couldn't stop, I just kept going, and when I realized how bad I made it, I couldn't fucking stop - I needed y-yo-you t-to know what I felt, but I couldn't find the words. I-I hate that I did that, I-I fucking hurt you and I made this so much worse than it ever had t-to be, and I fucking know, Peach, okay? I know you're not clingy, you were just loving me. Y-You were loving me, you were using your own love languages, and I felt y-you so fuckin' close to me, and freaked out - I just - I just don't know why. I just - I panicked, I couldn't stop whatever I felt, and I'm so sorry," he breathed, shaking his head, wiping his cheeks as the tears started. "I-I-I'm so sorry, Peach, I couldn't control myself and I-I hate that I hurt you, and I know I don't deserve your understanding, but I just - I couldn't stop - "

"Carmy," you stepped directly in his footpath; needing to seize hold of his swollen biceps to catch his movements as he all but barreled right into you, "I need you to breathe."

"Nah, I'm okay - "

"No, you're not," you spoke sternly, shaking your head. "Baby," you eased your tone to a softer tone, seeing a glimmer of hope spark in his baby blues, "I need you to take a breath and remain in the present with me, okay? Just stand here with me," you watched as he blinked a couple of times; reaching out to hold your waist tentatively. "And stay in the present, okay? Stay here with me."

"I'm so sorry, Peach," he whispered, stepping closer so he could feel your breasts against his chest; caging you with his arms. "I'm so fuckin' sorry, I didn't - I didn't know what the fuck I was even trying to fight with you about. You're not clingy - you're not any of the things I said, I didn't mean it - any of it."

"Calling me desperate?"

"I didn't mean any of it."

"A bitch?"

"Please," he whispered, bringing you in closer so he could rest his forehead on yours. "Don't repeat it, I know what I said, and I'm so fucking sorry for all of it. I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I'm goin' crazy without yah, Peach. I need my best girl, and I don't deserve you, but I fuckin' need you." He sniffled, pulling back to caress your cheek, whispering, "I need you, Peach, you're the only thing that I know - the only thing I can understand, that makes sense to me. I think I just felt stressed and overwhelmed, I wasn't sure what to do - I couldn't find the words, I'm so sorry."

You nodded slowly, "I think we can work through this."

"I don't deserve you."

"Maybe not, but you have me anyway," you whispered, bringing his forehead to your own again. "But you can't do this again, taking anger out on me when I haven't done anything."

"Never again," he sighed, now nestling into your neck for comfort; arms tightening so you were the closest you could be with your head bent to keep his head caressed with yours.

"I don't think we can say 'never', but we can make an effort to leave work stress at work, right?" You whispered softly, letting one around coil around him to keep him close; the other caressing his jaw. "You don't get to treat me like that," you reminded him, "because I'm on your side, Carmy, I'm not the enemy."

"I know," he squeezed you tight.

"And the people doing their jobs are not the enemy," you smirked.

"I know," he chuckled lightly. "I owe Marcus an apology..."

"I'm sure you owe it to the others, too," you mused, holding his cheek as you turned your head to kiss his forehead. "Promise me we're done with that reactive bullshit. It doesn't make navigating a relationship easier on us."

"We're done, we're so fuckin' done with that shit," he whispered, deflating into your embrace as you held him close. "I'm so sorry, baby. I really am."

"I know," you comforted softly. "I forgive you."

"I don't deserve it."

"Hey, hey, this self-deprecating stunt has to end, too. We've gotta go forward with at least some confidence if we're gonna figure this out together."

He nodded, pulling back but keeping hold of your waist. "I am confident about this... About you - about us."

"Hmm?" You gently pushed a few stray curls from his forehead.

"Move in with me - officially."

Your face contorted in mild disappointment, "Oh, Carmen - "

"No, no," he rushed, sighing as his hand flattened on your jaw and cheek again, "just listen to me. I've wanted to ask you for a long time, okay? I've wanted this for - like - fucking years. Hear me? I just," he sighed, "I wasn't sure how to ask. I want this for us, I want us to be together, okay? Officially. I-I want us living together, Peach, okay? I want to come home and just - I want you there. I want all of you," he frowned, tears swelling again, "and all your shoes in the foyer, hair in the shower drain, perfume on the counter, and every-single-way you know how to love me. I was wrong to say you were clingy - and everything else I said. Baby, the last couple weeks, I've felt so fucking empty, so lonely and - just - cold. I've been cold without you. I need you, Peach, I need you with me, and I need you to be exactly you - no holding back. Because you're exactly who I need to love me, I'm so sorry I fucked that up before."

"Carmy."

He frowned, "I'm sorry."

"I know," you smirked, "and I forgive you. But you know it's gonna take more than a few pretty words and some tears, right?"

He nodded, "Anything to make this work again."

You sighed in patience, "Go say your apologies to the others, we've got t'make a stop before going back to yours - and you're going to take a fucking nap."

"I'm fine - "

"Look me in my eye and try to tell me in the past 72 hours, you've had decent, restful sleep."

He frowned, opening his mouth a few times but then sighing. "You know I can't," he whispered.

"Exactly why we're going back to yours."

Carmy paused, brows furrowing as if a thread pulled them together. He asked softly, "Is that a no to us... Living together? Is that why you're calling it 'my' place?"

You offered him a look of patience and leaned in to peck his lips for a few prolonged seconds, promising, "There's your apartment, there's my apartment, and then there's gonna be our apartment. Somewhere that's just ours, 100% us." His mouth stretched in a grin, so you swiftly cut him off, "But you have to ask me again when you've got restful sleep under your belt. I want you clear headed when you make this kinda decision."

"Yes, ma'am," he agreed. "Where're we goin' before?"

You swallowed nervously, telling him softly, "You absolutely do not have to go with us, but I think Richie could use a visit out to Mikey's grave. I said I'd take him with some flowers, but you do not have to get out to go with us - not if you're not ready."

He blinked a few times, rolling his lips between his teeth as his eyes dropped from yours. You were about to coo his name and assure him again, when he nodded at you and tried to half-smile. "Okay," he breathed.

"Okay?"

"Mhm. I'll, uh... M-Maybe I can, just, hang back in the car."

"Sure, baby, whatever you're comfortable with," you whispered, leaning in to peck his forehead. "You good?"

"I will be."

"Mhm," you hummed, caressing his cheek again before pushing your hand into his curls. "Now, let's get a move on - I want you to march in there, say you're sorry to your Chefs, and then we'll leave."

"Yes, ma'am," Carmy whispered, leaning in to kiss you - but you pulled back.

"Aht," you halted him with a teasing finger to his lips, "after we've got everything worked out, then you can kiss me."

"You got t'kiss me," he mumbled against your finger; making you hum as you fought off a stretching smile, and lower your hand.

"Fair point - just one then - "

He cut you off by, indeed, pressing a single kiss to your lips, but not pulling back. His hand raised to hold the back of your head, your lips spreading in a grin against his; finding rhythm to move together before pausing to press in prolonged passion.

When he pulled back, you both paused to smile, and when you tried to peck his lips again, he pulled back, teasing, "Aht, just the one."

"Oh, fuck you," you laughed lightly, letting him take your hand before leading you back into the kitchen. The other Chefs lingered, sparing you and Carmy a few nervous glances, making you whisper in his ear as you squeezed his hand, "Go ahead, baby, get it done."

He nodded and called the kitchen to attention, clearing his throat, and beginning to make his apologies. He singled out Marcus, then Sydney, Richie, and Sugar; the kitchen staff all accepting his words and insisting he could take the day off - even the next few days if he wanted! You had to usher him to grab his things a few times, nudging him in reminder and verbally pushing him back into action. That boy's ADHD would truly be the death of him.

"So?" Richie smirked at you as Marcus handed you a packaged box of pastries.

"We're talking it out."

He chuckled, "Good. Get him outta here, Peach, dude needs to breathe."

"I got it," you swatted him away as Carmy exited the office. "But we've got somewhere to be first, right?"

He paused, then nodded and asked in a mutter, "He said okay?"

"He's got time to decide what he wants to do, but he knows we're going. C'mon, get your coat."

Richie met you at the front of the restaurant and with a parting wink to Sugar, you took Carmy's hand, tangled your fingers together, and left to venture to your parked car. Carmy got in the front, Richie in the back, and after a stop at a corner bodega to grab three bouquets of flowers, you drove to the cemetery. Carmy was silent, no music played, and Richie's leg bounced in anxious tension; making small conversation with you about your job in an effort to distract himself.

When you arrived, you pulled up on the access road that you knew was closest to Mikey's grave. Richie spared a glare between you and Carmy before muttering that he needed a cigarette and got out of the car to leave you alone. "Baby?" You whispered, reaching for his hand. "Hey, look, if you don't want to go with us, it's okay. We won't be long... But maybe you want to sign this," you showed him the small, blank name card left in the flowers.

"Why?" He whispered.

You shrugged, "So he knows they're from you."

"Peach," he sighed, meeting your eyes.

"Baby, I know it's silly, I know it's easier to ignore it all. But I'd like to believe it's just a nice gesture for our own closure - it's a signed gift from us, to them... And maybe it's nice to pretend that wherever they are, they know what we've left for them."

Carmy nodded slowly, "I-I don't think... I don't think I can go..."

"It's okay, baby," you whispered.

"But," he sniffled, opening his hand to you, "I'll sign it, if you'll leave it for me?"

"Of course," you rushed, opening your purse to producing a pen for him. The clank card rest on the center console of your car, pausing, swallowing nervously, then scribbling his name as he cleared his throat. He offered you the pen, waited until it was put away, then offered the flowers. "Hang tight, we won't be too long," you whispered, leaning in to rest your forehead. "You okay?"

He nodded, pecking your forehead before letting you get out of the car. You handed Richie his own flowers with a signed card, holding your own and Carmy's; linking arms with Rich to venture up the small grass hill and moved about halfway down the cemetery plot line. When you came to his stone, you understood this was what Rich needed more than you, so, you knelt and laid the two bouquets down before starting to quickly groom the area around his tombstone.

You told him, "I'm sorry it's not much, but I'll be back later for a picnic and a chat. I brought you flowers from me a-and from Carmy. He's in the car, but he's here, Mikey... Give him time," you whispered, brushing dirt from the stone before standing. "Take your time," you told Richie softly, seeing the tears gather in his eyes.

"Thanks, Peach," he whispered, offering you a tight hug. When you pulled back and started to walk away, Richie lowered himself to kneel and lay his own flowers down; hearing him tell Mikey, "Don't gotta worry 'bout us, Mike-Man, Peach is the glue that keeps us together. Shit, she even got Carmy out here..."

