#and yeah that's a real dagger he's got

[malachixliddell]

MALACHI LIDDELL needs no crown, no diamonds, no glitz. The way to a throne leaves a trail of blood behind, and doesn’t he enjoy the journey. The story of Romulus has him raised by a wolf, killing his own mirror-image of a twin, becoming ruler and founder of Rome, and then swept up by a storm only to become a God. Malachi may not explicitly say what he’s come as to most, but there’s no need to question a man who brings a real wolf to enter his own party.

[screampied]

‘ ONE OF HIS GIRLSSSS ! ,

ᡴꪫ‎ sum. toji ends up finding out maybe his best friend's daughter isn’t so innocent after all once he walks in on you and your precious 12k viewers. he grows amused by your little side hustle as a cam girl. but actually, maybe having him as a special guest wasn’t so bad. (girl it was)

wc. 6k

warnings. fem! reader, vōyerism, dad's best friend! toji, age gap (reader is over twenty), unprotected, praise, dirty talk, squírting, cunnílingus, slight dumbification, impact play, size kink, spit.

dbf! toji masterlist

“guys, i’m serious,” you’d utter, your monitor staring right back at you — a full live audience of over twelve thousand eyes listening to you speak. you were cooped up in your room, slouching on your chair with your legs pressed together. “he’s totally real. we even almost got caught one time.”

you were referring to your dad’s best friend, toji…

just muttering his name aloud made you feel all sorts of tingles. oh, to think how that 'one time' was just about three days ago. you still remember everything like it just happened, the intoxicating taste of toji’s lips, his unforgettable loud cologne scent, how fucking mean he was, you missed him, who were you even kidding. last time you checked, him and your father went out somewhere. you didn’t bother to care where, probably fishing or something.

skimming through the plethora of donations with filthy questions, thirsty provocative questions that desperately craved your attention, you read one, “how is he in bed, oh—well,” and you squeeze your thighs before re-adjusting your screen. “he’s okay. i had to fake my orgasms a few times though, figures ‘cause he’s kinda old.”

“oh yeah?”

as if on cue, there toji stood—right outside your doorway, hands buried in his deep roots of pockets and that same unreadable expression. he’s sending you straight daggers, you crane your neck to glance at him before you panic, “uh, i’ll talk to you guys later.”

“nah keep that shit on, girl,” he shakes his head, trodding his bare feet towards you. you mentally face palm. you could have sworn he was out somewhere with your father. “just when i thought ya couldn’t get even freakier,” he mutters, and he’s now behind you—green irises peering at your monitor. the chat suddenly spams with some of your audience lusting over toji, wondering if he’s a special guest. “heyyy,” he says to the screen, his voice was a pitchy low and then you gasp once he throws an arm around you. “is he a special guest?” and then he turns to you with a sly grin. “i don’t know, princess . . am i?”

“. . . i mean i guess,” you speak, not even realizing how your tone softens a bit. this always happened, whenever you were just a few feet away from toji, you’d feel so tense. it’s officially been a week since the two of you were screwing around—you hadn’t gotten caught, at least you think you haven’t gotten caught. the thrill of it all though, it was enticing. he eyes your little set up and he’s amused more than anything. “this is the guy i was telling you guys about,” you avert your dilated pupils back towards the bright screen. “this is . . . toji.”

“heh yo,” he scoffs at the screen with a greet, seeing how your confidence fades the moment he’s in the room with you. toji leans beside you, eyeing the lewd comments before one catches his eye. “tell him to turn around. what for?”

you sheepishly grin at the webcam, knowing some of your aroused fans wanted to take a quick peek at toji’s ass. to be fair, you couldn’t exactly blame them. you stare a bit yourself, and it was definitely. . . something.

three new tips from mod gojoclitoru: girl bye he looks like he doesn’t shower

wormfucker69: he looks like the guy who works @ my cleaners lol

shokostrapdestroyer: Where’s Shoko ?????

kanyeastinfection: Soooo hawt ;)

iloveosamudazai: i miss nanamin

“how come y’er all shy? i heard what you’ve been saying ‘bout me, y’know,” toji mumbles. he stands tall, cracking his neck towards the left. his entire frame, he was always so handsome. you take a moment to glance up at him, his perfectly chiseled physique. he looked like he was about to head to the gym, he had on a simple wife beater with dingy grey sweats. his gaze he had towards you was purely tantalizing. “. . ah,” he inches closer towards you, bending down as you sat on the office chair, getting right up close to your face. “why don’t you repeat that last bit for me. you fake your orgasms with this old man?”

“i didn’t ….” you trail off, trying to come up with some excuse. suddenly, it felt hot. you felt hot.

your heart starts to race the more he stared you down. the chat was going at a much more rapid speed, it’s like your viewer count doubled the moment toji entered. then you thought—maybe this would do you some good, having him as a special guest didn’t seem so bad.

he lightly grabs your chin, making you peer straight into his eyes. “i stay away from you for three days ‘n it seems like you forgot how to act.”

toji did have a point precisely, for the last three days you basically had the entire house to yourself. him and your father went out to some business trip, you missed him though.

of course, if you tagged along you’d be sure you’d both get caught so you just offered to watch over the house. it was as if the more time you spent with toji, the more you started to feel something.

you didn’t know what it was, it was hard to put into detail, put into pure words—but you knew for certain, you didn’t wanna stop seeing him. it was spring break after all…

“i meant what i said,” you mutter.

while returning his gaze, toji’s eyes widen for a bit, off guard by your sudden switch of attitude. you had a bit of a plan, you decided if you played along, your sweet thousands of fans would eat it up. and they were, the repetitive high-pitch sounds of constant donations rang through your ears before you continue to speak. “i faked everything, toji.”

his eyes linger into you for a long time before he drags a thumb down your lip. “well shit. that so?” and his voice—it pitches a dangerous tune. you already start to feel your thighs squeeze together more tightly. “mhm,” he grunts, watching you nod your head in response. he scoffs to himself before grumbling. “maybe i should make it more real for you then.”

with such simple words, trust and believe he does.

toji’s way of making it more real was to simply have you ride his face, all in front of your audience too.

for some reason, you felt burning up coming to the sheer realization that literally all eyes were simply on you. a quick glance at your blue light monitor and the viewer count displayed a hefty whopping amount of 12,295. all you could think about it was the hefty bank you were about to make.

your legs quaver as toji’s laid flat on your old bed, having you take your seat right on his face — his breath is hot as he runs his tongue alongside your inner thighs before giving you a stare. “eyes down here, not them,” he snarls, and you moan once he spanks your pre-soaked clit, your panties still attached. “they aren’t about to fuckin’ eat you out, are they?”

“n—no,” you murmur out, looking down back at him and he slowly runs a fat thumb down your slit.

oh, you were soaked alright.

a cute little damp spot between the middle part of your underwear makes an appearance and he slides his tongue all against it. he’s so slow with it all, making sure to take his time to make you pout out for him. “toji,” you mumble, feeling your tummy sink in before you huff out a single breath. he’s still so attractive, even underneath you—a little yet nice amount of facial hair scatters near certain parts of his face. scattered specks of brief darkened hair near his sharp jaw paint his face like an empty canvas. you run a finger against his chin and he shoots you a sleazy grin. “hurry up, toji.”

dark eyes flicker back towards you before he gifts your sopping pussy a mean spank. “hurry up toji,” he mocks your tone. you melodically whimper, watching as he licks a single stripe between your covered slit. “shut the fuck up. ‘m gonna take my time with you since apparently you ‘fake’ everything.”

you couldn’t help but merely slip out a giggle, your comment really offended him in some way. obviously, you were joking though—you and toji both knew he knew how to snatch multiple orgasms out of you at once. he was quite a skilled man without question, with his tongue—his dick, literally anything.

although, you snap out of your salacious thoughts the moment you feel him latch his tongue against your folds. it took you a minute to realize your panties were already off, he practically ripped them off and he was already digging in. you whimper, hovering your weight over his face before staring at the lit up monitor.

BIGDICKKUNA: Even my domain has better camera quality than this

gojoclitoru: here sukuna go…

FOXYKITTEN2940: clean up aisle my pants >.<

you’re starting to grind against his face, a hand combing through his hair before your bite your lip. toji stares at you, dragging a thumb down your puffy slit before leaning back to spit on it. he was always such a sloppy man—no shame in the world. you’d feel yourself pulsate whenever he did that, departing his lips away from your cunt before collecting a good wad of saliva to coat your folds with such a sheeny translucent color.

squelch after squelch, undeniably you were sopping. his nose briefly prods against your nub and you whine once he finally starts to actually eat you out.

“f-fuckkk.” you’d breathe, intaking a sharp breath. sudden dizziness overtook you—a thrum escapes from your sheeny lips as you rock your hips forward. it was hypnotic, the way you move against his mouth. toji looked so pretty underneath you too. his eyes, so hooded and half lidded—such a hungry gaze, a starved animal. he starts tantalizingly slow at first, making sure to lay the flat of his tongue against your entrance before simply digging in.

side—to—side, his head continues to swiftly shift and move as he’s devouring his meal, a thumb continues to strum against your slick arousal before he starts to suck, suck, suck.

candy, a perfect way to describe your taste in toji’s humblest opinion. he could never get enough, a few long strands of his hair tickles against your thighs as he resumes his sloppy eating. “mhm. pull on it.” he says between hot breaths, and you feel a sudden fire ignite inside of you. you knew immediately he was referring to his hair. such ruffled, messy strands desperately awaiting to be tugged by your fingers.

so you do—you take a good grab, lightly yanking him forward and he grunts.

“. . harder,” he rasps, and he’s already starting to look blissed out. eyes all glazed over, you wriggle over his face before you feel a sudden shiver overtake you. you pull harder and his face goes right against your cunt. you sloppily swipe against his nose like a credit card and he smirks at you. “that’s what ‘m talking about. ride my face, girl.”

his words, his filthy vulgarly words guide you through it all.

each pulse makes you twitch even more—each breath that runs out your mouth feels like it’s going to be your last, especially with a tongue like toji’s. he makes sure not to miss a drop, slurping quite everything out of you. he was a man—not necessarily a clean one, but he was never scared of a little mess. you start to coat the bottom part of his chin with your slit, it’s glistening so much.

after a while, toji’s already drunk off of your sweetened taste. every few flicks of his tongue against your nub makes cute whimpers coo out your throat and you only tighten the grip against his hair.

“r-right there, ‘s good when you suck there, toji.”

“cause i know what the fuck ‘m doing.” he grumbles back, bringing his same thumb to slide down your slit. he repeats it again and again. smearing your own mess right back on you, only to clean it up. he was a messy man, and with a tasty pussy that you had—you only made him ten times messier.

he was never one to complain though, toji’s the type to never say thank you—he shows you how grateful he is, it involves with being between your legs.

toji fushiguro…

a sleazy man without a single care in the word, maybe messing around his with best friend’s daughter slash colleague was a bit taboo. but did he care—no, was he gonna stop doing it—no, was he perhaps catching feelings for you the more time he spends with you? were you catching feelings?

. . .

unanswered questions, even if you asked yourself that question, you honestly couldn’t even know how to reply. the two of you never really labeled anything, so this was just a simple spring break fling right?

once courses resume and you go back to your well prestige university your father got you into due to connections, that’d probably be the last you’d see of him. toji fushiguro, the man you’ve been screwing around with for the past almost two weeks. it’s almost safe to say that you started to get attached to his presence—sometimes it’s like the two of you didn’t even care if you got caught. there was literally a time where toji fingered you under the table during dinner.

that was . . embarrassing.

the way you were trying to withhold a conversation with your father—he’s just rambling you about what a boring day he had at the office and you’re over here gushing on his best friend’s fingers. you find yourself thinking about that specific moment all too well—as well as the various other ones, him fucking you on the hood of his car, in the living room, and even the bathroom—which your panties ended up getting found.

oops.

“told you to keep those fuckin’ eyes on me,” he hoarsely rasps—snapping you out of your lewd reminiscing fantasm. his tongue, it’s swirling all against your clit as you focus your attention back towards him. with two big hands, he holds your jerky hips steady—feeling you rut against his mouth before he feels you pulse right in his mouth. “yeah.” he mutters, bringing two digits to prod towards your slick entrance. you whine, feeling him slowly insert them with ease—so wet, he was almost in awe at how you were dripping like a faucet. not even a faucet could compare nor describe how sodden your sweet cunt was. each lap he makes with his tongue gets more filthy, it turns into sucking before you’re practically spasming all over again.

you moan, hands still tight and rigidly tangled within his strands before you take a quick peek at your laptop. so many eyes were on you—so many more eyes now, the count was steadily doubling, the donations you were receiving made your mouth nearly water. tip after tip, your pupils turned into green dollar signs. this was probably the most viewers you had in the entirety of your little cam girl side hustle.

all thanks to toji.

you’re getting close, it’s inevitable—especially with the way your hips continue to rock back and forth. a cute rhythm he got accustomed to, toji brings two rough hands towards the fat mounds of your ass before squeezing it. he was always a handsy man, feeling all over your body. green pools of eyes stare right at you as you’re intaking each staggering breath that escapes your spit-glossed lips. “c-close, toji,” you’d babble out, your knees almost buckle—a sudden twinge pouring into your lower abdomen before you mewl. “gonna—cum, gonna—”

“baby hold it,” he says sternly, the base in his voice never failing to make you wet. he breaks his lips away for a moment before he glances at the screen—an upside down position. “hm. chat, should the pretty girl finish early?”

your heart drops—you knew how many trolls you had in your audience, and before you could cutely tell him to just let you climax, he hums in amusement at the incoming flood of comments.

chososbootylicker29: Petition to have Toji oiled and cheeked up

zorosballswallower: NOOOOO

anonymoususer: dad?

gojoclitoru: lol no.

and with many others the comments continue to flood.

majority of the answers being no—you hated being edged, loathed it. especially with toji because he was so damn mean. he snickers, reading the responses upside down before you feel the two tips of his fingers shove way deep inside you. your back arches and you whine ore he holds your hips in place with a single hand. “looks like y’er little fans want you to wait pretty girl,” and you look down at him with a cute glare—his lips depart and his entire mouth from the very bottom of his chin was damp. even still, he looked so attractive. “cute. a glare ain’t gonna change nothing though,” and a pout shortly stretched against your lips as he runs his tongue near your frantic pulsing clit. he brings a spank to it and it makes you whine. “be a good girl ‘n wait a little longer.”

“i can’t,” you frown out, and that only earns another sharp spank towards your folds.

“yes you fuckin’ can,” and you start to whine once he stops eating you out. it felt so warm, all of a sudden the cold air wafts against your skin and you shudder. toji loves more than anything to spank your pussy whilst staring right into your eyes. “if i tell my girl to wait, she’s gonna wait.”

my girl…

for some reason, that made your pulsing ten times worse, a plethora of butterflies arise inside your stomach and you’re still just hovering over his face.

he palpates his fingers—not his tongue to rummage all inside your cunt, you frown cutely. you wanted his tongue, not his stubby thick fingers. although, the thing you wanted most was to finish. as you grind against his face, you feel his infamous scar run against your pussy and it tickles. it tickles in such a way that it drags out a sweet crying moan from you.

