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#it was interesting to look back at my old list
mynameisjag · 19 hours
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From a fic I never finished, Bruce and Damian enjoy a day out. That's it, just them having a good day.
It wasn’t often that Bruce went out into Gotham as well, just Bruce…not Batman or Brucie Wayne.
Just Bruce.
Changing into simple clothing, letting his hair air dry and just heading out like that and the public didn’t recognize him.
No slicked back hair or suits of any kind.
Just a t-shirt, his favorite throw over cardigan and what Dick insisted was mom jeans, a five o’clock shadow, and he was ready to go.
Just a quick trip to the shopping center to pick up some office supplies for his home office, a few groceries for Alfred, some snacks for the Batcave, and he probably needed to check the family chat to see if anyone needed anything while he was out.
A quick glance at his messages as he began to head out, already on his way to the garage, Dick was trying his best to convince him to get…strawberry flavored Batty-O’s with crackling and popping sprinkles…sounds horrible and right up his eldest alley…also full of terrible sugars…
Alfred would hunt both of them down if he brought this home.
He’ll just order it and have it shipped to Dick’s apartment…
Jason wanted him to fuck off…Bruce sent off a xoxo and a request to come over for tea in response to that. He got a thumbs up and a middle finger.
Tim…is either half asleep and texting or is trying to send out a code for everyone to decipher…both was possible…adding melatonin to the list…
Cass was sending happy faces, so it’s seems she’s good at the moment, sending her a heart, ballet shoes and a crown. His dancing princess.
Duke sent a thumbs up and got one back in return.
Steph was just saying she’ll just take what she needs from his place whenever…time to restock the “hidden” care packages then.
And Damian…Damian was staring him down from the passenger seat of the car…
“Damian…is there something you need that you couldn’t put in chat?”
“I am coming with you.”
“…you hate the public…”
“I will overcome my distaste of others and escort you, Father, you shall not face the scrutiny of the common by yourself.”
Aww, he just wanted to spend time together and Bruce could never refuse the baby of the family, “Of course, I appreciate your concern.”
His darling just puffed up with a smug smile, proud that he managed to get his way without any argument, “I’m glad you are agreeable.”
Look, they are communicating!
Not well, but it was a step forward!
Besides Damian even took the effort to dress more ‘civilian’, the green sweater with a little tiny bird stitched in with the words ‘just a bobbin like a robin’ was definitely a gift from Dick.
Adjusting the seat belt and getting the car out of the garage, Bruce just hummed happily, letting the silence settle between them comfortably. Mentally going back over his list, glancing over to see his son playing on an old handheld game. Something that was more then likely stolen out of Tim’s room, but with the older boy making his own place in the city, it would be awhile before it would be noticed it was gone.
Almost all his children had moved out…he was happy they were moving on in their lives, looking more into their futures but his heart hurt because his babies weren’t actually babies any more. They would have argued that none of them were ever babies with him but he would just ignore that.
He hoped this doesn’t result in empty nest syndrome…
“Baba, can we stop by the game store, I want to see if I can find more interesting games.”
“We can, after we get everything on the list, can you check my phone and see if anyone has sent in anything they want to be picked up-what in Lady Gotham is this?”
Bruce blinked as traffic was stopped to let a…small parade of Batman floats pass by…
“There are copycats out on the street, how dare they parade around as us!”
“…I think parade is the word, look at the banners…”
Batman Day!
“So they are not copycats…but worshippers…”
Bruce tried not to laugh at the thought, "I think the word is…enthusiastics…”
They both watched as a man walked past wearing a banner that said, “Priest of The Bat”.
“…and we will be investigating that later, let’s see if we can park and look around.”
“Time for some detective work, Father?”
“Undercover detective work.”
Damian was eagerly typing away on the phone, “I shall keep the others off our trail so they won’t interrupt our investigation, also according to the online advertisement, the parade will end in the park where the “Batman Day festival” will begin. They will have bat themed mooncakes at certain booths.”
“Are the mooncakes important to the investigation?”
“One must keep all possibilities open, we must check each booth for clues.”
Bruce kept the smile that was threatening to grow held down, he was sure the boy wouldn’t appreciate being cooed over his want of treats being disguised as being extra thorough, more so that he didn’t want his siblings interrupting their day. He was going to have to order everything online and have it shipped to the manor then, mundane chores could wait.
His baby wanted mooncakes.
He will get mooncakes.
It didn’t take too long to park and follow the short parade to the fairgrounds, even with them stopping and staring at the lookalikes, a man giving them a balloon with the bat symbol and the words ‘I believe in Gotham’s local cryptids’, and someone clipping tiny bat wings to the back of their shirts at some point.
Soon the entrance was in view and by that time, Damian was now on Bruce’s shoulders, taking in the crowd, head turning back and forth at the bright lights, the performers in bat themed outfits, wide eyed as a child runs in front of then in a Robin costumes.
Bruce is humming thoughtfully to himself as he eyes a group in clown makeup done up in a Gothic theme, so far all they seem to be doing is some parlor tricks for the crowd around them. Some people even taking selfies, it was a rare sight for a Gothamite to get close to a clown without violence.
He was wondering if he should text the others, surely by now they would be aware of this festival happening, Barbara had to have known…
“Darling, do you want to text your siblings?”
“I can tell them to be on alert for any suspicious behaviors while we blend into the crowd…like the one over by the dart game.”
Bruce could only blink as his head was forcefully turned toward a booth with a bunch of balloons tied to a backboard, “Dart game?”
“Yes, obviously it’s a skill test but what kind? We must investigate.”
Hmm, a skill test that totally didn’t have to do with the giant plush animals as prizes.
“I think I remember Dick saying how these games were rigged,” he watches as a parent carries off their crying kid, wincing in sympathy as the cries get louder.
“No amount of trickery could possibly stop us!”
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delusion-mostly · 2 days
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Regina George x Reader
Part 2/32
Warnings: suggestive flirting, reader gets injured, lots of cussing, mention of pain medication
Word count: approx. 1,805
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The next day you see Regina at her lunch table. Even after last year she still sits with Cady, Karen, and Gretchen. She waves you over.
"What the fuck did I say about talking to me George? Especially after last nights words I REALLY am not interested in speaking with you." You whisper-yell at her.
"You didn't add me to that stupid group, I have no clue when things happen. Missed that detail didn't you sweetie." She gives you a condescending smile.
"Hm, call me sweetie one more damn time and your ass will be facedown in the ice. Got it George? When it comes to my sport you respect me or get the fuck out," you send a link to the group chat to her as you rant, and finally look up at her, "you know I was willing to be nice, and potentially be acquaintances this season, but after what you said? I was trying to help you and you had to be a bitch. Same old Regina."
You walk to your table with your teammates, Kendall and Mac, and slam your tray down. You don't know why, well, you do; but Regina filled you with a red hot hate. Worse than any other person you have ever met. Worse than the girls who took your state championship away from you, worse than your exes, worse than your bullies. Regina made you burn with anger, but damn did she look good with that condescending smile on her face.
She walks by your table, picking you up by the arm and drags you with her as she walks out of the room. You don't want to make a scene, so you don't fight it and instead walk next to her; besides, Regina on your arm made girls look at you. She pulls you into the nearest empty classroom and you yank yourself out of her arm.
"What the actual fuck." You swipe your letterman down.
"Y/N. I'm sorry. Okay? I lashed out. My back hurt, it was raining, I didn't like the way you treated me at practice. I have a lot on my plate. i didn't mean to yell at you," she sighs, you aren't convinced, "You were trying to be nice, I understand. I shouldn't have gotten so angry. I really am sorry."
"Oh it's never your fault, is it? The burn book was Cady's. Total bullshit by the way," you put your hands in the warm pockets of your wool letterman and pace, "and you lashing out was all your stress, and your pain, and I guess me?" You sarcastically laugh and throw your hands up, dragging the sides of your jacket up with you.
"Oh my god. No. I admit it. The burn book? Me. Me lashing out? Well, I should have kept that inside. I really didn't mean to. And I know why you were so mean, it's because I was mean first."
"Right on the money, Miss George. Now tell me, did we learn how to properly apologize in elementary school? Or do I need to teach you how to lace up skates AND apologize."
You sit on the teacher's desk, it squeaks under your weight. Regina turns bright red and looks like shes about to cry, she tilts her head down and fidgets with her sleeve. A tear streaks down her face, mascara rolling with it, and she swipes at it with her blue sleeve, leaving the spot a muddy blackish grey.
"I'm sorry, Y/N. For practically calling you a slut, saying you couldn't score points, AND for lashing out. I don't actually have that big of a problem with your sexuality." She gets out.
"Thank you. And I figured you didn't, it's just the first thing you notice to pick on me about. I'm not ready to accept your apology yet, or talk to you. But maybe, just maybe, we can learn to get along," the bell rings and you open the door to leave, "peace out George."
———
That night at practice Regina walks in almost the same time as you. You try to be civil by holding the door open, and she gives you a small smile as she walks through. You still hate her, but she has a nice smile. You walk down the steps leading into the locker room. You quickly change into your practice jersey, pants, and skates after putting on your gear, and you head on to the ice.
"Listen up ladies. We still have 2 months until our first game, but I am putting us on this ice early. Short practices for now, but it gives us more time to enhance our skills since we are playing the fall and spring season," you spoke, and the girls cheered, "so like yesterday, drills until 4:30 then everyone can go. Everyone knows Regina, she's our new manager. Leave your messes for her." You joke, and everyone starts skating laps.
For an hour you trade off teammates. 2/3 of the team will use half of the arena to skate down and backs, the left over 1/3 practices making shots while swapping out goalies. The clock lets out a loud buzz as it did last time, and everyone shoots their final shot and exits to the locker room, except you. You stay and keep skating around the pucks.
Regina laces her skates up and grabs the net that the pucks go in, then skates around the ice with the goal, collecting them all and stuffing them in. She leaves 5 pucks for you to keep shooting with. The click of the puck against the ice and walls as it bounces into the net made your brain happy, especially as Regina left you alone to go put away the others.
Regina suddenly hears a loud scream as she sets the puck bag into its spot and quickly hurries onto the ice to see you gripping your ankle tightly with your helmet thrown on the ground.
"Damnit I slid." You shout, ripping off your gloves and throwing them.
"What happened!?" Regina kneels beside you, concern laced in her voice.
"I was grabbing the net to collect the pucks, one wrong move and my skate got caught in the..." you started to yell, "damn net!"
"Where are your keys." Regina asked seriously.
"What do you mean 'where are my keys'? In my bag, why do you need my keys?" She begins to walk to the locker room, "Regina George, I may not like you but you better not leave me here!"
She rushes back up the steps, keys in hand, "I'm pulling your car up. You can't walk on this, let alone drive." And she exits
You set your head back on the ice, pain shooting through your leg. Maybe she really felt bad for what she had said, maybe this was her way of truly apologizing? Or had she actually changed and wanted to be helpful.
She rushes back in and helps you up to pull you off of the ice, you limp while putting most of your weight onto the blonde girl beside you. She puts you on a bench in the locker room, unlacing your skates and setting them in your locker. She reaches to pull down your pants.
"Woah! George this isn't what I thought you meant when you said you didn't have a big deal with my sexuality! Not the time!" You stop her.
"Don't flatter yourself captain. This is to get you into something more comfortable, and so you can fit in your own car. I don't have to but it would sure be easier." She looks at you sternly as you begrudgingly nod.
She pulls off the gaurds you have over your shins and then starts pulling off your pants, you look away and try to help as the awkwardness is unbearable. She opens up your locker and pulls out the grey sweats you had tucked away. She does the same with your jersey and a black tank top you had.
"I very easily could have gotten the jersey myself, George. Someone being nice today?" You playfully punch her arm.
"Don't be weird Y/N. Now get up. I'm taking you home." She helps lift you and wraps your arm around her, assisting you to your car.
She puts you in, gets in on the drivers side, and buckles herself, "where am I going, captain?"
"Where did that name come from?"
"Being captain of the hockey team is like, your one personality trait outside of being a massive player, Y/N." She chuckles.
You direct her to your house, which is nearly 20 minutes from the school. Aside from you telling her where to turn and the occasional groan in pain, the ride is rather quiet. It is incredibly awkward.
She pulls in to your driveway and helps you out, getting you to your front door and knocking. Your mom steps out, concerned, looking down at you holding your foot off of the ground.
"Y/N Y/L/N not again! Goodness. And you make this poor girl drive you home? Come in sweethearts come in!" She opens up the door and Regina guides you as you limp in, setting you on the couch and sitting beside you.
"This one is such a clutz. She did the exact same thing last year you know. Let me guess, skate in a net? We are still getting the prescription from that one! Oh goodness where are my manners," your mom holds out her hand to Regina, "I’m Patricia, but you can call me Pat. Would you like to stay for dinner?"
"Oh no ma'am I have to start my walk home, thank you though!" Regina awkwardly declines.
"Oh nonsense! Y/N can't drive right now and I have to pick up her pain medication so why don't you just stay the night! It has been so long since she has had any friends over aside from Kendall." Your mom continues. You hope she shuts up.
"You know, Pat, that sounds wonderful," Regina smiles and looks over at you, her look growing more spiteful, "I will call my mother right now, you have a very safe drive to the pharmacy and I truly thank you for opening your home!" She gets up to call her mom.
Your mom kisses you on the forehead and exits into the garage. You hear the mechanical whir open, then shut. The couch dips beside you.
"Now you have to listen," Regina looks at you, "Can we please talk about my apology?"
You certainly did not want to accept the apology, but you couldn't run away from it now.
Well. Shit.
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I did a TWDG character tier list because it’s been a while
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Back in July 2019, I posted a tier list ranking TWDG characters from all four seasons with explanations for why I placed each character where I did. It’s now 2023, and I’ve mostly stepped away from TWDG and the fandom. I pop in occasionally to answer asks or give updates about the Clementine comics. Sometimes I get the itch to do an analysis post. Or something like this.
Distancing myself and then revisiting the series has changed a lot of my opinions of these characters and my ranking is quite different, so I thought it’d be interesting to discuss.
Just a note about how I’m ranking this: This ranking is solely based on my feelings about the characters. Last time I ranked some characters higher than I wanted to because I acknowledged their good writing and popularity. I’m not doing that this time. Well-written/popular or not, if I don’t like them, they’re ranking low. If I like them, then that’s the only reason I need to rank them high. That’s probably going to cause disagreements and that’s fine. Agree to disagree, y’know?
Each character is limited to a 3-4 sentence explanation. I can’t write a heavy analysis for every character, otherwise we’ll be here forever.
Also, I didn’t include characters from the Michonne mini-series since they weren’t included in my original and the mini-series is separate from the main series. All you really need to know is Michonne and Pete would’ve made A-tier.  
Starting from F-tier and working our way up to S-tier:
F-tier
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Troy Surprise, Troy’s my least favorite character in the entire series. He’s an asshole and I find nothing compelling about him other than his death scene. He’s insignificant, I hate him, and he can suck an egg.
Vernon Vernon has some sympathetic qualities to his character but as far as characters in S1 go, I can’t say he’s all that great. Sure, he patched Omid up but that doesn’t mean he gets to fuck us over in the end. Screw him, y’know?
The Stranger I feel like I like the idea around The Stranger more than the Stranger himself. I get it, he’s supposed to be just some dude and it’s a neat reveal that he’s the guy we stole food from, but I liked him better when he was just a voice over a walkie. He’s just kinda here to guilt you over your choices no matter what you did and use it as an excuse for kidnapping Clementine, but I need a little bit more from my antagonists.
Joan Joan has one of the coolest villain moments in TWDG when she asks you who you want to save, then orders who you picked to be executed, and honestly? I respect that. It just sucks that Joan as a character is boring as sin. I can’t forgive boring antagonists, she sucks.
Larry Not going to lie—Larry is the biggest asshole and I kinda live for it. I still absolutely hate him, but I can respect him as a character for being such a piece of shit. He has some depth to him when you bother to try out different choices, and his death is so ingrained in my brain, but he’s in F-tier for a reason. I hate him, but he’s a damn good antagonist within the group.
Abel I think Abel is a great antagonist and he’s well-written, but I also think he’s garbage and I hate him. They really captured how crusty, creepy, and cruel he can be while also giving him a moment of vulnerability when he realizes he’s dying.
D-tier
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Kenny Yes, I’m ranking Kenny this low. He’s one of my least favorite characters in all of TWDG, but at least he’s an interesting character study despite just being such a piece of shit. I’m sorry, I know he’s a fan favorite and he’s a broken man with a sad backstory, I understand that he’s a complex and well-written character. But I can’t stand him; he’s manipulative, violent, possessive, you can’t disagree with him without him throwing a tantrum, and I just don’t like him.
Andy, Danny, Brenda I’m clumping these three together because I might as well, my opinion of them individually doesn’t differ much. These guys are cannibals who lead people to their farm to butcher, eat, and trade the meat with bandits. They fed Mark’s leg meat to the group like…. It’s so fucked. They’re great antagonists, the best in S1 for sure, but fuck these guys.
Walter I’m kinda meh on Walter. He’s where he is on this tier list not because I hate him or anything, he’s mostly just here to guilt Nick and then be executed by Carver, and eh.
Arvo I don’t like Arvo. I don’t think that’s an unpopular opinion. I feel bad about everything he went through and Kenny was absolutely in the wrong for abusing him the way he did, but I can’t say Arvo himself is compelling. I think that’s a common theme with me—boring is usually worse than bad, and Arvo isn’t all that interesting. Then he shoots Clementine and we never hear from him again sooo…. Cool.
Omar Oh no, poor Omar ranking so low. But again, for me boring is worse than bad, and Omar is boring. I’m sorry, I know that’s wild coming from me given my past with TFS but it’s true. Omar is a character who exists, he cooks, he gets shot, he survives, and that’s about it.
Mark The only cool thing about Mark is how he died. But as an actual character? Meh.
Sarita Sarita is barely her own character. She exists to serve Kenny’s character development, and I hate that for her. She’s nice, and unfortunately that’s it.
Willy Willy is okay. He definitely has the most depth in this tier, save Kenny. But he’s still a minor character who I can’t justify putting any higher when I don’t love him.
Mari Oh, poor Mari. She’s sweet, but her death is more impactful than her actual character.
C-tier
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Carver Carver’s a pretty good antagonist. I like him well enough. He’s a piece of shit, he’s intimidating, and he’s dangerous. Not the best, not the worst antagonist.
Carlos Carlos is hilarious, which I don’t think was the intention behind his character but if not, then they shouldn’t have made him so funny. I’m not saying funny as in “haha,” I’m saying it in a “you are an incompetent man, why are you doing this” way.
Duck I feel kinda bad for putting Duck so low, but he has the same problems as Sarita and Mari, though he does have a bit more personality going for him. His character serves Kenny’s character development, and his death is more impactful than he actually is.
Bonnie Bonnie’s fine. I liked her more in 400 Days. In S2, she’s just kinda meh.
Rebecca I like Rebecca well enough. Her going from being a complete asshole to wanting to be friends with Clementine between episodes kind of gives me whiplash but I can’t help but sympathize with her. She’s a pregnant woman in the zombie apocalypse who lost her husband because Carver’s a piece of shit and then she dies shortly after giving birth... it’s sad.  
Shel and Becca I like Shel and Becca a lot more than I did before. Their situation in 400 Days is rough, and I feel a lot for Shel wanting to give Becca a good life despite the state of the world. Becca’s also just a kid who tries to act tough and like she has a thick skin but c’mon, she’s still just a kid. 
Mike Mike was super chill until he betrayed us at the end. I would’ve ranked him higher but frankly, I’m still a bit bitter about him wanting to run off with Bonnie and Arvo, completely fine with taking all the food and resources so that Clementine and baby AJ starve. We were bros, Mike, then you had to go a do that. 
Brody Once again: Her death is more memorable than her character. But, in this case, I will say Brody stands out given the fact that she’s lying to everyone about the twins and dealing with the guilt gnawing at her in ep1. I find her interesting within the context of “who is telling the truth? what really happened?” because unfortunately, both she and Marlon end up dead so we’ll never know the full story from either perspective. 
Mitch Oh, my boy, there was a time where you ranked waaaay higher, but I can’t do it. Mitch is a good character and serves his purpose, and his death is still pretty bullshit. I still like him, just not nearly as much as I used to. 
Eleanor I’m still pissy about Eleanor snitching on us to Joan which results in either Ava or Tripp being executed, and then having the balls to yell at us about it. But prior to that, Eleanor’s a character with great medical knowledge and skills who wanted to help people. She just ends up being a victim to ANF’s less than stellar writing. 
