#it doesn’t work exactly but still! it’s what got me

[fastandcarlos]

Not Without You : ̗̀➛ Carlos Sainz

summary: filled with alcohol, carlos could almost fall asleep, but there's one very important thing that's missing for him

Your head shook as you walked into the apartment, kicking Carlos’ shoes out of the way that he had left in the middle of the hallway. You want to be mad at him, but you can’t, placing them out of the way. There’s a faint light coming from the living room as you walk in, noticing a figure laid out across the sofa.

“Damn Carlos,” you snigger underneath your breath, placing your phone down before walking over to him. You knelt down just beside his head, brushing the hair out of his face. The smell of beer hit you as soon as you got close to him, the sign of a good night for Carlos as he went out drinking with a few of his friends. He was fast asleep, chest pressed into the sofa, completely unaware of you.

His keys and his phone had been discarded on the floor in his sleepy, tipsy state, which you quickly picked up and put on the coffee table to keep them safe. His shirt had a slight stain on it, knowing how incapable Carlos was at eating anything once he had just a single drink inside of him.

Your attention then turned to the man before you, lips parted, hands tucked in slightly to the sleeves of his jumper, feeling your heart pound with the adoration you had for Carlos hitting you hard. Your hand moved across his cheek, feeling his stubble tickle against the pad of your thumb as you try your best not to disturb him.

However, as you go to press a kiss to the top of his head before leaving him to rest, you end up doing exactly what you had tried your best not to do. You hear your name followed by the feeling of a hand around your wrist to keep you.

“When did you get here?” Carlos groggily asks you, slowly opening his eyes and flinching at the light. “Have I been asleep for long?”

“It’s almost three, I can’t imagine you’ve been asleep for long looking at the state of you,” you teased, taking a seat just beside where Carlos laid on the sofa. “Looks like you and the boys all must’ve had a good time, I don’t think I even want to ask what you all got up to together.”

Carlos stretches his hand out, craving for the feeling of your own intertwined with his. You do as he requests, sniggering as he lazily moves, huffing in discomfort as he rolls to face you and be able to face you on his side.

“I had a much better time then you did at work I imagine, are you alright?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about me,” you smile, offering Carlos a reassuring look. Even tipsy, he still cares, it’s by far one of your favourite things about him. “Do you want me to let you go back to sleep for a bit?”

“No,” he immediately responded, tightening his grip on you slightly. “You’re not allowed to leave me, you can only kiss me.”

You did as Carlos asked, closing the distance between the two of you. Carlos’ free hand cupped against the side of your face to bring you in, keeping you in position. Your hands rested against his chest to steady yourself as you forgot about the taste of beer that lingered on his lips for a moment and instead focused on savouring the feeling of Carlos’ touch against your skin.

After a few moments Carlos pulls away, but doesn’t let you move too far away from him. “I can smell coffee on you baby.”

“And I can smell beer on you, so I guess we’re even,” you teased in reply, dreading to think how many coffees you’d had in order to keep yourself awake. “You should really get some sleep now Carlos, I’ll be through to join you shortly.”

“I’m not moving,” he huffed, folding his arms across his chest, tapping the tiny space beside him on the sofa, inviting you to join him.

“I’m going to sort myself out,” you told him again, pushing yourself up off of the ground, using the sofa to help you. Once again, Carlos’ hand reaches out for you, but this time he’s not quick enough, reluctantly watching you walk away and head into the bathroom so you could sort yourself out and get into your cosy bed.

You were lost in your own little world as you started to get yourself ready for bed, you had a makeup wipe in hand, hair tied back as you wiped away the effects of the day. It almost didn’t seem fair how Carlos was awake after a night of fun with his friends, whilst you returned home off the back of a twelve hour shift, barely able to move anymore.

Once everything was sorted, you tidied up the bathroom, and the mess that Carlos had left in there too after he arrived home. You were ready to sleep, and for a long time too, safe in the knowledge that you’d have the bed to yourself tonight, with Carlos stubbornly unwilling to pry himself off of the sofa.

Or so you thought, as you opened the door.

“What the hell Carlos?”

Your hand grabbed onto the bathroom door in order to steady yourself, heart racing at the sight of the figure who stood as close to the doorway as he possibly could. There was a weak smile on his face as he looked blankly back at you, not realising just how much he had managed to scare you.

You reached out and pushed gently against Carlos’ chest, “what happened to not moving off of the sofa, you gave me such a fright.”

You wanted to yell and shout, but Carlos’ exhausted eyes soon stopped you. He leant against the doorway, too tired to find the strength in his legs to keep himself upright. You could only shake your head as he frowned at you, surprised you weren’t expecting him to have moved when you went away.

“The sofa was nice, but it’s not as nice as being able to lay in bed with you,” he softly speaks, keeping his voice as convincing as he can. “It’s not the same without you baby.”

You were left stunned by Carlos’ sudden confession, despite how drunk he was, you could tell by his voice just how much he meant exactly what he was saying to you, there was no doubt in your mind that he really wanted to sleep with you.

The two of you had so many moments when you were apart, that Carlos always promised himself to make the most of the ones when you were together. He made the most of every second, and made sure that every second was spent with his full attention on you. You often reassured Carlos that you understood the demand of his job, but he never took it for granted. He’d trained himself, no matter how tired, drunk or stressed he was to make sure that he still made the most of having you there with him. You never expected any of it from Carlos, and he never expected anything in return for the kindness that he showed you too, it was all that Carlos just wanted to do for you. The little moments were the ones that he treasured the most, particularly when he was able to fall asleep with you.

The closeness that you shared was the envy of others, they wished they could be as tentative and selfless as Carlos, or as sympathetic as you were. You both sacrificed a lot to make your relationship work, but the rewards at the end of it always proved to be more than worth it.

“You didn’t really want to get up, did you?” You asked as you took a hold of Carlos’ hand to help him to steady himself.

“You weren’t there,” he protested, shrugging his shoulders back at you, expecting you to be able to figure that out yourself. “There was just this cold, empty space beside me that some mean woman decided to ignore rather than cuddle up with me in.”

You had to give Carlos credit, if he was good at one thing, it was his ability to try and guilt you in order to get his own way. He knew exactly what to say to get you to do as he wanted, which was why he couldn’t help but smile when he found himself sat on the edge of your bed, watching as you looked through your drawers to try and find yourself a fresh pair of pyjamas to wear.

He’s lost in a moment of disbelief as he studies you, asking the same questions that he’s been asking for years, wondering if maybe today would finally give him the answer. How did he get so lucky? When did life get so perfect? What was it about him that drew you in and made you decide Carlos was your forever?

The click of fingers in front of his face snapped Carlos back into his reality, feeling the bed dip beside him. Your hand rested against Carlos’ thigh, squeezing against it gently. He responds by throwing his arm over your shoulders, pulling you down so that you’re both laid in the middle of your bed.

“Did you like what you saw there Sainz?” You enquired, referring back to you changing in front of him a few moments ago. There were no words, but as his smile slightly turned up, you knew exactly what Carlos was trying to tell you. “Come on, I think the both of us are on the verge of being overtired now.”

“Much better,” Carlos whispered to himself as the two of you pushed up and then pulled the duvet over you both. He could hear your giggles, unaware that you heard him, but with how drunk he was, nothing that Carlos did was quiet.

“You’re going to be such a giant pain in the morning,” you huffed as you watched Carlos relax as soon as his head hit the pillow. “You and hangovers are never a good combination for me.”

You knew all too well that Carlos was never going to remember any of this in the morning, if you told him how clingy he was or how needy he was for you to share the bed with him, he never would believe you. He could never imagine himself being so embarrassing, refusing to take on the role of soppy, emotional boyfriend.

After making himself comfortable, Carlos’ complete attention turned to you. His grip on you was incredibly strong as he pulled you into his hold, tying his legs in with your own. You were much colder than he was, still recovering from the chill in the air as you returned home, leaving Carlos running his hands along your body in order to try and warm you up a little bit.

“You’re not allowed to move for the rest of the night,” Carlos told you as he pressed a lazy kiss against the top of your head, “you’re mine forever now.”

“I don’t think I’d be able to escape even if I tried,” you joked, barely able to move in amongst Carlos’ tight embrace.

“I love you.”

“Carlos,” you whispered, resting your head against his chest. “I love you too,” you smiled, pausing for a moment to make sure that he was listening, wondering what world he was daydreaming in beside you. You still knew he wouldn’t remember what you had said, but the two of you had always promised that if one of you said ‘I love you,’ then the other always said it back.

“Be quiet now, it’s sleep time.”

You scoffed at how quick he was to shut you down, as if you had not been the one trying to get him to sleep half an hour earlier. How he’d finally decided it was time for him to sleep so now that meant that you had to be the one to go to sleep too. You could only shake your head, but seeing as Carlos had decided it was time to sleep, having not listened to you, you decided to test his boundaries.