“t—toji,” you start to grow impatient. he’s just teasing you, blowing against your folds with warm breath, swiping his nose alongside your sopping entrance, anything but tasting you again. he likes seeing you like this, on the brink of tears because you got denied a climax. it started to come closer and closer until once it was finally there—you puff up your cheeks for a split second before moaning. “g-god, i can’t hold it. ‘m gonna cummm.”

“wait,” he utters in a husky rasp, watching as you quaveringly hover over his face—chin just soaked with your arousal, he licks the bottom of his lip before tittering at you. “you finish when i’m ready.”

“f-fuck you,” you whimper, and you end up cumming anyway—he’s taken aback but it only arouses him even more. the brat, oh the brat that you were. one of the many things he liked about you, you were submissive but not entirely—you had a backbone, you talked back to him, you even had the nerve to roll those pretty eyes at him.

it hits you like a semi-truck.

illegal full speed, the brakes were had to step on and you feel it just strike right into you at full force. your orgasm, you scoot your hips forward against his mouth and now he’s the one glaring at you. toji laps up all of you, two fingers spreading your clit apart before he spits on it again. “you just don’t listen, huh,” and his voice was even lower than it was before—a rich baritone lingering underneath it. you’re riding out your climax when he lightly shoves you on the bed.

in your mind, you’re thinking . .

finally, the good part.

toji grimaces at the cute smile that goes against your lips. you’re eager just as him— not to mention, it’s been three days since he’s touched you. “don’t get too excited, brat,” he grumbles with a scowl tugging the corners of his mouth. he plops onto the bed before staring down at you. “bend the fuck over for me. fake orgasm my ass.”

so blunt, you immensely comply—so impatient for him to just be inside of you.

the piles of donations triple by this point, and you try to take a peep at your screen before he spanks your ass. “ass up, face down little girl. don’t got all day.”

“sorryyy,” you giggle with a mere eye roll.

testing toji’s patience was always so fun for you. for whatever reason, getting on his nerves really turned you on. once you finally bend over for him, two hands grab the fats of your ass and you bite your lip once he prepares to align himself. you’re facing your bright lit screen.

the comments talking more about toji than you and you pout . . . figures though. he’s hot, no wonder all the attention would be on him instead of you.

with his right hand, he wraps it around his thick length before rubbing his tip against your pre-drenched entrance. he grunts, witnessing how your pussy tries to swallow him so easily…

you’re puckering, awaiting for him to stuff you full as you’re slump right into the mattress. “but sweetheart, y’er not sorry,” he grunts, smacking his fat tip against your slick folds. a soft mewl runs out the back of your throat before you arch just a bit more. with another spank, he snarls in a huff, “not gonna fuck ya that easy. y’er gonna have to use those manners if you wanna get what you want.”

“huh?”

“huh?” he mocks, kissing your ass with another spank from his palm. “you can’t hear? speak, girl. talk ‘ta me nice.”

glossy eyes of yours avert towards your screen, everyone’s lusting over toji and it only fuels his ego even more—you easily felt yourself throb, a pout never leaving your lips before you inhale.

“please . . ” you start, feeling him softly drag a hand against your curves, your physique. his touch always had you weak, taking in every part of your frame. all his . . just for these few weeks.

“please what?”

“please f—fuck me,” you grumble, and you’re growing more and more irritated—he hums to himself, amused. each second you spend speaking, each second he could be inside of you. you and him both knew that.

toji rubs his leaky tip with a bit more pressure against your pussy, just a a little more and he’d be inside. you started to feel your mouth salivate before you start to whine. “hm,” he ponders to himself, green eyes occasionally staring at the laptop that had about hundreds of comments spamming per second. “fine. i feel like bein’ nice to you today, especially since i haven’t seen my girl in a hot minute,” and again, he refers to you as his girl. it sends an unfamiliar feeling of butterflies brewing up in your stomach before he spanks you for probably the umpteenth time now. “now, arch a liiiitle more ‘n stare at your fans for me, yeah.”

you’re propped on the mattress with your ass all up in the air. from your screen as you stare at it, you spot toji’s mirroring reflection. that sly smile that slowly and gradually forms against his lips.

“lie the fuck down.” he mutters, feeling you try to sit up. you do, intaking a single breath before you feel him huff out a low puff. toji’s eyes stare right at your ass, he takes every moment in. the way you suck him in, it’s just filthy. the saturated squelches that shortly follow afterward—so filthy.

a six letter word to perfectly describe this entire situation.

arched over for your dad’s best friend, who would have thought—not you, not in a million years.

“ . . . shit,” he pants, and you’re so wet. you moan, pawing at the fat silk sheets in front of you. so many flooded comments of your audience merely thirsting over toji, wishing desperately that they were in your position. ( . . quite literally . . )

and toji’s just so fucking big.

he’s got a lofty height of inches under his belt.

metaphorically speaking—just a single sharp thrust and you’re speechless.

the wind gets snatched out of your lungs and it’s so vigorous that your head’s spinning. this entire angle, he’s got you right where he wants you—on all fours with your ass perked up. toji can’t keep his hands to himself anyway, his hands roam all over your waist before holding both hips in place. clammy hands just about stick to your skin before he starts to create a decent pace.

a slow pace — a slow pace that turns more mean.

languidly, you feel yourself leaning to his touch as he runs a hand down your spine.

toji brings one leg up to deepen the position and not even moments later, your lips part.

“t—toji . . ah ah,” and you don’t even recognize yourself. he repositions himself for a split second, making haste with his hips before sliding his feet right past your knees. with this, it’s more stimulation and you feel it all. just the right amount of pressure, his balls sharply thwack against your ass and it makes your mind cloud up with fuzz.

“. . damn,” he groans, a hand grabbing towards the back of your university hoodie. as he leans forward, dark viridescent colored pupils stare at your rear. the way it jerks and recoils against him, everytime . . it’s the best part. even more when he spanks it, deepening his hips against your cunt to earn out a cute whine or two from you. for what seemed like the millionth time, toji kisses the right cheek of your ass with various spanks. the sting has you gnawing on your lip like it’s candy, curling your toes up with a few droplets of sweat coating the bridge of your nose. “missed this pussy, three days too fuckin’ long, brat.”

“i missed you t—.”

“girl hello? i wasn’t talking to you.”

you frown, and it follows from a snicker from him.

“. . . so dramatic,” he’d eye roll once he hears you blow out a cute sigh. “fine, i did miss you,” and that was only a half lie. you knew in actuality, he missed what’s between your legs. toji still remained sassy as usual, it never left and it’d always stay. he’s buried all into you, deep to the hilt that each time his angry reddened tip drives against that spot, you squeal out in sweet pleasure.

it didn’t take him long to locate it, your g-spot. after a while you start to feel your pussy open, spreading wide—gaping. he was so ridiculously big, it’s leaving such question marks floating over your forehead because how can someone be this thick.

with a gruff—toji groans, veins bulging through his veins as he yanks your hoodie forward into him. he’s lenient, at least for a good while. letting you have your fun, get drunk off his cock before he edges you a more . . . oh just maybe.

gojoclitoru: does anyone want the link to my only fans :(

willbang4curses: Idk who I wanna be more…

iamnotsugurugetoseriouslyiamnothim: i want your only fans @/gojoclitoru

hotpeach03: Toji please I’m a single mom

your chat continues to spate, it’s so much that as your eyes watch them all flood down the logs, you could barely read the words.

he’s so deep inside, you’re almost drooling.

the stretch—he always leaves you so full, lips all parted and that same gaping mouth opening. pant after pant, you’re heaving heavily with your chest feeling tight and warm. “so deep,” you’d shriek, and he makes your arch lower just a bit further. he’s hitting all the right spots, not missing a single area. his dick retreats as it pulls out, then back again—twitching all inside of your cunt, he lunges forward with his hips before making you plop on your chest. “. . . .ohmygodohmygoddd,” and you were so whiney, you still can’t believe such pathetic noises slither past your damp lips. engulfed with your warm gummy walls squeezing him tight, he spanks you again . . . and again, and again.

“miss me that bad, huh?” he starts to speak. his voice was a pitchy rasp. a gruff base hides underneath it and you can hear the grit lingering like he needs to clear his throat. nevertheless, you throb anyway as he’s jackhammering his cock right into your swollen cunt over, and over, and over. “that why ya keep walkin’ around with these outfits? with no fuckin’ panties underneath, yeah?”

“forgot,” you whimper, shuddering once you feel toji grow playful. he trails his thumb towards your neglected puckering hole, fiddling with it just to get a reaction out of you, and he does. “s-sorry, ‘m sorry.”

“you don’t just forget to put panties on, slut,” he groans, and he feels himself approaching soon. it’s at the tip of his tongue—he feels the burn arise in the lower parts of his thighs, veins contouring to bulge all throughout his body. “wonder what y’er old man would think. ya only pull this shit ‘cause ‘s just you ‘n me here.”

he was right.

then again—if you’d have your father here, you’d never pull a bold stunt like that.

you’d rather drop dead than save yourself the embarrassment. funny though, considering the amount of times you almost got caught.

“so . . ” you mumble, and that’s when he presses his weight right against you this time. ah, prone bone.

you were really in for it now, thickly you swallow before his weight merely hovers over your ass, really deep in you this time.

he vigorously rams his thick cock into your sweltering cunt that’s hugging him oh so tight. he’s such a tease too—using every few chances he gets to poke and gingerly rub a thumb against your pulsating hole.

sweet moans die from your throat as you’re clinging onto the bed���such force that the springs nearly collapse from the whopping amounts of weight creating sheer impact. each thrust, it rings rapidly throughout your ears before toji groans. “f—fuck,” he’d groan, ignoring your little attempts of pure bratiness. you were at your wits end, smothering your glossed lips together before you feel his rounded cockhead mash against your most forbidden spots. spots that was so deep inside the inner areas of your cunt that it makes you mewl out in pure ecstasy. “gonna make me fill you up, princess,” he huffs out, tugging even tighter on the bottom part of your cerulean blue pull over. “s—shit,” and his gruff voice pitches time and time again. for a moment, you think you can hear toji whimper. it was real subtle though, but you heard it. loud and clearly. “gonna take it like you always do?”

“yesyesyes,” you nod—words pouring out of your lips like a waterfall, kneading your fingers into your palms as you bawled up the bedsheets right into your hands. with hooded droopy eyes, you stare at the screen with a dumb expression—he then takes the opportunity to get closer, grabbing you by the hair before holding your head up in front of your thousands of viewers.

“yes what, girl.”

you whine, feeling how perfectly his dick mashed throughout your folds—so easy for him, he was so thick that the stretch was simply immaculate.

“yesss, ‘m gonna take your c-cum, toji,” you’d pant, feeling your own eyes roll backwards—you probably looked a mess in front of your own thirteen thousand viewers, but you could care less. all that your empty brain could fathom was how you were ludicrously stuffed with his hefty cock. he’s drilling into you so good that that it almost feels like a massage. rough fingers run down your spine with one hand, another holding your head by the hair like it’s a prized possession before you whimper. “fuck me, fuck me, fuh—”

toji slaps a hand over your mouth the minute he hears something from downstairs—sure enough, it had to be your father.

shit.

he must have came home early. you remember him mentioning to you he was taking a trip to the corner store after work, probably to get some booze for him and toji to enjoy for some dumb football game.

“honeyyy? you up there?”

you moan, almost feeling your eyelids grow heavy as he’s still holding your head up in front of your laptop—his reflection in the screen just pounding into you at full speed.

already, you’re coating the back of his hand with nothing but your damp saliva—such a dirty girl, preferably his dirty girl.

maybe you were a bit delusional, no. you were very delusional—maybe this could go somewhere? then. again, it was no secret on how toji’s only around to get his dick wet, a reality that you forevermore choose to ignore—until you’d soon find out how that would bite you in the ass later on.

dead silence—you’re just muffling out mewls right into his mouth, and as if on cue, toji ends up finishing inside of you. it’s so much, velvety ropes of hot nut that fill the very insides of your pussy, shooting straight into your womb that your tummy flutters. it’s so much to where it spews out of your hole, he’s gotta poke his thumb in and swipe some out with the way it continues to leak. it’s so dirty, then again—toji fushiguro was a dirty man, the dirtiest.

“are ya gonna reply ‘n let y’er old man know you’re getting off his best friend’s cock or . . ?”

his words, such a tease that he’s still slowly pumping into you. gradually but slow, he plugs into your walls—seeping with cum that oozes out of your folds and you stare at the screen with a cute cock-drunken expression. “mmph,” was your reply, the only reply you could formulate since his big hand almost covered your entire face. so you give him a concise nod, hooded eyes feeling dry from staring at the screen for so many amount of minutes.

eventually, your father leaves and returns back to what he was doing . . . phew.

“that’s right,” he whispers in a low risqué tone, bringing a kiss towards the left part of your neck.

so tender—you’re gathering the strength to sit up but you end up slumping forward. with a pathetic, ‘oof’ you land on your chest, your own climax at the very edge. it’s cute because you end up finishing around the same time—your chest feels heavy, lungs tightly collapsing and all. the perfect way to describe your orgasm was a bomb—a bomb that was ticking and ticking, preparing to detonate before it finally does. instead, the destruction was you squirting, all over toji’s dick that stuffed you full. he’s so close up to your ear, hot breath fanning against your earlobe before he continues to speak. “. . oh, y’er fuckin’ dumb right now, aren’t ya. can barely speak.” and he removes his hand to where a trail of your spit departs. so lewd, you’re spasming from your recent release before with a quick glance—you stare at your monitor. you surpassed your tip goal by a huge milestone, yet like toji said—you were too dumb to even process let alone acknowledge it.

“t—toji,” you whimper, feeling the remnants of his sweet and savory seed pour down the crevices of your thighs. it was sticky, sticking to your skin like glue, sweltering of its entirety.

“come here, princess.”

it surprised you. for once, he was being . . . soft.

you reach backwards, closing your laptop before leaning right into toji. you moan, feeling his beefy ripped arms wrap around you, bringing you right into his embrace. bulky arms go around your waist and he pulls you into a sloppily heated kiss.

simultaneously, your heart skips a few beats—a few, probably an understatement. he tastes sweet, you could make out a brief tang of liquor on his tongue—a taste you didn’t want to ever forget. as your tongue rummages against his, you moan once he gets a bit handsy, a hand going right between your legs to feel the mess he made. the mess you made yourself also.

breathy pants could be heard from your lips as you press your dampish perspiring hands all on his bare chest. he’s wearing a somewhat of a formal shirt — you tug on his collar, yearning for him to come closer, to touch you more, hold you more. something, whatever it was was just brewing up inside of the very depths, the very pits of your stomach.

toji groans, the warmth of his breath wafting against yours before he pulls you away to get a good glimpse of you. a big hand holds your waist, and his eyes peer into you for a long time before as if he hesitates—he kisses the top of your forehead, only to stare away with a scowl.

“. . . toji,” you murmur, and by this point you weren’t speaking with your brain—more so with your heart. it was apparent, especially with the way your droopy hooded eyes suddenly soften the moment you speak out the two syllables in his name.