You made it back to the car and got in, smiling at Carmy - but dropping it the instant you saw tears in his eyes. "Talk to me," you whispered, reaching for a wet wipe in your glovebox to clean your hands after plucking the grass and brushing off dirt from the grave.

"Why can't I get out?"

You only stared at him for a long moment, unsure what to say.

"I'm here... I'm finally here... Why can't I get out?"

"You're not ready," you nodded, tossing the wipe aside to a plastic bag. "It's okay, Carmy, it's okay to not be ready yet. We can come back when you are," you reached for his hand.

"I think this added to my frustration," he admitted. "I couldn't... I didn't go to the funeral, haven't been here since he was... You know."

"Laid to rest."

"Yeah," he sighed. "Fuck's wrong with me?"

"You're grieving," you relented, nuzzling closer so your head rested on his shoulder. "It's not linear, Carmy, baby, just let yourself feel. When you try to repress your emotions, you lash out inappropriately."

"I know," he whispered, "'M sorry."

"It's not your fault," you promised, the two of you quietly bowing your heads together. You remained as such until Richie got back in the car, and from there, it was quiet as everyone stewed in their own emotion. You dropped Rich back at work before promising to call him later and driving away; heading for Carmy's apartment in the soothing silence, his hand locked in yours.

When you arrived at his apartment, you froze upon seeing the interior's state. "Oh, Carmy, no," you whispered, frowning deeply.

"Looks worse than it is," he deflected. You only hummed and let him lead you to the bedroom; watching him strip and prepare for bed before joining you on the mattress. He crashed almost immediately, sighing in relief as he pecked over your shoulder and collarbone, muttering, "'M so glad you're back. 'M so sorry, Peach."

"I know you are, and I forgive you," you told him softly, carding a manicured hand through his hair. "Just get some rest, baby."

He was asleep nearly instantly. He deflated on top of you, deeply resting enough to not notice you slip out from under him. You cleaned his entire apartment; doing laundry, cleaning, scrubbing, replacing necessities he deemed himself too lazy to pay attention to. You did dishes, cleaned out his fridge, and as you mopped up the floors, the sun set and Carmy emerged from the bedroom.

"Baby?" He mumbled in earnest confusion, sighing in relief when he saw you.

"What? Afraid I disappeared on you?" You teased with a small grin.

"For sure," he mumbled, wiping sleep from his eyes; making your amusement dim when you realized the nerve it struck. "The hell you doin'?"

"You didn't seriously think I could rest knowing this monster of a clean-up job lingered out here, did you?"

"I don't want you t'clean after me."

"Well, too late," you smirked. "You good now?"

"I feel better, yeah."

"Good."

"And I made up my mind."

"Hmm? About what?"

"I'm gonna take some time off work," he nodded, "and focus on us. Get us in a new crib, it'll be nice."

"Think you can handle that?"

He nodded, "I'll have to, you're the most important thing in my life, I can't lose you. So, if I gotta take time off, that's the least of my worries. I'm only here for us, for you."

You smiled at him, setting the mop aside to wrap him in your arms. "I like the sound of that, us making a home together - being able to decorate a new home. But don't let me overdo it, okay? I get all excited and kinda bulldoze my way through projects. I don't want you t'find real reason t'resent me."

"Nah, that ain't possible," he promised quietly.

True to his word, Carmy took three solid weeks off; agreeing to a fourth week as a contact-only consultant. You and he slept in most days, looking at apartments, and not once did he even mention work. He was diligent in his attention, focused on you and you alone; putting in overtime to rebuild that what was broke by focusing on shared interests again. You found a place you loved ready for what was basically immediate move-in, taking time to pack your respected places and prepare for the official start of your cohabitating relationship.

You didn't forget what he said, being reserved in your displays of love. Yet Carmy was different; he was totally clingy the moment you returned to his life. He feared letting you go meant you'd disappear again, feared you'd run away again. He held your hand at every possible opportunity, got you a fresh bouquet of weekly flowers, ran all his errands with you; never went to bed without you, cooked all meals with you in the kitchen - perched up on a counter. Most showers you took together, and almost every night was spent cuddling on the couch or in bed with either a book being shared between you or a new show playing on the mounted flatscreen TV.

Carmy clung because he thought if he showed you acts of his love, it'd allow comfort towards your loving behavior to flourish again - and he was right. It took a little bit of time, but Carmy clung tighter and tighter; ensuring you started to reciprocate before ever easing up in the intensity of his affectionate displays. He didn't want to overwhelm you, but knew you needed the reassurance.

You were cautious, you were apprehensive; tiptoeing around Carmy even when living together before warming back up to him. You didn't need to repeat the words he hurled at you all those weeks ago, not wanting to dredge up repressed feelings, but never letting him forget what he said. Your actions spoke enough, skittish around his affection; something Carmy took note of and despised himself for. He made up for it, of course he did, it was Carmy and he hated tension and conflict in his closest circles of life. Yet it wasn't so easy for you two to move forward, they weren't just words to you.

They were direct insults to you as a person; to you and how you loved others. Carmy had seen your deepest fear and used it as a defense against you - wanting you to hurt the way he was, too. He understood this wasn't acceptable, knowing the next time he resorted to such despicable actions, you'd simply walk away; never dealing with disrespect, so, he needed to be acutely aware of his words.

You would never allow yourself to be someone else's doormat, but part of being an adult is understanding that people were allowed to make mistakes - it's part of being fucking human. How terrible you'd feel if someone held your own mistakes against you, because the truth was, you weren't perfect either.

Part of being in a(n adult) relationship is understanding when someone apologized, it was best to accept and move on because nothing was ever solved by dragging turmoil out. This didn't mean forget what happened, forget whatever emotion was evoked - but to do your part to repair what was broken; no matter who was at fault, it always took Two to Tango.

And in this song and dance, you were ready to sweep around the dance floor if only with Carmy. Because that's what a relationship was; a conscious effort by both partners to work as one, to dance in-sync; owning the art together, as equal partners.

requesting rules and masterlist

The Bear masterlist

Clingy Baby collection masterlist

[azulock]

hey, how you doing? Could you make a bllk guys who have a breeding kink? I bet Isagi would have one 👀👀👀

Fallen by my own sword on those Isagi headcanons, huh? But yes, that freak would very much have a breeding kink, damn Isagi. Looking at my breeding kink guys list now, it's pretty much "men who need therapy" (on a bigger or smaller level)

bllk guys who have a breeding kink

isagi yoichi

This fucking freak - he loves it, loves it a little too much actually. I hope you like it too and that you actually want children, cause if you don't, well, Isagi sure wants them. He loves creampies just by themselves, really wants to cum inside only, but if you can have kids, that's double. The panty stealing fuck will claim he can tell your fertile days by smelling your underwear. This weirdo probably just been keeping track of your cycle in secret through more mundane means. So on your fertile days he will be doubling down on his efforts to keep you filled up with his cum.

For Isagi the kink is a mix of possessiveness and the wish to have a big family - to prove how perfect you are to each other. He had a good family, he will be a good dad, right? If you are in a relationship, this is only the natural outcome. He also won't shut up during sex, muttering all the time about how he is gonna make you look so good and swollen up with his babies. Will be trying to fuck you at any time during your fertile days, constantly saying it's time for a good breeding session, that you need to stay filled up to become his good pretty momma.

itoshi rin

Obsessed with family - for better or for worse. Wants to make you into his family, and just getting married ain't gonna cut it. The only way he can do it is by making you carry a part of him within yourself, and doing it once isn't gonna cut it. If his relationship with his brother didn't work out, then he is gonna have his own kids and they won't have this problem. He needs to prove he is better, that he will have a better family, more kids, better kids. Even this is a competition, and he is going to win.

He generally fucks like a desperate animal, and the day you let him do it raw, it's gonna be just a matter of time until he shows his breeding kink. It's strong, violent, animalistic, he needs to cum inside you like he needs air. If you have that kink too, then he is done for and he'll just give in. There won't be much talking during the sex, just grunting and growling as he fills you up again and again. Not the type to be keeping track of shit, he'll just be taking his pleasure and filling you up with his cum at any chance until either nature does it's thing or your period shows up.

alexis ness

Breeding as a form of devotion - or possession to be more honest. His yandere tendencies really show through here, he wants to breed you to feel that you are forever connected to him. Just painting your insides white isn't enough to mark you as his, he needs more, he nerds to make you have his children so you'll always a part of him attached to you. There is no bigger intimacy in his mind than carrying someone's child. Really, just the thought of you pregnant with his baby is enough to get him hard as a rock.

Probably won't have the guts to just show his kink straight up, he's gonna hide it for a while, pretend he isn't obsessed with the idea of breeding a child into you. But if you have a breeding kink and show your hand first he's gonna be overjoyed - tho, if you are only into it for the kink, he probably won't even think of that possibility. In his head, it's only a breeding kink if you can actually get pregnant. If you let him indulge, he will be fucking into you aggressively, begging you to take his baby, promising to be all sorts of nice and gentle while you are pregnant.

kunigami rensuke

A man with a love for his family - and not even wildcard could kill that, it just made that love a bit rougher. He's a tad more intense, more aggressive, more wild. He wanted to have a family with you and he still does, but now that reflects in an intense breeding kink. It's not about possession, it's about building his own family. About making you into a home for him, and for his seed, for his children. It's about showing how strong he is, that he will paint your insides white and give you a big strong baby.

If you have the same kink he will go crazy, wanting to prove that he can do what you desire. Even if you don't want kids right now, he will act as if you do, it's like training for the real thing. He can wait to have kids, with you wanting it the wait is worth, and he still gets to enjoy the fantasy while he fucks you hard. The mental image alone makes his blood boil. The thought of you big, glowing and vulnerable warms his heart, and he'd prove himself again by being there to care for you.

mikage reo

Wants to prove himself a good father - and there's nothing saying he can't enjoy the process of getting there. He's not the aggressive type in his breeding kink, but that's not to say it isn't intense. He can't look at you without the desire to fill you up with his cum, sometimes he'll catch himself randomly imagining what you'd look like big with his child. For him it's the biggest show of affection, to accept to carry someone's child, to out yourself in such a difficult and vulnerable position for someone you love. It's not just a big sexual fantasy for him, it's an emotional one too. He still is aware of the serious side of having kids, so for now, it's just a kink, but in the future he's going through with it.

