#unless there isn't much gap in age

[harmonysanreads]

I have an older brother but we do not get along well whatsoever. He causes me so much stress and anger, it legit messess up my fricking period. In a way it's not his fault bc he's mentally ill but he's so ARROGANT EW

Sounds like a normal sibling dynamic to me lmao

Now that I think about, I have a cousin who's exactly like this and he's a total menace to his younger sister (and me) as well 💀

[myimaginationplain]

lore olympus is one of those times where the anti-fandom is 10 times more annoying than either the fandom or work itself could ever be

[jasonshousewife]

Can you make a fic based on this? with Jason nyeheheheheh

OHH i like jason being younger than reader!! like he's much taller and bigger than you but also he's the younger one who tries his best to rizz you up better than the guys around you lmao

let's say you're his brother's friend or something cause i enjoy this tropes unless there's love triangle between brothers included😭 anywayy you've been his crush forever while you almost forgot about him after you saw him few times as robin, then boom he shows up all grown up. it takes a long while for you to recognize him cause where's that boy who was so small and full of life?? who is this guy standing over you, his face scarred and he even has stubble like wtf??

even though the age gap isn't that big, you still sometimes treat him like he's still a boy who was once robin, not because you don't see him as a grown man but because you spend too much time reminding yourself that this man in front of you was the same boy you occasionally saw on a mission, just happy to be there. now you would find him in a bar drinking, or sometimes topless and taking a look at his wounds. and god he's so hot. you just don't want to make him uncomfortable around you so you just try to ignore it. but it's so damn hard.

what if you secretly has a thing for rough guys like him while Jason's trying his best to act like a soft guy that he thinks is your type. just for fun lol. imagine what he'd be like when he gets lost in the moment while you kiss and does something wild... and instead of pulling away he gets a needy moan from your lips... oh he'd go feral

maybe there's more to add but i'll stop here for now hehe

[dreamingofbucky]

THE REPORT

Miguel O'Hara x Spider!F!Reader (one shot)

summary: You failed to report to Miguel after a mission and he makes it a living hell for you. to teach you a lesson, he makes you meet him after everyone's gone home and has a special punishment just for you.

tags/content warnings: slow burn til it isn't, grumpy!miguel, cockwarming like that's the whole plot, consensual smut. p in v. fangs. praise kink, size kink. age gap (reader is 20, mig is almost 30 idk). reader is a sister figure to gwen.

Word Count: 6.1k

author’s note: not beta read. this was so fun to write! hope you enjoy <3

-

Living in Spider Society was chaotic, but you loved it. You enjoyed it so much, but there were times you liked to visit other universes and even your own. You haven’t been back to your own universe in months due to work though. 

You’ve been to Gwen and Hobie’s ones countless times, even stayed multiple nights. Albeit you being a few years older than them, about to turn 21, they were your closest friends in Spider Society. They got your humor, they understood your mess, and they’d fight for you. 

With Jessica Drew being older and busy with her own relationship, and then Peter B Parker with MJ and Mayday, you were glad you had these Spiderteens to hang with. You felt like an older sister to them sometimes which helped with the whole identity crisis you had the first month moving to Earth-928 and feeling so alone. 

And then there was Miguel. He was technically your boss and he was so cold, so standoffish toward you. Even after he recruited you, you’ve seen him less and less around missions unless you had to go to his office to report any difficulties with anomalies. You felt miniscule under his gaze most times. But then… even as much as you hated to admit how he made you feel though at random times when you felt his gaze linger a little longer than normal. 

It’s probably been a week since the last time you had to go up to his office to relay a report, yet the grumpy man’s eyes were everywhere in Earth-928. You felt his eyes everywhere. Your spider senses went haywire whenever you felt him near. But it was more than just a tingle to you. It was a strange feeling you couldn’t pin down. But you brushed it off anytime that specific feeling came around. 

You did have some hard times though in this new universe you called home. You had your own Peter back in your own universe until he passed. It was your canon event, after all. Something you still hated thinking about. 

It was hard at first acclimating to Spider Society seeing so many Peter Parkers. Yours wasn’t Spider-Man, since you were the one in your universe, but the name was hard to adjust to hearing all the time, every day at work. That was the one thing you and Gwen had in common which was why you both were glued to the hip most of the time like real sisters. 

Some might say it’s just trauma bonding, but you did ultimately feel like Gwen was like a younger sibling to you at this point. And no one really understood the hard adjustment to Spider Society like she did. It was comforting. 

“You’re thinking again,” Gwen says, pulling you out of your thoughts. Her pink-blonde hair fell in front of her face as she busied herself with a journal. She liked to journal a lot more recently ever since she’s been spending more time with Miles. 

You remembered her mentioning when she saw him after a year apart that she found his own journal of doodles. It was so obvious the crush she had on him, but you didn’t push or ask any questions. 

A smile comes to your face as you see her doodling nonsense. You couldn’t admit that she wasn’t the best artist, but you let her have her vice whenever Miles was busy and off on different missions or even back in his universe to finish school. His parents still didn’t know he was Spider-Man, so he wasn’t around Spider Society as often as Gwen would like. 

“No,” you counter. “Just letting my mind rest. Had a long week.” 

Gwen’s bright eyes drifted up from the journal before a smile etched on her face. “Did you send your latest report to Miguel yet?” 

Your spine stiffened at the sound of his name. “No, why? Was I supposed to? I thought Hobie was in charge of that this week?” 

Sometimes Gwen, Hobie, and you would rock-paper-scissors whoever did the reports for the week. This week was supposed to be Hobie’s. 

Gwen shakes her head. “No, I clearly remember Hobie mentioning it’d be you. He’s not even around today.” 

“Oh,” you plainly stated. She was right, he wasn’t in this universe today. Had some protest to join back in his own universe. He invited you and Gwen, but you both wanted to be around in case you were needed. You urged Gwen to even spend the day with Miles, but he apparently had something to do with his parents. 

Gwen whistles. “Miguel is gonna be looking for you then.”

Your eyes widened at that. “Fuck, no he can’t. I didn’t even prepare anything! We went two days ago, how am I supposed to remember each detail of what we did? Fuck, I’m going to find Hobie and–” 

“Chill!” Gwen laughs. “Just go see him and let him know. Hey, maybe bringing an empanada will lessen the blow.” 

You rolled your eyes at that before standing up. The room you both were in was quiet and not many spider-people were around. Gwen and you liked to come in here to either debrief, talk about Miles, or just sit in silence while she doodled and you thought. 

You cherished her, you cherished every one of your spider friends. Well, except now with Hobie. Because now you’re for sure going to get a scolding from the boss man. 

“Good luck,” Gwen sing-songed as you shook your head and laughed. But inside you were dying, your heart was starting to race as you left the room. You made your way through the building until you got to the elevator. The ride up was short and you even forgot the empanada. 

Your fingers laced together at the front as the doors opened and you walked on the floor where his office was. It was unusually quiet. And darker than normal.

There wasn’t any big anomaly that had to be contained today or else you’d know. So where was everyone?

By the time you reached his office, you craned your neck up to see his platform high up and he was there standing, staring at a screen. He hadn’t noticed you yet, due to his inability to have spider senses, and you take your time looking at him. 

His broad shoulders were facing you and you noticed his hands on his slim waist. You lick your lips at the sight. It wasn’t something you were proud of. 

Call it hormones. You closed yourself off to any romantic flings or relationships the moment you moved here, but you still had those urges. 

And they so happened to heighten whenever you were around the one person you shouldn’t have those urges around. Your attraction to your boss wasn’t something you expected, especially with him being a few years older than you… okay, he was definitely older. He never mentioned his age, but you overhead he was probably closer to 30. Which made him almost a decade older than you. 

Your thoughts drift to a week ago when you saw him in passing. Spider-Woman was briefing you for a mission when he caught on to the conversation and halted his steps. He interrupted that conversation to scold you, letting Jess know that you wouldn’t be joining her that day. 

You didn’t understand why. It wasn’t like the anomaly wasn’t someone you couldn’t handle. But you had to follow his orders and ultimately stayed back while he and the other Spiders went. Even Gwen and Hobie went. 

That was a low blow on Miguel’s part. You’d at least thought he’d make the non-teens go on a mission together. You can’t remember the last time you went on a mission where Miguel was present. It felt like some days he didn’t even want you around. 

As you think about Miguel, you hear shuffling up above you and you blink, brushing away the thoughts and focusing on what you had to do. 

You shoot out a web to his platform and bring yourself up, landing on your feet. He finally turns at the noise and gives you a side-eye. 

“What are you doing here?” He asks. 

Your fingers find each other again as you fumble for a response. Here goes. “I-I had that report to tell you about. I thought Hobie was going to give it, sorry for the delay.” 

His shoulders rise and fall with each breath before he turns around. His hand goes in the air behind him, waving off the screens he was just looking at. You caught a glimpse of another universe and Spider people shooting webs. 

He had an eye on everything. 

“That was supposed to be given directly after you returned from it,” he scoffs. He takes a step toward you and you try to hold your ground. Your breathing increases and his lips twitch. 

“I know! Just a simple miscommunication, that’s all,” you try to laugh it off, but his stern face is anything but finding it funny. 

“Do you know what I think?” He simply asks. The hairs on your arms stand as you look at him. His eyes smooth over your face, looking all over. They stop for a brief moment a little lower, on your lips, for more than a second. 

“What do you think?” You ask breathlessly. 

He takes another step closer, now inches away. He’s so tall compared to you, he’s basically caging you in at this moment without even knowing. You gulp. 

“You’re supposed to be an example to them.” 

“What?” 

“You heard me,” he grimaces. “You’re older than them, yet you seem to act their age. It’s evident in the way you completely forgot to send in that report on time.” 

“It happened once! And by accident! Like I said, it was because–” 

“Take responsibility,” he spits. His hand goes to his hip and now you’re on the verge of hyperventilating. You didn’t expect a lecture when you came here. You expected Miguel to throw a fit, yelling at you, and then banishing you from his office within minutes. But you’re still here. 

“Okay, I will,” you finally state. You feel deflated from the conversation already and you’re starting to get impatient at his obvious anger. Or annoyance. He seemed to be either angry or annoyed by you everytime you’re around. 

“Okay, let’s hear it.” He crosses his arms over his chest, his elbows brushing against your chest in the process with how close he is. You take a deep breath. 

“I’m taking responsibility for not giving you the report on time. I apologize, boss.” 

He nods before turning on his heel and returning to his screen. You’re left confused and you even raise a brow at the odd reaction. 

“Don’t you want the report now?” You ask, kicking your heel at the ground. 

“No, not right now. I’m busy. Come back later.” 

“But I had plans with Gwen,” you start, but he snaps his neck back at you and his eyes glow red. You stop talking immediately. 

“Come. Back. Later.” He hisses, fangs showing. 

“Right, will do,” you stutter out before attempting to run off that platform. Your two left feet make you trip and fall, making you have to shoot out a web to catch yourself before you planted face first on the floor below. 

You didn’t dare to look up and see if Miguel saw that, you left as soon as your feet hit the ground. 

By the time you went to regroup with Gwen, she wasn’t where you left her. It took you a moment to walk around the building before you found her outside, sitting and staring at the scenery. You climbed the structure she was on, upside down, before shooting out webs to anchor you, and lowering yourself and sitting next to her. 

“How was it?” She asks, looking at you. 

“Not so well,” you confess. 

“Really? What happened?” Her eyes widen. 

You shrug. “Not much, actually. I apologized and took responsibility for not giving it to him on time.” 

“But? Your face looks like there’s a ‘but’ somewhere in there,” she laughs. You nudge her shoulder with yours and you frown. 

“Yeah, there’s a but. He didn’t want the report. Told me to go back later tonight to give it to him.” 

“That’s great!” Gwen smiles. 

“How’s that great?” You ask, raising a brow. You decide to look out in front of you both and see the vast city before you. Although you’re upside down, you never get tired of the view. 

“Because you have time to do the report and then give it to him, duh. You don’t have to verbally give it to him on the spot.” 

“I don’t know,” you finally breathe. You place your palms behind you and lean back. Gwen does the same, mimicking you. 

“You know, Jess mentioned that he’s a big softie under all that anger and macho-ness.” 

“What?” You laugh, wondering why the hell she’s steering the conversation this way. 

Gwen nods with a smile curling on the tips of her lips. “Yep. It kind of reminds me of those stupid sayings where if he makes fun of you, he likes you.” 

Your body stiffens and you shake your head. “Gwen! What are you talking about? Miguel?” 

There is nothing behind the reasons why he’s cold to you or why he’s made it seem like you aren’t worth being around. If he had any inkling of attraction toward you, you’d know. Spider sense or not. 

“See tonight, then! And please let me know. I kind of made a bet with Jess… I have to win.”

You groan. “What?! You guys are betting on the most impossible thing. There is nothing there. He hates me, but like actually. There is no underlying meaning.” 

“Sure,” Gwen laughs. “Anyways, Miles said he’s coming back tomorrow so we might have to raincheck on that girls night.” 

“I thought that was tonight?” 

“I figured we’d have to move it to tomorrow night the moment you mentioned Miguel needing to see you tonight. He’ll probably make you handwrite that damn report all night.” 

You lean your head back and stare at the city above you. “Fine, raincheck. But nothing is going on, you’ll see.” 

