#but now he can get into towns with just one of the chain saying that he is a wolf dog

[magpiepills]

Got Your Money

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+ MDNI

Pairing: Clint x sex worker!Reader

Word count: 2.1k

Summary: you’re a hooker who owes her pimp money and his right hand man, Clint comes to collect.

Warnings: SMUT! Including but not limited to: Porn with minimal plot, dub con, mean Clint, name calling and degradation, unprotected PIV, misogyny, rough sex, creampie, big dick, no beta, no proofreading, typos are all my own. You know what I’m about.

A word from the author: thanks to @youandmeand5bucks for the prompt that has had me in a tizzy for several days!

Masterlist

You’d barely made it past the front door when he knocked. Your dress was half unzipped down your back and your heels were left on the carpet where you’d stepped out of them.

It gave you pause. Nobody knocks this late. Not in this neighborhood. Not when you do the kind of work you do. You never did business here. You were careful and discrete and so was Angelo. He hustled and bargained and sold your ass for as much as he could. He made a pretty penny and paid for that Coupe Deville he liked to drive real slow around town when he took his cut, and he gave himself a very generous cut. He was a greedy son of a bitch, but he knew he better treat his top girl right. He wouldn’t put you at risk by letting anyone know where you stayed stashed away.

“I saw you walk in two minutes ago and I know you hear me. Open the fucking door,” the voice on the other side growled with the barest restraint. Clint. Of course.

You rolled your eyes and unlocked the door but kept the security chain latched, giving Clint three inches of room to say whatever dumb shit he needed to before he left to go back in whatever squalid shack he stayed in until Angelo yanked his chain too.

“I don’t have time for this bullshit, open the fucking door,” he boomed through the gap. “I’m coming in one way or another. You want your door on the hinges or off?”

He’s always like this.

You mutter under your breath at him coming between you and a hot bath after a long day, but you open the door anyway. He’s a fucking asshole but you know he’s safe. Angelo doesn’t trust many people anymore.

Clint pushes into your living room while you lock the door behind him, replacing the little chain that seems sort of useless now that you think about it. He stands in the middle of the room, hands on his slim hips, looking around. It offends you.

“What do you want, Clint? I had a long day and I’m going to bed. This better be important.”

His tongue flicks out over his bottom lip as he looks at you with that cold, detached look he likes to wear but doesn’t answer. Infuriating.

“Ok, just make yourself at home, then. I’m going to bed.” You turn a quarter step and tug up your sagging strapless dress, red, garish like they always like and aim casually for your bedroom.

“Let’s make this quick sweetheart. You know what the fuck I’m here for. Don’t play dumb. It’s dangerous.”

“Fuck off, Clint. I’m not doing this with you tonight,” you run your hand over your hair in exasperation and wished you’d never opened that door.

“Oh yeah?” he spits. “Tired after a long day of sucking and fucking? Yeah I bet you’re real worn out.”

In a fraction of a second your hand lands square across his scarred cheek, catching him by surprise and he’s a lot faster than you’d expect him to be for a man who smokes like a chimney and has all that grey hair. He grabs your wrist before you can run or defend yourself and twists your arm around your waist until he’s got your back to his chest and his arm braced against your now bare tits in a too-tight hold.

“Where’s the money?” He is too loud next to your ear and you wince, trying to be as cool as you can. Of course he wants the money. Good luck, you think to yourself. You learned a long time ago about keeping much cash around.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Clint. If Angelo sent you, you can tell him he’s got his cut. He’s never the one with rug burns. He gets his share and I get mine.”

It does nothing but instigate Clint further. He shakes you. “Do you think I’m stupid? You think you’re the first whore who tried to short a pimp?” He is hot with anger. He wanted to be at home too. He’s old and he’s tired but maybe he doesn’t mind so much since your dress has slipped down and he has the perfect view of your tits over your shoulder. Angelo never said he couldn’t have a little fun on the job.

To your shock and surprise, Clint slaps your breast. It stings before he soothes it with his big bear paw palm covering the welt he left and squeezing. You can’t stop the whine that creeps from your throat.

“If you don’t have the money I guess I gotta take it out in trade.”

You pant nervously, wriggling in his arms at the insinuation. Clint smiles against your neck and sinks his teeth into the slope of your shoulder just enough to make you whine for him.

“Just business. Doesn’t have to hurt if you can play nice. You know I’ve seen you playin real nice before.” You can feel him thickening against you, the length of him jutting against the cleft of your ass. You try half heartedly to shake out of his arms, but it just makes him laugh. “Alright. Act like you don’t want it. Like I can’t smell you dripping. Take dick all day long and you’re still ready for more,” he drags his hand across your sensitive nipple and up to your throat, pressing just softly against your pulse. “I can feel your heart beating and I know it’s not cause you’re scared.”

His hand moves again, moving down, over your belly and the fabric bunches around your waist. He helps himself to your body, rubbing and pinching. He pushes your dress down the rest of the way, letting it drop to the floor around your feet and covers your mound with his hand. You don’t realize that your head has tipped back against his shoulder as he spits you unceremoniously with two fingers.

He pulls them back out and holds his slick shiny fingers in front of your face so you can see your arousal stretching between his fingers. “Look at that. I know Angelo won’t let anybody bust in this pussy. This is all you, baby. Slick as fuck.”

He crudely sucks your wetness from his fingers and pulls you down with him when he flops down onto your sofa, pretty and creamy and soft, a stark contrast to his roughness, his dark, plaid.

“Does Angelo even know you’re here? You think he’s gonna let you come over here and threaten me?” You struggle against his hold, but he doesn’t seem to care.

Clint shifts you over to unbuckle his belt and undo his jeans, freeing his turgid member.

“Angelo’s the one who told me where to find you. Told me how good you ride him, too,” He says as he positions you back over his lap with his cock hot and hard as steel against your throbbing pussy. “You owe Angelo, Angelo owes me. So I think we can sort this out right here and now.” You can’t help the way your body heats. The men you see are often rough. They pound into you and take you with harsh strokes on half limp dicks, blaming you when they can’t stay hard. They want you to watch them or they want to watch you or they cry with their heads in your lap.

They don’t talk to you like this. They don’t use their cockhead to rub your clit until you’re moving your hips yourself to chase the pleasure the way Clint’s doing now. He covers his impossibly thick length in your slippery wetness, spreading it all around.

“You gonna give it to me, or am I gonna take it?” he asks with a sharp swat against your ass.

You lick your lips and close your eyes, you’re still focused on how big he feels between your legs as you sigh. “Take it,” you breathed.

He was going to do it anyway. He presses you down on his cock, stealing your breath with the sheer size of him. He takes a moment with his hands firm on your hips, pushing down and thrusting up to full depth, holding you there, giving you that deep ache that so many men can’t.

Before you could even get your head around the way he stretched you past what you thought was possible, he was driving into you with enough force to make you wail. You were grateful that such noise wasn’t something that would raise an alarm in this building. People minded their business.

You arched your back and planted your feet on his thighs for a little control, but Clint was in charge.

“Yeah, that’s right. You feel this cock all the way in your throat? You still want to act like a bitch?”

You whined a response to his vulgar talk but he didn’t care. He liked hearing how fucked up you were on his cock.

“Fuck,” he shoved your knees down. “fuck your self on this dick.” You rebalanced on shaky legs and slowly slid your swollen, soaked pussy up and down the length of him. His hands found your ass and slapped it while you worked him up and down, making your skin sting and heat. “Come on, you got a debt to pay. Show me what this little whore pussy’s worth.” Your thighs trembled, and Clint grew impatient.

“Up,” he commanded. You stood and he shoved you toward your bedroom, following close behind you.

The streetlight shone in the window, casting stripes of light and shadow through your blinds and across the bed. You crossed your arms over your chest as Clint undressed himself, clothes heaped on the floor, along with his heavy boots. He scoffed at the way you tried to hide your body. “Get on the bed. Lay down.”

You climbed to the middle of your queen size bed, neatly made as it was every morning, with your heart shaped pillow between the two regular pillows, the chenille bedspread tucked in just so. Clint stood at the end of your bed, stroking himself while he inspected your body.

“Legs up. Spread your pussy for me. Let me see how fucked open you are.”

You drew your knees up and rubbed your clit in a messy circle, then dipped two fingers into your wet hole, followed by a third that made you groan. “You’re so fucking sick, Clint.”

“Yeah? I’m sick? You’re the one selling her greedy snatch in the street. Spread your pussy.” You did as he said, your manicured fingernails framing your delicate folds, swollen and wet so he could see how your entrance clenched for him.

“Look at that,” he marveled sarcastically, "Angelo's million dollar pussy.” He stared at your body, then spat, a thick glob of saliva dripped over your nails and mixed with your arousal. “You’re never gonna be happy with another dick again. You’ll be begging me to come over and shut you up.”

Clint tapped his cock against your pussy and entered you in one powerful thrust, bottoming out while he held the back of your knees. He leaned over you, folding you in half to hammer hard and fast, punching into your squelching pussy. He grunted above you, his body warm and sweat gathering along his hairline.

“Clint!” you yelped, nails cutting into his biceps. “Clint!” You couldn’t get out the words you needed. He kept you pinned in place while he devoured you, making the pressure and heat you felt grow.

“That’s it, say my name. Tell everybody in the place who’s got you screaming like a bitch.”

You felt delirious, your body was all raw nerves and that familiar pressure, until one snap of his hips and scrape of his coarse hair over your clit did you in. Your orgasm was intense. Rippling and wet and hot, you were suspended in protracted pleasure. You didn’t even notice Clint was coming too, pumping you full. He never even offered to wear a condom, and you kicked yourself for not insisting. Of course he wouldn’t have worn one, he never does.

Clint slipped out of you, followed by a trickle of cum that dripped onto your sheets. As you caught your breath, your body limp and exhausted, he pushed your knees apart and spread your tender pussy with his thick thumbs.

“I wish I had a camera,” he said with an ugly pride. “Bet you this pussy won’t ever be the same now.”

Without sentimentality, Clint got dressed, tied his boots, and turned to where you remained on your bed and said with a sinister wink “We’ll call that a partial payment.”

[zmediaoutlet]

If u ever want to elaborate on the sam/deanna d/s 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

Sam doesn't say much, Michigan City to Joliet to Rockford. Fine with Deanna, who doesn't have much she could say back. She drives fast but not fast enough they'd get pulled over and she stops for gas when they need it. When she's dealing with the gas cap Sam asks if she wants anything from inside and there's a space in her throat where words should be but nothing comes out. She shakes her head. She doesn't look at him but she can imagine Sam's face. The so-slight narrowing of his eyes, the way his jaw goes a harder shape. His boots crunch on the gravel into the c-store and she's left with the empty space. Except it isn't empty, is it.

Mark looked small in the hospital bed. Sat beside it Ben had looked smaller, more like the eight year old birthday boy he'd been when she met him. Cas had done his job. Mark watched her in the doorway, curious and then surprised and then vaguely forgiving, and his eyes were the same soft brown they'd always been and his smile came just as easy, and there wasn't a fleck of recognition. Ben was just puzzled—faced with some woman, who apparently couldn't drive, babbling some dumb apology—and nowhere in him was the kid she'd tucked in at night, or the kid she'd shown how to jump a battery and change a tire, or the kid she'd picked up from school after her shift at the diner and kissed absently on the head and said she'd look out for him, she'd keep him safe, no matter what. Another lie to stack on the pile. After the life she'd had, you'd think she'd know better by now.

A motel in Freeport. Yellow blankets and bad carpet. They drop their bags and Deanna looks at the two beds and the last thing in the goddamn world she wants to do is sleep. Sam picks up the keys, says, "I'll get food," and the door closes quietly behind him, and she's alone finally, and if she were another kind of person it'd be space to cry. It'd make sense to. A boy she'd loved and a man she could've stayed with, maybe gotten old with even though getting old is something she thought she'd never be able to do—gone. Permanently, this time. No doors left half-cracked, no maybe-somedays on the horizon. An entire year of her life, longer, cut out like a failing liver. Better for everyone to have it cleaned out and gone.

In the shower she's slow, thorough. A week straight of hunting didn't leave a lot of time for hygiene. She shaves, careful, and washes everything, and with her hair in a knot of conditioner she cleans the telltale rime of blood from under her fucked-up nails and remembers the last demon laughing at her even with it coughing up the ruined salt-shredded lining of its throat and how it said Crowley was right about you, wasn't he? Pathetic bitch even can't give up second-rate dick. Didn't think it'd be this easy.

Sam's back when she's out. "Got Chinese," he says, through the half-open door, and she says thanks but sits on the edge of the tub, wrapped in the yellow towel, keeps working on her nails. Two of them tore while she was killing the demons outside where they'd chained Mark. She doesn't know why she ever tries to grow them out. One cracked, almost to the quick, when she was ripping Mark's arm away from Ben's throat when the demon had filled him, when it had smiled at her with bloody teeth and black eyes and said god, you're a dumb cunt. You think he isn't glad you're gone? He wishes he'd slammed the door in your face when you came crawling with the sob story about your dead bro. Well—maybe after a blowjob. Might as well get some use out of the slut.

In the room the television turns on, loud at first and then Sam curses and it's quieter. Evening news. Rain in the forecast, next week. Construction on I-90 starting soon. Deanna files her nails smooth, even repetitive scrapes of the emery board, and listens while the report turns somber, an unsolved murder a few towns over—a dead wife, a shocked and mourning husband—and the police have leads but no answers, and if anyone has any information, please call the tip line. Please help. She rubs her thumb over her middle fingernail, feels a burr that needs correcting, and applies the file there again and sees Mark gouting blood into the warehouse floor and Mark pushing her hair back from her face in their bed and Mark opening that door that night in May, when she'd truly felt like a cannon had been shot right through her center and all the organs were gone, and Mark lifting his chin, brave despite everything, when she said she had to go with her miraculously-returned brother, and how he knew, maybe, then. He wouldn't say it, not ever, but. She thinks maybe then.

She wants the file to be the demon knife, and she wants the black-eyed fuck that was in Mark on her personal table, strapped still, and she wants to make it slow, to make it hurt. Wants to skin it down to black flensed bone and pare open its fears and make herself one of them. Whether in the body of Mark or not, really. Wants to see its eyes blister wide and know the rot is in her too but it didn't matter because she was making it hurt the way she was hurt and it would mean she wasn't thinking about the ways she'd pulled this kind man down into her undertow. Just some dentist, with a kid she could look after, who'd opened his house for her not knowing the poison death that rippled in her wake. He'd known there were things wrong with her but not the extent. When she'd lost what really mattered, she followed orders like she always goddamn did and she went to his house and hadn't told the full truth of how her spine had been ripped out of her body and how she'd never really be the same—she'd said hi, and that she was sorry to interrupt dinner, and he'd taken her in his arms and he'd cupped his hand around the back of her head and it hadn't been right, his smell was wrong and his clothes were too nice and he wasn't tall enough. He was soft and he was careful and she didn't want either.

Sam's on the bed closer to the door, stripped down to grey t-shirt, grey boxer-briefs. White boxes with the pagoda logo on the table; he left her both fortune cookies. She ignores them and goes to her bag, finds the bottle of rye she hasn't quite killed—mostly uppers, last week, staying awake to extract information out of as many demons as she could—and necks a swallow, straight. It burns, and burns hotter on an empty stomach. In another mood she could get very, very drunk.

That first night she made Mark fuck her. He didn't want to but she knew how to make a man use her to her purpose. She'd ended up on her belly with his hand over her mouth so she wouldn't make noises Ben could hear, but he'd been gentle and he'd said, quiet against the back of her ear, I've got you, Deanna, and even if it was almost the shape of what was lost it wasn't enough, it wasn't nearly enough, but it was a bandage at least. She didn't expect to still be bleeding.

"Are you gonna eat," Sam says. Without much expectation.

He's got his eyes on the television, a line between straight brows. He was pissed at her earlier; now she doesn't know what he is. Normally that'd tear at her, especially after these months of fretting over the wall, but right now she just needs him—here. Whether he likes her is secondary.

Deanna kneels up quick on the bed, throws her thigh over both of Sam's. He startles, like he wasn't tracking how she moved. "Sloppy," she says, holding out the bottle.

He takes it but doesn't drink, that line still right there between his eyebrows. He's gonna get wrinkles before her, at this rate. "We've got to head to Bobby's in the morning," Sam says.

Like she's stupid. Well, maybe she is. Deanna folds her hand over the knot of towel anchored over her left tit and that place is still bleeding and she doesn't know any other way to stanch it, really. She puts on a smile. Not the five hundred dollar a night one but close. "That's in the morning," she says, and settles more comfortably in his lap, her thighs splaying wider and her hips canting forward. These shitty motel towels aren't that big and there's a shadowed split below that draws Sam's eyes straight down. Predictable. Even after this awful weird year. Could almost make her smile real. "C'mon."

Unfortunately Sam's more of a grown-up than he was when her best teasing wheedle could get him to do almost anything, when the mood was right. Though the mood now's not exactly—"Dee," Sam says, sighing, and that's—Sam when he's pretending like he's the older one, when he's pretending like he's the one with all the answers. Like they haven't both been blundering in the dark since they weren't tall enough to see over the steering wheel.

She steals the remote and turns off the TV. Then she takes the bottle back out of his hand and he watches her, still fucking frowning like she doesn't know he disapproves of everything she's ever chosen to be—but she takes a deep swallow, anyway, cocking the bottle high and watching him right back while she does it, and she fucks her lips off the bottle like it's a cockhead and she licks her lower lip like it was Dom and Sam might think he's better than this but his pupils go big and he tracks the flash of her tongue like it's a werewolf they're coursing through the woods and he's not that high-and-mighty, now, is he. Deanna leans forward, obvious, to set the bottle down on the bedside table, and she comes in close enough that her tits push against Sam's chest and his head's right over the curve of her shoulder—she can hear it when he takes a deep quick breath—and she takes her time sitting back up, smelling him, too. That end-of-the-day Sam smell that's the most comforting thing in the world. A little sweaty, a little gross. Blood and gunsmoke and this salty warm separate thing that goes straight to her hindbrain. Thousands of shared motel rooms, and in good times shared beds too, and it's what has always meant, to her, morning. When things were okay.

When she sits up straight she makes sure she's really close. Sam can probably see the clogged pores in her chin that she hasn't had time to straighten out. She lays her hands on his chest, drags them down to feel his ribs expand with his breath. "Been a minute," she says. Has the benefit of being true. They haven't since—shit, since before Sam proved Cas was lying to them? Weeks, at least. "C'mon, you aren't all blue-balled?"

"Blue balls aren't a thing," Sam says, and Deanna slips a hand down between them to where he's thick and obvious in the boxer-briefs and clutches warm over all that good and says, "Liar," and Sam finally, finally touches her. Grips her arms, hard.

Deanna wants it harder. She rolls her fingers under the heavy weight of his nuts and he squeezes her triceps, eyes tightening, but he doesn't move more than that. "God, you're a lot of work."

"Takes one," he says, and she huffs even if something's going hard and painful in the pit of her stomach. Why does it make her pussy clench, too.

She pushes up, between his legs into the thick muscle of his taint, and his chest heaves for that one, a deep steadying, warning. Her tongue flicks against her lower lip, not even intentionally—she notices only when she sees his eyes have gone to her mouth again. Her thumb slips over the thickening weight of his dick and she looks down, where it's heavy and starting to strain the thin grey fabric, and she says, not meaning to be honest, "It's been a shitty week." Makes Sam's hands go lighter on her arms. Not what she wants, not at all, and she swallows and is honest again when she says, "You six months ago would've already fucked me by now," and—

Huge hands on her waist, then, hard and gripping. "That what you want?" Sam says, deeper—that pissed-off tone she hardly ever surprises out of him, anymore—and Deanna says, "Don't ask me what I fucking want," and leans forward and mashes her mouth against his, demanding and with none of the skills she could've brought and actually a really shitty kiss, if they were trying to make this a good time, but that's not what's in the cards, tonight. Sam opens up and grabs the back of her head and fucks his tongue into her mouth and she gives as good as she's getting, biting his lip, getting her hands in his hair, pulling, demanding. Begging, but at least he's not making her do it out loud.

