#yes it is that easy for me to get reeled in

[egghead7enthusiast]

bro and his muse

[if-loki-was-a-fox]

Hhhhhh why does it always have to take me six hours to transition into doing anything it's so frustrating I just wanna write that fanfic NOW or take the shower NOW or get out of bed NOW I don't want to spend half the day hyping myself up for it >:|

[themultifanshipper]

You and Charles in the same room, completely alone?

It was bound to happen. What the fuck did they expect. 

Inspired by that insane video of charles signing caps looking like a fucking 73 course meal

Warnings: smut, driver!teammate!reader, choking, sort of public sex, sort of edging? it gets a bit intense

You and Charles were signing your respective merch in one of the back rooms. 

Piles of shirts and caps lay in front of you on a massive table. 

This was great for PR. The Ferrari admin had filmed a little video of you signing the merch and was going to post it to the social media accounts. 

But she made one fatal mistake. 

She left the two of you alone together. 

She should have known better.

Within five minutes you and Charles had thrown caution out of the window and were making out on top of the shirts. 

“Fuck- Charles we need to stop. They'll be back any second for the… uhh...” you trailed off as his lips travelled across your neck. 

He knew what he was doing this morning when he picked out his outfit. 

The grey sweats and the black shirt? Sinful.

 He knew it would drive you nuts.

And you fell right into his trap. 

The team knew about your relationship, and bless their hearts, they did their best to keep it under wraps, but the two of you did not make it easy. 

“You are right” he said, a hint of fake sadness in his voice “we need to finish this”  

He sighed and plopped you back down onto the floor and carried on signing caps like nothing was amiss. 

Except he was visibly hard in his sweats, and your eyes drifted to his fucking arms, that looked good enough to bite. 

You didn't realise it was all on purpose.

“Just like that?” you asked in disbelief, but you could see the tiny smirk threatening to appear at the corner of his lips. 

“Well” he shrugged, smug as shit, “If you really need me that much, we could kill two birds with one stone, but I don't think you would be up to the task” 

Now, you had no idea what that meant, or what he could possibly be planning, but just the insinuation that you could be less competent than him at something made your blood boil. 

And he knew that. Because even though you were dating, competition was in your blood. 

The need to be the best was what powered you both. 

So when he casually said “You use the table, and I will use you, as a table, and we will see who gets through their pile quicker.” Well… you didn't even think before saying yes. 

It was all Ferrari's fault anyway. They knew what you two were like. What the fuck were they thinking. 

That's how you ended up bent over on the table, doing your best to sign merch, while Charles pumped his cock inside you at a leisurely pace, while using your back as a fucking table. 

It had started as just cock warming, him stretching you out while you worked in silence. 

But your rythmic clenching around him and the slight shift of his hips every time he leaned over you to grab a cap were driving you both insane. 

He didn't even seem phased about it, he just signed a shirt, threw the shirt, grabbed a cap, signed it, threw the cap, grabbed another shirt, rinse and repeat, without ever breaking a sweat. 

You on the other hand, were having a bit of trouble concentrating. 

The stretch of his impossibly thick cock inside your barely prepped cunt was sending you reeling on every maddeningly slow thrust. 

You were so on edge you could probably come just from this. 

“So tight, baby. You sure you want to keep going? You seem to be struggling down there”  

Smug prick. 

“Yes honey, I'm all good” the fact that your voice wavered while you spoke didn't give you away at all. 

“Okay” you could hear the smirk in his tone “I guess that means I can go deeper, then” 

He didn't even wait for confirmation before slamming into you to the hilt. 

You cried out, hanging your head as he laughed at your reaction, going deeper and slightly faster on every thrust. 

“Come on, these aren't going to sign themselves” he snapped his hips again and you sobbed out a moan, not making any move to grab another shirt. 

He dropped the pen and cap he was holding, bending over your body to speak in your ear. 

“Are you alright?” 

You were trembling, your entire body was on fire. 

You shook your head ‘no’ and your eyebrows were scrunched together as your breaths came in short and ragged. 

That wasn't normal so Charles went to pull out but you gasped and grabbed his hips to pull him back in. 

“No! Charles please.” You sounded so broken, Charles was very confused. 

“Baby what is it, what do you need?” 

“I-” you were grinding your hips back involuntarily, and his hands tightened when you clenched painfully tight around him. “I need to come Charles. Please, fuck I'm so close” 

Charles chuckled lightly and ground his hips in tight circles, just to hear you whine. 

“Oh baby. Is it too much, are you really that desperate to come?” he mocked, but you just let out another whiny moan. 

He brought a hand around your neck, pulling you up so your back was against his chest. 

From the side he could see the tears in your eyes, frustrated by the lack of proper stimulation. 

“I'm going to make you come, mon amour, don't worry” 

And with that he snapped his hips forward. 

Your answering moan was so high pitched he knew you only needed another few thrusts. 

So he swiftly pulled out and turned you over so fast you barely had time to register him picking you up and laying you on the table before he was back inside you. 

His hand was back around your throat, and the other went to where you were joined, thumb rubbing over your puffy clit while his hips slapped against yours. 

Hard, and fast. 

“I love you” he groaned. 

“I-“ your eyes were rolling back and you promptly lost your voice as the intense pleasure washed over you. 

You'd been on edge so long it was like a tidal wave, your back arched almost painfully and it lasted much longer than usual. 

The sight of you so lost, so utterly consumed with pleasure was too much for Charles and he came inside you with a punched-out gasp, hips bucking at the suddenness of it. 

Your body finally unclenched and you slumped on the table, trying to catch your breath after that mind-numbing orgasm. 

Charles leaned over you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before planting a kiss on your forehead. 

“I love you too” you rasped and he smiled down at you. 

You pulled him in for a proper kiss, pouring all your love and affection into it. 

“Okay, now we really need to finish signing the merch” you said, and he giggled. 

You quickly got dressed, the sticky situation in your underwear not overly pleasant, and made quick work of the rest of the pile. 

You were back in hospitality an hour later, drinking coffee in an effort to keep you awake enough for the media duties you both had to attend to later, when the PR manager stormed in, absolutely fuming. 

“I have two questions for you, and I had better be fucking wrong about what I think the answer is” you'd barely ever seen her so angry. 

“First question, why have you put the wrong signatures on the wrong fucking merch?” 

She held up a CL16 shirt that clearly had your signature on it, and one of your caps with Charles' sprawly hand writing on it. 

You and Charles glanced at each other guiltily. 

“Secondly, why the fuck is this one�� she plucked out another shirt from god knows where “why is this one soaking fucking wet?” 

Well really, what were they expecting? Putting you two in a room together with no supervision? It was bound to happen. 

[cameronsprincess]

hey girly!! can we have a rafe!jj!reader 50 shades of grey type shit? like i’m talking the kinkiest shit going. being tied up, free use, spanking, toys.. the lot! x jj and rafe dom but mainly rafe. xxxx

oh absolutely baby🤍

CW: smut! 18+ only! dom!rafe, dom!jj, free use, bondage, spanking/slapping, degrading, use of a butt plug, throat fucking, piv sex, creampie.

note: to make the dialogue easy without color coding: rafe is bold. jj is italicized. reader is normal.

masterlists.

you, rafe and jj had been together for a few months. there wasn’t much you hadn’t tried yet, but, you were still wanting to find new ways to spice up your sex life.

the three of you are laid on the couch, bodies all tangled together as you watched fifty shades darker. your mind is reeling as you watch the movie, pussy throbbing at the thought of rafe and jj doing these things to you.

you slightly shift your body, rubbing your thighs together as you let out a shaky breath. rafe glances down at you, his blue eyes sparkling as a smirk graces his lips.