“Hmm,” is all Gwen says before you shake your head and laugh. You both stay watching the city in silence for a little longer before you go on with your day, dreading for the night to come. 

***

“Miguel?” You call out into the darkness of his office. His platform is dark, with no sign of life from him or anyone. 

Suddenly, you hear a fizzle in the air and then Lyla pops up into thin air. You almost yelp, hand flying to your chest. 

“Hey! Miguel let me know for you to meet him in his quarters.” Lyla floats around you, disappearing and reappearing at random spots. Her pink glasses lower on the bridge of her nose as she takes a good look at you. 

“His place?” You repeat, your mouth suddenly feeling dry. You’ve never been called to his quarters. He had a place of course in the city, but it was known that he’d stay multiple times a week at the floor of the building that acted as a penthouse for when he needed to be on call for anyone. 

You were terrified that you did something else wrong and that’s why he decided to have this meeting in a more private location. You gulp, looking at Lyla. 

“Don’t look so scared!” She laughs. “Come on!” She yells before disappearing and reappearing a few yards away closer to the elevator. 

You follow with no argument before you both get into the elevator and it skyrockets a few more floors up. The elevator dings and you see Miguel in normal clothes, not his suit. It didn’t occur to you that he can wear something else besides his suit. You’ve never seen him without the suit, so this was weird. 

Miguel hears your steps and he looks, a look of concern on his face. You instantly cross your arms over your chest, as if trying to hide yourself from his gaze. His eyes drift from your toes to your eyes before he looks at Lyla who appears in front of him. 

“She’s here, boss,” she sing-songs before Miguel grunts. 

“Thanks, Lyla. Now pause all updates unless it’s an emergency. Forward any updates to Jessica if there are any.” 

“Only if you say it,” Lyla teases, twirling around Miguel’s body. 

Miguel groans, rolling his eyes. “Lyla, do it.” 

“Nuh uh, I need to hear it boss,” she pushes. This makes you giggle at the encounter but you shut your mouth as Miguel gives you a stern look. 

“Please, Lyla,” he finally says with a bite to his words. 

“Already done, boss, but I loved hearing that,” Lyla says before evaporating into thin air. The silence fills the room as you stand there, rocking back and forth on your heels. 

“Where’s your suit?” He finally asks, heading to the kitchen. You follow blindly, unsure what else to do. 

“I-uh, didn’t think I’d need it.” You looked down at your sweats and long sleeve, wondering if you should’ve looked more presentable. It was past dinnertime, way past that to be precise, the sky was dark outside his floor to ceiling windows, so it didn’t make sense to wear anything else. You wanted to feel cozy too. The softness of the clothes calmed you a bit with the anxiety of what Miguel might say. 

You tried to write the report earlier, but your mind was a mess. You’d have to apologize for that again you were sure of it. 

“You didn’t, just wanted to ask,” Miguel chuckles as he reaches inside his fridge and pulls out a water bottle. He turns to you and raises it, looking at you with a questionable face. You nod as he tosses you it and you open it, taking a few sips. You hear the crack of his own and his gulping. 

You didn’t realize how much of a cottonmouth you had until you started drinking the cold water. 

“So the report, do you have it?” He asks, heading toward you. 

“About that…” you start. His jaw clenches and his eyes go red for a moment before they go back to the pretty brown. 

“You didn’t do it?” 

You shake your head, swallowing the lump forming in your throat. “No, I-I tried to. I swear, I can do it right now, just let me get my computer or a pen and paper.” 

That’s when he laughs again. You’ve never heard him laugh before. It was like music to your ears. Your heart picks up its pace at the sound and the way his eyes crinkle at the motion. His teeth bare with the laugh and you notice the fangs popping out. 

An inappropriate thought of him sinking them into you comes to the forefront of your mind and you suck in your breath and clench your thighs together. He pinches his brows, looking at you at the sudden sound you swore he wouldn’t be able to hear. 

“Ven aquí,” he beckons as he waves you over to the other end of the place where a living room holds a few couches. The place isn’t decorated and it looks like it was just created as something to show, not live in. He sits on the edge of the couch and you walk over to him, keeping a few inches away. 

You can practically feel his body heat emanating and your body betrays you as your knees get wobbly and you have to clear your throat. You curse yourself for having these reactions toward your boss in his private place. 

Lyla couldn’t even interrupt you both as much as you’d like. You didn’t want to be scolded. You wanted to take the punishment of finishing the report in front of Miguel and then go home.

“Your heart is racing so fast,” he murmurs, causing you to gasp. Heat pools in your belly and your cheeks start to burn. He cocks his head to the side before sighing and running a hand through his hair. His biceps flex under his shirt and you bite your lip. 

“It’s just hot in here,” you lie, fanning yourself to prove a point. 

“The AC is on,” he counters. 

“Of course,” you squeak. You try so hard to lower your heart rate, but it’s not helping being so close to him. 

“Do you want to know what else I can observe?” He asks, looking up at you from beneath his lashes. Your ears are pounding as you intake a sharp breath. 

“What?” You whisper. 

He rises, getting close to you. He lifts a hand and traces a finger underneath your chin, causing you to tremble and your lips quiver. “I can smell the way your sweat is protruding. And it’s not from fear.” 

“Oh,” you whisper again. 

He bares his teeth, fangs glinting. “I can also smell you to the point where it’s driving me fucking crazy right now.” 

“Smell me? Like my sweat and my scent?” You raise a brow. You’re not sure where he’s getting at this. Is he trying to intimidate you? Cause it’s working. 

“I can smell your arousal,” he chuckles, getting closer to brush your chest with his body. You widen your eyes. 

“Oh, uh, I’m so sorry,” you apologize, not knowing what else to say. You try to clench your thighs together, but that doesn’t help with the growing feeling between them. Your pussy is basically singing for him to touch it. You do your best to push down those thoughts, it’s utter humiliation that he can sense those things. 

His thumb brushes your bottom lip and your knees almost give out at the gentle touch. It’s all confusing you to the point where you’re not even sure this is happening. 

“You look confused,” he mutters. 

“I-uh, I’m not sure what’s going on. I thought I was going to be lectured. I thought you’d send me away to finish the report or something,” you admit. 

“You won’t be going on any missions anytime soon, how’s that for a lecture?” 

Your heart drops at this. “What? How is that fair? I’m not the only one who missed a report, I’m sure!” 

His hand drops from your face and you miss the feeling of it instantly. You stare at him and your anger is starting to increase. Scrunching your brows together, you exhale loudly. 

“It’s completely fair for the way it was handled.” 

It wasn’t wise for you to keep talking back to your boss, especially being alone with him. There wouldn’t be anyone around to save you if he started one of his rage arguments. 

“The report can be done now, how about that?” he finally breathes. He retreats back to the couch and leans back, thighs spreading. His frame is large and your eyes immediately go to his core and then his crotch. You gulp, knowing you shouldn’t be looking in that region. 

He says your name sternly and you look up before seeing a smirk pass his lips. 

You shake your head and straighten your posture. “Of course, boss. Where do you want me to do it?” You ask, looking around for a desk or maybe he wanted you to complete it on the kitchen island. You still needed a paper and pen or a computer. 

He makes a slapping sound and you turn toward it, seeing him slapping his thigh. You stare at him incredulously. 

“Miguel?” You whisper. His eyes are no longer the light brown you remember from moments before. They've gone a little darker and red is seeping into the sclera. You gulp. 

“Aquí,” he states firmly. You oblige, getting closer and bumping your knee with his before you stand in between his spread thighs. 

Your heart continues to race and you’re surprised you haven’t passed out from it. He pats his thighs again before he leans up for a moment, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and pulling you in so easily. He lifts you up like you weigh nothing before you’re straddling his thighs, legs on either side of his. 

It happens so quickly all you can do is gasp and then balance yourself by placing your hands on his shoulders. His very broad, strong shoulders. Your fingers clasp them tightly and you swallow. 

“Isn’t that better?” he whispers. You bite your lip, not sure how to respond. His hand lifts to brush your cheek before pushing strands of hair behind your ear. The movement is delicate and completely opposite of how Miguel holds himself in public. You’ve seen him swat a butterfly once that wasn’t even bothering him and his grumpy persona is all you know. 

“Tell me,” he demands. You part your lips. 

“Yes,” you finally admit. His hands move to your waist and press hard, enough for you to gasp. Your fingers dig into his shoulders and he hisses. 

“What are we doing?” You ask, courage finally bubbling out of your chest. 

“I’ve noticed things about you, reina,” he whispers, holding you tighter. 

“You have?” 

He nods. “The way you look at me. Your heart races when you’re near me. Your pussy craves my touch, I can smell it everytime.” 

“What? No, it’s not–” you scream but he pulls you closer on his thighs until your core brushes against his. You feel something right under your pussy and you realize it’s his erection. 

Your hips instinctively roll at the feeling and you groan, biting your lip. 

“See? You can’t deny the way your body is wanting me. I can’t lie and say I haven’t thought about it too. That I don’t feel the same way.” 

“Miguel,” you squirm underneath his hold but that only makes your hips roll even more into his erection and it sparks something in you. It feels so good and a moan leaves your lips. He grunts, fangs hitting his bottom lip for a moment. A slight red dot forms from the incision. 

“Besame,” he asks, smoothing his hands up to your torso, over your arms and then to your cheeks. You feel intoxicated from his touch. 

He wants you to kiss him. You can’t deny that, you’re already so far gone now. Without a delay, you nod and lean in, crashing your lips to his. A moan escapes your lips while a hiss leaves his. You feel a slight prick from his fangs and you gasp. 

“Sorry, reina,” he says, licking your bottom lip. 

You take a few deep breaths, lifting a hand from his shoulder to run it through his hair. You don’t do it gently, call it payback for the fang bite. But it only rouses him more, your fingers grasping harshly at his strands. He pulls you in then again to kiss you and then pushes his tongue into your mouth. He kisses you with fervor and you let him. Your hips begin to roll over his erection and it hits the spot you need it to. 

“Take these off,” he slaps your ass and hooks his thumbs into the waistband of your sweats. You nod before lifting yourself and he pulls them down. You shift awkwardly until your sweats are off and then you’re straddling him with just your panties. His calloused palms touch your thighs and he groans. 

“Fuck, your skin is so soft.” He murmurs before smoothing his hands over your thighs before moving to your panties. 

“Do you want me to take these off too?” 

He shakes his head, lifting a hand. You see a talon come out from his finger and he’s quick to cut the fabric of your panties. You gasp and he smiles. 

“Hey!” You yelp. 

“My turn,” he moves on, moving his hands to pull down his own pants. You have to lift yourself again, your panties falling from the motion. You watch as he slides his pants down enough until they’re past his knees. You finally look down and gasp, not expecting him to be bare underneath. No boxers, just his erected cock ready for you. A glint of pre-cum is at the tip and your mouth salivates at the thought. 

His hand goes to his cock and he starts to move it up and down. He hisses through the movements before he licks his hand and continues the motions. You widen your eyes. 

“Are you ready for your report?” He breaks your thoughts. 

You lock eyes with him. “T-the report? Right now?”

He nods. “Sit on my cock, reina, and give me the damn report.” 

Your cheeks burn and you look around the room, wondering if this is some kind of dream. You lift your hand to your other arm and pinch. It hurts, so you know you’re not dreaming. 

He’s still fisting his cock as he waits patiently. His eyes are redder than before and he licks his lips. 

“Miguel,” you whisper. 

“You’re so wet for me already, I know it,” he laughs. 

He wasn’t wrong, but your brain was turning into mush. You muster the courage to finally do as he says. You lift yourself enough to hover over his core and his hand moves from his cock to your pussy and you gasp from the feeling of his fingers running along your wet folds. 

“Fuck, you’re going to be a tight fit. But I can’t warm you up, I’m sorry,” he mumbles. 

“Wait, why?” 

“Another punishment, now sit on my cock before I change my mind about everything.” 

You didn’t want to know what else he planned for your punishment and you knew it wouldn’t be nearly as enticing as this. He’d probably make you work at the cafeteria or some shit. 

“Okay,” you meep, finally lowering yourself onto his tip. You hiss at the feeling of his wet tip entering you. 

“Come on, you got this,” he coos as his hands move to your waist to help lower you down. Inch by aching inch, you lower until you’re full of him. His girth practically splits you in half and you bite your lip, holding in a cry. 

“You’re so pretty like this, sitting on my lap with my cock stuffed inside you.” 

You let out a deep breath. “You’re so big, Miguel, I need a moment.” 

“Take your time, you’re not leaving anytime soon.” 

Your heart skips a beat at that thought. It takes a moment for you to adjust to his length before you’re ready to roll your hips. It feels like the world has flipped upside down and you’re in heaven. Sparks run all along your spine and throughout your body. 

His cock twitches inside you and you start to roll your hips, closing your eyes. 

“Open your eyes,” he demands. You whip them open and stare at him. Your hands dig into his shoulders again as you roll your hips again, causing him to groan and tighten his hold on your waist. 

“Now, the report,” he repeats. 

“Oh, yeah, uh–” you mumble out. Your mind can’t concentrate on that damn report as your pussy clenches around his cock. He stills your movements. 

“We can only continue if you start talking,” he says. 

That’s when you realize what he’s doing. He’s not going to take you off his lap until you’re done with the report. You’re not sure if you’ll be able to handle that. Your orgasm is already rising to its peak with the small movements. He’s so big, hitting your g-spot perfectly. Each roll of your hips sends you closer and closer to your release. 

