#i dunno man. it's............ mmmm

[cloysterbell]

i havent seen the last couple episodes of leverage but i saw your tag saying you dont like what they're doing to parker and im not sure yet how i feel about parker this season, but do you want to talk about what you're thinking?

So Flanderization is a trope where you take a multi-dimensional character and boil them down into one typically exaggerated element, usually for comedic relief purposes. At the end of S5, Parker was the Mastermind. She had undergone such bonkers character development, going from the weird loner who only cared about making a quick steal to becoming the only person to ever succeed in the White Rabbit because she understands. She talked what the hell's his name down from that ledge by talking to him about making a choice and seizing control of his life and not letting his past drag him down. She became someone who Nate, that shitlord bastard of a man (affectionate), was proud of, which is no easy feat.

Fast forward to Redemption where she's this like, ADHD scatterbrained parody of herself who only seems to care about vents and thievery. Yes, we get the occasional moment where old!Parker shines through like in The Date Night Job where she connects with that kid and the whole "we're both the Doctor" moment with Hardison, but those seem pretty few and far between, mostly because she also feels pretty absent this season? I know Beth directed an episode or two but she's barely in half the episodes and when she IS there, she feels almost like... comic relief, which is not what Parker is.

In OG Leverage, they had the running bit where you never see Parker enter or leave a room which the continue in Redemption, but instead of having Parker just sitting on a counter eating cereal or something benign, just always being there without ever showing up, they always seem to have her pop in with this crazed look in her eyes. It's little stuff like that, where it's never casual but instead it's like they have to keep reminding you that she's weird and quirky.

I dunno, look, I'm pretty easy to please when it comes to TV and I'm very good about overlooking things I don't like and focusing on things I do, but I put a lot of eggs into Parker's basket during my watch of the OG series and something about this is rubbing me the wrong way. It just feels..... disrespectful, you know?

[you-see-something-strange-here]

If you think the team didn’t have a longterm bet going on about whether Roy and Jamie were fucking after Amsterdam, you’re wrong. Also, all bets were conducted with the Honorable Judge McAdoo presiding over them.

[hotluncheddie]

thinking about how eddies jeans would rip but it wouldn't be in like the modern distressed way. they would rip because he wears the same pair every day and has bony ass knees. they would rip like frank iero rips his jeans, straight across the knee from rolling around and being a little idiot.

[faineant-girl]

*going thru a page i know will piss me off* man that pisses me off

[solarpunkani]

Do you know if you’ll be able to make one of those free pantries around the city? Or like, bring people together to make a volunteer pantry?

I'll be honest, I have no idea.

I've lived in my city my whole life, but I'm also shy as hell. Working myself up to going door to door around my cul de sac and offering people tomatoes was an entire ordeal--and I had to have my dad with me to have even a modicum of confidence. (And he needed to hold two of the 3 bowls but still).

I also just. Don't know what all goes into setting up a little free pantry. I've seen some that are little wooden boxes like little free libraries are, and I've seen some that are a literal refrigerator. Which, I guess the refrigerated one would be able to hold more food, but also. Energy costs? Then there's the additional factor of 'where is this thing going to be hosted?' Because I know for damn sure that my parents aren't going to want it near the house, and the house at the end of the street literally has 'no tresspassing no solicitors we will call the cops or maybe grab a gun' signs in their yard. I could maybe see if a local library would be willing to host one--though that would, again, require I get the courage to. Go to a library. (I know, I'm just killing it in the solarpunk and community outreach aspects of life. Can't even muster the willpower to sit in a library.)

If I were in the more artsy part of the city (where the little free library is already set up), or maybe by the beach (where there is a food pantry that I don't think is tied to a church, but its a 40+ minute drive there), then a volunteer effort could maybe have some ground. But the part of the city I'm in... I dunno, I just don't get that vibe.

Maybe someday I'll muster the courage to like. Make some kind of ripple effect. but right now I am the equivalent of a scared little kid who still has to hold daddy's hand to ring a doorbell and reverse trick or treat the next door neighbors who've been there almost as long as I've been alive.

[ronispadez]

The fandoms in my brain are mixing into a neat soup. Anyway do you think Ray Toro ever played Earthbound

[tonycries]

Whiskey, Neat, With a Side of You - T.F.

Synopsis. When your date stands you up, you’re lucky that the hot bartender is more than happy to keep you company! 

Pairing. Bartender! Toji Fushiguro x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, strangers to lovers, unprotected, pússydrunk Toji, cúmplay, oral (female + male receiving), créampie, some heinous things with pantíes, dirty talk, spitting, whískey, neither are drunk, absolutely filthy, pet names (doll), swearing.

Word count. 4.6k

A/N. Was originally gonna be Nanami but Toji mmmm

“So, that date of yours is late, huh?”

You don’t know what shocks you more - the question, or the voice from behind the counter - so very deep, tinged with just a bit of amusement.

Tearing your eyes away from the clock at the other end of the bar, it takes a second - and one look around the almost-empty room - for you to realize that shit the hot bartender was talking to you. Sputtering out a quick, “Oh, yes, um-” quickly reading that faded nametag, “-Toji. He’s a bit late.”

The man in front of you raises a brow, dark green eyes locked on the way you shift in your seat. He seemed a bit older, and - you gulp, eyeing the way his arms flex as he fumbles with the shaker - so undeniably attractive. Plowing on obliviously, “Boyfriend?”  

You sigh, pinching your nose, “No, some guy from a dating app. It’s supposed to be our first date.” 

“First date?” Toji lets out a low whistle. “Way to make an impression, dunno what type of asshat would keep a pretty lil’ thing like you waiting.”

Cheeks flaring, you don’t know what it is about him that makes you want to defend yourself, but it doesn’t matter anyway - because whatever rambled excuse gets stuck in your throat at the sharp scrape of glass against the counter. Large hands gently placing a pretty pink daiquiri in front of you, Toji gives you a reassuring nod. “S’on the house till that dumbass shows up. Until then, you can keep me company, doll.”

Playing with the straw between your fingers, your eyes flit to the clock again - 8:10pm.

Well, there was still time. Right? 

Nonsense, maybe.

Because it’s around 10:21pm when you conclude that no, there really wasn’t still time, and your date seemed well and fully intent on completely embarrassing you. And now, him still nowhere in sight, lips a bit looser, you were having the time of your life complaining all about it to Toji.

“-no, I swear.” you groan over his low chuckle. “He really gave me the ‘sorry, my dog ate my keys’ gem. And you know the best part?” Beckoning him over to whisper conspiratorially in his ear - heart stuttering at the heat of his proximity, “The man doesn’t even own a dog.”

Shaking his head, Toji seemed like he was drinking in your every word. “Classic. If yer gonna be late, at least make it interesting. Like, ‘I accidentally joined the circus on the way here.’”

“Mhm, I’ll have to keep that in mind for my next no-show date.” you grin, suddenly feeling a lot lighter than you were a few hours ago. Nowhere near tipsy, but definitely high off the conversation and the addictive scent of his cologne - the expensive kind that left you wondering whether all of him smelled this delicious. 

“Or better yet, you could spend your time with someone who actually knows how to keep you entertained rather than some scrub.”

Snapping out of your little reverie, lifting your head just fast enough to catch the little smirk tugging Toji’s lips. Managing to grit out, “Smooth, huh?”

“Just sayin’.” he hums, before turning his back to organize the glasses on the shelf. And you can’t help but traitorously admire his broad shoulders, cursing that t-shirt for being so goddamn tight that you could see the way his muscles ripple with each movement. 

“Besides-” Catching the tail-end of Toji’s question, “-neat whiskey for all the failed dates?”

You chuckle, “Ah, I really shouldn’t, the other customers will probably-” your sentence dies in your throat as a quick glance at the empty room showed that everyone else had eventually left - leaving just you. And Toji. Damn. Slow day, huh?

“Well, doll?”

Heaving out a shaky breath, you nod. Eyes zoning in on the way he expertly handles the glasses, so dizzyingly inviting. It makes a sheepish smile play at your lips, letting out a quiet little, “Despite all the shitty dates, I’ve actually never had whiskey neat before.”

Oh? That made him pause. Eyes widening ever-so-slightly as he sets down the glasses and leans in a little closer, breath hot against your face. “Never?”