It works, finally. Sam tears the towel open, gets a hand on her left tit and squeezes. Hard and it hurts, fuck, but her hips squirm in, too, her pussy clenching again. Deanna fucks her tongue against his and then he pulls away, drops to her throat, biting. Breathing deep, scraping his teeth over the tendon. She raises up on her knees, makes it easier, but he just ducks his head and bites the top curve of her tit instead, right over the tattoo they share. When she hisses he smiles and then he goes slower, drags teeth against the stupidly-excited bullet point of her nipple, flicks his tongue there, makes her drag in shaky air like a nervous kid. The towel unspools away. For a minute he settles in, there, lipping and carefully lapping, first-boyfriend-sweet except that Deanna's had her little brother's cock blocking her airway until she actually honest-to-god blacked out and she knows that Sammy's sweet comes with all the salt she could ever want. She grips his shoulders and shivers and he squeezes her ass, bruise-tight and pulling the cheeks apart, and god, she wants him. Every part of him. She wasn't joking about the soulless self but even that, raw and furiously terrible as it turned out to be, it didn't come close. Closer than Mark had, but—

Mark's gone. That's the whole point. "Sammy," she says, panting already, and he pulls off her nipple and kisses the soft inside where he bit and the center of her breastbone and then drags his chin up that skin. He hasn't shaved in a few days and it scrapes, tingling. "Sam, come on."

"Don't tell me what to do," Sam says. For a second he really sounds like he had six months ago and she digs her fingers into his shoulders, clenching stupid fistfuls of his undershirt—but then he grabs her, shoves, and she goes over backwards on the bed, her head bouncing against the wrong end by the foot and her legs sprawling open. Undignified, unsexy, but Sam doesn't seem to care because he kneels up between her knees, drags his shirt off over the back of his head so his hair scatters messy and she can see him. Fuck, he's big. Bigger than her, obviously, has been ever since he turned sixteen and shot up ten inexplicable inches, and then a few more at college just for fun—but bigger than anyone else, too, bigger than all those other inadequate assholes who'd never managed to be enough. She drags her heels up on the bed and cups a hand over her pussy and Sam says, "Yeah," and she grabs the tit he'd marked up and squeezes it and he says, "Yeah," again, lower. His dick really pushing out the front of his briefs now, massive and caught in this sideways angle over his hip, distending the fabric enough that the waistband's pulled down and she can see the start of his bush. He always used to keep it tidier, before this year. The difference is making her mouth water.

"What'd you do?" Sam says. Hard, like he's asking if she made another trip down to the crossroads. Deanna shakes her head, doesn't get it. Rolls her fingers over the mound and dips between her lips—jesus, she's wet. Syrup she slicks through, testing. Sam grips the inside of her right thigh and presses it flat down to the mattress so she's tipped open to the lamplight and blood flushes through her whole body, feels like, even after all these years. "Tell me. What'd you do with him?"

Nothing that mattered is the answer but that's cruel and Sam isn't—since he's reassembled he isn't—"Jealous?" she says, thinly, this queasy weird thing dumping down from the top of her spine. She's not a bit less hot for him and that's something maybe to look at another day, or week, or never. She scrubs over her pussy lips all fat with blood and then pushes in two fingers, knuckle-deep all at once, distracting herself and him, hopefully. Sam's eyes are black, practically. Another too-hot thing. She gulps air, curls her fingers, says, "Don't we have something better to do?"

Sam gets closer, leans over her. His hand hurts on her inner thigh and she flexes and he doesn't give an inch. "Like you ever spared me a detail," he says, dry. His eyes skip from her crotch to her tit to her face. He teases soft at the underside of her other breast, tracing the way it tips out to the side, electricity coursing straight from there to her cunt. She clenches around her own fingers, shudders. "Not allowed to remember. Tell me."

Deanna blinks, lips dry. Oh—not Mark, not that tender stupid pointless year, but he means—when his hands were harder and his eyes flat as a snake's and even so she'd been so sore and dumb and helpless with wanting him that she'd bent over, gone to her knees, really had begged, shock-drunk at how much she'd missed everything that being Sam's sister had meant. When finding out the truth had hurt ten times as much as leaving Mark in that hospital room had. He draws a ticklish little circle around her nipple and she abandons her other tit, pushes up on her elbow, rolls her hips on the bed. Sam's eyes on her mouth, now. "No," she says.

His jaw goes hard. "Fine," he says, and jerks her fingers out of her cunt and flips her onto her belly, fast enough that she bounces again. He grabs her hips and yanks her bodily back onto her knees, her ass shoving up into the cradle of his hips and feeling, oh fuck yeah, feeling the fat curve of his cock pressing against her, ready.

Deanna rocks back against him, on her elbows on the slick comforter, helps him grind where he's wanted. "Get your fingers back in," Sam says, and she gives up stability to do it, reaching between her thighs and the angle's worse but she hooks in, pulls, her palm grinding against her clit, and Sam groans finally. He pulls her ass open again, getting a better view. She pulls out, rubs her fingers around, clenches empty and pushes her fingers back in with an actual squelch, and Sam spanks her ass, sharp, grabs the spot he hit and squeezes hard enough that it aches.

There's nothing in the world she wants more than his dick. Peace between earth heaven and hell and monsters gone and the beloved dead risen—none of it matters more than this. She pushes her gasping mouth against her bicep and forces her eyes open, sees the room blurred. Whiskey bottle on the bedside table, yellow lamplight casting a murky amber curve on the water-damaged veneer. The yellow curtains with their gross stains. The other bed, and why'd they even bother with it. Why aren't they tangled like this all day, all the time.

"Tell me," Sam says, low. He leans down over her, kisses her shoulders, holding her hips again. His dick rolls against her ass and she could almost come, like this. "Say it."

Like it's a challenge. "Please," Deanna says, immediately. "Sammy, c'mon. Please."

"Dee," he groans, and his hand slides around her hip, covers where she's masturbating for real, now, fucking her fingers inside and squeezing, needing him. Her fingers so wet. Blood spilling, thick and viscous, coating her to the wrists.

Her eyes screw shut and she yanks her hand away, reaches back, grabs him where she can. "Fuck me," she says, forehead against the bed, chest down against the blanket, a world of muffled dark—"Please, Sammy, I need—can you fuck me, please, I need it, I need—"

His hand snakes over her mouth, huge, covering half her face. She puffs air through her nose and it makes this stupid whimpering sound and she's down in the pit, now, she's gone, she's ready to cry for it if she has to but he just needs to—

Snap of elastic, warm skin against her ass finally instead of cotton. She struggles to spread her knees wider, slip-sliding on the polyester, but Sam doesn't need her help and never has. Thick push of the heavy pole between her thighs, a heavy teasing saw through her pussy lips and up against her clit, so good her back lurches and she grabs back at his hip, finding a twist of pushed-down fabric, pulling stupidly and desperate—but then, thank god, he pulls back, and pushes, in.

A frozen second in the black world. There's always this moment every time where she's split wide, this shock. How big he is. Even when she's this hot for it. A shock, queasy, and she remembers being on her belly on a table in a world of hot iron shadow and the line stretching, she was promised, all the way up to heaven—her eyes open against the blanket, seeing nothing at all—and then Sam breathes out hard against her shoulder and he gets her hand off his hip and presses her wrist down to the blanket and he says, "Like that," soft, and she's with her brother where she belongs, doing exactly what she's meant to, and the sound she lets out would wake half the motel if it weren't muffled behind his hand.

He fucks her hard. Always does, when they get like this. Churning his hips at first, testing rocks, but he doesn't need to go easy with her and she doesn't want him to. Deanna yanks at her wrist and he holds it harder, and she gasps and then bites against his palm and he grips her face hard enough to bruise, and then slides his hand down her throat, holding her in this underhand grip across her chest that keeps her exactly where she's wanted. She fights just long enough to prove she can't win. Then he nails her hard enough that he knocks her cervix, painful and sharp and knifing its way through her belly, and she half-screams into the mattress and then relaxes, all at once, her muscles jelly in the cage he's made of his body, her thighs giving up.

"God, yeah," Sam says, fervent. He lets go of her wrist—she leaves her hand there, loose and shocked—and shoves her legs together, resettling with his knees on the outside of hers, and when he grinds back in it's tighter, wilder. His dick thick as a country. Her other arm's trapped between her belly and the mattress and she manages enough control to slip down just enough to press light against the top of her mound, the close-trimmed hair prickling, sweat slicking everywhere, what thought arrives from some distant place that isn't occupied with the pounding rhythm inside and his chest broad and hot over her back and his balls clapping against her thighs, god—thinking, she should be able to feel it there, too. Like in dreams. His dick curving up inside and through and pushing places it should never go, but if it carved out a space just for itself, maybe it wouldn't leave. Maybe they'd be locked together. Maybe he'd stay.

She clenches, her ass tipping up. This curving heat. "That's it," Sam says, while she gasps. "You want more?" Deanna nods blind and Sam grunts, nails her harder but no faster, rhythm shoving slick into the pit of her. Somehow above her he tips, his chest flat against her back and his free hand finding one tit, gripping. Hair prickling against her shoulderblades. Her throat hurts and she realizes she's making some kind of noise but that's distant to what's happening inside, winding this tighter knot, but she can't—she's not quite—until Sam's hand clamped over her collarbones slides up, squeezes, and the dark world goes hazier, stranger. She hauls in thin air and he grips around the column over her throat and everything's strange shimmering dizziness, collapsing around her until it's just the jolt inside and the clench as he shoves everything into her and his lips open wet against the back of her neck and her body, his.

Stubble against her shoulder. A kiss on the round joint, and then on the curve of her neck. Sweat's broken out over every inch of skin and it kind of stinks. Not in a bad way. She takes a careful breath and feels it open her chest and around her throat Sam's hand is careful, soft. His thumb stroking repetitive little stripes over her slowing pulse. Deanna hums, tickling his palm, and he huffs out against her skin and lets go, cautious, sliding his fingers down her chest, her side. Her hip, which hurts for some reason. Probably something to do with asking for it to hurt.

Another kiss against her neck and then he's turning her over, keeping her close and laying right back down over her and kissing her throat and her jaw and then her temple, where—oh, it's wet, and she reaches up and grasps his arms and he says shh and he says okay? and the answer is yes, of course it's okay, because it's Sam and her and Sam and her is all that's ever okay. In the whole world it's the only thing she knows is true. She turns her head and he pushes the damp waves back from her face and puts his forehead to the angle of her jaw and breathes out this long slow breath, tickly hot against her sweaty throat, and she plumbs some immensely deep well and manages to get the wherewithal to slip a hand into his hair, fingers tracing the funny bump at the back of his skull, the one he's had ever since he was a baby. She used to feel over it when she snuck into his crib, after the fire. In beds they shared when they were six and ten, and he was so small, and she thought she'd have to keep him safe from every monstrous thing there ever was.

When he lifts up she opens her eyes. Frowning, again. No surprise. "Your face is gonna stick that way," Deanna mumbles. Hoarse.

He's watching her, very close. "I'll take my chances," he says. His hand slides over her side, careful. His mouth opens and then closes, lips tightening.

"I don't wanna talk." His chin ducks but she tugs on the little tangle of hair she's made and he looks up at her. "Don't ask, okay? I can't…"

What goes there? Number of things she can't do could fill a book. A library. Sam doesn't say anything but just pulls her in, rolls her closer, and she tucks her head down against his bicep and her nose touches his chest and she's just—warm, all the way from the top of her head to her toes, and she's throbbing so many places it's not worth counting, and there's this fuzzy place in her hindbrain that doesn't suck. Miracle of miracles. She slips a hand between her thighs and cups where it's wet, where it hurts. Slick mess. The one thing she never got, all that year. Always careful, because even if it was a point-oh-one percent chance the ramifications would've been impossible. They're impossible anyway. But there's still a second, sometimes, where she thinks…

"I'll get—" Sam starts, but before he can get far she grips his arm.

"It can wait." He pauses, uncertain, half-tense until she pulls and he gives in, draping his arm heavy over her side and letting his dumb pointy nose touch her hairline. She ducks down and kisses his tattoo and he sighs, but not in that hard-done-by way of before. Not much to smile about the last month or five but that gets her nearly there.

Deanna stretches against him, aching. The world outside the bed, still waiting. Past their vague reek of sweat and pussy and jizz commingling is a tempting waft of Chinese food. Soy and garlic. A drink or two, left in that bottle. In the morning, a drive, and impossible choices after.

Sam kisses the top of her head. "It'll wait," he says, soft. With her eyes closed and his skin against hers she can almost bear it.

[weepingtalecowboy]

Twilight ain’t a Wolfie … he wolf doggo… Woggo

Fanfic prompt:

You see the dumb thing I realized looking at wolf link is that wolf link doesn’t really look all that much like a wolf

More like a dog with wolf aesthetic

But then it gets cursed because looking at his frame and body proportions

It gets very clear that his body isn’t as slender and the space between his front legs is much larger then a normal wolves

Hind legs to wide

Ears not truly right for a wolf

Not afraid off people like a usual wolf would be

His face looks wolf like at first but the proportions are off as well

You know which animal fits this….?

That’s right a wolf dog

A dog/wolf hybrid would fit the rather odd proportions and the lack of fear

…

And that is incredibly cursed

The chain might not even notice because it is surprisingly hard to tell wolf dogs apart from wolves

To them Wolfie is a dog anyway lol

But Malon being a farmer since childhood who usually have to deal with wolves and sometimes even their dogs creating offsprings with them (or at least heard about it from other farmers who have wolf dogs by accident lol …it happens more often than people think)

And being very concerned about the implications of Twilight

Telling Time

Their descendant's beast form looking like a wolf dog…

WTF are those implications what is anyone meant to do with this information

Time be like “Twilight explain how you look half dog ,please !?!?!”

Twilight who just never thought about it that much “how could you do this to me !?”

It’s not making it easier for twilight that the golden wolf is his ancestor

Time just decided to get him a collar and now the chain has a good explanation for why Wolfie is allowed into towns

…

He is unfortunately a dog (they were laughing for a while about poor woggo twilight )

The conversations with guards are so not worth having access to towns as Wolfie

[neoarchipelago]

No but imagine finding zombie!ghost. He obviously is different, doesn't try to attack you, his jaw looks broken. He steps away from you as soon as he realizes you're in the same room. You take pity on him, and you lower the gun pointed on his head. Very contradictory, ending him would probably end his suffering. But there's something in his white dead eyes that shows an ounce of something.

You Cary on your way but remain in the same small town. You see him run around once in a while, fighting other zombies. He's one of the fastest zombies you've seen since the outbreak. It sends chills of terror through your body. Sometimes you catch his eye as you rummage through some leftovers left in the houses. He tilts his head, once he even seems to keep away an undead that got too close.

But that couldn't be true. After all... he's just a corpse... infected by a brain controlling virus.

After two weeks of seeing him, from afar and sometimes way too close, you start to wonder what's so different about him. You lay awake in the bed of an abandoned bedroom after you've secured the house you're in. Until you hear footsteps. Quite ones. Human ones.

You panic and rush to jump on your knife, ready to fight but the door flies open and a large man jumps on you, you kick and fight, stabbing him in the shoulder blade but he pins you down. And you think it's over, that's it. Until a common growl is heard. And suddenly it's him, dragging the man on top of you away. Scratching at his throat while blood gushes out. You want to throw up but you're so shocked you can't look away.

When the man doesn't move anymore, he turns to you, looking at you and tilting his head. You tried to catch your breath. He just saved you. Now you're sure he's different. You crawl to him and he takes a step back. You raise your hands in surrender and you watch him fall to his knees. You scan his attire, a military man obviously. You can't seem to find a name. Until you remember that they have dog tags. You scoot closer, he flinches.

"I just... want to see your dog tags. Do you understand?"

What are you doing? Talking to a zombie who probably doesn't understand you anymore. That simply has a tiny bit of humanity left. Probably not for long. Your hands raise slowly and he doesn't move. Your heart is beating so fast and so loudly in your ears. When your fingers touch his cold neck you shiver, trying to touch a hint of a chain. Until you do. And you slowly retrieve the tags from underneath his vest.

"Lt. Simon 'ghost' Riley." You read. "Simon..." he growls almost annoyed. "Ghost?" You try. He lowers his head.

You don't know if you're in shock or dreaming. You scan his vest, a hint of paper in one of his front pockets intriguing your brain. You point at it.

"Can I see?"

He doesn't make a move so you tempt it. You retrieve it, it's a picture. A squad with four men. Him, obviously and three others. Behind, 'task force 141' is roughly scribbled.

"your team... are they dead?"

No answer. As if he could speak.

"you're... looking for them?" You tempt, frowning slightly.

He growls. Yes. He is. He's kept his humanity for a little while. Because he wants to find his team.

You sigh, putting back the picture in his pocket carefully and his dog tags in his vest. You keep scanning him, looking at his attire his face, the blood and dirt.

"We should get you a little cleaning..." you say mindlessly. He tilts his head.

He saved your life. You owe him. You owe this undead man. Should you help him? After all... you aren't busy with anything else but surviving.

[0wlettie]

sfw, jealousy & light angst, gege usage, dogboy!caleb thoughts cont. pt.II (pt. I), wc 3.4k

dogboy!caleb who you grow closer with as the weeks pass. he becomes the closest, most important person to you besides your grandma. closer than a friend but not really a brother, you decide that he’ll be your gege from now on; something that lights him up from the inside out when he hears you call him that, tail wagging so hard that you’re scared it’ll fall off. you do everything together like watch movies—both scary and not—and play games, go out for walks and to play at the park. you’re both attached at the hip, living in each other’s shadow. where one goes the other is sure to follow, and while it does kind of worry your grandma, she also realizes that this is better than you being lonely. you smile more; are quicker to laugh and joke rather than retreat into yourself. so despite her initial trepidation, she lets things play out how they will.

dogboy!caleb who greets you after you get home from school with snacks ready and a movie already paused on the t.v. some mishap with his paperwork forces him to wait some time until he’s ready to attend classes, so you’ve got plenty of time to spend together all on your lonesome; your grandma taking more shifts at a local pharmacy since caleb can watch over you now instead of your next door neighbors. sometimes he surprises you with something you’ve never seen before, and no matter how much you pester him on how he found the obscure movie, show or anime, he never says a word. it’s an exciting time for you, and you find that no matter what you do, he never seems to mind taking care of you. whether that means he has to coddle you because you wake up in a mood or if he has to deal with your clinginess, always wanting to pet his ears and tail, as well as playfully wrestle with him whenever he teases you too much. he’s just as eager to be around you as you are him, and it makes you feel special.

dogboy!caleb who transfers to your school a month and a half after coming home. your town is a bit on the small side, so they often combine some of the younger kids with some of the older ones, and your school happens to double up as both an elementary and a middle school. you’re ecstatic! he’s a little older than you so you don’t have the same classes, but you two get to walk home together. and, when he’s got free periods, he walks over to your class and your teacher allows you two to hang out! for once, you find school to be exciting to attend rather than something to be afraid of. for once, you don’t eat lunch alone and miserable.

dogboy!caleb who is unsurprisingly popular at school. it takes a little while for other kids to warm up to him—hybrids are rare in your town, and they’ve never been around a hybrid kid before—but in no time at all, they’re practically tripping over themselves to get close to him. something that initially doesn’t bother you as much, because you’re proud that your gege is so well liked! you get to show him off, and you soak up the jealous glares and awed looks you get when he walks you home, swinging your held hands together while you babble on about your day.

dogboy!caleb who quickly rises to the top of the social food chain; joining the basketball team, being nominated to be on the student council, having some of the top scores, etc, etc. He’s got loads of people and obligations vying for his attention, from his buddies from the team to the student council planning for school events to being asked to tutor in study groups. as weeks turn into months, you end up seeing him less and less as he gets busier and busier with his extracurriculars. you often have to wait for him in the library so you can walk home together, and it slowly begins to bother you when you're stuck there for hours and hours at a time. watching his classmates fawn all over him, laughing and joking, smiling without a care in the world. as pretty girls older than you giggle and twirl their hair, leaning in close to his face to layer compliment after compliment on him. while you’re left to sit in the corner, alone and brooding as he shoots you the occasional apologetic grimace.

dogboy!caleb who begins to notice that you’ve grown quiet on your walks back from school. you’re fine by the time you two get back home, and maybe you cling to him a little harder, but it’s nothing too out of the usual. but he can just feel something is off whenever the day starts again and the cycle back home repeats. And repeats. And repeats until even going to sleep doesn’t dissuade your pensive, almost angry mood. and he tries everything to make you smile, to make you happy but nothing really seems to work anymore. you give him the cold shoulder, reply to his questions with silences or curt words. you two don’t even watch movies anymore, and he gets progressively panicked the more and more you seem to drift away no matter how hard he tries to keep you in his hold. your grandma notices, because of course she does, but the you refuse to answer her questions, and caleb has none to give. she knows that you are a bit of a handful in terms of temperament; snappy and standoffish when you fall into one of your moods. she figures that this must be ones of those times, and she opts to wait just a little bit before she really puts her foot down.