“Okay, well,” you start. “Hobie and I were able to handle the Vulture from Earth-673. It was good and–ah–we got him contained.” You say, biting your lip to keep from coming. 

“And?” Miguel presses, lifting his own hips to drive his cock a little more into you. An exasperated pant leaves your mouth at this. He’s cruel. 

“And that was it, that was all we did. Nothing else happened,” you mumbled out quickly. 

“That’s not what I saw on the screens,” he hums. He moves a hand to roam down between your cores. His thumb presses gently against your clit and you clench his cock before whimpering. 

“Miguel!” 

“What else happened?” 

You try so hard to think back to the mission that happened days ago. You curse Hobie for not sending the report or reminding you that you had to do it. 

That’s when you remember something. You smile. “Gwen was handling that train cart that fell off the platform and then Hobie and I focused on the people on the ground. We got them all.” 

“And what else?” Miguel starts to circle his thumb over your clit at a faster pace. You groan and hang your head back. His movements stop. 

“Miguel, please,” you squirm, trying to get back that friction against your clit by rubbing yourself over his abdomen. He hisses and shakes his head. 

“You forgot about the canon event you didn’t stop,” he reminded you. 

That didn’t seem like important information to tell him. You all worked hard to prevent canon disruptions. It was an obvious task that didn’t need to be vocalized. He raises a brow. You take a deep breath and nod. 

“Y-yeah,” you mumble. “We allowed the canon event to happen successfully.” 

“Good girl,” Miguel coos before placing his thumb back on your clit and his other hand grasps your waist tight enough and he lifts you enough to slam you back down on his cock. You scream, falling on him and wrapping your arms around his neck. Your hands bury in his long hair. 

“So good for me,” he whispers in your ear as you roll your hips some more, chasing that high. 

“I’m close,” you whine. You feel his lips graze your neck and before you know it, you feel pain and little stabs at your skin. His fangs sink into your skin and that only causes you to moan loudly and squeeze his cock even more. He grunts before removing his fangs from your neck. 

“You did so well for me, you can come whenever you want to, reina,” he whispers. And before you know it, both hands go to your waist and he’s lifting you up at an alarming pace and slamming you down on his cock. 

You’re both panting loudly, the only sounds in the room are your cores slapping and your pussy drenching him in your arousal. 

“Fuck! I’m going to come,” you whimper. 

“Come all over my cock, baby,” he stutters as his pace of slamming you down grows sloppy. You nod and lift your head to look at him. His eyes are less red and his features have seemed to go a little softer. 

Before you know it, you’re screaming and coming over his cock. He doesn’t stop though, he continues to jut into you until his hips still and his hands shake on your waist. You feel the warmth spread inside you and you know he just released inside you. 

“Fuck,” he sighs. 

You lay your forehead against his chest and his hands are soft to the touch as he rubs your bare back underneath your shirt. You shudder underneath his touch, but you try to calm your breathing. Your pussy clenches around his softening dick and he groans. 

“I can get off,” you whisper, attempting to lift your hips, but his hold on you tightens. 

“No, not yet.” 

“Why?” You giggle. You lift your head and you’re nose to nose with Miguel. His eyes dance around your face before he answers. 

“I think you need to repeat the report once more.” 

“What?!” You scowl. 

“I’ve got you here now, what’s the problem? You can’t repeat the same thing you just said? Or are you too cockdrunk to think of anything?” 

You didn’t want to tell him that he’s right. The last few minutes are a blur and the mission of a few days ago is at the back of your mind already. You whimper as his hands lower to your ass and squeezes. You try to lift your hips again, but he slams you back down on him. The friction only causes your arousal to rise again. 

Fuck, you’re never going to leave are you? 

His erection starts to grow again in you and he smiles like a jerk. 

“The report, repeat it. If you stumble once, you’re starting over. I have all night.” 

You roll your hips, fully drowning in him and obeying his every command. You’re too far gone at this point to fight. 

You nod, biting your lip before starting the report again. You mumble a few times and you curse yourself as he takes a moment to lift you and slam you on his cock a few times. You scream his name relentlessly before having to start the report over again. 

You don’t get off his lap until the sun peeks from the horizon and filters through the penthouse. 

[junedenim]

i want to stay with you, my love

the consequence of having roommates

warnings: smut, age gap, fingerfucking & stuff

word count: 2.5k

It was convenient small talk. Two strangers leaving a party at the same time. The elevator rattles. The building is old. He's old. Well, older. It's unhealthy, daddy issues labeled by some, predatory by others. But he's quiet and cute and he wore a button-up to a party most people wore a T-shirt too—unless you were old like him.

You weren't. I mean, women always tend to put more effort into these kinds of things than men. Most women at the party look like they came from a business meeting or a strip club. You likely fell into the latter. Your coat, a long tweed thing, concealed that fact. It masked you as one of those professionals.

You know he's looking over. He isn't good at hiding these things, most men aren't. They're sleazy and like women to know when they're disgustingly ogling at them. This guy's shyness is endearing. You noticed it when you were the only two people in the hallway waiting for the elevator. Eyes darting over but always facing forward when you looked over. Now, in the elevator, he continues this behavior.

"Going home for the night?" You ask.

He looks over as if unsure you're speaking to him like he isn't the only other human in this tiny elevator. "No," he answers, "headed out for a smoke." British. Interesting and not done since your study abroad semester in London. "You?" His eyebrows are still raised. He's definitely interested. 

"Headed home." You smile. The elevator hits the bottom floor.

He looks down at his watch. You giggle to yourself. What man still owns a watch and actually checks it for the time? "At 10:30? You're either the saddest or the wisest person here tonight." He's smirking, peering down at you as the metal doors open.

Neither of you makes a move to exit the elevator. You smile and look up at him through your eyelashes. "Indulge me and say the wisest." You walk out first but wait for him to join you so you can leave the apartment building together.

"Alright." He's as proper-looking as you can get at 10:30 after several glasses of, what you assume, is whiskey by the smell of it. His hair is buzzed, smooth, and freshly cut. Most notably, he has sunglasses on. At 10:30 at night.

"You mind if I join you for that smoke?" You're flirtatious and suggestive. Everything you need to get the attention of a man at this hour and that attire. 

"Could always use the company." He holds the door open to exit the building first. 

Outside, the air is bitter. Winter has finally come and he looks like he left his jacket upstairs. You almost want to huddle him like a baby rabbit. Your coat a cocoon for his caterpillar. 

He continues his gentlemanly manners by handing a cigarette to you before taking one for himself. The flame sparked from his zippo—yes, a zippo, he might as well pull out a matchbox next time—and a heat spreads on your skin like it's a bonfire. He lights yours first too.

"You Corey Hart or something?" You ask him, taking the first puff.

"Hm?" He wrinkles his brows together. He's got permanent wrinkles too. They're charming like imprints from a life lived. One you have yet to experience. 

"'Sunglasses At Night'?" You clarify. He takes a drag of his and he seems so particular about it. He purses his lips out in one direction when blowing the smoke out, much clearer about it than when you talked the smoke out.

He chuckles. "I didn't think you were old enough to know who Corey Hart is." So, he knows how young you are. Is he into that kind of thing? Are you gonna have to call him daddy tonight? You don't mind it but sometimes that stuff can feel so infantilizing and come from guys who would fuck teenagers if they could.

"Child of the digital age," you reply. He takes his sunglasses off then. "You don't have to take them off at my teasing."

"No, no, I just want to see you clearer." He's good.

"And how do I look?" Your lips pout and you take a drag hoping the smoke will elicit memories of burning fires for him.

He eyes you up and down, from those chipped colouring of your stilettos to the fly-aways on your head. "Fucking pulchritudinous."

"Excuse me?" Big words, drunk brain.

"You're fucking gorgeous."

"You using big words to compensate for something?"

He laughs. He laughs at you insulting his manhood. Most men are bitter about that kind of thing. He's throwing his head back and the smoke floods its way out through his nose. "Demonstrating length."

An equal-sparing partner. An even more tempting offer than a simple man. He's attractive, looks like he has money if the watch is anything to go by, intellectual, and—allegedly—has a big cock. You tilt your head. "Oh, yeah?"

"What direction are you going?" He asks.

"I thought you were just heading out for a smoke. Won't your friends be concerned?" Or your girlfriend or wife? 

He shakes his head. "Nah, they'll figure it out soon enough. I'm not the type of guy to get kidnapped."

"Who's to say I'm not going to kidnap you?"

He smirks. "I think I'd like you holding me hostage."

You dramatically blink your lashes. "What about me? Am I safe?"

He raises his eyebrows. "From kidnapping? Yes."

"And from other things?"

"Depends on what they are."

You would consider yourself a good judge of character so you wordlessly start walking down 1st Street. He discards his cigarette and walks beside you. "I don't live too far. Could've walked myself home." You feel the need to make that clear. That you're the independent woman who carries pepper spray in her purse. 

"I don't doubt that," he says. 

You don't even know his name. Something about that is alluring. A complete and total stranger, but you're still curious. "Where's that accent from?"

"British," he answers.

You giggle. "I got that far."

"I'm from up north. Sheffield."

You hum. "I don't know why I bothered asking. I suck at geography."

He teases, "I live in LA now. Do you know where that is?"

"Don't be a smartass now."

"What about yours? I got the American part."

You shake your head. "You're not gonna know. It's a tiny, little thing." You put your index finger and thumb within a centimeter of one another. "I just say LA now. I've lived here since I was 18."

"And what was that? 2 years ago," he jokes.

You slap him with your purse. You quietly laugh too. "I'm 24," you clarify. "What are you? 50?"

He clutches his heart. "You wound me. I was born in 1986 if you can do the math on that one."

You roll your eyes. "Too ashamed to say it out loud."

He switches the subject. "Who do you know up there?"

You ask, "At the party?" He nods. "A friend of a friend. You?"

"Just a friend. My friend."

"How evasive?"

"You're the enigma here."

You hum. You stop walking. It amuses you how quickly he follows your move. You walk up the stairs to your building, unlocking the door. He follows behind, no invitation. "We can sit in the lobby." You gesture him to the ottoman across from the mailboxes. 

You take out your vape, offering a hit to me. "You can smoke in here?"

You shrug. "Everyone else does." 

"And you choose to smoke that thing?" He sounds like your father. It makes you giggle.

"You've never even tried it. Have you?" You take a hit from it.

He plucks a cigarette out from his pack, sitting it between his lips as he rests on the ottoman. You take your place beside him. "I'll stick with me cigarettes."

You chuckle at his accent. Sure, you like smoking, but you like watching him smoke more. He wraps his lips around the cigarette and hollows his cheeks. It's an arousing sight to watch. You want to reach out and trace his jawline. 

"How drunk are you?" He asks.

Considering you had been at the party for only close to an hour and it hadn't quite hit the hour where everyone was drowning in alcohol, your intake had been light. "Two drinks, not very."

"That's good."

"Why?" You smirk over him. The smoke allures you to him, dragging you unconsciously closer to his body. 

"I really wanna fuck you."

A vibration rang through you. You sigh, "My roommate is probably home." You lean back against the wall. His eyes follow you everywhere. You look up at him wide-eyed and seductive. 

"Worried you can't keep quiet?"

You giggle. "I'm worried about you." She taps his nose and he scrunchs it up. He looks so young when he does it. 10 years gone like that.

"I can't believe I didn't see you at the party." You exhale twin streams of smoke from your nostrils. 

"I came late. It's stupid, but I couldn't decide what to wear. It's a kind of social anxiety but with clothes, just clothes, I think. I changed like a hundred times. That's another reason you can't come up. I already have too many clothes lying about on my floor."

"What did you end up wearing?" He's staring at you like he has X-ray vision.

"Oh, just this thing I made."

"Can I see?"

You raise an eyebrow. You take the cigarette from his hands and take a puff. "See!" He exclaims. "Even you prefer it."

"Hush," you say. You press the cigarette between your lips and stand to unbutton the black buttons of the coat. What you're wearing is little of anything. A pink, so pale it's almost white. mini dress so short he's sure if you bent over he could see your underwear. The garment fits you like a glove, obviously hand-tailored to fit. 

"You made that?"

You nod. "It's a hobby of mine."

"Let me come upstairs," he says.

"No," you say, sitting back down. "We'll definitely have sex if you come up." You grind your cigarette on the metal stair tread. "What time is it?" You reach over for his wrist before he can look himself. "11, hm."

"This isn't right. Don't let some roommates get in the way of your fun."

You raise an eyebrow and suppress a smile. "My fun? I think you mean your fun."

"Our fun."

You think for a minute. Hum and look around the room. Then, back at him. "No, but I'll check if they are here for you." 

You stand and shrug your coat off fully, throwing it over your arm. He's worked up a heat in that lobby. He follows you up to the second landing just outside your apartment door. You shake your head disappointed. "Two sets of shoes." You gesture to the dirty Converses outside the door. "They're both home."

He's luring, standing over you with a look that makes you weak in the knees, unable to move. The scent of his cologne is intoxicating when he pulls your body against his, like an open fire in the woods. He looks down at you, determined and unhesitating, and says flatly, "How sad." 