“you good, baby?” he rasps, his hand laying on your thigh, squeezing at it softly.

“mhm.. just.. ‘m horny… wanna try something new..” you whimper.

this catches jj’s attention, his eyes ripping from the tv screen and flitting between you and rafe. the latter smiles at jj, filthy thoughts already running through both of their minds. jj places a hand on your other thigh, his fingers tracing random shapes on your skin. his free hand moves to your neck, moving your hair to the side before he leans in, his lips finding the sensitive skin. he trails soft kisses from your neck to your jaw, his teeth nipping at your skin before he finds your eyes.

“tell us what you want, princess.”

rafe smirks, shifting on the couch so he’s sitting straight, his back pressed into the cushions. he grabs your thighs, pulling you into his lap, his hands firmly grabbing at your ass, massaging the flesh underneath his fingers.

you moan, your body rocking against rafe as jj stands from his spot, moving to stand behind you. jj wraps a hand in your hair, yanking your head back and forcing your eyes on his.

“come on, princess. don’t be shy,” his free hand wraps around your throat, gently squeezing before letting go, dragging his hand up to your face and pressing his thumb into your mouth. “what’dya want? hmm?”

rafe rips your shirt down the middle, your bare breasts springing free. he slaps your tit hard before pinching a nipple between his fingers, rolling the hardened bud, “you want us to use you? however we fuckin’ want? is that what you mean? i think this movie got our girl thinking..”

“yes,” you breath out, hands shaking as you continue grinding against rafe’s growing bulge. “please? want to be y’all’s little slut..”

both rafe and jj growl, exchanging a look with one another that has your breath catching in your throat. rafe stands, his hands planted firmly on your ass and bringing you with him. he turns quickly, dropping you down onto the couch, watching intently as your tits bounce. jj disappears outside, returning minutes later with two long pieces of rope. he holds them up, making his way to you, “this what you want, princess?” he asks, dropping to his knees before gripping both your wrists in one hand. your chest heaves, watching as jj tightly wraps the rope around your wrists and forearms.

he stops at your elbows, bringing the remaining length of the rope down and through the opening of your arms. he doubles it back over your arms, tying it off at the top. he grins, “you look fuckin’ pretty with your wrists and arms tied up,” he pauses, standing and shoving the other long piece of rope against rafe’s chest, “tie her legs up.”

rafe scoffs, pushing jj out of the way before falling to his knees before you. “since when do you boss me around, maybank?”

jj just chuckles, “i don’t, but, i dunno about you, i’m ready to get started on using our girl..”

rafe rolls his eyes, choosing not to respond to jj. instead, his pretty blue eyes find yours, dropping the rope to the floor in front of him as his fingers run up your legs. he digs his fingers into the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down along with your lace panties. both men groan, their eyes going dark at the sight of your glistening pussy.

rafe reaches down, retrieving the rope he’d dropped and looping it around your ankles, running it up your legs and stopping at the bend of your knees. rafe copies what jj did with your arms, pulling the excess rope through the opening of your legs before doubling it over and tying it off.

they both stand, admiring the way you look tied up and ready for them to use.

“god she looks fuckin’ perfect. our helpless little slut.”

“couldn’t agree more,” jj chuckles. “you sure you wanna do this, princess?”

you whimper, nodding your head quickly as your eyes dart between both men. a slow smile spreads across rafe’s face. he squats, grabbing at the rope that binds your arms together and tugging you forward, “words, baby. you know we don’t like that silent answer bullshit.”

“yes. yes i’m sure. please?”

rafe groans, “sound so pretty when you beg us to be used like a slut.”

he pushes you back, standing from his squatted position and stripping himself of his sweats and boxers. jj mimics rafe’s actions, pulling his shirt over his head before removing his basketball shorts and boxers. they both stand before you, gripping their cocks and stroking themselves. jj moves toward rafe, his free hand reaching out and pushing rafe’s hand away, replacing it with his own. rafe lets out a low groan as jj slowly strokes him from tip to base. you squirm, arousal dripping from your pussy and onto the couch, you loved watching them please each other, but you wanted them to touch you right now.

“fuck, jj..” rafe grunts, thrusting his hips forward, fucking his cock into jj’s hand.

you whimper, “please? i need you both…”

jj groans, continuing his slow strokes on rafe’s cock while quickly stroking his own. rafe pulls away from jj, walking toward you and grabbing your upper arms. “jj, come sit.” rafe demands, and jj quickly obeys, “yes sir.”

rafe makes enough room for jj to flop down on the couch, his hard cock bobbing in the air. rafe lowers you down to the ground, your knees hitting the cold hardwood. rafe places a hand in your hair, pushing your head down, your lips rubbing against jj’s thick shaft. jj lets out a moan, his hand quickly gripping his cock before he teases at your lips with his swollen, leaking tip. “ffffuck.. you gonna let me fuck this perfect throat, princess?”

you whimper, parting your lips and letting your tongue fall out. you lick at jj’s leaking tip, the taste of his precum coating your tongue pulling another moan from you. “please? please fuck my throat jj.”

jj smirks down at you, pressing the head of his dick into your mouth. he shoves himself all the way down and you gag around him before sucking in a deep breath through your nose. your cheeks hollow, tongue working against the vein the runs up the bottom of his shaft.

rafe spanks your ass, causing you to moan around jj’s dick. “be right back, wanna do something before i fuck you.”

your eyes roam up, finding jj’s darkened over ones. he presses his tongue against his cheek, his hand gripping the back of your head and pushing you down further, keeping his cock buried deep in your throat. “you’re just gonna warm my cock until i’m ready to fuck this throat, got it?”

you whimper around him, nodding your head the best you can. jj lets out a dark laugh, “good girl.”

the sound of rafe’s footsteps coming up behind you have your body tensing, but you quickly shake it off. you trust them. you wanted this. rafe squats behind you again, his palm slapping at your ass again, making your body jump. jj tightens his grip on your hair, “hey, no moving princess. gotta be real still while you’re warming my cock, okay?”

rafe chuckles, his big hand finding your ass again. he massages the flesh in his hands before he’s spreading your ass open. you hear the sound of a bottle popping open, trying to turn your head to see what rafe was doing but jj yanks on your hair, “stop. moving.”

you look up, watching as jj watches rafe, an amused smile played on his lips.

“alright baby, this is gonna hurt a little, but it’s nothing you haven’t done before. just breathe f’me, alright?”

you suck in a deep breath through your nose, letting it out slowly when you feel something cold being pressed against your ass. rafe continues to slowly push the cold object into your ass, the burning feeling of it stretching your tight hole has tears forming in your eyes. “almost in baby, told you it’ll be okay. we’ve stretched this ass plenty of times. almost… and done.”

you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, a stray tear falling down your face as the thick butt plug fills and stretches your ass. you shift on your knees, swaying your ass side to side. rafe slaps your ass again, the skin tingling and sore from his rough slaps. rafe slides two fingers through the slick folds of your pussy, shoving them inside you before quickly removing them.