“Do you really want to sleep now?” You asked, moving your hand down Carlos’ chest so that it settled just above his waistband.

You could feel his body tense up, he wasn’t drunk enough to miss what you were implying. “You said that I stunk of beer earlier.”

“And you said I stank of coffee,” you reminded him, propping yourself up to get a better look at him. “But I guess if I smell of coffee then you’ll just want me to move my hand back up here, won’t you?”

Carlos’ head shook as your eyes looked at him expectedly, “please don’t do this to me, it’s not fair baby.”

Before you know it, a pair of hands grip at your waist and turn you over so that Carlos is now the one hovering over the top of you. A shiver run downs your spine at how close he lays to you, not expecting Carlos to get so close. He can’t help it though, you’re like a magnet pulling him in, and the second that you drop the hint, he’s there and desperate to make the most of the situation.

“Carlos…please.”

It never fails to make him smile when he hears you whisper his name, followed by a shaky breath. He leans down and presses a kiss against your lips, capturing your bottom lip between his teeth. He tugs lightly, feeling your hands hold against his waist to try and pull him even closer towards him. Once you’re happy with where he is, you grab at the hem of his shirt and begin to lift it up, your kiss broken momentarily so that you could discard it to your bedroom floor.

“I love you,” Carlos repeats again, meeting your eyes as he pulls away from you.

You nod back at him, admiring the fiery passion that’s staring down at you. “I love you more,” you smirked, “why don’t you let me show you just how much I love you?”

“Baby…I am all yours.”

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[reidsdimples]

Testing the limits

Hard Dom Spencer Reid x Wife!Reader

18+❤️‍🔥 MDNI ‼️

Saw someone say they needed a mocking Spence saying”aw you just want me to give you some attention” and came up with this 🥵

You cross a line in an attempt to get Spencer’s attention.

TW: Hard Dom Spencer, choking, squirting, restraints

You pace back and forth in front of the door to Spencer’s home office. He had been in there for four hours at this point. After working a full day! It was admirable, his work ethic. But often left you feeling neglected.

An hour ago you knocked and he said “just a minute.”

You knew he wouldn’t be out in a minute. You also you knew you weren’t to go into his office. Something about the classified files in there and what not.

You push the door open to see him with his face still in a file at his desk. He didn’t even look up at you.

“I need more time,” he said dismissively.

It had been exactly 15 days since he touched you. Eight of which he was gone on a work trip, the rest were like this. Home but now home.

You knew what marrying him entailed but times like this when you got so wound tight, it was hard.

“Spencer,” you whine and stomp your foot.

He glanced up from the file briefly to see you standing there in one of his shirts with the buttons open and a thong.

“My love I have to get this done,” he asserts.

You pad away. You needed another plan. You would get him tonight before he worked so hard he fell asleep without so much as a word to you.

For a while you make considerable effort to stomp around upstairs above him, to clash pans in the kitchen, and blast music to get him to at least acknowledge you.

Finally you make a decision. You look back into his office to see him pacing behind his desk, on a phone call. Hotch from the sound of it.

You had a feeling that what you were about to do would get you punished. But you would take a punishment over the absence of him. Seriously, you were so pent up that the mere friction from your panties could make you moan.

He doesn’t see you stroll into his office as his back is turned. You pluck the three files off of the desk and make a break for it. He hears you scurry away.

“Hotch let me call you back,” you hear him throw the phone on his desk.

You make it upstairs and hide the files in a bookshelf in the library before running to your bedroom.

“Y/N you know better,” he calls as he approaches the bedroom.

Your heart hammers, you bite into your lip and pull yourself further under the bed. Excitement courses through you as you see his converse enter the room.

“Poor thing, so desperate for attention,” he mocks and circles the bed. “Pretty girl, I can hear you breathing,” he tutts.

When he reaches one side of the bed you scramble out of the opposite side. He takes long strides to the bedroom door and slams it closed before you reach it.

He was pissed, but he looked so fucking good. The top two buttons of his purple shirt were undone, it was only partially tucked now, and his hair was a mess. His eyes trailed over your mostly naked body as he chewed on his lip.

“So attention starved?” He steps slowly towards you. His deft fingers start to undo his belt buckle causing your cheeks to heat.

“Answer me,” he snaps the belt out from around his waist in a swift motion. You swallow hard.

“I missed you,” you look at him with wide eyes.

“‘I missed you,’” he mocks with a laugh as he shakes his head.

Oh yeah, you had crossed a line.

“Where are the files?” He folds the belt in his strong hands. You shake your head ‘no’ and don’t break eye contact with him.

One thing most people don’t expect about Spencer, is for him to have extremely refined needs sexually. He’s a sadist. You can see his heart rate increasing in his throat as you defy him.

He needs to inflict pain on you, for pleasure of course. You work well with him because you can take anything he dishes out. You get off on the pain, on watching him find pure elation in hurting you.

“You don’t scare me,” you huff, deciding to full send since he’s so far gone now.

You dart for the bathroom which is joined to another room entirely. The room you wanted him in the most.

You hear his calm and collected footsteps enter the room where you keep all of the toys for moments like this. He grabs you by the back of your neck and turns you towards him. You can’t help but laugh.

“I see now. It’s not just my wife that misses me, but my little whore,” he brings the belt down and it clashes with the backs of your bare thighs. You yelp and he pushes you further into the room.

“I need you,” you whimper and look up at him through long eyelashes.

He grips your throat hard, sending pulsing need to your clit as he backs you up against a wall.

“Where are the files?” He asks again, his mouth near your ear now.

“Not until I get what I want,” you pout and reach for his crotch. He seizes your wrist and pins it to the wall.

“Fine,” he huffs.

He reaches upward and brings leather cuffs down which are suspended to the ceiling above.

He suspends you there, your ass just barely touching the cherry wood wall behind you. This room, all fine crafted wood, soft carpet, and many surfaces for fucking. You had designed it together. You loved it.

You watch him move over to a rack of toys and grab a spreader bar, ah shit.

He latches each side to your ankles and spreads you as wide as your legs will go. You’re barely on your tip toes now.

He slowly unbuttons his shirt as his eyes darken, you watch him shift into the headspace you want him in. A primal look in his eyes that makes your mouth drool.

His shirt falls free and his slacks hang low on his hips, giving you a view of his perfect body and his hard cock straining against his pants. You whimper but you can’t move.

He brandishes a wand with a wicked grin and turns it on.

He approaches you but he doesn’t touch you at all. He won’t give you the satisfaction after what you did. He brings the head of the vibrator wand to your pussy and presses hard. You let out a restrained moan and try to move but you can’t. The raw sensation overwhelming, and you can’t close your legs around it.

“Fuck!” You scream as your body starts to shake. “Please,” you’re begging him to touch you. You need him.

He shakes his head as he watches you take it, his mouth agape. Your climax is building, winding painfully tight in the pit of your stomach. Your moans turn to screams and then…

He pulls away. You deflate in the restraints and glare at him.

“Where are the files,” he demands.

Your body is on fire, shaking with need.

“You’re not cumming until I know,” he crosses his strong arms. You shake your head, stubbornly.

“Fine,” he brings his belt up and wraps it around your throat.

It’s loose at first, the belt buckle allowing it to act as a slip knot. The long part of the belt hangs down your back.

He yanks it hard and it tightens around your throat. You fucking love it, you struggle to breath until your vision darkens and the he releases it. You gasp for air just as he brings the wand back to your throbbing pussy.

“Please,” you howl and then he pushes the wand harder against you as he tightens the belt once more.

Again, you reach the precipice of your orgasm and he stops, allowing you to breathe too.

“Fuck, Spencer!” You grind out.

“That wasn’t a safe word. And I still don’t know where my files are. Tell me. I’ll make you cum like the slut you are if you just fess up,” he taunts as he drags the head of the vibrator over your nipples. Arousal drips down your thighs.

“The library, one of the bookshelves on the left,” you pant at hang your head.

He gives you a cocky grin but drops to his knees before you.

He kneels between your legs and stares into your eyes. Then he’s sliding his tongue into your cunt greedily until you’re crying out his name. You try to rock against him but the restraints give you no leverage.

He presses the wand against your clit as he angels himself better to tongue fuck your pussy.

“Fuck!” You scream which prompts him to grab the belt and tighten it.

The sensations are too much, too good. His face is buried in you, the belt chocking you, the wand massaging your clit… you can’t even see straight as you violently begin to shake.

You erupt and you know you’ve squirted. He releases the belt just as your vision blackens and allows you to scream. He discards the wand and grips your hips as he sucks on your pussy like it gives him life. Your cum is pouring down his chin and chest below you, making his skin glisten.

Fuck, he’s so beautiful.

You could never get enough of him.

“Such a good girl for me,” he kisses your forehead as he carries you to bed. “Rest now,” he whispers as he tucks you in.

You almost protest, wanting to have sex but your body is limp with exhaustion from the edging and the orgasm that followed.