Kate I still have a lot of issues with Kate, like I still hate the romance between her and Javi and how bitter she becomes after being rejected, but I don’t hate her. She’s a flawed character but I understand her perspective on things when it comes to David and Richmond. She’s also resourceful and charming at times, I like her well enough. 
Violet Yeeeeeah, remember how I said this is 100% my biased opinion on all of these characters? Violet is a mid C-tier character for me, she’s just okay. I don’t hate Violet, I don’t love her. She has some really endearing moments just as she has infuriating ones. I talked a bunch about her in my revisiting TFS post, if you want a full explanation on my feelings about her, then you can read that. 
Chuck I like Chuck, he’s chill. I appreciate the reality check he gave Lee about Clementine and their plan, and I’m sad that he died. Not much else to say. 
Vince I really like Vince. I talked a lot more about his character in my 400 Days post, so to summarize, he’s another interesting protagonist in that dlc and I liked his story a lot. 
Molly Might be an unpopular opinion to put Molly this low, but even though I like her, I can’t justify putting her higher. Molly’s story is heartbreaking though, and incredibly traumatic when you sit with it... like, she traded sex for medicine so her sister wouldn’t be thrown out, and given that we don’t meet her sister and dipshit doctor said he couldn’t keep helping her out... yeah. Molly brings a lot of charm and humor while she’s around but she’s also just so sad, y’know?
Jesus Jesus is cool. I don’t really have much else to say about him other than that. 
Christa I feel like a lot of these C-tier characters can be summed up with, “I like them, they’re cool... yeah.” because that’s how I feel about Christa. She shines more as a character when paired with Omid, and like with Rebecca, I really feel for her as a pregnant woman in the apocalypse who then lost both Omid and their baby and had to remain strong to care for Clementine... even though her resentment and bitterness are clearly present. 
Conrad My boy Conrad... I still really like him, though my love has definitely toned down. I enjoy his story and still stand by keeping him alive to the end, even though he makes it difficult sometimes. He’s hurting and that makes him stupid, and if you keep him alive long enough, he genuinely apologizes then tries to be better and I respect that. 
Ben Ben didn’t quite make it to B-tier, but know that he was close. Ben is such a screw up and he does so much damage, but I can’t bring myself to hate him. Most of us don’t wanna admit that if the apocalypse actually happened, we wouldn’t be a Lee or a Clementine, we’d be a Ben. 
B-tier
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Aasim Aasim is definitely one of my favorite side characters in TFS and I’m always going to be bitter that he wasn’t used to his full potential. He’s the perfect middle ground between Louis and Violet, I love that he keeps a journal to record everything that happens, and that he’s the only one willing to push back at Marlon. Aasim’s great. 
Ruby I adore Ruby, she’s great. She’s small and fiery yet she’s the group nurse and takes pride in patching people up. Again, one of my favorite side characters in TFS. 
Alvin I have a lot of feelings about Alvin. Most are sad. This man loves his wife and their baby. I love the exchange between him and Clementine where she tells him he’s nice, she can tell, and Alvin’s just like, “I ain’t nice!” and Clementine goes, “...Yes, you are.” with a smile, it’s great. He didn’t deserve his fate, I’m still hurt by it. 
Nick Speaking of not deserving their fate: Nick. I like Nick a lot and will never be over his off screen death and how no one really cared. 
Eddie and Wyatt Lumping these two together since I couldn’t decide who I liked more. The two are amazing, their story in 400 Days is so damn enjoyable, and the chemistry between them is off the charts. Both interesting characters with great personalities. 
Katjaa I’ll never not be sad about Katjaa. Woman deserved the world and yet that’s what she got. She’s so interesting given her career as a vet which made her the group doctor, the fact that she married Kenny, and how she straight up tells you that she has her limits and she would’ve left Lilly behind if it was her choice. 
Doug Doug’s pretty great, but there just wasn’t enough time devoted to him in S1, especially if you don’t save him in ep1. When you do save him, though, he’s one of the more enjoyable characters to be around and I appreciate the efforts he makes to help the group despite his talents lying else where. 
Luke Luke is great for two episodes, then his character slowly went down the shitter. He had the makings to be great, to be an A-tier character, no questions asked... but honestly, putting him in B due to my personal feelings is being generous. When you’re only great for 2/5 episodes, then maybe you’re not an overall great character, hmm? But I’m biased and I like him. 
Minerva Okay look, I love Minerva as a tragic antagonist. I take back every mean thing I’ve ever said about her. 
Tripp Man, I love Tripp. He’s my bro, y’know?  
Gabe Gabe is a brat and I love him. I understand the criticism, but I also understand a lot of that criticism is rooted in “any child character who isn’t exactly like Clementine is deemed annoying.” He's one of the better parts of ANF in my opinion. 
Tenn I’ve done a lot of thinking about Tenn since I wrote my retrospective on TFS and like... Tenn is a great character. He’s interesting to have within the story of TFS, and I know, it’s so easy to just hate him because he keeps making the same mistakes. It’s when you look at the full picture that you understand why he keeps doing it and it’s just... sad. He always dies in my playthroughs, it’s heartbreaking. 
Sarah Sarah should get a shirt that says “I was wasted potential in S2 and all I got was this lousy shirt.” Because yeah, the set up for Sarah is executed so damn well, then the game fumbled, and then she was killed off. My girl deserved better than that. 
Carley I adore Carley. That’s my girl, I love her. Just.... I love her. Not much else to say. 
Ava Ava is so fucking cool, why is it that ANF killed her off in the most comical way possible when she survives execution? How could you do that to one of the most badass characters in TWDG? She fucking knocked TRIPP on his ass. I love her so much. 
Marlon Marlon is the perfect antagonist for ep1 of TFS. I have an entire character analysis about him, and again, I covered his character again in my retrospective of the game. 
Lilly Yeah, yeah, laugh it up-- I love Lilly, she’s an asshole and she’s great in both S1 and TFS. She’s a woman under so much damn pressure in S1 due to looking after her abusive father as he’s all the family she has left, she’s leading the group which Kenny continually gives her hell for, and she just wants to survive. Then she comes back in TFS as a great antagonist and we see just how far she’s fallen due to everything that’s happened to her. I talked more in-depth about her in my TFS retrospective post so if you want more details, you can go there. 
David Okay listen, this is my tier list and I say David is on the verge of being A tier for being such an interesting bitch. David is such a bitch, a real bastard, I could punch him in his damn nose, but damn it, he’s fascinating and I won’t apologize for being invested in the Garcia brother dynamic. I hate him but also I think he’s great. 
A-tier
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Pete I feel like Pete being this high is just purely my bias showing. He has no business being this high and above so many other characters, but I don’t care. I love this man. He’s only in two episodes [assuming you ran to him instead of Nick] and he’s still one of my favorite characters in S2. 
Russell Russell is my favorite protagonist in 400 Days and I will be forever salty that he wasn’t more important in S2. 
James I could talk and talk about James until I’m blue in the face. I adore James, he’s such a compelling and often misunderstood character. 
Omid I mean, c’mon.... who here doesn’t think Omid is an A-tier character? He’s just so charismatic and charming, it’s hard to dislike him even a little. All these years later, and I’m still hurt that he died the way he did. 
Jane Yeah that’s right, Jane ranks this high. Jane is a fucking great character and I’m tired of pretending she’s not. I want to give you an in-depth analysis that elaborates on that, but unfortunately, I’ve limited myself on this post. That’s what asks are for, I suppose. 
Javier Javier Garcia is the best thing about ANF. Listen, ANF is the worst installment in the series, I feel like I can confidently say that, but Javi makes it all worth it. That, and his dynamics with Gabe and David, and Clementine, too. I love this man. 
AJ I debated on if I should put AJ here or S-tier, but ultimately, S-tier is for my absolutely favorites. While I love AJ and his development over TFS, he just barely misses the mark. But I think his spot here is well-deserved, love that little goofball. 
S-tier
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Rosie Rosie is best girl. That’s it. She’s best girl. 
Lee It’s been how many years and I’m still not over Lee. He deserved the world. I love him so much. 
Clementine What’s there to even say about Clementine throughout all four seasons? She’s S-tier. She’s incredibly well written throughout the series, her growth is amazing, and her ending in TFS is definitely deserved. I love her so much. 
Louis Coming as a shock to literally no one, Louis is my favorite character in all of TWDG and he deserves the top spot in the top tier. What can I possibly say? I have written countless posts about how much I love him. He’s my favorite and I fucking love him. 
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And for a fun comparison, my 2019 tier list:
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heartorbit · 2 months
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find another role, carry on the show
#EDIT IT DIDNT SAVE MY TAGS. hey so this post got a thousand notes huh. interesting. surely nothing will change#i'll leave all the old tags. for my thought process. and its kinda funny#take a bow stupid idiot (throws a tomato at them)#in stars and time#isat#siffrin#siffrin no middle names no last name ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧#... or is it. Smiles#i'd like to draw mira for her birthday but um (hasnt open artfight website in a few days) im scared.#also i have NICE ASKS TO ANSWER.... But im scared. give me a minute#Uawaaaaagh i drew this bc i was trying to animate a little bit but it just . Didnt look good. im not good ag 2d animation#tch. ill keep trying cause there ar e way too many songs that and now about isat because i have brain worms. i need amvs.#IM SCARED TO POST THINGS THAT ARE SPOILERY BECAUSE I WANT MY FRIENDS TO PLAY ISAT. BUT.#isat spoilers#in stars and time spoilers#sasasap#sasasa:p#WHAT IS THE PROLOGUES TAG.#tshirt that says 'i <3 killing the image in the mirror and taking its place' on the fromt#and a list of megan thee stallions tour dates on the back. お金稼ぐ俺らはスター#Im kind of tempted to edit this to be the versiom with the eyes. or maybe twt can have that. or. well#all of my friends are on twt (trombone slide sfx) so maybe thats where i should worry about spoilers.#ill see if i want to slap an eyepatch on them in the morning#Im one of those people who was like idgaf about twohats (lets it simmer for a week) Oh my god. Oh my god. Ohmy god#EDIT. i swapped it out for the Eyes version it should be fine as long as its tagged formspoilers right...#ill post eyepatch vers on twt partly bc spoilers but also ppl over there can be .. annoying ..... ....#i fear i would get 800 You Forgot The Eyepatch replies. PLEASE JUST SEE MY VISION.#[BANGING MY HANDS ON THE GLASS] HIS HAND. LIKE IN THE PROLOGUE. WHEN THEYE. HANDS. HELD[EXPLOSION
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svtskneecaps · 6 months
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thank you for bearing with my purgatory posting and i'm also glad to see i'm not the only one who still has this fungus eating away at my brain matter. seeing other purgatory posting in the tag makes me feel better lmfao.
i'm not done btw, posting will (probably) continue as i revisit vods. wanted to extend a thanks in the interim, since i know how contentious the event was in the moment. i kinda thought the general consensus was most people hated thinking about it, but there's been a weird amount of engagement and yknow other people talking. makes me happy to know i'm not alone here!
#qsmp#qsmp purgatory#shut up vic#block game brainrot#it also provides me the opportunity to get a new perspective on some moments as well#like watching the jaiden spawnkilling thing the first time i missed some nuance in bbh's tone when he offered to walk her to her body#rewatching i heard them :D#i'll probably rewatch his conversation with slime from the same day at some point to refresh my perspective on that#but i think i'll wait on that; that convo makes me super biased lmfao#i'm aware of my biases at least :D and dw i won't bring old discourse back#tbh i never rly posted discourse much to begin with? just that one list and analysis of time stamps LMFAO#but yea i won't be bringing that back to the tag even if it's back in my brain#i PINKY SWEAR; i'm not one to start fights on posts or blogs that aren't mine#i block and then if i REALLY have something to say i shittalk them into my bathroom mirror#bc i know neither of us are gonna snitch >:D#long tags#it's also nice to look at with the benefit of hindsight and reflection#bc i know everything that happened; i was there watching it live#bolas are unreliable narrators#i'll probably see about going through some of the other team's povs as well just to see#it's interesting is all! and i finally have the time to sink my teeth into it properly#since we aren't having to keep up with like six streams a day#it's been so long sinve this server took a proper breather i'm appreciating it for all it's worth#((yes i wish the circumstances were better but they aren't; we take what we can get lmao))#ok anyway love u byeeeeeeee purgatory posting will probably continue#i'll tag as appropriately as i can; lmk if there are further tags i should add#i prefer people don't block Me if they hate these; i'll make u a tag to block if u ask i promise <3
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aenhanse · 10 months
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people weren't lying those crossroads of twilight can really slog
#this is the longest it took me to finish a wheel of time book#i haven't been really posting my thoughts as i read through this series but i am an old man staring out his window rn#wot book spoilers#once i hit egwene pov chapters it definitely got better in terms of me actively wanting to sit down and read it#but the parts before... idk if it's because i had my usual break before picking up this book specifically but man.#tragic to me because elayne and mat povs are usually my favorite in the books but alas.#at least i got the “but she loved aviendha every bit as much as she did rand”. much to think about#but yeah it very much feels like a sort of filler book#i feel like a lot of the events could've been shortened?#but i do find a lot of what happened in the back half of the book interesting. like the introduction of so habor#and whatever is going on with mat seeing dead people?? yeah i'm kicking my leggies and am interested to see what's up with those things#although all three boys now getting in some ways alligned with the seanchan... :| not looking forward to that#and i find tuon intriguing she is interesting to me i just wish there was no romance plot here#overall i enjoyed the egwene chapters the most#egwene povs my new best friend#(i'm saying this as if i haven't liked them in previous books. i very much did but there were always povs that i enjoyed more in comparison#anyways. live randland reaction the book goes to the bottom of my list. i am walking off into the sunset with knife of dreams in my hand#olga talks
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I actually was in the Artemis Fowl fandom, insofar as I was able to be in any fandom, when I was in high school... but there were only I think four books out at that point.
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st4rbwrry · 4 months
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𝒜𝑀 𝐼 𝐵𝒜𝐵𝒴?
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✧。˚ a shy nympho camgirl seeks a partner to help her film content on a dating app. soon, meeting up with a handsome man who's willing to do anything for the pretty girl he chats with.
𝒲𝒜𝑅𝒩𝐼𝒩𝒢𝒮 𓇼 14k. pwp, lowercase intended, age gap ꒰ toji is 36, reader is 24 ꒱ submissive reader, pleasure!dom toji, bondage ꒰ belt ꒱, check ins, heavy praise, overstimulation, aftercare, unprotected, videography, oral ꒰ f + m ꒱ , squirting + kreaming, spanking, choking, hair pulling, mild degradation, intimacy on high, toji is intimidating, manhandling, masturbation, daddy kink srry not srry, pet names ꒰ baby, girl, pretty, sweetheart, angel ꒱ minors aren't welcomed! reblogs & comments are appreciated!
౨ৎ — ꒰ 𝑚𝑜𝑐ℎ𝑎’𝑠 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑠 ꒱: this took me so long to finish y'all but im super proud of it. one of my favorite works so far so i hope y’all enjoy. ♡
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you hold your notebook in your hands, a bright pink color with numerous doodles sketched onto its cover, your pen on the back of your ear as you slowly cross off a list of things you needed to buy while browsing on your laptop. your room is quiet aside from the soft sound of music playing from your stereo, beyoncé’s cowboy carter album playing from start to finish while you slumped into your soft pink duvet hiding beneath a white canopy slip. the air is crisp how you like, a fresh, chunky strawberry is chewed between teeth, and your skin is freshly scrubbed and moisturized, only covered in a matcha green two piece short and tank set. a laptop sits on your thighs as you cross your legs, twirling your left calf as you bury your back into your mountain of plushies.
this was frustrating. you never realized how hard this would be to find someone to fuck, let alone film content with. you’d made a profile on hinge a week prior to now, and most of the matches weren’t close to peaking your interest. most of the men seemed like creeps, some too old . . . giving very much grim reaper. and others, too young, freshly adults at that. you think you’ve made yourself appealing enough. cute profile with full faced pictures, personality traits, daily interests even . . . but it somehow didn’t attract those you truly wanted.
as your sticker covered macbook’s motherboard screamed for air, warm on your thighs and now sliding on your tummy the further you leaned back. . . you were growing tired. huffing and puffing from literal exhaustion. am i wasting my time? should i just go out and find people like in the movies? but this generation made it so hard to even physically connect anymore. what happened to people running into each other at a coffee shop, a book store, a park? sharing interests and going on dates. granted, what you were looking for was strictly work related. you wouldn’t dare stare a stranger in the eye you bumped into at the farmers market and ask, “hey, wanna fuck me for content?” it’d be tasteless. you have self respect. others may think differently considering your side quests to fund the unfathomable reality of adulthood on top of just being a girl.
“this fucking sucks,” you groan to yourself, thumb aching from how quickly you hit the big ‘x’ on the bottom left corner of your phone screen.
maybe it was time to call it a night. you had an early shift at the salon, about five clients to be exact, booking either re-twists, goddess braids, or a wig install. so you had to save your hand strength. sighing, you shut off your laptop and set it aside on your nightstand, disconnecting the music from your phone before getting up to cut off the light. your fluffy cat that laid on the edge of your bed shooting her head up in alarm, ready to follow at any adventure you pursued.
“relax, mommy’s not going anywhere,” you smile assuredly, knee dipping into the bed as you lean over to smooch her on her tiny head, pointy ears tickling your cheek as you watch her tail sway. “good night, sweet — oh, fuck! i forgot to feed you. i’m so sorry baby.”
the alert in your tone has the black cat stand in attention, cursing to yourself as you slip on your heart printed slippers and make your way towards the kitchen, your studio apartment being on one level making this task easier. you listen to her tiny paws thud on the floor after she jumps off the bed in a hurry, dashing in front of you, damn near tripping you.
“oh my god, you’re so extra,” you shake your head, but couldn’t help but laugh. she meows at you violently, as if you hadn’t fed her in two weeks. rolling your eyes, you reach for her bowl off the floor to clean before opening a fresh can of fancy feast, using one of her plastic spoons to arrange her dinner.
whilst she awaits, you can’t help but glare at the screen of your phone as it suddenly dings, forgetting to turn off your ringer. hovering over it to activate your face i.d, it immediately opens the hinge app, reloading the page to see a new match. the air you inhaled suddenly catches in your throat as you stare wide eyed at your screen, the man in your view is just what you’ve been waiting for.
“oh, holy fuck,” comprehension wasn’t on your radar seeming as you lost the ability of the cat food in your hand, dropping it to the floor and flinching from the mess your fur baby began chowing on. sucking your teeth, you mutter, “goddamit. no, no. stop it.”
flailing your hand gently to get her to stop, you snatch the can and dump the remainder in the deep oval ceramic bowl. you try to ignore the rapid pounding of your heartbeat, unsure why it went so astray. maybe it’s because you’ve never seen a man so fucking fine. deadly fine, foul almost. as if it was such a disrespect to all beings. she’d cleaned up her own mess, so you take the time to grab your phone and lean against the sink to observe this man further. he had matched with you, of course, otherwise you wouldn’t have been so depressed a few minutes ago . . . unless you were waiting for him to like you back.
toji. it’s his name. simple, nice. he only has about three pictures, one of them a huge black cane corso with a gorgeous silky coat. it made sense given the vibe he was giving. dark, intimidating, sexy. jet black hair, slender smoke gray eyes, sharp jaw and a fascinating scar on the side of his mouth. another thing you noticed was how big he was. most of the clothing he wears sticks to his skin like glue. molding the outline of his muscles, the thickness in his arms, the heaviness in his thighs, the brick trail of his abdomen.
a certain feeling burns in your chest, and between your legs as you scroll to see the last image. he’s sitting on a beach chair, thighs spread in black cargo pants, matching tee, a yuengling beer in his hand and a cross dangling around his neck as he takes a sip of his beverage with a hungry look into the camera. it’s cocky, possessive, dominant. the dark brows above his eyes lowered with attentiveness. his shirt is half risen above his abdomen, and you can easily see the dark trail of hair leading into his crotch. it’s full there, clear as day. so it’s easy to tell he carries something serious.
fuck. “fuck,” you feel yourself growing hot, blowing out a breath of air before making your way back to your comfy bed to stare at him more. what a fucking man. honestly, you’d never seen someone so of your standard. exactly your type. before messaging him, you check his profile a bit deeper to make sure you’re not mistaken of anything. find some flaws, though profiles only express so much.
thirty-six, that makes you moan. that’s a twelve year age difference. though that only makes him hotter. not too old, nor young. he’s a . . . gynecologist.