“goddamn, you’re soaked baby. tell me, is it jj’s cock down your throat, the plug in your ass, or you being tied up and helpless that has you so fuckin’ wet?”

jj pulls you off his cock, strings of spit attached to your lips and his shaft. “answer him, princess.”

you suck in a shaky breath, “a-all of it..” you whisper.

“fuck, such a filthy little slut, aren’t you baby?” rafe rasps, shoving two fingers inside you again, pumping them in and out slowly.

jj shoves his cock back down your throat, beginning to slowly move your head up and down his thick length. you let out a muffled moan when rafe pulls his fingers from inside you, the head of his cock teasing at your entrance. “gonna fill this pussy with my cum, wanna see it dropping from this perfect goddamn cunt.. what about you, j? you gonna fill this sluts throat with your cum?”

jj groans, continuing to slowly move your head up and down his cock. “fuck yeah.. wanna see her swallow every drop too, we don’t waste what’s given to us, do we sweet girl?”

rafe begins pushing the head of his cock inside you, slowly inching his way in. he lets out a low grunt when he finally bottoms out, his hips slapping against your ass. “so fuckin’ wet, baby.. pussy is squeezin’ me.” his hands find your hips, holding onto them so tight you swear his fingers will leave bruises. he begins fucking himself into you, his hold on your hips growing tighter each time your pussy flutters around him.

jj lowers himself on the couch, keeping his dick in your mouth as he repositions himself. he spreads his legs wider, pulling you further between his legs. his hips buck up once, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat roughly. he slowly drags your head off, leaving just the tip inside before he roughly thrusts back in. his hips find a quick pace, brutally fucking your throat while rafe continues to pound into your pussy from the back.

your body shakes, muffled whines and moans spilling from your lips as they use you for their pleasure.

rafe slows his thrusts, slowly pulling in and out of you, his eyes focused on the way your pussy gripped his dick each time he pulled back. he slowly drags out to the tip, slamming forward again and causing your body to jolt forward. your stomach tightens, warmth flooding your veins. “such a good little fucktoy aren’t you baby?”

jj groans, biting his bottom lip hard as his cock twitches in your mouth, “fuck… so good to us baby, lettin’ us use you like the slut you are.”

your pussy tightens, that knot in your lower belly growing tighter as you near your release. jj’s cock brutally pounds down your throat, his low grunts and groans filling the air along with rafe’s. rafe picks up the pace of his hips, fucking into you harder and faster. both of them fucking a part of you along with the plug that fills your ass has your nerve endings tingling.

rafe and jj’s thrusts become sloppy, both men grunting loudly as their dicks twitch and pulse at the same time. you feel the warmth of jj’s cum spilling onto your tongue and down your throat, his hand in your hair gripping tightly as he holds you down. rafe pushes in deep, holding himself inside you as his cum spills deep inside your pussy.

both men are panting, their cocks softening inside you before they’re slowly pulling out. rafe grins at jj before his eyes fall back down to your pussy, watching a thick glob of cum seep from your pussy. jj grips your cheeks, leaning in to press a kiss on your lips, his tongue intertwining with yours to taste himself. he breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours. “did so good, princess. so good.”

rafe stands up behind you, leaning down and picking you up bridal style. your body is limp in his arms, wrists, arms and legs numb from how tightly they had the rope tied around you. “you’re a good girl.. we love you, now let’s go get you cleaned up and in bed, yeah?”

your eyes flutter shut, mumbling a soft “okay..” as rafe carries you into the bedroom, jj following closely behind.

tagging some moots: @nemesyaaa @starkeysbabygirl @rafescvntyclubgf @rafesthroatbaby @rafesheaven @hauntedfawnn @rafescorpsebride @rafesbabygirlx @maybejj @maybanksangel @jjsbaby

[lalunanymph]

𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 — toji fushiguro

you love spoiling your husband rotten

The sun creeps across his scarred, tan skin, and it’s not long before he feels your fingers doing the same.

Down his abs, over his pecs; slowly etching the tattoos curling around his biceps and arms with a soft touch he knows all too well. 

He resists the urge to grin, pretending to be asleep so you could continue with your naughty exploration. You sigh, and the sound tugs on his heartstrings. Toji thinks it's time to end this little game of yours before he does something you’ll regret starting. 

“A bit early to be a tease, don’t you think?” 

His sleep-roughened voice stops you short. Your fingers freeze in their unhurried path up his pecs, your breath faltering out in a whoosh. 

“T-Toji,” you stammer, and this time, he cracks his eyes open, a lazy smile lifting the corners of his lips.

“Mornin’, dollface.” Huffing, he pulls you on top of him, your naked skin intimately flushed against his. Late night scenes from last night play in his mind, a dirty reel on loop as he repays the favor, stroking your hips and thighs; running those calloused fingertips all over the marks stretching across your belly. 

“Those monsters still asleep?” 

You nod. “Haven’t heard a peep from them.” 

The golden band around his ring finger is cool when it touches your neck. Fighting back a shiver, you crane into his caress, almost purring with how delicately he’s touching you.

“Megs will be awake soon,” he murmurs, but it doesn’t stop him from grinding his stiffening hardness into your thigh.

You bite down on your lower lip, and Toji groans.

Your husband, still fit and handsome, dazzles you with a smirk, untucking your lip from the confines of your teeth.

“Oh, darlin’,” he mumbles. “You’re not supposed to do that—you know how wild that makes me.”

Shifting while straddling his thighs, you can’t pretend to not want this, especially when it's Toji of all people who’s looking at you through heavy lids, the tip of his tongue briefly touching the split skin of his scarred lip. 

“Get on this dick, baby,” he exhales huskily. 

Obediently, you mount him, letting him lift up your hips.

“Oh—Toji,” your caught gasp turns into a low moan when he stretches past the tight muscle, inching you down onto his leaking, throbbing cock. 

There’s nothing in the world that can make him go insane other than the feeling of your walls lovingly wrapped around his thick length. Your tinier hands brace on his broad pecs, and you lean forward, tits right in his face and within inches from his mouth.

Toji lets you ride him slow and easy, perfectly happy to suck on your nipples till they're tight and sensitive. Your gasps hit the shell of his ear, and he fights back a shiver when you moan his name so sweetly it almost sounds like a hymn. 

Sunlight splotches across your skin, illuminating you with an ethereal glow that Toji can’t keep his eyes off of. 

You lean back, letting him touch the deepest parts of you while you continue to grind down on him in sensual circles.

“Happy Father’s Day, Toji.”

Your breathy wish makes him chuckle, and he starts to rub your clit, humming in pure adoration.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

Best Father’s Day gift ever. 

While some schmuck was getting a stick drawing from his kid and the cold shoulder from his old wife, Toji couldn’t help but think his gift was the absolute perfect start to the day. 

Your mouth falls open, breathing growing heavier. He feels your walls pulse, your thighs starting to shake.

“Toji,” you whimper. “C-close.”

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” he hums, increasing the rough circles he was rubbing with his thumb. “Are you going to be good for me? Going to cum for me?” He groans when you start to choke on his dick, and he can’t fight off the tense muscles and feral need to blow his entire soul into you. “Or, do you wanna make me a daddy again, hmm?” 