He disappears to the library to retrieve the files and return to work.

[byoldervine]

Why No Writing Advice Seems To Work

There’s millions of tips out there for writers, but so much of it just doesn’t apply, and it often feels like nothing ever works because you have to wade through a million failures before you find a success. But why is that, exactly?

1. Implicit phasing. Seeking advice while in the drafting phase of your writing can be difficult when many popular tips are more important during the editing phase. It can build on perfectionism struggles that a lot of writers have, but a lot of people genuinely don’t realise that this advice will suit them better for editing rather than drafting. If it’s about improving what you’ve already got, or just improvements in general, don’t touch it until you’re editing; you can’t improve on something that doesn’t exist, so you’ll just be going over the same draft a gazillion times without making progress. What you need to look for are tips for brainstorming, getting out of a funk, etc

2. Concept to blueprint. For me, literal thinking has kept me from understanding a lot of writing advice and, even when I’ve got the gist of it, I struggle to figure out how to take it from a general phrase (e.g. “Show don’t tell”, “Make it a habit”) to something actionable that tells me what I need to do. If you’re misunderstanding what the advice is saying, or you don’t know what actions it’s implying that you take, of course it’s not going to be helpful. Sitting down and dedicating a minute or two to considering it can really help, and if you’re still unsure then always feel free to ask other writers; there’s bound to be others who were in the same boat that can share their own interpretations and the actions they took that helped them

3. Hobbyist approach. If you’re only writing for fun, and especially if you don’t consider yourself a ‘real writer’, it’s easy to think that some of the advice doesn’t apply to you. For me, I always thought that the whole “Write every day, make writing a habit” thing was just for people who were super serious about it or on a schedule, not for people who were just writing for fun and didn’t mind it taking forever. But after trying out NaNoWriMo, I realised I actually quite enjoy having a set routine that allows me to see consistent improvement, and even after NaNoWriMo I experimented to see how often I could write without it feeling more like a chore than a fun activity. It’s definitely worth it to at least try out tips that you think may not apply to a hobbyist just working for fun; sometimes you might learn something else about your writing style, even if the tip doesn’t work for you

4. Unique takes. Ultimately, we’re all different people with different experiences, habits, interests, styles, physical abilities and neurotypes; not everything will work for everyone. And that’s a good thing! Yes, it’s frustrating when we try a popular tip and it just doesn’t work for us like it does others, but that’s one more thing we know about ourselves and how we work, and maybe it’ll lead us to a new discovery that makes it easier going forward. If everyone was the same, all our writing would be the same, and that would be boring. You’ll stand out as a writer by working differently to achieve unique results. And if you find something that works for you, make sure you share it in case others benefit, too!

5. Customise. Finding your own tips and sharing them can lead others to you, and it all starts with experimentation; try new things, mix and match existing tips you’ve tried and figure out what can be adjusted to make your writing process better. I can’t keep to NaNoWriMo’s 1667 words per day demands, it’s too much work in too little time, but I can do 1000 words every week and be much more consistent than I used to be. Or maybe watching your word count all the time demotivates you? Try changing your measurement from X words to writing for Y amount of time - or you could even try both and say you’ll write for a max of Y minutes unless you can reach X amount of words beforehand. Even if it’s not something that was originally intended by the tip, can you find a way to customise it to work better for you?

[reigningqueenofwords]

You'll Be Back

Pairing: past Dean x Reader, Reader x Mitchell (OC) Word count: 2,651 Warnings: Physical abuse, mentions of verbal abuse Request:  @arrowenchantress could be like, husband does something stupid leading to reader and son moving in with Winchesters, Dean helps reader and son, reader reluctantly lets him back in, they start to fall in love, find out Dean started to have a crush on her after prom that’s why he was being so weird, then sweet and fluffy family together ending? 🤣 just a thought

Read on AO3

Part 2 of It’s Not Mine

You hung your head, letting out a sigh. “Babe, I can’t just tell Dean to stay away.” You told your husband. “I’m not rushing to be friends with him, but I won’t be rude.” Mitchell currently hated the idea of Dean being near Daniel. John had gotten hurt, and couldn’t work anymore. Dean moved back home and got a job. Which meant that when you brought Daniel to see your dad and John, you’d see Dean. 

“I just don’t like it.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Dean walked away from you when you were pregnant. Didn’t even come around to find out if the baby was his, and I don’t feel he deserves to be anywhere near him.” There was no way that he was backing down from this. 

“If Dean happens to be at John’s when I bring Danny over, then he’s there. It’s his house, too. He lives there. What, do you want me to tell him to get out of his own house when Danny sleeps over there?” Did he not see how wrong that was? “Danny loves those weekends at John’s.” 

Mitchell rolled his eyes. “I know he does, but I’m not comfortable about any of this.” 

You stared at him. “What’s this really about? It doesn’t make sense that you’re getting so annoyed about Dean possibly being around Danny. Is this because I didn’t change Danny’s name when we got married?” You asked.

“That doesn’t help matters any.” He shrugged. “You changed your name, but not his. Are you attached to it?” 

“You’re joking, right? I didn’t change it because I want that to be Danny’s choice when he’s older.” You defended yourself. “Nothing more.” 

“Are you sure you don’t still have feelings for Dean?” 

“Where did that even come from? We went to his senior prom as friends and slept together once. It’s not like we had an actual relationship.” He knew exactly what happened, so you couldn’t understand where this was coming from. 

Mitchell shook his head. “I don’t want him thinking that he can try anything with you when you’re near him. I don’t want to get told that you’ll be having another kid with him, especially when we haven’t even gotten to the point where we plan to have one.”

“Do you not trust me? We’ve been together 2 years, married for one of those.” Hearing him say this hurt you. You’d never given him any reason to not trust you. Then something clicked. You schooled your features. “Is this one of those things where the actual cheater is super worried about their partner cheating?” You asked calmly. When he looked away quickly, it was like a slap in the face. 

“We’re talking about you and him.” He pushed. 

“Don’t you dare try to get out of this.” You seethed, thankful Daniel was at your father’s. “Who is she?” You couldn’t believe this. “Mitchell…” 

He sagged. “Kendra.” He told you. 

“The Kendra you work with?” You asked, knowing exactly who she was. “How long has this been going on?!” How long had you been blind? How long had your husband been cheating on you? It felt like you could literally feel your heart breaking. What about you attracted men that would hurt you like this? 

“Almost a year and a half. She’s pregnant, and due in a month.” 

“Jesus Christ.” You blinked away the tears. You couldn’t believe this! 

When he saw you walking towards the backdoor, he looked confused. “Where are you going?” He asked, angry that you would walk away from him. 

“To get some fresh air. I want a divorce. I’ll talk to my dad about me staying with him when I go get Danny in the morning.” You sniffed. 

“Let’s talk about this.” He stopped you, gripping your arms. 

You tried to pull free. “You’re hurting me!” You were used to him calling you names, or making remarks, but he’d never put his hands on  you. “Mitchell!”

He glared at you. “Sit down, now. We can talk about this.” 

“No!” You snapped. The last thing that you wanted to do was sit down and talk to your husband about him cheating on you. His hand met your face, and you tasted blood. 

John was confused to see you calling him. Most of the time you just called to talk about Danny. “Hello.” He answered. 

“John?” You snuffed, making him sit up in bed. 

“Y/N? What happened? What’s going on?” He felt his heart hammering in his chest. 

“Can you come get me? I’d call my dad, but he’s got Danny.” You told him, your voice low. “Please?” 

You were breaking his heart. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Where’s Mitchell?" “He’s in the living room. I locked myself in the bathroom.” You explained quickly. “Use your spare key to get in.” You’d worry about getting your things while he was at work the next day. You and your son would not stay one more night in that house.

Dean was confused when he was woken up to thudding on the stairs. Getting up, he went to see John pulling on his boots. “Dad? What’s going on?” He yawned. 

“Y/N just called me in tears asking me to go get her. I’ll be back.” He told him, grabbing his coat and keys. 

It was like he got cold water dumped on him. “Wait, what?” He asked. “Is she okay? Is Danny okay?” 

“I don’t know, and he’s next door. Safe. Make a run to the store. Get her some fruit candy, some Sprite, and some wine. Moscato is her favorite.” With that, he rushed to his truck. That would keep Dean busy, and it would be something for you to have when you got that. Maybe help you relax a bit. 

Dean stood there, wondering what happened to you. Did you and Mitch have a fight? But why would you need John to go get you? Could you not drive? Shaking his head, he went to get dressed to get you what your dad suggested. Clearly John knew you well.

“Y/N?!” John called out, making you quickly unlock the door. Rushing out of your downstairs bathroom, you went right to him. Mitchell shot you a look as you hugged the older man. “Jesus, sweetheart.” He felt like either ripping Mitchell limb from limb or crying. 

“Can we just go?” You wanted out of that house. 

“Let’s go.” He put his arm around you gently. 