“Never.”

“Well.” Toji muses. “This overpriced shit can’t be your first intro to neat whiskey. If you’re up for it, I’ve got a special 1926 Macallan stashed away in the back n’ can get it for us?”

Oh. Maybe it was that slow, silent grin that curls his lips, that sinful little scar moving as he does. Or maybe it was the way he places a hand on the counter to stare down so heavily at you. Probably it was just him - because you find yourself batting your lashes so deceivingly innocently, “Or I could just go with you?”

And shit if there was ever a time where Toji was sure he met his match then it might just be right now. Because that sultry lil’ smirk on your lips was killing him, making such a carnal little part of him twitch so dangerously. With a heavy nod, you’re following him through the dimly lit bar.

The back room is more of a VIP room than anything - cozy, lined with shelves of alcohol and leather furniture. Heady with the liquor and something so so Toji. 

You’re halfway through reading the title of a wine you could barely pronounce before he’s letting out a grunt of satisfaction from behind you, “Excuse me, doll.” It’s all that’s said before Toji’s pressing up against you. His muscular arm just inches from your head, reaching for something from the very top shelf. And oh you could feel his abs rubbing up against your back, so warm and- 

And then he’s pulling away. 

It was quite hard to stomp down the disappointed whine that almost leaves your throat, and if you didn’t know any better you’d have said something about the amused little glint in his eyes. Smug bastard knew what he was doing. 

Instead focusing on the way he turns to show off a bottle with a deceivingly innocent reverence. “This is going to be a real treat.”

Well. Two can play that game.

“Is that so?” you tilt your head, reaching out to grab the bottle neck, with not as much care of concern as you should have considering this was a million dollar whiskey. Swiftly unclasping the lid, focused only on the way Toji’s breath hitches as you fist his t-shirt in your other hand to pull him close to you - so close.

Close enough that you could count every shade of green in those half-lidded eyes, long lashes fluttering as your breath fans his face. “Such a shame we didn’t bring our glasses, huh?”

Oh the devilish grin that splits across his face sends such delicious shivers down your spine - Toji gets your drift. Of course, he does. Because he’s squishing your cheeks together in an almost-embarrassing pout, fingers searing on your skin, lips ghosting yours, “Yeah, real shame.” 

Immediately bringing the bottle to his mouth, letting the burning liquid pool on his tongue, he spits into your mouth, once. Twice. 

A steady stream of whiskey, and spit. It tasted just like the acrid alcohol and sin. And Toji. 

And it was so messy, smearing across your lips and trickling down your chin. Tilting your head back, you let it flow down your throat obscenely. Locked in his greedy gaze as you loll your tongue out to show off the way you’d swallowed everything he gave. 

“Maybe I do like neat whiskey.”

And then he’s kissing you - and you’re kissing him because fuck Toji was intoxicating and just there. That little scar rubbing against your lips as he devours you so sloppily, all hard muscles and heated skin underneath your fingertips. 

“Fuck.” he hisses into your open mouth. Setting down the whiskey God-knows-where near the couch to pick you up like a ragdoll. Drinking in the cute lil’ gasp that leaves you as you wrap your legs around his slutty waist. Groping and kneading every inch of skin he could reach. “How ya likin’ the Macallan, doll?”

“A ‘real treat’.” you mimic his earlier words, voice slightly broken as you feel his rock-hard cock through your wet panties, throbbing angrily against your cunt. Fuck, would you even be able to take him all?

“Oh yeah?”

And before you can react you’re being pushed against the hard wall. Toji’s lips dizzying on yours, fiddling with that godforsaken clasp on the back of your tight dress. 

“Shit.” he groans impatiently, wedging a knee between your legs, grinding against your wet pussy. “Such a delicious meal all f’me but I’ve gotta get through this- fuckin-” rip! “-dress”

Well, you expected your dress to end up on the floor somewhere, just not like this - tattered and hitting the ground of this back room behind the bar, faster than your jaw. And so do Toji’s - pupils blown, eyes hooded as he takes in the heavenly view in front of him. 

Pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, licking like he couldn’t stay away. “Shit, doll. You were gonna wear this pretty lil’ number for that loser?” he sounds genuinely confused. Immediately tweaking and rolling your swollen nipples through the sheer fabric. “M’so fucking glad that bastard doesn’t know what he’s missing out on.”

“T-Toji- ngh-” you mewl, as he lets your bra fall to the ground. Taking in one tit in his mouth, swirling his hot tongue around your areola. “Wan- wan’ more-”

“Now now,” he tuts mockingly, delicate strings of spit connecting him to your breasts. “S’rude to be the only one drinking. Unless…” Toji looks up at you through his thick lashes, “You wan’ me to drink in that pretty lil’ cunt of yours?”

And shit that sounded like everything you ever wanted right now. All you can let out is a delirious little nod before Toji’s dropping to his knees. So hard you wonder if it hurts - and maybe it’s the liquor, probably it’s the way he’s drunk off you - but he doesn’t give a fuck. 

“Yeah, atta girl.”

Pulling down your panties in one, fluid motion, he tugs them underneath your legs, disappearing between his own, fumbling with his waistband. And if you angled your head just right you could see the slightest glimpse of Toji fisting his cock. Soaking your already-wet panties with his precum.

“Aw, look at the way she’s so wet f’me already.” he coos at your dripping cunt. Absolutely obsessed with the way you’re so drenched for him already. Slick beading through the flimsy fabric at each hot breath, oh Toji has half the mind to just take you right here, right now. But no, he wanted- needed a taste. Doesn’t think he could live without it. “Wonder if she tastes just as sweet as she looks.”

Whatever retort on the tip of your tongue is cut off by Toji burying himself face-first in your pussy. Licking a long, languid stripe up your swollen folds, pooling your slick on his tongue. 

But it wasn’t enough - it might never be. Because one taste of your pretty cunt and Toji is hooked. 

With a low groan, he’s spitting a steady stream of spit onto your quivering pussy. Spreading it with his thumb before he’s diving back in nose-deep. Snaking a hand down to draw frenzied little circles on your swollen clit, letting your juices glisten all down his wrist.

“Taste s’fuckin’ good. Fucking sweet.” So hot and maybe you should’ve gotten an inkling with how sloppy he was with the whiskey - but Toji was so fucking filthy. Your slick glossing his face so prettily, smearing right up to his nose and dribbling down his chin. Lewd little squelches deafening in your ears. 

“Ngh- Sh-shut up-”

“Shut up? Can’t shut up, doll, m’drunk on this sweet cunt more than I am on whiskey.” he mutters into your folds. “My favorite taste. Got me addicted, huh?”

He huffs out a dark laugh into your pussy, taking in that cute lil’ embarrassed expression on your face. Throwing one of your legs over his sculpted shoulder, Toji bullies his soft tongue into your snug cunt, past that delicious little ring of resistance. 

Making out with your pussy deeper. And his tongue was so long - perfectly hitting your sweet spots, licking all over your plushy walls. Thrusting in time with his thumb drawing on your clit, in and out in and out in and-

“Fuck, I could get used to this. Have you for breakfast, lunch, n’ dinner.”

His words were so dirty, but Toji looked so pretty stuffing his face in your cunt. Eyes rolling to the back of his head, dark strands of his hair sticking to his forehead. Tilting his head just so that your sweet sweet juices slide down his throat. 

It’s what has you tugging in his hair to angle him just right, using him like your favorite toy. Such cute lil’ whines of his name leaving you each time his tongue grazes that one spot that has you keening and bucking into his mouth for more more more-

“Fuck fuck fuck jus’ like that- Ah!” you let out such pretty whines, words slurring together. Delirious little ones that go straight to Toji’s achingly hard cock, angry and twitching in his fist. So needy and glistening with precum in the dim lighting.

Shit, Toji thinks he could cum at just that, which is why he’s lapping at your cunt even greedier, drinking you in like a madman. Fingers so deftly toying with your pretty clit, making you putty in his hands. He has to make you cum. Now. Or else he’s gonna fuckin’ embarrass himself in front of such a goddess. 