Your hips stutter, and you cry out softly. “Yes.” Your eyes screw shut and he can’t have that. Toji’s free hand snakes around your throat, squeezing down on your windpipe just to hear you choke. 

A cruel smirk draws up his lips, and he snickers. “Yes, what? What does a dirty whore like you really want?” 

Your nails stab into his calves, and you shake your head from side to side, nipples peeking through the curtain of your hair; you’re trembling from head to toe. 

“Daddy,” you manage to garble out, gasping when he slaps your ass to push you to ride him faster. “Oh—wanna make you a daddy again.”

“Fuck,” he spits out, grabbing your hips, jackhammering you up and down his raw, red cock. “Knew you’d want that, you little fucking slut. Fuck. Gonna fill you up all hot and thick, yeah? Keep my cock in there until it fucking takes and you become my little pregnant whore again.”

He pinches your nipples, slaps your tits so they jiggle obscenely. Your cries are cut off by his fingers in your mouth, gagging you into silent submission.

“M’wan it,” you gurgle around his digits, eyes glassy and lips wet with spit. “M’want your cum, Daddy.” 

All the muscles in his body tenses. He’s hanging by a fucking thread.

“Oh, fuck.” He groans, gorgeous green eyes rolling back into his skull. You’re as delirious as him, biting down on your lower lip to stifle your moans, going cross eyed when he hits the golden spot inside of you which has your eyes fluttering close.

“Look at me.” 

Toji’s rough demand and rougher hand grips your chin, forcing you to look at him. 

“Look at me when you cum, baby.”

You can’t keep the flood at bay, your body crumbling under his pressure. 

Your husband is quick to catch you when you lapse into his arms, thrusting up into you as you can do nothing but take, take, take.

Those big hands spread your cheeks wider, and you love the feel of them on your body—so sturdy and strong.

There’s a tight tension coiling deep inside of you, and your eyes squeeze shut, mouth falling open as the band breaks and you shiver—flooding down his cock with a soft cry of his name.

Good girl, he moans. Cumming so pretty f’me. 

Toji grunts, lips pulled back of over his teeth, snarl ready to devour you and plug you so full of him it fucking takes and you’ll be so round and glowing just for him—

“Papa!” His eyes wrench wide when he comes to the mortifying realization it's not you calling out for him.

The door slams open, and Toji barely has time to throw the blanket over your shoulders when three small figures come barging in.

You yelp, darting under his armpit as your two twin girls and son joyously crow out, “Happy Father’s Day!” 

None of them, bless their tiny hearts, notice you’re both naked under the sheets. The orgasm he’s been denied rears its ugly head and Toji has to try his damndest not to grimace when his girls run over to him, stars in their eyes and butterfly pajamas rumpled.

“Darlings, what did mama say about barging in with no permission?”

In spite of the situation, you couldn’t help but burst out into tiny giggles at the disappointment on his face. 

Serves him right. Now he knows how heartbreaking and sore it is to be on the receiving end of denial. 

Toji can’t even shoot you a glare, not when his baby girl is clinging to his neck, rubbing her face into his 5 o’clock shadow.

“Dada, miss you,” she hums. “Wanna breakfast.” 

Megumi, shyer than his two twin sisters, is the only one to notice your bare shoulder under the blanket. 

“Ma, did you just come out from the shower?”

Hearing his question, Toji groans, head thrown back against the pillow. 

Glowering at all three of his dark-haired squirts, he raises a brow, scarred lips twisted into a grimace.

“Okay, all of you. You need to get out of our room and go brush your teeth.”

Megumi opens his mouth to protest, but Toji quells it with a sour look. 

“Now. Stat. Go.” 

Taking pity on your three little troublemakers, you sigh and shake your head. “C’mon, darlings. Go and brush your teeth. I’ll be with you in a few minutes and then we can make pancakes for Papa, okay?”

Mentioning the twins’ favorite breakfast was enough for them to cry out in joy and bound out of the room. Megumi lags behind, still suspicious as to why his father and stepmom were both being evasive.

But, the idea of pancakes appeals to him even more, especially when you make his favorite chocolate chip one, and the boy leaves you two alone. 

The door closes and Toji groans, pushing his sweaty bangs from his forehead. “We really need to remember to lock the door next time.”

You hum. “At least Tsumiki is with my mom. She’d probably freak out.”

Gathering yourself with enough composure, you lean forward, intending to give him a chaste kiss when Toji grabs your ass, dragging you back onto his lap.

“Baby,” you warn, but he’s not listening, trailing kisses down your neck. “The kids—”

“—can wait,” he murmurs, green eyes darkening, filled with an insatiable hunger just for you. 

Smacking his shoulder, you giggle. If there’s one thing your daughters inherited from you, it was your impatience whenever food was mentioned. “Barbarian. You know that door will not stand against Sora and Seia. We have plenty of time for that after breakfast.” 

To soothe his stinging ego, you tenderly cup his cheek, nuzzling both your noses together.

“In fact, we have until lunch. So, you better keep your promise to knock me up again after this, Fushiguro Toji.”

Toji can’t help it when you smile this brightly, putty to your charms.

“Fine. You win this time, Mrs. Fushiguro.”

— literally could not stop thinking abt him i think i need to be sedated .... rbs and comments are neat thank you <3

©️ lalunanymph.

[msbyslilbimbo]

‼️MINORS DNI‼️

el oh el but pls imagine having sex with shidou and sae recording it, but like.

shidou has a muzzle on, because he’s a loud, bitey boy, and sae is so possessive he hates seeing anyone’s marks besides his own tainting your pretty skin- even if it’s shidou, who is literally his and your boyfriend- and every now and then in your haze, you feel the plastic bump into your clammy skin, and you hear shidou roar in anger.

“take this fuckin’ thing offa me, dickhead,” he growls.

“you haven’t earned the privilege to,” sae says simply. “when you’ve earned the right to be out of the muzzle, i’ll let you out, pup.”

theyre both so dominant, so rough, but sae will always hold the title of “dom” over shidou.

shidou’s big, beefy hands grip your waist sharp enough to leave indents with his nails, and he’s got you ass up on your knees while he pounds mercilessly into you, cock prodding your cervix with every thrust of his hips. the entire bed shifts and creaks as he rocks into you, reeling his hips fully back before using all the force he can muster to slam back into you. your entire body moves with him, and your thighs burn from keeping your hips so high in the air, your only saving grace being your chest and face are smushed into the mattress, drool and tears staining the already dark ruby comforter.

your body trembles. the heat between all three bodies makes you writhe and stir. your pussy throbs around shidou’s girthy dick, juices spilling from your hole causing a froth that splatters against your ass with every pound he gives you.

all the while, sae is on his knees just a few inches away, close enough to touch but too far for your jellied limbs to reach out for, which makes you whine. he’s got his phone camera steady in his hands while his cock stands proudly, but dejectedly, at the sight of his girlfriend being ruined. your eyes struggle focusing on him, but when you do make eye contact, he smirks down at you.