“You’ll be back.” Mitchell said, sipping a beer. 

“No, I won’t.” You said softly. “Thanks for coming, John.” You said once you were outside. 

John opened the truck door for you. “You’re welcome. I’m glad I could be there for you.” Once he was also in the truck, he waited until he was driving before talking again. “Has he ever hit you before?” He asked, hoping like hell you hadn’t been dealing with this for long. 

You shook your head. “No, tonights the first time. Usually it’s just name calling and stuff.” You gingerly wiped under your eyes. “He was pissed about me and Danny being near Dean. I couldn’t understand what his issue was, why he wouldn’t trust me.” You explained, heart breaking all over. “Turns out he’s been cheating for almost a year and a half, and she’s due with his baby next month.” You sobbed. “What is wrong with me that I attract men that will just break my heart?” 

His stomach sank. “There’s nothing wrong with you. Not a damn thing.” He said gently. “I’m not making excuses for Dean, either. I think he’s kicking himself for what he did and how he acted. Mitchell had us all fooled.” He had liked Mitchell. Thought he was a good guy, and was good for you and Danny. 

“Apparently Mitchell thinks I have feelings for Dean because Danny has his last name.” You leaned your head back and closed your eyes. “He couldn’t understand why I didn’t change Danny’s last name when I changed mine.” 

“Did he even ever ask to adopt Danny?” 

Sighing, you looked out the window. “No, he didn’t.” You were beyond thankful for that now. “At least Danny won’t ever see him again, and Danny is young enough that this won’t really effect him much. Or, I hope it won’t.”

“Kids are tough.” He assured you. “Dean was 4 when Mary died.” You knew who Mary was, but hadn’t heard all that much about her. Neither Dean nor John spoke of her that much, and you could understand why. “I did my best to raise those boys while mourning her. I made mistakes, which you know. You were there for some of them. And, even with Dean being an ass to you, he’s turned out okay.” He knew he wasn’t perfect, and never claimed to be. “Danny is young. And he has you as his mom. He’ll be okay.” 

You gave him a small smile. “We also have you, my dad, and Sam.” You didn’t want him to think he wasn’t having a positive impact on him. “We’re lucky.” Even if Sam was away at school, the pair of you were still friends. You texted, and often sent him pictures of Danny.

Dean was sitting in the dining room with a cup of coffee when he heard the front door open. He got up and rushed to the hall, stopping when he saw you. “Y/N…” 

“Hi, Dean.” You said awkwardly, slipping off your slippers. 

“What the hell happened?” He asked, moving closer to you. He could see the split lip, the start of a shiner, and some bruising on the side of your neck. “Who did this to you?” 

“Let’s get you a drink. I’ll talk to him.” John spoke up, not wanting you to have to repeat everything. “I had Dean get you some stuff while I was getting you.” He explained, leading you towards the kitchen. 

You nodded, following him. Sitting down, you watched him open a bottle of your favorite wine. “Thank you.” You said softly as you took the glass he handed you. 

After he slid a bag of your favorite candy to you, he went to tell Dean what happened in the living room. “Apparently, he thinks she has feelings for you because of Danny’s last name.” He sighed, running his hand over his face. “He didn’t like the idea of her and Danny near you. Didn’t trust her. Turns out he’s been cheating on her for almost a year and a half, and the other woman is pregnant. Due next month.” He shook his head. “They’ve only been together two years, married one.” 

Dean clenched his jaw. “Has he always beat her?” He asked. 

“No, tonight was the first time. He was verbally abusive, though.” He sat down, hanging his head. “I had no idea. She blames herself.” 

“What?” How could you blame yourself for your husband hitting you? 

“She asked me what was wrong with her that she attracts men that will break her heart.” He hoped that in time you’d heal, but he knew that would take time. “I’m just thankful Danny wasn’t home to see that. I don’t know if he heard the things Mitch said to her, though.” He hoped like hell he hadn’t. 

Dean felt sick. He was part of the reason you blamed yourself. He didn’t think you’d want to see him right then, so he sat on the couch and leaned back. “I’m glad she had you to call.”

“Me, too.” He nodded a bit. 

Hearing movement, they looked over. “Do you mind if I take a shower before crawling into Danny’s bed?” You asked, wanting to wash that night off of you. 

“Of course.” John agreed. 

“Do you want a pair of my sweats and a shirt to sleep in?” Dean offered. “This way you can be comfortable?” You were in jeans, and knew from experience those weren’t the best to sleep in.” 

You thought about it for a moment. “Sure. I plan to go mine and Danny’s things tomorrow. I’ll wash your shirt and sweats to give back when we get back to my dad’s.” 

“Want me to go with you, sweetheart?” John offered. “In case he’s there?” 

“He has work tomorrow, but I think I’d feel safer that way.” Like you’d turn down having a bodyguard as a just in case. “Go about lunch time? He usually has to be in about 10 in the morning.” It rarely changed. 

Dean handed you the softest sweats he owned and a shirt. “No rush getting them back. Worry about getting out of that house first, okay?” He didn’t want you to worry about something as trivial as getting his clothes back to him. “Does your dad work tomorrow?” Would Danny have to go with you to get your things?

“Yeah, he does.” 

“Want me to take a sick day? I can watch him here while you and dad do that.” As much as he wanted to offer to take you, he didn’t want to risk setting Mitchell off with you around. If Mitchell had an issue with him, there’s no telling what he would do. 

You glanced at John, who gave you a comforting smile and nod to let you know he felt it was okay. “Sure.” You agreed. “I’ll bring him over after he eats lunch. He might nap, he might not. He hasn’t napped consistently since he was a toddler.” He’d been so small and squishy. You missed it some days, but loved the little boy he was growing into. 

“Is he allergic to anything?” Dean didn’t want to risk anything. 

“No, he’s not.” You shook your head. “But, thank you for the clothes. I’m going to go shower and crawl into bed. Night.” You said softly before disappearing upstairs. 

Dean watched you go and let out a breath. 

You shut the bathroom door gently before leaning against it. You’d fought the tears so hard, but couldn’t any more. At 22, you had a 5 year old with a man who didn’t even claim him, and your marriage of just a year was over. This was not where you expected to be! You couldn’t, and wouldn’t, regret your son. He was your whole world, but when you were 16 you’d dreamt of college. Of finding your passion. Of finding lifelong friends. One day getting married and having kids. 

Moving to turn on the shower, you hoped that this crying wore you out enough to sleep. You didn’t want to lie awake, the events of that night repeating over and over in your head.

John made his way to bed a few minutes after you went to shower, and hated hearing you cry like that. It wasn’t fair at all. 

While he did that, Dean was lying awake on the pullout couch. One hand was behind his head, the other was on his stomach. He felt guilty. Had he not said what he did, had he not taken off, had he stepped up to be a dad, and had he not been a complete ass…you would have never been in this spot. You wouldn’t have married an abusive prick. You wouldn’t have bruises on you. If he could go back in time and slap himself upside the head, he would. That just wasn’t possible.

Once you’d dried off and pulled on the borrowed clothes, you made your way to Danny’s room. You were thankful John opted to get him a twin bed and slap sides on it so he didn’t roll off. You left the door cracked and shuffled over to the bed. Looking around, you smiled softly. There were a few pictures of Danny and John around the room, a couple of Danny and Sam, and toys your son loved. It didn’t take you long to fall asleep once your head was on the pillow.

[poetskings]

@jegulus-microfic | June 12: challenge | 1.8k

Regulus gets a date.

Regulus Black doesn’t date.

He’s notorious on campus for not taking anyone up on offers of dates, dismissing them without even really considering them. And it’s not like he doesn’t get offers; with his raven curls and storm-tinted eyes, he’s a certifiable catch.

There are rumours about it, as there always will be; that he’s secretly engaged, or that he’s sworn off dating, but no one can figure out exactly why it is that Regulus Black doesn’t date.

He’s been here three years and still hasn’t gone on a single date, to the point where it’s become a challenge for final years; the first person to take Regulus on a date wins.

It started with Barty Crouch in first year; they were sat next to each other in their Approaches to History course, mindlessly working their way through a ‘get to know your partner’ exercise when Barty blurted out the question that would come to define Regulus Black for the first time.

‘Do you want to go out sometime?’

Regulus let out a bark of laughter, only shaking his head before turning back to the sheet of paper and asking Barty for a fun fact about himself.

The two ended up attached at the hip, but they’ve both clarified that there’s nothing romantic between them; solidified when Barty started dating Evan Rosier at the start of their second year.

There were rumours about why Regulus rejected Barty; of course there were, but then it happened to Emmeline Vance, and again to Kingsley Shacklebolt, and twice is a coincidence but three times is a pattern and people started to catch onto the fact that Regulus Black didn’t date.

Once a pattern was established, people got more persistent – who would be the person to take Regulus on a date? – but the rejections persisted, all through second and third year.