“so he’s good with pussy,” you giggle to yourself. he makes a decent amount of money. he’s into fitness, clearly. cars, politics, sports. seemed like a pretty laid back man to you.
without even realizing, he had already messaged you, your heart dropping to your toes at his first response.
toji
i’ve seen you before.
you blink, fingers typing quickly.
you
mhm, where?
he takes a moment to reply, so you fiddle with your necklace out of anxiousness, laying on your stomach and swaying your feet.
toji
sounds a little embarrassing, but an adult website.
you
sounds about right. does that bother you?
toji
i wouldn’t have matched with you if it had.
you
so you’re saying if i wasn’t a porn streamer you wouldn’t even look my way?
those three dots prolong longer than you wanted, only making you aware he didn’t know what to say.
toji
i matched with you because i find you attractive. whether you want me in that way or not is up to you. i want you.
he’s straightforward. you can’t help but bite the tip of your acrylic, smiling like a stupid teenager, kicking your feet in the air. the attraction being mutual boosting your ego.
“i want you, daddy,” you joke to yourself.
you
i’m assuming you’ve read my bio. i’m looking for someone to film content with! if you’re down for it, we can meet in person and talk about it! i’m not really looking for a relationship. . . right now at least. ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡)
toji
of course, sweetheart. i’m free saturday’s and sunday’s. you don’t seem that far from me. let’s grab italian. my treat.
there’s something blunt and grown about him, you can practically feel his intimidation radiating through your fingertips. he seems just like the kind of man you knew would fuck you stupid. scream his name until the walls bled. until you’re trembling, and the sheets are off the bed, and his sweat is on your back so arched to the point where it’s painfully delicious. biting your lip, you had nothing else to lose. you needed his help, he’s offering lunch, you only live once.
you
you had me at italian. saturday at 2?
toji
saturday at 2. see you then, darling.
              𓇼
the nostalgic scent of blue magic hair grease fills the air of the salon, your fingers working tirelessly to intricate detail into the woman’s scalp you worked on. your last client of the day in fact. you couldn’t wait to clock out and grab a bowl from chipotle, thinking about it your entire shift. fingers entwining artfully as braiding hair flicks from angle to angle, you finish up the final knotless braid with a hard working sigh. you tried to remain optimistic after she’d taken her seat, unfortunately arriving an hour late to her appointment. said she had ‘issues’ with her boyfriend, smelling like weed and partially slurring her words when she came in. but you could care less when you were on a time crunch.
you hated when people wouldn’t respect the clearly listed rules on your account. so, for that, she’d be paying a late fee. after you applied moose and rosemary oil to her scalp, she’d pay you through apple pay and be on her way. you thank her, and when she’s out the door, you instantly turn to your friend and roll your eyes.
“you’re too damn nice for doing her hair. i would’ve told her ass to kick rocks after showing up that damn late,” amethyst speaks, crosslegged and shaking her head as she digs her fork into her chinease platter, filled to the brim with shrimp fried rice and popcorn chicken. the smell alone makes your tummy growl. “did she even tip you?”
“not at all,” you brush off, not even wanting to think about it anymore. “still got my money at the end of the day.“
“hey, you’ve been off the whole day, everything alright?” amethyst proceeds to question, and your shoulders slump as you halt from sweeping up hair off the floor.
aside from tireless appointments, you couldn’t get toji out of your mind, super impatient, even anxious for saturday to come. it’s two days away until you finally meet him. you’ve texted here and there, shared a few updates on life or spoke of relating passions and wanting desires. you had told him your occupation outside of being a camgirl, and how dissatisfied with it you’ve become. this field wasn’t for you anymore. the passion for it is dying, the clients grow irritable, and you just wanted to breathe. you feel like you’ve been working your whole life. in conclusion, since fifteen. started from an early age dealing with responsibilities due to financial constraints within your family. your mother raised you on her own, along with four other children. and being cursed with the older daughter syndrome, you developed faster than you wanted to. barely having time to live your life until you moved out. even then, it’s been all about work. you needed an island getaway.
“this week just burnt me out. i’m just glad it’s almost over,” you reply, not having the energy for a full conversation. she was a sweet girl, albeit very nosey. you try to keep events in your life private, gossip to a minimum.
“awe, bookie,” she pouts. “what’s your plan for tomorrow? me and the girls were gonna check out that new club ‘sin.’”
shaking your head, you disagree. “now you know i’m not big on clubs. have an art piece to work on anyways before the weekend comes. so i’ll be busy.”
amethyst nods. “well, alright then. i guess i’ll just see you whenever you get booked again.”
you don’t know why that felt like a backhanded response. you’re only here three times out of the week, and most of those days you see about five to six clients. everyone else had a bigger following on social media, meaning more attention, more money. you believe because you aren’t so passionate for this major, your ability to promote and put effort only shows in your adult entertainment career. since it’s where most of your income comes from as of four months ago.
“guess i’ll see you.”
after packing your ballerina pink telfar bag with all of your tools, you wave goodbye to everyone before making your way to your white honda civic, interior a vast splash of pink matching the two-piece skims set you wore. shorts since the weather is about seventy-five degrees today. buckling yourself in, your only agenda is to head to chipotle and then home. ordering your delectable signature bowl of barbacoa, fajita veggies, guacamole, pico de gallo, corn, sour cream, cheese, lettuce, and refusing to eat the bowl without their vinaigrette and a side of chips.
it’s around 9pm when you’re finally cleaned off from a hot shower, curly hair pushed back from your face with a hello kitty headband as you finish your skincare, sitting at your vanity while scandal plays in the background. you’d already eaten your food about an hour ago, even taking a thirty minute nap to regenerate for this art piece you needed to finish. in total, you had about three jobs; hair stylist, camgirl, ceramicist. you had an etsy profile where people bought cute little things of yours you liked to sculpt. tea pots, coquette flower pots, plates, heart cake jewelry boxes . . you name it. you had a few orders for mini miffy trinkets you had to ship out by saturday.
saturday. the warmth in your gut swarms at the thought of seeing that man. quite frankly, you’ve been unable to relieve your mind of him. he’s like a poison, hard to get rid of, but desperate to stay bonded with you. and you wanted nothing more than to be buried in his embrace; small and fucked out. since he’s been busy with work, and so have you, there hasn’t been much time to even call and chat. then again, you wanted to wait to see him in person. to feel that magnetism stronger than it already was. two days away and you’re anxious to even hear a hello.
while patting your toner into your face, you gaze through your mirror to see a scene playing from your show where fitz and olivia fight before they fuck for the hundredth time. the way he grabs her, speaks to her, caresses her and worships her. it has you thinking of toji instantly. the burn for him aching more than normal. practically feeling his eyes on you the way he stared into the camera in that one photo, long fingers clasped around the glass bottle, craving for that lock around your throat. wondering how tight he’d make it. would you be able to breathe? would he kiss air into your mouth to help you? tell you it’s okay, to feel it all, to take it all, to cum on his dick till you're milking him dry?
your thighs squeeze together from your imagination, staring at your reflection . . . and it’s all in your eyes. deep arousal, and the harsh clench you currently held your moisturizer in, close to grinding in your seat to ease the buzz of your clit. there’s only one solution for this, and you might as well make money off it. standing to your feet, you think not a second more before retrieving your laptop from your closet, setting it on your vanity desk and logging into the domain of prettyfuckbunnies.com. it seemed to be the main site for growth, given your eight thousand dedicated subscribers. you check yourself in the mirror once more before going live, rolling your chair back a few inches so they could see your entire frame. dressed in nothing but a small red slip dress.
angelbwrry is live!
your subscribers were notified well before others, hundreds of them swarming the chat within seconds. you were a new favorite, a prized star of the platform. admiration from both women and men. people who tipped you just for being pretty. others here for the obvious. applying gloss to your lips, you stare intensely into the camera, the character you play going into affect.
“hi,” you mutter quietly, slowly titling your head to the side as you bite your lip and sink lower into your seat, back arching. “i’m so fucking horny, and i just need someone to watch me fuck myself.”
the black kuromi chair you sat in begins to sway as you gently swing yourself side to side, eyes trained on the chat to witness them praise you, some comments degrading off the rip that you chose to ignore, others demanding you get on with it. for the most part, you tend to be discreet with sharing much about yourself. technically, you weren’t hiding much, your face easily accessible and probably even less hard to track. you’d always pray that there wasn’t a psycho willing to go that far just to find you. role playing was your forte. writing ideas for new personas to please them. and you had fun doing it. you’d never do something you weren’t in to for the satisfaction of others. never took private calls, or meets ups for obvious reasons.
but, you had to talk about him.
“i met this guy i can’t get outta my head,” the softness in your tone making dicks go erect and clits beat, the chat asking questions and growing fond of your way of interaction. “well, maybe not met. we’ve texted, and i meet him in a few days. possibly someone you’ll see on the channel. and . . .”
the tenseness in toji’s neck bothers him as he groans and leans back into his office’s chair, fork in one hand as he chews on his salad from sweetgreen a coworker grabbed for him, reading through emails his secretary confirmed appointments of, needing to add it into his schedule to be aware of what he can fit between. needing to run a few errands this weekend. the white doctors coat clings to his body, one foot raised to rest on the front of his desk, manspreading and jaw shifting as he finishes his food tiredly, knowing he wouldn’t eat a thing once he got home.
“goodnight doctor fushiguro! get some rest tonight, yeah?” a body comes to view of his secretary; a woman with glasses slipping down the bridge of her nose, a chunky face and beautiful red hair. she waves enthusiastically.
toji smiles, the older woman trying her best not to swoon. he’s young enough to be her son. “good night, miss thorn. thank you for today. you get home safe and enjoy your trip. i wanna hear all about it when you’re back.”
“you know you’re the first person i’m running to tell!” she chirps, toji chuckling. “i left my keys on the main desk. don’t forget or else you’ll have to break open the drawer for your patients files.”
“i’ll be sure to remember.”
twenty minutes pass and toji’s cutting off lights to his small facility and locking up. twirling the keys on his long finger, starting up the sleek black maserati ghibli gt sitting in the parking lot from his key. a black patent leather messenger bag hanging from his shoulder, doctors coat discarded and now attired in his usual black tee with matching slacks. setting it beside him in the passengers seat, he gets a ding! from his cellphone, resting his shoulders in his seat before checking what it was, perhaps it was miss thorn, she tends to leave things behind.
angelbwrry is going live!
toji raises a brow from the notification, checking the sapphire bulova watch on his wrist for the time. 9:54pm. why were you up so late? forgetting people have other schedules, he’s so used to being asleep around this time, much more having to be done today the only reason he was still in the office way past the hour it closed. part of him grows inquisitive, wondering if he should invade your privacy or what not. though, he’s not new to your escapades. he’s seen every inch of your body, memorizing it quite literally. he’s not ashamed to say you’ve gotten him off a few times these past months. he feels like he knows you on a deeper level now, so itching for that perverted behavior would be indecent to both of you. especially if he’s seeing you in two days . . . for a conversation about what you do and his potential participation.
nothing wrong with just watching, right?
as the engine to his car hums, toji finds himself in a devious act, clicking onto your feed and finding you displayed in your feminine bedroom. the videos on mute momentarily before he’s going full screen and turning his phone sideways. there you were, small and standing tall as the slip that barely clung to your body arose the more you moved. hips wide, thighs full, nipples taut and tits defying gravity. the strap on your right shoulder falls elegantly, your hair hoisted up by a claw clip and your brown skin radiating glow. the man openly groans from the sight, knowing you smelt so good.
“wait, i have an idea!” the cute tone of your voice blares through his phone, a smirk painting his stern features as he watches you scramble for something in your room, your slip riding up your ass. the hourglass shape of your body, to the pudge of your tummy . . he’s enamored.
he, and a thousand other people watch curiously as you lift the seven foot mirror that previously leaned against your closet door and position it on the floor at the edge of your bed. then, you’re digging into your bottom drawer for something else, toji catching a brief glance at the chat raving and thirsting from the view of your perky ass peaking out, a tiny birth mark under the left one. the cellulite in your legs that squish together from size, the stretch marks leading from beneath your ass cheeks down to the backs of your knees. so fucking soft.
“ta-da!” you wave the object in your hand courageously, an evil grin on your face as you show the crowd your confetti designed dildo, the brow on toji’s face raising. he almost wants to chuckle. you’re so silly, he thinks. watching you dance your way back towards the mirror where you hum a tune to yourself, swaying your ass in the air for dramatics before plunging your toy onto the center of the mirror so it sticks, watching it spring for attention.
“gonna pretend this is him, ‘till then. can’t wait any longer,” your hands slowly drift up your thighs to show your audience your bare pussy, hiding between those luscious thighs of yours. he wanted to suffocate his face there badly. what you say almost goes over his head. pretend who’s what?
toji ignores the flow of comments filling the chat, degrading you to some degree which he briefly clenches his jaw from, feeling somewhat protective. others praising you, acting like your cash pigs. pathetic, he thinks. he sees one comment in particular that makes the hairs on the back of his neck rise.
prinxxxspeach
aren’t you seeing him saturday? call him now to come help you girl!!
don’t fucking call me, angel. i’ll nut in my pants right now if i hear you say my name. he’s slightly amused that you spoke of him. is that why you went live so late? thinking about him? so pent up, and impatient, you had to just fuck it out your system? he’d fuck you a lot better than that lousy toy you had, that’s for sure.
you giggle from the comment, contacts still in your sockets so you can read what people are saying from afar.
“he can wait for me. he’s making me wait,” it’s like an old film camera flipping to the next scene, or maybe his mind had gone blank from your response because now, now you’re sinking your tiny pussy onto your toy after coating it with lube, the reflection of your cunt for all to see in the mirror. watching as this toy splits you apart, pretty folds swallowing it deep as you balance yourself on the tips of your toes. fully sitting and rolling your hips to adjust, your mouth falls wide and a whimper escapes.
“nng, s’so deep,” that voice of yours is going to get you in trouble. the broken moans you release as you lift your hips to grind and bounce, face falling forward to look at yourself, seeing someone other than yourself. your imagination begins to run wild, and you forget a cameras watching you, dainty fingers caressing the mirror before laying your palm flat, as if you’re choking him. biting your lip, you occupy your other hand by molding at your chest.
you uphold your balance well, clapping your ass down against the mirror now coated with your slick, pussy squelching ridiculously loud aside from your weak moans and desperate whimpers.
“fuuck,” your breath hikes, sounds broken and almost pleading, eyes rolling back as you collapse to your knees and lazily rock back on your idea of a dick. by this point, toji’s eyes are malicious, and his dick is hard in his slacks. shifting in his seat uncomfortably from what you’ve done.
“lemme see your face,” toji whispers in the air, the heat rushing to his cheeks. the things you do to him truly fascinating.
“g’na cuum, mmph daddy!” a high pitched squeal you let out stuns him, your hips shifting back and forth hurriedly. the flesh of your ass moving like water, and he’s in a trance. daddy? what the fuck are you doing to him? he wonders if you knew he was going to purposely join your live. already talking about him gave it away.
“c’mon, angel. show me,” the blood swells in his cock rapidly, tip damn near dripping with precum, unable to help but palm his heavy hand with it, humming and widening his legs.
“too-jii,” it’s faint the words you falter, a pathetic whimper followed by drool covered lips and a cute squeak. your body trembles from the depth of your orgasm, riding out your high and giggling cutely to yourself. to others, the words were inaudible. but to him, he knew exactly what the fuck you said.
the way you smile at yourself in the mirror, as if you’re looking at his fucked out face, you slowly upturn your head to bring it back to the livestream, a drunken, and dangerous grin on your face. never in his years of life had a woman made him gulp. to fear for what you’d do to him. how bad you’d break him, make him go fucking crazy. yearn for your pussy on his mouth.
you were fucking ethereal.
              𓇼
of-fucking-course you’d be running late. you were supposed to meet toji at two and it’s two thirty. the location of c’est moi exactly twenty five minutes away from where you lived. you were close to the downtown area, not fond of parking down there but you’d drive faster than an uber can. you made sure to make toji aware of your lateness so he’s not getting the idea that you stood him up. never. not after the other day. you don’t know what happened, but your mind took over your body and you couldn’t help yourself. you only pray he didn’t see it, not expecting him to. it’s embarrassing now that you think back on it.
you manage to make it out of the house twenty minutes after, throwing on a simple white pleated cami dress with a ruffled hem, ruched bust, and pairing of olive green sandals that had tea rose shaded orchids clipped onto the forefront. a teri cherry printed coach bag tight on your shoulder after you sped sixty miles per hour towards the restaurant, finding parking and hurriedly making your way inside.
“hi, reservations for fushiguro. i’m extremely late,” as you approach the host, you make out the sight of the man you were here to see outside instantly. sitting alone sipping a cup of coffee. his side profile all you can see, that deep scar carved into the side of his mouth, his veiny hands big as he clutches the mug . . and your throat clogs up.
he’s fucking . . . big. fuck being nervous before, this made you want to run and hide and never show your face. he’s practically hunching over the table, making it appear smaller than it actually is. his hair is midnight black, his broad shoulders and muscles suffocating the sleek gucci button up he wore, a few undone, eyes studying his cellphone, awaiting your call. one thing about being a doctor, he’s learned to be patient. understanding your alarm forgot to go off, or rather you slept through it . . seemingly growing to become impatient. he needed to see your face now.
“right this way.”
your feet follow blindly behind the hostess, trying your best not to trip over your own feet, heart beating drastically against your ribcage. your palms are sweaty, feeling the warm breeze of spring air hit your skin as the hostess leads you outside to the table where toji resides. he sees you before you see him, the sun beaming on your skin not nearly as hot as your cheeks suddenly became when finally making eye contact. your right hand picks at the ends of your dress anxiously, toji taking a stand to welcome you like a gentleman. it’s like slow fucking motion the closer you approach him, and when you’re inches apart, you can see the stillness on his face. he doesn’t smile, his face is almost unreadable. not sure if he’s upset with you for being late, or he’s just not one for emotions.
“hi,” the hairs on your skin stand from the deep baritone of his voice, visibly swallowing as you stare up at him, height difference making you dizzy.
“hi,” you blink like an innocent doe. he’s hovering over you and the waiter whom sets the menu down on the table, his chest almost touching you as he comes around to pull your chair out for you to sit, finally getting so close to the point where he could breathe in your sweet perfume, the peony and white musk scent has him forcing down a groan. he’s staring intently at your backside, dark hair going to the middle of your back in wild curls, a bit frizzy due to the humidity outside.
“can i get you anything to drink, miss?” the waiter addresses you, politely waiting for toji to move out the way.
why is your entire body on fire? no man has ever had this affect on you. his aura exudes something sinister, overtly masculine even. “u-um, yes please. can i just have a frozen sangria?”
“of course, i’ll be back with that while you decide on your meal.”
“thanks,” you smile sweetly, trying your very best to avoid complete eye contact. once the two of you are alone, you build up the courage to look at him again. he’s seated once more, leaning back into his chair with a left arm resting over the back of the chair with his legs comfortably spread. he liked to do that a lot. his eyes are low, head adjusted somewhat to the left as he observes you.
“good to finally see you,” he’s the first to speak, again. that fucking voice of his; raspy and dominant. how are you supposed to carry out a conversation without folding?
“y-yeah,” you clear your throat, sitting up straight after shyly clamping your hands between your legs and trying to hide like a porcupine. “i want to apologize again for running late. out of all days my phone decides to not ring my alarm. i rushed here as soon as possible. i hope you weren’t waiting too long.”
his lips began to rise into a soft smile, and that eases your nerves. no one would notice you’d rush to get ready. so naturally pretty with your face glowing from rose water and petroleum jelly, hair brushed out, lashes only curled with mascara, lips lined with black liner and smothered with gloss while your prescription glasses sit on the bridge of your nose. too cute.
“sweetheart, no need for the sorry’s. i understand.”
he’s not mad, thank fuck. “kay,” you smile back, tucking pieces of flown hair behind your ear. “did you order yet?”
“was waiting on you,” he replied. “though i kind of lost my appetite. i’m craving something . . . else. so, order anything you’d like.”
that was surely a double meaning. now, you’re not so sure if you had an appetite anymore. you couldn’t bare to eat in front of this man right now. when the waiter came back with your drink, you downed half of it, toji chuckling from your anxiousness. you needed the liquid courage before uttering another word towards the man who watched you with motive, intention. the intimidation brewing from his body is corrupting you. you order a simple caesar salad, nothing too fancy.