dogboy!caleb who once again leads you to the library. it’s another study group this time. its supposed to be him and a few of his teammates, but when you two walk through the doors, it’s a lot…bigger than he expects. it's a few of his team milling about the large table where their usual study sessions happen, as well as a whole bunch of girls from his class. he notices how your already sour mood worsens, and a low whine is building up in his throat before he forcibly swallows it back down. glancing at you, he offers a smile that screams out an apology. you hardly react, flicking over him with dark, unreadable eyes before you sigh and begin to shuffle away. your hair is down today, and he can smell the remnants of your vanilla shampoo once you sharply duck his outstretched hand. it stings something fierce when you shoot him a mean glare, but before he can possibly ask what’s wrong--what he did to make you look at him like that--you’ve already turned your back to him. you angrily stalk over to your designated corner, roughly tossing your bag down onto the floor; snagging a book from the inside before you bury your nose in the pages.

dogboy!caleb who ignores the call of his name, following after you without hesitation. your hide your face within the paperback held in between your small hands, and it causes a something heavy and painful to weigh down on his chest when you ignore his presence. his shadow casts over your form, and even though every hair is prickling along your skin at finally having his devoted attention on you, the spiteful part of yourself wants him to suffer a little more. it’s mean. petty and unfair, you know. but you hate the fact that you have to share him now. he was yours first. he was the first kid to accept you for who you are, flaws and all. you know him better than those annoying classmates of his, those insufferable girls who look at him with hearts in their eyes, those dumb boys who hog him on the weekends with their stupid sport. but he still gives them more attention than you. getting home from school is less like you two spending time together, and more like he’s busy studying or chatting on his phone with his friends. and you know he doesn't mean to exclude you, because when he does have any excess time, he spends it with you--as rare as that is nowadays. he even invites you out when he hangs outside with his friends. you always go because you just can’t help yourself, but the pit in leaves in your stomach when you sit on the sidelines and watch him have fun with others only gets worse and worse. caleb is yours; your best friend, your gege. but, it doesn’t seem like anyone ever picks up on it, least of all him.

dogboy!caleb who doesn't stop his hand from snatching the book away from your face. you make an angry noise, curling your fingers into fists as you place them in your lap--keeping your eyes locked onto your knuckles to avoid his burning stare. he rests his hands on the table, leaning down to try and catch your eye. but you stubbornly refuse, closing your eyes and turning your head no matter what angle he looks at you, staying silent in the face of his questions and concern. you hate to admit it, but it does warm you inside to see him try so hard to get your attention. but it also makes you feel icky and gross, hearing the barely bitten back whines, the growing desperation as he tries his best to stay calm. you waver, in the face of him trying so hard to figure out what’s wrong, so with one long sigh, you finally open your eyes and look at him. his entire body is tense, ears flattened to his head as he looks at you with furrowed brows and wide, almost hurt eyes. the sight immediately has you softening the frown on your face. you reach out to curl your pinkie around his, softly apologizing for being so mean.

dogboy!caleb who immediately relaxes at your touch, the tense line of his shoulders drooping into a semi-comfortable looking slouch while his ears perk up. his entire hand wraps around yours as he quietly asks you what’s wrong, peering at you with his shiny, dusk-purple irises. you pout, avoiding his gaze as guilt weighs heavy in your belly. he squeezes your hand and asks again, but the shame of your actions begins to catch up with you and you find you don’t have the words to explain yourself. you don’t know the nitty, gritty details of his early childhood, but you know enough to gather that he hasn’t really experienced a “normal” school life. if he gets a little caught up in the excitement of it all, then you shouldn’t be punishing him for it. that’s…that’s just cruel, and your gege is the last person you want to be cruel to. even if it makes you angry that he’s now others’ too, it’s something you’re gonna have to accept. if only to keep from hurting him further.

dogboy!caleb who relents when he sees the frustrated wobble of your lower lip. he knows that face, and he knows that it’s better to give you time to sort out your thoughts rather than push further. so he sighs and lets go of your hand, reaching over to lightly tweak your nose. you whine a little, swatting his hand away while trying your best to look annoyed. but how can you be when caleb is giving you the attention you’re so desperately craving. when he looks so relieved at having you speak to him.

dogboy!caleb who smiles at the sparkle of humor in your eyes, quietly promising to you that he’ll make you whatever you want once they get back home. but, only after you tell him what’s been going on lately. you bite your lip, but slowly nod at his imploring stare. you don’t like being mad at caleb. you hate it, in fact. it feels wrong to associate negative things with him when all he’s ever made you feel is accepted and happy. until now, at least. so you quietly agree, giggling when you can see the tip of his wagging tail peak over the edge of the table. that lovely sound finally puts him at ease, and feeling overwhelmed with relief and excitement, he leans over and nuzzles the tip of his nose into the top of your head. you giggle again, titling forward to brush your cheek against the front of his shoulder you can reach. he promises you that he’ll be done after an hour, which is a lot shorter than he normally stays. he pulls back, gently booping your nose with his finger. he asks if you can be patient with him, and feeling so much better now that he’s giving you the chance to explain, you eagerly agree with a real smile. seeing it makes that frantic energy inside of him calm. he doesn’t know what exactly he did, but it’s clear that it’s him that’s been making you so upset. or at least, what he’s been doing. it has been a long time since it’s just been the two of you outside of school work or meal times, and he feels like an idiot for just noticing it. if what really made you so upset was his busy schedule, then he can tweak it and spend less time out with others. anything to bring you back to him.

dogboy!caleb who jogs over to the study group, waving off their concerns with a practiced smile. he warns them that he’s on a time limit, and laughs off their disappointed but friendly ‘boos’. quickly, though, he gets into study mode and the group begins discussing their recent math quiz and what they did wrong on it. caleb sets a timer on his phone—one grandma had gotten him since you were still a little too young to have one in her opinion—and settles into his seat. he’s really only here to offer support, as he’s had no trouble at all when it comes to his classes. so when one of the girls from his homeroom asks for his input, he doesn’t hesitate to offer his help.

dogboy!caleb who casually leans over to peer at her paper, and you watch as the girl he’s helping flushes at his easy going smile and bright eyes. her own gaze flickers from his ears to his face and back again while he talks her through whatever her problem is, and your good mood vanishes. that familiar uncomfortable burn settles within your chest, and you dig your nails into your dress. you don’t like the way she’s looking at him, you don’t like it at all. it doesn’t help that another girl slowly inches her way over, and after he’s clearly done helping the first, the second seizes her opportunity and she immediately pounces. her voice is loud and whiny enough to carry over to your corner, and your eye twitches when caleb laughs and calms down her dramatic complaints, easily switching over to pay attention to her instead. on and on this goes as the hour ticks down slowly for you. you want to look away, you want to ignore all those girls who are so much prettier than you are. who are thinner and sweet and cute in a way you’ll never be. who get to spend time with caleb when you can’t; who get to steal his attention away when you barely have it despite living together. but it’s like your eyes are glued to the scene, like you’re frozen in place. that itching burn grows hotter and hotter the longer you look, until you suddenly just can’t take it anymore and you have to leave.

dogboy!caleb who, after forty-five minutes, gets some time to breath. he checks the time on his phone, idly planning on what you could possible want for dinner. he’s thinking up a few different options when he turns his head to peek at what you’re doing, only—you aren’t there. your seat is empty, your bag gone and there’s not a trace to be found of you. his heart drops to his stomach as his eyes frantically dart around the library, but you’re nowhere to be found. he’s trying to keep his head cool, but he can feel the panic in his chest grow stronger the longer he realizes that he didn’t even notice you leave. he quickly rises to his feet, ignoring the questions thrown his way as he tosses his bag over his shoulder. he doesn’t have time for this, he needs to find you. nothing else matters but you. nothing.

dogboy!caleb who hones in on your scent immediately. he'd memorized it, early on, and he's gotten plenty of time to adjust to the overwhelming smells staining the halls. it's no trouble at all to follow his nose out the library doors, not even bothering to acknowledge the concerned calls of his study group. his mind is focused on nothing but finding you. everything around him simultaneously goes sharp and blurry, eyes flicking around as your scent trails down the halls and out the front gates of the school. the energy building up beneath his skin sets him on edge, an unfamiliar kind of restlessness sending adrenaline coursing through his veins. how did he not realize you were gone? how could he have been so wrapped up in that stupid study group to not notice you leaving? he’s attuned to everything about you, at least, he thought he was. he clenches his jaw when, instead of going down their usual path, the vanilla-lavender-sea salt scent of yours trails down another. it’s a route you haven’t taken with him before; a route that leads you further into town rather than down the backstreets to their home.

dogboy!caleb who can’t stop his feet from moving faster, the rhythmic thud of his bag bouncing against his spine. the further he jogs, the stronger your scent gets. his heart pounds even faster inside of his chest, eyes focused and dark as he glances around the street he’s turned onto. it’s not like it’s a bad part of the neighborhood to be in, there’s even a park further up the street. but, there are a lot of older kids milling about the sidewalk. teenagers from the neighboring high school, judging by their uniforms, and it makes him nervous to imagine you wandering about by yourself. he sniffs deeply, head instinctively following the line of your scent as it leads towards the playground. he frowns as he approaches the edges of the park, noticing a small groups of high school boys hanging around a nearby bench. their eyes are drawn towards the park, but he’s a little too far from it to see what they’re looking at clearly. he sniffs again, his ears flicking as he instinctively listens in on their conversation.

‘who’s the kid?’

‘i don’t know man, when i walked up kai was just talkin’ to her.’

‘isn’t it kinda weird that an elementary schooler is hanging around at this hour?’

‘maybe he’s tryna figure that out? if he can, he’ll probably walk her home if she’s lost.’

‘yea, that’s true. you gotta admit though, she’s kinda creepy the more you look at her. i mean, cmon, she’s so gloomy, it’s making me sad just lookin’ at her. she looks like she could stare right through my soul, it’s freaky, bro.’

‘don’t be rude, man, she’s just a kid. what’s if she’s got something going on at home?’

‘maybe, i guess. but what kinda normal kid carries around a fuckin’ ghostface bookbag anyway? isn’t that like, a rated r movie?’

dogboy!caleb who pauses halfway through his step. there’s only one elementary school kid he knows who carries that kinda bag around. the blood in his veins turns to ice when he realizes the girl they’re talking about is you. in the presence of some unknown high school boy. his teeth itch inside of his mouth and he rushes forward without hesitation. he doesn’t care who the hell that other boy is, he’s not gonna leave you with him no matter how ‘nice’ he may appear to you.

next episode: (pt. III)

*jazz hands* tada !! part two ! again, had to cut it off here cuz this shit was getting suuuuuper long like jeez i fucking yap too much i swear;;;; good news is, though, i won't leave you hanging for long ! i plan to put something out by tomorrow (and i promise i won't get distracted;;;;) so be on the lookout for part three if you're interested !

edit: if you want to keep up with this story, i have no issues tagging ! but if you do follow me and you don’t have an age in your bio i will block you, i’m sorry but im an 18+ blog despite the fluff and i don’t want minors following me; adding this because i’ve seen an influx of people and i guess they didn’t realize i’ve got rules ;;; so please, have an age in bio or you will be blocked !!

[webbluvrsugar]

was working as a waitress and thought: Rafe Cameron would be a shameless, dirty client.

PART ONE — PART TWO.

You started your shift a couple hours ago, it’s been nice, not too busy, no rude costumers, the evening is quiet, you’re just cleaning around the counter and hey — you’ve even made a few tips, and if that means that you’ll be doing absolutely nothing for the rest of the night while pretending you’re working and get some extra cash, you’ll keep cleaning that counter for the fourth time today.

Everything’s going the way it should, except when a large group of boys barge in the restaurant, you can hear a few mutters, “Nah man, you’re not hearing me this shit’s like the best place in town.” and by mutters, it’s more like a loud deep voice breaking the silence of the place.

You already know that they’re gonna be trouble, but your coworker already escaped to the kitchen and you’re forced to drop the easy task and go and greet them with a smile.

One of them stands tall, you notice his clothing, the expensive watches, the gold chain, the polo with a little ‘R.C’ engraved — these guys are loaded. He checks you out too, bluntly staring at your body through your clothes before his eyes go back to yours.

“Uhh.. table for seven?” He questions, you nod.

“Right this way.” You respond, walking them to the a nice isolated corner with a fresh made table, if he’s going to check you out, you should at least make some big, fat cash from the service.

He’s laughing around with his friends, nudging them one on his shoulder when they talk about how hot the waitress is, loud boyish laughs like they’re teenagers, you’re sure they’re at least twenty.

They sit down, Rafe sits at the edge of the table, closer to you when you drop the menus on the table, the short little skirt flowing and only showing the shorts underneath, Rafe wishes you weren’t wearing any, but it’s not like he can control that.

You come to take their orders, he’s already man spreading on the chair, a toothy grin on his face as he adjusts his polo, then his shorts — on purpose —, you look down almost immediately to the motion, swallowing after a glimpse of his crotch before you look up and finally focus on your job, which at this point, you’re not sure what it is, Rafe chuckles lowly, he waits for his friends to order before he does.

“So, f’me I’d like a coke…” you start to take notes, he interrupts right away. “No, no, wait actually, a cider.” You scratch the notepad and start to take note of that too, he interrupts, again. “Wait, make it a beer, large.”

His friends laugh at his childish behaviour, you sigh, give him a glance before you take note of that.

“And to eat?” You ask, leaning in slightly.

“A blooming onion annnd….uhhh…” he stalls, just for the sake of it, his eyes go up and down at you again before he looks back at the menu, taps on the food he wants before speaking. “A truffled burger.”

He says, you don’t take notes, you only raise a brow at him.

“Are you sure?”

His friends run quiet at the slight defiance you give away, Rafe’s smile slightly fades, but he’s impressed, so he scoffs.

“Yeah babe, ‘m sure.” He adjusts his watch, making sure you can see the expensive diamonds on it, as if asking subtly for some respect.

You finally take note of what he asked for, a genuine smirk on your face playing now, you grab the menus, get ready to leave.

“Thanks sweetheart..” he says as he watches you leave, his friends erupt in laughter, you feel like you’re getting mocked, but why is it so damn hot?

It takes a while for their orders to come, but you make sure Rafe’s last, he notices that, he can see the orders coming and his is just tossed on the back, his jaw clenches, but as soon as he sees you coming in with his order, a soft little smile on your face as you’re pleased with the look on his, it’s almost… cute, so he doesn’t complain, and doesn’t even mention that his burger is a little cold.

You come to clean their table when their finished, taking the multiple drinks and putting it on the balcony, you can definitely feel his eyes hovering over you every now and then, but this time you don’t mind it, especially not when you’re bringing him the bill and lean down to hand him it, boobs almost spilling out your top just for him to see, and he bites into it, scoffing lowly.

“Card or cash?” You ask.

“Card.” He responds, simply, he likes the attitude you put on, it’s nice and refreshing.

You bring him the machine, he pays, you expect nothing of it after they leave, but then when you walk to the table to make sure it’s all clean, you notice a large stack of cash, 300 hundred bucks and a message that says.

‘You got a nice little piece of ass, call me.’

It’s gross.

Disgusting.

But why are you dialling his number after work?

[elluminis]

One Piece Fic Recs

Unsurprisingly, I’ve read a ton of one piece fics in my day! I thought it might be interesting to make a list of some of my favorites, organized by the main ship. Fics with a ❤️ are an all-time favorite—doesn’t mean they’re necessarily any better, but they make my heart happy :)

Gen:

Already Forever by taizi (NR)

A character study on Luffy, told from Nami’s perspective :)

Fishbowl by taizi (NR) ❤️

Hi this fic is absolutely heartbreaking. There’s a fantastic comic adaptation on tumblr that I’ll have to find and link here (edit: found it), but suffice to say—this fic resonates with a lot of people for a very good reason. Just…read it. You won’t regret it.

Hide The Knives by SrirachaBunny (G)

When Red-Haired Shanks stops by the Moby Dick, Ace’s crewmates come to the horrifying conclusion that since he failed to kill Whitebeard, surely he’ll try to take the other emperor’s head next, right? Fortunately (and to their infinite confusion), they prove to be incredibly wrong.

How I Wanted to Follow You by longingparadise (G)

A bittersweet, POV Outsider future fic. Long after the death of the second Pirate King, it’s become customary for crews seeking the One Piece to stop by a small town in the East Blue, where the Pirate King’s own first mate now resides…

The Many Marriages of the Straw Hat Pirates by LadyCrimsonAndBlack (G)

Basically, how many times can the Strawhats get married to one another for tax benefits?

blow my blues away by LadyCrimsonAndBlack (T)

In which the Strawhats manage to get arrested for everything but piracy.

Losing Time (You Can’t Go Home Again) by HyperbolicReverie (T) ❤️

Law is a character that I adore with all of my heart, and this is an absolutely fantastic character study. This fic had me sobbing in the best possible way.

Numismatics by HyperbolicReverie (T)

The best way I could describe this fic is a POV Outsider semi-character study on Law?? HyperbolicReverie does Law character studies like no other I stg 😭

trouble is a friend of mine by taizi (T)

Is my adoration for POV Outsider showing? In which Sanji is captured, and some inmates chat with him :)

whatever you can still betray by midnightluck (T)

Ace doesn’t make a lot of sense, when you think about it. So the only possible conclusion is that he’s a marine spy, right?

Lawlu:

Not a Ball or a Chain by HollowIsTheWorld (T)

In which Law desperately hopes that his soulmate is platonic, but somehow, Luffy manages to prove him wrong. I absolutely adore a lawlu fic where they’re both explicitly ace/aro-spec :)

Practicality is Useless Around Here by Ghosty_bee (T)

Wherein Law is dragged into the world of the supernatural against his will by the unstoppable force that is Luffy.

Something in a Smile by Pneumatic (T)

One of the few things I like more than a soulmate AU is a soulmate AU where they aren’t actually soulmates. Feat. platonic soulmates Luffy and Zoro :)

A Smile in My Veins by betsib (M)

Vampire!Law is just trying to live his life as a doctor when he stumbles upon paranormal investigator!Luffy at a bar. Feat. my favorite found family Strawhat vibes, a good supernatural AU, and a healthy serving of lawlu :)

Heart by lovely_hina (M) ❤️

In which Law spends a little more time nursing Luffy back to health following the events of Marineford, and Luffy offers him the warmth and comfort that he hadn’t known he’d been missing.

Until we drown by chenziee (T-M)

My favorite type of omegaverse, which is nontraditional! Basically, sex-repulsed omega!Law meets sex-neutral alpha!Luffy. You know me and my love of asexual lawlu :)

Acclimating by justira (E) ❤️

My holy grail of ace/aro-spec lawlu. Just…absolutely fantastic.

Curiouser by xairylle (E)

In which Luffy finds Law reading aloud to be extremely hot :)

I could drown myself in someone like you by sweetdd (M-E) ❤️

I am OBSESSED with everything Dee writes and this is one of the many series of fics that they’ve written that I adore. Feat. childhood friends!lawlu :)

Inhuman Potential by sydneyxface (E) ❤️

Feat. pathologist!Law, vampire!Luffy, a fantastic mystery/thriller plot line, and some wonderful smut :)

Many Hands by AsterC (E)

What if a fic started as filthy smut and then chapter two turned into a complex character study, through the lens of BDSM? *smacks hood of car* this fic has everything!

Matters of the Heart by sweetdd (E) ❤️

I think this fic changed my brain chemistry. The sugar baby!Luffy and sugar daddy!Law AU that I never knew I needed, complete with fantastic smut, heart-wrenchingly human characters, and the unbreakable bond of the ASL brothers :)

My heart’s an autoclave by macabrekawaii (G-E) ❤️

This is actually a series of interconnected oneshots, but it explores one of my favorite lawlu dynamics, which is aro/ace-spec identities and their influence on intimacy. There’s also some zosan and Shachi/Penguin, but I think this series belongs under the lawlu category :)

Marcace:

think once, feel twice by charlie_mou (T) ❤️

I absolutely adore this fic. A soulmate AU where soulmates can feel each other’s strong emotions (and maybe more)? This fic has all my favorite things—an author who has a verifiable treasure trove of info (this time, on sailing and navigation), realistic therapy, and some real fucked up mental health (Ace my beloved).