He leans down with a kiss: full-on and inflaming. Your skin burns from the inside out. The taste of whiskey lingers on his lips; the tenderness of his kiss is a surprise. The tip of his nose bumps into yours as you sink into the kiss. His kisses are long and slow, matching the rhythm of your bodies moving as one.

He breaks away, leaning his forehead against yours. "Let me feel your pussy. Yeah?"

You're hypnotized and with a nod and a returning kiss, his hand slides up your thigh, up to the hem of your panties, and carefully finds the skin underneath. Your breath hitches in your throat and you part your legs, as though powerless to resist. 

His breathing sinfully against your ear. Then, he slips one finger inside you. It's rough, almost desperate, but enough to make you throb for more. Biting back a moan, you lean against the door to find some much-needed balance.

"You're so fucking wet," he says, nearly groaning the words against your neck, taking a bite at it. Two digits in, he continues fingerfucking you slowly while circling his thumb around your clit.

He stares right into your eyes like he wants to see every sensation he's causing, he keeps bringing you closer and closer to the edge—and you're fucking ready to jump. With heavy breaths and electricity running up and down your body, you melt into his touch, doing your best to stare back at him. To you, it's a fucking challenge.

"Fuck," you moan. He grins.

You grab the back of his head, roughly in a desperate attempt to gain some control, but can't keep yourself from moaning loudly when he starts fervently kissing your neck like a fucking tootsie pop and he's trying to get to the middle. He pulls his fingers out and slides them up, rubbing my clit with just the tip of his index.

Then, you hear an upstairs door slam shut. You quickly come to a conscious state and reach down to push his hand away. He gets the message and helps you fix the skirt of your dress. He looks so rough and tempestuous but acts so precious and sweet, you want to keep him like a stray dog.

He pulls away when the footsteps down the stairs increase in volume. You act as if you are looking for your keys in your purse. He reaches down and takes a handful of your ass. You gasp and look up at him and spot who is skipping down the stairs. "Hey, Britt!" Too cheery but you always were an overactor in your middle school plays. "Where you headed?"

Brittany was a couple of years older than you. She's one of the few people you could consider a friend in your building. The rest were either crackheads and/or cat ladies that'll die in their own vomit. Brittany and her roommate were fun.

"Headed to Brad's for the night." Her on-and-off-again boyfriend. They were either back together now or booty calling.

"Have fun!"

She eyes him—you really should get his name—before she rounds the landing's railing. She can probably see his hand on your ass. "You too!"

You look at him as he watches for Brittany waiting to see her exit. Then, he snaps back and attacks your lips. His hands are quick, spreading up your thigh again. He touches your clit and you feel rushed.

"Oh, fuck—"

He moves his mouth way down your neck, gently biting your collarbone and your knees nearly give out, but he steadies you with his free hand. The pressure on your sweet spot; his lips wantingly kissing every inch of exposed skin; the audacity of this man.

It doesn't take long, a few more rubs and then he pinches your clit and you let go, unable to hold on any longer, and fall into him. Heart pounding, you revel in the euphoric feeling like a sinner who's found God. He holds you up until you find your footing. Your foreheads pressed together as you share shallow breathing nearly in sync. 

You laugh like a giddy little girl. "You're ambitious."

"Lucky you were wearing a dress and not down on your knees." His voice is low and husky, only weakening your guard.

"You probably would have already came by the time she interrupted."

"Wanna test it?"

*

a/n: this might be the prequel to "everything is romantic." i can't help it if all i do is write prequels & sequels!

[blingblong55]

So into you-Keegan P. Russ NSFW

Based on a request:

Keegan Russ with 24 and 5 with a cherry on top and so you can actually say yes I'll even add sprinkles it can be m or f reader tbh i don't care --- F!Reader, smut, MDNI, breeding kink, dad's best friend(DBF), unprotected!sex, age gap, all characters are of consenting age(18+)

A/N: it's a well-done deal.

Your dad had served in the Marines with Keegan before he retired and began working elsewhere, Keegan had become a huge part of your adult life. After introducing him to his daughter, he and you grew close. For one, he was at least four years younger than your dad but still much older than yourself. It was around springtime when he came to your parents' house, your parents celebrating their anniversary and you coming back home from a long work trip.

"There she is," Keegan opens his arms and you hug him. "Looking much older now, huh." you tease and he playfully nudges your arm. Dinner went great, all stories from everyone's adventures being told but one thing changed, that being him. He no longer looked at you with innocent eyes, now all there was, was lust. After your parents returned to their bedroom, you and Keegan stayed in the lounge, his hand placed on your thigh. "You've changed, R/N," his voice smooth, filled with some newfound passion. You would be lying if you said you never found him attractive, he was after all a very attractive man.

Much conversation led to his fingers teasing the hem of your shorts. "Keegan-" You wanted to stop him but deep down knew you wanted what he wanted too. "It's okay, I promise to be gentle~" he smirks and without any warning, his lips fall on yours. You let him take lead, his body and yours having the same reaction, "Keegan, is this...this isn't..." but each time you tried to make some excuse he would hush you by making your hnads explore his body. "I don't know i'f i'll be able to control myself, R/N." his voice raspy. His ever needy body pressed to yours, not wanitng any space left between either of you. "Let me have you," he whispers and you nod.

"I need words, sweet girl."

"Yes,...you can have me, all of me," you beg and he smirks. He could do this with you for hours. With one smooth hold, he takes you upstairs, placing you on your bed. "I've waited so long to have you, R/N. The moment you walked in, wearing this-" he licks his lips, unzipping his trousers and then stroking his cock under his boxers. "God, you are such a beautiful view." he leans forward, now on top of you as his fingers linger on your chest. your nipples getting aroused by his grip on them. "I've been wanting to make a move on you," he kisses your neck and eagerly removes your shirt and shorts.

Next thing you knew, your delicate panties were on the floor, and he was still stroking himself. "I won't touch you unless you tell me to," he admits. "I want you to touch me. Please touch me, Keegan," the way you said his name, was like a sweet melody to his ears. "That's my girl." his fingers touching your folds, "I can already tell my sweet girl is so wet for me." he kisses you again. His fingers get coated in your wetness, and you moan as his fingers rub your clit, he looks at you, a smirk on his face. "That's it, let me ruin you for all these guys you meet."

He loved the idea of you never getting any release from any other man but him. He knows deep down, he is the only one who knows how to please you. He bent down, his lips to your hips, leaving a trail of wet kisses on them as he slowly reaches to lick your wet cunt. "Oh, my sweet girl, you taste like heaven." His tongue teases your swollen clit. And his own tip begging to be pleased by some sort. "Moan for me, princess," he begs and begins to eat you out. His moans and groans send vibrations to your sensitive clit. Fingers pumping into you and then he gets back up.

"Can I fuck you, my angel?"

"Please~"

"Atta, girl"

His hips rocking as his length parted your now needy and very wet pussy. His tip pleasing you in ways you never knew your body could feel. "Yes. Oh god yes." you whimper. He places kisses on your collar bone and tits. "Fuck, you're so tight," his lips on yours. It was electric,, all the waves of pleasure he was sending thrugh your body. He ruined you in less than ten minutes of fucking you, you both know that very well. "Just imagine yourself, getting stuffed with my cum," he whsieprs, he keeps thrusting. His eyes on yours, the ones you could barely keep open. Another moan, this time like a mewl. "God, you make the prettiest sounds ever," he comments.

"I want more~"

"I know baby, I know," he kisses your shoulder.

"Say you need me," he continues to kiss your shoulder and neck. "I need you. Fuck, I need you, Keegan," you whisper as he sends more waves of pleasure through you. It wasn't just meaningless sex between you two, it was the unspoken tension that had been building up since your twenty-second birthday. It was love in the form of a forbidden fruit. He loved the way your body moved with his, the rhythm of his thrusts making your tits bounce, your hardened nipples being felt on his own chest.

"I need you so bad, Keegan~"

That was as much as it took to make him lose all control. "Fuck, R/N, you don't know what you're doing to me," his voice hoarse. "I want you to milk me. I want that greedy pussy of yours to fucking milk me for all I'm worth," he demands. As he begins to fuck himself deeper into you, he knows that by the way you clench around him, you are near the edge. His big hand on your tit, gripping it. "Come for me, R/N," he pauses between words, trying his best to keep his own hot seed inside before you come. "I need you to come on my cock," he demands.

His body pinned you down to the mattress, your hands gripping his arms and back, leaving definite scratches. "Keegan," you moan. "I know baby, but I want you to come now," he demands once more. Your back arched, his mouth fell on your tits. Kissing them and nibbling on them. He rubs your clit, circling his thick fingers around the sensitive tissue, being rough, then soft with it. You shut your eyes and come undone on his cock. In that same moment, you felt his thrust slow down, his grip and groans increase but are still low. "R/N," he growls and then stays there, letting all of his cum flow into you.

Both of you panting and kissing through both of your climaxes. He lets out a chuckle and kisses the top of your nose, "You are lucky I can't treat you like a slut," he moves some of your hair away from your face. "What do you mean?" your hands caress his back. "If it weren't for your parents sleeping down the hall, I'd fuck you like the little slut we both know you are." He kisses your lips before pulling out of you. His cum dripping down your cunt, just like he wanted. "I wasn't too rough right, my angel?"

"No. I liked it," you kiss his lips and he smiles. "Good, that's good my girl." he kisses you back.

Tags: @liyanahelena @lazybutsexy

[blueparadis]

MERCY ꕀ HIGURUMA HIROMI.

+. CWs —» f!reader, sub-dom portrayal,mention of bdsm relationship,age gap, f! & m!oral,angst undertones. 1k word count.

+. SUMMARY —» A little quickie before lunch wouldn’t ruin your appetite or would it ?

+. NOTES —» don't mind me realizing one fine morning that he got such a pu$$y eating nose\\ REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED \\ back to blog navigation. tags — @6-022-10-23 @orchid3a

At first he said he would like to return the favor but truth to be told it is now embarrassing, to some extent it is even tormenting; to be seated like this, legs folded and knees apart from each other as your hands rush on your barely clad body like dashing waves on shore. Your wet cunt against his panting mouth. It feels like he is snatching your soul out of your body whenever his mouth covers your cunt to suck off your cunt making your teeth voluntarily violate your puffy lips that has still the aftermath of the blow job you just gave to him a while ago being under his desk. Mr. Higuruma Hiromi is exceptionally kind today. Isn't he such a gentleman for doing this?

Yes. He is but that is just for today. He does not really show this kind of mercy. Either he makes you read the papers while making you sit on his lap and of course without your panties on. One pause or one stammer as you read he stops playing with you and dare you turn your head to look him in the eye, lest this wealthy criminal lawyer knows more than thousands ways to punish you than the Gods you pray to. Sometimes Hiromi even asks you to try some new outfits and just spend the day working, actually working. He likes this, the carefully crafted session where he is your dom, you are his sub and nothing else matters. Perhaps just one fact that how he is fully aware of your emotions towards him yet refuses to acknowledge it; it does not matter that you harbor feelings for him or the fact that whatever he is doing is a great specimen of unethical work, to some extent sabotaging the professional relationship between the two of you. It is almost like fetching a bucket of freshwater in the dawn from a pond when all the dirt has settled to the bosom after such a long lonely night.

And now, he is just holding your hips while his tongue is at work, lapping up on your bare cunt, slurping your juices as if he is quenching his thirst for ichor. His deft finger squeezes your cheeks every time you glide against his mouth, the tip of his nose grazing the apex of your vagina.

“mmm-mnhhh” he hums sternly and you can feel it in your gut that he is not getting the full taste of you. Why are you moving so much? You glance at him in the eye as your knees come in contact with the skin of the couch. Hiromi closes his eyes after his lips stretch to a beautiful crescent full of pride; and once his eyes are closed his mouth and tongue get more devoted in distilling your climax from your body. Your back arch, hands roam all over your igniting skin and then you push forward clamping around the hand rest of the couch as his tongue does one final full lap against your lips before sucking on your bud blacking your eyes for a second and then, it stills.

The climax fades and you back away giving him space to sit but your back touches his folded legs and when you look up to him, there is no ounce of further longing, rather a famished look. Now, that’s rare.

Clearing your throat, you say, “I’m sorry Sir.” because you dare not stare too long in those eyes unless. . .

“It’s okay.” Hiromi quips. “You can look at me. You have earned it.” but you still do not. What if it's one of his tricks? Or a test? Or maybe he is just teasing you.

Your eyelids flap like the wings of a drowning bird as his arm slowly approaches you, to chin your face up, his face inclining towards yours, lips thread apart whispering, “It's okay. You can kiss me now.”

You still hesitate ; your lips do not yet all it does it to part. You can smell yourself on him. His wet lips and tip of the nose glistening against the light. “I would like you to kiss me now.”

You lean to kiss him; his hand firmly rests on your bare chest stopping you, his knuckles are still flushed. You gulp and murmur, “Thank you, Sir.” Ahhhh! Those eyes. Those beautiful galactic eyes that once looked up to him with so much respect are now filled with tears. He rubs his thumb over your cheeks. It is as dry as a desert. It is fascinating how you do not let those tears fall from your eyes. Never.