“guess you’re not fucking her well enough, shidou,” he jeers. “she still looks for me while you’re balls deep inside of her. what a brat.” he brings the phone down to your face, and you whimper and try to hide in the mattress from embarrassment and the bright light of the flash.

only for shidou to stop pounding you for a moment, just a moment, and lace his fingers through your hair, pulling you up to face the camera. your arms instinctively firm to hold your weight up and try to ease the burn on your scalp. “is that right?” he snarls. “you want sae to take care of this sensitive pussy? my cock not good enough for you anymore?”

there is no right answer. you know if you say no, you want shidou, he’ll force you to take his cock until you both cum, only for sae to make you face away while you ride him in punishment- which wouldn’t be so bad, if sae would help you, touch you, acknowledge you, but his resistance to cumming can take hours; you’d almost think he’s not into it, if it weren’t for his tightening balls betraying him. he doesn’t even let you look at him, he’s so mean.

you say yes, you want sae, sae will put a cock cage on shidou to keep him from cumming without permission, fuck you at his own pace and his own leisure, and then free shidou into finishing inside of you, tearing up your raw pussy even more while he records it again, the whole time threatening to send it to everyone on his team to show them what a slut you are. he’s made good on his word before and showed them, leading to dozens of soccer players to slide into your dm’s and ask how easy it is to get you onto their cock.

you sniffle and blink a line of fresh tears out, only for sae to catch it with his thumb and bring it to his lips to savor the salty liquid. “well? what do you want, you insatiable girl? do you want me-“

“or me?” shidou hisses. you can see the grit of his teeth through the muzzle.

you gulp. your lips slowly part and you make fishlike mouth movements as you struggle to conjure words.

sae, unimpressed, grips your chubby cheeks in his thick fingers, smushing them close and pursing your lips out. “words. use them.”

“b-both…” you confess. “want both… please?”

you watch sae’s lips curl into a smile again, eyes blazing with excitement over your words. he looks at shidou, “well then. guess we’re going to have to ruin another little hole, aren’t we?” the phone gets guided down to his cock, as he grips it in his hands and starts to jerk himself off.

“you think you’re cummin’ anytime soon, you’re wrong, you little freak,” shidou assures, letting go of your hair and thrusting hard enough your arms give out and your chest lands heavy against the mattress. you whimper as your world spins, fingers fisting the comforter as a means to ground yourself. “not before me, you brat,” shidou grunts before slipping out of you. you cry out as he does, squirming and writhing at the feeling of being so empty. you collapse onto your side, feeling butterflies for the delicious torment you’re about to be subjected to. “i want that little squealy throat of hers. teach her a lesson from all that bitchin’ and whinin’.”

sae rolls you onto your back and gets between your legs, thumb lazily rolling over your clit before pulling the small bit of protective skin back and spitting a hot wad of spit onto your pulsing bud, all the while the flash of his camera fixates on your quivering pussy. you jerk from all the attention to your puffy, swollen gash, and he sneers.

“you can take her throat, shidou,” sae says coolly, as if you’re not splayed out on camera. “bring her to the edge of the bed so you don’t get in my way.

“because i want this cunt all to myself right now.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Seeing Stars 1

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes

Summary: You struggle to be star struck by the world's most famous super soldiers. (grumpy!short!reader)

Note: Guess this is happening.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The lights, the noise, the crowd, it's all a bit much. You move out of the way of another Red, or, Black Widow cosplayer only to nearly bump into a rather short but broad Thor. At least, you think you have those right. You don't know. Bonita is more into this stuff. You're more here for moral support, or more realistically, to carry her bags.

Didn't she tell you she was trying to cut down her spending? You've already tallied up more than you'd spend on groceries on a single poster and a bobblehead hero. Which one was that? The one with the metal arm…

You jostle against Bonita to keep from brushing against a stranger. You're not much for human contact as it is, but you'd rather it be here than that guy in the Spiderboy outfit doing twirls. You can respect the passion but it's all over the top. Someone's going to get hurt.

"Alright, signature time!" Bonita claps her hands and leads you over to a long queue behind a velvet cord. A man in black asks for her VIP pass. She shows it and you see the not so subtle total on the receipt; $500! That's robbery. These Stark Industries-issued heroes don't need all that.

You keep your grumbles to yourself and cross your arms to follow her. The man stops you too. You reel back and give him a glower.

"Relax, I'm carrying milady's things," you raise the bag and bobblehead. "I'm not interested in having a class photo."

"Please, sir, she's not really into any of this," Bonita adds with a cute smile. He considers her and drops his shoulders. He waves you through.

You shuffle along with the line of bodies. You lean to the side as you try to see the front. It zigzags back and forth. You're going to be here forever.

"Why couldn't Mo come with again?" You drone.

"Because he's a butthead," she whines. "Couldn't even pay me back for getting the tickets on pre-sale so he can miss out!"

"I didn't pay either," you mutter.

"Yes, but you're more fun. My brother's spoiled. He deserves it."

You nod and move with her as the queue shifts again. It's easy for her to come out and spend all this money. She still lives at home. You're not judging her but she also doesn't seem ashamed of it either. As happy as you'd been when you got out on your own, you sometimes wonder what it'd be like to have people to fall back on.

"It's going to be so cool. I got a photo with both of them! EEEEE!" Her squeal has you touching your earlobes.

"Both of them," you nod dully.

"Captain America and the Winter Soldier," she exclaims and claps her hands. "Do you think they'll like my outfit?"

You look her up and down. She wears a star-spangled corset and a red and white striped skirt. She's like an excitable flag. You shrug. "It's cute, but you must be cold in here," you peer up at the high-ceilings and the fans swirling the air around.

"Nope! Too excited," she assures you.

"Cool."

You might not be into any of this but you try to be a supportive friend. Bonita's a bit flighty but she's not a bad person. Really, you admire how into things she gets. You have your things but she's about as interested in those as you are in super soldiers.

She chatters on about the photo. Do you think they'll sign it too? Oh, she needs to put it right above her desk. Obviously, it's going to be her phone background. You nod and peer around vaguely.

She thrives in place likes these. Bright, loud, and chaotic. You'll take something warm to drink and a book. She'll join you if you throw in some face masks and the like.

It's more than hour before you're in sight of the front table. Your feet hurt from standing mostly in one spot. You stretch your neck one-way than the other as you near the head of the line. You stand right by the stanchion where the cord opens.

Someone emerges from behind the curtain and you have to quickly step out the bouncing soldier's way. Is it considered stolen valour or an homage? As you move, your elbow hits someone else and you spin to face the unexpected figure.

"Oh," the man catches your elbow as you look up at him. Dark beard, dark hair past his chin, wide shoulders, and straight posture. His blue eyes seem familiar. "Sorry, miss. I'm just trying to get back to my station."

You sidle closer to Bonita as she gasps. The man brushes his fingertips down your sleeve as he passes and heads for the table. He stops to speak with the person handing out merch then proceeds behind the curtain where the flashes have been steadily flickering behind.

"Gosh, can you believe that?"

"Believe what?" You stare after him.

"That was him. Bucky Barnes. The Winter Soldier," she exclaims. You blink at her and she scoffs.

"God, you're so lame. I can't believe you had no idea."

"I dunno," you pop your shoulders up and down. "Not my thing but that's cool."

"Oop!" She hops on her toes as the person at the table calls for the next in line, "that's me."

"Have fun," you say as you move aside with her haul.

She skips up to the table and shows her phone again. She takes the SWAG they offer her as they explain the next step and point behind the curtain. As she disappears behind it, you hear her squeal. You wonder if super soldiers have super hearing. That must've hurt.