There are only a handful of people left on campus who haven’t asked Regulus out, but chief among them is James Potter.

And look, it’s not like he doesn’t want to. He’s spent the past three years watching Regulus get prettier and smarter and more aloof and he wants, but there’s the small matter of Sirius Black, Regulus’ older brother and James’ best friend.

So he watches from afar as Regulus sits on the green with Evan and Dorcas, laughing at something Evan’s said, head thrown back and long line of his neck exposed. A second-year approaches the trio, twisting his hands nervously, and James knows what’s about to happen, but he watches anyway.

The second-year shuffles on his feet a bit, head down as he mumbles out what can only be a request for a date. Regulus only shakes his head, muttering yet another rejection and turning back to Dorcas, not even bothering to watch the second-year walk away.

James bites back a smile, the same way he always does when Regulus rejects someone. And it’s not like he has a chance, but it’s nice to be able to delude himself into thinking he does.

He’s drawn out of his daydreaming by a slap to the back of his head.

‘Ow, Pads, what the fuck was that for?!’ James exclaims, rubbing his head where Sirius struck.

‘You were stuck in your own world somewhere and I’m bored,’ he gripes, and James can only roll his eyes affectionately.

‘Fine, what do you want from me today?’ James asks, turning away from the younger Black to focus on his older brother instead.

‘You saw Regulus rejecting that second-year right?’ Sirius asks, shifting to sit cross-legged across from James.

‘I think we all saw that – what’s your point?’

‘Reggie still won’t tell me why he doesn’t date, so I want you to ask him out to figure out why it is that he rejects everyone,’ Sirius states, like it’s obvious, like it’s no big deal.

James freezes for a moment, trying to process the fact that Sirius has just asked James to ask Regulus out.

He’s wanted this for far too long and Sirius is just going to hand it to him, like it means nothing.

‘Shit, Pads, are you sure you don’t just want to watch me get rejected?’ James cocks an eyebrow, trying to bring some normalcy back to the situation.

‘Jaaaaaames,’ he drawls, ‘I just want to know why Reggie doesn’t date, and I’m sure he’d at least tell you his reasoning when he rejects you.’

James sighs, muttering out a hesitant ‘fine.’

‘So? When are you going to ask?’ Sirius is basically bouncing where he sits, and James knows that he’s not patient, and Sirius wants James to ask Regulus now, but shit, James has wanted to ask Regulus out for three years, and he’s never been one to half-ass things, so he’s going to do this right.

‘Give me a week, yeah?’ He turns back to his books, trying to re-focus on his essay preparation. He can feel Sirius’ eyes boring into him, but he refuses to look up.

‘Yeah, alright then, Prongs.’

And that’s the end of that.

James spends the next week planning out how best to ask Regulus on a date. He knows that Regulus doesn’t like a public spectacle, and that he spends most of his time in the library. He knows that Regulus is on the university archery team, and trains for that three days a week. He knows that Regulus likes old books and older music and loves the charity shop a ten-minute walk away from campus.

He knows all this but he doesn’t know how to ask Regulus Black out.

The days pass and James is nervous; his self-imposed deadline is fast approaching and he still doesn’t know what to do. He decides to go to From the Ground Up, figuring that caffeine will help clear his head. It’s a short walk; only ten minutes, and James needs the fresh air.

The coffee shop is a home away from home, ambient jazz playing in the background, accompanying the sounds of keyboards clacking as students work on seminar notes. James greets Pandora, the barista he’s become familiar with, before ordering his usual; a strawberry frappe with caramel syrup and whipped cream.

He zones out while Pandora makes his drink; the sounds of the machines a comforting background tune, taking his drink as she slides it across the counter and slurping shamelessly.

‘Got enough sugar there, Potter?’

And shit, there he is, and it’s too soon and James isn’t prepared. He chokes on his drink, strawberry frappe streaming out of his nose and it wasn’t supposed to go like this.

He struggles to clean himself while also holding his drink, and he’s sure there’s drool on his chin and frappe spilling out of the glass and this is a mess. He’s flustered and he can’t think straight and Regulus is right there and-

Oh.

There’s a hand on his chin and James’ brain stops.

Regulus takes the frappe, placing it on the counter before moving to wipe James’ face off, his chin still held in Regulus’ hands as he runs the napkin over his mouth and James can’t stop staring.

Regulus is treating him like he’s something special, something breakable, and the words are out before James has fully registered them.

‘Willyougoonadatewithme?’ It comes out jumbled and far too fast and there’s a flush creeping up James’ neck and this wasn’t how he wanted to ask Regulus; he wanted it to be perfect but he’s covered in strawberry frappe and he’s making such a mess-

‘Okay James, I’ll go on a date with you.’ Regulus smiles softly, and James thinks his world shifts on its axis, realigning itself to orbit around Regulus Black.

‘Oh, that’s- I mean- um, that’s- thanks.’ James is malfunctioning, splitting apart at the seams, because Regulus Black said yes.

The boy in question chuckles softly, moving the napkin away from James’ face and taking his hand instead, despite the fact that it’s covered in frappe.

‘Let’s get you cleaned up, and then we can discuss this date,’ Regulus says, guiding James to the bathroom, and James is powerless to do anything other than follow him, nodding dumbly.

It’s soft and tender and James has never been looked at like this before. He’s half-convinced that this is a fever dream, that Regulus Black would never say yes to a date with him, let alone when he’s covered in strawberry frappe.

Regulus draws his hands over to the sink, running the tap and cleaning in between his fingers with so much care that doesn’t quite know how to process.

It feels like the start of something much bigger than James could have imagined; something that will consume him whole.

He thinks he’ll let it.

‘Why did you say yes to me? You’ve got a reputation, you know, and I didn’t think you’d say yes,’ He mumbles, because Regulus said yes to him, and he can’t quite wrap his head around that.

‘Oh, I was waiting for you to ask,’ Regulus says, like it’s obvious, like it’s no big deal.

James feels too big for his skin, feels like he’s going to explode, feels too much, but Regulus is still holding his hand and looking at him like he’s the only person in the universe and James has never wanted something so badly.

‘Can I kiss you,’ he blurts out, and Regulus blooms, a blush painting his cheeks a delicate pink as a smile draws itself across his face.

‘I was waiting for you to ask that, too.’ James is a goner, helpless to do anything other than press his lips to Regulus’.

It’s not what he had in mind; they’re in a coffee shop bathroom and James is still covered in strawberry frappe but Regulus’ lips are soft and he tastes like black coffee and his hands are winding into the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging softly, and James wants to stay here forever.

They break apart and it could have been seconds or minutes or hours or days but James can only think of Regulus; his entire universe narrowed down to a focal point in Regulus Black’s eyes.

They go on their first date later that day; James follows Regulus round his favourite charity shop, and he still smells of strawberry frappe but Regulus is talking to him about the importance of sustainable fashion and he thinks it’s perfect anyway.

They tell Sirius that evening, and he threatens James and threatens Regulus but he can’t hide the grin on his face, and they both know he loves them, and is happy for them.

They hold hands on campus the next week. The rumour mill responds accordingly, asking how James Potter of all people got lucky enough to secure a date with undateable Regulus Black.

Turns out that Regulus Black does date. He was just waiting for James Potter to ask him out.

[chubs-deuce]

Something that I hate that ppl do when it comes to hating on Chalastor is saying “Alastor is aroace and Charlie is in a relationship with Vaggie! You’re being disrespectful to both of them!” Even when you explain that’s it’s merely a harmless AU, they still get soooo upset.

Which first off, Alastor is actually ace, not aroace, Amir literally said that himself, and second, just cuz Charlie is with Vaggie doesn’t mean other people are going to ship them, cuz Charlie is bisexual! And thirdly, being ace or aro or both is a spectrum. It’s a wide range of things, not everyone is going to be repulsed. Yeah canon show Alastor maybe repulsed by sex and romance but that’s what AUs are for! They are there for others to expand and change things as they see fit.

Like I think Chaggie is a cute canon ship, but I find Charlie and Alastor and even RadioRose far more appealing and adorable, and especially when it comes to the fanart. Like the fanart! Every piece of Chalastor and RadioRose fanart I have seen is just *chef kiss* ✨perfection✨ seriously your art of Chalastor has got to be my favorite fanart I’ve seen of them, everything is just so beautiful 😭🥹 also I’m a huge sucker for Dad!Alastor

Before I dig into this response any further I'd like to thank you for the high praise of my art, but I'd also like to point out that I don't exactly appreciate the negative tone you're bringing into my inbox here and would like to kindly remind you that my asks are not a confession booth for fandom salt... ^^"

I understand that it can be really frustrating to deal with that kind of stuff, but I feel like a lot of this belongs more in dms than in an ask box that gets responded to publicly...