“let me speak first.” he grouses, a thumb stringing alongside your back, gently strumming against your skin. with the way you gazed at him, making him lie back before aligning yourself, it was clear as day that you wanted more of him. he leans back, long strands of black hair run down his face with his legs sprawled before he prepares to finish.

you straddle him, sitting flat on his lap and he’s so warm—he’s a bit flustered, flaccid from his release and of course a bit sensitive. it’s quite rare to see toji in such a . . . vulnerable state. perhaps you soften him in a few ways or less. at least, that’s what you’d like to think.

it takes him a long time to formulate the words, it’s as if his tongue was tied—weird for him considering it’s toji, he’s always direct and blunt.

and yet for once, you have him speechless.

toji lets off a irritated sigh before while what seems like forever, he mutters out a gruff, “shit. i . . i think ‘m in love with you.”

“ . . . ”

[rafecameroninterlude]

toxic!rafe manhandling toxic!reader when she gets bratty or snappy with him

warnings: dealer!rafe, sorta toxic relationship, cheating accusations, arguing, cussing, yelling, physical violence

[11:15 PM] ‘ray <333’ stopped sharing location with you

“what the fuck?” you sat up, staring at the words on your screen like they weren’t real. you called him not once, not twice, but ten times until you were pacing back and forth, imagining your boyfriend balls deep inside someone else. he said he’d be out dealing with barry on the cut, and that was more than enough reason for you to think of the worst. eventually you calmed down, your head shooting in the direction of the door once you heard it open. “what are you doing up still?” rafe tossed his keys on the dresser, plopping down on the bed with a sigh.

“it’s two in the morning, rafe.” your voice was eerily calm, immediately making his eyebrows knit in confusion. “yeah, and?” he reached for your arm, which you pulled away. “what the fuck is wrong with you?” he got up, dragging you with him. “why did you turn off your location?! you didn’t answer any of my calls.. what do you expect me to think?!” you shouted, pushing him in the chest, which turned out to be useless because he didn’t even budge. “i expect you to understand that if i’m not answering the phone it’s because i’m busy conducting business,” his grip on your wrists made your skin burn, “i didn’t just stop sharing my location, but i turned my phone off altogether because barry gets all fuckin’ paranoid. i wasn’t fucking around if that’s what you think.” you narrowed your eyes at him.

“you’re a liar.” you shoved him again, this time making him stumble. “how many times have i told you that i don’t even want to look at anyone else, let alone fuck them?! while you’re here driving yourself crazy, i’m out there making money for us so i could keep you happy,” he followed you into your shared closet, taking the bag you were stuffing clothes in, “you’re not going anywhere.” you shot daggers at each other, both of you fuming with anger. “i know that look in your eye. don’t do anything stupid, y/n.” you glanced at the keys on the dresser, rafe already two steps ahead of you as he picked you up and pinned you down to the bed. you let out a yelp, unable to move underneath his weight.

“i love you, alright? i would never hurt you like that. what did i say when i first put that promise ring and that pretty little finger?” your gaze softened, as did rafe’s. “you said you’d always be honest with me.” he nodded, letting your hands free. “i meant every word.” his voice was barely above a whisper as he leaned in slowly, taking your lips in a gentle kiss. as much as you adored this soft side of rafe, you couldn’t help but grind against him, his teeth nipping your bottom lip in response. “now i have to fuck you back in your place.”

[thedomesticanthropologist]

Astarion has so much guilt about victims like Sebastián because he had no excuse for targeting them beyond wanting to feel good, himself, and get some comfort for an evening.

I'll elaborate

No matter what, he HAS to try to bring back a victim. This is the order, and yeah he railed against it a few times and tried to escape/refuse but it's quickly shown that he gets that beaten out of him

So, who does he usually target? Easy prey. Drunks, brothel-goers, idiots. His words. He brings back people that are easier to catch, won't be missed, ect. But what is the reality of having to do that?

- Victims who are unwashed, sometimes to the extreme

- Victims who are physically and verbally abusive

- Victims who are esthetically unappealing/unattractive to him, sometimes to the extreme

- Shitfaced drunk victims who have all the appeal of your average shitfaced drunk

Then there were the unlucky, these would be neutral victims that he probably felt suffered the same fate of wrong place wrong time, like getting crushed by a falling air conditioning unit except it's getting brought back to Cazador.

But "then there were a few Sebastians"

His type. Soft, sweet, innocent. Genuinely interested in him. Caring. Beautiful. A victim that Astarion could actually pretend with, if only for a night. Where he could fake being on a real date, where he could dream of being free to make his own choices.

And by doing this, by targeting THESE people, he knows he's murdering them just for a brief chance at an encounter that serves him slightly. He's trading their entire lives for an evening away from his own torment.

He can rationalize the deaths of theives, beggars, predators, rapists, drunks,slobs, Because he dehumanizes them or judges them as not being worth a life (or having much of a life) anyway.

But those sweet moments where he got to play pretend? He can't excuse himself. He can't. He knows what he's done. He knows exactly what he's done and how he's ruined someone who otherwise would have or COULD have otherwise had a beautiful life. Been a good person, contributed to the world. He traded that for a brief, brief respite from his own personal hell.

No wonder he wanted to kill all the Spawn down there. No wonder he didn't want to face it. Because can you judge a dagger for being used to murder someone? No, you judge the wielder. He could easily have written off so many of them as him just being Cazadors dagger.

It's the ones he chose.

Those ones are the crux of his guilt.

[myafterlifeisbetterthenyours]

Hello, can we have Blitzø, Husk, Rosie, Sir Pentious and Valentino(separately) as a couple, it seems that he is cheating on him but in the end it turned out that they misunderstood him, how would they react to his mistake with his S/O?

Misunderstanding

Blitzø

Blitzø sat in his van, as he had for the past hour, a scowl across his face.

He'd followed you from the Cafe you always went too, then after seeing you on the phone he followed you all the way to some random ass fucking building.

He watched as you knocked, the door opening to reveal some Imp hunk, and you eagerly greeting the guy before walking in, you wrapping an arm around each other.

He was pissed.

But not just regular pissed.

He was Royally Pissed!

But more than that... he was hurt. Really hurt.

The Imp drove home depressed. Anger. Fury. Sadness and regret all sloshing around in him like too much BeelzaBrew. The Imp analysing your entire relationship.

He thought you had a happy relationship. Sure you fought, but it was never anything serious. And you always had the best Make up sex.

He drove around, with no real aim, his body on auto pilot. Just driving. Mindlessly. Completely unsure what to do.

He'd go home, of course after stopping by a drive through liquor stire, the man stumbling into your shared apartment, the man walking in before freezing.

Your calendar...

Marked on the calender was fucking (ANNIVERSARY). And sure enough, checking his phone, it was today.

Blitzø had a full breakdown, drunkenly crying as he curled up on the couch, the poor Imp crying his eyes out between heavy swigs of alcohol.

About an hour would pass until you got home, suspiciously large package in your arms.

You snuck into the apartment, getting everything set up until you found him curled up on the couch, the man grasping a bottle, with even more scattered about, the man sadly blubbering to himself.

Youd approach him, reaching out. "Babe, are you alright?"

He'd slap your hand away, man jerking up on the couch, the man glaring big sad daggers at you.

"Well, if it isn't the big faaaaat cheater!"

He was clearly drunk off his ass, so the accusation of cheating wasn't as painful as if he were sober.

He'd stumble to his feet, jabbing his finger at you. Or rather, in your general direction.

The Man was drunk off his ass.

"Ooooh yeah. Everybody thinks the Blitzø is some sorta, Uh... dumbass man!" He burped, man snifling. "But iiiiim noo a foul..."

You give him a minute, ignoring his verbal typos, before reaching out again, telling him gently.

"Blitzø. I think you need to sleep off your little drinking session before we talk."

But as soon as you placed a hand on his shoulder, he'd smack it away, and with the most righteous fury you'd ever seen in the man, screamed at you.

"I FUCKING SAW YOU WITH HIM!"

The man stumbling back tears in his eyes. "I saw you with that fucking bastard... I saw... I saw you..."

You stood there for a good minute before sighing, you telling him softly. "Wait here."

Youd walk into the kitchen, flipping the light on to reveal the humble spread you'd put out. And grabbing the 'package' carried it over to him.

The large 'package' was covered by a cloth, you placing it down before him, telling him simply.

"Open it."

Blitzø stared at you before looking down at the package, the man glaring daggers at you before reaching out and snatching the cloth off of it.

It revealed a magnificent portrait of Blitzø, the Imp riding a Hell-Stallion.

Blitzø's eyes bulged, the man staring dead at it for a solid minute, the man not even noticing himself dropping the bottle.

Youd set down, pulling him into the seat besides you, you taking his hands in yours.

Holding his hands you'd tell him softly. "The man you saw was an art teacher. I've been seeing him to learn how to paint."

You spoke slowly, making sure he heard you.

"I know we don't normally go big on Anniversary gifts, but I wanted to do something special, so I took some lessons so I could paint that for you."

Blitzø took a minute, looking between you and the painting before he burst into tears, the man pressing his face into your chest as he tearfully apologised.

"IIIII'mmm soooo soooorrrryyy!" He sobbed, drunkenly clinging onto you.

"I- I- I- didn't mean to!" He stuttered, blubbering. Youd just hold him close, gently patting his back as he sobbed into your chest.

You just soothed the poor man, hugging him close as he had his drunken meltdown.

He'd quickly cry himself out, soaking your shirt and apologising all the while, you just telling him it was alright, gently patting his back.

Eventually he'd pass out, man out like the dead, you carrying your drunken idiot of a S/O to bed, making sure to be prepared fortyhe inevitable hangover.

And sure enough, the next morning Blitzø endured a awful hangover, though even as he groaned and threw up he was still profusely apologising, the man feeling even worse when he saw the painting and everything you'd set up for him.

Of course, you didn't care, you were just happy the situation was resolved peacefully, you tending to your poor idiot of an S/O. Letting him curl up with you on the couch as he slept off his hangover, making sure he drank plenty of water, hand running down his spiky, bald dome of a head.

Husk

Husk felt miserable.

And the most surprising part about it, was that he was miserable.

Since you'd arrived at the hotel, he'd been in significantly better spirits. But for the past couple weeks you'd been disappearing for long swaths of time, often staying out till later in the evening.

Husk wasn't an idiot.

And while he did try to drown himself in alcohol, knowing fully well he couldn't die of liver failure.

Though he had lowered his drinking significantly since your arrival into his life, the man actually, and it was hard to say but, you'd made him a better man.

But he wasn't a stupid man.

Back when he actually cared about people, he'd been cheated on plenty, though that may have been mostly his fault as he'd always put too much attention on his drink, rather then those people he cared about. Something he had tried to change with you.

But you still found someone better...

He wasn't surprised. The drunk of a tomcat was a poor excuse of a partner.

He'd be slumped over the bar, as usual, drunkenly grumbling to himself, man downing a bottle of what he hoped wasn't paint thinner as he laid there in his drunken brooding.

The man grumbled, rubbing his eyes as tears stung his eyes, the man wondering what was wrong with him.

Why did he always lose everyone he loved?

Youd walk into the Hotel, approaching the man, in relatively good spirits. Seeing him splayed out, drunkenly grumbling to himself, you grew curious.

Walking over, youd pull up a stool, you sitting there for a long minute before you started getting concerned, so you reached out, placing your hand on his.

Husk jerked up, you jumping back in surprise.

Husk stared at you, you asking him simply.

"You alright babe?"

Husk just stared for a long, pregnant moment. Before looking away, the man sighing as he slumped forwards, man wiping his face.

He'd stand there for a fee moments, not looking at you, only for him to ask bluntly.

"What did I do...?"

You stared at him, not sure I'd you'd heard him correctly, so you asked.

"You alright-" though you didn't get to finish as he blurted out.

"What did I do?!" He snapped, man almost in tears. "What did I do? What did I fuck up?!?!"

You stared at him, genuinely unsure of what was happening.

Youd wrap your hand around his, asking him bluntly.

"What are you on about baby? What did you do?"

Hunker diiiiidnt like that response.

The man yanking his hand out of your grasp, whipping away from you, the man wiping his eyes.

"What did I do?!" He snapped. "Why wasn't I good enough for you?!"

At that things slowly started to connect.

"Baby... do you think I'm cheating on you?"

Husk paused, thinking 9ver your tmstatement before turning and staring at you.

"Your... not cheating on me?" He asked, the cat caught of guard.

You, with a gentle smile, shook your head, telling him. "Nooo baby, I'm not. I'd never cheat on you."

Husk stood there for a moment before bringing up your regular absences, the long stretches you'd spend out of the hotel.

To which you'd sigh.

After a moment, taking your seat, you'd tell him that you weren't cheating. You explained that you'd just met an exe from before you'd died. You weren't sleeping with them, but you had been spending time with them.

Not for sex but just... just to remember when you were alive. When life was good and you were in your prime, back on earth.

You apologised for keeping it a secret. It was selfish but it was kind of your escape from the constant shittyness that littered Hell, something to block out the horrors you witnessed on the daily.

You apologised for hiding it. Holding his hand tight as you sincerely apologised for not telling him.

Youd tearfully tell him you loved him, and that you were so sorry for making him think you didn't.

At this point it'd be a completely intoxicated Husker that would comfort you, the man pulling you into a hug. A hug you'd eagerly accept, you tearfully promising to never make him feel like that again.

Pulling him close before you'd share a kiss.

Said kiss would grow rapidly passionate, you eventually ending up behind the bar, you straddling the cat, the two of you pulling off manoeuvres that would make Angel Blush.

And in the end, all worked up and steamy, you'd curl up with each other behind the bar, the Kitty cat holding you close as you drifted off to sleep.

Needless to say it was awkward when Charlie found you both the next morning.

The situation not helped by Angel whining about missing out on the whole thing.

But with your tomcat close by, the both of you sharing a blush as you all pretended what had most definitely happened, did not happen, well, at least you had each other.

Rosie

Rosie wasn't one to beat around the bush.

She'd wait for you at the entrance to your home, the Amazonian sized demoness, sat back in one of her beautiful sitting chairs, the sort you'd find in a Victorian manor, just waiting for you, teacup in hand.

And upon walking into your shared home, shed confront you.

"Well Hello darling, you've been out a while."

She spoke coldly, you immediately knowing you were in the shit.

With a timid smile you'd begin. "Hello dear, your up late!" You spoke, trying to hide your rapidly growing anxiety.

Rosie didn't lighten up, the lady in red telling you bluntly. "You smell like cigarettes." He leaned back, a scowl crossing her face. "And you reek of alcohol."

He'd place her cup down, frowning deeply, black pools glaring at you.

"Where have you been (Y/N)?"

Your face would contort into an awkward smile, you scratching your kneck as you released an awkward laugh.

She didn't laugh.

Instead Asking bluntly.

"Why are you laughing!?" She snapped. "You think this is some kind of joke?!"

"Running around, reeking of alcohol and cigarettes, returning at all hours of the night." She snapped before looking away, growling out. "Do I mean so little too you?"

At that you snapped to attention, gawking for a second before blurting.

"You think I'm cheating?!"

You blurted, rushing over to her.

"Baby! Sweetie! Love of my eternally damned afterlife." You reached out, cupping her cheek. "I am not cheating on you."

Rosie staring down at you, asking gently.

"Then what are you doing? Why are you out at night? Why do you reek like cigarettes and alcohol. Why have you been so secretive before disappearing all night?"