You sway as you wait. Your name cuts through the air as you space out staring at a banner and you look over as Bonita waves from behind the curtain. You hesitantly cross the floor, expecting to be stopped.

"They want you to join!" She says.

"What?" You stop a foot away from her head as it appears to float between the curtains.

"Sure. They said why not? Since you waited in line."

"Oh, no that's… fine. I'll stay out here."

"Come on," she huffs and grabs your wrist, dragging you through. "Here she is!"

You step through and scan the space. There's the photographer patiently waiting behind the camera. Across from the lens, two large men stand with smiles that you can tell are all for show. This is a paid appearance for them.

"Hey, how about it?" The blond asks and beckons you over.

"I guess if you want me too, Bonnie," you say to your friend without acknowledge the man you know to be Captain America.

She brings you over with her and stands you between her and the brown-haired sidekick. Bucky steps closer and you wince as his hand goes to your lower back. You suppose it's normal given that you're getting photos but you want nothing more than to growl at him.

"Alright, everyone set?" The photographer looks at the camera and adjusts the lens. "Smile."

The flash goes as you refuse to follow orders. You're not much on smiling. You stand there like a mannequin as your vision speckles from the light.

"Oh, Steve, um, will you pick me up for the next one?" Bonita asks. You cringe and step away from Bucky's hand. He looms close as you squirm.

"Sure," Steve accepts breezily. He lifts her with no effort at all as you give a skeptical look.

"How about you?" Bucky touches your arm again and you draw away reflexively.

"No thanks," you curl your shoulders inward as you try to shrink down. "I'm good."

"Alright," the photographer says, "everyone together."

"Um, I think I'm going to step out, actually--"

Too late. Bucky puts his arm over your shoulders and crowds you as Bonita poses in Steve's arms. Your eyes round in horror and the camera blinds you again. She's really going to owe you for this one.

[littlelamy]

how you met

rockstar!rafe x model!reader

The pulsing bass and dim lights made it easy to get lost in the heat of the underground club. The air was thick with the smell of sweat, spilled drinks, and the kind of energy that came alive after midnight. It was the perfect place to forget… or be forgotten. Exactly what you’d needed after your friends all but forced you out tonight, insisting that life didn’t end just because you’d left your famous ex in the past.

"Look around!" one of them yelled over the music, nudging you with a sly grin. “This is exactly what you need!”

“Right,” you muttered, taking a sip of whatever drink they’d ordered for you, scanning the room with a sort of lazy detachment. You weren’t really looking to rebound with anyone here. That is, until you saw him.

He was on stage, barely ten feet away. Shirtless, tattoos splashed across his skin, he had that dark, brooding edge that made him look like he was born for a stage like this, all arrogance and mystery wrapped up in a stunning face with a jawline that could cut glass. His voice was raw, gravelly, like he was spitting out every word with a vengeance, and somehow, he had the entire crowd hooked.

Rafe Cameron.

You recognized him immediately—he’d been the face (and body) of a million indie music magazines you’d been in too, though your worlds had never actually crossed. But seeing him up close, hearing him live, felt different. You watched, your heart picking up speed with each word he growled into the mic, his piercing blue eyes scanning the room until—

He saw you.

There was a beat, maybe two, where the energy between you was so thick it was almost tangible. His gaze raked over you slowly, starting from the glossy heels that matched the clingy little dress your friends had practically begged you to wear. His eyes were heavy, hooded, and every time he looked at you, you could practically feel the heat licking at your skin. You arched a brow, pretending not to notice, barely giving him a second glance, which only seemed to make his stare even bolder.

“God, he’s looking right at you,” your friend whispered, practically squealing in excitement. You kept a cool exterior, giving Rafe the most casual of glances before looking away, leaning back to take a slow sip of your drink. His band continued their set, but he never stopped glancing in your direction, his attention flickering between the song and whatever spell you’d cast over him.

The moment they finished, you expected him to disappear backstage. Instead, Rafe practically leaped off the stage, heading straight for the bar, for you.

“Didn’t think a girl like you would ever show up in a place like this,” he drawled, voice low and teasing as he leaned an arm on the bar next to you. He smelled like sweat and the faintest hint of smoke, and somehow, it was intoxicating. Up close, he was even more gorgeous, a mix of rugged, careless appeal and a confidence that was probably earned from too many one-night stands.

“Maybe you don’t know what kind of girl I am,” you replied, shooting him a little smirk. You wanted him, yes, but the game was too fun to rush. Besides, you were still reeling from the effect he had on you. You couldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that.

Rafe chuckled, and there was something wicked about it, like he already knew exactly what you were doing and had every intention of breaking down your resolve. “Oh, I know. I’ve seen your face on more magazine covers than I can count. Got them all over my place, by the way.” His eyes roamed your body again, this time with no hint of shame. “But trust me, you’re even better in person.”

“You talk like you think you’ve got me all figured out,” you shot back, the smirk playing on your lips as you turned to face him. His stare was unrelenting, blue eyes devouring every inch of you, and there was no hiding the smolder in them. He’d probably perfected that look a long time ago, and it was undeniably sexy.

He leaned in, his lips brushing just past your ear. “You want me to figure you out?” His voice was a low, dangerous whisper. “Because, baby, I’ll take all night if that’s what it takes.”

You couldn’t help the way your breath hitched at his words. He was crass, unapologetic, and entirely too good at this game, but you weren’t about to let him know he’d gotten under your skin. Yet.

“Oh, please,” you replied coolly, rolling your eyes as if unaffected. “Like you could handle it.”

Rafe’s grin widened, flashing that perfect smile that made your pulse thud in your chest. “Big words for a girl playing hard to get,” he said, his hand reaching to twirl a strand of your hair between his fingers. He was close enough that you could see every detail of the tattoos etched along his collarbone, and you had to focus hard to keep your cool as he looked at you like you were something he was seconds away from devouring.

You arched a brow, meeting his gaze head-on. “Playing?” you echoed, feigning nonchalance. “This is just my normal.”

His laugh was a dark, husky sound, and the way his fingers brushed along your arm left a trail of heat on your skin. “If that’s the case, sweetheart, consider me hooked.”

He paused, eyes locking on yours as he closed the distance, his hand coming to rest on your waist. You could feel his warm breath on your lips, smell the scent of whiskey on his breath. You knew exactly what he wanted—and, if you were honest with yourself, you wanted it too. But you weren’t about to make it easy.

You let a long moment of silence stretch between you, your eyes flicking to his mouth for the briefest second before meeting his gaze again, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “Then I guess you’ll just have to work a little harder for it, won’t you?”

Rafe’s smirk softened into something that was almost a grin. “Oh, trust me, I don’t mind putting in the work.” Without another word, his lips crashed against yours, hungry, unrestrained, a kiss that held every bit of the reckless energy he had on stage. His hands held you firmly, like he was staking a claim, and the way he kissed was more than just a kiss—it was a promise, a challenge, a taunt all in one.

As you pulled away, a satisfied smirk played on your lips. Rafe was left standing there, his hand still lingering at his side as if reluctant to let go. You met his heated gaze, letting a slow, coy smile spread across your face before stepping back, savoring the way his eyes stayed locked on you, intense and unyielding.

With one last lingering glance, you turned on your heel, swaying your hips with each step, knowing full well he was watching every second. Each sway was deliberate, your heels clicking against the floor in time with the pounding bass of the music, and you didn’t look back, but you could practically feel his eyes tracing every curve.