Zolu:

into flame by kurgaya (T)

Feat. phoenix!Zoro and agender!Luffy. I don’t read zolu very frequently since I have a clear bias for zosan but that just means every zolu fic I recommend is very good 😤

Zosan:

To Brighter Futures by Cherry_Sundae (T)

A future fic, after Luffy has become King of the Pirates. Sometimes, it takes a little extra time and a kick in the ass for things to finally fall into place :)

Cradle and All by Hazel_Athena (T)

It’s Hazel_Athena, the patron saint of T-rated zosan fics! This is a series of accidental child acquisition zosan, and it’s absolutely fantastic :)

Divinity in Your Eyes by rkdlkai (T)

I don’t know how to properly describe this fic? It’s like…a Greek myth, plus a soulmate AU. Good stuff :)

Easy Love by 8ball (T)

In which the entire crew is whammied by a love spell, but Zoro’s been in love with Sanji for a lot longer than a day.

Facade by Hazel_Athena (T) ❤️

The fake-dating AU that WCI needed!

First Breath of Air by Hazel_Athena (T) ❤️

An absolutely brutal late escape from Germa AU :)

Interim Arrangements by Hazel_Athena (T) ❤️

After the Strawhats take down Big Mom, Judge is forced to find a new pirate group to ally himself with. And who better than the group strong enough to take down Big Mom herself?

Merman Verse by Hazel_Athena (T) ❤️

A series of fics—in which a merman washes up on the shores of Germa, and Sanji is hopelessly kind.

Retrograde by Hazel_Athena (T)

In which amnesia is a bitch.

To Have and to Hold by Hazel_Athena (T) ❤️

In which Sanji leaves for Whole Cake Island, but there’s one problem—he’s already married.

Your Place in the Sky by Harubo (T)

In which Zoro is always lost, but Sanji can always find him.

Burning Man by neoglaceon (M) ❤️

This is the fic that opened my eyes to the wonder that is trans!Zoro. Just…an absolutely gorgeous fic.

Deep by CharlieNozaki (M) ❤️

Yet another fic that altered my brain chemistry! This is one of the fics that made me absolutely obsessed with mermaid AUs :)

Fate’s Requiem by three_days_late (G-M) ❤️

This is actually two fics, but they’re both fantastic. Yet another instance of soulmates that aren’t quite what they seem :)

A heavy heart to carry by inkinmyheart (E)

Another supernatural AU, feat. vampire!Sanji and bounty hunter!Zoro. I don’t want to say any more because my favorite part of this fic is a blatant spoiler, but it’s worth the read!

Akkorokamui by Harubo (E)

What can I say, I love a mermaid AU with a side of porn and a sprinkling of cosmic horror!

Ambiguous Ambrosia by auspizien (E) ❤️

Another supernatural AU? In my fic recs? Feat. vampire!Sanji, werewolf!Zoro, and my favorite brand of Strawhat found family :)

caught by onceuponamoon (E)

Well if it isn’t my favorite type of Sanji, which is Sanji with some gender! Plus, an added bonus of trans!Zoro! If my favorite brand of lawlu is ace/aro-spec fuckery, then my favorite brand of zosan is gender fuckery :)

Fingers Only by SweetyGreeny (E)

This is just porn lol. In which one thing leads to another, but Sanji is stubborn and Zoro likes to tempt him.

Horrors Not Yet Known by Trixree (E) ❤️

In which Zoro has a nipple piercing, and Sanji cannot handle it. Featuring some of my favorite dynamics—chaotic Strawhat crew, Sanji with Gender, and dumb shit that gets really emotional.

In Your Dreams by VioletHyena (E) ❤️

What can I say, I love an incubus cambion AU! In which Zoro is a sex demon and Sanji is his best source of food :)

Koe by Nadare (E) ❤️

In which learning to cut steel leaves Zoro with an unintended side effect—he can hear the voices of everything, and it’s slowly driving him crazy. Luckily, getting close to a certain cook helps to quiet the voices…

Language of Loss, Language of Love by 8ball (E)

I find fics that explore a world where the Blues all speak different languages absolutely fascinating—all the more when you factor in everything that Sanji is :)

Language of love by averybidisaster (E)

In which Sanji speaks French, and Zoro decides the only reasonable way to learn if Sanji is into men is to secretly learn French, too.

Midnight Sun by brunetta6 and Springtime4Persephone (E) ❤️

I could not tell you why exactly I’m so obsessed with this fic, but I’m full on hyperfixated. This is a very loose Twilight AU—in the sense that it takes place in Forks, Washington and has vampires and werewolves. I love a good supernatural AU and this fic is basically tailor made for me!

Predisposed Defiance by auspizien (E)

The obligatory Omegaverse fic. What can I say, I love a soulmate AU!

Quench by auspizien (E) ❤️

Hiii I’m absolutely feral for this fic. Feat. tree-fucker Sanji and my absolute favorite vibe for a work of fiction to have, which is mystical and fantastical with a bonus of Fucked Up.

Tell Me What to Do by rkdlkai (E) ❤️

This one is just…pure filth. But pure filth that’s right up my alley! In which Zoro accidentally eats a devil fruit that forces people to obey his every command, and Sanji takes that in the direction that any logical person would.

The Wreckage of Greed by Balderdashfromafool (E)

This fic is just one step away from my favorite vibe any piece of fiction can have—which, that specific combo of fantasy and mysticism is really hard to hit, so I’ll damn as well take what this fic can give me. In which Sanji is traded away in an arranged marriage to the demon king Zoro, but finds him to be far kinder than originally anticipated…

[livmightlive]

Lu Boys Death Lineup

I was feeling a little edgy, a little angsty (perchance). I wanna say, this is based a little bit on canon and a lot a bit on vibes. Maybe this can be my (low effort 😔) febuwhump. Anyways, in order from first to last here it is.

Four - Four is in his mid-twenties when he gets called to help investigate with the resurgence of dark magic in the palace of the four swords. He goes in not expecting much, he’s used to being called to help aid in small things, like monster uprisings or in this case something to do with dark magic. He doesn’t expect things to go so wrong. It’s dark magic alright, but so much of it that it’ll overcome the land immediately if something isn’t done. Ganon is trying to return and Four is the only person in the way. So, he gives everything to seal it away. This effort fractures Four again, but not in the way it did before. This time the colors don’t reunite with each other but instead Four’s physical body is vaporized and his soul tears in to four pieces, each absorbing all the leftover darkness that Four couldn’t stop. Dot has no choice but to seal the palace completely.

Hyrule - When the chain’s journey ends, Hyrule doesn’t return home to a peaceful era. His journey continues and despite his and both princesses’ efforts things start to get worse. The cult has grown in an huge way and Hyrule soon knows no peace, constantly traveling to avoid them. They’re grasping at straws and with each year that passes since Ganon’s death they get more agitated. By his late twenties he’s more than exhausted. Hyrule no longer knows rest. He can’t return to the castle or any town, not even, especially not even, the ones that had been kind to him. The cult would find him. They burn would burn down buildings, cut down people, and even trample crops just to get to him. Unrelated to Hyrule, they destroy new growth forests and scar any attempts by the earth to heal. This has to stop. He goes to the cult and finds Ganon’s ashes himself. He makes sure that there isn’t anything left this time. The fire he creates, his last spell, burns for years.

Twilight - Twilight’s body is never found. Everyone who had known him had been greatly concerned for him for a few years now. It seems that he had been slowly going mad ever since he had turned 30. He had grown more and more restless, walking circles in his house until the carpet wore down. He withdraws for weeks, emerging with untrimmed hair and wild eyes. He holds a great sorrow at all times that cannot be quelled. He starts disappearing into the woods for weeks at a time. One day it all stops and it seems that he’s calmed down. His mind has returned to him. He begins tending to the ranch again, he smiles more, laughs more. But… There's an everlasting air about him that just feels like he’s waiting for something. A great storm descends on Ordon one day. It brings some destruction with it. Floods wash away buildings built too close to rivers and trees fall from loose soil. In its wake, it’s as if the world was shining silver. Twilight is nowhere to be found.

Wild - Wild is almost 40 when he leaves his and Flora’s shared home to go on a little expedition. He doesn’t know what he’s looking for this time but he craves fresh air and adventure. He’s on a well worn path, just leaving from a stable when he drops as if he were a puppet with all of its strings cut loose. And that’s it for him. Of course other travelers and stable hands try to check up on him, but he’s gone. There’s not a lick of life left in him. Purah runs a series of autopsies and can’t find anything wrong. He was in perfect health when he left and the people interviewed at the stables claim he was acting normal, or as normal as Wild can act. Purah decides that he must’ve thrown a blood clot or something, he probably had a left over brain injury from Hylia knows what, but both she and Flora know that’s a lie. They wonder if the shrine of resurrection only had so much to give Wild. They wonder if they have timers too.

Time - Time is almost 50 when he returns to battle. There’s a returning darkness that must be quelled. He prays that this won’t turn into another failure of his, that the mistakes he makes now won’t hurt his successors anymore than he’s already hurt them. His ocarina stays home; it’s buried deep under a floorboard beneath his and Malon’s bed. He takes some peace of mind from that. His fight takes him back to the lost woods where he never returns from. It’s decades later and Malon is old. Her hair has long been grey and she has grandchildren to keep her company. How she wishes Time could’ve met them… She’s called to the castle one day and asked if she recognizes skeletal remains of a Hylian body that was found downstream from the lost woods. She does. She prays that with a proper funeral her love might find rest, but she knows that he won’t.

Warriors - When Wars returns to his era, his work doesn’t end. He finds himself training the next generation of warriors and then the one after that. Wars never stops working as there is always work. There is always something he can do to make his home safer, to keep his people happier, to make them stronger. He’s still working by the time he’s halfway through his 70s. His friends and family beg him to retire, even Zelda has passed the throne down to her heir, but there’s still more to be done. He takes lunch one day in castle town and goes to his favorite pub. Despite the castle nurses banning him from eating overly rich food and beer until he has a less stressful lifestyle (it’s way too hard on his heart), Wars still likes to sneak a treat every now and then. What’s it gonna do? Kill him? He never finishes his last pint. 

Wind - Wind dies by complete accident. It happens when he’s in his 80s. He’s chatting with his mates while cleaning one of his old swords. He hasn’t had to use one in decades but he likes to keep them in good shape just in case he has to. Somebody tells a HILARIOUS joke. Wind doubles over in laughter, but as he does so he impales himself straight through. As he’s rushed to the newly opened hospital, Wind can’t help but continue to laugh. Oh boy is this stupid. He tells the nurses not to tell Tetra. She’d never let him hear the end of this. One of them starts weeping. Through tears she tells Wind that he won’t survive this. When they remove the sword he will bleed out unless he drowns in his own blood first. He cringes and tells them to DEFINITELY not tell Tetra. He’s a little annoyed when she and their closest friends and family come rushing in. She berates him. In between curses he can tell that she’s crying. He spends his last hours cracking jokes and sharing stories and gossip with those closest to him. When he starts struggling to stay conscious, they all bid goodbye and Tetra pulls out the sword. A year later, to her embarrassment, Tetra dies the exact same way.

Sky - Sky passes away peacefully in his sleep a week after his 100th birthday party and he KNEW it was coming. Sky knew for months. It started as small comments like at breakfast where he’d be like “Hylia willing I will see the solstice celebrations next week…” and his grandkids, and great grandkids, would be like “Grandpappy don’t say such things!” And he’d relent but it escalates to him asking his family members and friends which of his possessions they liked most. If they fall into his trap and answer, Sky tells them to write their name on it so they can have it after he passes. Nobody does this to his disgruntlement. Eventually they stop believing him because it gets to the point where every other dinner Sky mentions that his time to join Hylia draws near. Just in case they make his birthday a grand event. Somehow everyone, but Sun, is still a little surprised when he goes. She’s like *shrug* “he did mention it”. Like lovebirds, Sun follows him shortly after.

Legend - Nobody in the royal family knows how Legend is still alive. Some say it’s his great spirit, others claim that it must be courage, and those that know him best claim that it's sheer spite. If they were to actually ask Legend himself he’d spit. “The bitch goddess won’t let me.” He makes his opinion of his long lasting life obvious. No longer is Legend asked to attend prayer services or holidays in celebrations of Hylia. Not after the last dozen… incidents. Legend stopped counting how old he was after the passing of his dear sister and dear rabbit. The nurses who do frequent checkups on him mention that he is 121 years old. He rolls his eyes. Legend wants to go and he brings this up frequently, usually over dinner. He has great great great grand nieces and nephews now. He cares little to meet the next coming generation. Still, despite his fits of anger and general grumpiness, he is well loved. He lives in the castle now, not trusted to take care of himself. The kids love him best. “Grunkie Link tells the best stories <3.” He always makes sure to press treats or old rings into their hands when they pass. It’s a stormy night when the castle is thrown into pandemonium. Legend has gone missing from his chambers. Honestly, how hard could it be to find a wheelchair bound 121 year old man? They find him outside, screaming at the heavens. “Take me you HAG!” Screaming turns to pleading. “I want to see them again.” Before anybody can get close, lightning strikes from the sky and smites the hero. Nothing is left behind but ashes.

pls lmk what you think! Feel free to argue if you have a different idea <3

[littlelamy]

hii id like to request reader is know as the “purse lady” around town because she always has such nice purses but it drives rafe crazy because the purses are taking over the closet

hope you like it! ⭐️ everywhere you go, people comment on your purses. the vintage leather satchel you picked up at a farmers' market, the sleek designer tote you waited months to snag, each one is a piece of your identity around town. you’re “the purse lady,” and you wear the title proudly.

everyone in town loves it. everyone, it seems, except for rafe, who’s starting to regard your closet with a look somewhere between dread and defeat.

it didn’t bother him at first. one purse turned to five, five became ten, and soon they seemed to multiply overnight. he’d open a drawer expecting socks and pull out a sequin clutch. shelves once reserved for his shirts were now home to crossbodies and totes in every color he couldn’t name. it got to the point that he wasn’t entirely sure where his things were anymore.

“uh, hey, baby,” he says one night, in that careful tone he uses when he’s pretty sure he’s losing the battle, “do you think maybe…we could, y’know, thin the purse collection just a little?”

you glance up, already deciding you’ll ignore this conversation. “why would i do that?” you say, your voice light but not remotely budging. “they all have a purpose. you know that.”

he stifles a sigh. there it is—that classic, endearing excuse. you say it like every single purse is a tool for survival, an essential part of daily life. and he gets it, kind of. most of them hold stories he can see you’re not ready to let go of—trips you’ve taken, places you love, even a few gifts from people he’s never met. but now his once half-empty closet is practically spilling.

“i’m just saying,” he tries again, with a softer look, “that closet space is getting a little… tight.”

you laugh, patting his cheek with that sweet, dismissive touch. “you have plenty of room, rafe. you wear, what, the same five shirts? trust me, we’re fine.”

the way you brush him off makes him laugh even as he sighs, but he knows the struggle won’t end. one night, he catches himself staring at each one—a metallic hobo bag, a leather satchel, a chain-link crossbody. he’d even memorized the rotation by now, making sure every one of them makes it back to its designated spot when you switch things up.

and then, as he studies a purple suede clutch that’s recently claimed space near his shoes, something shifts. he realizes, maybe for the first time, that these bags aren’t just things—they’re a part of you, as real as your laugh, as familiar as your favorite coffee cup. they’re tokens of a life he’s glad to be part of, each one a marker of a memory he’s happy to share.

he decides that night to stop counting, to stop wishing for more space. he’ll let them take over, and the next time he stumbles on one of your totes, he’ll remind himself it’s a small price to pay to be in the orbit of your beautiful, chaotic world.

besides, he thinks, there are worse things than being the boyfriend of some obsessed with purses

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01

[twistedpink]

My favourite thing about writing is probably just putting my little guys into situations- And what’s hotter than being in an apocalypse??

Survivor!Trey that lets you into his little slice of life, his home, his bed, because he’s terrified. Of the not-quite-people outside the door, or the loneliness you’re not sure, But the way he clutches and whimpers into the thick leather of your jacket says enough- He never could’ve survived this long without you, probably would have dried up in a corner of your little cabin with the cobwebs and dustbunnies. But he’ll never have to worry about that, because you’re capable. And too in love with his care packages to leave ;) So good for him, always getting supplies and reinforcing barriers when he’s too busy with household chores.. He couldn’t ask for a better partner, and one day you’ll see the world as something to be explored again, together <3

Survivor!Ruggie that drives you around the abandoned town you hide away in- For a price. When he gets low on gas and your pantry’s empty, you walk the streets hand in hand to scavenge. Sometimes, when you have the luxury of sitting down for a meal, his thumb traces shapes into your filthy palm.. You say you love him, when you have the time. You make the realization that if the world was clean, whole, that you never would’ve said something like that to a man like him. Both of you are at your worst, and you’re not sure it’ll ever get better.. He says he loves you, when you’re not just a client, but he’s loved you since before the world ended. Always pining. Being here with you’s a dream come true, even if you’re with him by necessity <3

Zombie!Jack that you have on a metal chain and lead around on the hiking trails you used to walk- Hoping for him to remember something, anything, but he only snaps at squirrels and flinches at your touch. A shell of your Highschool sweetheart, he wouldn’t dream of turning you (which he’d express, if he still had a tongue), you can tell he’s starving by that guilty look he’s wearing. You need him to eat. There’s no point in living if you can’t cure him, get him back, but he’s stubborn even in death.. Once you get desperate enough, you’ll just kiss him- The saliva’ll be enough to start the process, then you’ll be together. Forever. <3

Survivor!Kalim that keens into the plump, soft skin of your thighs from the comfort of your million-dollar shelter. He’s trying his very best to keep you comfortable, even if the world’s a “little” crazy at the moment, he’s sure you won’t have any problems with your QOL :) Especially since that’s your only explanation. You spend most of your days in bed on account of your husband being the only conversation available- Even if he’s a professional talker, it makes you miss the stoic kindness of his bodyguard, Jamil, or the Sly optimism of your accountant, Azul. Your staff were always so nice.. You wonder where they keep disappearing to. You’ll be seeing them soon, but not if your loving husband has anything to say about it <3

Survivor!Rook that’s a hunter by heart- Teaching you to survey and gather, to survive. You’re forced into an urban area by the very prey you track, always seemingly at a disadvantage. He wants nothing more than to retire to the woods, letting you shack up in a cabin he gets to build, protecting his greatest bounty. But you’re too weak for the forest now. It’s beautiful of you, however, he can’t very well enjoy his hunt if you fall to the local hoard. So, he dresses you up in furs and kisses you bloody. For the sake of the hunt. He’s making you a killer, a monster, and you can’t bring yourself to care when it feels so good <3

Zombie (?)!Idia that’s crazy. Irreversibly, monstrously insane. But he loves you- Just enough to keep you alive with his potions and shots. After you were infected, your senses only heightened. He keeps you tied down, much to his chagrin. It feels like a hospital, it reeks of him, his blood. He’s immune, a rarity in the hellhole you’re “living” through, but he wastes that gift on giving you a lifeline.. Wastes his time reteaching you to speak, wastes his pretty lips with suckling onto yours- You can’t reciprocate anymore, but you can feel. The passion. The desperation. And most of all, the hunger.. If you could only ask, he’d lay himself down and let you feast. He wants you to be happy. You’ve always been a good student, especially with a little motivation <3

@bju3c0re @kyokills

[sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth]

We're so bad together (I think I was made for you) (Dean Winchester x female reader)

After a hard day at work you are out in a bar, having a drink, when a handsome stranger by the name of Dean Winchester walks in. You both have a little secret though.

Read it on AO3

Rated E. 5.2k words. Role-playing. Dean cockblocking random dudes at bars. Dean being a massive flirt. Everyone's having a good time (except random bar guy).

Traveling for work has its perks – you get to see the country, make your own schedule and the anonymity of it can be nice.

The downside? Killing time in shitty motels and boring bars.

Sometimes you yearn for the comfort of a place you could come home to every night, a little nest, although you despise the word, all for yourself. Maybe one day.

Because another upside to life on the road? Handsome strangers.

Your day has been long and tiring and you just want a drink. The bar isn’t a dive bar, but a slightly hip place, with white wood and low, thrumming music in the background. The drinks carry ironic names and they only have craft beer. It’s not so bad, plus you get some olives at the bar instead of pretzels and peanuts, which is a nice change of pace.

You sit down at one of the stools at the bar and order a vodka soda. While you wait for your drink, you look around. Most small towns don’t have these sorts of places, but where you are now is just close enough to a bigger city that there’s probably enough young professionals to get good business.

You stretch your neck a little, making the thin chain necklace around your neck move, feeling some tension there. The barkeep brings you your drink, and you smile and thank him, take a sip and sigh.