At that you sighed, nodding your head.

"Rose, my love, I have a confession." You began, running a thumb over her cheek. "Put simply, I can't drink any more tea."

You sighed, feeling like a weight had been lifted.

"What?" Rosie asked, clearly bewildered.

"Rosie my love, I love you. I love our home. And the aesthetic. And all the pottery and plating and all that stuff. But well, I've been going to a sports bar."

Rosie paused, clearly confused.

"Baby, I miss TVs. I miss modern, mass produced comfy couches. I miss the depleted unsustainable economy of a life you probably never saw."

"I miss cheap beer and overly salty peanuts and wings smothered in addictive sauce." You sighed, almost shuddering.

Rosie sat there for a moment, clearly confused before asking bluntly.

"If thats all it is, then why all the secrey darling?"

You gave another awkward smile, scratching your head. "Well, I know you don't like the 'false decadence of a unurned age of self indulgent walfwits', and I don't want you to, I don't know. I didn't want you to feel like I was choosing the cheap, crapy food and drink over you."

You finished solemnly, looking to the floor.

Rosie, seeing this sighed, reaching out before pulling you in close. "I'm sorry for thinking you were cheating darling."

You chuckled, telling her in turn. "And I'm sorry for not telling you darling. I promise, I'll be more honest from now on."

Rosie chuckled, and you leaned in for a kiss.

Before your lips met however, she pressed a finger to your lips, telling you bluntly.

"I'm not kissing you while your breath stinks of beer and cigarettes."

To which you broke into laughter, stumbling to your knees, head in her lap, giggling away.

"I love you Rose baby~" You purred, looking up at her.

Rosie just smiled back, running her hand through your hair.

"I love you too darling... even if you are an idiot."

The both of you breaking into laughter, you simply laying there, a pleasant mood filling the air.

Sir Pentious

Pentious was a mess.

Bottles of wine were strewn about his airships sitting room, the snake man sobbing as he drunkenly gulped wine from a bottle.

He'd wipe his face, forearm already soaked through with tears.

"Why doth you need to be a loutous betrayer!" He yelled.

It was perhaps his most unique quirk. The man liking to incorrectly imitate old Shakespearian speech when drunk, often saying thing that sounded almost right, but most certainly weren't.

Hed lay there, wallowing in self pity for who knows how long until you'd finally find him. Having searched the house you'd find the empty wine rack, already knowing something was wrong.

And while you'd already checked every place in the manor before, the trail of wine bottles had given his 'sactuary' away.

Youd knock on the steel door before gently sliding it open.

"Hello dear..." You began, staring at the wiggling mass of snake that splaid out before you. "Is everything alright?" You asked softly.

The snake snapped towards you, grabbing you, before throwing you onto the fainting couch he had splaid out.

Youd blush as he drunkenly scowled.

"Ooooooh~ like you don't know!" He drunkenly slurred. "Like you don't know why I'm drinking, you and that *hic* man... that bastard you've been seeing."

To which you'd stare at him, blushing as he leered over you.

Rubbing your face, you'd sigh, leaning forwards and gently cupping his face.

"Penty... he's a tailor." You sighed softly. "I'd never cheat on you."

You finished, but the snake simply stared at you for several moments, processing.

"Tailor... but what about all the... well I saw you undress?" He stated, conflicted.

Youd sigh, gently slipping out from under him ast you stepped out of the room.

Pentious would gulp down the rest of his bottle before you stepped in.

Youd be wearing a rather skimpy, of seductive, version of his outfit. The piece just covering enough to be seen in public, though obviously meant for the bedroom.

"I uh, I thought it'd be fun for... ya know... the bedroom~"

Pentious, red faced, smirked. His body recoiled, priming for a strike, and with the finesse of a heavily intoxicated snake, he snatching you up once more, throwing you onto his bundles up tail, his long lower form gripping you, holding you down.

"Well... I guess I've got to punish you~" He purred, leaning in.

"P-punish me?" You stuttered, face flushed as the man pinned your arms above your head.

Pentious smirking, face flushed lightly as he leaned in, hot breath on your neck as he purred.

"Of coursssssse~" she hissed, tongue flicking your neck. "You run around, scaring me to death~ Making me think the worst. "

His hands ran down your chest, tail sizing as it held you down, leaning in close before smirking, hot, wine tainted breath on your neck as he suddenly bit you.

Youd moan, the man injecting just enough venom to get you high. A speciality of Pentious', the man having used his vemon on your more then once~

But now, he was smirking, domineering you with little effort, tail bound, venom high, he'd trail kisses down your body, kissing you all over.

Youd be at his mercy, the man teasing, torturing you with the promise of pleasure, making you submit to him.

By the end of the night, you'd be a quivering, gasping and moaning mess, Pentious smirking victoriously as you lay besides him, face red, bite marks littering your body as you softly moaned and writhed in pleasure.

With a sadistic smirk covering his face, your legs wrapped around his snake hips, he'd lean in, whispering as he always did when in control.

"Don't worry darling... I'm not halfway close to being done with you~" He purred.

Valentino

Valentino was not happy.

You were deceiving him. Lying to him.

And that could not stand. He was out of the loop. And he hated being out of the loop.

Well that wasn't entirely true.

Truth was, you were telling him you were doing one thing, while you actually did something else.

Though he want sure why you bothered with the deception. He had more informants and eyes then anyone in Pentagram.

Well, except maybe Vox, man had eyes in almost every damn device in Pride, so he probably had him beat in that department.

But well, he knew you'd done something involving your anniversary. More then likely relating to a gift for him.

Though he'd intentionally not found out what it was, the man still liking some surprises in his life.

He'd watch you "sneak" into his penthouse, you smiling and giggling like an idiot. The man smiling as he watched you 'sneak' into his penthouse, covering something in your coat

"Welcome home darling." He spoke smoothly, smiling as you froze in place.

Youd turn suddenly, hiding thr gift behind your back.

"H-hey! Val! Baby! Didn't, uh, I didnt know you were home." You spoke awkwardly, scratching your cheek awkwardly.

You smiled a broad, awkward smile.

Val held back a smile, flushed with adoration, but couldn't express it, not wanting to let you on.

"I know." He spoke coldly, snuffing his cigarette before standing, you shrinking under his imposing form.

Reaching into his coat, you leaned back, eyes closed, expecting the worse.

"Happy anniversary sweetheart."

Opening your eyes, you'd find his hand extended, a white box with a big red bow atop it.

Staring at it for a moment, you'd look up at him with a cocked brow. The man simply smiling back, giving a little smile of his own.

Suddenly it snapped into place.

"OH!" You gasped, almost jumping in place.

Holding the present you'd turn rigid, before slumping, looking down you spoke glumly.

"Oh... Well... I'm guessing you know what this is then?"

Val just chuckled, reaching out and cupping your chin. "A gift. Anything else? I'm in the dark." He finished smoothly.

Youd release a relieved sigh, hand to your chest. Looking up at him you'd smile, leaning in and kissing his cheek before looking down at your present.

"Here, hold this." You told him, holding the present out to him.

Taking it from you, he watched as you turned around, lifting the rectangular present up, before carrying it into the other room.

When he tried to follow, you'd call back. "Nu-uh! No peeking! I'll tell you when you can come in."

To which he just chuckled, rolling his eyes as he leant against the door frame.

And so, standing there for a minute or two he'd wait for you, hearing you as you scrambled around, something glass shattering, your little mumbles and curses making him chuckle.

And so, after some waiting you'd call out.

"Come in."

After which hed step in, looking around the room until he spotted something on the wall. It was obviously your gift, covered in some sheet.

And so, turning to you, he'd give you your gift again, which you subsequently placed down, eagerly leading him to your gift.

Normally, he would have taken great insult at that, but given he was as interested in seeing your gift, as you were excited for him to see it, he decided to let it slide.

And so, with an eager nod from you, he'd tear the sheet off, the man stupefied.

It was him. Or well, a painting of him, and a handsome one at that. It was him sat back, his ever present luxurious coat complementing his stern face as he smoked a cigarette.

He stared at it for several moments before he turned to you, you utterly shaking in excitement.

"Do you like it?!" You asked, almost bursting at the seems.

"No." He spoke bluntly. He let it hang in the air for just a moment. Before reaching an arm out, he'd twirl you into his grasp, the man planting a deep passionate kiss. "I love it~"

Hearing it your smile came back in full force.

"Well that's good, cause I painted it." You spoke with a goofy giggle, puffing out your chest all proudly.

Now that took him off guard.

The man showing a rare flash of surprise, as he snapped between you and the portrait, That flash of surprise enough to make you giggle up a storm.

"Yyyyyep!" You grinned. "All those 'outings' were lessons. Been seeing this professional artist for lessons and now-"

You turned proudly, smiling at the present.

"I think I did the source material justice."

Val stood there for a minute, before the man scratched his cheek, telling you in a playful voice. "Well, for once I think my gift is outclassed."

Hearing that you'd release a gentle snort, rolling your eyes.

Picking up his gift, you'd step forwards, gently cupping his cheek. "Dont worry baby, its from you. I know ill love it."

Val smiled, gently kissing your palm as you pulled back, letting you open the gift.

It was a small red box, the words 'Love you forever~' etched into the top, the smooth rosey wood that expensive kind of glossy.

Opening said gift, you'd find a rather beautiful golden locket, the simple gold heart having the words 'My Love Forever~'. "Oh, babe, it's beautiful." You gushed, hand to your chest.

Val stepped forwards, still surprisingly meek as he took it from your hand, binding it around your neck before pulling up up, holding it in his palm as he showed it off. The man easily opening it open to reveal images inside.

The left was a beautiful image of you and Val in a loving embrace, you recognised it from one of your first dates. It was a good memory.

And in the right, well, let's just say it was a raunchy image of a very undressed Val, the man smiling a very Val like smile.

And so, clicking the locket closed, you smiled, taking his hand in your own.

"Ya know... I've been wanting to do one of you in your 'natural glory' for a while now~" you spoke, making sure your intention couldn't be missed.

"But first." You began, grabbing his fuzzy collar, pulling him towards the bedroom. "But first, I think I need some... physical refrences~"

Val, simply smirked, man shedding his coat as you made it to the bed, where the two of you... tried out some positions for your next piece.

[felassan]

Letters from Lovers

Transcriptions of the letters from the various gear store items. under cut for length.

Isabela:

“My dear Hawke, Do you know anyone with a flock of parrots? I'm trying to cheat on a bet with Varric and the stakes are exceedingly high. If you help me, I shall take you to that breathtaking beach you so crave. Free of ancient horrors, too. I think. I'd hate to take respite from all my adventures, but there are other ways to make the heart flutter. In fact I'm already imagining a few. Aren't you? Sailing there can be fatal, but Admiral Isabela will keep you safe. Are you interested? I would love to see you again. Yours, Isabela”

Morrigan:

“My love, Now before that grin reaches your ears, perish the thought that this letter was my idea. 'Tis Kieran who would not give me peace until I wrote to ask how you are faring. Regale us, if you please, with another of your tales that I might read to him in bed. He is particularly fond of those wherein you spur mischief whilst you save the day. Thank you for your most delightful gifts. I shall make certain to wear them the next time you come home. Dream of me until then, my Hero of Ferelden, and have a care. Morrigan”

Dorian:

“My dearest Amatus, Home is ever as it was: a glittering whirl of dancing, politics, and murder. I'm used to people staring daggers at me - I quite relish it, actually - but the glares seem to possess a new intensity since my return to Tevinter. Do they disapprove of House Pavus freeing its slaves while I work in the Magisterium to end slavery across Tevinter? Perhaps they simply covet my cheekbones, and who could blame them? Real reform will take time, but we're making inroads. I miss you terribly, Amatus, perhaps almost as much as you miss me. I treasure you and your belief in my work here. Yours always, Dorian P.S. I wouldn't take it amiss if you might send me another barrel of that dreadful Fereldan beer?”

Alistair:

“My love, How are you? Is it true that you recently killed darkspawn with only a mean glare and a pointy stick? Ferelden is ablaze with this rumor! You do give people so much hope. Tales of your heroism never fail to astonish me and almost ease the pain of going to sleep without you by my side. Almost. I can't wait to be with you again. I'd bring you some roses, you could give me a tour of the keep, we'd drink with the new recruits and then cuddle in a tent. Without the new recruits! Tent time is just for the two of us. I want to make that clear. Now excuse me while I practice my death glare and rummage through the dog's stash of sticks. I love you. Yours forever, Alistair.”

The Iron Bull:

“Kadan, You won’t believe what I did today. I got a guy to flip! Twice! So yes, all is well. Except for all the demons. And this whole thing in which I’m far away from the love of my life. Really keeps me up at night. Anyway, you hearing these rumors of a dragon on the loose? Yeah! The boys and I are on its trail. Last I heard, it was flying toward the Frostback Mountains. Can you join us? I hope you’re not uh… all tied up. Don’t worry, I’m fairly certain it’s not a Ben-Hassrath trap. And if it is, you know I’m prepared. Ataash varin kata! I love you, Kadan. See you soon. The Iron Bull.”

Tali:

“By the way, I left something for you up in your cabin. Go have a look.” - Tali’Zorah  --- “Dear Shepard,   As you may remember, I presented this picture frame to you as a gift on the Normandy. It was my way of expressing my admiration for you and our bond as comrades-in-arms. On the back of the metal frame, I've emblazoned a promise that will never fade - 'Shepard, wherever you go, I'm with you.'  I know it's not much, but...this is what I look like under the mask. I'm sorry if it's not what you were expecting. I know Quarian faces can be a bit...different. Every time you look at my picture, I hope you will be reminded of our adventures on the Normandy, from our battles against the Reapers to our intimate conversations in the privacy of our quarters.    I am not one to express my emotions openly, but thank you for being my friend, my confidante, and my inspiration. I look forward to many more adventures together.  Keelah se’lai,   Tali’Zorah”

Bonus:

Shepard's N7 acceptance letter, from Anderson:

“N7 Congratulations on your graduation From Captain David Anderson Shepard, When I graduated from the N7 program I had the honor of meeting Admiral Grissom, the man who inspired me to pursue a career in the service, and I never thought I’d feel prouder in my life. I was mistaken. Don’t get me wrong, it was a big day. An important day. But there’s something about welcoming driven young people like yourself into the ranks that’s also pretty damn satisfying. Your distinguished service record may have gotten you into this program - but it was your courage, integrity, and tenacity that’s enabled you to join an elite few. You represent the best of humanity, and I feel certain you’ll make the galaxy a better place. And I’m not the only one who feels this way. Becoming an N7 means the entire Systems Alliance is telling you one thing - we believe in you. Let me end by saying this. Welcome to the team Shepard. We know you won’t let us down. David Anderson Systems Alliance Interplanetary Combatives Academy N7 N7 Acceptance Letter”

[cozage]

I love your work and how you write story's, I just want ask, Zoro and Sanji's confession? They could be separated or together I'm not picky! You can choose the story btw, Sanij feels like a malewife finna be honest

Confession

Send me an event request!

Characters: g/n reader x Sanji, Zoro Cw: post battle for Zoro but nothing crazy Total word count: 460

Zoro

“That was sloppy!” Zoro scolded, storming over to you. 