“Oh? So drunk on m’tongue, already, doll?” he chuckles. “Can’t speak?” Vibrations sending white-hot jolts of pleasure up your spine. It has you dragging your cunt so sloppily all over Toji’s face - and he likes it. Loves it even, only speeding up his movements. Even when his jaw is aching, walls sucking him up so desperately that it was almost difficult to eat out your pretty lil’ cunt. Even when your sweet juices are dripping down to the hardwood floor in a sinful little drip! drip! drip! 

“I- ngh- m’gonna-”

“Gonna what? You can handle whiskey, you can handle using your words, doll.”

“Cum!” you yelp, “M’gonna cum Toji- ah- feels t’good.” 

And that’s exactly what he liked to hear because Toji only gets sloppier. Alternating between stretching you out on his tongue, sucking on your clit, licking everywhere. Over and over-

“Then cum f’me, doll.”

And you are - fast and hard. So hard that you don’t even realize when you’re rocking your hips all over Toji’s face. Cunt fluttering around his tongue as if you were trying to suck him up - and he lets you. 

“Fuck. Sweeter than I imagined.” he’s slurring into your cunt. “Jus’ like that- yeah, ride out that pretty lil’ cunt on m’face.” Words muffled as he tonguefucks you through your high, stars behind your lids every time he flicks at your pussy. 

Distantly, you hear such embarrassing little whimpers of his name in time with the sinfully wet groans from below - ones you realize are yours only when you’re blinking back your vision. Heart thundering, pathetically trying to catch your breath.

The first thing you hear is Toji’s little chuckle, followed closely by a lewd pop! that has you whirling to look at him down below.

“Wh-wha-” and all you can let out is a strangled little oh! at the sight before you - Toji licking his fingers clean, sucking all your sweet juices like he couldn’t get enough. Even when he’s flashing you a devilish grin around his fingers, rising from his position on the ground to cage you against the wall.

“Told ya m’addicted, doll.”

Your back hits the soft leather before you even realize what’s happening. Bouncing at the sheer force of the throw, you gasp in both shock and at the audacity of this man.

“Toji…” you warn as he looms over you on the couch, yet it comes out more breathless than you intended. But looking at him there - straddling your hips, pants pulled just below his heavy balls, tugging and teasing his rock-hard cock like he was trying to fuck something delicious out of it - how could you be blamed, really?

He was so big. Pulsing wildly in his fist and just soaked in precum - all the way from his pretty pink tip to the tufts of black at his base. Not quite wild, not quite tamed. You cunt clenches in- anticipation? Fear of not being able to walk for the next week?

And in the haze of your orgasm it takes you a second to register the flimsy panties wrapped around his hand. Rubbing against those prominent veins on the side as Toji fucks his fist. So wet and ruined that you almost didn’t recognize it. 

“Jus’ think of it as repayment.” he grins, following your line of sight. 

You scoff, eyes still traitorously stuck on his throbbing cock. So massive and mouth-watering that it makes you wish he used you instead of those panties. “Those were expensive y’know.”

“I’ll buy you new ones. Four. In the color of my eyes.”

“How about…” you flash him a sultry smirk, urging his hips to shift higher. And by the amused quirk of his brow, you knew Toji liked where this was going.  “I can repay you another way.”

And before you knew it, his pants are thrown to God-knows-where, and you had two, muscled thighs straddling your face. Toji slaps his swollen cock on your face once. Twice. “Think that loser was this big?” Thumbing your mouth open as he grazes his weeping tip across your lips, glossing them so prettily. Precum salty on your tongue, all filthy and dripping down to your chin. 

“Open wide- Fuck. Tha’s it-” he hisses, brows furrowing as he stuffs his fat head into your hot mouth. Eyes rolling to the back of his head at the way your lips bulge around him, flicking at the sensitive tip. And it was so delicious, Toji couldn’t decide whether he liked eating you out or this more. 

“Shit, doll.” he grunts, hips fucking into your plushy tongue in shallow, quick little thrusts. “Taking me so well, huh?”

You didn’t know if you were - lips stretching obscenely around his thick cock, tears clinging to your lashes. Choking and gagging around his length in a way that made Toji twitch inside you. Shit, he liked this - liked seeing you like this. And as soon as the realization hits you, you’re moaning around his cock, making Toji’s hips stutter above you. 

Toji has to fight off that part of himself that just wants to paint your mouth a sinful white. Fuck his cum into your till it’s all you can taste - all you can feel. 

“Shit. You little minx. Ah- s’heavenly around me ngh-” pressing your head down till all the way till your nose is flush against his pelvis, balls twitching against your chin. Finally bottoming out and fucking your mouth in harsh, long strokes. “Fuck- Wonder if that pretty lil’ cunt of yours is gonna take me t-this well, huh?”

Oh does he love your smart mouth - but he loves it even more when all he gets in response is wet gurgle around his cock. Looking up at him so tearily and shit he could get used to this sight. “M’gonna take that as a yes.”

And then he’s speeding up, balls squeezing so painfully. God it’s so fucking hard to look at you too - precum and spit bubbling sloppily at the corners of your mouth, makeup so messy and fucking gorgeous to him. 

“Can feel m’self riiight-” Reaching out a hand to wrap around your throat, feeling his dick bulging in and out in and- “here.”

Moving faster so he can ruin your pretty face. It’s so sloppy the way your spit glistens down his length, using your swollen mouth as he pleases. And you’re so eager to make him lose his mind too that it has been fucking into you like a toy.

“Ya like this? Like me using your pretty lil’ mouth like oh- it’s a fucktoy? Oh fuck, doll.” he groans, running his mouth like he’s drunk off yours wrapped around him. “Gonna paint that pretty mouth of yours white if y’don’t stop now.” 

And shit if he knew those words would have you eagerly bobbing your head to meet his hips a little slut then he’d have said them a lot sooner. Trying to get just a taste of him. Mascara runny now, swirling your tongue around his leaking tip every time he hits the back of your throat, so hard that it’s probably sore and bruised. Toji almost feels bad. 

…

Nahhh

Pulling your mouth off him, muttering low and dangerous. “Told ya to stop now, didn’t I?”

And oh he hates to cut off that cute lil’ whine spilling from your kiss-bitten lips, but shit Toji’s losing his patience and his sanity with each passing second that he isn’t stuffing his cock in your pretty cunt. 

Toji backs up, swiping a thumb under your lip, sucking off the remnants of his precum before capturing your lips in a searing, searing kiss. Tasting you and himself and you- 

“Liked the Macallan, huh?” Reaching blindly for the bottle of whiskey, taking a deep swing. Spitting it back into your mouth because shit you looked so pretty swallowing it all up. Rutting his hips into yours, sliding his throbbing erection in between your swollen folds. Collecting your sweet juices on his head, drinking in your adorable gasps.

“T-Toji.” you whimper, hips bucking up wildly. “Just fuck me already, goddamnit.”

And then he is - pressing his fat tip into your sloppy hole. Inch by fucking inch. Not even thinking of easing into it because fuck he needs it. He needs it-

“-s’bad. Ah-” Toji drawls against your lips. “Wan’ed this ever since y’walked in through that damn door.” A mess of spit and alcohol and precum - it made you feel so dirty, dirtier than the pressure between your legs as he bullies his heavy cock into your snug pussy. And all you can do is fucking take it because Toji was so unrelenting.

Thrusting in shallow, mindless little thrusts to just fit himself inside you - and you already feel like you’re being stretched to your limits. Whimpering out a tearily little, “Are you at least ngh- halfway in yet? Oh-”

If Toji was any lesser man he’d just have split you apart on his cock right now, but no. Instead settling for a smug little, “Nope”, popping the p.

But that doesn’t stop him from wrapping two arms around your waist, sitting up on the couch with you splayed out so prettily on his cock. Pulling you, squeezing his dick into your soft cunt, sliding down, down, down.

“Ah! Ah- shit shit shit s’too deep, ngh-”

“No such thing as ‘too deep’, doll.” he clenches his jaw. Hands pushing your thighs apart even further as you’re split apart on his cock. “You jus’ hafta sit there all pretty n’ take- it-” Each word is punctuated by a harsh thrust. 

And Toji’s manhandling you around while bouncing you on his dick. Drawing unhurried little circles on your clit while trying to find that one spot he knows you’d love more than any whiskey or drink. Looping a strong arm to arch you into his body and-

“Fuck!” you keen, hips grinding sloppily to milk his cock as much as you could. Walls clenching so sinfully and shit-

“Found it.”