“oh! i printed out the document we have to go over.”
toji’s eyes trail to your hands that reach for your purse, acrylic nails painted a peony pink pulling out your notebook stuffed with an arrangement of papers as well as a pen. “guess we can call it like an nda, affidavit . . whatever. i’m sure you’re aware of the obvious on why. um, we can discuss boundaries within the bedroom . . . things we will or will not condone. a safe word is a must. if you don’t feel comfortable showing your face i’d blur it out, but given i do livestreams most of the time that’ll be impossible. so i’d suggest a mask, which i’m actually in to so if that’s something you’re willing to do . . “
toji nods as you continue to ramble, carefully analyzing everything you say, though, his mind begins to drift elsewhere. he still couldn’t get that damn livestream out of his mind. killing himself these past two days just thinking about how fucked out he needed you to be, buried deep and crying underneath him. the cute expressions on your face when you moaned his name so publicly, as if you dared him to see. how desperately you fucked yourself on that pathetic toy of yours from the very thought of him. your whines, the illicit way you stared at your reflection in the mirror beneath your sculpture of a body you rolled seductively. he shifts in his seat, attempting to conceal the stirring of hunger within him as you continue to talk. he doesn’t need a fucking contract. he’d fuck you good and wouldn’t tell a soul.
his expression is firm yet tinged with a hint of something different this time . . anticipation. “why do you film content?”
the unwavering intensity in his gaze causes you to cut your sentence short, mouth forming an ‘o’ as you ponder on his question. was he even listening? “wha—what do you mean?”
toji chuckles. “i mean, why do you film? is it your main source of income? do you enjoy submitting to hundreds of people? does it make you feel confident, make you feel good? why?”
that should’ve been something you prepared yourself to answer. most of the guys you filmed content with didn’t have personal answers to ask, nor did they care. they were simply there to have a good time and go about their lives. you came into this situation thinking that’s what toji wanted as well. now you’re getting a gut feeling it’s more than that. or maybe you’re just an over-thinker. the whole point of making an account on hinge was to find better people to connect with for work, but most of them never got the job done, and you were tired of faking an orgasm and boosting a man’s ego. something about this one though, you can feel that he’s willing to worship you.
“well, i actually have three jobs. hairstylist during the day, which i’m growing to lose passion for. i’m good with pottery so i make little things and sell them. and then as for filming content . . . it’s fast money. the economy is shit right now. minimum wage jobs aren’t cutting it. rent prices are horrifying. i want to fund a new life for myself. to travel more, and just be a girl.”
toji smiles, admiring you.
“bali has been on my mind as a place to reside. it’s always been a dream of mine to be somewhere tropical. less breathing in polluted air and eating foods they pump full of hormones. mexico and puerto rico are also on the list. i really need to dip my feet in some sand or something. i don’t know. it’s also kind of sexually liberating to be in my own bubble and enjoy myself in that way. i do it for no one but myself.”
toji sits up in his seat, taking a piece of ciabatta and smearing softened butter onto the breadpicked up a slice of bread and smeared some butter onto it. “i think that moving to a place like that is a good idea. there’s a lot of bullshit in the world that’s hard to run away from. if you feel like it’s what’s best for your mental and emotional being, then go for it. you seem like you’ve worked real hard your entire life. you deserve a break.”
the heat in your cheeks rise as he leans himself closer, guiding the bread to your lips, waiting for you to take a bite. you smile softly, sitting up a bit in your chair before taking a bite. toji watches intensely as you moan from the taste.
“isn’t it much better when it’s given by someone else?”
“yeah, it’s good. real good,” you swallow, licking your lips to rid the breadcrumbs, reaching for your glass of wine to take another sip. “i have most of my savings in tact, so my plan is to be out of here by next year.”
the unadulterated pull between the two of you threatens to consume him as he stares at you, his body almost painfully yearning for your touch, your taste, your everything. toji can no longer resist. he reaches out and gently cups your chin, his fingers gently yet firmly tilting your face up to meet his smoldering gaze when you dared to look away. “how ‘bout you take me with you.“
the entire scene switches, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, filled with a raw mixture of lust and vulnerability makes you fall shamelessly into his trance. you feel your heart patter against your chest, scanning his entire face with small indications of panic, and excitement. you’ve been dying for his touch all week. you pray he’s as good as he looks.
“what’s the catch?” you breathe inordinately.
toji smirks. “we get fake married or something and change our identities.”
you shake your head at his joke. “i need to see a ring first, mister.”
“mhm, you look like a marquise kinda girl,” he tongues his cheek, in deep thought. “go to bali. i pay, you enjoy life.”
pairs of lips are mere inches away, toji ghosting his softly amongst your own, yours parting to follow. you feel like you’re in space, the feeling extraterrestrial. surrounded by depths of nothingness with only the two of you existing.
“i. . no, i can’t let you do that,” you shake your head dismissively.
“you deserve it.”
“you don’t know me.”
“good. that’ll be the perfect occasion for us to spend more time together,” he concludes, softly pecking your lips to coax you into giving him what he needed. you’re stunned, unsure what to say, or to think. so, he doesn’t make you think.
“fuckin’ kiss me,” his voice drops to a husky whisper, filled with a raw mixture of desire and vulnerability, eyes flickering from the plumpness of your lips to your eyes. “can’t wait any fucking longer.”
the heat of his breath mingles with yours as his lips brush against your own in a hungry, fiery kiss. his mouth devours yours with an intensity that borders on primal, each movement filled with a desperate need to taste and consume everything you have to offer. his tongue slips past your parted lips, eagerly exploring the depths of your mouth as if seeking to memorize every inch of you.
you were drawn in fully now and you didn’t think you’d be able to pull away even if you wanted.
within the moment of your passionate kiss, as toji’s rough hand trailed to grasp your throat, your waiter begins to approach with your salad, eyes widening as he noticed how deeply, and somewhat aggressively your make out session was. practically swallowing each others faces. deciding to mind his business and turn the other way. he’d come back in a few minutes. toji breaks the kiss abruptly, his eyes gleaming with a hint of reluctance.
“damn this table,” he mutters, his gaze shifting towards the barrier separating the two of you. his breathing is ragged, body practically trembling with pent-up need. even so, he manages to pull himself together enough to maintain some semblance of composure.
he’s left you breathless, feeling something in your chest you’d never felt before, this attraction for him otherworldly. your lips are pouted, hands bawled into little fists levitating in front of your chest, as if you were begging for him to come back. when he begins to rise to his feet, you wonder where he’s going, eyes coming into immediate contact at the bulge growing tight in his jeans. you swallow, shifting your gaze up to the tall man that hovers over you possessively.
“go home, send me the address. i gotta handle a few business calls then i’ll be there at eleven.”
you hadn’t noticed the way your teeth sunk into your lower lip as you give him those damn puppy eyes, as if you’re so fascinated by him, almost scared of him to leave right now. toji grabs the pen resting between your little pink book, signing his signature on the indicated line on the bottom of the page for your gratification. after, he’s fishing for the brown leather wallet in his pocket to place down a hundred dollar bill on the table to cover the tab and the waiters tip. then, he leans down, lips gently brushing against your forehead in a tender kiss that sends a shiver down your spine. he lingers just a moment longer, as if reluctant to let go.
“see you later, angel.”
finally, and with that, he steps back, his eyes lingering on your form for a moment before he turns and walks away, the sound of his heavy footsteps echoes in your ears, leaving you alone with your thoughts and a lingering sense of anticipation for the evening to come. starstruck entirely.
𓇼
a rush of arousal burned within you like wildfire as you lay in your empty bed, yearning for the man who's been gone for only a few hours now. caressing your collarbone while chewing on your lip, your phone rests in your palm, excitement brewing for twenty minutes now ever since he texted you to let you know he was on the way. a black baby doll is adorned on your soft skin. ruffle lace details at the neckline and hem with a satin waistband tie at the back into a cute bow. matching mesh g-string panty, and floral patterns along the bust and hip area.
you took the time to curl your hair, reminding yourself to actually put your contacts in this time. also keeping makeup to a minimum with just mascara, a bit of blush, and some strawberry chapstick. skin moisturized in baby oil and spritzed with miss dior. . . waiting. the camera’s set up across from your bed, trying to distract yourself by engaging in conversation with your viewers. the comments were raging about how impatient they were to see something, but how did they think you felt? you could barely walk out of that restaurant without feeling your legs shake.
he intimidated you beyond measure, and god knows what he’s going to do to you when he gets here. it’s a fear and form of greed you’d never felt before.
“my fucking hands are shaking,” you giggle anxiously, smiling to yourself and shaking your hands before dramatically breathing out.
as you waited, you did little things to keep your buyers entertained, showing your ass every now and then as you cleaned your room like a cute maid. call it foreplay. sitting on your knees now become uncomfortable, so you aim for lowering to your tummy and stretching your arms ahead of you, ass raised up. as soon as you get comfortable, your head pops up from the sound of heavy footsteps surrounding the small area of your home. it’s him. you’d hope, leaving the door unlocked so it’d be easier for him to enter.
“oh, fuck—y’all,” the anxiety is even worse now, mentally preparing yourself with steady breaths and shoving your face into the bed to scream happily. the emotions are bipolar. “he’s coming up.”
toji steps closer to your slightly cracked open door, pushing it open wide to see you. his demeanor nothing short of serious when he gets a good look at you, hearing you yap at your camcorder with his hands stuffed into his jean pockets. he rests his right shoulder against the frame of the door, staring at you, admiring. his boots hit along the floor the closer he gets to you, and that cute ass you had perched up. the lights in your room are dimly lit, citrus candles spread around and led lights from your vanity illuminating the area. the vibe is nice, he likes it. like he likes you.
you continue to speak to your livestream and pretend he wasn’t there, trying to ignore your heartbeat picking up. the tension is in the air. you tried to steady your breathing as you continue to ramble about nonsense; animal crossing, sims you wanted to recreate and purposely wicked whim them. anything to distract yourself from the sparks shivering through your body. you prod the inside of your cheek trying to bite back a grin when you finally feel his hands on your hips, eyes watching the chat go wild from the brooding man behind you. what makes it all the more hot is that he hasn’t spoken a word, feeling like an intruder. stalking, waiting.
“so yeah, i’m thinking about dying my hair red. i feel like my face is kinda full to have a silk press so i’ll look . . off? maybe p-pin ‘urls,” a wave of pleasure shocks through you when you feel him press the outline of his dick against your cunt, dragging you back to air-fuck you once or twice. a few times. for the tease of it. his fingertips lightly flowing along the curves and contours of your body, your hips being the most sensitive. gasping and twitching from the feel, the thong you wore barely shielding how wet you were.
your breath became heavier, and you found it harder to continue speaking. you felt like moans would slip out of if you continued to react to his touch, the heat between you two rising. you were drawn fully into him. the reaction from him gave you a confidence boost, a slick smile showing on your face. while his body speaks of his own growing need, he remains a silent observer, his intense gaze watching as you maintain, or try, your playful conversation with the camera.
“i gotta admit something,” you smile into your hair that falls angelically around the frame of your face. his form, silhouetted behind you, takes on an ominous yet seductive presence. even though he remains hidden from view, his yearn is palpable, eyes locked on you as if he could consume you with a single glance.
“i fucked myself thinking of him,” a jolt of electricity runs down toji’s spine as he recollects the image. a low, involuntary groan escapes his throat as his grip on you tightens. “those of you who don’t remember. it was really, really good.”
that’s the final trigger. in seconds, a rough palm strikes the flesh of your ass, causing the cutest squeak to emit from you. toji’s wrapping his other fist around the softness of your hair and pulling you back to his hard chest. his cologne is strong, enrapturing even. your hand reaches beside you to catch his wrist in your grip, feeling the coldness of his expensive watch while he’s busy locking your jaw still and pressing his lips beneath your ear.
“really?” the tone is condescending, and as you nod frantically, pushing your ass back to feel him more, all you can hear is the unraveling of his belt. slowly removing it, the sound of the leather rubbing against the buckle and his pants. the anticipation fills you at an alarming pace. “i knew that, angel.”
how? wait, did he fucking watch the live you made that night? your legs nearly go weak at the possibility, sheer embarrassment consuming you. he wasn’t meant to see that. yeah, you told him about it. but him seeing that, then having lunch with you like nothing happened is crazy work. he noticed you’re frozen, chuckling darkly behind you.
“relax, doll. i can pretend i didn’t, ‘n you can show me all over again.”
he grabs your wrists, pining them behind your back with a rush of power fueling him, crossed hands sitting on your ass.
“this okay, baby?” he scans the side of your face for approval, using the smooth leather to bond them together. you hum, lips bitten and nodding obediently.
the look on your face in the camera is so worth the thousands of views from people who were just as desperate as he was to see you submit. your hands wriggle to touch him, laying your head on his shoulder and biting your lip as his teeth graze from your shoulder, to your collarbone, and your neck. your body’s completely on fire, and he makes it worse when he gently shoves you forward to fall on your face, back arched and ass high for his view, and theirs.
toji stared down at you as you remained there, fully surrendering yourself for the taking. his larger body leans over yours, fingers grabbing your chin to force your mouth to open. toji brushes his lips along yours, your desperate mouth sinking into him, feeling that same spark you felt earlier during lunch in your chest. he deepened the kiss to give you what you wanted, easily reading you, his tongue ravaging your mouth with his waist grinding into the shape of your ass. the kiss is so wet it has you mewling like a cat in heat, losing your breath.
“give me a safe word, hm?” toji sucks on his lower lip, the arousal in his eyes ruining you. a heavy hand rubs circles on your ass before hitting it again, another cute sound leaving that pretty mouth you had.
brushing your cheek along your bed set, dark curls dancing around your face and a pout on your lips, you whimper, “strawberry.”
“mhm,” your stomach flips when you felt his hand drift between your inner thigh, toji’s tongue skidding over your lips the same time his fingers apply pressure to your clit, rubbing in circles after he pulls your panties to the side, your babydoll resting pretty on top of the rolls on your back. your fists are balled tightly in your restraints, widening your mouth to suck on his tongue before giving him a deep kiss. the image on your face is pure dizziness. acting like your fucked dumb while barely being fucked. he couldn’t wait to see you crumble.
you squirm under his touch, breath growing short and shaky, toji maintaining eye contact with you dangerously. he’s big on it, and it makes you shy, yet brave enough to endure it.
“you hear yourself, girl?” toji hisses, pecking your lips hard, his fingers coated with your slick the more he rubbed. you whine, arching your ass even closer to his hand. “you’re so needy for me, it’s cute.”
it’s ridiculous that you can’t even speak, him turning you into nothing but a whiny, whimpering sub. “you’re desperate for my touch, for my tongue.” he whispered, his voice growing even rougher as his own need grew.
“mmm, yes. need it so bad,” you pout, mouth gaping after he spanks your clit lightly. “fuck, please eat it, baby.”
“i will good girl.”
he didn’t hesitate for another second, sliding behind you with one knee pressed into the bed and his big hands holding you still, spreading your cheeks further apart and cussing under his breath from how fucking cute your pussy was. fat, and glistening in your juices, clit hiding between your folds giving him something to search for. “g’na fuckin’ kill me, angel. pretty fuckin’ pussy you got.”
you scoot up as much as you can, hands still bound behind your back, wanting to cry from the inability to move, but loving that he had you at his mercy. his hair covers his eyes and he’s submerged into you, pressing his mouth to your pussy in a sweet kiss, like he’s knocking politely, before running his thick, long tongue over you slowly. a groan resounded devilishly, toji lapping at your dripping clit, tongue hot and your toes can do nothing but curl.
he’s slow and deliberate, enjoying the sounds and reactions he was getting out of you as you writhed and quivered under his ministrations. your pussy and his mouth makes up the loudest voice in the room, so fucking sweet and wet he’s salivating over you. spanking you, taking his time to devour you as he swallows your cunt whole, tongue gliding from your clit all the way to your hole. occasionally dipping his tongue into you to fuck you like that. your eyes cross, a broken cry making him lose it.
“keep bouncing that ass back, baby. fuck, fuck my face, angel,” he’s hitting you again, and you can’t take it, shifting your thighs to roll your ass back onto his gorgeous face. you’re panting like an animal, jaw dropping as he keeps his mouth on your clit, sucking it hard and groaning into your cunt, the vibrations traveling up your spine.
“oh . . god, oooh god,” the gasp in your throat became high pitched, toji licking you faster when he sees you giving your utmost effort. continuing his onslaught on your sensitive clit, swollen and satiating his taste buds. his fingers dug into your thighs, lowering himself completely to sit on his knees before you, rocking you back on his face as he eats it, unrelenting. sucking, licking, slurping, drowning his tongue inside of you . . . damn, it’s fucking good.
“c-cumming,” he can barely hear you as you stuff your face into the bed, toji’s head bouncing as you settle your feet on his shoulders and rock back on his face even quicker, groaning. “don’t stop, don’t s-stop, babyyy.”
“mhm hmm,” he’s moaning into your pussy, kissing and tonguing you down until you finally burst, your hands in their constraint balling into fists, getting the chance to latch onto his black hair once he pushes you flat on your stomach to bury his face completely between your ass and thighs. “let it out, baby.”
his chin glistened from your juices, toji groaning the rougher you tugged at his scalp, dick jumping in his jeans he needed to unravel soon. when you cum, you do this thing where you squeal and gasp at once, and he swears it’s the cutest thing he’s ever fucking heard. lifting his face, he licks his lips proudly, wiping his chin and patting your ass to watch it shake in his palm. you were a lovely display beneath him, and he couldn’t help but feel a sense of ownership over you.
he reached down and traced a finger along the length of your trembling leg, his dominant presence still overwhelming. he brings his hand to the back of your neck which you arched into his touch, his eyes darkening at your silent plea. “you want more?”
“nn, yea,” a breathless giggle falls from you, toji dragging you to sit at your knees by the grip on your neck and around your chest with his forearm, back hitting his chest again, and your eyes come into contact with the camera, almost forgetting it was there.
“show them what i did to your pussy, angel. let them see how perfect you are,” toji whispers, tapping at your knees to help you sit on your behind.
“okay,” the words are small again, because that’s how he makes you feel. once you sit, you raise your knees to your chest, toji lifting your babydoll to show your soft tummy and the pink lights from your vanity mirror glowing on the angles and curves of your body. you look like the finest art.
it’s liberating seeing yourself like this, a sense of relief washing over you when he begins to unloose the belt, humming elatedly and arching into him, your periwinkle painted toes twinkling in the air playfully. toji laughs at you, your hand coming to your cunt to cover it out of fake shyness, rolling to lay on your side and giggling to yourself. you really did know how to play a role, or maybe you’re just naturally silly.
toji unfastened his button before drifting his zipper down, thick thighs spread and arms bulky as he kept them in fists into the bed, tilting his head in your direction as he sat beside you, body taking up half the bed. you sit on your knees next to him, your hands running across his stomach and lifting up his shirt, toji licking his lips when your nails delicately scratch at his hips. you moan when his hand comes into contact with your hair, your nails digging into the broadness of his thigh.
as he guided your head down, you could feel the heat coming off of his body. you could smell the unique scent of masculinity wafting off of him. the feeling of his fingers running through your hair sent tingles down your spine, his touch tender and affectionate despite his dominating demeanor. your chest fluttered when his thumb touched your lower lip, your breath stuttering and your body quivering, a heat rising in your core all over. you felt the need for him grow stronger, pulling your lip downward. he shifted his fingers and tilted your chin up further, exposing your throat and neck to him. then he leans over, his free hand coming up to cup the back of your head as his mouth latches onto your neck. pressing light kisses along the sensitive skin, his tongue grazing out and your skin pricks with fire.
“can’t stop tasting you,” he grunts, his lips and tongue on your throat licking hard, driving you insane with need. his hand holding the back of your neck in a possessive manner, keeping you in place as his mouth explored your sensitive skin.
“toji. .” your voice is weak, feeling your inner thighs drown in a puddle of your arousal. “wanna suck it.”
“i’m sorry, what was that?” he hums.
“don’t tease,” you roll your eyes and pout.
“mhm,” he lets out a little grunt as his eyes rake over you, his breath catching slightly as he stares at you. he runs his hand down to your waist, gripping fervently. “so pretty,” he murmurs.
“thank you,” you whisper, feeling a strong rush of affection for him. “you’re so handsome,” you say, your voice low and tender.
“g’na give it a good kiss, baby? real good?” he hisses, your hand pulling at his jeans to sit lower on his sharp hips, letting his dick free and watching it with a watered mouth as it sat against his tummy. heavy, thick, two veins protruding on either side. you fucking knew he was big. bless your intuition.
“yes, want it,” you plead.
a low growl escaped his throat. “show me you want it then,” he purrs, his eyes growing darker with desire and his grip on your hip tightening.
the salivation in your mouth gave you just what you needed to do the job, widening your mouth to accommodate his size, drooling over his dick as you pull him in as deep as you could to start. half of him enclosed by the warmth of your mouth and instantly toji moans from the feel, your cheek sucking in while you guide your head up and down, keeping your hands to yourself, one on his thigh for balance. your eyes are closed to focus, humming and dragging your mouth slow to make him feel it all. toji catches himself knocking his head back, pulling the sheets between his fingertips and scrunching his brows together, stomach caving in.
he can hear you slurp and suck at him needily, moaning around him and riding the air with your ass, spit gliding down to the base of his dick as your tongue sticks out to drag along the under of his shaft, bobbing your head and licking at him. something about giving him head in specific felt intoxicating. maybe it’s the sounds he makes; guttural yet whiny. the desperation begs to tug at his throat, shifting his hips blindly and cussing under his breath. eventually, his fingers find their way back to your scalp, toji sitting up and entangling both hands into your hair, face curated in pleasure with eyes wired shut and a gaped jaw.