“I got it done, didn’t I?” you snapped back. Zoro would be the only person to critique you after you had just taken down five men single-handedly. 

“And you’ll get yourself killed in the future if you do it like that again!” He sheathed his swords and offered his hand to you. 

“Oh yeah? And what do you care if I live or die?” You stood up without taking his hand, staring daggers at him. 

“I care.” 

You scoffed, turning around and heading back to the ship. “You have a funny way of showing it.”

“Hey!” Zoro’s hand gripped your wrist and pulled you back to him. “I care. A lot.”

You were so close to him, you could feel his ragged breath steamy against your skin. His fingers ghosted across your arms, sending shivers down your back. Your own breath caught in your throat, electricity humming through your veins. 

His eyes fixated on your lips. “I just don’t always know how to show it.”

You wanted to ask him what he meant, but you were frozen in the moment. Waiting for him to make a move.

His fingers moved up your arms and danced along your jawline, cupping your cheeks and anchoring you to him. Then his lips pressed firmly against yours, and your entire world flipped upside down as he kissed you with everything he had. 

Sanji

Sanji had confessed his love for you every day since you met him. It never felt real, especially considering he would go tell every other girl the exact same thing the moment you left his frame of view. 

But then Sanji stopped saying it to other girls. He only reserved his sweet talk for you, Nami, and Robin. And even then, he was always sweeter with you than with the others. 

“What’s going on with you?” you asked, walking into the kitchen. “Why did you make me this chocolate heart? Nami and Robin said they didn’t get one?”

“I told you, my love,” Sanji cooed, looking at the heart in your hands. “I’ve given you my heart!”

“Right.” You rolled your eyes, but your heart beat faster in your chest. “I bet you say that to every girl you see.”

“I used to,” he admitted. “But I haven’t said it to another soul in the past 42 days.”

“Really?” you scoffed. “And why’s that?”

“Because 42 days ago is when I realized it.” Sanji took a step closer to you, and your breath caught in your throat as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s when I realized I loved you with all my heart. And you’re the only one for me, now.”

[saberlight1]

exes and oh’s — billy the kid

pairing: billy bonney x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of violence, Y/N usage, established relationship, possessive!billy, arguments, standard billy the kid warnings.

authors note: im starting to think i have a problem.. 3 fics in one day lmfao. this one was based off of this request— thank you anon. i hope you all enjoy this one <33

masterlist

Ever since the day Billy had asked you to be his, he had thought the constant bugging of men around you would come to an end. But it seemed to be that the Bonney man only noticed those men’s stares towards you even more.

He sat at the bar you currently worked as he watched yet another man eye you from the corner of the room. It made his blood boil, his knuckles turning white from the harsh grip on his shot glass.

“Baby, leave the glass alone.” You teased with that charming smile that made him weak in the knees. “It ain’t done nun’ to ya,”

He put it down, your soft southern accent making his anger simmer down in a instant. “Sorry, honey.”

“What’s got you starin’ daggers over there?” You re-poured his now empty glass with whiskey.

“Them men starin’ at you.” His eyes darkened as he looked at you through his brows, his fingertips circling the rim of the shot glass.

Your tongue darted out across your bottom lip at his admission, his words making a deep want towards your outlaw settle in your gut knowing how protective he was of you.

“They can look all they want, darlin’.” You tried to ease his anger with a gentle voice. “You’re the only one that I’d ever let touch me—you know that.”

“It’s not you I don’t trust.” He murmurs as he leans back, his eyes boring into yours.

“Hey, foxy..” One of the men he was talking about now stood in front of you, slurring his words. “You’re mighty fine, mind if we.. talk somewhere privately?” He winked, making you want to throw up. “I’d love to see how you look under them fine clothes of yours,”

You looked him up and down in disgust. “I’m alright, sir. Got someone else in mind for tonight,” You looked at Billy from the corner of your eye, your cowboy smirking up at you. You sighed as you went to grab the drunken man’s glass to refill—he was still a customer after all.

His grueling grip caught your wrist before you could even grab the glass—almost pulling you over the bar.

“You little bitch, can’t take a real man, huh?” He spat as you let out a yelp, trying to get out of his grasp.

“Back the fuck off.” Billy’s menacing figure appeared from beside the man, throwing the man back by his shoulder, causing him to fall on his ass.

He groaned, but was back on his feet within seconds. “The fuck it mean to you, huh? I wan’ her, so she’s mine.”

The second the man finished his sentence, Billy’s fast fist made contact with his jaw hard, the man being back to his spot on the floor. “Don’t you ever fuckin’ say those words about her.” He hissed, leaning down to place more punches to the man’s bloodied face. You watched in a mixture of horror and admiration—mostly admiration.

The man below him only let out a cackle in return. “Oh, I see. She’s your whore,” He spat blood into Billy’s face, and you swore the whole room stopped at his words.

Billy’s cocked back arm stopped at his words, and within seconds his pistol was pointed at the man’s forehead. “What did you just say?” He yelled. “I’ll fuckin’ kill you—”

You grabbed his forearm, pulling him back up. “Billy, please—” He turned to you, panting as you tried to calm that wild look in his eye. “That piece of shit ain’t worth it, c’mon, baby.” Your eyes flickered between his, and after a moment, he sighed before relenting and putting the gun away.

“Yeah, gotta get your bitch to sort out your favors—” The man continued to talk shit, but Billy cut him off with a swift kick to the ribs.

“Shut the fuck up.” Billy rasped out, looking down upon the man.

“C’mon,” You pulled his hand, taking him to the room in the back. You were glad it was around last call—the bar being mainly empty. You sat him down on some old crates before you turned to grab the spare med-kit you had hidden back there months prior.

Once you had everything ready, you held your hand out, signaling Billy to hand you his cut and bruised knuckles. He did, knowing better than to argue with you on the matter.

Your heart sank in your chest when you first saw them. “Billy, you’ve gotta stop gettin’ into fights over me.” You whispered, your eyes not leaving his hand.

His other hand reached out to angle your jaw so your eyes would met his. “Darlin’, I’m never gon’ stop fightin’ for you. You know that.” He shook his head with a smile. “He ain’t even get a lick in—I’m fine.”

“I know you can handle yourself.” You mutter in reply. “I just don’t like seein’ you hurt. Regardless of how bad—I don’t like it. Nor do I like watchin’ you put yourself in danger for me.” You retort with a pointed look.

His gaze lowered. “Now, lady, let’s not pretend you haven’t done the same. I’ve witnessed some pretty crazy cat fights after hours at the boardin’ house,” He teased, his hand now cupping your jaw.

You sighed, trying to fight back the smile that threatened to break free. “Jus’ please, be careful.”

“Always am.” He leaned forward to kiss the frown off your face, his hands sliding down your body in order to squeeze your hips.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, drawing him closer to your body as you smiled against his lips.

He pulled back, leaning his forehead onto yours. You both sat there for a couple of moments, enjoying the comfortable silence.

You placed one last kiss to his plump lips. “Alright, let me see that hand of yours.” You asked, and when he placed it into yours, you got to work. You disinfected and bandaged it to ensure it wouldn’t get an infection. “That should do it,” You whispered as you finished tying the cloth, leaning down to press a kiss to his knuckles. “Thank you for defendin’ me, honey.”

You swore that even in the darkness of the room you were currently in that you could see his cheeks turn a light shade of pink. “I’m always gon’ defend you, baby.” He whispered, pulling you up by your hand to place you in his lap, his arms slithering around you as he placed a kiss to your cheek. He went quiet for a moment before he turned to grab something. You looked at him questionably when you saw that glint in his eye.

He smirked as he placed his signature hat onto your head. “There.” He admired his work as he fixed your hair, styling it to compliment the hat. “That should tell all those fuckers that you’re mine.”

Your teeth sunk into his bottom lip at his words as your eyes flickered between his. “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” You whispered, the tip of his hat hitting his head as you leaned in to reconnect your lips again.

He didn’t mind—he thought it looked better on you anyways.

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

Imagine taking Rayleigh and Shakky out on a date

This is part 2 of this post

Rayleigh: so you want to take us out on a pretend date to spite your first mate and captain for bullying you?

Reader: I know how it sounds, but I figured it'd be a good way to get back at them.

Shakky: While I'm all for helping you get revenge, I don't understand your logic.

You: well, Rayleigh is Shanks's father figure.

Rayleigh: That's not how I'd put it, but I suppose I'm the closest thing he's got.

You: And while I know you two have an open relationship, I thought fucking my captain's father figure would be crossing a line.

Shakky: probably a wise move.

You: And I wanted you to go on a fake date with you, Shakky because Benn has had a crush on you for years, but has been too nervous to ask you out on a date.

Rayleigh: so a date, with both of us, would be two birds with one stone.

Shakky: Oh, I know about his little crush, his poker face is terrible

You: I know, right? I saw him in here earlier, looking at you, he was about as subtle as a sea train.

Rayleigh: *turns to his wife,* What do you think?

Shakky: I dunno.

You: I'll pay for dinner.

Shakky: Deal.

Rayleigh: Pick us up at six thirty tonight.

That night during dinner

Rayleigh: *drinking straight from the wine bottle you ordered*, So how's the brat supposed to know you took us on a date?

You: Well, he planned on dining here at seven, so by the time our food arrives, he should be here. But you know him, he's not good at sticking to plans. If he doesn't come, we could take a picture as a backup plan.

Shakky: Sounds like a plan, in the meantime, we should have a proper date.

Rayleigh: yes, tell us about yourself.

An hour later

You: And Shanks, buck ass naked, slips on the wet rocks, falls, and smacks against the surface of the water!

Shanks: (y/n)?

You: *looks over to notice Shanks and his inner circle gawking at you*

Rayleigh: hey sport

Shanks: what's going on here?

Shakky: what does it look like? We're having a date with this little cutie. *wraps her arms around you and rests her head on your shoulder, giving a pointed smirk at Benn*

Rayleigh: *puts his arm around both you and Shakky and pulls you into his side,* They were just telling us about your skinny sipping mishap on Koala Island.

Shanks: No

You: yep

Benn: *glaring daggers at you,* You little shit, how long has this been going on?

You: Not long, this is the first date.

Shanks: Is this because of what we said two weeks ago?

You: a little

Shanks: *pouts,* We were just teasing.

Shakky: You're interrupting our date, it's quite rude.

Shanks: Fine, enjoy your evening.

Later

Shanks: *alone, passed out drunk on his table*

Rayleigh: *sighs* this boy I swear.

Shakky: Want to ditch him with our tab?

You: Yeah, but we're not gonna leave him without the cash, *pulls out his wallet and puts the Berry you brought along inside before sliding it back into his pocket*

The next day on the Red Force

You: *walks onto the ship only for everyone to stare at you*

Benn: You have some explaining to do.

Shanks: *bursts out of his cabin,* Did you fuck them?

You: no, I thought that'd be crossing a line.

Shanks: then where did you stay last night?

You: In their guest room, I helped Shakky open this morning because Rayleigh had wandered off after our date... Look, it wasn't a real date, Boss, I was upfront with them about my intentions.

Shanks: We didn't bully you.

You: It certainly felt like it to me, and when I voiced that hurt, you didn't apologize, and basically told me to stop sulking. So I wanted you to know how it felt, so I asked Rayleigh and Shakky to help me get back at you for bullying me.

Shanks: I see, *reflects on his behavior for a moment* I'm sorry we teased you, it was supposed to be a joke but ended up hurting your feelings.

You: Apology accepted.

Shanks: Now, please never date any of my former crew mates from my time with Roger.

You: I promise I won't knowingly date any of them.

Shanks: I don't like the way you phrased that, but fine, I guess.

Benn: Now that that's done, tell me how in the hell you got Shakky to go on a date with you.

You: Again, it was a fake date, but I simply asked.

Benn: I was afraid you were gonna say that.

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[itsangelll]

𝙵𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚊 𝙳𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 ❦

A/n:WELL it’s been a bit since I’ve had a damn fic out and I’d sincerely like to apologise. I forgot I had tumblr for a while and I know I’m lazy with fics. BUT HERES THIS ONE!! Took me 3 months to finish it it’s insane guys but I hope you all enjoy!! 💋

pairings:Tom 2010 x f!reader

genre:smut

warnings:swearing fingering and squirting!!

Under 15 dni

please don’t steal or copy my works thank you.

You and Tom were at an after party with the humanoid album just released it made a huge difference, it was selling world wide. you were chatting with the band “Tom I’m gonna go grab a drink I’ll be back.” He nodded and continued chatting with the band barely paying any attention towards you.

You walk over to the bar nodding at the bartender “what can I get for you?” she asked “whatever I don’t mind.” A few seconds later you skulled your drink down to feel somewhat tispy to at least lighten up this party, you feel a tap on your shoulder you turn around and you were greeted with a handsome man.

“You want some company love?” he asked looking intrigued you look over at Tom seeing he’s still wrapped up in a conversation, so you nod “yeah sure have a seat”. He smiled and sat next to you “so how come your all alone?” “Oh I just went to grab a drink since my own boyfriend is too wrapped up in a conversation to talk to me.” skulling down another drink he nods.

“Well I must say you’re quite beautiful if I was dating you I’d make sure all my attention was on you.” you swat his arm playfully laughing. Tom looked over in your direction his expression darkened, his grip tightened on his glass it could shatter.

He excused himself from the group and made his way over to you. You and the guy from the bar were laughing your asses off till you felt a pair of arms grip your waist tightly, Tom lowered his head as he whispered “Go upstairs now.” you shook your head standing your ground, “I’m actually having a conversation with someone if your not fucking blind you can wait.”

Taking another sip of your drink you could cut the tension with a knife Tom pulled you up from the stool “I told you to get the fuck upstairs.” you ignored him and without another word, he pushed you foward forcing you upstairs you didn’t move still standing your ground. “Do I have to do everything my fucking self” he muttered he lifted you up off the ground and took you up the steps into a room slamming the door behind him.

He set you down gently on the ground his gaze burning into yours leaning against the wall “So you wanna explain to me what the fuck happened downstairs?” His voice raised you shrugged “Nothing happened someone wanted to keep me company so I let him am I not allowed to talk to other guys now?” a bit of attitude in your tone.

He scoffed “You sure nothing happened because you two looked pretty cozy from where I was sitting.” You rolled your eyes “You weren’t even paying attention to me anyways at least someone was.” Tom got off the wall and walked closer to you trapping you between his body and the wall. He gripped your chin firmly making you look up towards him his jaw clenched.

“You know I’m getting real fucking sick of your attitude towards me liebe I do everything for you and this is how I get treated?” His voice low and firm you stayed silent not knowing what to say, “Typical” you stared daggers at him “You know what fuck you tom if you payed some attention to me we wouldn’t even be arguing now.”

Tom absolutely snapped he grabbed you and threw you on the bed he towered over you crashing his lips onto yours in a hungry kiss “you’re such a fucking brat” he murmured against your lips then biting on your bottom lip. He grabbed your hips tightly, you whined against his lips desire coursing through your body.

He bit down on your lower lip before pulling away, his dark orbs boring into yours. His hands ripping of your shorts then your underwear throwing them somewhere in the room. “You know I’ve done everything for you and this is how I get treated?” Tom spoke, you couldn’t say much cause it was true you’ve been acting like a bitch these past few weeks.