Rafe’s husky voice rang out, half-amused, half-starved, over the music. “You’re playing a dangerous game, you know that?”

You glanced back, giving him a sly wink. “Guess you’ll just have to catch up and see.”

His smirk grew, and you knew you’d just sparked something wild in him. Just the way you wanted it. And as you slipped into the crowd, you could already feel the tension simmering, ready to pull you back to him the second you both decided to stop playing games.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @dinakisser @rafecameroninterlude @sstargirln

[little-wicked10]

Wanna Bet?🌹

Summary: After inviting her to be his date to some dinner, she finds out about the cruel and sleazy bet between Soldier Boy and his sidekick.

Warnings: SMUT 18+, cursing, dirty talk, body insecurities, self-doubt, Gunpowder and Black Noir being dicks, use of the word ��fat’, body worship, mirror sex, overstimulation, creampie

Notes: I read this headcannon by @zepskies that really hit me in the feels. I deal with body insecurities, and I was inspired to write this for anyone that’s ever felt insecure or ashamed of their body🩷 Plus, Soldier Boy gives off the vibe that he’d like a thick girl😈 Prepare to cry and be horny (it’s a confusing feeling).

//

The reflection she saw in the mirror she didn’t like. It was too easy to pick apart every aspect of her body that she found undesirable: her stomach wasn’t flat, love handles, stretch marks on her thighs, arms kinda flabby, and her ass was too big. Don’t even get her started on her breasts. At least, that’s how she saw herself, a collection of undesirable, unattractive features. While some would refer to her as curvy, she knew that was a nice way of saying she wasn’t thin.

Fat to be exact.

Despite all the things she thought was wrong about her, Soldier Boy apparently didn’t. It was hard not to be intimidated by the supe when he approached her with that confident swagger, sitting on the edge of her desk. She blushed when he flashed a charming smile and began complimenting her.

“So listen, I need a date for this bullshit dinner in Payback’s honor,” his tone was playful, “I came around to ask if you’d be my arm candy for the night.”

Her eyes widened in shock, “Y-You want me to go? With you?”

“Wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to, sweetheart,” he chuckled, “What do ya say? Wanna spend a night with America’s Hero?”

Of course, she said yes. She’d have been an idiot not to. It wasn’t until she was by herself did she realize what she agreed to, and her stomach fluttered with anxiety and excitement. She was about to go on a date with Soldier Boy. THE Soldier Boy. The supe that has his pick of any woman asked her to be his date. She recognizes he probably asked out of convenience. She was the one female employee he hadn’t tried to or succeeded in sleeping with.

He wouldn’t want to sleep with her anyway. Why would he? Rumors around the tower were he had playmates and supermodels on speed dial, so why would he want to sleep with her? She was just a plain office employee that blended into the background.

A knock interrupted her reeling thoughts. Opening the door, a young man from Vought stood balancing a clothes bag and a couple of boxes in his arms. She let him in and watched as he set the items out on her kitchen counter. She thanked him as she handed him a decent tip. The poor kid probably wasn’t making enough to run errands for a bunch of supes.

Delicately, her fingers began to inspect the items before noticing a note attached to one of the boxes:

‘Pick you up at 7. Wear this for me, doll - SB’

Butterflies fluttered in her stomach seeing his handwriting. She quickly unzipped the bag to reveal a beautiful black silk dress, “Holy shit.” The boxes contained a pair of strappy black heels and glittering diamond jewelry. If she wasn’t in disbelief before, she definitely was now.

Looking up at the clock, she shifted gears and began to get ready. She was meticulous in her routine: shaving and moisturizing until she felt soft and smooth, redoing her makeup to perfection, taking extra care with every strand of hair curled. She hadn’t felt this giddy and nervous in a long time. God knew the last time she put this much effort into her self-care. While her insecurities still rested heavily in her thoughts, a little bubble of hope settled in her chest. Maybe he would find her attractive enough to sleep with.

It should have been more upsetting that she could potentially be another notch on his belt, but the way he looked at her made her feel so….beautiful, attractive, sexy even.

She didn’t stare at her reflection too long, simply glancing to make sure everything was together and perfect. She felt so beautiful and studying herself would only ruin that feeling. Suddenly, there was another knock at her door. Looking at the clock, nerves chewed on her stomach realizing he had arrived right on time.

She stepped towards the door and, with trembling hands, opened it. Leaning against the door frame, looking like the Marlboro man himself, was Soldier Boy. His eyes blatantly roamed over her head to toe, “Christ on a cross! Aren’t you delicious.”

She nearly melted into a puddle, “T-Thank you. You have great taste.”

He smirked before producing a rose from behind his back, “I know what looks good on a woman’s body. Usually, it’s me.”

He chuckled when her whole face broke out in a deep blush before taking the flower from him. “C’mon, sexy. Got a limo and champagne on ice waiting for us downstairs,” he smirked as he held out his arm to her that she quickly accepted.

//

All eyes fell on Soldier Boy and his date the second they entered the room. They all wanted to know who the supe had decided to bring. He encouraged her to feel up his muscles with a mischievous grin as they moved about the party. She was quiet as she walked with him, observing the charismatic way he interacted with everyone that approached. People were just captivated by him. It was too easy to get caught up in his charming smile and hearty laugh.

Her back stiffened when she noticed they were getting closer to Payback, one of the more nerve wracking tables to be a guest at. He must have felt her tense because he chuckled, “Don’t be so uptight, baby. You’re rollin’ with Soldier Boy. Have some fun.” She looked up at his forest green eyes, biting her lip and nodding with a smile. He suddenly stopped a waiter with a tray of champagne flutes, taking one for himself and urging her to do the same.

He gently clinked their glasses together before downing the liquor in one go. He groaned in satisfaction which sent her imagination running wild. God, was that man a walking sex dream. They finally stood around Payback’s table. The team members didn’t seem too friendly with one another. It was more like they tolerated each other, but that wasn’t new.

Soldier Boy released her arm to pull out a chair. She mumbled a shy thank you before sitting down. Glancing around the table, she noticed Gunpowder and Black Noir whispering to themselves before laughing. Doubt crept into her mind, body nearly closing in on itself, when a large hand rested against her lower back. Eyes darted over to see Soldier Boy smirking at her. Her stomach fluttered again, skin breaking out in goosebumps from the warmth of his palm. The look on his face gave away the fact he loved seeing her so flustered.

//

It was nearing the end of the night when he excused himself, “Don’t go anywhere, gorgeous. Gotta talk with the big wigs before we get outta here.” Her cheeks pinked, and she nodded, watching him disappear into the crowd of people. A content sigh leaves her lips, fingers admiring the rose he’d given her. She was having a great time, which she hadn’t expected. She assumed she’d be ignored the second they arrived, but Ben (which he insisted she call him) had been nothing but a charming date. Flirting and little touches that had her heart racing and heat pooling between her legs. It was like he knew the effect he had on her.

“Can’t believe I owe that son of a bitch a $100.”

“I told you it was a bad idea.”

Gunpowder and Black Noir’s voices caught her attention. She looked around and found them just a few steps away from the table near the bar. They either didn’t know or didn’t care how loud they were as they continued their conversation. Whatever they were talking about, Gunpowder was pissed off.