He'll probably be worshipping the ground you stand in the minute you let him actually breed you. It isn't going to be rough, but it's going to be passionate. Reo will be pumping you full time and time again while praising you and whispering all his love in your ear. He'll keep track of your cycle to make the most of his chances, he'll still pump you full all the other days tho. But he really wants to get the best chance to breed you, so he can show his pregnant wife off as soon as possible - it's the little bit of possessiveness he has in that kink.

bonus: kaiser, karasu & shidou

Only engage in it as a kink - to the point where they will pay for your birth control. Kids are difficult, expensive and time consuming. He might want to have them at some point in the future, with a lot of planning, but he ain't risking it for a cheap thrill. He still finds the kink hot, tho, something about how primal it is really gets the blood pumping. He loves filling you up with his cum over and over again, whispering about how he is gonna plant his seed into you and make you his. Though, he just wants the fun, not the consequences.

[bewby]

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[cheollipop]

Hiiiiii<3333 Im here for the hard hours

Lately I've been thinking abt breeding kink with mingi. Like picture tighing him up to the head board and riding him during one of your risky days. And you just keep going and going just being relentless at some point he knows he's going to burst so he's BEGGING you not to make him cum. like full crying and whining his normally deep voice cracking and breaking because you did stop and his big huge cock is just throbbing inside you amd he's frustrated but then again he actually asked (begged) you to stop so he's the only one to blame here ORRRR worse (= better hehe) you do force him to cum inside you and it's just a mess. So much cum and tears 🥵🥵🥵

I'm totally normal about this man........ don't even need therapy or anything 🙃🙃

I'm so sorry for getting to this so late :( I ran out of steam but now I'm feeling better and ready to write the subbiest, whiniest mingi for you my love. no dubcon in this! happy reading~~

nsfw under cut—minors dni!

in the solace of your bedroom, the moonlight illuminating through the chiffon curtains to cast blueish hues over slick skin, the bed creaked under your added weight as you grazed your knuckles over mingi's heaving chest, a pretty shade of pink tinting the smooth skin. your eyes fluttered shut, and you allowed the breathy, high-pitched whines, the muttered mixture of pleads and curses, to envelop your every sense.

the rapid rhythm of skin-on-skin reverberated in the dark room, working your hips over mingi with tandem, his cock sheathed deep within you as you rocked back and forth, pulling off halfway before slamming back down. pleasure shot up your spine as his twitching cockhead grazed over your g-spot with every grind, your walls squeezing around him to elicit needy moans from plush lips.

"y/n, please, I can't-" you rolled your thumb over one of his nipples, interrupting his whining with a muted 'ah'. "I-I'm not gonna last."

you smiled at the concern painting his face, your hips slowing down their ruthless pace so you could lower yourself over him, adhering your chest to his and gazing into his eyes while your hips drew languid circles.

"you want me to stop?" you emphasized your pout, drawing your eyebrows in while you stared at the man under you.

large hands grabbed onto the silk ribbon tying them to the bedhead, tugging uselessly, "I don't, I really don't. just- it's dangerous, sweetheart."

you rolled your hips forward again, slipping an inch off of his cock before sliding it back inside your tight heat, "thought you wanted a baby," you pursed your lips further. one hand slid down his torso to where his cock disappeared inside you, gliding up your mound to your lower belly and pressing the heel of your palm into the soft skin, pushing against the bulging tip of his cock, twitching underneath your flesh.

his head rolled back against the pillow, a deep groan ripping through his chest as you moved your palm over the hard outline of his cock. "I do- fuck, but are we ready?"

you leaned over him, breathing over his chin while looking up, eyes glazed over with burning want. "yeah, baby, 'want you to fill me up all the way," you placed a tender kiss over his jawline, "over and over again until I'm all swollen for you."

you could feel his throbbing length inside you, the twitch of his thighs under you alerting you of his turbulent arousal. "(y/n)-"

"want them to have your eyes," one hand cupped his face, smoothing a thumb over his left eyebrow, "and your nose," you pecked the tip of his nose, "and your laugh," a fleeting kiss over the plush of his lips, you moved back to eye his dazed expression before going back in for more.

the warmth of your cunt surrounding him, the insistent squeeze around his girth, your mouth moving over his, tongue swiping over his bottom lip—mingi's world, his thoughts, feelings, senses, they all reduced to you. your heat, your skin, your touch, your voice. he tugged against the silk ribbon once, twice, before giving up, digging his feet into the mattress under him to buck his hips upwards and into you. desperate thrusts into your soaked cunt paired with a blend of airy moans and throaty grunts echoed between the four walls, your downstairs neighbours catching the melody slipping through the cracked-open window.

the familiar twitch of his cock between your walls and the pretty flush painting his chest were enough warning of his approaching orgasm, your hips lifting off him and his length slapping against his lower belly. he was left impetuously thrusting into open air, a noise of confusion escaping his parted lips.

"please, (y/n), I'm so close," he whined, trembling under you as his high dwindled down, cold air brushing over his slicked-up cock. "let me stuff you full, baby. make you nice and pregnant for me, yeah? you want that, right?"

a wave of arousal rushed through you and straight down to your core, your pussy gushing until it dripped down the sides of your thighs. "but I thought you weren't ready," you pouted in dejection.

"I am! fuck- I promise, I am! 'want our kids to be just like you—kind, beautiful, understanding," his hips jolted upwards inadvertently, the deep baritone of his voice rising a few octaves, occasionally breaking as he whined under you. "if it's with you, I'm ready for anything."

a shared exhale mingled in the small gap between your faces as you slid down mingi's length again, your eyes fluttering shut at the brush of his cockhead against your g-spot. you pried them open again, not wanting to miss the change in mingi's expression—from desperation, to relief, to the rawest forms of lust. you pawed at his wrists, pulling at the ribbon tying them firmly until it slipped off. with his hands now free, he reached down to grab at your hips before the blood could make it to his appendages. your thoughts faded into nothing, deaf to anything but the sound of skin slapping on skin combined with mingi's soft moans, his deep groans dropping to mere whimpers of need.

constant shots of pleasure seared up your spine, your clit rubbing harshly over mingi's pelvis while he fucked into you, your vision going black as you came on his cock with a strangled cry, your walls clamping around him as he continued to chase his orgasm despite your pained mewls.

it took a few more frantic thrusts before mingi's nails pressed thin crescents into your skin, his hips stuttering as hot ropes of cum shot between your pulsing walls, holding you down on his cock while he unloaded all he had deep inside you. and all he had was a lot, his seed seeping past your stretched hole from the sheer amount he was feeding into your womb.

"ngh- fuck. mingi, it's so much," you breathed out.

the pain from overstimulation dulled when you took in the tears making their way down the sides of mingi's face—pearlescent streaks reflecting the moonlight pouring out of the open blinds. "i-it won't stop coming out, ah- all for you, baby," he rolled his hips to push himself further inside you, his cockhead spasming once as it shot out its last spurt of cum.

you laid there in the aftershocks, your thighs trembling around mingi's hips while your body rocked with every intake of breath, his chest moving steadily under your head. his release trickled out of you in small beads, mingi's cock still plugged inside your used cunt to keep the majority of it inside. gentle fingers squeezed at your hips, sliding upwards to your mid-back and down to soothe your aching muscles.

it was when sleep tugged your eyelids shut that mingi grew restless again, and through the thick haze of fatigue, you noticed his cock chubbing up inside you. your body slowly rolled sideways with mingi's until it made contact with the sheets, warm where he'd been laying. he towered over you, pressing his hips to yours with his glazed-over eyes fixed on your face.

"want you," he whimpered, one hand on your hip while the other cupped your face, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheekbone.

"mingi-"

"want you so bad, baby," he ground his cock inside you, biting his lip at the squelch of his cum between your walls. you moaned breathily at the feeling, your eyes finding mingi's before he leaned down to place another kiss to your forehead. "wanna see you swollen with my babies," he panted, his thumb finding your swollen clit and drawing slow circles over it. "gotta make sure I fill you up properly."

[slut4thebroken]

Exposure Therapy pt. 10

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jonathan Crane × reader

Summary | Jon let’s you go on a trip with him, then can’t control his weird, freaky sex fantasies lmaoo.

Warnings | 18+, sexual content, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, breeding, kissing, consensual sex, attempted sex trafficking?? (but like not really?), fear play (but consensual this time), actually everything’s consensual this time lol, masturbation, voyeurism, bondage, degradation, verbal humiliation, praise.

Words | 4.2k

Notes | Kinky smut ahead! Beware😼 I really played into the “he hates everyone but you” trope in this chapter and I’m so here for it.

Ao3 link | <3

Fic Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Part 9

“I’m going out to meet someone about something, I shouldn’t be gone long.” 

“Oh… okay. Can I come?” He examined you and after a while you couldn’t help but squirm under his gaze as you backtracked. “I- I don’t have to… I just,”

“Fine.” He suddenly said, making your face light up. 

“Really?” 

“Yes. Stop wasting time and get dressed or we’ll be late.”

“Sorry.” You hurried to change into your stolen clothes, looking a little odd next to him in a full suit. He instructed you to bring the wristband he gave you along with the gas mask and then you were leaving, walking along the docks closer to the water now. When he put his mask on, you did the same, not sure what to expect. 

“No talking.” He said quietly when a few guys were in your eyeline. You nodded in response, following him until he stopped in front of the men. 

“Didn’t know Scarecrow had a partner.” A man snickered. 

“Yeah, who’s your pet?” 

“Enough. Do you have what I need or not?” He snapped, voiced distorted by the modulator in the mask. 

“We got it. But I think we might want a different form of payment now.” The man in front smirked, the other men muttering agreements. 

“We had a deal.” 

“Yeah well, our terms changed.” He shrugged, eyeing you with a grin that made your stomach twist. 

“You’ll give me what I want and in exchange, you don’t want money, you want her?” He confirmed, making you stiffen. He wouldn’t… Would he?

“Yep. With a pretty thing like her, we’ll make plenty more than what you’re willing to give.” 

“Fine. We have a deal.” You turned to him with wide eyes, silently asking what the fuck he was doing, but he didn’t even glance at you. The main guy motioned to someone behind him who walked away to grab something. 

“C'mere, sweetheart. I wanna get a good look at you.” He sneered and your heart dropped to your stomach. Was he really going to do this?

“You can have her after I receive what I paid for.” He said sternly and as if on cue, the man returned holding a large briefcase. When the leader gestured, he handed it to the man by your side. He grabbed your arm and walked you closer to the men, making your heart rate and breathing speed up. Once he was in front of them, he pushed you forward and you landed against the leader with a startled grunt. 