“ please, i would like you to kiss me, y/n.” he murmurs almost like a prayer and then kisses your cheeks before you kiss him back. Your hands are still hesitant to touch him, his collar to deepen the kiss but when you feel him pulling away your fingers take root along his neck grazing back to his undercut. His sudden touch on your breasts remind you how your top still clustered around your waist. You welp; you moan as the kiss continues so does his hand kneading your boobs but it does not stop there. He pinches your nipple, harder than before, makes you flinch and breaks the kiss only to ask, “Do I have any meeting scheduled within the next 30 mins?”

He sounds desperate. He has never been someone to return the favor instantly. Why now? Not to mention, he rarely forgets meetings appointments. He does not really need a secretary for that. You are here as his apprentice that he picked because you shined like a pink pearl in the bed of empty oysters.

“Yes.” you lie. “Would you like to reschedule it?” You quip quickly before the guilt starts to thicken and mixes with shame.

“No.” Hiromi zips up your top. His fingers linger under your chin for a moment before he says, “you know,” the tip of his thumb grazes your lower lip stretching it downwards. “I can always detect a lie no matter how much I don't want to, no matter how much the truth hurts to know than to believe in a lie.”

You stutter as you try to apologize. “I just—he immediately keeps his index finger over your lips but does not touch you.

“confused with timings of other meetings?” he finishes your line of thought. Leaning forward he whispered into your ears, “I wanna let this one slide.” Retreating he meets your eyes, hands resting on the couch, him leaning away from you. “I don't wanna fight ‘this’ — he swings his index finger between you and him as he finishes, “ anymore.”

Your eyebrows jump. Fear, surprise and joy rush inside your heart all at once. There is a few moments of silence before he exclaims in his stern ordering voice, that he generally uses in court sessions. “Get ready. We're going out for lunch.”

You get up and walk away to the restroom while fixing your skirt. ‘don’t wanna fight this anymore’ What a joke! There is nothing to fight. Mercy has never been so brutal before.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Quick note: I've gotten a bunch of submissions lately that amount to "is this an acceptable age gap to date or am I the asshole" and it's getting a bit much, and so I'm going to be limiting those for the moment. We don't need to keep re-litigating precisely what number of years is okay between partners, so unless there's some other reason you might be the asshole in your situation this maybe isn't the place for it.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

my girl 5

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as possible age gap, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your brother’s friend from work starts hanging out a lot more often. (short!reader)

Characters: Captain Syverson

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

Forty minutes pass. The pizza has to be cold by now and your stomach is growling for a slice. You give in and text Isaac. You rarely do that. He barely says much to your face as it is. Not unless he’s making a dumb joke. 

'Where r u dummy?' 

You hit send and set the phone down. He's always been the type to wander off. When he was a kid, you remember helping your mom trawl the block for him. He would disappear into his room and never come out, only to escape through the window to find some trouble elsewhere. 

He texts back a couple minutes later. You can hear Sy pacing on the porch. You've never been alone with him. In fact, you're rarely in the house by yourself this long. 

'Ryan wants to hit up Barons. Gonna be late.' 

Frig. Why would he do that? Especially knowing Sy was on his way. This is going to be even more awkward. 

You’re not sure how to handle this. Usually, your mom takes care of guests. She’s so good at it. You just stay in the background with your books and help where you can. You live more in your head than you do out loud. 

You take the pizza and put it in the oven to warm up. You can't waste his kindness on Isaac’s ignorance. You go to the front door and peek your head out. 

"So er Isaac isn't coming." You say. 

Sy stops short and faces you, "oh. But... you're all alone." 

"Yeah, but that's okay. You can stay for pizza. I put it in to reheat. I mean you went to all that trouble." 

"Oh," he looks disappointed. "Too bad. If ya don't mind, I'm starving." 

"Of course." You smile. 

You feel bad. He came all this way and your brother ditched him. Now he's stuck with you. 

“Sorry about Isaac. I guess it must be important.” 

“Nah, don’t be sorry for him. Don’t you make excuses for him either. He’s that way, isn’t he? Unreliable,” He tuts. 

“Right but... well, he tries, right?” You say. 

Sy grumbles, neither in confirmation or denial. Why would he keep your brother around if he wasn’t good at his job? He hardly seems like the type to stand for that. You don’t ask. It wouldn’t be appropriate. 

You go back inside and he follows not far behind. He appears in the dining room without his hat and boots. You bring out the pizza and put a slice on your plate. You ask how many he wants and you dish him up two. 

Before you can sit, you pause. You almost forgot. 

"One sec." You raise a finger and stand straight.  

You flit out without explanation. His confused expression stains your vision. Living so long in your head, sometimes you forget to put your thoughts into words. 

You go to the fridge and grab two of the strawberry sodas. You return to the table and hand him one. He thanks you an examines the label. 

He twists the cap off easily as you struggle with your own. You forgot an opener. The ridges bite into your palm. 

"Want some help?" He reaches across the table. 

"Sure." 

You hand it over and he uncaps it with a soft his from the bottle neck. He plunks it by your plate as you thank him. He offers a funny smile through his beard. 

You take a sip and he swigs. He hums and eyes the bottle again, "you're right. It's sweet." He sets it down and picks up a slice. "I like sweet." 

You nod and pick up the pizza. You nibble on the end as he takes a bigger bite. Where you make yourself small and unoffensive, he's large and unbothered. His eyes meet yours as once more your mind wanders to orcs and their burly figures. 

"It's nice. This. Uh, us. Um, what I mean is..." he stammers. "Not so bad without the rest, huh?" 

"No, it's not bad," you shrug and smile. 

"Did I say they're showing the trilogy down at the drive-in next month? Read it online." He says. You can tell he's just trying to fill the lull. You appreciate the effort. 

"That's cool." You say. You knew. Your mom was supposed to go with you. 

"Yeah, your brother wasn't so into it. Said he's busy." He scoffs. "Suppose I can make the truck bed up and drive down... lotsa room. If you're interested or something." 

You take another bite as you process. It takes too long to realise he’s asking you to go with him. You’re not as good at subtext in real life. 

“That would be really nice but you know, if you feel bad for me, you don’t have to go to all that trouble.” You chuckle nervously. 

“Feel bad? About what?” 

“I’m a bit of a loner. I know that. And my mom just left. I guess it would seem kind of... sad?” You say. 

“I don’t think your sad.” He brushes his hand over his head. “I think... I think you’re really smart and that.” 

“Because I read?” You wonder. 

“Guess so. I never read books like this before. I don’t read much, you know? But I thought...” His face pales and he folds his pizza in half and puts it down. “I dunno. Guess I was looking for new things to do. Don’t got much else, myself. Don’t think you’re the only one on their own.” 

He gulps and rubs his neck. He stands abruptly, startling you. 

“Think I said too much. I’m sorry. I ruined dinner and all that.” He reaches back to steady the chair before it can topple. 

“No, you didn’t...” you frown up at him. You didn’t mean to hurt his feelings. You really just didn’t want to be in the way. “Please. I didn’t mean anything. I was only letting you know, like, it’s not a big deal. It’s really nice of you to invite me.” 

“It was stupid.” 

“I don’t think so. Unless you do.” You force a smile. “I’d be really lonely eating dessert by myself, you know?” 

“Dessert?” He lifts a brow. 

“Oh sure. You ever tried Pocky? They’re kinda not much but I got a bunch of new flavours.” You offer. “But if you got to go, that’s fine too. You should take some of this with you. I can’t eat it all.” 

He looks down then at you again. His cheek ticks and he shakes out his hands. He makes himself sit and clears his throat. 

“I’m real sorry. I wasn’t meanin’ to act up. I just... I didn’t wanna be a problem.” He shifts in the seat. “I’ll stay.” 

“Not a problem. You brought dinner.” You say. Your mom would never let someone walk out like that. But you’re not your mom. You’re not a very good host at all. 

[phoenixyfriend]

Okay I'm seeing some misuse of tags on AO3 so let's just clarify:

De-aging is not "I am making this character younger in this fic, as if they have always been younger, in order to work with some shipping, or for a role swap."

De-aging and Age Regression are lumped together in AO3's tag system due to the thematic overlap.

(Neither of them are "for the purposes of this fic, character B is younger than in canon, so that there isn't an age gap with character A.")

It is a parent tag, with a variety of tropes equated to it. Due to the overlap of themes, a lot of people don't differentiate when tagging unless they are specifying for an individual character.

De-aging: magical/sci-fi reverse aging, usually instantaneous. Refers specifically to a physical return to youth. Mental/developmental age change is optional, and retaining adult memories is optional.

Age regression: a character is reverted to childhood developmentally and mentally, possibly with memories, possibly without; physical regression is optional, but if it's tagged with the "age regression/de-aging" tag instead of just age regression, it's usually going to be both.

IRL, "age regression" refers to an individual mentally returning to a younger age, usually childhood, generally as a coping mechanism. It is not the same thing as age play. In fic, however, a mental/developmental regression in this manner may be tagged as non-sexual age play, in order to separate itself from the sci/fi fantasy plots, though "Age Regression" as an individual tag, without mention of de-aging, may still refer to a mental reversion as coping.

Both tropes are in some way about a character who is in-text usually an adult being, temporarily or permanently, returned to a previous point in their life, whether mentally or physically, sometimes both.

"This character is, and always has been, younger than the canon, in order to facilitate the plot I want." does not fall under de-aging, or age regression, as the change is not itself an event or plot point

In my experience, de-aging is usually for fluff or angst purposes, much like time-travel fics where a character runs into a younger version of themselves or their loved ones, and proceeds to take care of them.

Mental regression sans physical is usually used either as a kink thing, or as mental health exploration in the same vein as depression comfort fics, falling into the family of sick fic.

If you dabble in the de-aging parts of fandom, let me know your thoughts!

(If you don't have a backround in de-aging fandom as either a writer or a reader, just try to listen to what's being said by those of us who are already in here and have been for a while.)

[roboj0e]

Wade would bully Peter bc someone said he would and wrote it happening and bc y'all are so boring and annoying. Fanfiction isn't about what's canon or strictly in character thats why they're called transformative works. I think y'alls weird obsession with what's cannon while also trying to heavily police what and how ppl make fiction is honestly been the death of fandom and creativity.

There hasn't been a large scale cross over in fandom in years that either wasn't completely ironic or torn down by bullies that it fizzled out bc y'all don't know how to have fun. Even that recent debate over how sans would react to his brother death is further proof of y'all's lack of understanding of interpretation and fan works. Fanwork are supposed to exist in the reality of the fiction of the person who wrote it. NOT what IS the right interpretation bc there are NO right interpretation except for what is made canon which can be anything bc WE aren't the creators.

Who cares what happens in the comics. The comic themselves don't care what happens in other comic runs unless it's specifically meant to be a spin off/continuation.

Wade is SUPPOSED to be a morally ambiguous character. I know y'all have washed him of all the ambiguity bc ppl have told you that how ur supposed to approach fiction and y'all can not perceive a protag who might not be the best person who ur also NOT supposed to hate (god forbid a protag not have Jesus adjacent morality) but thats what he is. He'll do whatever anyone wrote him doing bc he's not real and also anything thats morally ambiguous or toxic bc that's one of his character traits and what was supposed to set him apparent from other heros he's not even a hero he's an antihero. I can not believe y'all are moralizing something as tame as bullying. Bullies making up with their victims happens in DISNEY movies now y'all tryna make that into some problematic take. OMG. And this is from someone who WAS bullied briefly until I learned how to fight and stand up for myself.

Thinking that someone who romanticizes something morally wrong couldn't have possibly been through that experience is the direct antithesis of fiction. It also makes no sense. Plenty of ppl write from experience but also sometimes turning it into a story in which they control how they interact with a bully does A LOT FOR REGAIN CONTROL OF THOSE NEGATIVE EXPERIENCES. STOP TRYING TO SUS OUT WHO HAS TRAUMA OR NOT. also STOP thinking that you are an authority of certain traumatic experiences you aren't every experiences are very VERY personal and the portrayal of those experiences should have NOTHING to do with yours bc there is NO way to encapsulate all lived experiences. And even if someone hasn't been bullied who cares again decenter yourself from a fictional scenario that should in now way be a representation of you bc u are not the center of the universe.

(THIS SECTION UNDERNEATH IS MY HEAD CANON U DONT HAVE TO TELL ME U DONT LIKE AGE GAPS IDC)

Secondly wade only wouldnt bully Peter TO ME bc I'm not a teenager in highschool like some of y'all and highschool fics don't interest me and wade to me shouldne even be in highschool and always be the much older one in the dynamic. They shouldnt even be near the same age for me. But whatever floats ur boat. You can do whatever you wan't but when y'all make these long posts telling OTHER ppl what they can and can't do OR how you think YOUR interpretation of the character is the most right your crossing a line frl.

Edit: I read both Deadpool and spiderman comics btw plus the very wonderful spiderman/Deadpool run. GASP I know someone who likes the source material but doesn't adhere strictly to it bc I actually have an imagination and like to have fun instead of kissing marvels feet and remaining in a narrow interpretation of a character. A rare breed I guess.

Edit edit: I also think alot of y'all have a very romcom take on spideypool. And thats definitely fine love my fair share of fluff. But I have a much more complicated take on them. Again I think an age gap compliments these complications. It adds to an imbalanced perspective of both of them towards each other. I'm also very uninterested in a spideypool that grow healthy together or peter "fixing" wade. I want them to overcomplicate their relationship but for it to also be a healthy balance of comedic and fun and hot monkey sex that keeps them interested in a less than perfect relationship. A sorta push and pull from both sides.