He scoffed and lifted your chin up, his lips connecting with your neck. Before biting down harshly on the skin you hissed the pain coming through more than normal. His calloused fingers snaked its way down to your cunt before brutally plunging a finger deep into your hole (okay no.) you moaned your hands gripping the bed sheets.

Tom’s lips left your neck his forehead resting against yours, his finger still moving in and out of your cunt before slowly sliding a second finger in, then his thumb moving in harsh circles on your clit, “T-Tom it’s too much please.” your voice shaky “Hush you can take it you’ll be fine.” His voice sharp.

You moaned and writhed against him. His fingers not letting up carefully putting a third finger in and that fucking hurt his thumb moved even more harsh on your clit it becoming puffy and swollen. (no.) the knot in your stomach was getting tighter and your legs started shaking but Tom wasn’t letting up, he kept going at his harsh pace.

Within a few seconds you couldn’t take it anymore you hand clutched his jeans and you moaned his name loudly, squirting all over his fingers he moaned lowly at the sight of that. “Well well would you look at that.”

The smirk evident in his tone Tom removed his fingers out of your cunt grabbing a tissue to clean his fingers off, getting up from the bed and grabbing a towel to clean you up. (AWH AINT HE SWEET??) He pressed a kiss to your forehead and wrapped his arms around your waist. You blissfully fell asleep in his arms.

A/n:It was a bit rushed towards the end but I’m hoping that I can come out with more fics rather than every three months cause I’ll feel bad if I starve you guys :( but I hope you guys enjoys mwah mwah bye cuties <33

Taglist:

@itsmealaiah

@jadedchar

@chinoslefttoehair

@bambiwrites

@memzyyy

@tomsbbg

@tomksslut

@rottinglilys

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

May I please request something involving Rise!Raph where he confides in the reader that he’s a little insecure about his size when someone calls him “bubble butt”?

Big Teddy Bears Are The Best (Angst/Fluff)

Rise!Raphael x reader

A/N: Gotta show Raphie and his beautiful size some love❤️

Warnings: Insecurities about size, cat calling, expression of insecurities.

There was no doubt in Raph’s mind - you were the best thing that had ever happened to him. Ever since you had gained knowledge about him and his brothers, you had always been there for them. A close friend that they could always count on, always ready to help with whatever they needed. The fact that you were so calm and helpful when taking care of him and his family, made Raph’s head calm yet his heart flutter. It didn’t take long before he started developing feelings for you. You were absolutely amazing.

But if there was one day better than the day Raph met you, was the day the two of you got together. It was like a dream come true for the snapping turtle. To be able to hold you close and call you his.

But there were times where Raph would get… insecure, is probably the right way to put it. You were a beautiful human. The prettiest Raph had ever seen. There were times he still couldn’t believe you were real, and not just an amazing dream come true. And he… yeah, he was what he was. A big, large, mutant snapping turtle, so large that his hand was as big as your head. There were times where he would spend much of this time, thinking about it, feeling his insecurities nag inside of him. That gave way to many questions, that just wouldn’t leave him alone. What did you see in him? How could you love someone like him? Would you want to stay with him?

But whenever you would enter the room, all those worries would fall away, lightning up Raph’s state once more, as he would hold you close and let you pepper his face with kisses, the same way he would with you. He would remember the nickname you had given him, exactly because of his large size - teddy bear. Your teddy bear. Words you would tell him, before embracing him in another loving hug. Truly the best thing that has ever happened to him.

Together, you and Raph would frequent many places together, hand in hand on many wonderful and amazing dates, that the two of you would remember forever. In the disguise of human clothing, you would bring Raph with you out around New York City, or Raph would bring you with him down to the Hidden City. So far neither you or Raph had experienced any problems with that. Your dates had always gone smoothly, providing you with the time together that the both of you held so dear. During these dates, Raph would be too occupied to worry about his size or nature. Well, that was until the two of you took a stroll around Central Park.

Hand in hand, you and Raph walked together through the park, laughing and smiling at whatever conversation you were in, with not a worry in the world. That was until a group of three women came by in the opposite direction. Their eyes were locked on Raph, taking in his towering height with awe. Raph grew uneasy, feeling their eyes on him. For a moment he feared that he hadn’t brought his hood up high enough, and that they had noticed his turtle-like features. He tried to keep his focus on you, yet out of the corner of his eye, he kept an eye on the staring women as they came closer and closer, just about to pass by the two of you. But then one of them spoke, a teasing smile on her lips as he stared directly at Raph, her words causing him to stop dead in his tracks.

“Looking good there, bubble butt!”

Raph froze but you turned, staring daggers into the woman that had just cat called your boyfriend. One thing was to cat call a person in general, but to do it while they were walking with their partner? They must have lost their minds! You would have run after them and given them a piece of mind, but instead you turned your focus to your boyfriend, who’s spirit seemed to be dampened quite a bit. His gaze was now directed towards the ground, his brow muscles pushed together in a worried expression.

“Raph?”, you asked, holding his hand in your much smaller ones, your thumb stroking his knuckles with loving care. “Raphy bear, are you okay?”

Raph did not answer. Instead his head started flooding with the same insecurities that normally only seemed to take place when he was alone. But with the soft feeling of your thumbs on his hand, he finally brought himself to look you in the eyes, unsure on how to explain the tumult of emotions he was feeling. With a sigh, he finally decided to tell you, realizing there would be no benefit of hiding his thoughts any longer.

“(Y/N)”, Raph said, avoiding your eyes as he spoke, nervousness growing within him, fearing the worst would happen. But he had to say it. He just had to.  “Am I… Am I too big for you?”

You cocked your head in confusion, clearly understanding what he was asking you. “What?”

Raph swallowed the lump in his throat. “It’s just… for some time now… I’ve been feeling… I’ve been fearing that I’m too big. That I’m too big for you”. You stared at Raph, your thumbs coming to a halt, your silence causing him to grow even more worried. “(Y/N)? Babe? Please talk to me. I need to know-”.

Before Raph could finish his sentence, you cut him off by wrapping your arms around him, as far as they would go, pulling him in for a tight hug, smiling up at him with that beautiful smile of yours that made him weak in the knees.

“Raph, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me! You’re the sweetest, greatest and most wonderful person I’ve ever met”, you said, resting your chin against his clothes-covered plastron. “And your size? I’ve already told you that you’re my teddy bear, and big teddy bears are the best!”

Your words made Raph’s heart flutter, feeling small tears of happiness press against the back of his eyes. Wrapping his arms around you, pulling you closer against him with a happy sigh.

“I’m so lucky to have you, (Y/N)”, he said, resting his forehead against yours. “I love you so much”.

“I love you too, Raph”, you smiled, pulling him in for a small sweet kiss. “All of you”.

[zepskies]

Smoke Eater - Part 5

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 5,000 Tags/Warnings: Fluff, house fire, perilous situations, angst, hurt/comfort 

Part 5: “Twitterpated”

“Hey there, beautiful,” Dean said.

His voice alone was enough to cause a shiver tingling down your spine.

You couldn’t help but giggle as he once again drew you into a kiss. He held you close by the waist. Feeling his hands spanning your lower back was doing things to you, but you knew you had to keep a level head here.

“Dean,” you said. Your lips curved against his. “We’ve said hello about three times now.”

“Wanna make it four?” he suggested. His voice was deep as sin.

Damn this man, you thought. He was a professional flirt.

But you laughed, and he smirked at the sound. He resisted letting you go when you playfully tried to pull away. The two of you were standing in the middle of your small office, in front of your desk at work. A large bag of takeout was perched on your desk, but neither of you cared about food just yet.

Dean liked the look of you in your navy blouse, tucked into a trim pair of pants, down to your smart heels.

“Tell me you didn’t go up all 20-something flights of stairs in those daggers you got on,” he remarked.

You followed his gaze down to your heels.

“Oh no,” you said. “I’ve got a backup pair of sneakers that I came to work in. Then I slip these on behind my desk. No one’s the wiser.”

Dean enjoyed that playful little smirk you gave him. He still couldn’t believe you’d walked all those stairs, but he guessed he couldn’t begrudge you for your lingering fear of elevators.

“Yeah? What else do you get up to behind that desk? Besides work, that is,” he teased. You guffawed and playfully hit his arm.

He chuckled and finally released you. You’d already dragged a spare chair next to yours behind your desk, so he began helping you unearth the various containers in the bag he brought. All the while, he surreptitiously took an inventory of your office.

It was all very neat and organized, just like you. You had a large window right behind you, which let in some much-needed natural light. There were tile floors, like the rest of the building, but while your desk was an old wood, clunky thing, you had a double monitor setup with an organized file system on either side.

As you pushed things aside and made room for the food, Dean noted the way stray pieces of hair fell from your clip, framing your face. He itched to take that clip out and make that hair wild, maybe even wrapping it around his hand.

Instead, he reached out and tucked a few strands behind your ear. It earned your attention with a soft blush.

“What?” you asked.

“Nothin’,” he grinned. He was treated to one of your shy smiles as you continued in your task.

Soon you and Dean were once again sharing good food and conversation. You explained what you did for work, being a Senior Sales Representative at Savage & Co. He listened, offering interjections here and there: gems like, Josh sounds like a fucking idiot. And, so does your boss. You couldn’t disagree.

In the back of your mind, it was still a bit strange for Dean to be in your office. It felt rather intimate for a second date, but you supposed coming to your place of work wasn’t so new to him.

“You sure are killing that chicken,” Dean remarked, as he watched you carve into a large drumstick with fork and knife. He shot you a teasing smile. “You know it’s already dead, right?”   

You gave him a dry look, despite your amusement. “I’m starving! All I’ve had today is a cup of coffee.” 

He frowned at that. “What, you can’t take a break for an egg McMuffin?”

“Ha!” you cracked, and took a sip of lemonade. “There are no breaks around here.”

Dean hummed, though you could see he didn’t like it.

“You sound like Sam,” he said.

“Oh, your brother?”

“Yeah, Mr. District Attorney,” Dean said in a mocking voice. But his smile betrayed his fondness, and his pride for his younger brother’s accomplishments.

You remembered then that Dean’s father was a police officer as well—a real life homicide detective! You ruminated on that when you and Dean moved on to dessert. You had a scoop of frozen yogurt, while he started to dig into a slice of blueberry pie.

“You know, it’s amazing to me that your entire family went into public service, from all angles,” you said. “It’s impressive…and really noble, actually.”

Dean offered you a quirk of a smile. It told you he wasn’t typically one to be comfortable with praise, as he carded a hand through his hair.

“Yeah, well. It’s a living,” was all he said.

You shook your head with a smile. His humility seemed genuine, and you found it endearing as hell.

“And you’re the eldest, right?” you asked. Dean nodded around a mouthful of pie. He set down the little tray between you for a moment.

“Yeah, though you wouldn’t know it looking at my brother. Around sixteen, he shot up like a damn weed. Friggin’ gigantor.”

You giggled at the image. Now you were truly intrigued, and hoped to meet both Sam and Dean’s father in the future. Though for right now, you glanced down at the slice of pie resting between you, all glossy blueberry filling and flaky crust.

You raised your cup of frozen yogurt to him. “Wanna try a bit of this, so I can try a bit of that?”

You went for a piece of pie with your fork, but Dean snatched the tray out of reach. He eyed you with a bit of admonishment.

“Hey, now. I got you your fake ice cream or whatever,” he said. You rose brow at him, both incredulous and amused.

“What, you won’t share with me?” you asked.

A smile twitched at his lips, but he stayed firm.

“Sweetheart, I’ll get you whatever you want, but here’s where I draw the line.”

You laughed in disbelief. But then an idea made your smile slide into flirtation. You set your dessert aside and rolled your chair closer to his. Dean watched you as your hand slid up his arm, and your pretty eyes met his.

“Okay, what if I make it worth your while?” you posed.

He tilted his head. His hand found the curve of your waist and slid around, bringing you even closer.

“Oh, yeah?” he challenged. “If you really want my pie, that’s gotta be damn worth it.”

Another giggle bubbled in your throat, but you continued to play your part.

“I have a few ideas,” you said. Your fingers drew a path down his chest, over the soft gray Henley he wore. You could feel the warmth of his skin underneath, and the firmness of his body. His grip on your waist tightened a fraction.   

And he smirked. “Tell me…”

Your lips were a whisper from his. He smelled like spicy cologne and blueberries. Two of his fingers came to brush your hair away from your cheek…

But as usual, your boss had the absolute worst timing. The sound of your office door opening was like a gunshot ringing through the room, making you and Dean separate from one another with a jolt.

Nick Savage strode in without knocking, as he was wont to do. (No matter how many times you asked him not to.)

“Hey, what’s your progress on the Greenway account…oh,” said Nick, pausing where he stood.

He took note of Dean in the room and straightened his posture. His expression changed from its lazy gait, to a more tightened one. You swore you could spot a tinge of annoyance as well, like he was surprised that he hadn’t caught you alone in your office.

“I see I’m interrupting,” he said.

Holding in a sigh, you looked over at Dean and found him similarly assessing Nick.

“This is Dean. You might remember him from last week, when the elevator broke down. He’s one of the firefighters who got me out,” you said. Your hand fell on your companion’s arm. “Dean, this is—”

“Her boss,” Nick said. He seemed to lighten up and give Dean a smile, reaching over to shake the man’s hand. Dean obliged him.

“So I’ve heard,” he said. His tone was pleasant enough, but still more reserved.

Nick purposefully shifted his attention back to you.

“Report? Greenway account?” he repeated.

Your lips firmed into a line, though you slipped back into the professional patience you had to maintain at all times with this man.

“I’m still on my break, but I’ll have the report to you by end-of-day,” you said.

Nick tsked at you with a shrug. “How’re you gonna get that account locked down if you’re not trying to conference with Mr. Greenway? He’s headed to China in two hours.”

You had to reign in an annoyed tick in your brow. But you didn’t notice how Dean was watching the exchange between you and your boss with a thinly veiled frown.

“I’ve called three times, Nick. He’ll get back to me.”

“Hmm. I wonder if Josh is taking that same approach,” Nick wondered with mocking sincerity. “I’ll go ask him.”

He finally turned to leave, though he stopped short, giving Dean a lazy salute. “Nice to meet you…”

“Dean,” he reminded. 

“Right.” Nick slid a pointed finger your way. “Greenway. 2:00 p.m.”

You were silently simmering by the time your office door closed behind him. 

“Well, he’s a delight,” Dean remarked.  

“He’s a dick,” you huffed and tossed your napkin down. But you grabbed your desk phone to make a quick call—to Mr. Greenway.

Dean frowned, but he covered it up by wiping his mouth with a napkin, subtly clearing his throat.

“I should head out then, let you get back to work,” he said. 

His words made you pause. You had a reply ready on your tongue, that his suggestion was probably for the best.

But then you actually looked into his eyes. Guilt prickled in your chest as you realized what you were doing. Not only were you letting Nick get under your skin again, but here was a man who’d brought you lunch. Who was willing to sit in an uncomfortable chair to spend some time with you, and you were about to brush him off.

You hung up the phone without dialing. 

“No. I’m sorry. Stay, please,” you told him, and grabbed his arm to keep him in his seat. You pushed your desk phone away with your spare hand and gave Dean your full attention, along with a smile.

“Where were we?” you asked.