“We’re gonna have some fun with you before we start selling you, don’t worry.” He smirked, making your blood run cold. Hands were running over your body as all of the men focused on you. When someone reached for the mask, a cloud of his toxin was suddenly surrounding you, making the men cough as they staggered back. A hand grabbing your arm made you jump and you turned, finding Jon pulling you away from them as they started screaming. 

You waited until you were back inside and he set the briefcase on the desk before saying anything. Starting with a shove, you ripped the gas mask off, letting it fall to the floor, then pushed him again, making him stagger back. 

“You— dick!” When you tried to push him again, his hands circled your wrists in a bruising grip. 

“Stop.” He warned, the modulator making him sound even more intimidating. “You’re mine.” He explained firmly. 

“That’s supposed to automatically make me assume that you’re not going to do what you literally said you would do?” You hissed, voice shaking from anger that was concealing fear. 

“Do you really think so little of me?” He asked, making you falter. He released your wrists then removed his mask. 

“You scared me.” You whispered with a frown. 

“I’m sorry.” He said, never breaking eye contact as you searched for any sign of a lie. “I had to improvise. If it’s any consolation, I’m planning to spend that money on a mattress for you.” He said softly, making your frown relax. 

“I’m sorry I called you a dick.” 

“You get a pass this time because I deserved it.” He chuckled and you couldn’t help but smile. “On the bright side, you seem to be coping with your fears much better now. Did you cry?” 

“No.” You furrowed your brows at his words. 

“How did you feel?” He asked, stepping into your space. 

“Scared.” You whispered. 

“Tell me about it.” He said lowly, eyes darkening with arousal. You swallowed thickly as you processed his request. 

“Tell you what?” 

“How it felt, what you were thinking. Tell me how scared you were.” He rasped and you could feel arousal pooling in your stomach from his tone. 

“I- I was shaking… and nauseous. I thought you- you… I didn’t want you to leave me with them.” You whimpered, giving him a pout that had no visible effect on him. “The last time I was that scared was when you used the toxin on me.” You whispered. He was suddenly pulling you into a kiss and you let out a startled moan as you landed against his body. He walked you back until your thighs hit the desk, then lifted you onto it, never breaking the kiss. Placing your hands in his hair, you pulled, making him groan against your lips. When he pulled back, you let out a low whine, trying to lean forward to chase his lips, but he stopped you by putting a hand on your neck. 

“Do you want me to fuck you?” He asked, tilting his head slightly to emphasize the question. When you nodded, he tightened his grip on your neck. 

“Yes.” You quickly corrected yourself. He set the mask next to your thigh on the desk, then brought his hand up to brush your hair behind your ear, keeping his hand near your face. Making sure you were watching, he placed his fingers only centimeters above the lever on the wristband he was wearing. You stiffened, swallowing thickly against his hand as you eyed the threat only inches from your face. 

“Are you scared?” He asked quietly, making your eyes snap to his. Despite the very obvious threat, you knew that he wouldn’t do it, especially because he wasn’t wearing a mask. 

“You wouldn’t gas yourself too.” You tried to sound brave and confident, but the tremble in your voice was obvious. His lips curled into a small smirk, making your stomach twist. 

“Smart girl.” He picked up the mask and put it on, then moved his hand back in front of your face. “What about now?” Your gaze moved between his hand and the icy blue eyes through the small holes in the mask. Even though, logically, you knew he wouldn’t because he told you before he couldn’t even if he wanted to… the threat was definitely still there. But instead of the nauseating twist, your stomach was twisting in a different way. A way that made your skin flush and your core ache. 

“Yes.” You whispered. 

“Do you want me to stop?” Your cheeks heated up and you looked away from him, embarrassed. 

“No.” Your voice was barely audible. The low chuckle he released behind the modulator made you shiver, not used to hearing something so ominous. He suddenly stepped back and you almost whined at the loss of his touch. 

“Strip.” He ordered, making your eyes widen. You tentatively slid off the desk onto the floor, then started undressing. Once you got to your underwear, you hesitated, but when he didn’t do or say anything, you slid them down your legs with a blush. “Sit on the desk again.” You obeyed and he stepped between your legs once you were seated, then placed his hands back the way they were, one on your neck, the other in front of your face. 

“Touch yourself.” Your eyes widened as you stared at him in surprise. When he moved his fingers closer to the lever though, you immediately brought your hand to between your legs. Staring through the holes in the mask, you watched as his eyes trailed down your body, focusing on the way you were rubbing your clit. 

“You like this don’t you?” He asked curiously, making your face flush. “Being at my mercy… Feeling humiliated, vulnerable.” He elaborated. “Knowing that what happens to you is under my control. It scares you, but it also excites you.” Letting out a shaky breath, you rubbed your clit faster, already feeling your orgasm growing. “I could use this at any moment and you’d have no choice but to take it.” You eyed his hand for a moment before looking back to his eyes. 

“Jon,” You whispered, voice barely audible. 

“No. Scarecrow.” Your eyes widened slightly, not expecting that request at all. “Say my name again and you’ll be punished. Understand?” You nodded, feeling breathless, but his hand tightened on your throat in a warning. 

“Yes.”

“Yes what?” 

“Yes, Scarecrow.” You whispered, cheeks flushing at the unfamiliar name for him. 

“Good girl.” He muttered, making your breath catch in your throat, still barely used to such praise. 

“Can I come please?”

“You think you deserve to?” You could only stare into his piercing gaze for another moment before you had to look away. 

“I- I don’t know.” You whined. When he suddenly stepped back and let his hands drop to his sides, you let out a heavy breath. 

“Get up.” He ordered as he started removing his tie. You obeyed and waited eagerly on shaky legs. “Turn around.” Once you were facing the desk, he pulled your hands behind your back and restrained your wrists with his tie. 

“Is this okay?” He asked quietly, voice no longer distorted. 

“Please don’t stop.” You whispered. The thought of him stopping was enough to bring tears to your eyes. 

“God you’re such a fucking slut, aren’t you?” His mask was back on now, modulator distorting his voice, making him all the more intimidating. He suddenly fisted your hair and yanked your head back, pointing the wristband at your face as he held you still. “I bet you want me to use this on you.” He snickered and you did your best to shake your head as you whined. 

“What was that?” He used his grip on your hair to push your head down and then back up, as if you were nodding. “‘Yes, scarecrow’? If you insist.”

“N-no,” You whimpered, pressing your body against his to try and escape the gas that could invade your senses at any moment.  

“No? I don’t know… Seems like you want it.” His hand moved from your hair to your neck, squeezing tightly and pulling your head back to rest on his shoulder. “You sure you don’t want just a small taste?” You could barely hear him behind the mask, even with his lips so close to your ear. 

“Please…” Your voice trembled in fear, but you still ached to keep touching yourself. 

“What if I said the only way I’d fuck you is if I got to have my fun? Are you desperate enough to sacrifice your sanity, my love?” You whimpered and squeezed your thighs together, just needing him to fuck you already. 

“Jon…” You whined, pushing your hips back into his, but his hand on your neck tightened significantly and he let out a low growl. 

“What did I say?”

“I- I’m sorry! Scarecrow! I meant Scarecrow— Please, I’m sorry.” You rushed out, worried you had pushed him far enough to follow through on his threat. 

“Poor thing…” He cooed mockingly. “You touch yourself for only a few minutes and already you’re too dumb to follow a simple order.”

“I’m sorry.” You cried, tears welling in your eyes, but from humiliation of the situation and his words, not because you were genuinely upset. 

“What do you think you’d see? You said you’re not scared of me anymore so what would you see, little one?” The hand with the wristband remained by your head, which made you stay planted to his shoulder. The other started dragging down your body, over your sternum, to your stomach, then teasing your thighs. 

“I- I don’t know…” You whined, squirming to try and get his hand where you wanted it. 

“No?” You shook your head with a whimper and his hand snaked back up to your stomach, teasingly rubbing the soft skin. “You don’t think you’d see yourself with my child? After all, a come hungry whore like yourself is bound to get pregnant at one point or another. It’s just a matter of time, isn’t it?” 

“J- …Scarecrow,” You whimpered, writhing against him. “Please.”

“Please what? Find out?” 

“No! Please— please fuck me.” He suddenly removed his hands from your body, then pushed you over the desk. Grabbing your hips, he pressed his covered bulge against your ass, teasingly grinding against you, making you even needier. 

“You want my cock?” 

“Yes,” You gasped out, pushing your hips back against him. He pulled back and you were about to complain, but quickly shut your mouth once you heard the rustling of his clothes as he freed his length. He swiped the head through your folds, making you jump at the sudden pleasure. 

“Beg.” 

“Please, Sc- …Scarecrow.” You whined, embarrassed. When he remained silent, you whined even louder. “Please! Please fuck me!” He relented and you choked on a gasp when he applied more pressure until the fat head of his cock was breaching your hole. He didn’t stop until his hips were flush to your ass, feeling so incredibly deep that you couldn’t tell if it hurt or not. 

“Fuck— oh my god.” You whimpered, clenching your fists behind your back as you struggled to adjust to his size. The low, distorted groan from behind you made you shiver. “Please!” You cried, trying to wiggle your hips under him. He slowly dragged his length out, then pushed back in at the same speed, maintaining that rhythm. 

“Shh, just take it. Be a good little flesh light, close that fuck hole, and just take my cock.” Despite the warning, your mouth remained open, loud moans slipping past your lips as your walls fluttered around him. “That’s a good whore— shit… Making me feel so good, little one.”

“Oh god- please,” You sobbed. He sped up a little, grabbing your hips tightly and holding you still as he rocked into you. “Faster.” You said through a moan and surprisingly, he obeyed. He sped up even more, pulling you back by your hips with each thrust until you were moaning uncontrollably and babbling out senseless pleas. He suddenly leaned over your body, his cock pushing against your cervix almost uncomfortably as he kept thrusting. 

“Can you hear how wet your fucking cunt is?” The distorted voice right next to your ear made you shiver as you let out a quiet whimper. You could hear it. The sound of your wetness was almost deafening, even with your moans and the sound of his hips hitting against your ass. “Such a fucking slut getting off on me threatening you.” As your knees buckled and weakened, you were glad the desk was holding your weight up. 