Fuck knows I have my own not-so-nice opinions about some things certain people in fandoms do, especially considering the nigh constant harrassment some ships are under by other sub-groups of the fanbase, but I vent that shit privately with friends where it won't kick any beehives into a tizzy along the way... It also imo just reflects on the rest of the ship community a bit better to not make big public stinks over some faceless douchebags on the internet with too much time to waste ^^".

(Yes this is an open invitation to just dm me with fandom salt like this if you need to unload some, I'll happily indulge you there! But I really would prefer keeping fandom salt out of my asks and in turn out of my public posts lmao)

Ultimately I'm a strong believer of ship and let ship and I am also of the opinion that if you need to put down another ship to enjoy your own you're not doing the shipping thing right.

Indulging in romantic and/or sexual fantasies about fictional characters is meant to be fun! We're all just sitting in our own little corner making our dolls kiss after all.

Unfortunately, I think a lot of people in this modern era of fandom spaces keep forgetting that. For many, shipping is a competition for bragging rights (i.e. canonicity), a form of activism or for yet again others it can be an excuse to mask bully urges and habits as exerting moral superiority (hence the constant, hypocrisy-filled barbs at people not "respecting" their canon sexualities)

Depending on which one you're dealing with, you may get genuine confusion at your shipping preferences since they approach shipping with a completely different mindset (i.e. shipping for canoncity and/or aesthetics over the narrative potential and/or writing quality) or people intentionally trying to bait you into a defensive response.

Sometimes you can argue someone out of their frustration about your lack of "respect" for canon by explaining that what you do doesn't affect canon in the slightest, nor do you even want or need it to - maybe even giving your reasons for shipping something! But that only works on people that are already receptive to your arguments, so you have to know who and what you're up against and if they're even worth wasting that sort of time and energy on.

I can assure you that 90% of the time the easiest option is to just block antis without giving them the grace of a response. It's usually the quickest way to get out of those types of situations lol (ignore them if they start claiming that they "won" and consider you weak or cowardly for blocking them - they just want to guilt you into unblocking so they have more free reign to keep harrassing you)

[in1-nutshell]

What if Maxima got the matrix of leadership during RiD.  Grimlocks reaction to Maximum Prime

...oh no...

Somebody's not gonna like this...

Anyways, Hope you enjoy!

Maximum Prime and Grimlock

SFW, Platonic, Romance, Angst, Cybertronian reader

RiD2015

The team noticed the changes with their unofficial official Second in Command ever since Optimus had returned from his first away mission.

At first, they believed that it was just her getting used to having him back.

It would have made sense seeing what happened when the pair had first reunited.

But there was something different about this time around.

For one, Maxima looked much more tired.

Probably caused by her wandering around the scrapyard from the late hours of the night to the early hours of the morning.

Grimlock had often woken up to find Maxima sitting next to him wide awake and just tracing little shapes on his frame.

Grimlock groggily opening his optics.

Maxima was sitting near his side gently rubbing circles around his joints.

“Hmm? Maxi? You good?”--Grimlock

Maxima looks over at him.

He can’t exactly register the look she was giving him, blaming it on the sleepiness.

“I’m fine Grimmy. Just go back to sleep.”--Maxima

Grimlock gently moves his tail, so it slightly encircles Maxima.

“Y’know you ‘an tell me if ‘ers somethin’ wrong…”--Grimlock

Maxima leans to his side and vents softly.

“…Just gets some sleep Grimmy.”—Maxima

• Then it was the strange looks she was giving the team. • Most of the team couldn’t exactly pinpoint what exact emotion it was and partially brushed it off. • Bumblebee, Optimus and Ratchet had different gut feeling about those looks. • It looked almost like… aching.

Bumblebee comes over to Maxima’s side.

“Hey, you doing, okay? You’ve been acting… strange.”--Bumblebee

Maxima tenses a bit.

“I’m fine Bee.”--Maxima

“Is it about Optimus being here? I know it’s a bit of a rough transition, but—”--Bumblebee

“Its not that Bee. Trust me, its not something you or anyone can do.”--Maxima

“Then what is it?”-Bumblebee

Maxima vents a bit before giving Bee a sad smile and patting his back.

“This one’s on me Bee. I’m figuring somethings out. Its something that doesn’t concern you, Dad, Ratchet or the Team yet.”--Maxima

“Yet?”--Bumblebee

“It will come up soon, I’m just trying to make it as smooth transition as possible.”--Maxima

“Transition? Maxima what are you talking—”--Bumblebee

BEEP! BEEP!

BEEP! BEEP!

“Guess that’ll have to wait for later then.”—Maxima

Then a week later Maxima hugged everyone goodnight.

Something that wasn’t completely out of character.

But the length of the hugs were defiantly longer than normal.

The next morning the team took notice that Maxima hadn’t left her habsuite yet.

Optimus had offered to go see her, which eventually ended up with him being accompanied by Ratchet.

When the two hadn’t returned after a couple of minutes, the rest of the team decided to go see what the problem was.

But they didn’t need to as the pair began walking back with someone else behind.

The Bee Team looks up at the taller bot behind Optimus and Ratchet.

She looked strikingly like Maxima, but at the same time extremely different.

It was almost uncanny.

The bot steps forward.

“My name is Maximum Prime. I am here to aid Optimus in training as well as work with your team to defeat the oncoming threat.”--Maximum

“What threat?”--Bumblebee

“It is a threat that the other Primes’s have yet to tell us. But until then, I am here to help you all in your missions and training.”--Maximum

“Another Prime? But what about the Matrix?”--Bumblebee

“The Matrix I am holding is a near replica to the one in Optimus’s Matrix of Leadership. The only difference is that this is simply a temporary fix.”--Maximum

Bumblebee’s optics go wide.

“Lieutenant?”--Strongarm

“No… She would never… But he’s still here…”--Bumblebee

Grimlock looks around.

“Umm, has anyone seen Maxima around? She’s missing all this information, and I don’t think—”--Grimlock

Maximum looks at the dinobot and vents softly.

“Maxima is not here. She bonded with my Matrix to create… me.”—Maximum

Grimlock feels everything stop for a split second.

“What?”—Bee Team

“To be able to create me, Maxima had to bond with the replica Matrix. Giving me life… putting Her’s on pause.”--Maximum

Everything in the dinobot’s frame goes stiff.

“She isn’t gone. More, ‘on hold’. She will be back as soon as the threat is dealt with.”--Maximum

“And how long is this gonna take?”—Grimlock

Maximum gives him a sad smile.

The same smile that Maxima had.

“I am not certain Grimlock. As long as the threat is here, is as long as I will stay.”--Maximum

Maximum turns to Optimus.

“We need to start the training as soon as possible. There is much we still need to discuss.”--Maximum

The two Prime’s walk off leaving a very confused team and distraught dinobot behind.

The team did adjust to the new Prime and her presence in the Scrapyard.

But it didn’t feel right either.

Don’t get them wrong, the new Prime was a great assest and a good friend to the team, but there was a Maxima shaped hole missing.

Grimlock was especcialy affected by this new change.

He had just lost his best friend.

His partner.

His future Conjunx Endura.

Gone, at least for now.

Grimlock figured that until then he could practice asking Maxima the question.

The Dinobot was determined to get the moment right and hoped she’d say yes.

[dykesynthezoid]

Love thinking about Armand’s calculated, cold anger, he is so special to me… ppl have rightly pointed out that he doesn’t appear to “lose control” in the same way Lestat does, that there’s something very deliberate and meticulous about the way he handles those emotions.

And I think it’s hard to express, as someone who also handles emotions in a similar way (although waaaaay healthier and less destructively, lol, thank god), where that line between in control and out of control actually is. Where the anger goes from hot to cold. How deliberate the harm is.

Like, my anger is very calculating. I know what it feels like to be fighting with someone and to feel my mind sort of— pushing at weak spots. To be dialing in on exactly the most devastating thing to say, bc in the moment I am feeling so hurt that some part of my brain, even against my will, has started piecing together how to do the most harm back.

And like. Luckily I’m an emotionally mature enough person that I know if I get to that point, I should a. Not fucking say what I’m thinking and b. Just leave, literally get away, before I say something I’ll regret on impulse. But Armand is not working with the tools I have, lol.

The line of how conscious that calculation actually is can be really interesting. Armand doesn’t appear to just be lashing out for the sake of it— But in a way, he is? It’s just all filtered through this very meticulous lens, this incredibly tight grip he has on himself. It’s all so natural to him— The harm (in this episode!) is deliberate, yes, in that at least some part of him means to do harm; but the calculation is likely occurring to an extent without him even thinking about it. Bc it’s just how his brain works.

And he is also so clearly Activated throughout the entire thing; like he is very much in a state of reactivity. He isn’t thinking clearly. His nervous system is on the fritz. It’s just his version of that still appears very controlled from the outside, because he’s had to become so good at controlling himself and masking his responses.

(There also are probably some layers of dissociation happening there! Like, structurally, in his brain. It seems like he’s definitely got different Emotional Parts locked off from one another.)