Finally, Dean’s reserved expression eased as he relaxed in his chair, and subtly leaned towards you. He thumbed at your cheek with a smirk.

“I don’t know, something about making it worth my while.”

You bit your lip on a deeper smile.

“Oh, yeah,” you nodded. You crossed the ever-closing distance to give Dean a proper kiss. Your hand found his cheek, and your thumb brushed back and forth across the stubble there. You tasted sweet, sweet pie on his lips. 

Even after you parted softly, Dean went back in for a second taste of you. This time it was deeper, as he angled into the kiss. He once again brought you close, just shy of dragging you into his lap.

His hand reached behind your head and succeeded in taking the clip out of your hair. He tossed it on your desk and sunk his hand into the soft strands while his lips continued to devour yours.

It was a small move, but you found it both soothing and exhilarating. You shuddered when you felt his fingers brush the back of your neck. It had you contemplating locking the door of your office and forgoing the rest of lunch…but your mind was competing with your heart, warning you to be cautious. To protect yourself. 

Really, you’d just met Dean. You had no idea what to expect here, even though your heart was tripping up over his slightest touch.

Still, your face was warm when you eventually parted from him. You chanced meeting his eyes, and you blushed further at what you saw.

The truth was, Dean had been contemplating laying you out flat across your desk. But he tried his best to keep it down to a simmer behind his eyes, a bright and gleaming green.

“Worth it?” you asked. Your voice was a mere whisper, despite your smile.

He returned it, and gave you one last kiss.

“So worth it,” he said. 

Dean wasn’t sure he liked this.

The start of his shift was usually the time for him to be relaxed, but focused. He knew who he was and what he needed to do when he entered the firehouse. It was his second home, perhaps even the place where he felt most comfortable.

And yet, he nearly burnt his hand while pouring himself a cup of coffee.

“Shit,” he muttered. He jolted and hopped back a step as scalding brown liquid splashed between his feet. It had Benny and Meg looking over from the common room, where they sat at the dining table.

Dean looked at the mess he created and tried not to sigh. He wasn’t awake enough for this…or maybe, he didn’t want to admit that he’d been thinking about you.

Your smile, your eyes, your voice, your occasional shyness, versus the way you dealt with your boss like a pro. Your confidence that was damn sexy, and had Dean imagining what you’d be like taking his orders, or giving them right back, shoving him down into a seat, straddling his thighs, his hands hiking up your skirt…

Dean shook his head a bit sharply to try and clear it.

He circled into the kitchen in need of a paper towel. But he bumped right into Jack, who was making breakfast. It sent the salt canister flying out of his hand and dumping into the pan of eggs.

“Oh, fuck. Sorry,” Dean said. He really did sigh this time. Now they’d have to wait even longer for breakfast.

“Uh, it’s okay. I can save it,” Jack said, though his brows were furrowed as he contemplated just how he was going to do that. He took a wooden spoon and tried to scoop out the mound of salt on the still-sizzling eggs.

Meanwhile, Dean’s lips pursed as he went over to grab a few paper towels. Once the mess by the coffeemaker was clean, he poured himself a tall cup and took a seat between his friends. Benny shot him a glance as he sipped at his own mug.

“You all right, brother?” Benny asked.

“Just fine,” Dean replied. He tried to sound breezy, but neither Benny or Meg bought it. She eyed him with a smirk.

“Heard you went on a date the other night,” she said. “A real one, with chocolates and flowers and all that shit.”

Dean shot her a sharper frown. “Who the hell told…oh. Perfect. Goddamn it, Cas.”

He should’ve known that big-mouth bastard couldn’t be trusted.

“Nope,” Meg said. Her eyes were dancing mischievously, and Dean knew he was in for it this morning. “Your little girlfriend is best friends with my cousin.”

She tossed a sly look at Benny. “You remember Andréa. You two were sucking face hardcore the other night. And giving quite a show to the local pedestrians. Have you called her yet, by the way?”

Benny cleared his throat, but he looked both unrepentant and tight-lipped about his business as he stayed sipping his coffee. Dean shot him a smirk. Until Meg directed her cutting gaze back to him.

“And you,” she said, just as slyly. “Dating your own damsel in distress. How fucking predictable.”

Dean’s lips firmed into a line, while Benny’s brows shot up.

“You really went for it with Elevator Girl?” he remarked in surprise. “I saw you two talkin’, but didn’t think you’d pulled the trigger.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “All right, first of all, let’s stop calling her ‘Elevator Girl.’ She’s got a name.”

Once he’d told them your name, however, their smiles deepened. And Dean knew it was about to be a long shift.

“Ooh, he’s got it bad, bad,” Benny shook his head.

Meg made a “cute” face at him and reached out to shake Dean’s chin, smirking when he slapped her hand away.

“Look at him, all twitterpated,” she teased.

“I’m fine,” Dean all but gritted out. 

Benny chuckled, but truthfully, he was happy for his friend. It seemed the time had finally come when Dean Winchester was hooked on a nice girl. Hopefully one he intended to keep seeing.

“If it’s that serious, you should bring her by the Roadhouse again,” Benny said.

Dean snorted into his coffee. “Yeah, like I’d want to subject her to you degenerate clowns.”

“Well, if you expect to keep it going with this girl, she’s gotta meet us eventually,” Meg pointed out. Dean shot her a look.

“Oh, she’s definitely not meetin’ you,” he said.

Meg’s brows knit together. “What? I’m perfectly pleasant.”

Before Dean could utter a retort, a familiar alarm bell tolled on the intercom speakers. There was a working house fire over in Bellmont—the wealthier part of town. Truck 79 and Rescue Squad 5 were called, along with Ambulance 7.

All hands on deck.

“Okay, Jack. You’re staying on my ass once we get in there. You got it?” Dean told the Candidate.

“Yes, Lieutenant,” Jack agreed. It was only his second real fire since he joined Firehouse 25.

By now the team was in full gear, with jackets and helmets and belts. The Chief, Bobby Singer, was at the helm. He and Dean shared a nod.

“All right, Dean. Head in. Lafitte and Ramirez will vent the roof,” he said. 

Dean nodded again. “You got it, Chief.”

While two of his team got the firehose ready, Dean fitted his mask over his face. Already the fire was at a full blaze. They had a limited time before the fire grew too wild to safely maneuver. They’d know when the flames started smoking black. The Chief would let them know on their walkie talkies, and Dean would have to pull his team out.

But first, there was a family of four trapped inside the large two-story house. He fully intended to get every single one of them out.

Thanks to the mask, he could hear his own deep breaths in his ears as he entered the house. A quick look back confirmed that Jack was on his heels, and Gordon was right behind him.

“Okay, clear each room. I’m going right, through the kitchen,” Dean called out the order.

“I’ll take left through the living room,” Gordon replied.

Dean shot a thumbs up. “Copy that.”

Then they got to work.

The flames were high and eating up the walls of what would’ve been a pristine open kitchen. The room was clear, so Jack and Dean kept moving forward until they reached a long hall. They had to hasten single file until Dean opened up the first bedroom with his crowbar.

“Fire Department, call out!” he shouted.

He didn’t hear anything, but that didn’t mean the room was clear. It was a child’s room, a girl if he had to guess. There were stuffed animals strewn across an unmade bed with pink bedsheets. He checked the closet while Jack looked under the bed. Neither man found anything.

“All right, moving on. First bedroom clear,” Dean said into his walkie talkie. “Going upstairs next.”

“Master bedroom clear,” Gordon commed in.

Jack and Dean continued to the second floor, where the flames were thickest. It was getting harder to see, and even harder to breathe, despite the mask.

“We’re almost outta time, fellas,” Bobby radioed.  

“Just a couple more rooms, Chief,” Dean responded. The first and second bathroom was clear, as was a linen closet in the hall. He had a feeling about this last room though.

He opened the door and nearly got a flaming piece of wall dropped on his head. He jumped back at the same time Jack helped pull him to safety.

Dean breathed deeply. He didn’t have time for thanks, but he reached back and pat Jack on the arm before he entered the bedroom. It was another child’s room, this time for a boy—with green walls, and a school uniform on the back of a chair.

“Fire Department!” he said, though it nearly died on his tongue at what he saw.

There in the far corner, on the other side of the twin bed, was a man kneeling on the floor. He was doing his best to cover his wife and kids. His back was charred beyond recognition.

Dean snapped to attention when he heard one of the kids whimper.

“Fire Department,” he repeated, as he rushed to them. He and Jack peeled the man off his family as carefully as he could. Dean hauled him onto his shoulder.

Meanwhile, the man’s wife was crying and holding her children as tight as possible: a boy that looked about 10 years old, and a young girl. The mother’s glassy eyes widened with hope when she saw Jack and Dean.

“We’re gonna get you out. Come on,” Dean reassured. His hand on her shoulder was both supportive and urging her up onto her feet. Jack helped get her kids up as well.

Gordon joined them as soon as they were out of the room. He picked up the boy while Jack carried the little girl, and Dean had an arm wrapped around the mother while he still carried the father on his shoulder. 

They made it out of the house just before the ceiling started to cave in at the doorway.

Meg and Chuck were waiting for them with a gurney, where Dean carefully laid down the man he carried. His wife hovered close with her kids as Meg began calling out instructions to her partner, trying to take the man’s vitals, all while they wheeled him towards the ambulance.

Just before they would’ve brought him up into the ambo, Meg halted them with a hand. Her other gloved hand was poised at the man’s wrist. She listened closely for a few more seconds in concentration…

And she sighed through her nose. She removed her stethoscope and met the wife’s eyes.

“I’m sorry. He’s gone.”

Dean’s heart fell into his stomach, but he held the woman as she fell apart. Jack and Gordon did the same for the kids. Behind them, the rest of the team were dousing the flames and black smoke consuming the house with the firehose. Chief Singer let out a heavy breath, but he continued issuing orders as needed.

Dean stared at the pale, soot-stained face of the man he’d failed to save. The woman’s cries rang in his ears, and he continued to support her as she fell to her knees and gathered her children close.

He understood their pain.

Not for the first time, he wondered what his father must’ve felt…the day his mother died.

Dean was a seasoned firefighter. He’d seen enough of the horrors this world could produce, and he had an internal catalogue of shit he’d rather forget. But he knew, as he later got back onto the truck for the long ride back to the firehouse.

He knew this day would be another one to be imprinted on his memory.

“You’re quiet,” Sam noted. He ate dinner in relative silence with his brother, in the apartment they shared. Dean met Sam’s eyes.

“Long day,” Dean eventually said.

Sam didn’t like the sound of that. Before he could probe further, Dean’s phone vibrated on the small dining table.

Dean slowly reached for his phone and saw the new text message, from you.

Hey, thanks again for lunch yesterday. Hope I get to see you again soon. ❤️

It briefly lightened him, almost bringing a smile to his face.

It soon fell, even though his thumb hovered over the keyboard to reply. His mind was blank. Right now, he couldn’t think of a damn thing flirtatious, or charming, or even human enough to say to you.

“Dean,” Sam said, earning his attention. “What’s wrong?”

Again, Dean hesitated. He blew out a slow, heavy breath and sat back in his seat. He ran his fingers roughly through his hair as he thought and thought.

But if anyone might’ve understood where his head was at, it was his brother.

“What do you think would’ve happened if Mom had made it out of the fire, instead of Dad?” Dean asked.

To say that question shocked Sam would be an understatement. Yet to his credit, Sam internalized most of his reaction. He tilted his head as his brows furrowed.

“I don’t know,” he replied honestly. Dean’s question was impossible for his mind to even wrap around; mostly because he never got the chance to meet his mother. The house fire claimed their home when Sam was barely six months old.

All he knew was his father, and Dean.

Dean shook his head and wiped a hand over his mouth, an anxious gesture Sam knew well. 

“She would’ve been just as messed up at Dad, but…I don’t know. Ignore me. I don’t know what the fuck I’m saying.”

“What made you think about that?” Sam asked.

“Today,” Dean said. Though he paused, he managed to say it. “It was a house fire. A mom and two little kids, boy and girl. Their dad just laid over ‘em, took the brunt of it.”

“Jesus…he didn’t make it, did he?” Sam deduced, from Dean’s eyes and his tone. Dean shook his head slow. 

“I’ve seen a lot of shit, Sammy, but…”

This was why Sam worried about his brother. He admired the hell out of him, but he also worried. 

Sam had a ring in his nightstand. He’d picked it out last month. Part of him was hesitating to move forward, not because he thought his girlfriend of three years would say no to marrying him, but because he didn’t want his brother to be alone.

“You don’t have to look at me like that. I’m okay,” Dean said, levying him with a knowing look. His lips gave a wry turn. “Nothing a couple shots of Jameson won’t cure.”

Sam snorted. “Yeah, that’s what you need.”

“Right. Like I haven’t caught you up late with your mistress, Johnny Walker,” Dean tossed back.

Sam’s lips pursed, but the point was made. He spent his days putting murderers, drug dealers, rapists, and thieves on trial. Some days were darker and more unreal in their realism than others. And he could only burden Eileen so much.

Still, he didn’t like the look of Dean, who got up from the table and took his half-full plate of spaghetti to the sink.

Dean went up to his room and showered. He’d done so at the station, but showering was one of those methodical things he could do to try to ease his mind, besides working on his car. It provided an alternative to drinking. 

But it didn’t work this time, as he knew it wouldn’t. He lied in bed after getting dressed, just staring up at the ceiling. 

He checked his phone and saw your text, still waiting on an answer. He hesitated…but his thumb hovered over your name. He called you instead.  

“Hey,” your soft voice greeted him. You sounded surprised to get his call, but also a little sleepy, like you were on the verge of going down for the night.

“Hey, yourself,” Dean said. “Sorry, were you about to get to sleep?”

“No, I’m awake. What’re you up to?”

“I’m home. Been a long day,” he admitted. 

“Yeah?” you asked. “Dean, are you okay?”

He heard the perceptive shift in your tone. Against his best efforts, he should’ve known you would pick up on the threads of his mood. But he smiled at the sincerity in your voice. True concern. 

“Yeah. I’m good, sweetheart. How’re you?”

“Uh-uh. Not so fast,” you replied. “…Did something happen at work today?”

He sighed. “Yeah, but uh…we don’t need to get into it. It’s okay.”

“You sure?” you asked. “I’m a good listener.”

“That you are,” he said, with a deeper smile. “You know what’ll help me?”

“What’s that?”

“Tell me, how bad did you wanna knuckle-dunk your boss’s teeth in today?” 

“Oh my God. On a scale of 1 to 10?”

“Lay it on me.”

“20,” you replied. “You met him, so now I can tell you without exaggeration. He’s the Chief Asshat among asshats.”

Dean chuckled. It crinkled the corners of his eyes.

“What’d he do this time?”

You explained your latest frustrations. Then you continued to make him laugh with all the creative ways you’d imagined ending your boss for his dickish behavior, demanding reports, pitting you against your coworkers, being a general pain in the ass. 

The rusty can opener in the break lounge was Dean’s personal favorite. 

Hearing about your day, and the colorful adjectives you used, managed to lighten him. For a little while, it even took his mind off his troubles. And you admitted that venting to him about your violent fantasies was its own form of therapy. 

“Damn, do I gotta worry about you?” Dean teased. 