“You want it, don’t you? You want it so bad, your pussy is practically drooling for it.” He suddenly grabbed your hair and yanked your head back, aiming the wristband on his other hand at your face again. You let out a loud moan and he chuckled quietly. “Fuck- your pussy squeezes me so tight when I do this. How’d I get so lucky, huh? I mean, I have my own personal whore at my disposal. And not only is she desperate for my cock, but she’s desperate for my toxin as well.” You whined and shook your head, the humiliation and pain on your scalp making the tears in your eyes threaten to fall. 

“No..” 

“Yes.” He said simply. “You can deny it all you want, but your body knows what it wants.” 

“Scarecrow,” You sobbed, quickly approaching your orgasm. 

“I know, little one. It’s okay.” He cooed, moving his hand to your neck and lifting your torso off the desk, making you put your weight on your shaky legs. “Are you close?” You nodded rapidly with a loud moan as he kept fucking you, his cock feeling so much deeper in this position. 

“I’m going to count down from ten. If you don’t come, I’m going to use this.” He moved the hand with the wristband to your eyeline to make sure you knew what he was talking about. “Do you understand?” 

“Y-yes.” You whimpered. He sped up his thrusts significantly, making your release a startled moan. 

“Ten.” His hand on your neck tightened, making your head feel light and floaty from that and the pleasure. “Nine. Think you can do it little one?” You nodded with a whimper, already feeling incredibly close now. “Eight.” Through the modulator in the mask, you could hear the way he was starting to breathe heavily, nearing his own orgasm as well. 

“Seven… God- maybe I should just use it anyway. You’d look so pretty coming on my cock as your fears consumed you.” He said quietly, making you let out a choked sob.

“Please.” You cried. 

“Six. Do you want that, pretty girl?” 

“N-no.” You whimpered, but it wasn’t believable when you moaned before you could even finish getting the word out. 

“I think you do… Why else would you be squeezing me so damn tight? Five.” His thrusts turned frenzied as his own orgasm grew even closer. “I can’t wait to feel you milk my cock while you scream and writhe in fear. Four.” Even though you were still mostly sure he wouldn’t actually gas you, the more he spoke, the less confident you felt in your answer. Regardless, it was hard to focus on— hard to care— with his cock pistoning in and out of you, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. 

“Three. I hope you’re close.” You nodded as much as you could with his hand on your neck. “Yeah, I can tell. I can feel it… Two.” Your breathing grew rapidly, from fear or arousal you weren’t sure. 

“Ready?”

“Please— please, oh god.. please let me come.” You cried, trying to make yourself come, but struggling without his explicit permission. 

“One. Come, baby. Squeeze my fucking cock like your life depends on it, because it does.” You let out a loud sob that turned into a moan when the knot of arousal in your stomach finally snapped. He fucked you through it, hand tightening on your neck as he held you close, fully pressed to his body. “That’s it. Do a good job and make me come.”

“Oh god,” You sobbed walls fluttering around his length, making his hips stutter. “Please- please come. I need it… Need you to fill me up.” You whined as the tears in your eyes finally started to fall. They weren’t from fear, but rather desperation with a hint of overstimulation as you came down from your orgasm. His hand moved from in front of your face to around your stomach, pulling up against his body as he rutted into you eagerly. 

He stilled with a low, distorted groan and you could feel his cock twitching against your walls as he obeyed your request. You panted heavily, doing your best to ignore the new fire growing in your belly as he moaned and whined, trying to bury himself even deeper in your warmth. 

When he finally stilled and his moans died down, he removed his hand from your neck and wrapped it over your chest, still holding you against him. 

“Jon?” You asked quietly, making him startle as if he forgot you were there. He took the mask off, then pushed your hair behind your ear to place a kiss on your neck. 

“Are you okay?” He mumbled against your skin, both of you still panting. 

“Better than okay. But if you let me go, my knees are going to give out and I’m definitely going to fall.” He chuckled quietly as he stayed buried in your neck for only a moment longer before reluctantly pulling back. 

“Let me help you onto the desk, then I’ll carry you to the couch, okay?” You nodded and he maneuvered you to sit on the desk, both of you wincing when he pulled out. He settled between your legs then reached around behind you to undo his tie. “I wasn't too rough?” He discarded the fabric on the desk then lightly grabbed your wrists to pull them in front of you and massage them gently. 

“I loved it, Jon. Honestly. It was perfect.” He didn’t respond and instead just wrapped your legs around his hips to lift you and carry you over to the couch. He gently laid you down then took off his shirt and pants, laying them neatly over the back of the couch. When he grimaced as he started tucking his softening cock, still wet from your arousal, back in his underwear, you stopped him. You moved forward enough to wrap your lips around it, moaning at your combined tastes. 

“What— oh fuck… What are you doing?” He asked, hissing as you licked his sensitive cock. After a few more licks, you pulled back, giving him a saccharine smile. 

“There. All clean.” You said, tucking his semi back in his underwear. 

“Tease.” He muttered with a small smile, laying down and pulling you into him. He was quiet for a while as he stroked your hair and let you trail your fingers over his torso, but eventually he broke the silence. “Are you sure it was okay? I didn’t mean to do all of that. I- I shouldn’t… have done all of that. Not when you were on the verge of tears after what happened.” Honestly, you had forgotten about what happened until he mentioned it. You leaned up so he could look into your eyes as you spoke. 

“I loved it, Jon. We’ve never.. done anything like that,” You meant the consensual part of consensual non consent, “and I really really liked it. It was fucking hot.” He didn’t react to your confession as he studied you carefully, searching for the hidden truth behind your words. “And honestly, you made me a little curious about how your toxin would affect someone who’s that horny. Almost enough to make me want to try it.” 

“Are you mad?” He asked in disbelief, making your cheeks flush in embarrassment. 

“I- I just… It would be interesting to study, don’t you think?” You said sheepishly, feeling more foolish the longer he looked at you like you truly belong in Arkham. “Sorry… Forget I said anything.” You laid back down, feeling incredibly embarrassed. 

“I was only referring to you wanting to try it yourself.” He explained. “I didn’t mean to offend you.” 

“It was stupid anyway. I’ll leave the sciencey things to you from now on.” You tried to lighten the mood, but your tone didn’t convey the lightheartedness you meant for it to. 

“Would you like to be involved in the.. sciencey things?” You were only mostly sure he wasn’t making fun of you. “You can’t help with the chemistry behind it obviously, but if you want to be involved in the rest, I wouldn’t mind.” 

“I- I don’t know… I didn’t handle myself very well tonight. It’s probably not a good idea.” You muttered despondently. 

“Can I ask you something?” You nodded in response. “Was that the first time you’ve ever attended an illegal deal as a fugitive?” 

“…Yes?” Obviously it was. 

“That is my point. You’ve never done anything like that before, of course you didn’t handle it very well.”  

“Oh. Yeah I guess that’s true.” You trailed off into silence as your thoughts consumed you. Should you? It sounds… not necessarily fun, but like it could be something you wouldn’t exactly hate. You’d get to spend more time with him too. 

“Think about it for a while.” He said, dragging you out of your thoughts. 

“Okay.” You sighed. Then, “Jon?” He hummed, telling you to continue. “Why did you take off your clothes when you were already dressed?” You asked, continuing trailing your fingers over his bare chest. You didn’t mind it— not even a little bit. You were just curious. 

“I assumed you’d prefer it.” He said simply, minding his tone. 

“Why do you think that?” You asked, then, “Not that you’re wrong— I’m just wondering.” He let out a quiet sigh and you laid your palm flat against his chest to feel his heart that was beating only slightly faster than normal. 

“Because I prefer it.” His heart pounded faster and harder, but so did yours. “It’s different like this than being dressed.” Jealously, you wondered who else he’s laid like this with. Surely with any previous girlfriends, maybe even his mom. But at the same time, you’re not sure if you believe that. The way he expresses physical touch is almost awkward, unpracticed, as if he doesn’t have any previous experience laying with anyone but you. While the thought made your stomach flutter, it also made your chest ache with sympathy. “Falling asleep on me?” He suddenly asked. 

“No- sorry. Just thinking.” You said quietly, picking up the motions of your fingers against his chest again. You couldn’t believe that Jonathan Crane— the Scarecrow— was such a softy. But not just a softy in general- only for you. The thought was enough to make you almost nauseous with butterflies. 

Part 11

Taglist

@arcanebabe @quietnymph11 @dynamitehacke @pedrisgatorade @mandowhatnow @thefandomdiaries07 @itsalwaysbetternottoknow @mrkdvidal1989 @nx-0w @yrluvvr @arieslost @some-clever-username @itsalwaysbetternottoknow @geekmom3 @pleasant-meadow (didn’t let me tag —>) @imlikefrhungry @melanieani @oopy @slay-walker @annalauras-stuff @anakin-dilf @riddler-zs @tumblin-theworldaway @fire-treasure-iii @ephiiphanyy

[neoarchipelago]

Torn between :

Simon Riley who doesn't not/fears to have children because of his last trauma and hating his father. It's terrifying to him and it'll take a LOT of therapy to even consider having children. It's complicated to even see himself being a father.

And

Simon Riley who, every time he sees you, he sure wants you to be the one for the rest of his life. And he remembers how happy his brother was with his wife and little Joseph, just wants to have babies with you. He's scared but he wants to do better, and he is sure that he'll be better, because this is half of him and you. He'll love him/her like it's the only thing he breathes for. So he waits, he keeps the idea in mind, that only sleeps past his lips when he's buried deep inside your sweet cunt, praising and cooing about how he's going to fill you up with his cum.

And then he keeps it in mind, until he pops the question, until he sees you walk to the altar, until the first dance is over, until he's in the private plane offered by Laswell, going to the honeymoon in a secret place Price offered. Until he walks into the hotel room, holding you in his arms. Up to the point he slowly undresses you, eating you up like a madman until you're left shaking and sobbing. And perhaps it's a low blow but he slips his cock past your folds, slowly, raw, feeling you stretch around his fat cock as he coos:

"gonna make you mommy love? Do you want that?"

And you're already a mess because he had too much fun with you before even splitting you open. You register the words, not truly the full consequences of your answer though.

"y-yes... please... please..."

And he's gone.

You barely sleep that night. You wonder how that man has so much cum cuz you're left dripping every time. He cleans you up gently after, making sure to finger his cum back into you.

And it's the first try... cuz as soon as he's home his baby fever is off the roof. But he doesn't know that the first try was all it took. Cuz your next period isn't here, cuz he's in shock and ready to cry when he sees you, tears stained face as you hold a hand over your mouth and the over a small test with two bars clearly marked.

And then he's almost unbearable for the next 9 months. He tells Price first, and then the rest of the boys. They visit you back home with gifts, that Simon makes a point of checking each of them. This stuffed bear has buttons he needs to take them off, the baby might choke, etc etc.