And then it was like something snapped - because all of a sudden Toji’s no more playful teasing and letting you have your little fun. No, he’s fucking you like a man possessed - thrusting his cock up into you. All the way from his weeping tip, till his balls smack your ass. So hard he’s sure they leave such a shameful mark for tomorrow. Hitting that spot over and over-

“Aren’t ya glad you chose to ah- s-stay with me?” he hisses, throwing his head back. One hand rocking your hips deeper the other becoming faster and faster on your poor, ravaged clit. Driving you crazy. “Fuck that date ditcher, y’look all pretty like this for me.”

“Yes yes yes- s’glad.” you manage to sob out. Voice shaky and hitching at the way he was bouncing you on his cock with reckless abandon. The lewd squelches and skin-on-skin filling the heady room, making your head spin so much that you barely hear Toji’s words. 

“I’d make a much better date. Hngh-” he lets out a guttural groan as your nails rake his back. Fingers on your clit becoming more and more frantic. “Would buy ya flowers n’ a-all that shit. Show up on time, all dressed up.” Drinking in your lewd little ah! ah! ah! every time he milks himself on your sloppy pussy. But oh maybe Toji was a talker when he was drunk because he wasn’t done yet. 

“Make all those other scrubs fuck- jealous. And then-” Hips stuttering and so so sloppy. “Hah- at night- m’gonna fuck you dumb just like this.” he gasps, sounding like he was at the end of his sanity. Losing it bit by bit every time his veins rub so deliciously against all the right spots that make you see stars. 

Losing his sanity especially when you whine out such a cute lil’ noise of agreement. “Fuck m’close. Wanted this too, huh? I saw the way you’d been eyeing me all night.”

You can’t even be embarrassed about being caught red-handed, only looking up at his pretty face with delirious heart-eyes. Too cockdrunk and delirious at this point. And, well, maybe it’s the alcohol in your veins because you’re grabbing at the shiny bottle on the seat, bringing it to your lips. The bitter taste barely hitting your lips before you’re meeting his. Making out as sloppily as he was ravaging you below - all teeth and whiskey and pure filth. 

And that answers his question. 

Messy and desperate. 

So it only makes sense that your orgasm was the same - clamping down so sinfully on his aching cock. And shit it’s so heavenly that it sends him over the edge as well. 

Toji cums, and keeps cumming so hard that he can see the way his seed was gushing out of your poor, overfilled pussy. Especially not when his thrusts get sloppy, thick cum spilling all over your pretty cunt. Purposely not pulling out like the mean bastard he is to paint your walls a sinful white

Over and over, forming a wet little patch on the couch that he knows he’ll have to worry about later. But right now he doesn’t give a fuck because your bloated and so prettily all covered in his seed. 

Leisurely, he pools the cum trickling out of your cunt on his fingertips, not even wasting a second before stuffing them in your mouth, pushing through your swollen lips. And you don’t complain - not at all. In fact, you’re sucking it all up eagerly. Looking Toji straight in the eyes while you swallow it all. 

“Hmm, not as good as the whiskey.” you tease. Letting yourself be yanked into his body, as he grins against your lips.

“For that, m’keeping the panties.” 

--- 

“Toji…” a low voice rings through the closed bar. Shiu sounding like he’s absolutely at his wit’s end as he continues, “Where the fuck is our 1926 Macallan?”

The man in question was staring suspiciously giddily at his phone - either having not heard what Shiu said, or he just couldn’t give a fuck anyway. And knowing Toji, it was probably the latter. 

A warning. “Toji I’m serious, that shit costs over a million dollars.”

“Yeah yeah, congratulations or my condolences but hey, do you know any great flower shops?”

A/N. I don’t even like whiskey so much, it’s just the thought of bartender! Toji that has me feral.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[fizzy-blood]

Toby NSFW hcs? 🧍😈

Ticci Toby X Reader/'S/O' Headcanons🪓🔥 [NSFW]

RAHHH I know my pookie wookie Linus is gonna eat this shit up- also, thanks for the ask! Also the 122 followers? How the fuck? Idk man... Anyways, hope you enjoy!

WARNING: NSFW/18+ CONTENT [Hatchet fucking, puppy sub, hair pulling, mentions of Toby trying to give himself a dick piercing, praise kink]

Mmmm.... Him... Toby would be so silly...

So... So silly

Well... I know for a fact that he's a switch!

Top or bottom.. He doesn't care as long as he's getting positive attention from it!

In other words... Please don't try to degrade him, he hates it... 😞

But what he does love is having your full attention

He'll look at you with the biggest, most autistic ass eyes on the planet while he pounds into you...

But don't expect him to be able to do that if you're pounding into him... Absolute whimpering mess

Anyways... Dick description time!!🤩 🥳

So... It's about 6 and a half inches and not super girthy.. But Toby's kinda lanky so... It's very fitting...

He did try to pierce it in a couple different spots but it didn't work... So now he just has a couple random scares all over is dick... Ouch

And he doesn't really shave or anything... And I doubt he actually ever tried too...

But he would if you asked... Probably... I dunno if he would actually-

Either way, that thing is fucked up-

And he's also very inexperienced

It's kinda sad

But please be patient with him and show him what to do!

Again, he doesn't really care if he's top or bottom... And he'll try to be more dominant if you tell/ask him to be... But again, he'll probably just end up a whimpering mess

Now for kinks! Yippee!

Two words. Hatchet Fucking.

I actually did write about this in my first Toby fic!

But for those of you who don't understand what that means, it means he'll fuck you with the handle of his hatchet or hatches... Woagh

It will hurt the first few times... But I'm 90% the person reading this has a pain kink... As well as like... Most of this godforsaken fandom...

But other than that I feel like he'd have a praise kink

Both giving praise and receiving it

Especially if you call him a good boy (not self projecting... Idk what ur talking about...)

But call him that and he'll be on his knees for you

To be honest... I feel like he'd be really into the whole "puppy boy/puppy sub" thing

So get him a collar and leash

He'll love it. Trust me.

And he's also into hair pulling

He can't really feel pain so he likes having you take control like that

It's just nice to him <3

Overall a very silly guy who has almost no idea what he's doing... He just wants to be loved I swear!

(This wasn't me self projecting I dunno what ur talking about 😒)

BOOM. DONE. I FEEL SO AWESOME RN 🤩. I hope you enjoyed it! I love writing for Toby and EJ so... I'll take any excuse to write about either of them! Again, asks are open so feel free to pop in there and send me requests!

(Hatchet and Lighter dividers by @sister-lucifer )

[spookypete-94]

NSFW Task Force 141 smut thoughts/brain rot below

I had a night with my husband that led to a conversation that I felt was relatable and now I can't stop myself from the little thoughts below.

Thinking about a night out with 141, and a surprising twist in conversation letting them know that it's hard for you to come.

TW for language.

Not even sure how the conversation got to you from the four men that were talking amongst themselves on a night out, but it for sure had.

"I dunno," you muttered out. Four sets of eyes on you making you look down at your glass in embarrassment. "Just hard sometimes. Can't every time, but that doesn't mean I don't enjoy it. Something wrong with me I guess."

At the end of the night they had all formed a wordless pact or bet depending how you looked at it. Planning on showing you that indeed there is nothing wrong with you, just how the last "boys" had fucked you.

Price

Takes the longest to make you come. Not because he sees it as a race, but this man makes love to you. He takes his time to worship you, foreplay his entire forte. In reality, he almost edges you, showing you you can indeed get close, only to take it away. The prize? The hardest shake and squeeze your body ever gives, making you feel like you're going to go blind from coming so hard.

"Mmmm, look at that. Nothin' wrong with you, just didn't have partners that knew what to do with ya'." He'd grumble over top of you, beard and rumbling voice in your ear.

Ghost

Is the man that gives you the most orgasms. He is relentless in what he gives you. Whether from eating you out for what feels like and probably is hours, legs forced and pinned up and locked on his shoulders. Shaking like a new born deer, only to be rolled over and forced onto your knees and head pile drived into the mattress. Your pleas and begs are often ignored. What was Ghost's initiative? To shut those down and turn them in the moans and cries. Hard to reach your peaks? Then he better spend his time giving you as much as he can. No better man with the stamina to do it either.