[creamecream]

Gonna be honest: CandyClown feels mainly because I realized I can completely see Beppi doing the “we’re friends now! call me The.” bit.

[daydreamerdrew]

The Incredible Hulk (1968) #268 and #272

[coldvampire]

ngl. unconsciously disengaging from this website has been hdjfkg kinda good for my mental health overall? like yes im still dhdjfjf left out of a lot of stuff BUT i see it less so that means my feelings don’t get as hurt lmao. functionally that’s more or less the same thing probably?

going recluse isn’t what i ever want to do (& I didn’t even do it on purpose, just got busy and had a low social battery because of it) but aside from me being overall comfortable by myself, it just kind of seems like it’s where people are content to leave me. doesn’t feel great but it is what it is.

[exopelagic]

liveblogging my descent into madness

[ickadori]

++ 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘

[summary] wrio’s spouse winds up in prison. special treatment ensues.

[cws] gender neutral reader. fluff.

“What you did was incredibly stupid.”

“I’d like to think it was very brave, actually.” You quip back, lips pursed as you turn up your chin. “You should be proud of me, really.”

“I should be proud that you got yourself thrown in prison?” You don’t have to look up to know that Wriothesley is sporting an incredulous expression. “Did they knock your head around a bit before bringing you down here?”

“You’re acting like I murdered someone.” You finally meet his gaze, and you resist the urge to sink down into your seat at the clear disapproval in his eyes. “All I did was—”

“Break into the Opera Epiclese and destroy government property.”

“That’s such a trumped-up charge!” You huff and roughly cross your arms over your chest, eyes narrowing as you think back on the charges that had been slapped down onto you by that damned archon. “You trip in the dark and accidentally fall into the oratrice and all of a sudden you’re a criminal. Hmph!”

“Yeah, exactly. It also doesn’t help that you broke in—”

“—I left my bracelet in there after the trial! Was I just supposed to leave it behind and potentially lose it forever? The condition of the lost and found in that place is downright terrible—the guards pocket all the good stuff.”

“You could have bought another one.”

“Not like this one.” You look down to the gray bracelet encircling your wrist, and a warmth spreads in your chest as you gently twist it around, finger rubbing over the messily written engraving on the inside of it. “This was a gift.”

“Hardly.” He sighs, and your eyes flick up to watch as he runs his hands through his already messy hair. “It’s just scrap metal I bent up and welded because I couldn’t buy you proper jewelry back when I was a prisoner.” It’s his turn to look at the bracelet.

“You were so creative back then.” You smile a bit wider. “I remember you used to have something new made every time I came to visit you. What was that one thing you made? The one that we painted together?”

“The ballerina music box.” He groaned, looking a bit embarrassed, and you snapped your fingers.

“The ballerina music box!” The ballerina was a bit oddly shaped, and the box had sharp corners on one side and rounded on the other, and the song the box played was distorted and sounded more creepy than relaxing due to some disfigured cogs, but you loved it nonetheless, and had even sobbed in thanks when he had first presented the gift to you. “I love that little box.”

“It looks like a child made it.”

“A child in the throes of eleazar, yes,” you nod, and his mouth opens a bit in surprise before he huffs out a laugh. “But I still love it… because you made it.” You give him a sweet smile, and you can see him soften up before your very own eyes; broad shoulders losing that rigidness, lids lowering, crease between his dark, thick brows disappearing.

“You’re tryin’ to butter me up.”

“Mhm,” you nod. “Is it working?”

“Not at all, jailbird.” He gives you a smile of his own, and despite the clear sarcasm in it, you can’t help the little flutter your heart does at the sight. “No special treatment for you.” So he says, yet he had placed a cup of tea down for you the moment you were brought to his office, and had even tried to inconspicuously nudge the basket of cookies in your direction, pretending not to notice when you reached for one. “Spouse or not.”

“What a mean man.” You slouch down in your seat. “I treasure the gifts that my lovely, amazing, strong, handsome, and so so so incredibly smart husband gives me and what do I get in return? A criminal record and unfair treatment! I’m suing the entire nation the moment I’m free!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he waves his hand in the air as if fanning away the conversation, and now it’s your turn to huff. “For the few days that you’re here, you’ll be working directly with me in exchange for coupons.” He takes a slow sip of his tea, adams apple bobbing as he swallows, before gently setting the cup back down onto its small plate. “I’ll make your first job real easy to get you in the swing of things.”

“How kind of you.”

He just barely contains an amused smile. “Very. Now…” He shifts in his seat. “Give me a kiss.”

“I’m married, Your Grace.”

“I’m sure your husband won’t mind. Kiss. Now.” He taps a finger against his lips, and after a moment you stand up and round his desk, hands finding his shoulders as you bend at the waist so your noses brush.

“My husband is a very good fighter, by the way. When he finds out you twisted his spouses’s arm like this, he’ll pummel you.”

“I can handle him.” A hand snags you by the waist, forcing you down into his lap, and you only have time to let out a quiet yelp before Wriothesley’s lips are on yours. The kiss is slow, sensual, and it brings a warmth to your cheeks and covers you with a bashful cloak when he pulls back to let his eyes roam over your face. “I’ve gotta say… your husband is a real lucky guy to snatch up someone as cute as you.”

“Hmph. Seems like you’re trying to butter me up now.”

“Is it working?” He presses his face into your neck, his lips pulling into a smile against your skin, and you have to fight back one of your own.

“Not at all, jailbird.”

[dante-mightdie]

simon ‘sweet talking’ riley who knows exactly what to say to get you back in his bed :(

c/w: nothing really, implications of smut but nothing graphic, arguments, fluff kinda

not even in a toxic way. he just knows exactly how to make your knees turn to mush with that thick manc timbre of his. the silent treatment never lasts long against him

just imagine, it’s date night. you two haven’t had any alone time in forever since he’s just so busy with work. you get all dolled up for him. went to the salon and got your hair and nails done, bought a new dress and everything

just for him to not notice any of it when you come downstairs, your hopeful smile dropping when he just presses a kiss to the side of your head and guides you out the front door

this put you in a sour mood at dinner, which in turn led to an argument which then lead to you two going home early. the shouting match carried on for a few hours until all the fight had been drained from your bones. instead a bitter and melancholy silence hangs on the walls of your shared house

you were both in the bedroom now, simon sat on the edge of the bed, a beer in one hand and his head resting in the other. his once prim appeared now dishevelled and stressed. he hears you shuffling around and peers his head around to watch you

it’s almost methodically how you undo your appearance. hands deftly unclasping your necklace and putting it back in your jewellery box. you sit down on the foot of the bed, unbuckling your heels but leaving them strewn on the floor before slipping off your dress

he watches as the black fabric slips from your shoulders and pools at your feet. he doesn’t miss the new lingerie set you must’ve worn for the special occasion. he lets out a sigh, putting his beer down and walking over to you

you stop what you’re doing when you feel his arms wrap around you from behind, a frown pulling at your lips when he buries his face into the crook of your neck,

“ya look beautiful, lovie…” he hums, one of his fingers slipping ever so slightly under the waistband of your panties. you wriggle in his tight hold but he doesn’t let up

“stop, simon…” you whine but he ignores you, pressing kisses to the nape of your neck instead

“ya’think I didn’t notice all this?” he coos, “how you got all prettied up for me tonight? new hair and dress and everything…”

he gently sways you from side to side, breathing in the scent of your perfume. you let out a content sigh, your earlier frown still present on your face

“I know I acted like a wanker, love. lemme make it up to ya. show my pretty wife jus’ how much I love her. want all the neighbours to know just how stunning I think you are…” he continues and you hate how he always has this affect on you, can never keep you mad at him

he leans his head around to place a few soft pecks to your lips. you don’t miss the smirk that spreads across his face when you lean up to deepen the kiss :(

[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.”

“ . . . ”

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞.

Synopsis: What I think Alastors wife would be like, if he had one of course.

Warnings: mentions of blood, pinning, harassment?, Alastor being himself, not in a specific time period but at some point shifts to hell? Let me know if anyone is interested in a part two!!

Navigation!! // Masterlist!! // Serendipity Writes (event)

Alastors wife probably didnt like him at first, and that’s a guarantee. He likes a challenge, but Alastor also likes being liked by people. It fills his ego, makes him feel good about himself. He likes to watch people stumble and fall but quite literally cracks under the pressure of doing just that when it comes to winning you over. Chances were he was constantly trying to figure you out, for two reasons. One, being that he didn’t understand how you couldn’t like him. I mean come on, look at him! He’s got the charm, the manners, the style and the class, the status. What more could you want? The second reason being, the more you denied him, the more he took it as a challenge, the more he wanted you.

Well, surprise surprise, you dont like people with an image to keep up; and to his dismay, that’s exactly what he does. He projects an image. One he refuses to change, and even after marrying you, still doesn’t drop the image, but starts to become more real and honest with himself.

“People who project an image of themselves to others are just trying to fool themselves into being someone they aren’t.” Was what you told him.