“shit, ꒰♡꒱. that’s fuckin’ good, doll,” toji grunts, your moans around him encompassing him to briefly detangle a hand to spank against your ass in clear indulgence. “damn.”
your hand couldn’t help but travel to touch him, wrapping your hand around the base of his dick to stroke your hand according to the pace your mouth drags. that gravitational wave in his abdomen hit, a deep ‘your suckin’ it so good’ fleeing from his mouth followed by another harsh spank and a steady tug at your scalp to push you down only enough to follow your rhythm. when he hits the back of your throat, you force yourself to hold him there for a few seconds, purposely constricting your throat to hear him moan for you again, and again. his sounds addicting.
toji chuckles from how good you’re doing, raising your head to breathe before swallowing only the tip while stroking the remainder, your salvia being enough lubricant to quickly move your wrist. twisting and tugging while keeping it mostly on the head of his cock, the sensitive spot your toy to play with as you give teasing kitty licks, two hands covering him now.
picking your head up momentarily, you stare into his eyes with your siren ones, low and dangerous. pulling at his dick while you bite your lips before kissing him, mewling when he shoves his tongue into your mouth, pulling your body closer by your ass, the other grabbing the side of your face he practically swallowed into his own. the kiss is feverish, something straight out of a movie. he’s highly infatuated with you, tasting himself off of you with the mixture of yourself. toji sucks on your lower lip, and you find yourself positioning your thigh over his to sit and grind on his leg. you had enough of the foreplay, you needed him to fuck you.
“fuck me,” a whimper escapes, pressing your body down harder onto him, hand still stroking at him, that fucking voice of yours driving him mad. he doesn’t think he’ll last if you keep it up. “toji. . . toji.”
“stop begging,” he shuts it down quickly, the sound of his boots hitting the floor as he kicks them off exciting you. of course you couldn’t hide the smile, feening innocence as you pet at his jeans to help him remove them.
he's only in his black shirt now, your eyes following how his muscles swallowed the material, showcasing every sharp cut of his upper body. he made you dizzy, truly. that slit on the side of his mouth curving with his mouth as he smirks at you for getting lost in your cute little dream land.
“focus, love,” toji reels you back in, his hand on your lower back to arch your chest into his, dragging you to straddle him. if he could see the blush on your face he’d see that you were red as a tomato, his dick sitting right beneath you and you can’t help but shudder. “need you to lift your hips, help daddy out.”
“kay,” you nod like a damn bobble head, laying your hands on his shoulders and balancing yourself on your tippy toes, wrapping your arms around his neck for extra security. toji’s large arm his thrown around your waist to keep you locked to him, both of your body heat scorching.
he catches a hold of his dick, pumping it twice before he’s rubbing the fat tip against your drenched opening, collecting your flow before a soft gasp emits past your lips when you feel him gently enter, sinking you down carefully, little by little. the sensation from the stretch is . . like a fantasy. your foreheads are touching, breaths mingling as he removes his hand to balance the two of you on the bed, leaning back somewhat for your comfortability.
when you think he’s fully apart of you, that thought is knocked down the minute he utters, “c‘mon, girl. you gotta lot more to take.”
“oh my god,” the shock is out of, well, shock. he feels really good already, it’s gonna be hell if you handle any more. embedding your nails into his clothing, chin resting between the crook of his neck while you ground your ass back to make it easier for him to slip completely in. the two of you groan in sync, toji’s arm tightening around your waist from how tight you felt.
the more you rock, slow, steady, it fucks the both of you up. holding tightly onto one another while toji lets you take your time, the heavy breathing and hearts beating rapidly is fucking poetic. one might call this act making love. once you drop your ass entirely, that pressure in your sweet spot causes you to scream out softly, losing balance and sitting on your knees, holding onto him with an unexpected whine.
“shit, baby, you alright?” he’s immediately checking in on you, bringing you up and make eye contact, hands holding either side of your face and scanning for signs. pushing away the fact that you’re convulsing around his dick and trying his best not to fuck you hard. yet, at least.
again, you can’t even speak. your mouth is wide open, nodding and breathing heavily, shifting your hips and grind onto him, flexing your ass when you arch your back deeper before lifting halfway and slamming yourself down. toji chokes, face copying yours as he grips onto the sheets and places his arm back around you, helping you lift yourself.
“you feel . . really good, baby. stuffing me full,” you moan, toji grunting and yanking you up and down faster, losing his patience now. it blew out the fucking window the minute he slipped inside you. he fixates on the sound of your pussy sliding and swallowing his dick, the slick making his tongue water for the taste all over. you’re so fucking sweet it’s insane.
“yeah?” he lets out a low, guttural groan and grips your hips even harder, his breaths coming out in deep gasps. “fuck me like you fucked that toy, thinking of me.”
that makes you smile, that insecurity of him seeing that video earlier disappearing as you take both of your small hands and wrap them around his throat, using your weight to push his body so he falls onto his back, his hands cupping the curves under your ass cheeks. toji usually isn’t one for submission, but he’s been thinking for a while about trying new shit, and a pretty girl like you choking and fucking him was only the start. you see the look in his eyes, and you feel heat sweltering inside of you even more, relishing the fact that you are the one in control, applying more pressure to his neck, loving the way his breath hitches.
“you want me to fuck you just like that?” you lick your lips and grind teasingly, the dangerous swirl of your hips making his head sink further into the bed.
“want you to fuck me like that, angel. gimme a show.”
and you won’t deny his wish. positioning yourself back on the tips of your toes, his hands are smoothing underneath your thighs, clutching on either sides as you with his eyes going dark, his hips bucking. he can barely string a thought together, his mind completely consumed by the sensations you’re sending through him. your pussy takes it all while you pounce your body above him, rolling your waist each time you dip your ass down and meet his thighs.
“fuck, you feel so good,” he grunts, his voice thick with pleasure, eyes never leaving yours before his voice rasps out, “keep going. fuck me for real. like you want it. it’s yours.”
you let out a strangled gasp, body jerking and mind almost slipping away, the pleasure he’s giving you overwhelming and consuming you completely. his hands on your body clench harder, the warmth from his body on yours killing you.
“just like that,” his hands move at their own possession now, slamming down on your ass repeatedly to bruise your skin, the hits vibrating straight to your clit and it’s making you drunk. your eyes scroll back into your skull, his appraisal driving you to work for it faster.
“t-toji, i’m so wet for you,” you gasp in shock from the slickness between you two. “look what you did to me. you slide in and out so easily.”
“f-fuck, doll. you’re killing me talkin’ like that,” he lets out a strangled gasp at your words, voice ragged and eyes filled with need. “you like it that much, baby?”
“y-yes!” a squeal sounds from you, bouncing heavier than before, your voice getting caught in your throat from the impact. you clutch any part of his skin you can grab, losing yourself in the way he fills you. “i love your dick, baby. makes me feel prettier.”
hazy eyes filled with pleasure admire your features, fucked out already when he still has so much he wanted to do to you. give you what you deserve. a smirk tugs at his lips, sitting up and leaning in close, missing the skin contact. his voice low and rough as he says, “you look prettier when you’re sitting on my dick.”
“yeah,” you drunkenly nod. “s’mine.”
toji raises a brow with amusement. “it can be yours. when you cum on it real hard.”
wanting him even closer to you, you keep only one hand around his neck, placing the other on his forearm and pressing your chest to his entirely as you gyrate your hips and tease his neck, hovering over his skin with your mouth and teeth before you leave little love-bites on his skin. toji guides your hips in a circular motion, the simple switch up making you gasp and whine into his ear, hitting that spot repeatedly.
“god, baby,” you feel his guidance, his grip on your hips firm as he moves you. you ride against him, the friction on your clit making you whimper weakly, his deep voice in your ear making your body shake, feeling another orgasm develop. “i love it. s’fucking me so good.”
“see you movin’ just like you did for me on that mirror,” he wraps his hand around your neck, squeezing firmly. your eyes lock, yours clouded by arousal, his with an agenda. “fuckin’ yourself like that . . ima fuck you real bad for that,” toji hissed, swiping his tongue across his lower lip before aggressively smacking your ass. “i feel that fuckin’ pussy squeezing me tighter. if you’re g’na cum then do it on me. gush all on it.”
the more your body reacts to his praise, and sprinkles of degradation, the faster your orgasm approaches you, washing over you hard as your body spasmes from the intensity of it. your teeth sink into his shoulder as you scream, riding out your high, squeezing hard on his arms. toji kisses your temple, keeping you close as he falls back and lays on his side while turning you to face your camera you’d both forgotten about, still did.
“you did so well,” the kisses continue around your face while your brains on autopilot, his hand clasping around your neck as he presses his hot chest against your back. his kisses are so aggressive it makes you feel small and wanting to obey. you jump when he spanks you, moaning weakly into your shoulder with your arms halfway hanging off the bed.
toji goes lift your right leg to adjust himself behind you, dick achingly hard and covered in your juices, slipping back inside of you fully before angling your knee towards your tummy, keeping a hand locked under the bend of your knee, your skin smooth to the touch. you smell good too. everything about you besotted him. your hand touches his face, tugging it closer to the point where his nose smushed against your cheek, dark hair clouding your eyesight as his big frame overtakes yours.
“you’re gonna kill me,” you whisper, eyes focused on each other, a giggle creeping up.
“not you,” he whispered back, rolling his waist back and forth, grinding deeper into you. the plush of your ass molding against his sharp hips. his lips brush on your neck as he kisses and nibbles at your sensitive skin. your hands roam over your body, touching and exploring every inch of yourself as his lips trail down your collarbone, darkly watching as your hand presses on your clit. “her.”
as he possessively holds you in place, he’s prepared you enough before he’s fucking you hard, knocking the wind from your throat completely. a hard gasp falls past your lips as toji slams his hips against your ass, knitting his brows together, squeezing his eyes shut while his mouth falls open. the utter silence both of your voices held at the moment was more powerful than the rough interaction of your skin. your eyes a ghost white as he pounds his dick into you hard. when a noise is made, it’s from equal parts, syncing your eager moans.
“ooh, fuck baby. you’re taking it,” he huskily whispers into your ear, his words punctuated by the way he continues to move into you. “sucking me so deep. m’not going nowhere.”
“to-ji,” his name is broken down by the harsh pounds he fucks you with, whining and moaning in his entrapment. your vision gone. “i love the way you fuck me. you fuck me so good.”
he fucks like he’s not letting up, his body pushing you deeper into the mattress, the grip around your neck remains tight, the feeling of his ownership only growing more intense. his body is hovering over yours now, digging deep as he can to fuck you real good, to make himself feel it all. your body remains to the side, only half twisted as he drops your leg and pushes his weight into you so your stomach is close to grazing the bed.
“s’too much, fuck . . i, i—” the words are caught in your throat from the overstimulation. breathing heavy, tears begin to fill your sockets, whining his name loudly in his face like you’d lost your mind for good this time. this pleasure was something you hadn’t felt in a long time. it’s everything you needed and more.
toji shushes you, kissing your nose as he grips your face, big hand almost covering it whole. “you like when daddy takes control? you like when he tells you what to do?”
toji will admit, you’ve got him fucking spent. it’s been a long time since he’s had a woman submit and cry under him, and you do all those things well. the gorgeous image on your face, to the salacious movement of your body. the softness of your skin and the equal relation of your voice. capturing and captivating him. you’d think he was on drugs the way he was talking. high off his ass from your pussy. his lips gently brush over your ear. your eyes flutter, his voice attacking your clit, and you swear it makes it gush even more, soaking the sheets underneath your ass. “when he makes you his? you like being my good girl, pretty?”
he knows you can’t speak anymore, but you’re still interactive with your body language. the slur of your nonexistent words to the way you try to roll your ass back to fuck him back . . but he’s got you trapped. even the tears falling down your face from overwhelming pleasure. he knows you’re okay, asking for a safe word prior for your protection. you’re a big girl, he knows you can handle it.
“nnng,” you can’t stop trembling, gasping for air and sobbing in his face. toji places his forehead on yours, looking into your eyes and nodding, cooing. you are fucked dumbed. toji hisses, hitting your ass and pausing momentarily to look between where you two collide, an ‘oh my god’ faltering out. he’s as gone as you are.
“you so fuckin’ creamy, girl,” toji drags out a frustrated hum, getting annoyed by how good your pussy is. you’re going to become a problem.
“please,” you don’t even know what you’re saying it for. do you need him to stop, do you want more, or are you just completely fucked out you’re saying anything that’s coming to your head? that butterfly feeling is back in your stomach, as well as a foreign one near your clit, knowing exactly what’s going to happen. “toji, m’ g’na c-cummm. oh my god, babyy.”
your hiccups and sobs only urge him to fuck you even harder, loving how the breath literally jumps out of your throat in shock.
“cryin’ on this dick. fuck, you got me going crazy,” he really doesn’t want to cum yet, he needed to fuck you in every way imaginable. but he knows you need a break, to breathe for sure. he wanted to edge himself so that when he finally came, it’d be the best fucking orgasm of his life. your moans are clawing at his soul, so filthy and dulcet. you’re making it really fucking difficult to obtain that.
toji finds himself slamming his palm over your mouth to bury them in a way, but you’re so damn loud it’s getting to him. ‘fuck fuck fuck’ he’s cussing repeatedly in a whispered hush as he fucks you as hard he possibly can. his hand doesn’t even work, because you’re consuming him wholly and the minute he feels that build up, he pulls out to cum and you’ve drenched the sheets as you squirt. an almost blood curdling scream surrounds the room, your body rapidly trembling as your mouth falls open in utter shock, gasping, whining, whimpering, moaning his fucking name while he moaned yours. toji nutting up the entire side of your body, wrist twisting as he holds you body still, mouth drawn open.
his hand reaches over to unclamp your legs, heavy hand rubbing your pussy to stimulate you further, your back arching and head sinking into your pillow, crying out. he watches your hand flail to grip his wrist as your wetness continues to spurt out of you like water.
“strawberry!” toji listens to you weep, choking on your cries and pleads. finally having enough.
“holy s-shit,” you’re laughing while also trying to catch your breath, not believing that just happened. he can tell by the shock in your face that you’ve never had it happen before, or that much.
“damn,” he laughs along with you, smacking your outer thigh before smashing his lips to yours in a deep kiss, gliding your tongues together while his hands massaged every part of your body after allowing you to lay on your back. caressing and soothing you to calm you down. “gonna grab a rag.”
you pout when he goes to stand, already missing the disconnect as you lay empty on your . . messy bed. absolutely disgusting you two, hawk puth! one things for sure, you can’t keep that wide ass smile off your face. he comes back into the room, one of your pink towels wrapped around his midsection covering up that demon of a dick he carried. toji smirks down at you, grabbing your ankle and tugging you down to the edge of the bed before he’s taking a warm rag that smelt of your dove beauty bar to wipe what he painted on you. you swallow your lower lip into your mouth, watching with hooded eyes as he drags the rag sensually along ever part of your skin. you flinch when it comes to contact with your cunt, toji kissing your inner thigh with a ‘sorry’. he admires the curves of your body even more, kissing your ankle adorned with a silver anklet after he finishes.
“how you feeling?” he asks.
“i’m more than perfect.”
he hums. “you’re something else.”
“i was good?” you ask seriously, batting your lashes shyly.
toji stares at you as if you’re deadass. “don’t do that. you know you were. you didn’t hear me? i fuck you deaf?”
that makes you roll your eyes, but not before giggling. “hate you.”
“you won’t after i tell you i got chinese in the kitchen,” he winks, the light in your eyes making his heart swell. “c’mon, sexy.”
you sit up, gasping. “i knew i fucking smelt that shit when you came in. i thought it was outside!”
“nah, i realized i didn’t eat shit at the restaurant earlier so i decided to get us both something. did you even eat your salad?”
“i did, had to after you dropped a whole hundred,” you shake your head. “how’d you know i liked chinese?”
toji blinks. “baby, we literally talked half of this week. for hours. i have good memory.”
that slip of a nickname outside of sex warmed your chest, burying your face in your hair to hide your shyness. “you’re right.”
“don’t hide now, i’ve seen it all,” he chuckles, tickling the bottom of your foot.
“oh, whatever!” you chuck one of your plushies at him, half of them had fallen to the floor. toji gets up to grab your robe he saw hanging on the bathroom door, draping it around you as you stood.
he kisses your forehead and you walk ahead of him into the kitchen, screeching when he hit and gripped your ass, the two of you forgetting about the livestream altogether as you warmed up the food, poured a glass of wine and reminisced about what just happened.
angelbwrry live : 1M viewers.
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© 𝒮𝒯𝟦𝑅𝐵𝒲𝑅𝑅𝒴! all rights reserved. please do not repost, steal, or modify my work simply because it is mine. stealing isn't cute. i'll ruin your life ♡ 
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tvrningout-a · 1 year
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hello, " i will boil in rage until the day i die. "
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meet, " everyone's traumatized, bitch! let's go get you some fruit! "
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haveihitanerve · 3 months
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Four Times the Batkids Forget They're Adopted, and The One Time Damian Forgets He Isn't
It had started off as a joke, as most things do, and Dick meant nothing behind it, really. It was amusing to him, actually, to tell his coworkers things about Batman and pass it off as his father. “Oh my dad? Yeah hes not big on talking. He loves showing me he cares though.” (this was, of course, in reference to Batman doing three back flips and a kick split when Nightwing had patrolled with him the other day, a classic Nightwing move) But it soon…went deeper. Dick stopped making jokes out of it, and actually began listing things about Bruce. About his Dad. It didn't help that his police friends were actually interested. “So did you and the old man do anything fun over the weekend?” Dick thought back to how he had wanted to surprise Bruce by stopping by for dinner and instead had ended up in the sewer eating granola bars on a stakeout for killer croc, who had escaped. Again. “Oh yeah we had a picnic.” Dick nodded, smiling at Randy. “Yeah. He’s, he’s kinda bad at remembering when to eat a meal on time and all that.” Dick laughed. “Its something I share too. Must be genetics.” He rolled his eyes. Randy laughed, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “I hear you. My old man smoked all the live long day. I try to keep it down, but that addiction gene is just strong eh?” Dick chuckled. “Yeah I guess.” His phone buzzed in his pocket and he waved to Randy, turning to tug it out. It was one, simple message from Babs. “Ur adopted genius. What genes.” 
Jason didn't even know how they had gotten on the topic. But here they were. “Yes. I got my mothers hair, of course, but I get my temper from my father.” Artemis was saying. “I have parents.” Bizarro grunted. Roy laughed, smacking him on the shoulder. “Well you certainly didn't get Kal’s looks buddy. But you do have his killer hair.” Starfire laughed. “That is true. I, for one, share my parents hair and have my fathers powers. But truly the best gene I was given were my mothers eyes.” They all turned to Jason. “What about you?” Roy asked. Jason scratched the back of his neck. “Uh, I used to have my dads eyes but um after the pit y'know,” He waved to his now green eyes. “And actually I have my dads dark black hair, and he’s graying early too, which might be why my white streak is so prominent.” They nodded in agreement. “But yeah, hes actually a little taller than me so maybe I’ll still grow a few inches but uh yeah. I don't… remember my mother enough to talk about her.” “Dang man. I wish we could meet your dad.” Roy murmured, laying a comforting hand on Jason’s shoulder. “Then we could really compare. I mean-” He laughed. “You sound like his carbon copy.” Jason frowned at his friend. “What do you mean? You’ve met Bruce?” They stared at him. “Jason,” Artemis began slowly. “Aren't you adopted?” 
Tim hunched over the information form, eyes straining to read the small print. His hand reached up to stifle a yawn and he settled for a sigh instead. It was late, but Tim needed to get the form done before he went to bed, otherwise everything would be far too stressful in the morning. He reached over and grabbed his coffee mug, a dark black cup that had a red R painted on it poorly. Bruce had made it for him a few years ago when he had first become Red Robin. He sipped it, staring down at the medical form. “Gods I hate having to do this.” He muttered, but reluctantly grabbed the thick medical binder Alfred had obligingly gotten for him when he had asked for medical records of the family. Tim did not under any circumstances, want to have to sit at the doctors office the next day and somehow lie his way through all the medical questions relating to his family history. He didn't have the time nor patience for it, and it was crucial he was given proper medical advice what with his missing spleen. “Any history of heart issues Bruce?” Tim muttered, flipping back past Martha and Thomas to Bruce’s great great great grandfather. “Nope, guess not.” Tim was halfway through the form when he realized the blood coursing through his veins wasn't Bruce’s. 