A group of five walk up next to you at the bar. They’re all in office clothes, their suit jackets taken off, the women putting their hair into pony tails, trying to get comfortable, and you thank the heavens that you don’t have a dress code for your job. They’re chatting and joking, seem to know each other well.

You pick this up without paying very much attention to them. The work you do requires you to be aware of your surroundings all the time, and it’s a hard habit to drop. You sip your drink. There’s a TV over the bar, and the news are on, so you watch that for a while.

“You want another drink?”

You expect it to be the barkeep, but your drink is still half full so it’s a weird thing to ask. But when you turn, you see it’s not the barkeep, but one of the guys from the group that’s next to you at the bar. You look down at your glass.

“Thanks,” you say, a polite smile on your lips, “I’m good right now.”

“Oh,” he says, making a bit of a face. “I was actually just using that as a way to start talking to you.”

You look at him. He’s cute. Curly hair, a nice face. Not too bad looking in his pressed suit.

You smile again. “That’s sweet, but like I said, I still have a drink.”

He sits down on the chair next to you and you raise your eyebrows. You thought you were being pretty clear.

He lowers his voice, like he’s telling you a secret. “Look,” he says, moving his head to indicate the group he’s with. “Those are my friends and they’re real good people, but the thing is, I’ve been single for a while now and they get very excited about the idea of me finding someone.”

“O-kay,” you say, not sure what all of this has to do with you.

“And,” yuppie boy continues, “I may have made the mistake of pointing out that I think you’re extremely pretty and they told me not to came back to them without your number.”

It’s not bad as far as contrived ways to chat someone up go. It puts you and him on the same team, and really, you’re just helping him out, right? Poor guy, ostracized by his friends. You swallow your disdain for the situation.

“Wow,” you say, “Sounds like you’re in a tough spot.” He grins, a little too proud of himself and extends his hand. “I’m Colin.”

You don’t take his hand. “Colin,” you say, and now you’re the one leaning in, “I think you’re full of shit.”

He blanks at that for a second, and then laughs uproariously. “Damn,” he says when he’s stopped laughing, “you’re a wild one, aren’t you?” You resist the urge to roll your eyes.

“Can I give you some feedback?” you ask. “Sure,” Colin says, still thinking that this is going well.

“You don’t have to make up a story about your friends and how you’ve been single for a long time,” you say to him. “If you see someone you think is hot at a bar, you can just say that.” Colin keeps grinning.

“You might say you didn’t like the story, but who’s sitting here with me, chatting?” he asks.

Tapping your fingers on the bar, you don’t point out that he simply sat down and you had no intention to talk to him.

“Well, like I said,” you continue, and start turning away from him, “I have a drink.”

“Come ooon,” he says, and his tone is a little petulant, “we were having fun.”

You’re about to turn back and tell Colin to get his ass away from you when the front door to your right opens. Your habit to know what’s going on around you makes you look and then you can’t stop looking.

He’s the best-looking man you’ve ever seen. His face is the perfect mix of stunningly handsome and heart-wrenchingly pretty. He has hair you just want to run your hands through, grip and see what noises he makes. He’s tall and broad-shouldered and he walks with a swagger that seems to make the air bend around him.

He’s breath-taking, in every sense of the word.

He walks in and looks around like he owns the place. His clothes make him stick out like a sore thumb in this place of business casual, but somehow, if that’s even possible, that makes him more attractive. He’s a full and perfect picture.

And, while he scans the place, his eyes land on you.

You distantly hear Colin with the shitty friends say something but you don’t listen to it. Because you are making eye contact with this man and then he is walking towards you. He does it without taking his eyes off you and you feel a shiver run down your spine. There’s something intense about him.

“Sorry, did you hear what I said?” You whip your head around and Colin is basically inside your ear. Jesus, personal space much?

“What?” you say.

“I was saying,” Colin repeats, “that they have this really cool mixer here on Wednesdays and if you’ve ever been to that, because my buddy Frank, he—”

“This seat taken?”

Both you and Colin fall silent as you turn the other way again. It’s the guy and his voice is deep and raspy and you feel it all the way down to your crotch.

“No,” you say, looking at him. His eyes are strikingly green, the greenest you’ve ever seen. There’s some stubble on his face and you wonder what it would feel like under your fingertips, against your skin.

“Uh, sorry man,” Colin says. Oh Colin. “We were actually just talking?”

Handsome guy doesn’t sit, instead he leans sideways against the bar, which brings him much closer to you.

“Lady doesn’t seem very interested,” he says, not letting his eyes leave you. A small grin forms on your lips

“Not a lady,” you say. A devilish smile plays on his face. “No?” You shake your head a little.

“Do you guys, like, know each other?” Colin asks behind you, and you can’t blame him, because the easiness with which you two talk is a little intense.

“Name’s Dean,” he says, extending his hand to you. You hesitate for a second, then shake it, say your name.

“Pretty,” Dean says, while his eyes drop down to your lips. Holy hell.

Suddenly you see an arm extend past you, and Colin starts: “My name is –" Dean looks away from your face for the first time, past you.

“I didn’t ask,” he interrupts. You almost feel bad for Colin, but then Dean looks back at your face and you forget there is anyone else in the bar.

“So,” he says. “You from around here?”

“No,” you say, “just here on business.” Dean nods. “Same with me. You stayin’ in town for long?”

“I wasn’t planning on,” you reply. “Unless something interesting comes up.”

Dean’s smile broadens at what might have been an accidental double entendre from you.

“Interesting, huh?” he asks, and his gaze drops down to your hands briefly, maybe checking for a ring? He won’t find it there.

Colin clears his throat, and asks: “So you don’t want that drink?”

You look away from Dean, which isn’t easy, and turn to him.

“Colin,” you say, “give it up, buddy.” He looks a little taken aback and you think he’s about to say something, but then he tucks tail and leaves. Good for him on knowing when he’s beat. And you and Dean have your peace at last.

As you turn back, Dean’s looking over your shoulder after Colin.

“Can’t blame a guy for trying,” he says and you incline your head.

“True,” you say, “but you can blame him for not taking no for an answer.”

Dean nods, then turns to you again. “So, you not interested in any company or just his?” You lean forward a little. “Depends on what you’ve got to offer, Dean.”

He grins again, that boyish grin that makes him look like he should be on posters on the walls of male-attracted teens throughout the country.

“I have a room not far from here,” he says. “Maybe we could go there, see if we can’t make something, how did you say, interesting come up?”

What he’s saying is cheesy as hell and would probably do better in an 80’s porno, but somehow he makes it work. It’s like he knows how ridiculous it is, but he’s leaning into it so hard that it comes around to being sexy again.

You look him up and down again. He’s handsome as sin and although it’s been a long day and you were planning on having another drink and some dinner, you think you should just roll with it.

“Well, then, Dean,” you say, and bite your lip, making him look at your mouth. “Lead the way.”

You pay for your drink and Dean walks you out to his car, which is almost as sexy as he is. He opens the passenger door for you and just as you’re about to get in he grabs your arm and pulls you towards him.

His lips meet yours and then you have your arms wrapped around his neck and he’s pushing your back against the side of the car. He’s a good kisser and what he’s doing with his hands isn’t half bad either. They wander down to your ass and he squeezes it, pushing himself against you in the process.

“Shit,” he says, when you part to catch your breath, “I wish I could just do you right here.”

“Oh yeah?” you say, and use the opportunity to drag your tongue across his jaw, making him shudder. “Just bend me over the car and have your way with me?”

Dean raises his eyebrows. “Wow, that’s, uhm,” he says, then seems to think for a second. “But yeah, something like that.”

You chuckle. You actually flustered him.

Dean’s hand goes back to the door. “Shall we?”

While he’s driving you watch him. You particularly like the little bump in his otherwise perfectly straight nose. A small imperfection that makes the whole picture even better.

“Enjoying the view?” Dean asks, and turns his head to you. You’re leaning back against the door, one leg angled up on the seat and his eyes go to your face but then run over you, before coming back to your face.

“Eyes on the road, cowboy,” you say, and he grins and turns back. That grin is seriously getting to you and you don’t know if you can contain yourself if you see it again.

Turns out it’s not what you should be worried about since his right hand snakes along the bench seat and finds its way to your thigh. His hands are as perfect as the rest of him, a little rough looking. You bite your lip. He must work really good with his hands. His touch on you is gentle though, and his fingers travel up and down your thigh, going a little higher each time.

“Anything in particular you’re looking for?” you ask, and then he does the grin again, goddamn it.

“Just getting the lay of the land,” he says, then adds: “We’re almost there, couple of minutes.”

“Then we should make the most of it,” you answer, and lean forward.

You sit up, close to Dean, and run one hand over his chest, then move your head to gently nibble at his ear. He sighs.

“You do this kinda thing a lot?” he asks, trying to act cool as you run one hand up his leg, coming close to his crotch. “Going home with strange men you meet in bars?”

You reply while your lips move down to his neck: “Only when they’re as handsome as you, which, I don’t think that’s ever happened, so no.” His chuckle vibrates against you.

“Good thing I am very susceptible to flattery,” he says. “So no husband or boyfriend who’ll coming looking to beat my face in tomorrow? You’re single?”

Instead of answering you nip at his neck, making him flinch. He’s about to say something else when your hand moves over his crotch and finds his cock. You bring your other hand there, slowly undoing his fly and it actually shuts him up for a second as you run your hand into his pants, squeezing him playfully.

“If I wasn’t single,” you say, and slowly begin stroking him, “would you want me to stop?”

He sounds like he tries to slow his breathing, as his eyes go back and forth between the dark road and your hand down his pants.

“I don’t, agh,” he says and is interrupted by a small moan leaving him as you keep touching him, “I don’t think I have that kind of willpower.” You grin, watching his face, his eyebrows knotting, his tongue going over his lips.

“I guess there’s no point in asking then, is there?” you say, picking up your speed.

“Yeah,” he says, and takes a sharp breath through his teeth. “Just hard to imagine someone this hot being s—”

He doesn’t finish the sentence because just then you lower your head, take his dick out of his pants and wrap your lips around it.

“Fuck,” he says instead, arm going to your back. His breathing is picking up and he is slowly rocking himself up, meeting you. You drag your tongue along him, your hand jerking off the part of him that’s not in your mouth.

“Jesus Christ, you’re good at this,” he grunts and his hand goes to your hair. The rocking is getting more intense and you start to feel him twitch in your mouth.

So you stop, pull your head up and sit back, your own breathing heavy.

“Why would you stop?” Dean complains immediately. His second hand goes back to the wheel, and he’s white-knuckling it.

You wipe your mouth, get some hair out of your face. “Please,” you say, tone unbelieving, “you think I’m gonna blow you and then I’ll just wait an hour to get mine?” He actually looks offended.

“An hour?” he says, voice sounding hurt. “I am a virile man.” You laugh.

“You’re also not twenty anymore,” you reply. Dean actually chuckles, despite his hurt feeling. “How do you know I’m not twenty?”

You scoff. “Lucky guess?” To his credit, he does chuckle at that.

“Besides,” he says, and his hand is back on your thigh, “there’s plenty of ways I can make you scream my name without my dick getting involved, believe me.” You do believe him.

It doesn’t matter though, because just then you pull into the parking lot of the motel. Dean pulls the car into a spot and turns to you.

“Ready to have your mind blown?” he asks. You feel a grin forming on your face. “Can’t wait.”

He’s on you before the door to the room has even fallen closed. He pulls you against him and kisses you deeply, his tongue pressing its way into your mouth quickly. His hands are exploring your body and then they go to your jeans.

“Do you still need these?” he asks, lips moving against your mouth. “Or can I tear them off you?” You laugh, one of your hands going to the back of his neck, petting him there.

“Can you tear them off without ripping them?” you ask. Dean clicks his tongue.

“I’ll try,” he says, “but with how badly I want you I can’t promise anything.”

He maneuvers you to the bed, unbuttoning your pants in the meantime. You drop down, lift your legs so he can take them off you fully, without ripping them.

He drops down and his mouth goes for your hip, sucking the skin there and your head falls back while a moan escapes you. His lips are soft and full, and then they’re moving on.

He must be telling the truth when he says he wants you badly because he doesn’t even take off your panties, just shoves them to the side and starts kissing you there. Your hand lands on the back of his head, stroking it, and with your other arm you’re leaning up on your elbow, so that you can watch him.

His tongue darts out and starts exploring your clit and you twitch against him, then he licks along your entrance and holy shit you want him badly too.

“Fuck,” he groans, “you’re delicious.” You moan his name and he goes back to your clit, flattens his tongue and starts pressing it against you in a steady rhythm.

“Mmh,” you sigh, “you done this before?” He grins, briefly taking his mouth off of you.

“Can’t talk, darlin’,” he answers, “busy making you come.”

You laugh but then the laugh turns into a moan, because not only is his mouth back on you but he’s also pushing two fingers into you. You arch your back when he quickly finds your g-spot and starts rubbing it.

“Jesus, fuck,” you pant, and lean your head back, pleasure too intense to keep it up. “That feels so amazing.”

Spurred on, Dean starts going faster and soon you have high-pitched moans leaving you. Your head snaps back up when you feel an orgasm approaching and your grip in Dean’s hair tightens.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop,” you barely manage to get out and then you’re coming, and you do scream his name, just like he said you would.

You’re panting and tensing and shaking and Dean’s mouth is off you because he is watching you, but his fingers rub you through the high, prolonging it.

Finally you collapse on the bed, chest heaving. You blink your eyes open and look down yourself at him. It’s fair to say that he looks very proud of himself. Deservedly so.

“Told you I was gonna blow your mind,” he says and you chuckle but it comes out broken. With a strength that is impressive to you you sit up again and pull him close by the shoulders. You wipe some of your wetness off his lips and then kiss him deeply.

“Clothes. Off. Now,” you mutter against him, because yes, part of your brain has definitely been blown out of your skull.

Dean complies, pulls his shirt off his shoulders and then his t-shirt, while you start unbuttoning your own top. Dean’s standing up and just kicking off his jeans when his eyes go down as your shirt falls open, probably to get an eyeful of your tits.

Which he does get, seeing as you opted to go braless today, but his eyes catch on something different: the long gold chain you have around your neck with the thin gold wedding band that’s currently lying between your breasts.

“So,” he says. He sits down next to you, body turned towards you and lets his fingers trail over your ribs and then he kisses you.

“What would your husband think if he knew you were here,” another kiss, this one on your jaw. “And he could watch you and hear you,” he says, lowering his head to reach your nipple and suck it harshly into his mouth, making you hiss. “Scream another man’s name while you come all over his face and mouth?” he continues after letting go. Then he moves to your other nipple, licks it and finally looks up at you. “Hmm? What would he think? You think he’d be into that?”

Your hand wanders down to where he is still covered by his underwear, finding his hardness and squeezing. Dean exhales sharply and you grin.

“I think he would love it,” you say and Dean grins and kisses you, more gentle this time.

“Sounds like a real pervert,” he mutters and you laugh.

Then you’re pulling on the waistband of his underwear and he raises his hips to let you pull it off him, let it fall to his feet. You start stroking him again, and he keeps kissing you, holding your face in his hands and running his fingers through your hair.

“Dean,” you sigh, and it snaps him back into action. He pulls you closer to him, and you too raise your ass so he can pull off your underwear. He pulls you against him then and sits you on his lap, with your back turned to him. You shiver when you feel his erection against your ass.

Dean kisses your shoulder and then you’re lifting yourself up. He pushes his tip against you, stroking you with it for a few seconds and then you’re slowly sinking down on him. He groans at the feeling. Both his hands are on your hips and you hold on to one of them while you lower yourself, until you are soon flush with him.

You remain still for a little bit and Dean resumes kissing your shoulder. You reach one hand behind you, running your fingers along his jaw. One of his hands runs along your front, between your breasts and over them, along your stomach and then down to your clit.

“Come on, baby,” he says. “Show me what you’ve been missing out on.”

He starts petting you, which makes you clench, which in turn makes Dean twitch inside of you, a perfect chain reaction that gets you to start riding him. Slowly at first but not for long. He feels too good, and you want to feel him too much. If you compare him to other lays you’ve found in small town bars he’s already coming out on top, so there’s no need for a lot of preamble.

He’s kneading your breast with the hand that’s not between your legs. He definitely seems to be liking the idea that you have a husband at home and you’re out here scratching your itch with a perfect stranger, because he says: “How long since you’ve been fucked like this, huh?”

It’s not something you’ve really ever been into, but you give it a shot.

“Too long,” you moan, further picking up the pace with which you ride him. “I was so desperate in that bar before you came in.” And then, squeezing him inside of you, which makes his forehead drop to your shoulder, and you can just imagine his face even though you can’t see it, eyes squeezed shut, jaw set, you say: “I saw you and I knew you could get the job done.”

It’s a little porn-y, but you skip the feeling awkward when Dean holds you close and moves you both. He slips out of you and then he’s laying you down on the bed. He gets over you and kisses you, and you grab the back of his head and pull him in.

“Wanna fuck you,” he pants as he grabs his cock and lines himself up. You arch your back up, the chain around your neck dropping over your shoulder.

“One ticket to Pound Town, please,” you say and Dean grins.

“My kind of woman,” he says, and then he’s pushing into you, filling you up. He starts driving into you, long deep strokes that set your core on fire.

“My husband definitely can’t do that,” you say while you run your hands over Dean’s chest. He grins.

“Good thing you found me,” he says, and as if to prove the point his hand wanders down between your bodies, finding your clit. As he starts rubbing you, your head drops back and you bite your lip, a little moan escaping you.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” Dean says, his lips finding your neck, licking the skin there. The way he’s moving his hips is too perfect, a slight pivot upwards when he enters you that makes him bump into all the right places.

You feel another orgasm on the horizon just as Dean starts sucking a mark into your skin. It’s a dumb thing to do, really, because everyone will be able to see it and know what it is, but you don’t care because it feels like his lips were made for exactly this.

You run one hand into his hair, gripping it, while the other is around his shoulders, holding onto him because he is indeed taking you to Pound Town.

“Fuck, yes, you’re so good,” you pant and you expect another line about how you’re obviously not getting it at home but Dean must me closer to his own orgasm than you think, because he just sort of grunts, but then he lets go of your neck and instead brings his lips closer to your ear instead.

“Think I can make you scream my name again?” he says, his voice sounding shaky, but damn if his cockiness isn’t doing all the right things to you.

Your release is getting closer and closer so as an answer you start kissing him again, because you don’t trust your brain to come up with a witty retort. He returns the kiss and you suck on his tongue, but then you need to let go because your body is tensing up as you’re coming.

You scream something, something that could be Dean’s name but also an ancient Latin summoning spell, it’s not totally clear. However it sounds, Dean seems to like it, because he pumps into you a few more times before he’s breathing hard and saying: “I’m so close, baby.”

You bring your face up to his, leaning your forehead against his, while his thrusts shake you. This way you can look into his eyes, that perfect green that you could stare into forever, at least until he presses his face into the side of yours instead because he is coming.

He’s shaking above you, a long moan escaping him, as he keeps thrusting into you to ride it out. You clench around him, making sure to get as much of him as possible.

He stays over you, his mouth near your ear so you can hear and feel his heavy breathing, and you rub your hands over his back, before he pushes himself up.

He kisses you again, and then pulls himself out of you, and drops himself on his back next to you. You’re pretty sure your legs are shot with how hard he fucked you, but you weren’t planning on going anywhere anyway.

Out of the corner of your eyes you see Dean run his hands through his hair. You drop one hand on his chest, your knuckles gently stroking his skin.

“What was… that?” you say after a few seconds.

“That,” Dean says, taking your hand in his and bringing it up to his lips before laying it back on his chest. “That was an earth shattering orgasm, you should recognize these by now.” You chuckle.

“Thought it felt familiar,” you say. “But no, I mean that whole stranger in the bar, fucking me behind my husband’s back business.” You turn your head in his direction. “Didn’t know you were into that.”

Dean looks at you, a cheeky grin on his face. “Just thought I’d try it. I saw that douche chatting you up at the bar, thought it might be fun.” He’s petting your hand now, your wrist. You nod. “Fun it was.”

But then you frown. “You don’t imagine yourself as the husband in this, right?” Dean shakes his head.

“Nah,” he says, “I’m just the stud giving you the night of your life.” He shrugs, the free arm going behind his head. “Maybe we run away together, live in sin.”

“You’re a romantic deep at heart,” you chuckle. He squeezes your hand. “Don’t tell anyone.”

You take your hand back, but only to scoot up to Dean. He opens his arm, letting you lie your head on it, then brings it around you, pulling you close for a second while he kisses your temple, making you hum. When he lets go, his fingers graze the gold chain around your neck.