“Only if you get on my bad side, Lieutenant,” you said. Your voice was nearly a purr.

It had him smirking, with a tendril of heat lacing down the back of his neck. 

“All right, then. I promise I won’t make it a habit,” he said. “Gotta keep you nice and sweet for me.” 

You laughed then, in a way that had him imagining your pretty smile. 

He ended up talking with you about everything and nothing, well into the night.

AN: 🥹 *sighs* Anywho, I know this chapter was a little shorter than usual, but I hope you got a kick out of Dean's first meeting with Nick. And we got a snapshot of an unfortunate "bad day" at the firehouse.

In Part 6, we'll get deeper into the murder mystery, along with a taste of jealousy...

Next Time:

“Uh, no, that’s okay,” you said. “I’m waiting for someone.”

“What?” Gordon asked.

It was getting busy in the bar, making it loud enough that you could understand why he hadn’t heard you. You leaned over towards his ear.

“I’m good for now, thanks,” you said, raising your voice a bit. Gordon leaned in even closer and chanced resting a hand above your knee.

“You sure?” he asked. He gave you a smile that was all smooth sex appeal and confidence, without being arrogant. It was undoubtedly attractive, but you were more shocked than charmed in your blush.

You instinctively leaned back when you felt his hand on your thigh.

Keep Reading: PART 6

Dean Winchester Masterlist

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[messylustt]

murderous — ethan landry + reader ( scream ) : he tried to get you out of the city, but it’s too late…

contents : reader death. blood and violence. angry ethan. quinn being a bitch. wc 1.2k

You watch in horror as a friend you’d grown close to over the past year take off his Ghostface mask. Ethan Landry stares back at you, cold. But inside he’s burning. He had tried to get you out of the city, dropping subtle hints, but nothing seemed to work. He hadn’t wanted you to get caught up in his family’s revenge plan.

But here you were, eyes wide, with blood trickling down your forehead. Ethan hissed at Quinn. “You said you’d leave her alone.”

Quinn tilts her head, mockingly pouting. “Did I?”

“Yeah, you fucking did.” Ethan leers at Quinn, but detective Bailey intercepts. “That’s enough.”

Your backed up beside Tara and Sam, huddling protectively as your heart sank to the floor. Of course Ethan was Ghostface, how could you be so stupid to befriend him? You hadn’t known, but you should’ve. Never trust anyone.

Ethan looks back to you, suddenly feeling sick. His stomach hadn’t churned when he repeatedly stabbed Chad in the chest and stomach not mere moments ago. But your shaky breathes and betrayed gaze penetrates him more than any of his killings ever could.

He liked you. He liked being around you, talking to you. And now you hated him. You’d never be close to him again. Because now you could die. Ethan sucks in a breath, his grip on his knife tightening.

“Stop being so pussy whipped Ethan, and stab the bitch.” Quinn exasperates. Ethan shoots her a glare, wanting to stab her instead.

“Oh, shut up Quinn.” Ethan had never felt so angry—at everyone. All except you. He hated Sam and Tara for killing his brother. He hated his dad and sister for dragging you into this mess. But he could never hate you, with your sweet words and smiling face.

But you weren’t smiling, and he’d never hear that sugary tone again. Because now your shooting daggers at him, your stages of grief reaching mad.

You and the Carpenter sisters are holding bricks, prepared as weapons if any one of the fucked up family members decides to attack.

“Stay the fuck back!” Sam exclaims, gripping the brick tighter.

Quinn jumps at Sam swiping her knife across her upper arm. You jolt beside her, fear heavily prominent in your eyes.

Fuck, Ethan thinks. He didn’t like that expression. You were afraid…of him. God, no.

When your gazes met, you were gulping, praying to get away from here. Ethan was staring, unwaveringly focused. But when his dad began to speak explaining their plan he had to look away.

“…but of course my son had to make a friend. A real one.” Detective Bailey said, eyeing you. “He got too distracted, didn’t you, Ethan?” Bailey turns to Ethan waving his gun around.

Ethan ground his teeth, jaw tightening.

“And would you look at that?” Bailey continues watching Ethan. “He looks a little too effected, don’t you think?” He turns to Quinn who nods, a sadistic smile appearing on her face.

Bailey turns back to look at you. “We’ve come so far. It would be a shame for this to blow up just because Ethan’s young mind wandered.” Bailey pauses for a moment as your breath hitches. “So, I’m afraid this kills gonna have to be quick.”

He’s then aiming his gun at you and a bullet flies. Ethan doesn’t have time to react before it hits you. A wet patch begins to form on your sweatshirt as you touch your wound. You stumble back, choking, as you hear Sam and Tara rushing to you. Your hip hits one of the glass casings, before your sliding down to the floor.

Then you feel a hand cupping the back of your neck. Another holding you from falling more. Your coughing blood. Your eyes are slightly rolling as pain shoots through you.

Sam and Tara stare in equal fear and shock at Ethan who is holding onto you, pressing his own hand to your gushing wound. “No, no, no. Don’t you fucking— y/n.” He breathes, trying to tap your face to keep you from closing your eyes.

“Aw, I almost feel bad.” Quinn comments.

“Your a fucking bitch Quinn!” Ethan exclaims, red hot anger rolling off of him in waves. But it seems only Sam and Tara catch the desperation in his tone.

Ethan grabs your face. “Y/n stay the fuck awake.”

“Y-your a killer.” You choke out through your mouthful of blood.

“N-no. Y/n. I’m—” but he was. He wasn’t that delusional to think he wasn’t. “I’m sorry.” He decides on saying.

“No your not.”

“Yes I fucking am. But your not gonna die, you hear me?” Ethan breathes. He suddenly feels something on his shoulder. Whipping his head up he sees his dad, his gun tapping for his attention.

“Come on son, let her go. This is for the best.”

The best? The fucking best? Ethan lost it, grabbing his dads gun and tossing it aside. He swiftly stands and yanks hard on his collar, throwing him into one of the glass casings. Bailey is genuinely shocked as he gapes at his son.

“Listen, what are—” Bailey angrily tries but Ethan is quick to cut him off.

“No, you fucking listen!” He rages, holding his knife out. “I told you not to touch her! She wasn’t apart of the plan, she didn’t fucking need to be!”

“Our plan was to avenge your brother! Don’t give me this bullshit. She was apart of their so called friend group, so is automatically on our hit list!”

“Oh, I really don’t care dad. Kill the sisters.” Ethan gestures to Sam and Tara with his knife. “Do it. But don’t you think for one moment she is gonna die.” He gestures back to you.

Bailey follows the knife, stopping on you. But then a smile begins to form on the older man’s face making Ethan’s brows furrow.

“I think you may have to change your last statement, son.”

Ethan quickly looks to you and only sees a body. Your still, face drained of colour, and chest not moving. No. Ethan rushes over. No. Ethan taps your cheek. God, no. Ethan shakes you, gulping down the arising bile. Please.

Your cold, and when he feels your pulse, or where he should feel it, he freezes. He doesn’t think twice, his brain not being able to compute anything but rage. Any other emotion would break him.

He aims his knife straight into his dads chest, a satisfying squelching sound breaking the heavy breaths. Bailey screams, Ethan’s fast movements catching him off guard.

Quinn is rushing forward, but Ethan is twisting the knife, Baileys shirt and skin tearing as blood began to pool out. His screams reach Ethan’s ears only egging him on. He couldn’t feel anything but anger. Raw and murderous.

Quinn is trying to pull her dad away, before she tries to swipe at Ethan. “What the fuck are you doing?!” She exclaims.

But Ethan doesn’t stop ripping down baileys chest as he squirms. He can’t see him as his father anymore. He just took away the one thing that made him feel good.

When his knife dropped away, Detective Bailey fell to the ground, as Quinn quickly tried to aid him. This wasn’t supposed to happen, none of this was supposed to happen.

And when Ethan glanced back at your lifeless body, your last words swirling in his head (y-your a killer. I’m sorry. No your not), he almost felt bad for the people he was about to murder. You were right…he was a killer.

© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms.

[webslingingslasher]

thinking about trouble sitting in a table at the library with a bunch of books around her and peter goes up to her to say hi thinking she’s alone and then some dude pops up and sits down next to her (he’s her new study buddy) and peter is a bit dumbfounded and trouble introduces them like “this is mike my new study buddy, and this is peter my ex boyfriend” or something just to throw peter off or something when they’ve broken up

it's the perfect setup. back table, no surrounding neighbors, sitting alone, public place and somewhere you can't get loud. peter's got you all to himself and he's moving in fast.

he slows halfway through when a threat approaches. he's tall and lanky, and heading straight for you. not gonna happen, he thinks. peter slides up to the table the second the guy with a target on his back sits next to you.

'hello, trouble.'

'peter.' you see the daggers he's throwing your innocent partner, not that you need to, but you still give an explanation. 'peter, meet mike, my new study buddy. mike, meet peter, my ex.'

'the ex, huh?'

peter doesn't like the tilt, his eyes narrow in. 'that's not a permanent title, but yours is.' you stop him right in his tracks, your chair glides across the carpet and you've got a hand on peter's chest backing him up.

'nope, back it up, let's go, not gonna happen, no no.' peter's appeasing you and allowing you to walk him back but he keeps his eye on mike and clenches his fist at the small wave that was sent him.

'he's fucking with me, trouble. i don't like him.'

'thank you for the opinion. goodbye.'

'you're just gonna hangout with this guy all alone in a sectioned off part of the library?'

you let out a sigh, if you don't tell him, he'd turn it into something bigger than it needs to be. 'do not confuse this for a bonus point for you, but he's gay. if anything, he's told me how cute you are.'

peter glances behind you, mike's still looking at him. 'really?'

'yeah, so you don't have to worry about me being alone in-'

'i don't care about that. you said he thought i was cute?'

you squint at him. 'are you trying to tell me something?' peter scoffs at the implication. 'i'm not ethan, i've just never had a dude into me. it's kind of flattering. like, wow, look at me go, both sexes want me.'

you go monotone. 'i'm so glad it didn't go to your head.' peter nudges your arm, 'oh, it totally did. this is pure ego talking right now, baby.' he's having a little fun.

'should i go over there and say hi, maybe take off my hoodie for him? he could get a look at these spectacular muscles.'

you push his chest a little harder, this time you don't move with him. 'goodbye, peter.'

'i'll see you later, trouble. tell my admirer i send kisses.'

you repeat yourself, peter finds your annoyance entertaining. 'goodbye, peter.'

'don't get jealous, i also send you kisses. unless you want the real thing...'

'goodbye, peter.' 

[boyfriendstevie]

No because the way Steve would get soooo smug if Robin had the hots for his girl. So much for teasing him and calling him names when he’s the one to see your boobs every day 😮‍💨

has this... become my niche? i'm not mad abt it as a bisexual girly who's in love w both of them lol

-

Oh he’d be sooooo smug. He’d tease her about it every chance he got. He knows it’s not anything real, that Robin just thinks you’re hot, and he’s inclined to agree. Of course his girl is stunningly beautiful and sexy, and he’s definitely going to rub it in Robin’s face. 

You’re heading to a fancy event or maybe just a night out so you’re all kind of dressed up, and Robin and Steve are waiting for you to finish up. When you walk out to the living room, both of their jaws drop. You’ve got on something with a plunging neckline and a slit up your leg, and the fabric is accentuating all the right curves and you feel hot. Clearly, you look hot, too, if their reactions are anything to go by. 

Steve whistles appreciatively and holds his hand out for you to take, “Well, look at you, pretty baby. Stunning, and so sexy.” He twirls you around once you take his hand, making you giggle, his eyes scanning your body as you turn. “Christ, sweetheart, y’gonna kill me. Robin, too.”

Robin, bless her heart, is standing there silently, mouth still open as she watches you turn. Steve takes notice of his best friend, how stunned she seems to be by your appearance, and nudges Robin’s side with his elbow, “Doesn’t she look gorgeous, Robs?”

The nudge finally gets her attention and she blinks, coughing to clear her throat, “Oh, yep, definitely. Y’look… look really good.” If she thinks she’s being inconspicuous with how she’s staring at you, she’s sorely mistaken — her eyes trail up your body, darting from the slit exposing your thigh, to your chest. “That’s definitely— definitely a nice dress!” 

“Thanks, Robin,” you giggle in reply as you loop your arm through Steve’s, “You look really nice, too.” 

She flushes instantly, face warm and pink behind her bangs. She giggles nervously, tucking her hair behind her ear, and then untucking it as she murmurs her thanks. Steve knows this move; she’s nervous from the attention of a beautiful girl. He’ll definitely have to tease her about it later. 

“Oh!” you exclaim suddenly, freeing yourself from Steve’s grasp, “I almost forgot… can one of you finish zipping this up? I couldn’t get it all the way.” 

“I was just about to go start the car… Robin, you can help, right?” Steve asks, throwing his best friend a wink as he grabs his keys and heads towards the door. He knows it’ll send her into full gay panic mode, but it’ll be good for her, right? And yeah, she sends him daggers as he slips out the door, but she manages to help with only mildly shaky hands and a blush that won’t leave her cheeks. 

[sailor-aviator]

which of the daggers would have a partner with swamp girl/bog witch energy? like they're just so fucking weird it's endearing y'know

KARA OMG

This one is gonna be so self indulgent lmaooooo

“She’s kind of cute in a sort of weird, endearing kind of way,” Phoenix says, recounting the encounter she had with one of Vice Admiral Simpson’s new assistant. “Have you seen her space in the office? She’s got weird, little cryptic plushies and like ten thousand of these little pens.”

“I swear I saw her pull out some tarot cards when I was in there the other day,” Fanboy chimes in, earning a snort from Payback.

“I bet she’s a real freak in the sheets,” Rooster smirks, sipping at his beer. “Wonder if she’d say yes if I asked her out.”

“Really, Bradshaw?” Phoenix scowled, crossing her arms. “Poor girl’s only been here a week. At least let her settle in enough to hang some work experience before you scare her off.”

“From the way you make it sound, nothing’s gonna scare her off.”

Phoenix goes to reply, but stops short as she catches sight of something…odd.

Hangman has just strolled in, his usual cocky smirk on his face, but that’s not what was odd. No, it was you, the new assistant, tucked into his side with the blond’s arm thrown around your shoulder that had her speechless.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Payback mutters with a shake of his head as everyone else turns to see what’s going on. Jake spots them, pulling you along across the bar and grabbing a chair for you before leaning against the counter.

“Even in’, everyone,” he drawls, eyes alight as he looks around at everyone.

“Aren’t you going to introduce us to your…friend?” Bob asks, glancing at you briefly before back at Jake. Coyote is hiding his grin behind his bottle, having known the whole time as to who you were.

“Boys, Phoenix,” Jake smirks, gesturing towards you as his eyes soften. “This here is my girl.”

You give them your name with a grin, saluting as you did so.

“Cryptids, huh?” Rooster asks, eyeing the T-shirt you wore. Your eyes sparkle with excitement, and Jake already feels lovesick at the sight of you.

“Yeah!” You exclaim, already bouncing in your seat. “They’re so cool! You know, they just found some new evidence that Bigfoot’s been roaming around the Ozarks…”

And as you continue on your spiel, Jake swears he’s the luckiest man in the world.

Send me a scenario and I’ll assign a Dagger!