Steph rubbed a hand across her belly, staring at the monitor. “Your baby looks good Ms. Brown. They’re at the proper stage. Due in about two months. We’ll see you back here for your next check up.” “thank you doctor.” Steph murmured, sliding off the bed and dressing quickly before hurrying out to her car. The car door slammed shut behind her and she breathed, pressing her forehead to the steering wheel. Her phone buzzed. She lifted it and pressed it to her ear, hitting accept. “Hello?” “hey Steph.” Bruce’s voice vibrated through the phone. “How was your doctors appointment?” Steph gave a bitter laugh. “Everything looks good. The baby will come in about two months.” “Thats good. Thats real good.” Steph nodded, eyes closed. “You doing okay Stephanie?” Bruce asked, voice soft. “I don't know.” her voice broke and she squeezed her eyes shut, fighting tears. “I just- I’m so scared Bruce. So scared.” Bruce hummed comfortingly through the phone. “I know Steph. Its scary. And parenting, its hard.” Steph coughed out a watery chuckle. “Was that a hit?” She muttered, rubbing a hand over her face. Bruce chuckled. “No. Baby it wasn't. And just think, you’ll get to see all the firsts I didn't get with you. Their first steps. Their first wave. You might even get to hear them say mama before i kidnap- i mean adopt him or her.” Steph laughed again, and it sounded less watery. “Yeah. Well, when do kids start walking?” She asked in interest, sniffing and sitting up straight again. Bruce hummed. “Well i started walking almost immediately, but Im special.” Steph laughed. “Of course.” “alfred said i first started talking when I was around thirteen months old, and Talia said Damian was walking by ten, but she could have been lying.” Steph nodded. “Tell me more.” She whispered. Bruce obliged, happy to distract her. “Oh and whats probably going to be your favorite, babies, or at least I did, start laughing at around four months.” “laughing?” Steph gasped. “Oh Brucie!!! Thats too funny! Little chubby baby you, the future batman, laughing!” She cooed. She could almost feel his eye roll through the phone and stifled her laugh. “So yeah..” Bruce finished. “You should expect your kiddo to start walking around then. And laughing probably sooner. I would have if you'd be in my life at that time.” Steph was quiet. “Thank you B.” He hummed. “Anytime Steph. I’ll always be here to help you.” “Wait wait wait-” a new voice joined in the background of Bruce. “Are you guys serious right now?” Steph identified it as Jason. “What?” Bruce asked puzzled. “B, Stephs adopted. Her kid is as likely to walk at the same time you did as when she did!” 
“Damian?” “Go away Drake.” Damian called back, riffling through the papers. “Dami?” Tim poked his head into his younger brothers room. “Oh hey kiddo. Whatcha doing?” “I am busy Timothy.” Damian countered in annoyance, shoving the box back under his bed and moving to his desk. “What are you looking for?” Tim asked puzzled. Damian ignored him. “Dami.” “Go away Timothy.” Tim crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. “Come on Baby Bird. Tell me.” Damian shook his head, covering the blush on his cheeks by poking behind the desk. “Damian.” Tim’s hand was suddenly on his back. Damian jumped. Tim held up his hands in surrender. “Just tell me. I’m sure I can help you find it.” Damian sighed in acceptance, cheeks pink. “I have.. Lost my adoption papers.” He muttered, staring at the floor. But Tim didn't laugh or ridicule him. In fact, when he looked up, his brother seemed thoughtful. “Well i know me and dick and jason have them hung over our beds…” His gaze drifted to the very clearly empty space above Damians bed. “I know.” Damian jerked his head in a nod. “That is why I wished to find it.” Tim nodded in understanding. “Well, lets go look in the den. Thats where Alfred keeps all the legal stuff.” Damian trailed after his brother to the living room and watched as he opened the cabinet and pulled out three boxes. “You look through this one, I’ll search these two.” Tim ordered. Damian nodded, accepting the box. It was where Alfred found them, two hours later, broom in hand. “My dear sirs, what are you doing?” The butler asked in bafflement. “Looking for Damians adoption record.” Tim answered, nose still in some papers. Alfred looked at them. “Master Tim. Master Damian.” The two boys looked up. “Yes Alfred?” Tim asked. Alfred's face was fond and utterly confused. “Master Damian is not adopted. He is Master Bruce’s blood son.” 
@nonepizzawithleftglitter @zombiewithaflowercrown
you asked and you shall recieve!
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sentate · 21 days
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SENTATE - 17 Year Anniversary Gift
Hello my angels! On Wednesday the 4th of September 2007 I released my first ever upload... and today I present to you an opulent set of high jewellery to mark 17 years of Sentate! And also to pay homage to the creator who first inspired me to start creating, a creator called Salvatore, by re-imagining one of their iconic 2005 necklaces!
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This set includes both an opulent Diamond Necklace and matching Earrings, with both pearl and gemstone versions in a 15 swatch palette. I'm not the best at jewellery by any means, but I hand placed each stone and pearl to try and replicate the original as best as I could. It's been on my to do list for years!
DOWNLOAD -Free on Patreon
MORE DOWNLOADS  |  TERMS OF USE  |  LINK TREE A little backstory under the cut:
Can you believe I've been making cc for 17 years? It kind of took me by suprise to see the number creep up so high, so I decided it was finally time to recreate the Iconic Salvatore Necklace mesh I've had in my folder for years. Sadly the content they made wasn't really shared publicly and their old fash sites only work with with an emulator but I made some gifs to give you all an insight on the absolute vibes they had back in 2005!
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My whole fashion journey started out with Salvatore. Finding their Haute Couture collections and whole virtual designer processed introduced a whole new way of playing The Sims to me and I never looked back! It would honestly take me a whole essay to explain how finding their little flash site with auto-playing music influenced the course of my life not only in the world of Sims but also real life. I am eternally grateful for inspiration it gave little bebé me all those years ago.
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You can actually see the necklace I recreated in the gif above! So funny how much discovering this one creator has informed my style choices and interests over the years, I forgot how much of an inspiration they were until I rediscovered their site on the wayback machine! Special thanks to DarkestDawn for sending me the necklace mesh back in 2020! Here's to 17 years of making cc and maybe 17 more who knows?!
x x x
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Hope this isnt too embarrassing an ask, but I read your nsfw practice fics and you're really good at it, did you ever plan on writing something similar with any royal/trio ships (or at least camilla/selena and leo trio) ? I just think you're really talented and you're one of my favorite authors for the way you characterize camilla in her relationships and how you write leo trio in a way that centers odin
(fics in question) Not at all embarrassing an ask! I get embarrassed publishing n///sfw fics and writing them (hence why I don't do it so much), but if I did not ever want anyone to comment or speak to me about it, I would not have published them! (Though I will admit I have written some n////sfw that I have not published, lmao).
Also, I'm really glad you like the way I characterize Camilla! I feel like she's really easy to do wrong, but I psychoanalyze her a lot (and perhaps I am wrong in my analysis of her) and have a lot of fun with it. So I'm glad!!! And also the fact you enjoy my Leo Trio with Odin focus bc I'm lame in my favoritism lol
Anyway, to answer your question, I don't have any immediate plans to write about royal/trio sleeping together, but that's mostly because of lack of inspiration and time constraints. If I got really inspired, I might write something! All of the n///sfw I've ever written in any fandom has been for practice trying to get good at writing sex scenes (and to try to fight the embarrassment I get at writing them. But also just for practice because I feel like I really need it, lol. I'm probably especially rusty now). So if something really inspired me, I could do it. Maybe especially as a character study? A dynamic study? Hmm, I do like that idea!
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sunsburns · 13 days
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okay but logan taking an interest in neighbor who works in fashion?? he always sees her carrying stacks of magazines, dressed in her chic attire that is sometimes a bit too tight in all the right areas, glasses slipping off her nose, always making calls on that damn phone, and yet he always wishes she looked his way…
oh anon ur cooking here. i think this is what's pulling me out of my writing slump 🥴 (wade breaking the fourth wall, suggestive 16+)
the first time he noticed you, it wasn't even in your building complex, but rather the stairs to the subway station down the street. you were rushing up the steps while he, wade, laura and al were just about to enter. it was al who noticed you first, calling out your name and poking your side with her walking staff.
you shrieked, dropping one of the fabric rolls you had been carrying, a curse at the tip of your tongue before you realized who it was. "al," you sighed, a little relieved, when you saw her and wade, who was dressed in a "i love nyc" t-shirt.
logan, being the gentleman he was, picked up the roll you dropped, handing it back to you. it was then that you looked at him, or well, briefly glanced his way with a quick "thank you" before wade started fucking talking.
that son of a bitch.
he didn't even have the courtesy to introduce the two of you to each other.
it was obvious you were in a rush, lips in a tight smile as you nodded and tried to smile at wade telling you all about how they were about to "hit up" times square.
logan felt bad for you, but only a little bit. the longer you stayed to listen to wade's painful monologue, the more he could look at you. he was a little shameless about it, perhaps not the most gentlemanly thing he could've done, but god you were just a sight for sore eyes.
a pretty thing in a mini skirt despite the cool late september breeze that was starting to kick, white, lace and ruffled. delicate with tall brown leather boots. and a washed-out denim vest you wore as a top, two buttons undone, a little pink bow tied to the pocket. logan didn't know a lot about fashion, but he liked the way clothes looked on you.
and then you were gone, al kicking wade across the shin to shut him the hell up when she realized you were in a rush. she let you go, and you left, quickly trading numbers with laura and without saying much of a goodbye or another glance logan's way.
but he watched you go, watched the way your skirt moved with the wind too.
"yeah, look at it bounce. god, i am no better than any man. " wade hummed, leaning all his weight on logan's side. "i didn't peg you as a creep, honey badger. with the way you were undressing the reader with your eyes, i would've thought you were on a registered sex offender's list."
"shut the fuck up, wade."
logan could hear the way laura snorted, her and al continuing their way down the stairs.
wade held his hands up in surrender before logan could try anything (and by anything, he meant to cut him to pieces. wade can't deal with that right now, the blood would take ages to get off his white shirt). "i'm just saying, after living with us for a few months, i would've thought you'd met her by now."
logan raised his brow, "what's that supposed to mean?"
"i mean, she literally lives across the hall." wade turned his head to the side, pointing his thumb at logan, "he can't possibly be this stupid, right? it's gotta be for the plot to build up tension or something."
from that day on, logan's started to notice you more. not that he was looking for you, he's not that big of a creep. but he's spotted you out the window some days, running down the sidewalk, always in a rush. then he was able to hear the way you slam your door shut when you leave in the mornings or when you get back home.
every single day, you're usually out and about. unless it's a sunday, those are the days you stay in your apartment, sewing and hanging out with blind old al and sometimes even fucking laura. turns out, you were the one who got laura all of those new clothes, made them for her.
jesus christ, how out of the loop was he?
you stood out like a sore thumb, always carrying something. whether it be magazines, sketchbooks, fabric rolls, or bags, you're always struggling to open your door when you get home, keys sometimes slipping from your grasp as you're trying to juggle everything.
one day, logan had come back from a run and spotted you in the hallway. well, he had heard you from floors below and was able to pick up the lingering scent of your perfume by the time he entered the lobby. it took him a bit of courage to walk up the few flights of stairs knowing he'd bump into you.
what the fuck was this?
he was a grown-ass man for god's sake. you had him overthinking and blushing at the mere thought of being in the same space again.
when he saw you in the hallway, you were on the phone, the device tucked between your ear and your shoulder, cursing under your breath as you tried to pick up your keys. you were wearing a black dress that day, a black hat and a big maroon scarf around your neck, "no, emily, don't fucking buy it in that colour. it looks like fucking vomit. i don't care what amy told you, she's basically colour blind-"
you stopped mid-sentence when logan appeared in front of you, grabbing the keys for you. "oh- uh. thanks."
"yeah, no problem."
he noticed your nails and glasses were dark red to match the scarf. lipstick too.
you didn't mean to grow flustered in his presence, he could tell from the way you froze, as if you didn't know what was supposed to happen next. he had disrupted your daily pattern, everything in your life moving constantly and quickly but all of a sudden everything is slower. it left you breathless.
"you're logan, right?"
he furrowed his brows. he hadn't expected you to remember him, nevertheless, remember his name. "yeah."
"wade told me all about you," you said, and your eyes dropped from his face a little, then lower, a smirk not too different from a sly cat's. you were staring shamelessly, eyes following every part and curve of his body, the way his long-sleeve shirt clung to his skin with sweat. "you don't seem austrailan."
logan tried not to groan. the picture of wade's stupid face in his mind now that you've mentioned him. he hated that the two of you seemed close. "i'm canadian."
"aren't you full of surprises?" you laughed, a smooth, teasing sound, and finally pushed the keys into the nob, unlocking the door. you turned, lingering by the door as if you were about to invite him in, but then the voice from your phone was trying to get your attention and you nearly seemed disappointed. "i'll see you around, logan."
and you were gone again.
logan liked to see your different outfits every day, dawning a different style every time you walked out that door. it was like you could never settle for one style, but you managed to look so fucking good in everything and every colour you put on.
he could never get tired of it. never get tired of you.
you and your tiny bottoms that he swore were getting smaller and smaller every day, even though the city grew colder and the days shorter. you and your stupid phone calls that sometimes went on late at night. you and your clothes, every single one different from the last.
you and your sketches, the ones he had started to find loose pages on the floor of the small hallway between your apartments, pretty designs of lingerie on a model that looked a little bit too much like you for it to be a coincidence.
though you never made another attempt to talk to him, you knew he was watching you. but you never chased, your heels were too expensive for that. you were just trying to give him a reason to come on you.
to you**
to come to you.*
sorry. typo.
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nightprompts · 1 year
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&. 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬.
( this is basically just a very self indulgent list of various fluff, angst, and suggestive themed dialogue sentence starters. )
❛ i could keep you safe. they’re all afraid of me. ❜
❛ i’m trying to fix your hair, so hold still. ❜
❛ your heart is beating so fast right now. ❜
❛ promise me you’ll still be here when i wake up. ❜
❛ you’re not as bad as everyone says you are. ❜
❛ i thought you’d like some company. ❜ 
❛ clean yourself up. you're getting blood all over the place. ❜
❛ here, give this a try and tell me what you think. ❜
❛ you can kiss me, you know. ❜
❛ come back to bed. ❜
❛ you look good like this. ❜
❛ working together again, it’s just like old times. ❜
❛ how is it you always know what i need, huh? ❜
❛ you’re lucky you got away with only a scratch. ❜ 
❛ i can’t imagine losing someone like that. i’m sorry. ❜
❛ you know you can always talk to me. ❜
❛ the only one who gets to kill you, is me. ❜
❛ so, what do i owe this pleasure? ❜
❛ ah, so you aren’t heartless after all. ❜
❛ may i have this dance? ❜ 
❛ it’s okay, you can touch me. i won't break. ❜
❛ enemies make the best lovers, you know. ❜
❛ hold still. this might sting a little. ❜
❛ we can't keep doing this. ❜ 
❛ you look like you've got something to say. ❜
❛ just relax and let me take care of you. ❜
❛ thought you’d be lighter without all that blood. ❜
❛ i had it under control. you didn’t need to do that. ❜
❛ everything looks so beautiful from up here. ❜
❛ you treat all your ladies like this? ❜
❛ well? how do i look? ❜
❛ can’t sleep? ❜
❛ do you mind if i smoke? ❜
❛ i’m scared of ending up alone. ❜
❛ i don’t think i’ve ever seen you smile. ❜
❛ how long has it been since you've slept? ❜
❛ you are losing my interest, and that’s very dangerous. ❜
❛ i’d suffer hell if you’d tell me what you’d do to me tonight. ❜
❛ you look really pretty right now. ❜
❛ i’ve never cared for anyone the way i care for you. ❜
❛ i’m not wearing any underwear. thought you’d like to know. ❜
❛ just a few more stitches and you’ll be as good as new. ❜
❛ i’d say we make a pretty good team. ❜
❛ i want you to forget this ever happened. ❜
❛ i'm here for business — not pleasure. ❜
❛ if i didn't know any better, i'd say you were jealous. ❜
❛ you'd look better down on your knees. ❜
❛ fine, keep acting like you hate me. ❜
❛ kiss me again. ❜
❛ are you asking me out on a date? ❜
❛ just sit there and look pretty and let me handle this. ❜
❛ you okay? caught you staring off into space again. ❜
❛ well, i do feel better now that you're here. ❜
❛ i'm not drunk enough for this. ❜ 
❛ why is it whenever we see each other, you’re covered in blood? ❜
❛ i was wrong about you. ❜ 
❛ the first time i met you, i had no idea you'd mean this much. ❜
❛ you gonna be a good girl / boy for me? ❜
❛ i’m not afraid of you. ❜
❛ books mean more to me than people anyway. ❜
❛ i just wanted to say thank you for protecting me. ❜
❛ how about a kiss goodnight? ❜
❛ i don’t have time for distractions right now. ❜
❛ you shouldn’t be out here by yourself. ❜ 
❛ if i have to think about one more thing today, my head will explode. ❜
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pucksandpower · 18 days
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Black Widow
Toto Wolff x black widow!Reader
Summary: Lewis Hamilton and George Russell are convinced you’re trying to kill their team principal, and, to be fair, you do have a trail of seven dead extremely wealthy husbands behind you … but it’s not what they think, you promise
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The soft beep of medical equipment provides a rhythmic backdrop as you sit beside the ornate mahogany bed, your manicured fingers intertwined with those of your latest husband, Reginald Worthington III.
At 89 years old, Reggie, as you affectionately call him, is by far your oldest conquest yet. His wrinkled face, now gaunt from months of illness, still manages a weak smile as he gazes at you.
“My darling,” Reggie wheezes, his voice barely above a whisper, “I hope you know how much joy you’ve brought to these final months of mine.”
You lean in, your silky hair cascading over your shoulder as you press a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Oh, Reggie. The pleasure has been all mine.”
It’s not entirely a lie. While you don’t love Reggie — or any of your previous husbands, for that matter — you’ve grown fond of the old codger. He’s certainly been the most amusing of your elderly spouses.
Reggie’s eyes twinkle with mischief, a ghost of the rakish playboy he must have been in his youth. “Now, now, my dear. We both know this has been a mutually beneficial arrangement. But I do hope I’ve provided some entertainment along the way.”
You can’t help but chuckle. “You’ve been a delight, darling. Truly.”
As if on cue, Reggie is seized by a coughing fit. You quickly grab a glass of water from the bedside table, helping him take small sips until the spasms subside. When he catches his breath, he fixes you with a serious look.
“Y/N, there’s something I need to tell you. About the will.”
Your heart skips a beat, but you keep your face carefully neutral. “Reggie, please. We don’t need to discuss such morbid topics.”
He waves a dismissive hand. “Nonsense. We both know why you’re here, and it’s not to admire the wallpaper. Now listen, because this is important.”
You lean in closer, curiosity piqued despite yourself.
Reggie’s voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper. “In addition to the usual — the houses, the cars, the offshore accounts — I’m leaving you my stake in the Mercedes Formula 1 team.”
Your eyes widen in genuine surprise. “The racing team? Reggie, I had no idea you were involved with-”
He cuts you off with a wheezy laugh. “Oh, my dear. There’s so much you don’t know about me. Did you think I made my fortune selling denture cream?”
You can’t help but smile. “Well, I did wonder about all those trophies in your study.”
“Remnants of a misspent youth,” Reggie says with a wistful sigh. “But this, this is my crowning achievement. A 33% stake in one of the most successful F1 teams in history.”
Your mind reels at the implications. This is far beyond anything you’d anticipated when you’d set your sights on Reginald Worthington III.
“Reggie, I ... I don’t know what to say.”
He pats your hand affectionately. “You don’t have to say anything, my dear. Just promise me you’ll make the most of it. I’ve always admired your ambition. It reminds me of myself at your age.”
You lean back in your chair, studying the old man before you. In that moment, you feel a surge of genuine affection for him.
“I promise, Reggie. I’ll make you proud.”
He nods, satisfied. “Good. Now, tell me about the others. I want to know how I measure up to my predecessors.”
You laugh, shaking your head in amazement. “Are you sure? It’s quite a list.”
Reggie’s eyes sparkle with interest. “My dear, I’m on my deathbed. Regale me with tales of your conquests.”