The labor, he's in internal panic, but his military training and the love he has for you build up a facade of care and calm that helps you, oh so much, for your first delivery, that was long and exhausting.

It's all worth it for the look Simon gives your baby, holding them, skin to skin. He looks up at you, tears rolling down his cheeks, chanting 'thank you' again and again. It brings you to tears every time.

The way he looks at you when you're breastfeeding makes you blush and feel adored at the same time. You asked him once why he does it and he says:

"you're doing such a good job mama... feeding our little cub like that... fuck, it's going to grow big and strong, you're perfect."

You fight the urge to throw a pillow at him as you blush madly. You hold your baby too carefully to even consider moving.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Me right now because of my hormones:

[pondering-gales-left-orb]

i will not accept shane spouse room slander anymore im sick of it

I'm so mad at everyone who is mad at Shane's spouse room and i cant keep silent about it anymore

let me start by saying yes Shane was my first ever spouse in SDV and no i was not thinking i could fix him i was just impressed by his progress and self improvement so i had my character marry him

then i went online to see what are people saying about him and i was SHOCKED everyone was so mean to him and were absolutely wronggggggggggg about him

this man does improve himself he absolutely is better after marriage and everyone that's mischaracterizing that because of his spouse room is a coward sorry i don't make the rules

facts: Shane goes to therapy and starts getting his alcoholism under control by eliminating the source of his pain which is wasting his life away at joja and doing something he loves which is raise blue chickens THAT HE MADE MIGHT I ADD HE INVENTED A NEW BREED OF CHICKENS BTW. that last point alone pisses me of so hard because people so often over look it! he is just as smart as Maru just as creative as Eliot and just as ambitious as Sam, let me repeat myself HE INVENTED A NEW BREED OF CHICKEN WHILE HE WAS DEPRESSED AND SUFFERING OF ALCOHOLISM.... recognize his brilliance please

so that means people saying he falls back into his old habits because he has a six pack in his room is wrong, imo he stops being an alcoholic and goes back to having drinking be a hobby he does while gaming or hanging out with friends at the bar THAT'S THE POINT UR SUPPOSED TO GET FROM HIS HEART EVENTS

yes his room has mud tracks but consider this this man's WHOLE JOB is to RAISE CHICKENS IN A COOP !!!!! chickens who again he literally invented their breed who track mud shit and drop feed on the floor of the coop he is in all day!!! OF FUCKING COURSE HES GONNA HAVE MUD ON HIS SHOES!!

he works all day for his blue chickens and then just wants to come in and relax playing a video game and drinking a beer if he was a horrible dirty alcoholic like people claim he is he would track mud ALL OVER THE HOUSE AND DIRTY UP ALL THE HOUSE but no its just his tiny hobby room

you as a farmer also work all day on chores and after you are done you also just wanna do something fun to relax and guess what YOU HAVE THE ENTIRE HOUSE EVERY ROOM IN THE HOUSE TO MAKE INTO YOUR HOBBY ROOM some of you fill the house with kegs because you are making it your thing hell one of my farmers who was a witch had an entire room that's just crystals potions and a fucking cauldron , in my Shane save i had a room LINED with fish tanks that was my farmers Hobby, do you think Shane gets mad that i had 4 to 6 fish tanks running all day with puffer fishes and some legendary fishes stinking up the house?? NO because he gets his hobby room and the farmer gets their hobby room everyone keeps to their space period.

i think everyone needs to understand that having a messy hobby room is not a bad thing and that Shane and the other spouses have a right to their own room to look however they want and it doesn't have to match the house

everyone also needs to look at Shane in a better light please I'm begging you to let characters have small flaws and not be squeaky clean perfect

Shane sought help he is helping himself and trying to be better but that doesn't mean he doesn't get to indulge in some guilty pleasures he is human and is aloud to be one even while still in recovery! the difference now is that he HAS CONTROL OVER ALCOHOL AND GAMING CONSUMPTION AND IS NOT SPIRALING OUT OF CONTROL LIKE BEFORE he has job he loves a family he takes care of and he makes sure he doesn't dirty up his entire house but gives himself a break in his ONE room and doesn't stop himself form having fun doing the things he enjoys without over indulging or falling into bad habits.

Edit: i know in the end the drinks are non alcoholic as confirmed by him and i mentioned beer and drinks cause i know there is non alcoholic Versions of them som.. but as i said im adressing the MISSCHARACTERIZATION of shane by the shane haters who didn't go through his heart events hence me saying "you are supposed to learn all this from his heart events" cause they dont go through them :D

Anyway,

in conclusion SHANE IS GOOD SPOUSE, a good man and an inventor in his own right. yall just need to be gentle to him in your judgment cause man is he trying his earnest and that needs to be recognized. i mean look at him look at this healthy man <3

[idesofrevolution]

The Journey of Dr. Santana Fabrega

There's nothing quite like your bro slobberin' over your sweaty feet while tokin' on a hookah. Let me just tell you- everybody's happy. I'm stoked to be stoned and minty fresh, and he's happy to taste my ripe size 12's. Who isn't the happiest? The folks. Sure, I dropped out of college, sure I started focusing one hundred percent on my art, sure I have a parade of guys out of my little basement lair... but I never got why they had to be such fuckin' buzzkills.

Ever since they joined that church when I was at uni, my parents have been sucked into the Evangelical cult. Not the whole lifting your hands up to Jesus & speaking in tongues sort of church, by the way. Man, they're out there with picket signs at sex clinics, bannin' books at the high school, all that crazy fuckin' Christian Nation bullshit. They're my parents, so I love 'em and whatever. But fuck, those psychos really fucked 'em up. So now, their crusade is "curing" me of my gayness. Didn't really matter that I'm pan, they don't really know the difference. They don't really care about the difference, though. Not straight, not right.

So when they caught me the other day with Sam cleanin' my dick in the basement, it was World War 3. Man, a Nuclear Bomb would have less energy than my mom's hysterical shrieking. It's Florida, so it's nothing the neighbors haven't heard before. But, shit. I thought my eardrums were gonna pop. They stomped off upstairs, bein' all 'we are going to talk about this later, Santiago.' So, I let Sammy finish up, I pulled on some shorts and I went upstairs to face the fire while he snuck out the basement window. Fuck, I wished I were him.

The 'family meeting' went about as well as you'd expect. Threats of burning in hell for all eternity, demands that I find the Lord, etc. Apparently he doesn't like a lot of things about me: my weed, my tattoos, my sexuality, my piercings, my hair for some reason? I don't know man, I just tuned out after a while. What I did catch, though, they were sending me to substance abuse counseling. Couldn't help but laugh, and that sent dad through the fuckin' roof.

"Doctor Fabrega is going to teach you some manners, young man. Make you a Godly man, like you should be." Yada yada yada. He should have known better than to give me the doc's name. After the ass reaming, I made my way back downstairs to the computer. It took five minutes of research to find this Doctor Fabrega. Turns out he's a Christian Therapist, but that wasn't what was most interesting. Down in his specializations, buried beneath substance abuse & cognitive behavioral therapy was a word that caught my eye: licensed Hypnotherapist.

I knew exactly what kind of bullshit they were tryin' to pull on me. But when I was enrolled at U Miami, my major was Psychology. Not only that, but I still happened to have access to the university library. Oops.

I texted Sammy, knowing I was gonna be up all night doing research, and that my dick would need some appropriate attention under the desk. I was gonna show this motherfucker just how sick it really is to be like me.

---

The waiting room was bullshit. Cold white walls, bright wood floors... It looked straight out of an IKEA ad. I'd already been there for like 20 minutes past my appointment time, giving me just enough time to scroll through the last chapter on my phone. I hear the receptionist call out my name, and I head toward the office. Just as bullshit as the waiting room. It's like the guy wants to live in a psych ward- no color anywhere. At least get a blacklight or something.

"Santiago Rivera. Welcome, I'm Dr. Fabrega." The guy was hot as fuck, not gonna lie. Looked like he was straight out of Sao Paulo- even with the fancy suit you can't hide muscle like that. "Please, sit. It's so good to meet you." His voice was so weird. Speaking every word with like, perfect diction. You know those AI voices that talk that way? That's what it was like, as if he were trying so hard to hide an accent underneath.

"Just call me Santi, doc." I plopped down on the leather chair, might have put my feet up on his coffee table (don't recall), and he just looked at me like he was looking in a microscope. No idea what the deal was. He walked over to the couch and sat down with my file and started to drone on.

"Alright, Santi, it says here that your parents are pretty concerned about your behavior lately. You're 23 years old and a college dropout, you take illicit drugs, you have no job, and you're having unnatural thoughts. That's quite the list, bud." He was so fuckin smug, that sort of punchable glibness that only comes from a particular kind of self righteousness. Like Jesus himself came down and kissed them.

"So, first off. I did drop out of college, because I couldn't afford it. Second, I sure the fuck do smoke green because it's a) fun, and b) prescribed to me by my real doctor. Third, I do have a job. I do graphic design and graffiti art and I pay my own bills with it. And last off, yup: I fucked him." He sat there, somehow shocked that I told him how it was right off the bat. I'm not playing his little game, and that made him angry.

"I see. So you have no remorse for any of this? I believe your parents are very right to be concerned about where your life is headed."

"Fascinating, considering I'm moving out at the end of the month and they won't need to deal with my life. So. You married?" He was thrown off by that, just as I'd hoped. Right out of the blue. Knocks them off kilter for a second. An easy question to answer, so they usually do.

"Uh, well, no I'm not married. Is that your concern in all this?" Man, I couldn't help but laugh. He's trying to be sarcastic?

"Where did ya go to school for... whatever this is." This made him close my file, he even put it on the table and crossed his arms.

"I went to Liberty University, top of my class in their Doctor of Psychology program. You, it seems didn't make it that far, so you might not know what 'this' is." Oooh, he's big mad. I thought, let's push it. I did what most of my guys love, but would piss him off, I kicked off the Vans. Made sure I wore my skating shoes that day, the super ripe ones with the same damp socks. When they came off, those puppies let their presence be known.

"Sounds boring. Boring then, boring now. I got accepted into the Art Institute in Savannah, so I'll be headed that way soon. Be legit soon, then you wouldn't have anything to say. How's your sex life?" He thought he was so tough, not flinching at the musk, nor my question. But I knew both hit him right where I wanted. The question to make him mad, the stink to get him hot.