“You know you’re not gonna lose it, right?” he says quietly. You pull on the chain, hold the ring between your fingers.

“I did lose it, Dean,” you say. “When we had to dig up that grave in Missouri, remember?”

You’re asking him to remember but you don’t even want to remember yourself:

When you realized that the ring wasn’t on your finger any longer it had turned you into a blubbering mess, Dean searching for it while also trying to assure you that it wasn’t a big deal, that you could replace it. But you didn’t want to replace it.

He had found it of course, your hero, and when he pushed it onto your finger, for the second time you later noted, you had hugged him and kissed him, your tears making his face wet.

Now you pull the chain off your neck, open it, and let the ring slide into your palm. You put it on and then drop your hand back on Dean’s chest. He takes it again immediately, and you see a short glimmer of his own ring. He’s always wearing his. He says he’s never taking it off. You smile at the thought.

“What are you thinking?” Dean asks.

“Just that this is exactly what I was hoping for when you said we should have a date night for our anniversary.” Dean chuckles.

“I promise I thought we would have drinks and dinner first,” he replies. You turn your head and grin at him.

“If only there hadn’t been that handsome stranger at the bar,” you say.

Dean leans his head, kisses you on the nose. “Or that hot wife.” 

[totalswag]

tell me if you like it — RAFE CAMERON

authors note HIGHLY recommend you listen to me & you by cassie remix because it gives me total rafe vibes. i'm so close to 800 lovies, i adore you all. i switched my style with line dividers and i'm probably gonna stick with it for now on.

summary you've had your eyes on rafe cameron for sometime now and everyone knows your attraction towards him. you attend one of his parties one friday night with your girlfriends and make your official move on the kook king.

warnings drinking, smoking, alcohol, drugs, partying, kissing/making out, mentions of sex,

Rafe Cameron sent out a text about throwing a party at his place while Ward and Rose are out of town for the weekend. The minute word got out people were talking about the party.

You knew the instant after receiving the text that tonight would be the night you made your official move on Rafe Cameron. Everyone, including Cameron, knows you've had your eye on him for a while.

Rafe is waiting for you to make your final move, according to Topper and Kelce. To you, he appears to be playing a game, a waiting game. So you've been playing the game he prefers.

You’ve always wondered why Rafe himself hasn’t made his move on you yet. The thought runs through your mind occasionally.

The party was full when you arrived. People were drunk, smoking weed, doing other drugs, dancing, and who knows what else.

You came in with your head held high, scanning the crowd for your friend group, but first you needed a drink.

You walked into the kitchen, which was stocked with various types of alcohol. You are craving seltzer, so you grabbed a truly from the fridge. You went on a search for your friends after closing the frigid.

Your name was called from the corner of the house by the girls. When you saw them wave you over, you turned in their direction. When they saw you approaching, their mouths dropped open.

"I must say Y/N, you look so hot!" Ella, one of your best friends, says she's hyping you up by gazing at you up and down.

"If Rafe doesn't get you tonight, he's definitely going to miss out," Melina says, resting against the wall.

The other girls agreed with Melina and Ella's comments.

"You two are really kind. Plus, y'all look so good I might melt" you compliment them back.

"I'll be making my final move on him; I just need to find him first," you say with a nice smile, gazing over your shoulder for Cameron boy.

"Dude we saw him earlier walking out back to smoke a blunt with Kelce but haven't seen him since" Ella informs you.

Thirty minutes go by, you four are dancing together to the beat of the music. Laughing and drinking together while listening to music that keeps you dancing.

For the past five minutes you can feel eyes on you the entire time you’ve been dancing with the girls. You lift your head up slowly, Rafe is standing with a group of his friends.

You’ve been waiting so long, I’m here to answer your call.

I know that I shouldn’t have had you waiting at all.

You two lock eyes. No one is breaking it.

He's dressed in a white tee, black cargo pants, a gold chain around his neck, and a snapback. Oh, that gold chain.

As you continue to dance to the beat of the song, tension builds in your body. Knowing Rafe is watching gives you excitement. You look over your shoulder, he's looking at you amongst the crowd of people.

You tell the girls as you pull away you are gonna have a little chat with Rafe for a moment but knowing that will be a for a while.

When Rafe sees you getting closer, he feels his body tense up. More so with excitement.

“Hey Rafe,” you smiled nicely, giving him a hug, running your hand down his arm.

He wraps his arm around you, “hey Y/N” Rafe says, looking down at you softly, “How are you enjoying the party?” He asks before taking a sip of his drink in his free hand.

“Yeah, I am. My friends and I have been having a great time” You say, trying to play it off you are about to make your final move.

Throughout the conversation, you keep eye contact, something you've always done with people. Conversation was casual yet with a hint of flirtatious moments.

Rafe's body communicates that he is attempting to maintain his calm. You tilt your head slightly, a smile spreading across your face.

"If you girls need anything I'll be around the house," he lets you know, moving his hand in a circling motion.

Your thinking tells you to say something that will catch him off guard.

Slowly nodding, stepping on your tiptoes, placing your free hand around Rafe's neck and dragging him to your height, "What if I need something from you?" Your voice sounded enticing, as you pull away.

Your gaze lands on the gold chain. Playing with it, twisting it with your index finger. 

Rafe's lip slides against his bottom lip, forming into a smirk. He knows what you are doing to him. He likes it.

I know I shouldn't have you waiting at all.

I've been so busy, but I've been thinking about you.

What I wanna do to you.

"Oh really, what would that be? enlighten me,"

Oh he's really good you think to yourself.

"I think you know what I mean, Rafe."

"I don't think I do, Y/N," mocking your tone.

In your mind, you want to go and see what he does, or you want to stay by his side for the rest of the night and sleep in his sheets. It can go either way, but you'll most likely be in his sheets, or not.

You finally inform Rafe that you'll be getting back to your girlfriends, who are waiting for you someplace in the home. The look on his face indicated that he did not want you to leave him.

He leans nearer and places his hand on your wrist, "No, don't leave right now. Can I give you a tour of the the house?" He suggested.

You give him a questionable look as if you were debating it.

"Vip access for special people,"

Jack pot.

"I would love that."

The rest of the night, you stayed at Rafe's side. You had him hooked around your finger and it only took you a few words out your mouth. The expressions on your girls' faces were wonderful; they were secretly cheering you on across the room. Of course, they kept a close eye on you while enjoying themselves.

When Rafe took you around the house, he made sure you had the best tour of your life. You could not believe how large the house was. He showed you his room last, which was maintained clean and tidy. His tv is on the wall below his dresser. The smell of cologne flooded your lungs and smelled pleasant.

After, you two took a few shots, smoked a joint, played drinking games, danced, and made out.

You now have your back against Rafe's chest, and his hand is around your waist, holding you close. You'll occasionally move your hips to the side to the beat of the song, causing him to pull you closer.

Everyone has taken to the dance floor in the huge living room. You both circle all of Rafe's buddies. You've met them many times before. Your girlfriends were a few feet away.

Rafe's hand was gliding itself up and down your waist then your ass giving it a couple squeezes.

You turn around and place both hands on his lower the abdomen. You looked at each other with lust and desperation. You examine his lips first, contemplating whether you should kiss him first. You do. 

Lips moved in sync. Tongues fighting for dominance. The feeling felt electric. Your body was craving him more and more.

"I think it's time I gave me another good tour, but this time in my bedroom," he breathlessly mumble in your ear, eager.

You groan from his words, nodding.

The way he spoke those words to you made you feel like you were on cloud nine. Excitement in your lower stomach started jumping.

Before you head upstairs, Rafe wraps his arm around Topper's shoulder, whispers in his ear, "Make sure you get these people out of here in an hour, then you can either stay here or go home." Topper nods and pats his shoulder.

You couldn't take your hands off each other on the way up to his bedroom; laughing, touching, and kissing. 

"You look so beautiful tonight, couldn't take my eyes off you," he says as he lays you on his soft sheets, runs his hands down your sides, and admires your physique.

The words coming out Rafe's mouth made your cheeks grow red. You watch Rafe's eyes scan your body before he grabs the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your body.

You feel yourself grow impatient, Rafe senses it, he smirks.

"Don't worry, angel, we're just getting started," he said, dropping his head, kissing your stomach, and moving closer to your underwear line.

Your hands slide through his hair, gently pulling, eliciting a gasp from Rafe's lips. You smirk at yourself.

Pulls your skirt down and throws your underwear across the room before bringing itching closer to your core. Chills run down your spine, and you breathe heavily as Rafe's breath fans on your bare core.

The sexual tension grows stronger. Rest of your night consisted of the both of your moans filling the bedroom.

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[dredgesnails]

stardew valley au where joel and skizz are new residents to pelican town (hermit town?). joel just inherited a large farm from his late grandfather and skizz is moving in with his old friend after reconnecting with him and wanting a fresh start. and the townspeople are like, kinda weird.

bdubs is fine enough - he’s a sweet man with a fun personality and he’s the local builder, but it’s almost frightening how fast he constructs new buildings when joel needs them. pearl, their resident postmaster, is also pretty normal other than the fact that skizz never seems to be awake early enough to catch her delivering mail. scar is lovely but he’s never available when joel wants another chicken. the mayor, xisuma, is pleasant too, if a little eccentric at times, but he doesn’t really seem to do much in town.

for the most part, skizz is settling in well. he’s moved in with impulse, who runs the local blacksmith in town, and he gets along well with most of the local townspeople. he’s started spending his evenings at the local saloon listening to ren regale the patrons with fantastical tales while he and stress serve up food and drinks, and he finds himself growing close with cleo, the local sculptor. he even gets a new wardrobe from hypno free of charge, and sometimes helps cub out with his totally scientific studies and creations.

skizz also joins forces with beef (who helps to supply the local general store that xb and keralis run) in terrorising the local manager of the corporate chain grocery store that no one likes. doc is a terrible manager but would make a fun supervillain (according to joe hills, the bookseller who appears once in a blue moon but seems to know doc more than anyone in town).

joel, on the other hand, seems to only be interacting with the strangest residents in town. he discovers the adventurer’s guild after only a couple weeks. false promises to give him prizes if he can kill enough monsters, which is not something joel had expected to be doing when he pictured farm life, but here he is. he stumbles upon a travelling cart one day, and the man inside insists he’s a knight from a faraway land, that he risked his life to make it all the way here to sell his wares. it’s all stuff joel can get cheaper elsewhere.

he’s pretty sure the local doctor has no real medical training, but then he passes out while fighting monsters and he wakes up completely fine, so zedaph probably knows what he’s doing. maybe. when joel isn’t passing out he sometimes makes trips to the library-slash-museum, which is probably almost completely empty because mumbo, who begs joel for anything to display, looks like he’s never fought a duggie in his life. eventually mumbo gives joel a key to the sewers, which are way cooler than they have any right to be, and that’s where he finds jevin’s secret sewer shop. jevin lives in town. he just also has a shop hidden underground. joel has stopped asking questions by now.

and then there are the three who live by the beach. etho spends most of his time tinkering around the fishing hut or hovering around bdubs, but sometimes he drives the bus to the desert. only sometimes. there might be something under his mask. no one knows for sure. gem runs the fish shop most days and she claims she’s a sailor, but joel has never seen a single working boat around despite all the ocean. she can also hold her breath underwater for an uncannily long amount of time, like, scarily so, and will sometimes disappear for a few days and return with an abundance of treasures. joel has never seen her leave by boat. grian fishes a lot and runs the shop when gem can’t, and he sometimes talks as though the sea can speak to him. skizz has caught him staring into space for extended periods of time. one time he waded into the water and just stood there, head down, muttering to himself.

apparently there used to be a lighthouse but “it’s gone now”. gem says if they ask bdubs nicely enough maybe they can build another one, but she and grian are banned from build requests after the last incident with their pet snails (joel has never seen the snails, but scar complains about them enough to convince him they’re real).

there also might be some kind of wizard who lives in the creepy tower in the woods. skizz has heard he’s the one who helps maintain the power in the valley, and joel’s convinced he hallucinated seeing him once until he recieves a letter from the wizard himself, and visits him only to find that the strange fire-creature he saw that one time was, in fact, tango, who is human for the most part, he just sets himself on fire sometimes.

[legendofmorons]

Please consider: one of the boys gets stranded from the group and promptly ambushed. As he was left alone, he wasn’t able to protect himself to the best of his abilities and the others are no where to be seen. Out of the blue, Reader, who he has never met before, begins beating the snot out of that poor offending monster. Turns out, they are a traveler of some variety who got roped into this adventure by one strange looking shadow.

How would the boys react to being protected by someone they have never met before, someone who seems altruistic in their intent?

I love your writing and I would be interested to see who you think would have the most interesting response to this. Please remember that you are appreciated and loved for all that you do. You create masterpieces with your words, and for that, we are grateful.

-VS

Chain is stranded, reader saves them

This is such a GOOD concept!! If anyone wanted a fic I'd be happy to do one.

Content under the cut, boys are in alphabetical order. (Slowly catching up, but I am tentatively back.)

Four

He's probably just greatful for the assist.

Maybe a little curious about where you came from but he'll ask questions later.

If he can he tries to help ypu right back

He'll thank you after and offer to help you back to your home/town

Would probably check you for injuries he could see

Overall he's both a little confused and very grateful

Hyrule

He's thanking you the moment you start to help

His world is fairly sparse, so any aid is appreciated

If he can, after the fight is done he'll try to heal you

If he cannot, he'll offer a potion or something

He offers to walk you home or to let you stay with him until a time you can go home

He very grateful over all, would try to get you food as payment

Legend

Immediately torn between grateful and suspicious.

It's convenient you just showed up.

But if you were going to kill him you probably wouldn't be trying to save him. So he doesn't accuse you

When it's over he thanks you and tries to send you on your way.

Would help you if you injured yourself protecting him.

He would throw you to the wolves, so if you need him to travel with you for a bit he will, but he's still a little suspicious of your intent.

He's still glad you came and helped him through.

Sky

He's definitely surprised.

But he's very grateful and will tell you at least twice

More trusting than some of the others

Will offer you healing items afterwards

He's chattier than others too, he's likely to ask you about yourself while you guys find a way towards wherever you've chosen to go.

Time

Probably in pretty bad shape if he needs saving, so if he's not talkative don't take ot to heart

He might be unconscious honestly. He's got too many tools to go down easy.

But after it's all said and done he thanks you and offers to get you home and fed.

He's not the most trusting, but he's friendly enough now.

Twilight

He's grateful and says as much as soon as you step in.

He will patch you up afterwards too they all would honestly

Probably less surprised than others he grew up in a small town where people were friendly

Might compliment your fighting

Warriors

Embarrassed and grateful. He's captain of the royal gaurd he shouldn't need help.

But he IS grateful. He's glad you were there because regardless of his emotions, he NEEDED help

Would subconsciously analyze your stance and movements because again... captain.

Will thank you.

Wild

Suspicious. Immediately. His Hyrule is sparsely populated and he's always worried about Yiga.

But he's still grateful.

He'd probably offer you a snack or potion as thanks. Maybe invite you to stay for dinner.

Wind

Oh, he's probably offering you a shiny trinket as thanks.

He's more trusting than some of the others.

Will demand to trade battle stories.

He's a sweetheart and will probably also offer for you to join them for lunch/dinner.

[ryomens-vixen]

420 w/ 90s Toji

CW: Toji himself is enough warning, rough sex, car sex, gun play, ass eating, profanity, reader is black coded and so is toji.

Author's note: If you have problem with me making toji speak in AAVE please don't hesitate to eat my fat ass about it, please and thank you.

Word count: YIPPIE Y'all finally get a word count! 2.6k ✨

Summary: If you ever wanted to get high the Toji here's your chance.

“Give yuh my fuckin babies bruh, I'ma give yuh my fuckin babies, Ma.”

How did you end up here? Going to pound town in the back of a Toji's big daddy truck, high as hell in a smoke filled truck- oh that's right you know how. It really started when you were out with the boys chillin- the boys meaning Satoru, Suguru, and Kento. You were watching them shooting hoops, Then the hood's hottest DILF and Whore pulled up with his kid- Megumi, he's such a cutie when he isn't mean muggin everyone and when he comes to his dad? Oh boy he doesn't play he's such a daddy's boy that Toji can't even pick up women without the lil boy tagging along. Megumi calls most of the shots anyways- if you're pretty to him that Toji will definitely fuck with you, if not? Ain't no use in talking to him, you're cooked.

Today T-Raw was up to no good as usual not only did he come to shoot some hoops, but he also came to pick up a couple of ladies to “take out” later on- Here is goes taking off that slutty tank top of his, not like he can ever keep his clothes on anyways, that fuckin slut- you couldn't stand him. You couldn't stand him because all he does is fuck around and drive all these bitches crazy about him- clearly his dick can't be that good to be chasing him around like that, or so you thought.

“you bet not cum on this dick yet bitch, I ain't done wit cho ass, c'mere!”

Fuck how did you get here… oh yeah that's right, it really started when they was playing B-ball. Megumi kept looking at you and since he's practically his father's wing man you were hoping the lil boy didn't think you were pretty, then he spoke to you- talking about the dogs at their house to showing you his gold chain Toji bought him. But then it happened megumi ran off to go tell his dad about you.. Just your luck right? Riiiiight..

The whole game stopped because megumi had so much to say about you, hell he even told the guys you're his new mama because of how beautiful you are and it had T-Raw checking you out even Satoru gassed him up to go holla at you.

“Her? Oh that's y/n, you tryna fuck on her? Shit she hard to talk to, but on ma the pussy good as fuck she was just fuckin on me and Suguru last week.” Satoru had promised he'd never tell a soul that y'all fucked, but you have known that not even Satoru himself could hold a glass on water.

And just like that Toji was convinced enough to come see bout you.

“Wass good ma”

“..... “

“Hello? Mamas, So you sit finna talk to me? C'mon ion bite, baby.”

“Don't sit up here tellin them lies we all know yo ass bite.”

He chuckled, “Got a lil attitude problem. I like dat mamas. how bout you come smoke with me later on tonight.”

“I'm not one of these other bitches Toji so go find somebody to play with cause it ain't me.”

“Sound like you ain't had no dick Inna minute-”

“Maybe I don't want no dick from you!?”

Yeah, that's how it all went down. You were giving him too much lip that it was turning him on, that's why he didn't let up on you. He wanted to put you in your bratty ass place once and for all because clearly Satoru and Suguru didn't do it right. Naw you obviously needed some dick from big daddy himself, T-Raw.

Now here you are sitting in his truck getting hot boxed to hell, while Satoru and Suguru babysit megumi for that night, and man did you get the feeling neither of y'all would be able to make it home after this smoke session.

“You Eva put a blunt in yo pussy? I'll light for you- We gotta get fat ma blazed too yah feel me?”

What the fuck did he just say? “Toji shut the fuck up!” You have to admit that was pretty funny and wild to say at a time like this, but he isn't so bad right? Wrong.

You couldn't tell if it was the Kush getting to you or what, but with every minute that passed by he started to look more and more attractive. “Keep it together bitch” is what you thought to yourself, you didn't want to fuck around and find out why all his bitches were so crazy over him.

“So when you gone put that pussy on me, mamas?”

What the hell did he just say?

“I know she wet as fuck f'me, come climb on daddy's lap fo a minute.” this whole time his hand had been gripping your thigh close enough to your coochie. Yeah she was wet- soaking wet actually, but you weren't willing to admit that.. At least not verbally, because your body betrays you.

Before you knew it you had succumbed to his slick mouth, but it's not like you didn't fight about it. Oh but he loves a good ole brat- he loves the way they break once they've had a taste of his ten inch punisher and you were gonna break for him too.

“Bet you won't suck dis dick”

“Yeah I BET I won't, the fuck?”

“So all dat freak shit you do wit gang and nem just fo show, huh? Knew you wasn't bout nothin”

“Excuse me?!” How the fuck did he even know about that?! I bet Satoru told him, yeah totally never fuckin him again.

“You heard me, Ma. Chu ain't bout dat life fo'real.”

“Says who? I do what the fuck I want, when I want and who I want.”

“I betchu won't come fuck me then.”

“Bet!”

It all started with you giving him the best toe curling head he ever had, the way you kissed on the tip, licked him up from Gooch to tip, the way you suffocated on his dick, yeah you took all ten inches and he loved every bit of it “Fuck, y- you a nasty bitch” is what he groaned, he felt so good he took a chunk of your hair into his fist and held you still so he could fuck that throat of yours. You were his bitch now, you definitely weren't going nowhere sucking his dick this good.