With a theatrical sigh, you begin. “Well, if you insist. Let’s see ... first, there was Harold.”
“Ah, the virgin husband,” Reggie interrupts with a knowing nod.
You raise an eyebrow. “And how did you know that?”
He winks. “I have my sources. Go on.”
“Right. Well, Harold was a sweet man. A bit naive, perhaps, but genuinely kind. He left me his tech startup. It wasn’t worth much at the time, but I sold it for a tidy sum a year later.”
Reggie nods approvingly. “Smart move. Who was next?”
“After Harold came George. He was ... intense. A retired army general with a penchant for war stories and expensive scotch. Left me his collection of rare military memorabilia.”
“Fascinating,” Reggie murmurs. “And the others?”
You tick them off on your fingers. “Let’s see ... there was Joaquin, the passionate Spanish chef. He left me his Michelin-starred restaurants. Then came Dmitri, the Russian oligarch. That was ... an experience.”
Reggie chuckles. “I bet it was. What did he leave you?”
“A series of shell companies and a rather gaudy yacht. I sold the yacht, kept the companies.” You pause, lost in thought for a moment. “After Dmitri was William, the British lord. Lovely man, terrible teeth. Left me his crumbling estate and title.”
“So you’re technically a lady now?” Reggie asks, amused.
You nod. “Lady Y/N, at your service. Though I don’t use the title much. It tends to raise questions.”
“Understandable. And the last one before me?”
Your expression softens slightly. “Ah, that was Hiroshi. Japanese tech mogul. Brilliant mind, but so lonely. I think I was the first real companionship he’d had in years.”
Reggie studies you carefully. “You were fond of him.”
You nod, a bit surprised by the lump in your throat. “I was. He ... he understood me, I think. More than the others.”
There’s a moment of silence as Reggie processes this information. Finally, he speaks. “And what did Hiroshi leave you?”
You smile wryly. “His AI research company. It’s been ... interesting, to say the least.”
Reggie nods slowly. “Quite a collection you’ve amassed, my dear. But tell me, what drives you? Surely it’s not just the money.”
You’re taken aback by the question. No one has ever asked you that before. You take a moment to gather your thoughts.
“I suppose ... it’s the challenge of it all. The thrill of reinventing myself with each new husband, of navigating these complex worlds they inhabit. And yes, the wealth is nice, but it’s more about what I can do with it.”
Reggie leans forward, intrigued. “And what is it you want to do?”
You pause, realizing you’ve never really articulated this to anyone before. “I want to make a difference. Real, lasting change. These men, they’ve all built empires in their own ways, but they’ve been limited by their own mortality. I don’t have those limitations yet. I can take what they’ve given me and create something ... more.”
Reggie’s eyes light up with understanding. “Ah, now I see why I was drawn to you. You’re not just a pretty face or a clever mind. You’re a visionary.”
You feel a flush of pride at his words. “I try to be. Each husband has taught me something new, given me tools I never had before. Harold showed me the potential of technology. George taught me strategy. Joaquin, the importance of passion in one’s work. Dmitri, how to navigate the murky waters of international business. William gave me a glimpse into old-world power structures. And Hiroshi ... well, he opened my eyes to the future.”
Reggie nods slowly. “And what have I taught you, I wonder?”
You smile softly. “Patience, Reggie. The long game. And the value of a good sense of humor in the face of adversity.”
He chuckles weakly. “Well, I’m glad I could contribute something to your education. Now, about this F1 team ...”
You lean in, eager to hear more. “Yes?”
“It’s more than just a racing team, you know. It’s a pinnacle of engineering, a testament to human ingenuity and the constant push for improvement. I think you’ll find it fits quite well with your ambitions.”
You nod slowly, mind already racing with possibilities. “I can see that. The technology, the global platform, the prestige ...”
Reggie grins. “Exactly. And who knows? Maybe you’ll find husband number eight in the paddock.”
You laugh, shaking your head. “Oh, Reggie. Always thinking ahead, aren’t you?”
He winks. “Someone has to. Now, promise me one thing.”
“Anything,” you say, and you’re surprised to find you mean it.
“When you’re accepting that championship trophy — because I know you will — wear something fabulous. Give those stuffy old men in the paddock something to talk about.”
You can’t help but grin. “Oh, don’t worry. I intend to shake things up a bit.”
Reggie nods approvingly. “That’s my girl. Now, I think I need to rest for a bit. But don’t go far. I want to hear all about your plans for world domination when I wake up.”
As you watch Reggie drift off to sleep, you can’t help but feel a mix of emotions. Sadness at the impending loss of this charming old rogue, excitement at the unexpected opportunity he’s given you, and a renewed sense of purpose.
You glance at your reflection in the ornate mirror across the room. Lady Y/N Y/L/N, soon-to-be racing magnate. It has a nice ring to it.
As you settle back into your chair, you begin to plan your next moves. The motorsport world won’t know what hit it.
***
The sleek boardroom of the Mercedes-AMG Petronas F1 Team headquarters buzzes with hushed conversation. Around the polished mahogany table, team executives and board members huddle in small groups, their voices low and urgent.
Toto catches snippets of conversation as he reviews his notes for the meeting.
“Did you hear? She’s actually coming today,” whispers Bradley, the team’s financial officer.
Sarah, head of marketing, leans in. “I can’t believe Reginald left her his stake. What was he thinking?”
“Probably wasn’t thinking with his head, if you know what I mean,” chuckles Thomas, the technical director.
Toto clears his throat, silencing the gossip. “Let’s keep things professional, shall we? We have important matters to discuss today.”
As if on cue, the boardroom door swings open. The room falls into an immediate, almost eerie silence as you stride in, turning heads with every click of your Manolo Blahnik heels against the polished floor.
Toto finds himself holding his breath, caught off guard by your presence. He’s seen photos, of course, but they didn’t do you justice. Your tailored Armani suit exudes power and confidence, while your eyes scan the room with a shrewd intelligence that sends a shiver down his spine.
You take your seat at the far end of the table, directly opposite Toto. “Good morning, everyone. I hope I’m not late.”
Your voice, smooth as silk with a hint of amusement, breaks the spell. The room erupts into a flurry of awkward greetings and nervous coughs.
Toto clears his throat again, trying to regain control of the situation. “Not at all. We were just about to begin. Welcome, Lady Worthington. We’re honored to have you join us today.”
You smile, a dazzling display that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “Please, call me Y/N. We’re all colleagues here, after all.”
Toto nods, fighting to keep his composure. “Of course, Y/N. Shall we begin with the agenda?”
As the meeting progresses, Toto finds himself increasingly distracted. He’s used to being the most commanding presence in any room, but your arrival has shifted the dynamic entirely. Every time you speak, offering insights or asking pointed questions, the rest of the board seems to hold its breath.
“I’ve been reviewing our sustainability initiatives,” you say during a lull in the conversation. “While I applaud our efforts so far, I believe we could be doing more. Formula 1 has an unique platform to drive innovation in green technologies. We should be leading the charge, not just following along.”
Bradley shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “With all due respect, Lady- I mean, Y/N, implementing new sustainability measures could be quite costly. We need to consider the bottom line.”
You lean forward, fixing Bradley with an intense gaze. “And what about the cost of falling behind? Of being seen as out of touch with the concerns of younger fans? Sometimes, you have to spend money to make money.”
Toto finds himself nodding in agreement before he even realizes it. “Y/N raises an excellent point. Perhaps we should form a task force to explore more aggressive sustainability options.”
You flash him a grateful smile, and Toto feels his heart skip a beat. He quickly looks down at his notes, trying to regain his composure.
As the meeting continues, you consistently challenge the status quo, pushing for bolder strategies and innovative approaches. Toto watches in fascination as you deftly navigate the complex dynamics of the board, alternating between charm and steel as the situation demands.
During a discussion about driver development, you interject again. “I’ve been looking into our junior driver program, and I think we’re missing opportunities. We’re too focused on traditional racing backgrounds. What about sim racers? Or scouting karters from developing countries? We could be tapping into a whole new pool of talent.”
Sarah, the marketing head, perks up at this. “That’s ... actually a brilliant idea. It could really broaden our appeal, especially in emerging markets.”
You nod appreciatively. “Exactly. And imagine the stories we could tell. The sim racer who became an F1 champion or the kid from a small village who rose to the top of motorsport. That’s the kind of narrative that builds brand loyalty and inspires the next generation of fans.”
Toto finds himself leaning forward, completely engrossed. “I love this direction. Y/N, would you be willing to work with Sarah to develop a proposal for expanding our driver search?”
“Of course,” you reply with a smile that makes Toto’s pulse quicken. “I’d be delighted.”
As the meeting winds down, Toto realizes that the entire dynamic of the board has shifted. The initial wariness towards you has given way to a mixture of respect and curiosity. Even those who seemed most skeptical at the start are now hanging on your every word.
“Well,” Toto says, glancing at his watch, “I think that concludes our agenda for today. Unless anyone has any other matters to discuss?”
The room is silent for a moment before you speak up. “Actually, if I may, I’d like to address the elephant in the room.”
A tense hush falls over the gathering. Toto holds his breath, unsure of what’s coming next.
You stand, your posture relaxed but commanding. “I’m aware of the rumors and speculation surrounding my ... personal life. I want to assure all of you that my presence here is purely professional. I’m not here to cause drama or upheaval. I’m here because I believe in the potential of this team and this sport. I hope that over time, you’ll come to judge me based on my contributions, not on gossip or hearsay.”
The sincerity in your voice is palpable, and Toto can see the effect it has on the room. Shoulders relax, expressions soften. There’s a collective exhale, as if a weight has been lifted.
“Thank you for your honesty,” Toto says, standing as well. “I think I speak for everyone when I say we look forward to working with you and seeing what fresh perspectives you can bring to the team.”
There’s a murmur of agreement around the table. As the meeting officially adjourns, people begin to gather their things and file out of the room. Toto notices that several board members linger, clearly hoping to have a word with you. He feels an unexpected twinge of jealousy.
Before he can second-guess himself, Toto makes his way around the table to where you’re chatting with Sarah about the junior driver program idea.
“Excuse me,” he says, feeling uncharacteristically nervous. “Y/N, I was wondering if I could have a word?”
You turn to him with a smile that makes his heart race. “Of course. What can I do for you?”
He takes a deep breath, acutely aware of the curious glances from the remaining board members. “I was impressed by your insights today. I think there’s a lot we could discuss further about the future direction of the team. Would you perhaps be interested in continuing this conversation over dinner?”
A hush falls over the remaining occupants of the room. Toto can practically feel the weight of their stares, but he keeps his eyes fixed on you.
You raise an eyebrow, a mix of surprise and amusement playing across your features. “Dinner? My, my, Toto. Aren’t you afraid of me? I do have quite the reputation, you know.”
There’s a challenge in your voice, but also a hint of vulnerability that catches Toto off guard. He realizes that beneath your confident exterior, you’re testing him, gauging his true intentions.
Toto meets your gaze steadily, his voice low but firm. “I don’t put much stock in rumors. I prefer to form my own opinions based on what I see and experience. And what I’ve seen today is a brilliant, passionate individual who could be a tremendous asset to this team. That’s the person I’m interested in getting to know better.”
The room seems to hold its breath, waiting for your response. You study Toto for a long moment, your expression unreadable. Then, slowly, a genuine smile spreads across your face.
“Well, in that case, I’d be delighted to have dinner with you. Shall we say eight o’clock?”
Toto feels a rush of relief and excitement. “Eight o’clock sounds perfect. I know just the place.”
As you gather your things and prepare to leave, Toto can’t help but feel like he’s standing on the precipice of something monumental. He’s built his career on calculated risks, on seeing potential where others see danger. Looking at you, he knows that this might be the biggest gamble of his life.
But as you turn to give him one last smile before exiting the boardroom, Toto is certain of one thing: it’s a risk he’s more than willing to take.
***
The Monaco Grand Prix paddock buzzes with excitement, a hive of activity as teams prepare for the most glamorous race on the Formula 1 calendar. Lewis Hamilton and George Russell huddle in a quiet corner of the Mercedes garage, their voices low and urgent.
“I’m telling you, mate, something’s not right,” George insists, his eyes darting around to ensure they’re not overheard. “Have you seen the way Toto’s been acting lately? It’s like he’s under some kind of spell.”
Lewis nods grimly, his usual pre-race focus replaced by concern. “I know what you mean. Ever since she came into the picture, it’s like he’s a different person. Always distracted, making decisions that don’t quite add up.”
“Exactly!” George exclaims, then quickly lowers his voice again. “And have you noticed how she’s always around now? At every meeting, every strategy session. It’s like she’s trying to learn all our secrets.”
Lewis furrows his brow, deep in thought. “You don’t think ... I mean, surely she wouldn’t actually try to ...”
“Kill him?” George finishes, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know, mate. But look at her track record. Seven husbands, all dead within months of marrying her. And now she’s got her claws into Toto.”
As if summoned by their conversation, you appear at the entrance of the garage, Toto at your side. The team principal’s hand rests comfortably on the small of your back as he leads you through the bustling workspace.
Lewis and George fall silent, watching intently as you make your way towards them. Your designer sundress and oversized sunglasses scream understated elegance, but to the two drivers, you might as well be wearing a black widow’s web.
“Good morning,” Toto calls out cheerfully. “Ready for qualifying?”
Lewis forces a smile, his eyes never leaving you. “Morning, Toto. Yeah, we were just discussing strategy.”
You step forward, flashing a dazzling smile. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything important. I’m still learning all the intricacies of race weekends.”
George clears his throat, trying to keep his voice steady. “Not at all. We were just finishing up.”
Toto beams, looking from you to his drivers with pride. “Isn’t it wonderful having Y/N here? She’s already brought so many fresh ideas to the team. I don’t know how we managed without her.”
You laugh, a sound that sends chills down Lewis and George’s spines. “Oh, darling, you’re exaggerating. I’m sure these boys were doing just fine before I came along.”
As you speak, your hand reaches up to smooth Toto’s collar, a gesture that seems innocent enough but makes both drivers tense.
Lewis clears his throat. “Actually, Toto, could we have a quick word? About the, uh, tire strategy?”
Toto looks surprised but nods. “Of course. Y/N, would you mind giving us a moment?”
“Not at all,” you reply smoothly. “I’ll just go chat with the mechanics. I’m fascinated by all this technology.”
As you saunter away, Lewis and George exchange a meaningful glance. This is their chance.
“Toto,” Lewis begins, choosing his words carefully. “We’re a bit concerned. About you, actually.”
Toto’s brow furrows in confusion. “Concerned? What do you mean?”
George jumps in, his words tumbling out in a rush. “It’s just that ... well, things have been different since you started seeing her. And given her history ...”
“Her history?” Toto repeats, his voice taking on an edge. “What exactly are you implying?”
Lewis takes a deep breath. “Toto, we care about you. And we can’t help but notice that Y/N’s previous partners have all met with ... unfortunate ends.”
For a moment, Toto just stares at them, his expression unreadable. Then, to their surprise, he bursts out laughing.
“Oh, boys,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “I appreciate your concern, truly. But I assure you, it’s misplaced. Y/N has been nothing but a positive influence on both me and the team.”
George persists, his voice urgent. “But Toto, you have to admit, the pattern is alarming. Seven husbands, all dead within months of marriage. And now she’s here, learning all about our team, our strategies ...”
Toto’s amusement fades, replaced by a stern look. “That’s enough. I understand you’re worried, but I won’t have you spreading baseless rumors. Y/N is here because she’s a part-owner of this team and because I invited her. End of discussion.”
As Toto walks away, Lewis and George share a look of dismay.
“He’s in too deep,” Lewis mutters. “We need to do something.”
George nods grimly. “We can’t let her hurt him. Or the team. We need a plan.”
Throughout the day, as qualifying unfolds, Lewis and George find themselves constantly distracted. Every time they catch a glimpse of you in the garage or on the pit wall, their imaginations run wild.
During a brief break between sessions, they overhear a snippet of conversation between you and one of the engineers.
“So, if something were to go wrong with the car during the race,” you’re saying, “what would be the most catastrophic point of failure?”
The engineer launches into a detailed explanation of various mechanical vulnerabilities, unaware of the horrified looks on the drivers’ faces.
“She’s gathering intel,” George whispers to Lewis. “Probably planning some sort of accident for Toto.”
Lewis nods, his jaw set with determination. “We need to warn him again. Make him see reason.”
But their attempts to get Toto alone prove futile. You seem to be constantly by his side, your hand on his arm, whispering in his ear. To an outsider, it might look like the actions of a loving girlfriend, but to Lewis and George, every gesture seems calculated and sinister.
As the day wears on, their paranoia grows. They start seeing threats everywhere. When you hand Toto a bottle of water, they’re convinced it’s poisoned. When you suggest he take a look at something in the back of the garage, they’re sure you’re luring him away to do him harm.
Finally, as the sun begins to set over the Monaco harbor, they decide they can’t wait any longer. They need to confront you directly.
They find you alone in the hospitality area, reviewing some papers. As they approach, you look up with a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.
“Lewis, George,” you greet them warmly. “Excellent qualifying today. You must be pleased.”
Lewis takes a deep breath, steeling himself. “Cut the act. We know what you’re up to.”
Your expression doesn’t change, but something flickers in your eyes. “I’m not sure I understand. What exactly am I up to?”
George steps forward, his voice low and intense. “We know about your husbands. All seven of them. And we’re not going to let you add Toto to that list.”
For a moment, you just stare at them, your face unreadable. Then, to their surprise, you burst out laughing.
“Oh,” you chuckle, shaking your head. “Is that what this is all about? You think I’m here to kill Toto?”
Lewis and George exchange confused glances, thrown off by your reaction.
You lean in, your voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Let me tell you a little secret. Those men? They were all terminally ill when I married them. It was a business arrangement, pure and simple. They got to spend their last months with a young, beautiful wife, and I got their fortunes. No foul play involved.”
The drivers stare at you, speechless. You continue, your tone becoming more serious.
“As for Toto, well, that’s different. For the first time in my life, I’ve found someone I genuinely care for. Someone who sees me for who I am, not just what I can offer. I’m not here to hurt him or the team. I’m here because I want to be part of something meaningful.”
Lewis and George exchange uncertain glances, their convictions shaken.
“But ... all the questions about the car, the team strategies ...” George begins.
You roll your eyes, a hint of amusement in your voice. “I’m a part-owner of this team now, remember? Of course I’m trying to learn everything I can. How else can I contribute?”
As the truth of your words sinks in, Lewis and George begin to feel a creeping sense of embarrassment. They’ve let their imaginations and preconceptions run wild, seeing threats where there were none.
“I ... we ...” Lewis stammers, struggling to find the right words.
You hold up a hand, stopping him. “It’s alright. I understand. My reputation precedes me, and you were just looking out for Toto. I can respect that.”
George rubs the back of his neck, sheepish. “We may have gotten a bit carried away. I’m sorry.”
You smile, and this time it reaches your eyes. “Apology accepted. Now, what do you say we put this behind us and focus on winning tomorrow’s race?”
As if on cue, Toto appears, looking between the three of you with curiosity. “Everything alright here?”
You stand, moving to his side and slipping your arm through his. “Everything’s perfect, darling. In fact, I think Lewis and George were just about to share some ideas they had for the race strategy. Weren’t you, boys?”
Lewis and George nod, grateful for the out you’ve given them. As they launch into a discussion about tire management and overtaking opportunities, they can’t help but marvel at how wrong they’ve been.
Watching you interact with Toto, they see not a black widow spinning her web, but a woman genuinely in love, bringing out the best in their team principal. They realize that sometimes, people can surprise you. And sometimes, the most unexpected additions to a team can be the most valuable.
***
The soft glow of chandeliers bathes the exclusive Monégasque restaurant in warm light, casting elegant shadows across the faces of Monaco’s elite. Grigori Volkov, a grizzled veteran of the Russian underworld, sips his vodka, his weathered face a mask of careful neutrality as he surveys the room.
His eyes narrow as they land on a familiar figure across the crowded dining area. It can’t be, he thinks, leaning forward for a better look. But there’s no mistaking that face, those eyes that have haunted his dreams and nightmares for years.
You.
Grigori watches as you laugh, your hand resting lightly on the arm of a tall, distinguished-looking man. He recognizes him vaguely. But what catches Grigori off guard is the easy intimacy between you, the matching wedding bands glinting in the low light.
For a moment, Grigori considers slipping out unnoticed. But curiosity gets the better of him. He signals the waiter, ordering another round of drinks to be sent to your table.
As the waiter approaches with the drinks, Grigori sees your posture stiffen slightly, your eyes scanning the room until they lock onto his. He raises his glass in a small salute, a wry smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
You lean in, whispering something to Toto. The man looks surprised but nods, and together you make your way towards Grigori’s table.