"Calm down dove, go' one more in ya'. Know you do." Voice patronizing and getting you closer again. Knees are forced up to your chest, making your breathing shallow. "Just needed someone who could go longer, didn't ya? Just needed ta ask was all, poor girl."

Soap

He is the one to make you finish the quickest no doubt. Eager to please, he finds what you like with speed. Bending you into the position and fucking you until you come. Like the true soldier he is, hears what the problem is and wants to find the solution to it. He listens to your moans, knowing that's what you like best and puts your body into it. Instantly knows what your body wants, and gives it to you. The only downfall? The image and sound of you coming around him so quickly, makes him as well.

"Sorry lass, give me a minute and I'll be ready to go again." He said stroking himself, already half erect. "Just nice knowin' I'm givin' ya sumthin ya never really had is all. Give me a min', and I'll do it again."

Gaz

Probably the best fuck out of the four. He had the stamina of Ghost, the love making of Price, and the intent and eagerness of Soap.

Willing to go for as long as you wanted, but listened to what you wanted. Wanted some hard back shots for awhile? No worries he's got you. Need your hair pulled to turn your brain off for a bit? He's your man. Sure he was large, but kept the weight off of you to keep your lungs full of air. Letting you go for as long as you want and come as many times as he could get you there.

"Not so hard is it? Just needed the better man was all." His hands holding your hips in the position you asked. Head in the mattress and back arched up with legs on his shoulders. Rocking back and forth with you, helping you get closer once again.

"Atta' girl." He groans as you squeeze him tightly on your umpteenth orgasm.

Task Force 141 Masterlist

[cosmerelists]

Cosmere Characters Meet Non-Cosmere Sanderson Characters

As requested by anon. :)

Namely, Sanderson characters from non-Cosmere works I've actually read, aka Skyward and Frugal Wizard.

1. Ryan Chu (Frugal Wizard) and Amaram (Stormlight)

Ryan: What DOES Sanderson have against handsome, highly competent people? Amaram: I don't know. He just hates us. Ryan: Are we too good at our jobs? Amaram: Are we too handsome? Ryan: Too good with the ladies? Amaram: Too effective in battle? Ryan: Is it that we maybe slightly screw over his precious main character while working on something greater? Amaram: He's SUCH an unforgiving author.

2. Jorgen & Spensa (Skyward) and Vin & Elend (Mistborn)

Vin (narrowing her eyes at Jorgen): You look like a man from a highly wealthy, politically influential background who has a strained relationship with his father, especially after you fall in love with a badass, combative woman from the "wrong" side of society who has special powers needed to save the day. Spensa (narrowing her eyes at Vin): And I'm getting the sense that you had to fight really hard for everything in your life but never gave up, and that you didn't like your man initially because he seemed wealthy and stuck up but eventually you realized that he matched your freak pretty exactly. Jorgen: Oh wow, we definitely need to set up a double date! Elend: Did we just become best friends?

3. Cobb (Skyward) and Harmony (Mistborn)

Cobb: ...and it's honestly horrible, constantly loading children into that munitions chamber to be spent into empty shells. Harmony: I know what you mean. Every time I cannot act, I have to call upon Wax to be my gun once again. Cobb: And then they go out... Harmony: And then he goes out... Cobb: And they die! Harmony: And he kills tons of people! Cobb: ... Harmony: ... Cobb: I think you got your metaphor backwards there, friend. Harmony: I think it's you.

4. John (Frugal Wizard) and Painter (Yumi)

John: [holds out his hand for a fist bump] John: Fellow loser protagonist? My man. Painter: I-I'M NOT FIST BUMPING TO THAT

5. Kimmalyn (Skyward) and Adolin (Stormlight)

Adolin: It can be tough to be the most emotionally intelligent person in the cast, huh? Kimmalyn: Tough? I dunno about that! I like being able to help my friends! Adolin: I mean, me too! Adolin: But we're both so friendly and mostly upbeat that I think people sometimes forget we have our own problems. Kimmalyn: Yeah...I missed some shots that haunted me for a long time... Adolin: And I stabbed a guy through the eye in an alley. Kimmalyn: Well, bless your stars!

6. Sefawynn (Frugal Wizard) and Demoux (Mistborn/Stormlight)

Demoux: Off-worlders giving you a hard time? Sefawynn: I'm sorry? Demoux: People from other worlds? Coming to your planet and messing everything up? Sound familiar? Sefawynn: My husband is from another world. Sefawynn: I would not say that he "messed things up." He helped save us. Demoux: [Crumping up a Seventeenth Shard pamphlet in frustration] How great for you.

7. Spensa (Skyward) and Jasnah (Stormlight Archive)

Jasnah: So these "Cytonic" abilities of yours give you access to the "Nowhere." Spensa: That's right. Why? Jasnah: Which is some kind of extra-dimensional space that exists alongside your "normal" space where time is strange and timeless creatures exist? Spensa: The Delvers, yeah. Jasnah: You are basically a sci-fi Eslecaller. Spensa: ... Spensa: A what?

8. M-Bot (Skyward) and Nightblood (Warbreaker/Stormlight)

M-Bot: Hiiii! Nightblood: Hello!!! M-Bot: I can already tell that you're a kindred spirit. Nightblood: Yeah!! M-Bot: Do you want to read my ongoing work "The Greater Argument for Human Origination Chaos" (GAFHOC)? Nightblood: Well I don't think I can read, but you can tell me about? M-Bot: My main thesis is that "humans are weird." Nightblood: ...And evil? M-Bot: No, gotta go with "weird." Weird creatures, humans. Nice. Squishy sometimes. But weird. Nightblood: Mmmm...I think you're missing the "evil" part. Nightblood: I was created to destroy evil, you know! M-Bot: I was created to document mushrooms! Maybe! Nightblood: Does the "M" stand for Mushrooms? M-Bot: Yes! Or possibly "massacre" according to Spensa. Nightblood: Ooooh, I like "massacre." Massacre is cooler than mushrooms! M-Bot: Uh, you haven't seen my very cool mushrooms. Nightblood: Well, let's see them. M-Bot: I love having a friend!

[spiralinghours]

“Personal Assistant”

Fandom: Saw franchise

Characters/Pairings: Mark Hoffman x reader (fem/afab)

Rating: R (18+ only!)

Tags: finger fucking, thigh grinding, daddy kink, older man x younger woman, inappropriate boss x secretary dynamics, mild cum tasting, dadbod/chubby physique appreciation

Summary: Typical afternoon being Detective Hoffman’s tarty little secretary

Author’s notes: Written purely for self-indulgent reasons. Idk.

“Sweetheart, if you’re gonna stay there you gotta gimme a little more room to move around. I don’t wanna elbow you.” The “very broad and thick” (as you mockingly but sincerely titled him) Detective Hoffman shifted you around on his lap, pulling you by the hips like a doll. You noted how much his legs spread out on his meager rolling chair, not only to accommodate for your snug presence, but to allow for comfort for the girth of his thighs and torso.

“As if you’re not the one who sat me here in the first place. What if I just got up? Wouldn’t you just hate that?” you tutted, making the slightest motion to get up.

He yanked you back down by the waist. “No, no, I didn’t fucking mean like that. Sit down, pretty thing.”

You smirked at the term of endearment. Soft pet names seemed foreign in his stern and quiet voice, but you liked how almost begrudgingly it tapered off his full lips. He was exhausted by how sweetly teasing you could be—how distracting it all was—but would sooner stick his hand in hot coals than to let it cease.

You wiggled your tight-skirted behind against one thigh. “Oh no, but what if someone walks in? What if they don’t see me at my desk?”

This song and dance had been done before. So much so that Hoffman furrowed his brows at what a joke you were making by asking such questions.

“They gotta knock first, don’t they, darlin’? Besides, they probably already know what you’re doin’ in here.”

He continued to look down at his papers, which you guessed he was really only half-reading. Wasn’t reading files to him your job?

You feigned a gasp at his implication, trying so hard to hold back a giggle. “Oh, detective, you think the precinct thinks I’m some kind of floozy? Some kind of slut?”

“No. They think I am, which is why none of this would be a surprise, would it now, babydoll?”