[child-of-helios]

hello. I've a rather stupid question. I've only read the books once, as a kid, and I don't understand why people hate calpyso x leo. whys it so bad? why does everyone seems to hate it on here?

xxx,

eurydice

First of all, this is my first ever ask, I've made it mother :D Secondly, I'd gladly explain! Though please note that it really has been a good while since I've read the books too, so my memory is kinda foggy :] Warnings for: Slight mentions (but not too much) of rape, pedophilia and mental illness (oh boy this is a tough one)

So, I have made a post abt this before, but it was written in a fit of rage so not my proudest moment (but my most popular post, oops). Anyways, I feel that the hate towards Calypso x Leo is because of a few reasons. 1. It simply didn't get enough development to feel worth it imo. Similar to Jason x Piper, I felt like there wasn't enough there to warrant a canon ship. There is also the fact that personally, I thought that their dynamic was more of a familial or that of siblings, which made me uncomfortable. I would've much rather have them be friends. 2. The uncomfortable age gap. It feels very weird because while yes, Calypso was depicted as a teenager, she is thousands upon thousands of years old. The fact that she fell in love with a literal child is incredibly weird. It was weird enough with Percy, but at least they didn't end up dating. With Leo though, she did end up dating him and the age gap feels very odd. Its even weirder knowing she had a relationship with Odysseus, who by that point was a pretty old dude so she was probably very mature and an adult (though she doesn't act like it). 3. Calypso is kinda a rapist. In the Odyssey myth, she forces Odysseus (a married man) to sleep with her. I'm sorry, but I can't support any relationship involving a rapist unless its rapist x prison cell. It makes me uncomfortable because she could very well take advantage of Leo, a mentally ill teenager with self-esteem issues. 4. Her toxic treatment of Leo. Calypso was very pissed when Leo arrived on her island, rightfully so after what she had gone through, but even then her treatment of his was outright cruel, especially compared to that of Percy and Odysseus. She made him sleep outside, exposing him to the elements after he got flung through the air and ended up on her island, which must've caused some damage. Then after they started dating, I still felt uncomfortable reading about the two, because their dynamic just didn't work, and I don't recall her apologizing to him for her treatment of him. 5. Leo's arc was thrown away. I think the worst of all, is how this impacted Leo's character. He should've had an arc where he learnt to love himself, but because of Calypso he didn't. I think the moral was supposed to be: 'even if you're mentally ill or have problems, you still deserve love!' but it came over more as: 'ignore your issues and get all your love from someone else.' Isn't it more important for kids to learn about self-love? And as an extra: what could've been. I think that Leo shouldn't have gone back for Calypso, that that ship shouldn't have happened. I prefer him going back to Echo and them learning about self-love together as buddies (and maybe evolving into more than that). Echo was stuck in an abusive relationship with the Narcissist, so I think it would a good arc for them both. I also think that if you really wanted a romance, Jason x Leo would've been much better. We know that Rick can write good gay romances, we know that Piper turns out to be a lesbian, so why not make Jason and Leo gay? I think it would add much more to the tragedy of Jason's death, but that's for another post (and this one is getting too long already oops). In conclusion, I think Caleo is bad for many reasons, but especially because it didn't have enough time to develop and the dynamic was simply too creepy for me to get invested in. Sorry for the super long post- Have a lovely day :D

[yellowbunnydreams]

Do you need some Vitamin D? (Incubus! William x Oblivious! F! Reader) [Part 10]

~I'm sorry! Okay! We needed some angst!! I hope this chapter makes it up to you. And don't worry, this isn't the end either.~

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* Want more or something different? *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

@ruh--roh-raggy @xp-doggy @redbunny03 @marigold-petalz @seviliet @astinkerofarat @iamnotwiddle @imtiredshow

CW: 18+ MINORS DNI. Fluff, age gap (Reader 20's - William Afton 40's(?)), teratophilia, meet-cute, punny pick-up lines, scenes of working out, minor porn-logic, ditzy! reader, could be classed as bimbo! reader?, size-difference, flirting, monster-lover, sexual innuendos, Monster! AU. Angst. Extra monster! Jealousy, defenstration, mention of blood.

Henry had noticed that things seemed a little tense in Freddy's when he walked in that morning.

William was late coming into the office, which was unusual for his life-long friend and business partner. William Afton didn't do late unless he could help it, the only things he had ever known William to be late for, infact, were social functions when he was with his college girlfriend Clara. But something seemed off to the were-bear's senses as even one of the members of staff seemed particularly tense.

And of course, he noticed a hastily scrawled note on the space in the schedule where your name sat where it had been erased and replaced with Claire's.

He sighed and ran his hands through his curly, dark hair. The whole day had been plagued with a sense of melancholy from the incubus crammed at his desk behind Henry. Barely moving, hyper-focused on his paperwork with the formerly customary 'Afton scowl'. Henry knew William had a chronic case of resting bitch face sometimes, but he had thought his friend has seemed generally much happier with everything and had been smiling more.

"How's-" Henry said your name suddenly, breaking the silence that had fallen over the small office space as William paused and barely glanced up from his work. "I noticed she wasn't on the schedule today."

"Why should I know?" The were-bear blinked at the calloused reply, feeling himself reeling as he got the sudden sinking feeling that something had transpired that he hadn't been privy to. Taking out his phone and texting away as he feigned disinterest.

"Because she's been living at your house?"

"Not anymore she's not." William growled, feeling his chest tightening unpleasantly at the thought. His salt and pepper hair was tousled like he hadn't quite bothered to brush it, even his stubble seemed to be unkempt as William rubbed his hands over his face tiredly. Henry looked at William and watched his pen hovering above the paperwork, poised to write something the incubus had forgotten.

Henry paused and shuffled over his chair, sitting opposite William and making the older, broader man look up with a scowl and furrowed brow as if to ask what he wanted.

"Talk to me William, something is clearly bothering you."

"And what if I'm just glad to have my own damn house back?"

"I think you're lying to yourself, firstly," Henry raised an eyebrow at the still scowling incubus, who thumped his foot in retaliation, although Henry was quite used to his friend's bullshit by now. "And secondly, what happened to all that flirting you were doing? I mean it was bad, sure, cringey even! But I haven't seen you smile that much around somebody. Ever."

William thought for a moment and sighed as he leaned back in his slightly too small office chair. Placing the pen down on his cluttered desk and his frown deepening as he realised that Henry was right. He had been happy, he'd been smiling a lot more and he'd even spent more time out of the workshop without having to be coaxed with food, a cigarette break or once, even a trail of candies leading towards a precariously balanced cardboard box ontop of a door and Henry peering out from around the edge holding some string.

"She...texted me last night."

"Okay. And what did it say?" William pulled his phone out, wincing as his thumb ran over the semi-deep scratch in his screen from where he had frustratedly and accidentally clawed it the night before.

"'How do you ask a guy out you like?'" Reading the text out loud, Afton winced, swallowing hard as that ugly green jealousy raised it's head again. But Henry simply raised his eyebrow again and rolled his hand, gesturing for the incubus to continue.

"''Well, guys like it when you're blunt with them. You should just ask them.'"

"And then?"

"'Would you like to go out with me?'" Henry smiled widely but coughed to hide his excitement as the rabbit man stared at his phone, frowning and making Henry's smile slowly fall as he got a sinking feeling in his stomach.

"Please, tell me you said 'yes' to that poor girl." William looked quizzically at the were-bear, tipping his head to one side as he ran his thick fingers through his hair.

"No? I said she just needed to say that to whoever she was asking out. It was clear she had somebody in mind." The incubunny growled as that jealous feeling that knotted his stomach up and he thumped his foot hard enough to make the desk shake slightly. Henry felt his face falling from the usual cheer into a paled scowl as he stood up. Pacing around to William's side, he moved his hand up behind his friend's back as if he was going to soothe William's temper.

And a bear paw smacked him in the back of the head instead.

William's head snapped forwards, blinking as he tried to clear his vision and standing up abruptly. Feeling his sharp teeth press against the inside of his lips as they curled into a snarl. Claws digging into the palm of his hands as he seemed to tower slightly over the more ursine looking Henry. Both monster men at various stages of their respective transformations. William's eyes purple and slit pupiled. Henry's blown out and dark. Both sporting claws as Henry tried to not let his own primal form take over.

"What the actual fuck, Henry?" The low baritone growl that reverberated around his chest would make most other monsters back down, and certainly would make a human loose their nerve, but Henry stood firm and put his bear paws on his hips, little round bear ears pinned back and his head low, snorting loudly.

"What the fuck am I doing? God you're so fucking stupid, Afton!" Henry placed his paws over his face and dragged them down lightly, careful not to catch himself with his claws accidentally. "She DID ask the guy she liked."

"Who? How come you know?"

"IT'S YOU, YOU FUCKING FLUFFY BRAINED DIDDLE DEMON!" Henry shouted, his fingers curling into fists in exasperation as he looked up at his friend. Watching the pinned back rabbit ears slowly lift then slowly lower again as a look of confusion and horror crossed his grey-ish furred features.

"What?"

"My god, are you so far up your own ass you can't hear me now? She asked you. She literally asked you how you would like to be approached with being asked out and then she did and you blew her off. Great fucking job, you absolute muppet."

Going back to his usual family friendly self as he shook out the transformations and snorted again, growling as he spoke, unhappy that he had had to resort to violence to snap William from his pity-party. William's ears felt like they were ringing as his body slowly returned to most of it's normal stature and features, his claws still remaining as his foot began to tap nervously against the cluttered office carpet.

"Oh...oh fuck."

"Yeah, you getting it now?"

"Oh... oh fuck I have to find out where she is. I...Oh fuck I have so much apologising to do." William moved on auto-pilot, feeling his legs partly turning to give him a little extra speed as Henry looked after him and swore under his breath, following behind and trying to make sure there were not traces of ursine features left on his face.

"William! William Afton!"

Afton didn't hear him as he tried to walk himself calmly into the dining room. Eyes wildly scanning and not caring in that moment if his secret was blown wide as he looked for one person in particular. He hadn't been particularly caring about sorting the rota out when he got the sense that you weren't coming in that morning, but he could already feel his heart pounding so hard and fast in his chest he was afraid it might burst in his chest. Finally, he spotted who he was looking for, and quickly smoothed his shirt back into place after his slight transformation, fingers running through his hair as he slowly and calmly made his way over.

Or at least, he hoped he looked calm and collected.

"Claire! Thank you for coming in on such short notice." He gave the smaller woman a wide smile as she stopped sweeping and looked up at him. Scowling heavily and turning her attention back to the broom as she swept up pizza crumbs and confetti from kid's birthday parties.

"I'm not talking to you Mr. Afton." She snapped, making William blink and wince as he had that sinking feeling that perhaps it was to be expected.

"Young lady, I-"

"I don't care. Zip! I'm not talking to you after what you did to-" She said your name and all his suspicions were confirmed. Wincing and cringing in on himself as he tried his best to hold his still human looking hands in a placating gesture.

"Look, I know that I-"

"Oh Mr. Emily! Wonderful, do you want to know what Mr. Afton's done?" Claire leaned against the broom and turned her glare towards Henry, who seemed a little flustered and out of breath, cheeks burning as his curls were a little wild.

"Claire. I know that William might have made some little mistakes, but I assure you, it's being handled." He assured, attempting to remain professional and courteous as the smaller woman scowled even more. He began to wonder for a moment if somebody had finally made a match for Afton's own face of displeasure.

"*Little mistakes*?" Claire spat, making Henry raise an eyebrow as William looked even more sheepish, pulling his hands back to his body as he cringed. "Do you know what he did? Did he actually tell you because I can tell you-"

"FOR FUCKS SAKE, *LISTEN*. William is *trying * to ask you where she is because he's been informed, by *me*, that his stupid ass couldn't see that he was the one being asked out." Henry decided to cut to the chase, knowing that they were going to get nowhere with Claire when he could see that William was itching to find you.

She looked between the two men, her forehead creased as she tried to see if one of them would crack and reveal that it was some cruel joke to be played on you when you weren't even there. But her complexion drained and paled as she stared, the dawning expression of realisation that Henry wasn't lying to cover for his business partner.

"Wait so he....you.."

"Actually wanted to say 'yes' if I had realised that she was actually asking me." William felt his foot tapping away on the mildly tacky carpet, his nose twitching as he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, but the expression on Claire's face as she formed a silent 'o' made his brow furrow and his nails dig into the skin on the back of his neck as his stomach sank. "Claire?"

The woman got out her phone and quickly scribbled down something on a loose receipt that she had kept in her pocket, handwriting shaking as she handed it to Henry, who in turn passed it to William, reading it and wondering why he'd been handed her address.

"Look, okay, she was really upset last night and so I told her to go on a date to get her mind off of it-" William's head snapped up as she held her hands out placatingly, a growl bubbling up in his throat, barely surpressed.

"With who?"

"I don't know, some guy from her apartment block. David, Damien.."

"Dave?"

"Yeah, that's-Mr. Afton?"

William Afton didn't wait as he began to set off from the pizzeria, allowing himself to growl as he began to change before he even hit the door. His sharp teeth filling his mouth, nails becoming claws as he ripped at his tie and tried to pull it from around his neck. It was like he was suffocating as he stumbled around the back of the building, feeling bones shifting under his skin as his body grew warmer as the fur started to sprout over his skin.