“Grigori,” you greet him, your voice a mix of warmth and wariness. “It’s been a long time.”
Grigori stands, bowing slightly. “Indeed it has, my dear. You’re looking well. And who might this be?”
Toto extends his hand, his grip firm. “Toto Wolff. And you are?”
“An old friend of your wife’s,” Grigori replies smoothly, noting the flicker of surprise in Toto’s eyes at the word ’wife’. “Grigori Volkov. I knew Y/N back in her Russian days.”
You gesture to the empty chairs. “May we join you?”
Grigori nods, waving expansively. “Please, be my guests.”
As you settle in, Grigori can’t help but study Toto more closely. He’s younger than expected, vital and alert. Not at all what he’d imagined for your latest conquest.
“So, Toto,” Grigori begins, his accent thick with amusement, “how long have you and our dear Y/N been married?”
Toto smiles, his hand finding yours on the table. “Just over two years now. Best decision I ever made.”
Grigori’s eyebrows shoot up. “Two years? My, my. That’s quite impressive.”
You shoot him a warning look, but Toto just looks confused. “I’m not sure I follow. Why is that impressive?”
Grigori chuckles, taking a long sip of his vodka. “Oh, forgive me. I just meant that Y/N here has always been something of a ... how do you say ... free spirit? Never one to be tied down for long.”
You interject quickly, “People change, Grigori. I’ve found what I was looking for.”
Grigori nods, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Indeed they do. And what of your ... other interests? The ones you inherited from dear Dmitri?”
Toto’s brow furrows. “Dmitri? I’m afraid I don’t know much about Y/N’s ex-husbands.”
“Ex-husbands?” Grigori repeats, feigning surprise. “Oh, but Dmitri was special, wasn’t he? After all, not every day one inherits a slice of the Bratva.”
The color drains from Toto’s face as he turns to you. “The Bratva? As in, the Russian mob?”
You sigh, shooting Grigori a glare that could freeze vodka. “It’s complicated, darling. And very much in the past.”
Grigori leans back, thoroughly enjoying the drama unfolding before him. “Oh, come now, Y/N. Surely your husband deserves to know the truth? About your colorful past, your string of deceased husbands, your unexpected rise to power in certain ... shall we say, unofficial circles?”
Toto looks between you and Grigori, his expression a mix of confusion and growing concern. “Y/N, what is he talking about?”
You take a deep breath, squeezing Toto’s hand. “Toto, there are parts of my past I haven’t told you about. Not because I wanted to keep secrets, but because I wanted to leave that life behind.”
Grigori interjects, his voice dripping with false sympathy. “Oh, but my dear, can one ever truly leave such a life behind? Especially when one has risen to such ... prominent positions?”
Toto’s eyes narrow as he looks at Grigori. “And what exactly is your role in all this?”
Grigori smiles, all teeth and no warmth. “Let’s just say I’m an old associate of Dmitri’s. And by extension, of Y/N’s. Though I must admit, I’m surprised to see you still among the living, Mr. Wolff. Our dear Y/N has quite a reputation, you know.”
You slam your hand on the table, your voice low and dangerous. “Enough, Grigori. That’s not who I am anymore.”
Grigori holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Of course, of course. I meant no offense. I’m merely ... surprised. After all, your previous husbands weren’t quite so fortunate. Or so young and vigorous.”
Toto’s jaw clenches, his eyes darting between you and Grigori. “I think it’s time we left.”
As you stand to leave, Grigori calls out, “Oh, but we’ve only just begun to catch up. There’s so much your husband doesn’t know, Y/N. About the power you wield, the empire you inherited. Don’t you think he deserves to know the truth about the woman he married?”
You turn back, your eyes flashing with a mix of anger and something deeper, more dangerous. “The truth, Grigori, is that I left that life behind. I found something real, something worth living for. And if you or anyone else tries to drag me back into that world, you’ll regret it.”
Grigori leans forward, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Is that a threat, my dear?”
You smile, cold and sharp. “Consider it a friendly warning. From one old friend to another.”
As you and Toto walk away, Grigori can’t help but feel a shiver run down his spine. He’d forgotten, in the years since you’d left Russia, just how formidable you could be.
He watches as you and Toto have an intense, whispered conversation by the exit. To his surprise, instead of storming out, Toto nods, takes your hand, and leads you back to Grigori’s table.
“Mr. Volkov,” Toto says, his voice steady and controlled, “I think it’s time we had an honest conversation. About Y/N’s past, about your ... association, and about how we move forward from here.”
Grigori raises an eyebrow, impressed despite himself. “Well, well. It seems you’ve found yourself a man with a spine, Y/N. Very well, let’s talk.”
As the three of you settle back into your seats, Grigori can’t help but feel a grudging respect for Toto. Most men would have run for the hills by now, but here he is, ready to face the truth head-on.
“So,” Grigori begins, pouring fresh vodka for all of you, “where shall we start? With Dmitri? With the Bratva? Or perhaps with the mysterious deaths of Y/N’s previous husbands?”
Toto takes a sip of vodka, his eyes never leaving Grigori’s. “Let’s start with the truth. All of it.”
You sigh, your hand finding Toto’s under the table. “Alright. Dmitri was my fifth husband. He was a high-ranking member of the Bratva, and when he died, I inherited his position and his connections.”
Grigori nods approvingly. “She’s being modest. Y/N didn’t just inherit Dmitri’s position — she expanded it. Forged new alliances, eliminated rivals. She became a force to be reckoned with in our world.”
Toto looks at you, his expression unreadable. “And the other husbands?”
You meet his gaze steadily. “They were all older men, all terminally ill. It was a business arrangement. They got to spend their last months with a young wife, and I got their fortunes. No foul play, I swear.”
Grigori chuckles. “Oh, come now. There were rumors, whispers of poison, of accidents arranged just so ...”
You whirl on him, your eyes flashing. “Rumors started by people like you. People who couldn’t believe a woman could gain power without resorting to murder.”
Toto squeezes your hand, his voice gentle. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this?”
You turn back to him, your expression softening. “Because I wanted to leave it all behind. When I met you, I saw a chance at a real life, a real relationship. I didn’t want my past to taint that.”
Grigori watches this exchange with growing fascination. He’s never seen you like this — vulnerable, open, genuinely in love. It’s... unsettling.
“And now?” He asks, unable to keep the curiosity from his voice. “What becomes of your empire, Y/N? Your power? Your connections?”
You straighten, your voice firm. “I’ve been systematically dismantling it all. Using the resources to fund legitimate businesses, charitable foundations. I’m out. For good.”
Grigori leans back, genuinely surprised. “You’re serious, aren’t you? You’re really walking away from it all.”
Toto speaks up, his voice steady. “We’re building something new together. Something honest, something we can be proud of.”
Grigori studies them both for a long moment, then throws back the last of his vodka. “Well, I’ll be damned. You’ve actually done it. You’ve found a way out.”
You nod, a small smile playing at your lips. “I have. And I’d appreciate it if you’d spread the word. Y/N Wolff is retired. Permanently.”
Grigori stands, straightening his jacket. “Consider it done, my dear. But know this — there will always be those who remember who you were, what you were capable of. Be careful.”
As he turns to leave, Toto calls out, “Mr. Volkov?”
Grigori pauses, looking back. “Yes?”
Toto’s voice is calm, but there’s steel beneath the surface. “If anyone from Y/N’s past tries to cause trouble for us, they’ll have to deal with me. And I assure you, I can be just as formidable as my wife when necessary.”
Grigori studies Toto for a moment, then breaks into a broad grin. “I believe you, Mr. Wolff. I really do. Take care of her, won’t you? She’s one of a kind.”
As Grigori walks away, he can’t help but shake his head in amazement. You, the Black Widow of the Bratva, settled down and in love. Will wonders never cease?
He glances back one last time to see you and Toto deep in conversation, your hands intertwined on the table. There’s an openness to your expression that he’s never seen before, a vulnerability that speaks volumes.
For the first time in years, Grigori feels a twinge of envy. Not for your power or your wealth, but for the genuine connection you seem to have found. As he steps out into the cool Monaco night, he wonders if perhaps it’s time for him to consider a change of his own.
After all, if the infamous Y/N can find redemption and true love, maybe there’s hope for an old dog like him yet.
1K notes · View notes
jazjelspen · 8 months
Text
my angel baby
(alastor w/ angel daughter reader)
[caution!!: EPISODE 8 & 6 SPOILERS. NOT PROOFREAD]
(notes: alastor joins charlie and vaggie in heaven to convince them about the hazbin hotel. angel reader physically resembles a fawn. )
(right now this is considered a oneshot, unless there is a very high demand for a part 2 I'll happily make another one for funzies!)
(PART 2 IS OUT!!!)
(also apologies if alastor's last name isnt actually altruist LMAo I kinda just wrote it assuming so 😭 )
You made it to heaven, lucky you.
Heaven was surely a treat, you lived your days with the upmost happiness, the light of heaven shining on your skin with kisses as if praising you for your goodness and your sacrifices,
all your sacrifices.
You were currently taking the job over for St. Peter at the gates of heaven for just a few minutes to await for any wondering souls to appear, to help guide them while he came back from a lunch break. Normally they wouldn't allow a human soul like yourself with little experience in this kind of task to take charge of such an important job, but you were close to many of the high ranking angels and you have proved your proficiency in tasks that you set your mind to, so you were glad to help those in need.
You stood there reading through the millions of pages looking over all kinds of names, all seemed like names that you wouldn't normally hear back in your time when you died. Some you liked, others didn't exactly pique your interest much, but the advancement of names since the 1930s surely proved how much times have changed and how quickly time seems to pass in heaven.
You wonder if it is in hell too.
'Hell?..' you wondered as you shook your head and sighed, your mind has been on that place lately and you wondered if it was even worth the rent free space in your mind.
You were currently slouched over the book and decided to close it with a glum look on your face, your elbows now resting on the golden podium and your hands cupping your face.
Geez, and you've been thinking a lot about your old man.
What-- no wait-
You shouldn't call him your old man, let alone your dad, not even father, pops-- not even by his damn name.
Even so, as much as you hated it.. you couldn't help but still use his last name sometimes since it's what you were given when you were first taken in.
Your last name?.. why, you're forgetting already?
_____ Altruist is who you a---
"HELLO??"
You snapped out of your thoughts as your head slipped from under your palms, face planting onto the cover of the enormous book. In embarrassment you snapped your head back up and your wings followed suit, spreading open behind you in shock as your eyes searched for the voice that called out to you from below.
You finally darted down to see three oddly shaped figures, your panicked vision soon relaxing to see two girls and a man dressed in red from tip to toe.
How peculiar.
Your eyes only set on the girl at the moment since she was the one waving at you and basically begging for your attention.
"Hello hello! uh.. Down here!" The girl with long locks of pale yellow hair waved, her smile widening when seeing she's caught your attention.
"Ah- yes yes! Hello hello! Welcome to Heaven! May I.. uh-" you scrambled nervously to open the book in the middle of it, "May I have your name please?"
She nodded, also returning a bit of a shy attitude back "Yes of course! My names Charlie Morningstar!"
Just like that you flicked the pages to go to the names that sounded similar to the girl's, mumbling her name under your breath as your finger traced down each name on the list.. to your dismay you couldn't find it.
"You don't seem to be on the list ma'am.. how weird.. does this usually happen with St. Peter?.." you spoke in concern, mumbling the last part to yourself.
The girl then started to explain something about her dad getting her a meeting, your mind a little clouded still trying to find her name until you heard the forbidden name that no one inside the pearly gates ever attempted to say out loud.
"-- maybe try, Lucifer.. Morning...star-"
And just like that you slammed the book closed, no words coming out of your mouth but an exasperated look of shock freezing your face.
"Oh-hoho... that explains so much--" you gave her a small sheepish smile, awkwardly looking off to the side where your eyes couldn't help but drag themselves to the man dressed in red.
"Miss you don't think.. you could've..." your eyes at first looked at the man's waist, his coat lightly shredded at the ends and the stripes of the long suit guided your eyes upwards "-gotten..." up and up and your eyes met his. The red eyes, the ears, the small horns, the horrific aura, and..
Oh dear, you'd recognize that damned smile anywhere.
"--lost..?" the end of your sentence dragged on, taking a long while to finish since all you could think about is how this man is at the front door step of the place he shouldn't even be considered in being let to enter.
Alastor, your father from the living realm. Not connected by blood but by life and connection.
The man where you got your last name from by being taken in and called his daughter.
The red deer demon seemed to recognize you as well, a spark in his devilish eyes proved it so, but it was very brief since he more or less also seemed to relish the look on your face with his smile stretched further up.. however further up it could get.
Charlie seemed concerned at your reaction, waving her hand in front of your face gently as if to get you out of this trance. "Heyyy... are you okay?.." she asked with genuine worry until all of you were focused away from this bizarre moment when a set of three angels befell before you all. The two seraphims and finally-- St. Peter off from his break.
"_____. We can take it from here, we appreciate the help." The highest and oldest seraphim announced your name and her appreciation while gliding down a bit more earlier than the blonde angel you covered for, she and the younger seraphim's forms going from their true to more human-like appearances.
"_____! My dear friend thank you so much for covering for me, always a real helper you!" St. Peter popped beside you as he praised you while gently flying beside you, you looked up at him with a small nervous smile before opening your own wings to flap down from his podium and let him get back on the job.
"It's no problem at all, you know me! Always.. happy to help.." you spoke your last words to him before your wings gently took you down to set yourself beside another one of your friends, Emily! You never talked much to Sera that wasn't in a formal setting but Emily seemed so easy to get along with. She gave you a tight squeeze of a hug while saying hello which eased your nerves a bit more, of course they never fully disappeared with the man who ruined everything before you let out your last breath.. standing right in front of you.
The man that brought you up here in the first place.
The seraphims introduced themselves to the three residents of hell, the deer demon more quiet until finally finding a spot of silence to jump in and introduce himself as well.
"Why hello, a real pleasure meeting you two quite the pleasure! Never thought I'd ever get to see an angel up this close in my life HAHA! The names Alastor!"
The voice, the radio static over it, his name.
It was him, you recognized it as if you listened to him on the radio just yesterday, your own personal hell.
Whatever reaction or words the higher ranked angels said seemed to fizzle out of your brain as they were replaced with the memories of your last moments on earth.
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"Father!" you screamed as you ran up to your childhood home, the home to which you were raised and kept in, your home in which you lived in with your father, Alastor Altruist.
For sometime you had suspected foul play when it came to your father's weird actions when the night came, the tone he spoke through his radio show when announcing several murders happening across and haunting New Orleans. You just didn't want to truly believe that the man that found you, a poor little orphaned baby, and raised you would do such disgusting and diabolical crimes.
You couldn't believe it.. until you finally saw it.
Your legs scrambled and fought each step to become faster, finally reaching the door of your home you slammed it open with a strong kick after jiggling the doorknob didn't work.
You knew the next murder he would commit would happen in your home.. you thanked whatever force that made you disobey him and look through his study since if you didn't you wouldn't know that right now there was blood to be shed.
The door opening and with your kick full of adrenaline and panic it made the door barley cling onto it's hinges. There your father was, on top of a wounded man that seemed to be gurgling and gasping to breathe as the victim attempted to claw at Alastor's grasp. Pieces of glass and wood broken across the entire floor, walls bloodied and worn out, pictures that hung neatly now cracked and lopsided or shattered on the floor.
Whatever happened in here, the victim was sure a fighter in the beginning.
You immediately without hesitation with full force pushed Alastor off the man, pulling the bloodied stranger by his wrist. The victim and you stared for a moment, him mostly realizing that he's being saved by a young girl like you. His lips parted to thank you but you could see Alastor raise his kitchen knife in the air and sprinted toward him to stab him on the back.
With no words left to share or spill you grabbed the stranger by the shoulders and with all your might pushed him and yourself away so that in the end Alastor ended up stabbing nothing but air.
Alastor grunted in frustration, his bloodied smile yet never faltering despite the challenge you now gave him.
The man snapped his head at you, eyes fixated at you before snapping back to his victim and raising his knife up once more, in a haunting motion his steps creeped and creaked towards the injured New Orleans citizen stricken with fear and terror.
Just like that, Alastor slams his knife down with no hesitation. The knife fully in his prey with no inch of the blade uncovered.
Oh-- wait.
That shriek, the sobs, the shaky breathing and the coughs of blood.. that wasn't his victim.
It was you.
His daughter, he stabbed his daughter.
For a moment you could see his crazed smile falter, the humane part of him uncovering itself for a moment, for you.
His little girl was covered in her blood because of him, the little baby he found on that cold rainy day is dying because of him, his bundle of joy that he took years to take care of is leaving him.. and it's all his fault.
He didn't know it was you-- he didn't know you'd be that stupid to sacrifice yourself for some random prick.
He didn't know that in the end, someone as evil as him could have raised someone as selfless as you.
"p..papa..?" you whimpered, your painful coughs of blood spilling out and going down your chin and your neck. "It hurts-- g.. it hurts so much papa.." you cried as the knife in your chest seemed to feel as if it was melting into your skin, becoming one with you. It obviously wasn't but the pain was just that painful.
Alastor's smile faltered and kept trying to stay up, his own set of tears falling down his face and onto your cheeks that were slowly losing life. Regret stabbing his own heart the way he did to yours. He let go of the knife and instead cradled you in his arms, just like how he used to when you would have nightmares as a little girl.
"Shh.. Shh.." he shush you softly as he gently patted your head, moving away any uneven strands of hair he could spot with his hands trembling in regret. "Little one.. don't worry about a thing, papa's here.. " he mumbled, the gentleness replacing what once was pure aggressiveness.
Your eyes slowly started to flutter closed, your pulse slowing down, breathing less profound, your limbs going limp, and your face.. contorting into a peaceful state of slumber.
Alastor watched as you passed in his arms, his faltering smile picking itself up once more to stretch itself across his face with tears pouring out his eyes. This wasn't a smile of joy, it was a smile to hide what he truly felt.. to lie to himself. "My little angel, forgive me please."
Those were his last words to you, words that in the end you couldn't hear.
And that man he tried to kill earlier? He escaped when he was given the chance, Alastor was sure the cops were to invade his home soon.. now there was just one thing left to do before he'd be found once again to pay the consequences.
He took your body to a beautiful forest filled with flower meadows. Alastor knew this was one of your favorite spots as a young girl, why not let you rest here.
Ah but as he was preparing to bury you in your final resting place... that darn deer hunter.
Well, you know the story. Mistaken for a deer, shot, that's the end of Alastor Altruist and his darling daughter, ______ Altruist.
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As you stood there you were awoken from your thoughts with the high angels escorting the princess and her other female companion into the gates of heaven, St. Peter welcoming them humbly with one of heaven's popular songs.
You were frozen, in shock. A chill went down your spine as you felt a foreign energy come closer.
You felt long fingers grapple themselves onto your shoulder which made you dramatically turn towards the hand and away from it.
Your father wanted to talk to you.
Your contrasting colors and appearances made this reunitement even more uncomfortable for you, his demon form seeming to match his disgusting self that he hid from the human world before.
His face was hard to read, especially with that signature smile of his that even in death he would never get rid of.
"Little one, my darling daughter.." he spoke, his voice seemingly trying to seem genuine but the radio filter over it made it feel condescending to you.. as if mocking you.
The look on your face was evident, you missed him so much but hated him with your entire being because of that hidden side he kept for years.
He continued "My little ____... out of all places I never thought I'd see you here. Oh but it's definitely much better than down under my little dove.."
Geez what was he even saying?? What were his intentions..?? You couldn't tell.. after all this time, you couldn't forgive this man, this serial killer, this demon, this.. monster. You couldn't.. not this soon anyways.
You took a deep inhale and exhale before fixing your posture and stance, trying to seem more professional and confident. "Sir, your hosts and companions are ahead of you. You wouldn't want to miss your introduction to a place you'll never see again after this day." Your voice stern and professional, trying your best to be void of emotion.
"Darling.. is that truly a way to greet your dear ol' father?" He spoke, hand stretched out while the other held onto his staff.
"Your friends are waiting on you, don't be late Alastor."
Just like that you turned your heel and gave him the cold shoulder, your wings spread and started flapping. Taking you up and away further into your home.. Alastor watched you as you left him once again, this time by choice.
Ah but he knew, he'd have his darling daughter back soon. His little angel that he cared for will forgive him.. he knew you had to.
With his grin widening even further he walked to catch up to the Princess of hell and her partner into the pearly gates, to see what other thing could entertain him while his daughter snapped back to her senses.
(hello!! thank you so much for reading I had a blast with this. as you can tell. once again thank you so much for reading! hope to see you soon! mwa mwa!)
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