Another little name that, from any other man, would sound goofy, cheap, forced. But from him? With his languid Jersey accent? It was precious.

Hoffman froze up, making a show of stopping his reading and thumbing through leaves of paper. He turned his head quite deliberately towards you, tired blue eyes meeting your gaze. “If you’re gonna keep grinding around on me like that, I might as well take a break.”

His wide, bearish palms retracted from his desk and down over your thighs, ending at the thick elastic of your stockings. He tucked his index fingers under each band and gave a little snap. “Think these are work appropriate?” His lips began slipping into that rare, lopsided smile.

“You’re the boss, and you haven’t said anything yet.” As you smirked back, you turned your body just enough to reach one hand to his side, grabbing a love handle and squeezing. He jolted from the tickle.

“You just love doing that, huh?” he grumbled, still sort of smiling but with a slight eye roll.

“It’s a weakness, I’m sorry boss.” You wrinkled your nose into a joking expression.

“You got a weakness for fat, old fucks like me? Old enough to be your dad?” He gently stilled your wandering hand with his much bigger one.

“Mmmm, maybe.” You tilted your head with a little playful frown. “I dunno, you’re looking a little thin lately. Why don’t we go to dinner? Find a way to put it on the precinct’s dollar. Call it a work dinner.”

“Yeah, they won’t bat an eye at that, I’m sure.”

You tugged at his black tie, locking your doe eyes in on his. “Well, what if I—what if we—”

He brought a free hand to your face, thumb pressing delicately on your chin. “You’re just trying to make me fatter, babydoll. I see you.” He grinned sarcastically, eyes squinting tight.

“I like having a lot to hold onto,” you pout. “You look so good, so comfy.”

He exhaled in defeat. “Fine. I’ll take us to dinner wherever you like. But what do you say?”

“Thank you.”

He narrowed his eyes.

“Thank you Daddy.”

“There it is. Thank you for being a good girl for me.”

“Of course, sir.”

You had since twisted your body completely, now straddling Hoffman’s lap in your dark-shaded stockings and black heels. You began rubbing circles on the sides of his thick belly with your fingertips, playing around with the suspenders that were in the way.

As you unclasped one suspender clip, quickly moving towards his fly, he stopped you.

“What do you think you’re doin’, baby?”

“I dunno,” you shrugged, “just thought…”

“You’d make a mess of that pretty face? Try sucking me off under the desk or something? No, let me take care of all this.” He smoothed his right paw down your thigh and under your tight skirt, brushing past your small, silky panties and into your folds.

Immediately you felt the teasing pressure from his chubby finger.

“Use me however you want, sweetheart,” he practically purred with his low tone, never once breaking his stare into your eyes. “I’m your toy. Your big ol’ teddy bear, yeah?”

You let yourself move a little more wildly, messily, skirt hiking up past your ass. The callusing on his fingers gave you just the right friction, just the right edge.

“There you go, doll,” he prodded you. “Gonna finish for Daddy?” The way the sentence twisted out of his lips was more than a snide tease. It was like he was trying to challenge you in return for being such a bratty distraction to him on the regular.

It was embarrassing how quickly you felt yourself get there—how quickly you felt your wetness trickle down between your thighs, between Hoffman’s fingers. You collected your exhaustion into one satisfied, blushing grin.

Hoffman slid his hand out from under you, immediately sliding a finger between his lips, tongue darting out slightly to curl around.

“I want this for dessert when we go out, yeah darlin’?”

“Yes sir,” you comply, feeling yourself blush a little harder.

[kybercrystals94]

Gift Wrap by @lonewolflupe

This gift is for @totallywizard07 — you requested the Batch camping with a healthy serving of fluff ☺️ Thank you for being a wonderful part of this fandom community! You are fantastic!

The Last Island Wolf

Read here on Ao3!

Rated: G | Words: 745

@galactic-gift-gathering

“...and they say,” Omega concludes, leaning into the glow of the flickering firelight, “that the spirit of the last island wolf returns every full moon to search for the one who claimed him, the man with dark eyes.” 

Silence disturbed only by the crackling laughter of the campfire follows for several long moments before Crosshair retorts, “That is the most ridiculous story I’ve ever heard.”

“It’s a Pabu classic,” Omega argues with a smile. “I hear it everytime I go camping with the Hazards.” 

“But it’s not true,” Wrecker says, and after a beat, “Right?”  

Omega shrugs. “Maybe. I mean, there have been sightings over the years. Unexplained shadows and noises. Lyana even said that one night, Shep woke up because he felt hot breath on his face. But when he opened his eyes, nothing was there.” 

Crosshair huffs and rolls his eyes. “That’s a load of kark.” 

Hunter stands up and stretches his arms over his head, looking out into the darkness beyond the perimeter of their camp. “Good story, Megs. I don’t believe a word of it, but it got the job done. Wrecker’s scared.” 

“I am not!” Wrecker protests. 

Omega laughs. “Don’t feel bad, Wrecker. It scared me too until I realized that the island wolf doesn’t come for dark eyed girls. You boys on the other hand…” 

“But wait, I only have one dark eye,” Wrecker says, “So I’m safe too, right?”  

Omega considers, looking up at the star scattered sky. “Mmmm…that’s true. I guess only Hunter and Crosshair need to worry about it, then.” 

“Oh, yeah, I’m shaking in my boots,” Crosshair drawls and Hunter chuckles. 

As the Batch settles in for the night, Crosshair realizes that this is the first time he’s been out camping without someone keeping a watch shift. During the war, someone always had eyes on the camp. And after the war with the Empire, it was protocol, although he’d never been able to fully sleep with anyone but his brothers keeping watch. Now, they are on Pabu. There are no threats, no reason for someone to stay awake alone for hours. He’d gotten used to it in their house, with four walls and locks. Camping on the other hand…

“You alright, Cross?” Hunter asks, and it sounds sincere until he adds, “Scared the island wolf might get you while you sleep?”

Wrecker laughs and Omega giggles. 

“Absolutely petrified,” Crosshair snarks, turning over in his bedroll to face the woods, but he smiles when the comment gets another burst of sniggering from his siblings at his back. He is happy they feel safe here, that his brothers seem secure in the fact that they can all just go to sleep.

He wishes that such security extended to himself as well. 

Crosshair listens to their breathing even out, listens to the fire crackle and snap hungrily, listens to the wind in the treetops. He watches shadows stretch in the moonlight and dance in the firelight. It is peaceful. It is safe. He even has his firepuncher nearby, just in case this is all an illusion. But it’s not, this is their new reality. Safe. Content. Home. His eyes feel heavy, and he wants to sleep. But he can’t seem to allow it.

“Cross?” Hunter’s voice is soft, groggy. “You still awake?” 

He almost doesn’t answer, pretends; however, Hunter is impossible to fool. Kriffing enhancement. 

“Yeah,” he says, rolling to his back. 

“Why?” 

“Dunno.” 

Hunter hums. “I think you do.” 

“I’m not tired,” Crosshair lies. 

Hunter sits up, props his forearms on his knees. Crosshair watches the movement out his peripheral, keeps his gaze skyward. Hunter mutters, “It feels strange not having someone on watch, doesn’t it?”

Crosshair hides his surprise behind a retort, throwing Hunter’s own joke back at him. “Why? Scared the island wolf might get you while you sleep?”

Hunter’s voice curves around a grin. “Maybe.” 

“Hmm.” Crosshair swallows. “Me too.” 

Or a Separatist, or a clanker, or the Empire…

“I’ll take the first watch,” Hunter says, decidedly. “I’ll wake you when it’s your turn, and you can start early meal.” 

“There’s no need for a watch anymore,” Crosshair reminds him.

Hunter shrugs. “Well, someone’s gotta look out for that island wolf…”

Crosshair smiles. “Right.” 

Silence falls between them, not empty, but an unspoken acknowledgement. Hunter has always had the uncanny ability to know exactly what his brothers need, whether they admit it or not. 

Kriffing older brothers. 

But thank the Maker for them.

END

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[deathofacupid]

haircuts | tom holland

summary: for some reason, you let tom give you a haircut.

warnings: one dirty joke, talk of hitman (??) it's really just fluff-

pairing: tom holland x fem!reader

word count: 1.0k+ words

“why on earth did i agree to this in the first place?” you asked, looking at yourself in the bathroom mirror.