Dave fucking Miller.

He snarled as he kicked off his shoes, his feet changing as he managed to barely make it to the heavily sheltered back alleyways so he could complete his transformation. A growl constantly reverberating in his chest as he only kept one goal in his mind spiralling as he lost control for the first time in a long while.

He had to find you.

You hadn't quite planned on your landlord sitting opposite you in your apartment unit, but there Dave Miller was. Dressed in a t-shirt that had some suspicious stains on it and looking like it had been dragged out of the building's lost and found bin and a pair of black slacks. You had been a little confused when he had shown up wearing no shoes and only his socks, but you were grateful that at least he had shown up.

After crying for most of the night, Dave had come to knock on your door to ask what was up, apparently he could hear you quite clearly through the wall since your bedrooms were backed onto each other, which led to some embarrassing thoughts as to what else Dave might have heard had your relationship with William developed. But when you explained to the vampire what had transpired, he gave you an almost condescendingly lazy smile as he suggested that you should try dating him. Explaining that really, it made sense, a vampire was essentially a soft dip into the world of non-human dating, and it would give you a chance to see whether or not you wanted to even continue in that world.

It had seemed like a fantastic idea at the time.

But now you were sat in your own nice blouse and good jeans, watching as Dave swirled the wine glass in his hand and the thick red inside clung to the glass a little too long to allow you any thought that it could be a particularly viscous red wine. You were regretting the choice to not allow Dave to bring his customary mug around so that at least you wouldn't have to look at it. Dave called it 'exposure therapy'. He checked his watch for the fifth time in an hour, and you felt each one sending a sinking pit into your stomach.

"Do you have somewhere else to be?" Snapping slightly as the gaunt man looked up, lazy smile on his face and shaking his head slightly. Picking up the glass and sipping from it with an exaggerated sigh of appreciation.

"No no, sugar. Just waiting for the real date to begin." His words stung you, and you felt your eyes becoming hotter as tears pricked at them. Swallowing thickly as your hands curled around the cutlery you had set up on the kitchen counter, since you at least needed to eat in the traditional sense.

Dave suddenly perked up, looking towards your window and moving over towards it with that careful, lanky shuffle that held a shocking amount of grace in it for such an awkward looking man. Thin, willowy almost, but you could see in his bare arms as the sinewy muscles twitched as his bruised, dark circled eyes darted about. Never quite making eye contact until you least expected it.

He stood by your window as you felt yourself getting upset all over again, unsure why you had listened to Claire and allowed yourself to go on one date with somebody you didn't even really know when you have rather been sat on your couch watching re-runs of overly dramatized medical shows and eating a pint of ice-cream. Dave's fingers curling around the latch to your window before opening it out wide. It was the one above your fire-escape too, so it opened additionally wide, allowing a cool breeze to flow through the smaller space.

Then you heard it.

Heavy thumping. Growing closer, louder as something settled in your chest, heavy and bassy, before it even registered in your ears. The hair on the back of your neck instinctually stood up, eyes flickering about as you wondered what the sound was, although Dave seemed unperturbed as he continued to stare out of the window.

The sound finally clicked into place as something slammed into the door, hearing thin wood creaking under the weight of whatever it was as you jumped up out of your seat. Dave simply turned around and paced himself back to the counter, his expression serious for a moment as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders. Startling you as you felt his cool skin against yours, the way his long fingers touched the back of your neck and played with your hair making your skin crawl as you realised a little too late that his grip had tightened and forced you into the same spot.

The thumps grew more insistent. The door gave way slightly, and suddenly you could hear the noise that had been making your chest turn and feel uneasy.

Growling.

"My my, now we're getting somewhere, aren't we sugar?" Dave asked, sucking his teeth as he picked up the wine glass from the counter and swirled it. Making your nose fill with the smell of cold pennies.

"Dave?"

"Don't worry sweetheart, everything will be fine. Just promise me you won't freak out."

"Dave something is breaking down my door!" Struggling in his grip as memories of that one time you were broken into surging forwards as the growling assisted in fast-tracking your fight or flight response.

You knew that you were never winning that fight.

"Your real date has arrived."

Dave's cold, iron breath brushed your cheek as he leaned in and whispered, brushing his clammy lips against your skin as the door burst down. Splintering under the sheer force of what was behind it. Heart racing so loudly that you could feel Dave's thin fingers tapping along with it across the base of your skull.

An elongated hand gripped the upper part of the doorframe. Purple eyes glowing in the darkness beyond your doorway as a flat nosed face, teeth sharp and lip curled back into a snarl that displayed his elongated canines. You felt your breath catch in your throat as the yellowish-brown fur came into your sight, watching the claws drag against the plaster of the wall and gouge into it was the lumbering, hulking figure pulled itself in.

William Afton seemed taller, if that was somehow possible. His face less human as you realised his face had pushed out into a slightly lapine snout. His soft ears pinned back against his head and shoulders, the hunched position he was in to fit inside your apartment combined with his broad frame to fill the room and make him look even more intimidating. You realised after a second that his shirt was barely clinging on by some threads, tie like a ridiculous purple collar around his thick, furred neck as he seemed to be staring right at you.

No, not you, you realised. But Dave as you felt the vampire's grip on you tighten instinctually. Bringing the glass to his lips and drinking down the rest of it before setting it down on your counter. Planting a kiss on your cheek, eliciting a growl from William as he stalked towards Dave, panting and chest rising and falling rapidly as his hyper-focus on the vampire seemed to blind him to how small the space really was.

It was a blur of fur and movement that you almost missed as William lept forwards, grabbing hold of Dave in one of his monsterous paws and making you yelp as your landlord as wrenched away from you. A scream tearing itself from your lips as you watched William's fur and muscles ripple and he flung Dave through the window.

Naturally, you ran up to the windowsill, staring out and expected to see blood and gore dashed out on the concrete, but instead, what you saw confused you.

Dave was unmoving for a moment, before you could make out his thin frame lifting itself slowly. It looked wrong. Like all the angles weren't quite human. But your attention was on the big, chalk bullseye drawn on the sidewalk, your heart racing as you were filled with adrenaline. Watching as Dave managed to limp and slide himself over to a car that you hadn't noticed, the lights flicking on and the car slowly pulling out of the lot and into the night.

William's head pressed against your ribs as he tried to shove past to look through the window, but you turned and blocked it. Afraid, confused, and weirdly, you felt your heart aching as you looked at his features properly.

Whilst he looked rabbit-like when you had seen his monster form, and still recognisably humanoid in a lot of ways. This was different. Afton almost reminded you more of a hare, the fur less fluffy and more sleek to his hulking mass. But the sharp, jutting teeth that rendered him unable to hide them under his lips screamed predatory as those slit-pupils focused on you finally. Panting, the growl abating slightly as he seemed for a moment to not register who you were, and then realisation set in. You watched the animal face fill with confusion, with something warm, and then with horror as it dawned on him that you had watched him throw a man out of a window and break down your door.

Your ears filled with a soft sound as you were unable to take your eyes off of him, watching him attempt to stand and shaking his head like a wild animal that had gotten confused. Realising it was his body shifting and changing as it definitely shrunk a bit, his fur fluffing out and becoming more of the digitigrade legged rabbit humanoid that you had come to expect from William's monstrous form.

"Bunny..." He breathed, his deep, gravelly voice wavering as he reached out a hand to you before pulling it back to his chest. His eyes filling with worry as he looked at your confused, scared expression, feeling his heart swelling with self-doubt and loathing.

He had lost control. He had almost caught you up in his own ugly jealousy and gotten you hurt.

"William?" You were unsure of yourself, your own voice wavering as he nodded slowly. Both of you swallowing thickly as you began to head for the door, looking over the broken splinters. Stepping over them and feeling the incubus following your every move and following after you as you began to head down the stairs.

You needed some air.

The cold air bit at your skin in a way that was adrenaline inducing and soothing all at one. William's car was weirdly parked in the lot, but glancing at the rabbit man as he trailed sadly after you, his ears still pinned as he ran his hands over his furred face, and seeing his black slacks burst open at the bottom half of the seams, barely giving him tattered shorts, you somehow doubted he had driven there.

You sat on the hood of his car, your body shaking as the adrenaline passed and William stood barely within your reach. Looking anywhere but your face.

"What...Was..."

"That...wasn't pretty. It's what happens when I lose control. You deserve every explanation that I can give you." His voice still gravelly as he focused on your face finally, scanning you to see how you would take the information.

"You can lose control?"

"Yeah. Incubi are...well, no, demonic types in general are more prone to it. It gets messy quickly."

"What made you lose it?"

"Bunny..."

"No, William, you said I deserved an explanation, and I'm asking you." You managed to firm your voice, looking into his purple eyes and seeing his brows turning up as his expression saddened. His foot thumping his against the floor as he tried to think of how to word it. Taking a deep breath before he opened his mouth.

"You. You made me lose control." He swallowed as he ran his fingers through his fur and tried to stop the nervous tap his foot made against the concrete. Barely remembering taking his shoes off. "Well, more specifically, realising that you were on a date."

"You...turned into...that..because I was on a date?"

"Shit, that sounds awful. Bunny, god why is it so hard to speak to you? I'm an incubus, I'm a demonic being, admittedly third generation, but still. I don't like people, but talking has never been a problem until you arrived and I couldn't shake you from my thoughts." Growling as he thumped his hand against the hood of his car lightly, leaning over you and meeting your eyes finally.

"Bunny, if I had realised that you were asking me, god I...I would have said yes so many times over. I would have done so many things differently if I had known."

"You really didn't know?" You asked, incredulous as he nodded slowly, his ears perking slightly before flattening again, his nose twitching constantly as he looked away from your gaze.

"You've been thinking about me?"

"Constantly. I didn't mean to send that text to Henry, I wanted to send it to you! I purposely did it. Call me an old fool, but I...God, bunny, I want to worship the ground you walk on, you're my sunshine, and I understand if you don't want to ever see me after-"

You didn't give William a chance to continue speaking as you grabbed his tie and pulled him close, your eyes brimming with tears as the rabbit man babbled his inner thoughts to you in a heart-felt confession. He stumbled closer as your smaller frame tugged him in and he resisted to try and not crush you under his weight.

But as your lips met his, all that tense anxiety melted from his body and yours. Holding onto his tie as he was stupefied by the kiss for a moment before his thick, strong arms wrapped you up and held onto you tightly. Hearts pounding together as you broke off for air as you felt him shifting around you. The lips you kissed becoming less furred and feeling his beard scratching as your skin, thick, rough fingers stroking down your back as you sat back and looked at William's human face staring at you. His lips curled up in a smile and creased the corners of his eyes as you felt him doing a little jump in one spot, making you smile back at him.

"You don't mind...that I'm a monster?" He asked, thinking back to the terrified expression you'd had seeing his most monstrous state.

"William, if I minded, I wouldn't have kissed you when your face was furry."

"Yes, I know but still."

"Shut up and kiss me again, incubnny."

"Oh, gladly, little bunny." He cupped your cheek with one hand as he leaned in and kissed your lips again. A soft, chaste thing that still stole your breath away as he pulled you against his broad body, perched on the hood of his car as he tenderly stroked your hair. Both of you wishing the moment would never end, even though you knew that you couldn't leave William in his shredded clothes.

"Maybe we should get you home, you're kinda half-naked in the parking lot." William chuckled at your words and raised his greying eyebrow and smiling wickedly, rolling his eyes playfully.

"And here I thought that was extra romantic."

"Oh totally, in a very different context."

"Oh?"

"Stop smirking at me! You'll find out eventually, you still owe me a proper date first."

"Can I at least give you another kiss for now?" Waiting for you to confirm with a nod.

And he did, pressing his lips to yours once again and cupping both of your cheeks as you felt your cheeks flushing. Holding onto his tie still as you remained in the half-dark. Knowing that there was a lot of things the two of you would have to work out, but you were looking forwards to each and every step.

[queenshelby]

An Illicit Affair

Part 44: Max's Interview

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (47) x Reader (24)

Warning: Age-Gap, Taboo Relationship, Infidelity

Soon after the article surfaced, there was also an interview with Max following his father's win, airing on national television. His interviewer asked him the awkward questions about his father and Max appeared keen to finally speak out about how hurt he had been when he found out about your relationship. 

"What are your thoughts about your father's new relationship, with your ex-girlfriend, out of all people?" he had asked after discussing Cillian's Oscar win.

Max had taken a deep breath before answering, his voice calm but filled with underlying anger. "Honestly, I am appalled, disheartened, and feel incredibly betrayed by my father's actions and by the actions of my ex as well," he said, his eyes cold and stern. "I mean, honestly, wouldn't you be disgusted knowing that your girlfriend has some sort of relationship with your father? Like a sexual one? It's f*** gross, isn't it?" Max continued his rant, seemingly gaining confidence as he went on. 

"Were you together for long before she got involved with your father?" the interviewer persisted, pressing Max for an answer.

"Well, I guess you could say that we have been pretty seriously involved with each other before she met my father, but I am wondering whether this was all an act. Maybe this was all her trying to somehow get to know him. To get to know someone famous, you know?" Max asked, with growing anger in his voice. "Honestly, it's sick and I don't want to be associated with this whole mess. I don't even know how to face my friends anymore."