"Santiago, I think we should continue with our session. You can put your shoes back on and we can try some exercises to help you think a bit more clearly." I crossed my ankles, wriggling my toes a bit.

"I think they need some air. Are you gonna try and hypnotize me now? Or is that the last ditch effort when everything else fails?" He leaned back in his seat, the grimace growing stronger. "That stuff is not that hard to master. A couple days really and you got it down."

"Is that so?" He ground his teeth as he spat out his words. "It seems you know all there is to know, then." Time to hit it home.

"You know what, let's put money on it, doc. Hundred bucks says I can put you under." I got him, his eyebrow shifted just enough for me to see.

"This isn't a casino, Santiago. I don't bet money on client's health." I couldn't help but smirk. He left an opening I couldn't pass up.

"Aight, no money then. If I put you under, I get the bragging rights. If I don't, I'll play your stupid games. Win-win for you, nothing to lose but your dignity." Hook, line and sinker; he leaned in, grabbing the remote on the table next to him. He tapped a button, and the shades started to come down.

"Well then, Mr. Rivera. I wish you luck."

The room got dark. Really fuckin' dark. Fabrega hit another button on the remote, and a cool blue washed over the room. Gotta say, tight LED system. I kicked my shoes off the table, and scooted my chair forward. Showtime.

"Alright, Santana, I want you to just take deep breaths." He squirmed at my use of his first name, one last dig before I brain fucked him. He took his deep breaths one at a time, slowly getting deeper and deeper. "As I count down from one to ten, each number will bring you closer and closer to relaxation. Picture a long tunnel, at the end, a bright white light. With every number, you take a step forward to the light, do you understand?"

He nodded, it was an induction I'd made up this morning. I started from 10, telling him his first step he could feel the tingling relaxation in the tips of his fingers, slowly crawling up his hands and forearms. 9. Another step, the tingling creeps up his big muscly arms and shoulders. 8. One more step, the tingling is pushing up his neck and throat, reaching his tongue and teeth. 7. The tingling bursts into his head, a paradoxical rush of relaxation, a fog of dissonance washes over his brain as thoughts collide and crash about. 6. The tingling washes down his spine, flowing through his nerves into every part of his body. His body feels electric, a painless jolt running throughout him. I watched as he tensed up, his big muscles contracting and bunching him up. It was working.

We get to 5, starting at the crown of his head, the volts decrease, turning lugubrious and liquified like molasses sloshing about in his head. 4. The light is so close he can feel the heat, but his body is cooled as the syrupy fluid flows down over him like a waterfall, pooling in his big feet as it fills every crevice. 3. It feels as if he's trudging through mud toward the light, his legs feeling wobbly and gelatinous. 2. So close, his whole body feels like a massless blob, inching toward the final drop into the cavernous light. 1. He crawls toward the ledge, plummeting down into the endless void of bright white light. There, he will sit as I have a little bit of fun.

"Alright, Santana. Can you hear me in there?" Fabrega nods, expressionless. Fuck, that was maybe a 80/20 chance I was gonna fuck this shit up so bad. But I guess God really is on my side here. "Whenever I ask a question, you will answer truthfully. Whatever I say you will incorporate into your life. Now, Santana, what do you do when you're not at work?" His lips moved slowly and replied in monotone.

"I go to the gym, I go to the golf course, I hire my date, and I go home." Ooooh shit. He's giving my friends on the corners a decent living, good for him. Hardly a Godly thing to do. Either way, it was a perfect place to start.

"You love going to the gym, don't you, Santana?" He nodded. "You love gettin' all sweaty don't you?" His head began to shake, his expression furrowing a bit in disgust. "No, Santana. You love getting all sweaty. The feeling of those cool droplets on your hot muscles during a hard workout? Doesn't it feel good?" He pauses, before reluctantly nodding. Ahh I love gettin my fingers in his brain, never ceases to please. "You love that funk that comes off your sweat, Santana. You love sniffin your pits, your big feet, your balls... That musk means you're workin' hard. Keeping in shape. Staying virile. Isn't that right?" He nodded, squirming in the chair. I watched his body try to reject the instructions, try to rebel, but just one repetition had his back to stillness.

"You don't even like golf, do you?" He nodded, I didn't even need to manipulate him. "You much prefer hitting the beach, don't you? Seein' all the guys and gals starin' at your glorious bod... You love it, don't you?" He nodded, the side of his lip curling ever so slightly. "You love bringing out the speedo, letting the goods hang low, letting the buns bulge... you know they all wanna see it anyway..." He nodded again, it was like taking candy from a baby. The guy had the mental fortitude of a frog.

"You like fucking, too. You can have any girl or guy on the street with a single wink." He nodded, and I couldn't help but watch as his groin started to bulge. "Yeah, boy. You love taking that horse cock and plowing it into some ass... plowing it into some pussy... fucking their pretty little mouths..." Drool started to drip from the corner of his lip, and a little wet spot quickly appeared on his pants. "You're a freak, aren't you, Santana? You like fuckin' in the car, in the sauna, at the gym, under the desk... gushing gallons into them while you shove your sneaker on their face." He was moaning, slowly grinding against the open air. Can't lie, I was gropin' myself a bit just watching him.

"Now, Santana. I'm going to bring you back to your office, but when I do, you are going to be super laid back and chill with Santi during your sessions. If he says the word 'sniff' you will return to this space, return to an open mind, just as we have done here today. Do you understand?" He nodded one final time before I began his emergence. Counting back from one to ten, I watched as he slowly came back to the real world, and with one snap, he blinked his eyes and wiped his brow.

"Well, doc. I got the bragging rights." Fabrega pinched the bridge of his nose, as if he had a headache. Time to see if it had all paid off.

"Uhh... yeah... Santi. You got me there..." Perfect. He pulled his hand away from his nose, clicking the shades back up to their little hole. It didn't take long until he saw the wet patch on his bulbous package. He chuckled under his breath. "You'll have to excuse the mess, Santi... I have hyperspermia, so sometimes it all just flows out." Hot- and totally unprofessional. Just how I like 'em. I leaned back in my chair, smirkin' the whole way.

"Damn, doc. Firehose down there. Gonna have to show me sometime." He smirked and waved me off.

"I don't fraternize with clients, Santi. Oh, look at the time. I'm late for my 5:30. Alright, I'll see you next week." He stood up, extending his hand, his whole demeanor entirely changed. I slipped my Vans back on, spitting on my hand before gripping his. He shuddered a bit, sure. But we were gonna get real close, real quick.

---

The next few days flew by. My folks were so excited to see that I was looking forward to seeing Dr. Fabrega, and I loved knowing what they didn't. I was excited to see if Dr. Fabrega was gonna be Santana. So when I finally got back in for my appointment, I didn't need to wait long at all. Only five minutes and the door swung open, the receptionist completely flustered. The anticipation was killing me. She sat down behind her computer with tunnel vision and I walked into the office.

At first, I thought it was empty. He wasn't sitting at his desk, on the couch... but as I heard huffing from the balcony, I knew where to find him. I walked up to the sliding glass door, and turned outside to see one hell of a sight.

It was Santana. Nothing on but his whitie-tighties and his damp socks doing pushups on the bench. Fuck, those muscles were glistening in the light, his underwear with damp patches on his ass and bulge. His clothes sat in a pile near his head: jeans, a Miami Heat jersey, some sick dunks I wanted to steal... far from the stuffy suit he had on just the week before. He finally noticed me, and smiled.

"Santi! Hey! Just finishing up my lunch workout. Thought I'd get a session in today on the balcony. Damn, the fresh air is good for exercise!" I smirked. It was night and day. So far, gone was the bible thumping hypocrite, and here was what was underneath. If anything I was doing him a service.

"Shit, Santana! You're looking prime today. You gonna funk out our session today, or?" I punched him in the shoulder, and he giggled like a kid.

"It's eau naturale, my friend. Natural water. That's what it smells like." He slipped on his jeans and his big fuckin' sneakers, tossing the jersey over his head while we walked in. He trailed some deliciously ripe musk, and I couldn't help but savor a bit of it. We plopped down on our seats, and just started shootin' shit. I bitched about the parents, he bitched about his receptionist, I told him about Sammy suckin' my dick clean, and he told me about the threesome with a gym bro and his girlfriend. He was coming along beautifully. Though, I thought to myself, how's about a round two?

"Dude, by the way, those kicks are fuckin' tight." I pointed to the dunks, which he smugly kicked up onto the coffee table, showing them off.

"Thanks, man. They're the lifting shoes. My work boots, heh." I reached out, grabbing ahold of his foot, and yanked it off. He chuckled like a fuckin' idiot while I looked at 'em. Size 13, nice and big- and the smell wafting out of there... Fuck, man.

"Damn, dude you never wash your socks? These stink!" I playfully tossed the shoe at him, and just as he started to brush off the comment, I said my magic word. "Sniff it." Like a flipped lightswitch, his expression turned numb, slowly bringing the shoe to his nose and inhaling his own musk. I clapped my hands, rubbing them together: let's do a little more programming.

"Santana, You're a pretty chill guy, you know that?" He nodded. "You smoke, don't you? You know, the good shit?" Deep in his mind, he had to know it was me talking at this point, so I was talking to him like a bro. Establishes trust, ya know? He shook his head no. "Ahh, come on man. You love kickin' back and toking on that reefer after a long workout." Santana chuckled a bit, before nodding, still nose deep in his sneaker. "Yeah, you love smokin' out your bros, your babes... when you're not shootin' tequila!" He full out laughed on that one, nodding along. The sneaker slowly dropped from his hand, and he laid back in his chair.

"How old are you, Santana?"

"28." Shit, he was only a few years older than me. I mean, he looked young. But hell, you wouldn't have known it from the way he acted.

"Where are you from?" "Rio de Janeiro." Interesting. I clocked the accent. I was pretty proud of myself.

"Why do you try so hard to hide it? The way you talk, the way you dress, the way you act... You act like you're from Ohio." Another chuckle, I should have had a Netflix special. "You're gonna embrace that Brazilian pride, bro. Don't hide it for some mayo drinking buzzkills!" He furrowed his brow, nodding intently. This one was for his own fuckin' good. Be proud of that shit! "You should get some ink to really embrace it. Nothin' sexier than a tatted up stud, am I right?" He nodded again, his bulge once more springing to life. I smirked, simply wanting to know a little something somethin'.