“because i’m the best boyfriend ever and you love me,” he scoffed, as if it were obvious.

“mm, i’m thinking no.”

“doesn’t matter! no take-backsies!”

tom sectioned off your hair, gently pulling on it to tease you. he patted the top of your head, causing you to glare at him. “see, all done. well, with the first part.”

he paused, “wait, how short did you want it?”

“do a couple inches. 4 at max. i don’t want you to cut off too much and have nothing left for my barber to fix.”

“yes ma’am,” he grinned, and you simply rolled your eyes.

“seriously, don’t mess this upppp!”

“i’m an actor, darling. not a hairdresser.”

“then why on earth did you beg me to let you do this?!”

“…because i thought i’d be funny? and it is! it’s hilarious and i haven’t even started yet!”

“i swear to god, i’m gonna shave your head off.”

“hair, you mean?”

“no. head.”

“you can’t touch my hair,” tom said, waving you off. “sony owns it.”

you pressed your lips together, frowning at his triumph. “sony can’t own your hair if you don’t have hair,” you retorted.

“yeah, yeah. don’t be such a worry wart, love. it’s fine,” he insisted.

“jeez. just cut it already.”

“okay, okay! don’t rush the artist,” tom muttered, “it’s actually quite painful, the amount of faith you have in me.”

“well, considering that you’re an actor and not a hairdresser, i think i have every right,” you grinned, playfully swatting him.

“hmm. well, you’ll be eating your own word once you see your hair! but just in case,” tom added quickly, “don’t quote me on that.”

“yeah, okay.”

he took scissors to your hairs, just barely hovering over.

“wait!” you interrupted, turning around to face him, and then yelping again when you saw that the metal object was barely a centimeter away from you.

“hey! careful!”

“you stabbed me!”

“w-what? it didn’t touch you!”

“it almost did! and then i would’ve had no eyes!”

“that wasn’t even my fault,” tommy argued back, “you’re the one who spun around that fast. also,” he mumbled, “you wouldn’t have lost both your eyes. …just one.”

“sabotage,” you hissed.

“what? where on earth are you getting this from?”

you sighed, shaking your head. “i knew you were a hitman.”

he slowly turned to face you, quizzical. “wha- who would pay me to kill you? and what would they get out of that?”

“i dunno. are you insinuating i have no worth?”

“no!”

you narrowed your eyes at him, “murderer,” you whispered harshly.

“oh, wow, you got me there. because that is what i was hired for.”

“that would make a great movie.”

“huh? a movie? girlfriend gets stabbed in one eye by boyfriend- even though it isn’t boyfriend’s fault -and plot twist; boyfriend is hitman?”

“yes. precisely.”

“okay buddy.”

“yeah. it’d be a total block-buster.”

“…of course it would be.”

“yep. wanna know why?”

“why?” tom asked, giving in.

“because spider-man’s in it.”

he tilted his head, confused.

“you! you’re the lead!”

“hmm. i would make a good boyfriend. i’d capture that role perfectly.”

“what? no. you’d be the girlfriend.”

“then who’d be the boyfriend?”

“downey. duh. how else would it be a total block-buster?”

“well, i think it’d be one because i’m in it.”

“yeah, but downey.”

“but holland.”

“mmmm… no. fine. maybe a bit. the girls are crazy for you.”

“like you?”

“i wouldn’t say crazy. maybe momentarily fazed, but even that’s far-fetched. i’d say you’re the one who’s crazy for me.”

“well, you aren’t mistaken,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your cheek, which in turn made you giggle. “wait, why’d you stop me?”

“oh, right. because you have to get my hair wet first.”

“ohhh. wait, really?”

“generally speaking, have you ever gotten a haircut?”

“yes!”

“okay then. anyways, do it.”

“sure,” he finished the last bit of his tea, before rinsing it out.

“what are you doing? why are you washing the mug in the bathroom sink? i feel like this is a valid question.”

“because i’m not trying to get tea on you.”

“wait, i don’t get it.”

once second you were nice, content, and dry. (well, as content as you could be.)

and the next you were soaking wet.

you looked up at him, jaw dropping as you moved your wet hair to one side of your face. “you. did. not.”

“what? you said you needed the hair wet!”

“so you dumped a cup of tea on me?!”

“no, i dumped a mug of water on you that was originally filled with tea,” upon seeing your face, he tried to amend, “but, hey, at least… you’re wet?”

“no. i’m not. this wasn’t arousing.”

“that’s not what i meant!”

“there was a spray bottle under the sink!” at hearing your words, tom turned around and open the cupboard.

“oh, yeah. there is. isn’t that crazy?” he pulled it out and started to fill it.

“well, how’s it matter now?”

“i just want to be thorough,” he nodded, causing you to glare at him.

“sorry.”

“liar.”

“yes.”

“okay,” you sighed, “c’mon short-stack, let’s get this over with.”

“i’m taller than you,” tom deadpanned.

“i’m… relatively… average hight.”

he frowned at that, but you continued, “you, kid, are also relatively average height. for a woman.”

“hey! i’m also older than you!”

“okay,” you shrugged.

“don’t test me, i’ll shave off your head,” he threatened.

“you’d never.”

he dangled the scissors in front of you, a smirk on his face. “watch me.”

“god! just cut it already!”

“okay, okay. impatient much?”

and because you were working on your anger management, you didn’t sock him in the face. you really considered it, though.

he snipped at your hair, grinning. tommy made you close your eyes the entire time, claiming that it had to be a surprise. surprise.

“ta-da! all done!”

it… it wasn’t terrible. it sucked, but it could have been worse. obviously, though, you weren’t having it like that to tom’s premiere tonight.

you inhaled, grabbing him by the sides of his face.

“this, babes,” a pause, “is why you should stick to acting.”

“in my opinion, it’s not half bad.”

“no, no, it’s definitely more than half bad.”

“beggars can’t be choosers,” tom said, closing his eyes and crossing his arms.

“i don’t think that works in this scenario.”

“hater.”

“yeah, okay.” you turned to your phone, which buzzed beside you.

your mouth fell agape, and your eyes widened.

leo (hair person)

i know it’s short notice, but something came up. so sorry!

you looked him dead in the eye; “where’s the razor?”

[star--anon]

I'm bored, let's talk jealous Minho

because you KNOW that idiot is slinking around Thomas like "Hey. You got any crushes? Is that boy hot to you? Do you like men? Do you think that man looks cute? What's your type. You like muscles?"

Thomas starts talking about how he sometimes misses Teresa, or how his love for Teresa and Brenda confuses him sometimes, etc. and Minho is vibrating with homosexuality

Thomas slips into his tent one night to tell him that he might have a crush on one of the Immunes, but he doesn't know what to do about his feelings

Minho gives him the biggest Kicked Puppy Look of the century

That moment when your crush is indeed gay, but is not gay for you

Start immediately trying to find this Immune. Needs to get a look at him. Whoever this man is better be the kindest, smartest, most sarcastic and yet also genuinely thoughtful and caring man to ever exist to deserve Thomas' secret admiration

Thomas laughs and promises Minho that his crush is all of that and more, but refuses to share who it really is

"Dammit, Minho, stop trying to know his name. I just need advice. What should I do?" "Find someone better."

Minho's soooo adamant about it too.

just dropping excuse left and right about why he doesn't like this crush of Thomas'.

"You've never even met him!" "Okay, but he could be a murderer. Why would I want to meet a murderer."

He gives hundreds of excuses and none of them are true. "He could be really mean. Have you ever even talked to him before? You have a dry sense of humor; what if he can't reciprocate? What if he hates coffee. What if he hates big sweaters. I bet your crush won't appreciate flowers."

Thomas keeps confiding in him like, "Mmmm, I wonder if my crush could-"

meanwhile all Minho wants to do is scream "I COULD DO IT BETTER"

He finally snaps one day. They're cuddling and Thomas sighs into his shoulder, and it sends a shiver down his spine, and he's just so fucking happy... And Minho remembers it's a limited amount of time before someone else gets these moments with Thomas. And what if Thomas won't have time for him anymore?