"So you think she might be a gold digger so to speak?" the interviewer asked, leading Max further into his conjectures about you.

Max inhaled deeply and leaned back into the chair.

"Yeah, I would say she is and I was blindsided by her actions, you know. When I think about it now, there were signs that something was off between them, like really early into our relationship, after I introduced her to my parents. I just didn't want to see it, maybe it was her way to get herself a famous guy with money,"  Max added, feeling bile rise up his throat.

The interviewer, clearly eager to fan the flames of this scandal, leaned in and asked, "And what about your father, Max? You said that you were surprised when you found out." 

Max let out a bitter laugh. "What can I say? Of course I was surprised because this is not like him, you know. He is not really a ladies man but I think that, with her, he just hit a midlife crisis or something,"  Max replied, his voice sharp and bitter.

"So you think this won't last? Between them?" the interviewer  persisted, pressing Max further.

Max cast his gaze downward momentarily before lifting up his head, eyeing the interviewer soberly. "I don't think this whole relationship between them will last. She is like half his age and very immature," he asserted confidently with a shaky voice. "That is unless she pins a f*** kid on him or something," Max continued, necessarily necessarily parting his lips to maintain airflow while engineering such offensive comments.

When you and Cillian watched this interview at home, Max's words left you feeling like you had been punched in the gut, a wave of guilt and regret crashing over you as Max's harsh words played over and over in your mind. You knew that things were bound to get complicated once the world found out about your secret relationship with Cillian. However, you had never imagined that it would hurt Max this much.

Looking over to Cillian, who was sitting next to you,  your heart ached for the conflicted emotions in his eyes. It was clear that Max's words had cut him deeply, too. He was lost for words and turned pale , swallowing hard as his thoughts ran wild.

You reached out and took his hand, wrapping your fingers around his tightly, offering silent support as his emotions got the better of him.

"You know that this isn't true , right?" you whispered softly, watching as his eyes flickered over to meet yours. Your eyes were tearing up by this point and you  blinked fast in an attempt to keep the tears at bay.

"I never did any of this on purpose. I didn't get involved with Max so I could meet you and I certainly didn't, oh my god...," you broke down  , tears spilling over your lashes and trailing down your cheeks, unable to mask the turmoil building inside of you. 

"Y/N, shh, it's alright. I know it's not true,"  Cillian whispered, pulling you towards him gently, cradling you in his arms. He rubbed circles on your back, trying to soothe you as your sobs wracked your body.

"I didn't want any of this to happen, Cillian. I didn't want to hurt Max or anyone else. I just...I fell in love with you and I couldn't help it," you said, sniffling between each word as you tried to regain control of your emotions.

Cillian sighed deeply, his own emotions swirling within him as he listened to you.

"I know, love. I fell in love with you, too." His voice was soothing as he smoothed a hand down your hair. 

"I would hate for people to think otherwise, Cillian and now, with the baby , it will only make things worse," you hiccuped, looking up at him, your eyes red and swollen, but still filled with love.

"Let people think what they want Y/N," Cillian paused, his voice emotional, but firm. "I don't care anymore. I have you in my life, we are going to have a family together, and nothing those tabloids can say about us can change that fact. I will love you both no matter what they say. Max will come around eventually, and when he does, things will be smooth sailing. I promise," he echoed comfortingly.

You nodded weakly, relieved that he was echoing your thoughts.

Cillian then shifted his weight to look into your eyes and you leaned up to kiss him, feeling a surge of love for him. 

"You know the pregnancy wasn't planned, right? I never planned for this to happen," you  murmured somberly, your heart heavy with guilt.

Cillian's expression softened, a weary sadness reflecting in his eyes.

"I know Y/N. I know," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he pulled you closer to him.

You both sat there for a long moment, wrapped up in each other's embrace, neither knowing what to say or how to make it right. 

"Your father is so going to kill me though when he finds out," Cillian said with a humorless chuckle as he leaned back to look at you. "We got to tell your parents you know, and Max as well unfortunately," Cillian took a deep breath, as if trying to steel himself for the inevitable confrontation. 

Cillian's closest family members already knew, Lucy knew too, and so did Cillian's assistant. 

But that was about it. There was a small circle of people who knew about the pregnancy, but the rest of the world was still in the dark.

Cillian was right about one thing, it was time to tell your parents, it was time to tell Max, even though you weren't looking forward to either of those conversations.

You couldn't help but wince at the thought, knowing that your parents, and Max, were going to react poorly to the news.

"Yeah," you murmured softly, swallowing hard as you let the magnitude of everything really sink in. You couldn't help but feel a twinge of fear and regret knowing that this could ruin everything.

"We will tell my parents next weekend, when we drive up to visit them. I know you didn't really want to come with me, but I think you should, considering the circumstances," you said, looking up at Cillian, whose eyes were filled with concern.

"Alright, I'll come but fuck, your father is going to be pissed," Cillian sighed heavily, leaning back against the sofa, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand.

"Tell me about it," you agreed, a strained smile playing on your lips before thinking about how to tell him and how to tell Max as well. 

Tags:

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@nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

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[rollinouttahere-writes]

Listen in my defence Garp is a Dilf or a Gilf depending on the time line XD 

Maybe Garp (or Sanji if writing Garp makes you uncomfortable) S , K , I , W , H

Congratulations! You got six letters because I accidentally did V instead of W at first!

Also I will write for any character from One Piece (barring child characters given that this alphabet is inherently more mature) so long as I've gotten to them in the show, so you don't have to worry about me not wanting to write for a certain character. Like I would write for Blackbeard if someone requested him.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Given Garp's insane strength, it would be very easy for him to hurt you even just accidentally. He never sets out to hurt you. With his power and his connections, there's no real need for violence. However, if you catch him in a bad mood and really push your luck, he might grab you too tight and effortlessly break your arm. He realizes what he's done the second he hears the snap and immediately regrets it. You'll be hauled off to see a doctor immediately and he spends the next month spoiling you in an attempt to make you forget about what happened. All that being said, upsetting him to this point is borderline impossible, so this is very unlikely to happen.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

All that he wants is someone to have by his side for the rest of his life. Ideally, someone that isn't going to raise his blood pressure like the rest of his family does. He just wants to be able to relax and have fun with his darling in his down time. You guys are going to get married, but it'll likely be no more than a marriage certificate unless you really push for a wedding. He's too old and set in his ways to care that much about ceremonies and "superficial shit", as he puts it.

Don't worry about children. This man has adult grandchildren. He's good. He really does not want to be starting over with a baby at his age. Not to mention the fact that everyone in his family is a damn criminal. He does not want to see another descendant on a wanted poster before his deathbed, thank you very much.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Presuming that you two have a significant age gap, Garp is usually mistaken for being your father. He isn't a particularly romantic man (no one in this family is), so very little about his behavior would make people think that you're a couple. In public, he'll be walking beside you, but usually isn't touching you beyond brief touches to get your attention. He's talking loudly (usually lightheartedly complaining about his family) and making dumb jokes.

In private, he's a bit more affectionate, but most of the time it's in an annoying way. He's like a young boy that thinks the only way to get his crush's attention is by being a nuisance. Except you're married and he's in his seventies. He'll be pranking you and going out of his way to do things that'll get a rise out of you. He can be normally affectionate with quick kisses on the cheek before he leaves the home, or by picking you up in a hug and spinning you around.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Desperation for a normal family member combined with his devil-may-care attitude. If he finds someone that he likes well enough to pursue a relationship with, why shouldn't he go after them just as strongly as he would a pirate? What's so wrong about him wanting to have some company on lonely nights? He's a marine. He's a good man. You'll come around and learn to appreciate this arrangement.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

You have three options with Garp:

1: If he isn't bringing you with him on his ship while he's working, you have all of that time to make a break for it. It might be tricky giving the marine base he keeps you at the slip, but it's much easier than trying to run away from him directly. These escapes will be short lived. Maybe a week into your freedom, Garp will rock up wearing a hawaiian shirt and carrying a suitcase while asking why you went on vacation without him.

2: You have three step-grandchildren that would be eager to get involved. You don't even need to convince them that you're here against your will. All you have to do is ask if they want to piss off their grandfather and they'll be on their way to wherever you are to begin the game of darling-keep-away.

3: Assuming there's a big age gap here... you could also just wait him out. Sure, it'll probably take a couple of decades for him to finally kick the bucket. He isn't the type of yandere to kill his darling so he can "take them with him", so you'll still have the rest of your life left. It'll be easy to afford a therapist for everything you went through after you cash in on your late husband's pension and life insurance policy, so at least you have that to look forward to.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

As discussed in H, yes, but it's accidental. He genuinely has no desire to harm his darling. His attitude is too carefree and lax with you to become violent without several other extreme factors being at play.

[narutouzumakiarchive]

Mr. Naruto "I would do for Sasuke what I would do for my everybody" Uzumaki never denounced his ability to be Hokage when he wasn't able to save his friends (before he realized during the war arc that physical death doesn't prevent your comrades from being alive in your heart) unless that friend was Sasuke.

I mean Naruto was pretty adamant that someone who can't become save a friend isn't worthy of a position as distinguished as Hokage. Yet not once does Naruto call into question his ability to become Hokage when Gaara, with whom he feels a special kinship with as a fellow jinchuriki dies in the arc before. I mean he even notes the similarities between the current situation and his failures with Sasuke in Part 1 and grieves... but there's no "How can I become Hokage?" spiel.

When he loses Jiraiya and Kakashi, in particular, we witness his distress in the immediate aftermath of their deaths... but again, he doesn't feel he can't become Hokage after losing them. On the contrary, he feels affirmed in his decision to be Hokage and honor the hopes and dreams of the precious people he lost.

And for context, the word that Naruto uses, nakama (仲間), folds in more than just peers near your age. He has used it to include Gaara, Jiraiya, and Kakashi.

So this sets up an interesting situation where there's a gap in what Naruto states ("I can't become Hokage if I can't save a nakama") and his behavior in which the reader is able to see that there are nakama who Naruto doesn't tie his ability to become Hokage to.

Naruto's desire to become Hokage is tied to his sense of self. Who is Naruto? Someone who at one point stated he refused to die until he became the Hokage. To the average viewer, there is no Naruto without his character defining dream to become the Hokage.

So this gap in the narrative, between nakama who are inextricably linked with Naruto's self conception and nakama who aren't, creates a subtext that implies clearly some nakama are more special than others and it leads to a quandary for Naruto that is problematized in the narrative — what does friendship mean (and specifically in relation to Sasuke)?

And this is a quandary that was very much intentional. Aside from Kishimoto outright using Gaara as a mouthpiece to explicitly state the issue, he also invited the reader to question the delimitations of Naruto and Sasuke's bond. He went out of his way to create a messy dynamic that was questioned by everyone from Sai to Itachi which is a big no if your narrative goal is to portray normal friendship devotion.

Now, Naruto is a bildungsroman (even outright representing Shonen on the list of examples on Wikipedia). Quoting from the page, a bildungsroman is a coming-of -age story that "that focuses on the psychological and moral growth of the protagonist from childhood to adulthood." And one of the ways this growth happens is through forcing the protagonists to face quandaries in which they must reflect upon and learn from.

The "what does friend mean to you" is one of many other predicaments that Naruto had to reflect upon in the text. Some other questions Naruto is forced to meaningfully think about are "What does it take to understand someone?" and "What does it take to facilitate peace in the shinobi world?". That's not to say that Naruto understands everything (see his conversation with his dad or his conversation with the Sage) BUT the key thing to note is that he does develop his opinions on these issues and demonstrate more understanding in how they should be handled.

Which is why it's so funny that the hero becomes more certain in what it takes to end something as grand as the shinobi conflict but NOT the meaning of friendship with regard to his dynamic with Sasuke. It's 698, hundreds of chapters after Gaara officially threw one of those typical coming-of-age quandaries Naruto's way, and yet he makes his answer as vague or possible. Or rather, I should say Kishimoto made Naruto's answer as vague as possible.

Word choice and sentence construction matter. Instead of having Naruto answer Sasuke's question by drawing a clear cut and direct link between the meaning of friendship and his feelings of pain for Sasuke (i.e. "It means that I feel pain when you are burdened), Kishimoto utilizes relational uncertainty and has Naruto question why he is pained. Compare his lack of certainty in identifying the reasoning for his intense feelings of empathy for Sasuke with his absolute certainty in answering another of the quandaries in present in the manga: "What does it mean to be a Hokage?"

He displays absolute confidence in defining the superior-subordinate relationship a Hokage has with the people they lead and he even defines in within the context of pain — "A Hokage is someone who walks ahead of everyone and swallow their pain." The "everyone" Naruto refers to certainly encompasses the relationships he has with his other nakama in Konoha so he could have easily used that as a basis for establishing the reason why he felt pain for Sasuke, and yet, there's an added element of uncertainty in his understanding of his interpersonal dynamic with Sasuke which lends itself to ambiguity regarding the nature of his feelings for Sasuke.

And ambiguity is a cornerstone of subtext, which in this context, absolutely reads as romantic within the narrative. Not just because the reader's attention is repeatedly drawn to the bizarre nature of Naruto's feelings towards Sasuke in the text but also because it accords with common sociogenic principles of romance being linked with increased uncertainty and ambiguity in intimate friendships.

And that uncertainty is a common theme in Naruto and Sasuke's dynamic, though Sasuke will be getting his own post.