Alastor had also asked you out multiple times before you finally said yes. Everyone knows Alastor is very picky with the people he chooses to surround himself with. Everyone he associates with is either there to serve him, or to provide him with something, even if they’re unaware of it. Which only made you trust him less. What purpose did you serve him? What if one day he found you no longer useful and tossed you to the side? Well what were you to do then?

Denying him proved to be a challenge in itself, seeing that he’s quite literally everywhere all at once.

He’d try cheap tricks first. Buying you gifts, constantly showing up at your doorstep with a bouquet of flowers or a stuffed animal. One time he even got you a whole gift basket of your favorite treats. How sweet~ if it was actually about you and not him just trying to patch up his ego. Well at least that was what you thought on the matter.

If that didnt work he’d resort to going ghost. After all, people only miss you when you’re gone right? Well not in this case. He had left you alone physically, at least to your knowledge, but he had still kept a close watch on you. Why, he just knew it would bother you that he suddenly stopped! Until he overheard you speaking with a friend about how happy you were to finally get some peace and quiet. Well that simply wouldn’t do. After all, you should always make an impact, and what kind of impact would he be leaving on you if you went back to your old boring life? No no that just wont do dear.

He’ll start showing back up at your doorstep, taking you on surprise outing to force you to spend time with him. He’ll take you on a walk around a nearby park, a restaurant one day, the picture show the next. He has a long list of places to take you, so you’ll never go to the same place twice! Get your dancing shoes because he’s gonna take you out to the town for the night, after all the city never sleeps! This is when he becomes less forceful, but more of a decent calm. He begins to listen more when you speak, and you actually begin to care about what he’s saying, what a shock!

It’s almost like a switch flips after your outings. He’ll take you to an orchestra show, snickering to himself when he sees your eyes begin to water as the show closes out. He’ll force you to hold onto his arm as he walks you across the street on a rainy night, making sure you don’t slip or trip on the wet pavement. If you ever do, he’ll try his best to catch you and if he doesn’t? Oh what a nightmare, it seems he’s fallen too! For you that is~

You two begin to feel closer, not only physically but emotionally. He gets you to open up about your personal struggles, and in turn, he’ll share some of his own, but not too much. He doesn’t allow himself to be fully and completely vulnerable with you, not yet. But he does try his best to sympathize with you when you share your piece of mind with him. He feels accomplished to know this part of you, and his ego is the last thing on his mind anymore, but instead you take up all the space.

He doesn’t use pet names for you, not cute ones anyway. He’ll call you his devilish belladonna, especially if you love flowers. His creepy spider Lillie. He’ll often speak in the ‘language of flowers’, and will educate you on it if you don’t know so you know exactly what he’s talking about.

He’s the type of person to correct people in public to make them feel stupid, but he never does that with you. Instead he’ll wait until it’s just the two of you and tell you jokingly how wrong you were. You’ll get upset because he let you look like a fool, but in his mind he’s just protecting your feelings. If anyone else corrects you, they’ll have their mouth sewn shut that’s for sure!

He never gets you the same bouquet of flowers. They’re always different, and every week or so you have a new one. He keeps a separate batch for himself so he knows when to get you another. That being said he also makes the bouquets himself, he does not buy them for you already made.

When you finally take Alastor up on his offer to court you properly, he is over the moon about it! Finally, you seem to be coming to your senses dear! Though you quickly follow that comment up with a “Let the blood rush to your head first.” He just bats his lashes at you with a smile. You always know how to make him feel so loved!

Gets very jealous very easily. If he sees you laughing with someone that isn’t him, he’ll size them up before deciding if they’re a threat or not. Heaven forbid anyone actually put their hands on you and uh oh! Limb of the floor someone come get it!

His possessive nature is rooted in abandonment, and thus being said, he has deep attachment issues to you. You are never out of his sight when you two begin dating, and you’re hardly ever far from him in general. You two dress similarly too, especially if you’re from the same era. He’ll switch up your wardrobe slowly so it complements his.

He isn’t one for strong PDA unless he feels like he needs too or just has a strong want too. Usually it’s an arm around your waist, or you hanging onto his arm loosely. The most he’ll ever really do is a kiss on the back of your hand or to your temple. That being said, he’s like this for various reasons.

One, he has a lot of enemies, which means that not not only does that put you in danger, but if you’re also a powerful overlord, it puts him at risk too, though he doesn’t care much about that part.

Second, he doesn’t like physical contact much, and though he always makes an exception for you, he has his image and pristine reputation to keep up. Which you extremely dislike but tolerate because it’s Alastor and if he hasn’t changed much in centuries, nothings going to change ever.

Alastor is very very fond of you, whether you believe it or not. Your fiery attitude has him whipped more than he likes to admit. He’ll joke with other sinners that he’d sacrifice you to save himself but you both know that isn’t true, his nervous ticks prove it to be false, if you do say so yourself.

He’s very fidgety. He’ll tug a piece of your clothing or twirl a strand of your hair between his claws. If you claim he’s messing up your hair he’ll cast a tornado of shadows around you to fuck it up even more, and then smiling at you lovingly when you threaten to cut his ears off because you can’t tell if they’re his hair or just furry ass ears. You always give him a good laugh.

Other sinners are actually convinced you both hate each other, but turf wars on the news show that you two are the most in love when you’re wreaking havoc on innocent sinners for no possible reason other than the fact you two had an argument and the best way to settle it? Dancing in the rain, which actually isn’t rain, just blood falling from the sky because you like to kill people for fun.

“My darling looks the best in red if I do say so myself! Especially if she’s dressed by another’s remains, oh the beauty!”

Alastor has and will continue to get in his feelings about you and his mother getting along so well. He loves you both to pieces, so seeing his two favorite people together makes his dead heart swell with joy.

He’ll ask you to accompany him to the tailors, he values your opinion more than others so you often make adjustments to his suit and he’s just like ‘Whatever she says that’s what’s going on the suit.’ You also make him your personal dressing doll, trying different patterns and styles on him for fun. Alastor is a true skinny jeans hater and he will die on that hill, again. He really appreciates the 60’s style, but prefers to stick to his own decade.

He will take you out hunting with him, and the two of you share breakfast together with the fresh meat you’ve caught. He only gets the best quality for you because he refuses to have you two ‘eating like chums’. A restaurant tried to lie to the two of you, saying their meat was high quality and fresh. Alastor killed everyone in it and you two shared remains like a true power couple. Hells finest of course. ;)

He’s very critical of picking out jewelry for you. Hunting for the perfect ring for you took him ages, mainly because he knew exactly what he wanted but no jeweler had what he wanted all in one ring. So instead he forces them to make him a custom one. Torn limbs and bloody parts later, you have the ring that Alastor worked so hard to give you. He proposes to you Extermination day, claiming he’d love to spend another year in hell with you before the angels come to rip you two apart from each other. It was such a sweet day, at least to you it was.

The type of relationship where he plays the piano and you sing. He loves when you sing and will gush about you to anyone in sight even if he doesn’t know them.

Is very needy in private. He’s a stage 10000 clinger, and will stick to you like his life depends on it, but will be damned if anyone catches him. You don’t tell anyone about it, you like the private life.

You two have cook offs all the time. You make the hotel staff judge, and ultimately Niffty is the tie breaker because she’s brutally honest. Once she told Alastor he should stay out of the kitchen because women were better at it for a reason… harsh!

He was fine though, he got her back by ridding the hotel of bugs. He knows she likes chasing them around and for that she sobbed at his feet for ten minutes asking him to bring them back. It didn’t take much actually, Sir Pentious brought them back on his own, much to Charlies dismay.

He loves to read with you. You two often read a book and once you both finish you have a tea session over it. It starts off being about the book and then somehow shifts to just gossiping and talking shit about the other overlords, except for Rosie, we love Rosie in this household.

Speaking of, Rosie is usually where you get your clothes from. She’s a sweetheart when she isn’t picking pieces of muscle from her teeth, that sharp smile is a killer! She loves to talk about Alastor with you, and usually she’s where you go after you two have had an argument. You’re also her personal Barbie doll. She puts you in outfits and she and Alastor judge over them. Nine times out of ten you leave her boutique with a new wardrobe every time.

Now let’s talk about Vox.

Honestly the whole reason Vox knows about you is probably because he was digging through Alastors shit. But when he sees you? Oh lord, this man is HOOKED.

He doesn’t even know how Alastor managed to get you entangled with him. He finds out about you when you and Alastor aren’t dating yet, and he basically jumps at his chance to try to be with you.

Vox will forever consider you the one that got away, you can’t change my mind.

Alastor has proven time and time again that he’s basically better than Vox. He took a seven year back, came on the radio one day and boom all his viewers were back. In Alastors mind there’s no competition, just Vox being obsessed with the fact Alastor said no.

Valentino uses it against Vox all the time, and it will always make Vox buffer.