"Do you think Santi is hot?" He sat there for a second, before slowly smiling and nodding. I didn't even need to program that one. Aww, big old himbo. "You're not afraid to let him know, are ya? I mean if you tell his crazy fuckin' parents that he's cured... He wouldn't be your patient anymore... Right?" His bulge twitched again, and he smirked devilishly as he nodded. "You like it when he's all up in your brain, don't you? You like it when he gets his dick deep in there and mind fucks you into a chill, laid back stud. Don't ya?" The dampness grew and his breath got heavy. He nodded, drooling down the sides of his cheeks. "Yeah, you wanna let him in completely, don't ya? Make you like him?" Moans grew, and his thrusting in the air quickened pace. "You wanna be best bros with him, don't ya? Bros with benefits... hangin' out, smokin' weed, hittin' the clubs, swappin' spit... swappin' cum... swappin' subs..." He started fuckin' howl. He was beggin' to splurge. "When I tell you, you will cum. And when you do, everything we talked about will be your truth. Now... Cum."

His eyes opened, still moaning loudly. He gripped onto his jeans, pulling down the waistband and underwear, that big old uncut donkey dick flopping out before shooting his load all over himself. Volley after volley. He wasn't kidding about the hyperspermia: maybe four double shots of his spunk sprayed like a geyser into the air. The 8th Natural Wonder of the World. He laid back and chuckled, throwing his arms behind his head.

"Fuck, brother!" The thickest accent flowed of those lips, deliciously thick. "After today, that'll be down your throat, cara." He pointed at me, hopping to his feet and shoving his python back into his pants. "So, I'll write your discharge papers, it'll get the pais off your back. Act the part until you're out, and just go live." Fuck yeah, we high fived, and I ruffled that sweaty mullet of his. "Hey, come over tonight. I got some friends comin' over... if you and Sammy wanna join." He winked and slapped my back. Damn, I did good.

"I'll be there, man! You save me a round so I can show you how to clean this dick." I groped my bulge, smirking as his bit his lip and winked. I've created a monster.

---

"Ei, sexy! Come get a toke before it's gone!" Such a demanding little bitch, I love him. I slipped his filled condom off my cock, the kinky fucker insisted, and I happily complied. If I'm being real, this psycho has taught me things! I flushed it down the toilet, and swung the bathroom door open to see him lounging on his bed, toking away at the blunt I packed.

"Hey you fuckin' hog, don't you smoke it all!" He chuckled dumbly, reaching over to hand me the blunt, taking the opportunity to snatch my wrist and pull me forward into a kiss. Fuck those lips were so good, pressed against mine or around my cock. "Isn't Carrie coming over soon? You gonna be able to get off so quick?" I pushed away, taking my puff.

"Ahh, plenty to go around, eh?" He groped that musky bulge that I had a feeling Sammy would be huffing later. "Ey, bring me my pants. We can go get a shot before she gets here." Heh, the last month or so crashing with him has been fuckin' sick. The folks think I'm rooming with some guy from the church, when really I'm gooning with my therapist every night in his bed. Savannah is letting me take online courses, I'll have my B.A. in a couple of years, and I'm already getting some gallery hits. Santana is gonna be my armcandy for the opening, and I told him to forget his deodorant. Fuck he’s perfect. But a thought had crept in my head the other day. One last program, one final idea planted in his head... Though, at this point, there was no need to put him under. I'd just ask him.

"Hey, so I gotta go to Georgia to finish up some paperwork at the school. It got me thinking... I'm followin' my dream. What about you?" I tossed him his pants and passed the blunt, taking a deep whiff of those ripe dunks before throwing them his way too.

"I could go back to the practice, though I think the bible thumpers would lose their minds, heh."

"Well... What we did for eachother... What if you did it for others?" I slowly got down to my knees, a smirk crawling across my face. "What if you could help those poor... misguided young men change their lives?" I crawled toward him, spreading his legs wide as I tossed his legs over my shoulders. "Wouldn't that be so... so... fun?" I slowly pulled down his musky briefs, releasing his monstrous cock again, the musky hooded beast slapping me on my cheek. "Then, we could have so... many... new.. friends..." I pulled down his slimy hood and wrapped my lips around his tip. I should have known better. His hand grabbed the back of my head, slamming it down onto his spear, my nose buried in his bush as he thrust back and forth into my mouth.

"Unff... Yeah, brother... Oh yeah... That sounds like a good... unhhhhh... good idea." Grunting, slapping, moaning, slurping... it all rang out in his room, until he gushed another thick load down my throat. "You wanna join me?" And in that moment, I smiled. It was the best idea he'd had yet.

[cubarsis]

Baecation | p. cubarsí paredes

— Synopsis : Pau took his girlfriend with him for vacation, of course he can’t resist showing her off to the world!

— SMAU

— pure fluff

liked by fcbarcelona, marcguiu9, hctorforrt_ and 367,569 more

tagged : yourusername

paucubarsi: escaped barna with the loml 😽

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user1 : Bro be living the dream since his mvp award

yourusername : real but as he should

user2 : Pau where do we find a girl like urs

paucubarsi : simply can’t find another woman like that, try going for your best mates sister for the thrill

user2 : 🫡🫡

fcbarcelona : Looks like Pau is enjoying some well-deserved downtime with his girlfriend! They look so happy together 💑

liked by paucubarsi

marcguiu9 : damn you went without us ??

paucubarsi : lo siento hermano 💔💔

paufan : hard to be sad when I see Pau and his gf posting on ig

ynfan : real I love them more than they love each other

user3 : free therapy I swear

yourusername : my man

paucubarsi : proud to be 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

likey by paucubarsi, lamineyamal and 2,074 others

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yourusername : impossible to separate him

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user9 : Okay, Pau and his girl make us straight-up all wish we were on vacay with them 🌴

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lamineyamal : cuteness overload 🤭😻💞💞

paucubarsi : please just shut up 😭

lamineyamal : freak

paustan : Yasss! Even ballers need some downtime, and they’re slaying it!

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yourbestfriend : adorbs!!!

yourusername : told ya he looks better irl than on those pictures back then

paucubarsi : 👎👎

iloveyn : yn and her man = ultimate couple crush

user3 : I want both it them so fucking bad

user 4 : ikr?? She gorgeous asf, he a cutie, what do we want else

liked by hctorforrt_, ilovepau, pablogavi and 405,007 others

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paucubarsi : love it here, and even more with my woman 🤍

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yourusername : pauipookie stop, you’re making me actually gonna tear up from this 🙁

paucubarsi : I love you so much

yourusername : we’re in the same room, stop texting me and give me a kiss

liked my paucubarsi

paucubarsi : 🫡

pauandyn : the way he calls er 'his woman' 😭😭 he’s so boyfriend and husband

user7 : if they break up I ain’t gonna believe in love any longer istg

hctorforrt_ : sexy

paucubarsi : me or my girl ?

hctorforrt : both.

marcguiu1 : my son is growing up so fast, bagged a girl and already out the country with her 😪

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user10 : this guy mad ugly she could do so much better 💀

yourusername : you better sleep with one eye open lil bro 😭🙏

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paucubarsi

hope you liked those flowers, handpicked just for you 🩷

yourusername

Pau 🙁🙁🙁 stop making me melt in the grocery store

paucubarsi

Bare minimum for a pretty lady I call my girlfriend, if you ask me

When will you be back ??

yourusername

I’ll be back in 10, are you okay, baby ?

paucubarsi

mhmm, just missing you, hermosa :( I know we see each other all day but still

yourusername

nvm I’ll be back in 5.

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liked by marcguiu9, lamasia and 398,762 others

tagged : yourusername

paucubarsi : night out with my love, happy two years anniversary ❤️

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user1 : time flies seeing them so happy together 🤧

user2 : I wanna be them so bad

user1 : us ?

user2: say less 🤭

yndefender : the way he looks at her 🥹

liked by paucubarsi

lamineyamal : simp

paucubarsi : don’t tell me you wouldn’t be one if you had her ??

yourusername : Here’s to many more adventures and memories together, love you endlessly💕

paucubarsi : The things you do to me 😵‍💫

user56 : the way he flirts with her in his comment section, he’s so in love

user9 : Bro impossibly down bad for his girl, ain’t nobody can blame him tho

user8 : Lamine so right about him being a simp

hctorforrt_ : you gotta let me be the best man to your wedding

liked by paucubarsi

fcbarcelona : our favorite couple❤️💙

hectorth 24

[teaboot]

Fun fight things I never see in fight scenes:

You are giving me important information from the sidelines and I can't hear you because my entire head inside this man's armpit

We are fighting and it is important that I focus on winning but I am hesitant to pull this maneuver because doing it puts me in danger of accidentally grabbing a dick or a titty

Someone's hand slipped up a shirt or down a waistband for a sec and we're both gonna pretend it didn't until we die

Dude you just got drool like all fucking over my face just now what the fuck

Okay I get that you're about to snap my neck with your thighs but also you totally just farted a bit which is reasonable considering the position we're in but still oh my God

If the last thing I experience on earth before I die is your ass in my face I'm going to drag you to hell with me

Someone is trying to give me advice right now and if they don't shut the fuck up I'm gonna kill them

I know the perfect maneuver to get out of this but if I go for it I'm definitely gonna dislocate my shoulder and I haven't decided if I want the win that bad yet

I just heard my knee pop and either it's fine or I'm going to spend the next six months in physical therapy and be in pain for the rest of my life

I thought I walked away from that ok but it's three in the morning and I just woke up out of a dead sleep because one of my limbs just started screaming

"You should ice that" Is the physical injury version of "Well its gotta be around here somewhere"

AW YEAH DID YOU SEE THAT I PULLED THAT SO SMOOTH IM SO GOOD IM KICKING ASS RIGHT NOW And ah fuck he got me

Hey bud you wanna maybe stop watching and lend me a fucking hand maybe

I Am Between You And Very Upset Person And If You Keep Pissing Them Off Then I Am Going To Get Stabbed

Nobody Expects To Get Licked

Oh God dude you smell so bad. Like you smell SO bad

Okay so like. I WOULD fight you but tbh you're actually super gross and I sort of don't wanna touch you. What is that stain from? You know what I don't wanna know, I don't wanna think about it

You are giving me important information from the sidelines but are missing some critical details that I cannot explain right now and you're getting frustrated that I'm not listening and I'm getting frustrated that you're angry at me for not doing something that will break both my arms at the same time

Sweetheart I love you to the moon and back but cheering me on is actually very distracting and I'm gonna need you to stop right now exactly right now please and thank you so so much baby PLEASE

Why do I smell like them now. Oh God I need a shower

WAS THAT A FUCKING BOOGER WHAT THE FUCK EW EW EW EW EW

haha nice underwear dipshit lol