Thomas blinks in confusion as he's suddenly shoved off the bed

"Minho what's wrong?" "I dunno, ask your stupid crush."

Minho tries to pick a fight with him. He's better at anger and sarcasm than he is at talking it out. Maybe it's selfish of him, but he's drunk on anger and that helps suppress the guilt in him a little.

Thomas puts a quick stop to it though.

"My crush is you."

"So why don't you fucking- Your crush is what."

Thomas grins and laughs a little. Rubs the back of his neck. "Awkward confession, huh?"

Minho's on him and kissing his face before he can finish his sentence.

[scwibbs]

Mmmm okie lemme be a bit silly for a second but can I thank you for the fat Miguels? Like. I dunno it's nice, when I'm fat too? (Esp when you've done him as a trans man, I hold that dear to my heart?) He's got rolls and he's happy and idk? Seeing your art just makes me happy tbh, so thank you?

aaaa im so glad that you enjoy it!! its brings me alot of joy that my art makes you happy :') genuinely like ive said before knowing that my art impacts you guys in a positive way keeps me drawing even when im down. here's a drawing jus for you :D

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Sorry Not Sure If U Take requests but i have an amazing idea.

Soo what about an tangerine x reader

Where the Reader is an Agent and its kinda Like enemies to Lovers but a little more twisted.

Since the twins are Killers, she tries to find them and IT gets flirty and all and tangerine is after some time sending the Reader clothes and Gifts and such. And at First the Reader is scared Like how do they know her Adresse. As it goes on tangerine is about to get catched but the Reader Just lets him Go. As Well as some Point of Views from the twins where tangerine is Like obssesing about the Reader and Lemon is Like nahhh U cant Just do that.

Inspired by Killing eve

I wanna colabe

I do! I’m trying to get to as much requests as I can (: I’m sorry this took me so long I’ve been so busy and this just got buried under a lot of other requests

Peaceful

Tangerine wasn’t one to get distracted from a job, usually that was lemon. But not this time.

“Yeah, I’m jus’ saying.” Tangerine shrugged, sitting down at the bar and looking around.

It was a large bar in a hotel. Why the target was here? They had no clue.

There you sat, in a dress with crossed legs, taking a sip of your martini as you glanced around.

You caught eye of a man in a suit. Another man next to him and talking to him, then getting up and walking off somewhere.

“I got eyes on her.” He said to lemon, and looking at you.

“What’s she doin?” He hid behind a wall, getting ready.

“She’s talking to the bartender.”

“So how should I go about this? Plan A or plan B?” You asked your friend, and your partner in crime who was being a bartender in disguise.

“Mmmm…. He’s checking you out, Plan A. Don’t know where the other one is though.” She looked around.

You sighed and looked at the man, the so called “Tangerine”

He looked at you, giving you a smile. You looked at your friend who just shrugged.

“Go get ‘em tiger. I’m right here.” She slightly showed you the gun she had hidden.

You got up, and sat next to the man, he looked at you and gave you a small smile.

“So how you wanna do this? Just guns a blazing?” You asked him, moving your leg up and down his.

“Mmm.. dunno, love. Maybe I should jus’ fucking stab your eyes out in front of everyone.” He said back, and looked at you.

“That’s adorable. Really. Now please, just let me take you to my client. He’s getting annoying, and he’s all like ‘oh my god it’s been a month’ so can we wrap this whole thing up?”

“Tell me who your client is and this whole thing can be over in minutes, dove.” He pointed the gun he was holding under the table at you.

“You know I can’t do that.” You took another sip of the martini, now completely finished.

“That’s a shame, really.” He swiftly turned around, and kicked you. Many shocked people around recorded and Lemon pulled the fire alarm.

You looked up at the counter, and saw your partner running to you. Tangerine cocked his gun and held your head on the marble.

“Who is it?” He gritted his teeth.

Your partner held her own gun to his head, and lemon pointed it at her.

“Seriously? Am I the only one who’s not pointing a gun right now? Can’t we sort this out or something?” You asked.

“Yeah, we can. Tell me who hired you.”

You groaned in annoyance, and kicked him in the balls.

“Motherfucker-“ he mumbled, you giggled and stole his gun away when he dropped it on the ground, holding it to lemon.

“All right, can we just take you guys to the client? Cause this would be a lot easier-“ you felt a sharp pain in your side suddenly, your partner yelling and starting to shoot, the twins running out and zooming away in their car.

“Fuck. Y/n.. y/n, stay awake.” She mumbled, grabbing your arms and helping you walk into the car. She quickly dragged you to your guys agency, and you were immediately dragged to a dingy infirmary room.

—————————————————————-

You opened the door when a knock came to it, a large box at the door.

You furrowed your eyebrows and picked it up, cutting it open with a knife you stared it at.

A pink basket with a small teddy bear, a bunch of candy and a card.

“I know I shot you a few months ago, but I hope you feel better. But seriously, just tell me who hired you and this can all be over.

XOXO, Tangerine.

ps. Lemon did not want me to send this at all.”

You and tangerine had a very… complicated relationship. You’ve been chasing him for months, but he always slipped away. You’ve had sex pretty much almost every time you fought. You hated each other almost, but not really at the same time.

Sometimes, it wasn’t always hate fucking. Sometimes you both held hands, kissed, cuddled in secrecy. Two people enjoying each others company.

The chemistry between you both was undeniable, the only problem was work.

You looked at the box some more, how the hell did they find your address?

It was creepy, but almost sweet. You furrowed your eyebrows and read some more notes he left, he had also given you a novel, remembering the one time he had read to you.

“𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝑰 𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏𝒕 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒅𝒐, 𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒎𝒚 𝒍𝒊𝒑𝒔. 𝑨 𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔 𝒓𝒂𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒎𝒚 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅. 𝑯𝒆𝒓? 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝑰’𝒗𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒔?“ 𝑻𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒆𝒕.

𝑯𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒆𝒌, 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈. 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒔𝒐 𝒑𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒆𝒇𝒖𝒍 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒑𝒕.

You smiled at the memory, and then shook your head. No. It could never work out, you constantly reminded yourself.

—————————————————————

Another day, another chasing the twins mission.

You sighed and dreaded this one, looking around the crowded place. Your partner was out sick.

You then locked eyes with him, Tangerine that is. Lemon looked at what he was looking at and shook his head.

“Man, what have I told you?” He said to tangerine.

“What you talkin’ about?”

“I see the way you’re lookin’ at her. C’mon, man, let it go.”

Tangerine scoffed, and folded his arms, leaning against the doorway.

“I didn’t do anything. She’s here to catch us, so let’s just go.”

“You sent the card, didn’t you?”

“No I didn’t.”

Lemon groaned “Told you not too, man. Jesus Christ.”

You started to walk up to them and they started to back up, you looked back quickly, throwing a smoke bomb discreetly on the floor.

Soon, people were coughing and leaving the building, just you three now.

You smiled at them, standing in front of them now.

“So nice to see you both again. Thanks for the card, very sweet.” You said with a smirk.

Lemon gave him a look and he just rolled his eyes.

“Look, we don’t know who keeps hiring you to get us, but it never works, does it? So let’s jus’”Tangerine was cut off when you kicked the gun he was holding to you out of his hand, you grabbed it when it fell to the floor and pointed it to the both of them.

“What were you saying?”

You then punched lemon, Tangerine sighing and trying to throw you off, but instead you kicked him in the balls, making him groan and fall back on the floor.

“Okay, that was just not fair.”

You pinned them both to the ground, and when lemon was about to pull the trigger, you grabbed his gun.

“So, anyways, as I was saying, I can’t really tell you.” You shrugged.

Lemon sighed and turned to Tangerine.

“Can you tell your girlfriend to get off?”

“She’s not my girlfriend, tell her yourself.” He rolled his eyes, you stared down at them both.

You looked into tangerines eyes, they were beautiful you had to admit. You sighed.

“Can’t believe I’m doing this. Kick me.” You whispered to them.

“What?” They both asked.

“Kick me.”

“Why?” Tangerine said, face scrunched up in confusion.

You groaned “Because if my boss looks back at the tapes and sees I let you get away, I’ll get in trouble.”

“Alright.” Lemon said with a shrug, kicking you harder than you expected. You faked a groan, and you fell onto the ground. You looked up at them walking away and you winked.