You thought it'd stop at that no- you found yourself eating this man's ass like a full course meal, like you were hungry and it wasn't even your idea, it was his and you can thank his old bitch for that. Man was he a freak having his legs in the fuckin air, lighting another blunt while he watches you eat his ass. This was way out of your league, eating ass? Not even Satoru and Suguru made you do this, but at least you learned a thing or two from fuckin around with Mei Mei and Shoko one time. Honestly you were scared to even put your tongue down there, thinking he was dirty, but he was surprisingly clean.

“Dirty ass bitch get in the back, c'mon” he was ready, and you were nervous. We're you gonna be like all these other bitches that fucked him and started acting crazy, or were you gonna treat like you treat Satoru and Suguru? It was hard to tell because you never heard any complaints about Toji unless it's about him not answering his phone or talking to other bitches, the works.

“Bet yo dick ain't even that big-”

“Shut cho ass up and bend ova bitch I'll show yo ass how big it is.”

That was your mistake- bending over. Toji pushed your skirt up over your waist and wasted no time ripping those sexy panties off. Your pussy was dripping for him, spreading your asscheeks apart Toji took his cock in hand and rubbed it all along your wet folds, teasing you while you waited anxiously for him to fuck you- so anxious that you started popping off at the mouth again.

“Can't find the hole ol’ man?”

“Can't wait to shut cho lil ass up-”

“Pus-”

Then it happened he shut you up with the quickness, ramming all ten inches into that tight wet pussy of yours. It felt like your body took a screenshot from feeling his cock hit your cervix like that all you could do was tremble and tear up. You felt so full, hell you felt like his dick was somehow in your chest it was so fuckin big that you could hardly adjust to it.

Reaching back to place your hand on his abdomen was your biggest mistake ever “Move yo fuckin hand” is all he said before take ahold of your arm, bending it it behind your back and using his weight to push his cock deeper into you as if it wasn't deep enough.

The only thing that gave you enough relief was when he pulled out, you could finally breathe that was until he rammed his cock back inside… over and over and over again. He was so rough it felt like your mind was going blank all you could think about was how good your feeling right now, how deep his cock is, how your moans were practically stuck in your throat, toji had your eyes rolling back he even put his blunt out on your asshole so he could focus on fuckin you, god he was a nasty, nasty man, no wonder everyone was crazy for him.

The truck was rocking, you finally let out a strained moaned, Toji was fuckin you so ruthlessly leaving hand prints on your asscheeks, pushing down on your lower back to make you arch some more for him, grabbing fists full of your hair as he leaned his weight into every thrust. Your mind was going crazy, but you weren't the only one- Toji was too. Not only was he high as all hell, he was starting to get drunk off your pussy. He was loving how tight you were around him, squeezing and sucking him back into you- in his mind you were doing this on purpose, throwing that pussy- HIS pussy back on him like that yeah to him you knew exactly what you were doing.

“Man fuck! Fuck you let then two fools hit before me?! Fuckin slut” God he put his weight into it again.

“Lil bratty ass bitch got nothin to say now, say sumthin else, come bitch say some more slick shit for daddy so I keep on tearin this pussy up!”

You were past cloud nine at this point everything felt good, his dick, his words, his thrusts, everything. You almost lost your mind when he reached out in front of you and grabbed his gun. That's when you realized how crazy this man is- he pulled out a damn gun!? For what!? Now you see why everyone is so crazy about him.

“T- Toji Wa-”

“Shut the fuck up” he pulled out panting and started rubbing the barrel of it against your wet folds. “How you gone feel if I put this glock 30 in this pussy? Hm? Talk to me mamas, I'm not fuckin done witchu”

“Toji i-”

“It's T-Raw, bitch.” You trembled the second he pushed the barrel inside your pussy. You couldn't tell if you were scared or excited, but you knew one thing he sure as hell was excited just from pumping your pussy with his glock.

“You's a nasty dirty ass, bitch, throwin back on MY gun, bet it ain't as good as this mufuckin pipe.” He had a cocky tone to his voice while he was gripping the hell out of his cock and fisting it vigorously. “Fuck it-” he tossed his gun to the side causing you the whimper from the sudden emptiness, but that was soon replaced with him slamming his cock back in, then reaching around you to grab ahold of the sides of your mouth as he drilled you, drool on his fingers and arm rest, drool on his cock that's how he liked it.

You could feel a knot in the pit of your pussy, you were so close, tears welled up in your eyes, you were going to burst at this rate, if he kept up brutal pace he'll be cleaning up coochie juice for weeks with the way you around to cum. You reached in between your legs to rub circles onto your clit to help get you to that big orgasm you've always wanted..

“T- T-Raw! F- Fuck! Daddy I'm gonna cum!”

Toji was so lost in your pussy it was almost like he was in another world, You were just too good for him. It was driving him crazy. He almost didn't register what you said at first, you? About to cum? Yeah no he couldn't have that yet, not until HE is done.

“you bet not cum on this dick yet bitch, I ain't done wit cho ass, c'mere!” Suddenly, He puts you into one of the meanest chokeholds you had ever been in, pulling your body onto his lap so that you're sitting on his fat cock with your legs propped up on the back on the front seats. Fuck he really wasn't done with you for real.

“Can't NOBODY fuck you like I do, you ain't gone be thinkin of nobody's dick, but mine after I'm done, you hear me bitch?! Take that shit, take it, take it, take it, Ah Fuck-!”

You couldn't breathe, your eyes were touching the back of your head, he was beating your pussy in and you couldn't do anything about it. His dick was good… too good in fact, he was slutting you out better than Satoru, Suguru, hell even Choso- but none of them know about that one. You could almost guarantee your brain chemistry has been altered just from the way he's trying to put his dick up your coochie, through your stomach and behind the left rib. All you could do now was take his dick like the good little bitch that you are.

“Give yuh my fuckin babies bruh, I'ma give yuh my fuckin babies, Ma.”

“Yes! G- Give it to me T-Raw! Give it to me Daddy!”

His thrust became sloppy and his grip around your neck tightened, he was definitely about to cum inside your sweet pussy, yet that's really you wanted now was for him to fill your pussy up with his baby batter. He let on one loud “Fuck” into your ear and rammed his dick inside you one more time, all you could feel so was his cock pumping his load inside you.

Once he was finished he let go of your throat, both of you panting and trying to catch your breath. But the thing is you didn't get to cum yet and toji knew that and all he could do was smirk at your pouty lil face for not making you cum too.

“What? Yah mad bitch? Brats like yo ass don't deserve to cum.” He took his left over blunt and lit it.

“But since you was a good fuck I'll let you cum this once, but I ain't helpin, so bounce on dis dick all you want.”

“B.. But T-Raw”

“What the fuck did I just say? Huh? Get to fuckin bouncing, I'm waiting slut.”

You know it, you were going to be crazy just like all his other bitches after tonight… ain't no way you're going back to the boys, ever.

Tags: @littlemochabunni @blkkizzat @arlerts-angel @ramonathinks @nkogneatho @tonycries @connorsui @honeeslust @halosdiary @hoshigaby @screampied @rinhaler @buttercupblu @triangularz @fairy-hub

[agirlwholovesrockstars]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖𝓷𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽𝓼 𝓲𝓷 𝔀𝓱𝓲𝓽𝓮 𝓼𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓷.𖥔 ݁ ˖

☾ summary : Rome has never been the same since Emperor's Geta wife died, can you bring back the life he has before?

☾ pairing : Widowed!Emperor Geta x Servant!FEM!reader

☾ wc : 18+ MDNI angst, slow-burn, struggling with grief, fluff, smut, aftercare <3, Geta refers reader as "lass", discrimination, cursing, slight harassment, attempted poisoning, allusions to sexism and misogyny, appearance of General Acacius & Caracalla, hostile, aggression, no use of y/n, historical inaccuracies, reader is intelligent and different among the others

☾ agatha's masterlist ☾

"Leave me be!"

"Sire-"

"I said leave me be!"

The consul's scrambled everywhere as they quickly exited the room, numerous chatter swirled the area, he is upset yet again, it appears so

"Rome will fall, if he can't do his culpability" the patrician speak as he smirks taking a sip of his wine on a chalice

"Says who drowned themselves in leisure, yes, you have the power but you patricians who doesn't even contribute to this society, meaning you have no use at all!" one of the consul's spits venom that provoked the man in front of him as they clashed together in a heated argument that turned into a fight

"Enough of this foolishness!"

All of the men stopped abruptly as they saw who walked by

"The emperor is not in the mood for political talk as of the moment, so, all of you are dismissed!"

"Apologies, General Acacius" the member of the consul's shakes his head, absolutely humiliated by the behavior of the Senate, at a disapproval manner as he nudges his head at the door

"Have I not been clear? I needed to be alone"

"It's me, your liege"

He stifle an angry sigh when he recognized the male's voice as he clears his throat, he twists on his rings as he helped him calm for a bit as he turns around slowly, a twinkle on his eyes, the frown that he has on earlier has curved up into a slight smile

He won again, conquering every country that he commands him to do

"Pardon me for barging in but now it is done, can I see my wife and k-"

"There are more victories still yet to come"

He doesn't even let him finish, Acacius has to swallow his frustrations and sadness as he had to remain respectful in front of his Lord, but deep down, he knew

He always knew that he won't get out of this anytime soon, he is like tied to a chain that couldn't break

Taking over the next land and after the next place, it is very tiresome and he doesn't want to be remembered this way

He has seen so many innocent lives that he has to took just because of an order from the highest ruler of Rome, it's execution if he disoblige it, even he's the most-skilled General who won many battles but that's all erased when you're chosen for this duty

He doesn't even feel like he is doing his job as a General, he feels like a slave

It's an endless cycle, he figured that this is his coping mechanism ever since he rages out of nowhere, he can't even see the Emperor he once knew, he knew his ladywife back in the day when there's no blood spilt in the streets of Rome

He also knew that his own wife didn't want this for him and for Rome

But, can he blame him? He loved her too much and her being the leverage of why he does his responsibility so smoothly, his inspiration

Geta, he once knew didn't care about being powerful, untouchable, or feared, he was already contented on what he has have while being the Emperor and an Empress on his side

But that life strucked him out of it after his wife died on incurable disease

Everybody knew how this story goes, the town, the soldiers, and you

"Me and my dear brother are going to celebrate and set up a new entertainment for your winning" Geta says triumphantly as he missed the melancholic gaze that his General has

"The Colosseum, I presume?" He let out a small sigh as he forced a light smile

"Yes, Acacius, The Colosseum indeed"

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Whilst the action is happening, the crowds roar in cheer, Caracalla snickering in excitement as he sits besides his brother

Upon watching, Geta eyes never leaves in the field as he takes a huge gulp from his chalice, his face contorts into a unpleasantness as he drops the chalice alerting everyone around him, he holds his stomach in the process

He raises a hand not to do anything but when he starts violently coughing he falls back down in the ground, the shock gasps from the townspeople and so as the other upper social class that accompanied the two twin emperor's and the fighting in the dirt down under also caught attention in this

"Emperor Geta has been poisoned!" The consul's takes the chalice from the ground as he notices the wine has been spiked in some kind of a dangerous element in the drink

"Brother?" Caracalla immediately concerned to his twin and it makes him even more worried when he doesn't received anything from his brother, to that, he signals the gladiator's away and calls it off

"Can you find who it is and bring him to me, I'm sure whoever that was hasn't gone far enough" General Acacius asks one of his troops to search the one who intently wants to kill his Emperor

He is well aware of how cruel his ruler is, no matter how bad he was, it is no right to take someone's life

"He has to rest but I'm not sure he will live long enough" The nurse defeatedly as he releases a shaky breath

"What?!?" Caracalla panicks as he breathes heavily, he doesn't know what to do, only his brother can do bigger decisions for them and he don't know what he'll do if his brother passes away

He catches his brother stirred in a painful movement as he exasperatedly sighs as he gestures the nurse outside of the room to talk privately

Unbeknown to them, you we're there already waiting for the right moment, you have prepared the healing mixture in a bowl and you quickly took a spoonful of it

"Your grace, this will make you feel better"

A voice

A voice from a young woman beside him, he can't look at you closely when he's in a state of being delirious in this horrible feeling that is going on his system

He manages to ate everything that you could give him but you flinched at the sound of the banging doors

"Peasant!" Caracalla shouts as the glasses on every window ringed at the loudest tone that he directly went into you

"Merciful heavens-" The nurse exclaims as he snatches the bowl from your hands as you bowed your head down

You are not allowed to speak or even look at them unless they ask you to

Caracalla inspects on what you did but he saw his brother features eased a little bit when seconds ago he looked like he is in agony but of course, he doesn't want to give you the satisfaction that you obviously helped him but he doesn't stand you considering you're his personal servant before

"Scram!" He yells and your shoulders shook as you get on your feet together as you headed out of the door

The nurse swipes a finger on the bowl as he tasted it

"What is it?"

"It's....honey...sir"

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You know what you have done was risky and life threatening to be exact since you know how the twin emperor's punished everyone who dares to belittle them or underestimated them

You also knew, you are not someone who is in the higher class of the empire, you are no one

You're just a simple servant who follows commands, cleans, serves, and does all the work for them to keep the palace sleek and comfortable to them

But you've been here for far too long and learned that Geta, he has more humanity left in him than his brother

"Geta is soulless" they say, but to you, he is still there and he is still the same just waiting for someone to unleash it, you can see it in his eyes sometimes, you know all he wanted was to rest for a while but being an Emperor is an enormous weight on his shoulders to be carried because everyone expects him to make Rome great again

You admired him despite the unholiness things he has done, in your heart, you will always going to accept him

But you will always be the one who looks at him from afar because you're just a servant, if things were in a different circumstances you could've talk to him in an easy way but that only happens in dreams

"This is the girl who gave you that whatever substance that she made you eat last night" Caracalla drags you all the way to Geta's room making you drop to your knees as he shoves you harshly to the marbled floor

Geta stares at you, he stood up from his bed as he walks forward to you

"Stand up"

You do as he says while keeping your head down, he encircles you, even you don't see his expressions you feel his gaze analyzing every bit of you

"The nerve of this-"

"Brother, I've had enough"

He huffs as he wrongly thinks that his twin suggesting you to warm his bed

You swallowed nervously at that as you controlled your calmed composure, you tried your best to mask your stunned expression when he denies his brother's words as he escorts him outside of his room

When he appears in front of you, he saids in a calmer tone, "Lift your head up" you do as he says but still avoiding his eyes

He shook his head sideways, "I gave you the permission to look at me no need to ask me again" he demands, his voice was firm this time

That's where you can see so much more of him, upclose and personal, it's the first time you laid your eyes on him like this, god, his eyes

It felt like you're staring at him for too long to other emperor's if you have done that, you could've lose your head so you avert your eyes to somewhere else too scared to get killed off on the spot

You know he doesn't have the same qualities like his brother but still you don't wanna disrespect him

He could sense your discomfort, he still continues to assure you, "I am not going to do anything to you, I just wanted to have a civilized conversation to you"

You lightly nod at that, he chuckles and that eases you out when you heard it, "Is that how it goes for everyone?" he walks towards to the balcony with his hands behind his back as he nudges his chin for you to come and join him

"Sometimes, your highness"

"Terror, the terror that gives it away" he saids in a unlikely manner it almost sounds like he is not proud of it

Since he convinced you twice not to be afraid around him, so, you took the chance to spoke up, "Is it true what you said back there?"

He hums in response, you continued "that.... you're not going to use me for your own pleasure?"

He turns his head at you, amused by the sudden boldness that you could ask directful question like that to an Emperor

"I-I am not like my brother, I don't treat women that way" he stutters as you caught a glimpse of misty glimmer on his eyes but he rapidly blinks away as he focuses his stare to something else

It seemed like you just crossed a line, so, you quickly said

"My sincerest apologies for asking such question-"

"No, forgive me, for my brother, My mother thought us how to be proper in courting women but our father was the coldest man in our childhood, I think he consumed that attitude not so much as I do" he explains as he gave you a small smile that is somehow genuine to you as he re-enters inside of his room drinking a glass of water

You followed suit as you stayed in your place not too close from him

"Now, where did you learn that?" He kept his eyes on you

He brings up the question about the syrup that you gave him last night

"From where I come from that's the natural remedies for stomach indigestion but it is commonly used for food poisoning" you plainly said

He thinks your words carefully, "How come you knew that I was having food poisoning?"

"You're acting like you're about to vomit that's one of the cases of the said sickness, and as for the culprit, I fear, whoever that was, has their mission failed unsuccessfully"

He laughs at the last comment, "Oh, General Acacius will deal with that"

"Do you feel better now, my lord?"

"Yes, I do now, thanks to you" he points his chalice to you as you flash him a quick smile

"Is there anything else that I could do for you before I leave?"

He waves his hand at you as you turn and open the door

"Hang on"

You halt in your tracks and you turned around to look at him, "Yes?"

"How come I don't see you around here before?"

You frown at that question, "I am forbidden to answer that, I'm sorry I must go"

Caracalla, he thinks to himself

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"Brother!"

"Geta, for heaven's sake, did you not learn how to knock?!?"

"Where did you find her?"

"Oh, the wretched servant girl?"

"Yes, the servant girl"

A bitter laugh erupts from his chest, "Why are your eyes flaring through me like I've done something wrong?"

"I asked you a question, brother, my patience is thinning"

"Why? Do you want me to get rid of her?"

"Listen here, she told me she is banned to speak her part....unless you imperil her life if she does"

"Oh, yes, we had an agreement" he trails off as Geta stomps forward to him as he pushes him off the chest

"She is my servant here, that's why you haven't seen her before because I prevented her to roam around our palace but that girl's head is stubborn as a rock and also she knows too much and it's outlandish for a young woman to behave like that"

"Where is she positioned then?" He ignores the unnecessary remark about you

"I gave her to you instead, I was supposed to end her life but one of the eldest servants of ours, begged for me to spare her life because I was informed that she excels in a lot of work that is done here"

Geta nods slowly as he thought about you for the second time of the day, it makes sense

"Brother, she is odd, unlike the other women that I brought here, sometimes I do think that she casts a spell on men, a woman shouldn't be that open minded or having a brain"

"Is that the very reason why you cast her out?"

"Yes" he answers absentmindedly

Geta shook his head in disbelief on his brother, "Good thing that you let her live because without her? I wouldn't be alive right now"

He leaves his brother's chambers alone in his own thoughts

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"Is everything settled?"

"Swell"

General Acacius exits the room preparing for another upcoming battle but this time, Geta will come along

You enter inside thought no one is in there, so, you froze standing there

"You can come in, I am about to leave"

You nod at his words as you start wiping with a damp cloth of the artifacts and statues, you didn't mean to look, you accidentally scan over to what he was holding and you saw the papers, it looks like a tatic and war strategy, you took a brief glance over at the weather outside

"I had a feeling it's going to rain hereafter"

Geta removes his eyes on the paper as he follows your gaze, he blinks once or twice, waiting for you to elaborate when you didn't catch on, he spoke

"What exactly you're trying to prattle?"

"I surmise that's your crusade with Sir Acacius?" You point out the paperwork that he's holding as he slowly nod with a perplexed expression trying to grasp your words but he is still evidently confused

Surmise? He'll vouch his own brother on that, he was right, you are no ordinary servant

You are educated, it is given

This makes him piques more interest of getting to know you more

"Yes, it is"

"Is the ground solid?"

"What?"

"The battlefield, is it dirt or solid?"

"Uh.... it's mud"

"I'd say don't wear any armor-"

He snorts, "That's baffling to say-"

"Because it makes you heavy and it's hard to yield your swords"

You watch him as if you can see his mind working on its gears, he raises both of his eyebrows when he finally got what you mean

"How are you certain about this?" He tries to confirm your words

"I just told you, my lordship, I had a feeling" you only shrug your shoulders as you glance at him

"I can't believe I am saying this but I am intrigued"

"One more thing, I suggest you let them come over first before you attack gather everyone at the area and then begin fighting at the pit"

You missed the way his eyes are so fixed on you as you talk, he haven't had this fascinating interaction in years

It's all new to him

"I'll consider your advices, lass"

You curtsey to him before you take your departure as you close the door behind you

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Good gracious

You we're right

If only you we're there to witness it

It's grotesque in all of sorts that Geta himself let all of his men killed one of his longtime foes in the Empire

They're supposed to fought together, but he kept slipping and embarrassing himself in front of him

He won, if he didn't revise his commitment on this, he would've lose it

Geta, however, delighted to celebrate this achievement, but something else is forming on his chest, he thought he could never felt it again after mourning the loss of his wife

You're not advised to meddle with the celebration but you longed for that someday, so, you saw him waving his hand at the townspeople by the window as you stop sweeping for a minute

You know that day won't come

"Before you go, can you call me a servant?" Geta laugh dies down as he straighten himself on the seat

"Yes, of course, your majesty" General Acacius saids fondly with a smile

"Which servant?"

"The bright one"

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"You summon for me?" You enter his chambers and tried to poise as if you're not exhausted and already dreaded the set of overloading tasks that you're going to do

"Yes, my dear-"

He stops and his smile falls, "What happened to your hands?"

You tensed when he takes a hold both of your hands, you watch him, you're insane if you think that he cares about you

But, it seems like he truly does, he's been gone for 2 months and didn't like that he comes home to see this

He disregard the news to you, seeing those scratches, redness, splotches on your soft skin, is mood killer to him

He grumbles his tone changed, "Come with me"

You can't hear what they're saying

You're an inch across in the hallway but you can only tell that Geta is sternly talking to the head of the maids in his palace

The poor middle aged maid who is once treated you unkindly before, to your observation, you feel that she is being sermon by Geta, she is petrified

"If you make her work 10x more harder than all of you usually do, I will have your head for the public to see"

"No! Please-"

"Get the fuck away from my sight"

She scurries from him with the eyes of horror in them

Your eyebrows pulled together in bewilderment

"I've lighten your work load" he grins at you and you get even more bamboozled than before, the only thing you overheard from him is his lowly chuckle

"What- excuse me? Sire?"

He left you hanging like that as you frustratedly sigh and you just went into your cramped room and all alone in your unanswered questions

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"Child, what are you doing here?"

"I-I thought I was assigned to the laundry today?"

"You're not one of us here, not anymore"

"Sorry?"

"You're Emperor Geta's private servant now"

You softly gasp at the revelation as your mouth is hanging agape and you let out a sound of surprise fall from your lips

To that, you headed towards Geta's room, you are more confident to step in anytime since he has never been awful to you

"What in the blazes-"

"There you are"

You felt the mood shift and your questions on your mind had been paused when you caught the broken voice from him

He carefully folded a very old brittle letters, you assume it belongs to his wife, it's delicate and it's very sentimental to him, he uses the back of his hand to wipe the tears on his eyes

"Geta?-"

"Can you lay down on the bed, please?"

You oblige as you get yourself comfortable on his bed, your concern in your eyes has never faltered when you noticed how distress he is

He took off his robe lets it fall down to the floor as he joins you in, you didn't watch him get beside you, you just stare at the ceiling, you felt the mattress dipped

You feel his eyes on you, he is hesitant, he even kept a personal space for you, but he just needs someone to burst this out this heavy feeling that he has

He's been carrying this for ages

And no one is there for him to lean on, until you came

You heard the sniffle as he hiccupped between sobs, "C-Can I hold you?"

"Yes, you may-"

You yelped when he reaches out and grab you and embraces you a bit tightly

That's where he let all of his tears fall as he wept hard on you in the crook of your shoulder

Your heartaches for him, you also realized that he hasn't got anyone to talk to, about this, you know the reason why

It will make him look weak

The moment you wrapped your arms around him, he brings you even more closer to him, you run down your hand on his back from up and down as you let him wallow to you

You comforted him until the both of you drifted away to sleep

┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈

You woke up in a breezy morning with the most velvety blanket covered you

You haven't slept like this peacefully, you feel so relaxed than the rickety old bedframe that you had in your stables

You snap your eyes wide open when you realized where you are

"Calm down, lass"

You fastly sit up from the bed, he places his chalice aside as he sits down on the edge of the bed, a content smile on his face

"Sire-"

"You are welcome to stay here in my quarters, you can do everything that you wish" he says with the emphasis on the word as he held your hand caressing your knuckles with his thumb

He smiles again when he sees your wounds healing, the special ointment that he uses worked "Here, you should eat" he gives you the silver tray filled with variety of food

Before you protest, "I'll attend a meeting, I'll be back"

He left you with another complete unbelievable expression on your face

"This has got to be a dream"

┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈

A rapple knock through the door, startled you out of it, disturbing you with the book that you've been reading, but before you could reach the handle, the same soldier that has been stalking you came in with rage and lust on his eyes, you walk backwards as he closes the door

"You know just because Geta made you his servant doesn't mean I have no right to touch you"

"Please, don't do this-"

"You are not his whore, noblewoman" he chuckles with snarkiness, "you're not his wife"

Your heart cracks, your body begins to shake because of fear, you eye the door behind him, you find look everywhere to use as a weapon

You had no other choice to kick him in the weak spot making him fold in pain, he tries to tussle you and threw you in the bed but you slapped him making him angrier than before

When you ran towards the door, he trips you made you fall flat face down on the floor, you scream out for help as the fresh tears roll down to your face as he drags your feet across the room, he puts himself on top of you

He won't budge as he rips your clothes, you thought it will be the end for you

"Hey!" Geta sheathes his sword pointing at the predator who crawls back, he's like a deer caught in the headlights, you picked yourself up as you went behind Geta's back

Geta's piercing gaze is making the man skin goosebumps on its wake, he gulped hard as he begs for his life and for mercy

"How dare you to enter my abode and wickedly abused my lady?!?" He steps more further to him as you hide behind his back

His lady? What?!?

"I shall eat your heart out and feed you to the lions!" He shouts and raises his sword aiming for his neck

"Geta! No!"

You went over to his front, you have no idea the effect that you're giving him, you saw his gaze softens when it lands on you

He calms down when you weep and hug him instead, but still the fire in his eyes lingered over the man who is now getting arrested by General Acacius men

When the two of you are alone, he spoke, "Are you alright-"

"I'm gonna draw a bath for myself-" you whispered

He sighs as he lets you, the worry on his eyes are glued to your back

He shouldn't have left you all alone

You bring your knees close to your chest as you quietly sob

Geta kept pacing back and forth outside of the bathroom, he runs down his palm on his face

The knock terrifies you again, "Lass?" but your nerves eased when you recognize the voice

"May I come in?"

You thought about it for a while, but you could use some company after what just happened

"Yes"

He gets himself inside, the moonlight is making your skin glow, his heart thumps faster as he walks closer, he felt bad

"I'm so sorry-"

"It isn't your fault, your grace" you sniffle as you cut off the eye contact to him, you feel so ashamed of yourself

"You should've let me kill him-"

"Geta, with all due respect, I'm not yours to begin with"

That's where guilt flashes on his eyes and it's clear to his face, he swallowed the lump on his throat as he breathes deeply

"I knew the Empress, I already accepted way before that I have no place in your world, nobody can ever surpass your lady wife" you croak out the last part as you sniffle

You are wrong about that

"Even you're not mine, I don't like evil things tainted my palace"

You look up to him as he cradled your cheek as he runs his thumb, "Come to my chambers after you finish and wear this" he whispers as he places a white satin dress next to you

┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈

When you finally came back to his chambers, he swiftly turns around to look at you

The air from his lungs knock out as he places his hand on his chest

The contentment on his smile fades slightly when you don't match the one on his face, he can't read you

"What do you need me for?"

"I-I want you to stay here with me"

You scoff, it feels like your wasting your time here, "Geta, you can't just want me and act like this meant nothing!"

"I didn't say that-"

"You shower me with all this affection and lavished me with stuff that I didn't asked for and why do I feel like I'm being the one who filling that void in you?!?"

Oh, you hit the nerve on him

"Slow down with your words, lass"

"Tell me, Geta, what am I here for? what am I to you?"

He sighs and raggedly breathes as he huffs

"Don't push me-"

"Answer me!"

"I can't pursue you because I'm a monster!"

Your heart shatters when you heard his voice cracks, "Geta-"

"You're the only woman that has ever treated me fairly ever since my wife died when in reality anyone could've left me for dead"

You know what exactly he's talking about, the day you saved him from poisoning

"What are you trying to say?"

"I tried to resist but you making it hard for me not to, I-I thought I would never have this, you made me feel alive"

You come closer to him but he kept staying away from him, you plead your eyes to him but he avoids it

"You're too good to me, you don't even know how many times you crossed my mind everytime I'm out there making plans for Rome"

"Geta, you we're only doing what you have to do, I understand-"

"Dearie me, lass, spare me your sympathies, it's unfathomable how much I brought wreckage of Rome, do you know how the town loathes me?!?"

You reach to his face to hold both of his cheek, he gasps within the warmth of your touch

"I could never hate you, there's no fiber in me that despises you, I'm not afraid of you, Geta"

His eyes are glassy and when everywhere as he searches for uncertainty, there's nothing, you are so honest and sure with your words

"Will you spooked out if I do something?"

"No, Geta-"

He slams his lips against yours as you melt with it, both of yours lips together collided as one, he kisses you deeper as he grabs your waist closer to him, you let out a sweet soft moan as he growls when you bit his lips slightly

He grips both of your legs as he carries you smoothly as if you weigh nothing, you wrap your arms around his neck as he kisses you tenderly, your heart melts with his gentleness

He trails his kisses to the nape of your neck as his hands are under the hem of your dress, he breathes you in, he pull down the strap of your dress as you adjust yourself to remove it, your cheeks are flushed as you became shy under his gaze as he drinks you in

His eyes rake all over your body, your curves, your thighs, he takes his robe off quickly as he can, you giggle as he shoots you mischievous grin

"Your face and your body is like been carved by the gods" he breathlessly say as he carefully enters your sopping hole as you winced at the intrusion

The pain is overwhelming but as soon as the pleasure takes over you throw your head back into the cushions

"G-Geta-" you whine as he kisses your jaw, "I know, my love"

My love?, you audibly gasped at that but his moves goes faster and your roll backwards at the sensation forming up in your belly

He pumps in and out of your tight hole as the sinful sounds of body slamming echoed in the room, he kneads your breasts as he goes even more faster

He swallows your moans as he captures your lips again, he can't get enough of you, he wanted to absorb every inch of you

Your jaw falls slack when you grip beneath the sheets, he grips your hips so hard, your nails dig to his back as you scratch it earning a groan from him

You feel completely boneless as he pulls you to him, you shriek at the angle that he could reach inside of you, he opens your legs wider as he helps you to bottom in and out as you sunk down on him, you mewl and writhe as he sucks on your skin finding your sweet spot as you squeal, licking the marks that he made on you with the flat of his tongue

Your legs tremble as your toes curl when you roll your hips to him as he matches your movements, you grind him fast, he praises how he feels so good inside of your velvety walls as you clench around him

You moan loudly when he brings you back to the bed as he start pounding on you, your eyes almost drop to its sockets, when you tried to use your elbows to raise yourself but can't do it anymore as you feel absolutely in the haze, blissfully euphoric in the moment

He brings you over the edge as he stays in the crook of your neck as he continues ruthlessly goes back and forth deliciously coating his member with your juices

You scream as you came undone as you blackout from the orgasm, he kisses every part of your skin leaving no part missed, he breathes out with a lazily smile and when he notices you're not responding, he gently pats your cheek

"Darling?"

That's the first time that he has ever referred you

You hum in response but a pleased smile is now sitting on your lips, your eyes are half way closed, the vision is still blurry and your legs are definitely going to sore first thing in the morning but you don't care, this is fulfilling to you

He sighs in relief, "Are you well?" He says as slowly pulls himself out, you whimper at the emptiness as he devilishly chuckles

"I am, I just need to come back down to earth"

Bells of laughter bursted out from his mouth as you smiled widely at the sound of it

When he calms down, he takes care of you, both of you are still naked under the sheets as he pulls you to his side to wrap his arms around you, he rests your head over his arm as he scooped you closer to him as you sigh in comfort

"Goodnight, my love"

┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈

Your head is nestled to his neck so perfectly made just for you

You feel otherworldly happier

The sunrise hits your eyes as you squint on it, you look up to him, you saw how handsome he truly is, without his makeup during his killing time in the Colosseum

His ginger hair is so unruly but you loved it so much, you smile to yourself

You can't stop yourself as you place a kiss to his lips making his face scrunch as he finally registers what's happening

He smirks, "Well, morning, lass" This time kisses you properly earning a giggle from you

"Morning, my emperor"

His eyes sparkle when you said that, "My emperor, I like it"

Both of you are mirroring each other, smiling so big that it making your cheeks hurt but you didn't mind it

It looks like he is back again, you knew it, you knew it all along

His face became slowly serious as he takes your hand closer to his chest as he peppered it with kisses

"Lass?"

"Hm?"

"I want you to be my-"

"Your eminence? someone here wants to see you"

He rolls his eyes as your smile never faded as you look at the door behind him

"My sweet-"

"You can tell me it later, Geta" you held his cheek as you made a quick peck to his lips

He pouts but he has to stand up and get dressed as you sit up to watch him

Love

Love is so above in the air, both of your heartbeats the same thing

When he looks decent, he's about to leave but he run towards you to give you a big kiss as you squeal as you shove him in the chest as he laughed

He finally lets you go, he walks backwards as he bite his bottom lip

He turns around opens the door and gave you one last look with a smile that you never ever expected to be directed at you

A smile that you never thought you will get to see it again

He gives himself a tight nod as he finally made his mind, he knows what to do with your relationship to him

┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈

"Acacius?"

"Yes, your liege?"

"You have my permission, you can visit your family"

His eyes are watery from the statement but Geta felt the happiness that rushes through him

"I sincerely thank you for accepting my request, your highness" he bows

When he gathered his things, Geta spoke again, he needed to say this to him

"Acacius?"

"Yes?"

"I-I know I'm not the exceptional Emperor but I must say that I am forever indebted to your loyalty, not one single General that stays longer than you, Acacius"

He chuckles heartily at that, "If I may be so bold, sire, can I tell you something?"

"Please do"

"Is she your lady?"

Geta blushes at that as he scratches the back of his neck, "Yes, she is"

"That young woman, my lord, your brother Caracalla, he....snatched her father's life away, she's no royalty but her parents scraped up to give her what they can do, to what they feel seems right for her, so, that's why she's so knowledgeable" he saids with a dismayed expression on his face

It felt like a punch to a gut

"I fear, you didn't know about that" Acacius realizes that Geta's mind is all over the place now

"I-I....good god.....she didn't addressed that to me"

"It's because she loves you so much that she protected you from your brother's schemes"

Geta sat down on his throne with a softened features on his eyes as Acacius made his way over to his side

"She chose kindness over hatred despite what your brother has done to her"

"I-"

He saw your figure hiding behind the pillar, his heart swells at the sight of you being so meek all of the sudden, Acacius followed Geta's eyes as he gestures to welcome you

You shyly came out, "I didn't mean any harm-"

"Tell me, lass, how does my Empress sound?"

Acacius purses his lips as he tries to hide his knowing smirk as he held his hands behind his back

Your mouth slowly drops as you tilt your head at him as you dart your eyes back and forth to him and Acacius, Geta wished you knew how breathtaking you look, you radiating everything that he has ever needed in his life, your eyes screams joy, your lips curled into a sweet smile, you see in his eyes that he wholeheartedly wanted this, and you couldn't convey how elevated you are

But before you could answer, you saw someone aiming an arrow at him, your eyes widen

When it strikes, you pushed Geta away catching the arrow yourself in the scene, he gasps as Acacius manages to dodge the second arrow, he hollers at his troops to capture the man, it's the same man who terrorized you, the voices are blurred to him now, he felt his world crumbled when he saw you laying on the marbled floor with a staggering breath, you feel lightheaded, your blood seeps through your white dress, he drop to his knees as he daintly pulls you to him as he cradles your neck

"Oh, god, no" he didn't even realized that he's crying as you felt the tears falling through your cheek

"Geta-" you choke in your own blood, Geta carries you in his arms as he shushes you, he's making sure that he's not hitting your injured area as he curses at himself

"D-Don't beat yourself up, Geta"

"No, save your strength-"

"I'm sorry, Geta, I didn't wished for this to happen-" you sob as you grimace in pain

"What are you even apologizing for?"

"I didn't meant to replace your ladywife"

"Stop, don't talk like that" he pants as he calls for a healer to fix you

"Don't torture yourself, I don't want you to punish yourself-"

"I-I can't lose you!"

"Geta, don't cry-"

"I would rather be with you than be alone ruling Rome, I want you by my side!"

"I have adored you for eons, Geta" you sniffle as you flash him with a pained smile

"Y-You can't- I love you" Geta himself shocked by his own words as he tries

Your waterline starts to sting as you tried to hold back your tears, the faint tear rolls down to your cheek as he wipes it with his thumb

When he sees your eyes fluttering close, he wails, he panicked bad, really in pure anguish

"N-No-N-No, don't stay with me!"

┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈

He watches as your chest heaves weakily, bloodshot eyes as he can feel them swollen first thing in the morning when he wakes up

He stayed up late, he stayed beside you while you're fast asleep, your face has lost its color of how tender the arrow hit you closer to your chest, Geta has seen so many horrific scenarios all of his life but not like this, every maid and even General Acacius clamoring to save you, it's like the time stopped, it's like the God's cursing at him that he didn't deserve this

Happiness at last until it's not

It's a miracle, the healer says, that somehow it didn't hit a more fatal fracture around your chest, it will heal but surely it will leave a mark on your skin and the process will be longer at how deep the arrow went through you

"What's the point" Geta mutters to himself as he takes a glance at you

"What's the purpose of me living and ruling this empire with Rome around me when I have no one" he punctuates every word with indignant tone as he stood up and puff as he paces across the room

"I have nothing without my lady" he took a look at the sky as if he's talking to the God's

"Me, an bloodthirsty Emperor who is inhumane to his people, I know, what I've done, I will take that regret to my grave, it's unforgivable, the shadow of it will forever follow me, but this?" He points to you and looked back at the sky again said with tears on his eyes, irked but filled with desperation and misery

"I-I was blinded by my sorrow and wrath, I cursed the whole town and blamed the world for the death of my late wife" his voice cracks on every word as he runs a shaky hand over his hair

He looks back at you again and he can't help but breakdown and cry once more

He shakes his head furiously as he gives a pointed look at the sky

"I won't let you take her, you can't take her away from me, not this one, no, I won't allow it, not ever!" He shouts out loud as his voice echoed, he breathes heavily as he squeezes his eyes shut

"Let me have her, please, let me keep her" he pleas as he stare into nowhere

When he hears a faint voice coming from inside, he gets back up to his feet, he did a double take, if he heard it right, when he does he sprinted back to you

He sees you holding out your hand as he happily cries to see you awake, you've slept for so long when it all happened in one day

"M-My darling-"

"Geta, y-you're not blaming yourself, are you?"

"N-No, it doesn't matter anymore"

When you tried to move, you wince as he reminded you, you need to stay still for a while or else you'll bleed again

"Feeling any better?"

"Yes, I am, because you're here"

He sobbed as he kisses your hand as he held it close to his cheek, "Your goodness has never failed to make my heart flutter, my dear, I'm terribly sorry-"

"I love you too"

He stifle a gasp to your words, "You do?" with a hopeful gaze as you smile at him as you move the hair that is closer to his eye

"I do, and I accept your proposal"

He grins widely as he sniffle, you wipe the tears from his eyes, "Don't fret, my love, I'm here"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Of what?"

"That my brother killed your father?"

You blink rapidly suddenly growing nervous, "I-I don't want you and your brother to argue, I know the both of you wanted to rip off with each other's bones but he is still your brother "

He nods softly, "It will take me time to forgive him then"

"That's all I ever wanted for you, Geta"

"Merciful?" He jokingly said as you amuse yourself

"Yes, but don't worry about that now, what matters is we have each other, I help you with every step of the way"

He tucks your hair behind your ear as he hold your cheek, "I am more prouder to stand before you because I know that you got me"

"Always?"

"Always"

He kisses you tenderly and gently, a kiss with a promise, tomorrow will be different, the phases of your life will change because

You're no longer a servant but a....

An Empress to an Emperor

┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈

☾ an : erm- I think I went overboard lol this was supposed to be a oneshot but it ended up to a longer oneshot fic lmao anyways I just wanted to be detailed and hopefully y'all enjoyed reading this, I got inspired because there's something about a mournful and snappy emperor but has a soft spot for someone that he didn't realized that he loved her! so yeah that's the gist hehe

☾ tags : @eirone-and-cheese @eddiesghxst @yourfavouritecitizen @princesssunderworld (without them pushing me to write this already, this fic wouldn't come to fruition, so, I highly thank you for supporting me! even I'm not that skilled writer, I'm just doing this for fun but still I appreciate your kindness! <3 🥺🫶🏻)