“You know better than to make bets with that asshole,” Noir chastised, “You lost $500 betting he couldn’t convince Farah Fawcett and Cindy Crawford to a threesome.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Looks like he’s actually gonna go for it,” Gunpowder groaned, “I thought he’d be too shallow to sleep with her fat ass.”

There it was, her worst fear. She felt like cold water had been dumped on her, jolting her awake from whatever dream she’d been in. This whole thing had been a bet? Her throat constricted and tears began to burn in her eyes, stomach twisting till she felt nauseas. She felt so pathetic and stupid. How could she have been so blind? It was all just a fucked up game, and she played right into it.

She stood and quickly made her way to the nearest bathroom. Her vision blurred causing her to bump a few people on her way out. They scowled and complained, but she didn’t notice. Once hidden away, tears began to trickle down her cheeks. Of course this had been a cruel joke. Somebody like Ben wouldn’t have given her a second glance if it he wasn’t getting something out of it. She leaned against the sink, wiping her cheeks and refusing to look up in the mirror. She could scrutinize herself and all her flaws later. Right now, she just wanted to disappear.

She took a moment to collect herself before exiting the bathroom. Quietly sniffling as she walked down the hall, she held herself for comfort or else she’d fall apart.

“Hey! There ya are!”

Her heart stopped beating hearing his heavy boots approach her. This couldn’t be happening.

“Thought you ditched me. You weren’t tryin’ to run out on me, were ya, sweetheart?” he teased.

She tried to pick up her pace and keep her head down, praying he’d take the hint to leave her alone, but he easily stopped her by stepping in her path. His original words were stuck on his tongue when he noticed her distress, big tears welling in her eyes, “Hey, what’s goin’ on? What happened?”

She sniffled, a sour taste forming in her mouth, “I-I appreciate the…date, but I think it’s better if I go.”

He blocked her attempt to step around him, “Whoa, whoa, hold on. Why are ya cryin?”

Anger bubbled up in her chest at his false ignorance, “Tell Gunpowder you owe him $100.” The statement stunned him, mouth hanging ajar in shock trying to think of what to say. “Next time you make a bet like that, make sure your fucking sidekick isn’t in earshot of your ‘date’,” she clenched her teeth to keep her voice from trembling.

She once again went to step around him, but his hand wrapping around her upper arm and swung her around to face him, “Wait, c’mon. Lemme explain, doll.”

She tried to pry her arm from his hold, but he was obviously too strong, “Let me go.”

“Just listen, will ya?“ he could hear her breathing become more shaky, heart rate picking up.

“I’m not listening to anything you have to say!” she choked, struggling to escape his hold, “You tricked me into thinking you actually wanted to go out with me. That you might have thought I was…attractive.”

“The fuck are you talking about?” Ben asked astonished, “You’re sexy as hell!”

“Oh, spare me! Spare me the curvy comments or whatever bullshit you come up with! I’m just some fat ass you got paid to try and fuck, but it’s not happening!” the tears came full force now, insecurities exposed like an open would, “I’m so fucking stupid for thinking Soldier Boy would genuinely find me attractive at all.”

Suddenly, she was pushed up against the nearest wall, his growl rumbling down the empty corridor. Both his hands had her shoulders pinned, their chests only inches apart. “You gonna listen, or keep bitchin’?” the look in his eyes was dark. She was frozen in place at the show of strength and aggression. She didn’t wanna listen, but what choice did she have?

“Yeah, I made the bet. Made it so limp dick motherfuckers like Noir couldn’t get to your sexy ass before me,” he rasped.

“Don’t fuck with me,” she argued, “Nobody thinks I’m sexy.”

“Says who?” he quipped.

Her eyes cast down to the eagle on his chest, “Everyone.”

“Oh really? Everyone?” Ben suddenly took her hand and pushed it against the front of his pants. He chuckled and smirked at her wide eyes and small gasp, “Might wanna tell my dick that, honey. He clearly didn’t get the memo.”

He could hear her heart race soar, blood pumping faster to pink her cheeks and roar in her own ears. She looked at him in disbelief. “This sexy body of yours has been drivin’ me nuts!” he groaned, “You know how hard it was not to bend you over that table, lift that lil’ dress up, and fuck you raw? Fuck you like a woman should be fucked?”

Her breathing had turned to desperate pants the more he spoke.

“I’m a greedy motherfucker, baby. When I want something, I get it. Right now, I wanna touch every part of ya that you don’t like and tell ya why it’s my favorite,” his lips pressed against her ear, trailing down her neck, “I know what looks good on a woman’s body. Yours would look better naked and under mine.”

//

“B-Ben…please,” she gasped, clutching the sheets between her fingers.

His reply was the obscene sound of him slurping at her overstimulated pussy. The man had been making out with her weeping center for what felt like hours. The orgasms were beginning to melt together making her brain turn to mush. Ben planned to worship her body head to toe. He stood her in front of a mirror and told her to point out all the things she thought he wouldn’t like.

When she tried to look away from her reflection, he gently wrapped a hand around her jaw and made her look, “Nuh uh. Do as you’re told.”

He saw her eyes glance down, “M-My thighs. They h-have s-stretch marks. They’re t-too big.”

Ben was quick to spread her out on his giant Alaskan king bed to leave his mark on her plush thighs. He could have stayed down there for a few more hours if his cock wasn’t aching to be inside her. It was when he pulled away to let her catch her breath did she notice the ceiling was actually a mirror. A surprised gasp passed her kiss swollen lips seeing Ben’s back muscles flex between her spread legs. Her body felt too heavy to move, so she closed her eyes.

“No,” his voice was stern, “That mirror’s there for a reason, baby. Look at yourself, or I’ll stop.”

A pathetic whine came from her throat that was unrecognizable before she opened her eyes. She watched as he traveled up her body, his broader one obscuring the view of herself. She cried out when he harshly sucked and bit at her breasts. Her hands locked into his hair as she arched into his mouth. Ben made sure to kiss every stretch mark he found before leaving a deep bruise in the shape of his mouth and teeth. He pulled off of her with a pop before switching their position.

Before she knew it, she was laid on top of him, legs resting on either side of his to keep her spread out. She could see in the reflection his dick hard and leaking, twitching when he rutted his hips up to coat it in her slick. Ben wrapped an arm around her under her breasts to keep her in place as his free hand lined his tip up with her entrance. The way he was manhandling her had her lust skyrocketing. She never thought a man would be able to dominate her like that until now.

“Fuck! You’re beautiful,” he growled in her ear as his tip finally slipped inside.

She moaned and tried to move her hips down to sink more of him inside. The arm around her torso held her still, “Patient, sweetheart. Just keep watching.”

Their eyes met in the mirror, the green in his had turned black with desire. Ben nibbled her earlobe and neck as he sunk himself deeper inside until his tip kissed the back of her cervix. A mix between a strangled cry and whimper came out of her mouth as he stretched her out. She struggled not to let her eyes roll back into her head as he began to move. Unable to control himself, Ben started fucking her with purpose. Deep, hard thrusts nearly knocked the breath from her lungs. He watched as her eyes moved between his flexing arm around her and where his dick disappeared inside her.

“See? Look how pretty you are, baby? These pretty tits,” his hands suddenly cupping both of them in his hands, squeezing harshly, “This soft body. Those thick thighs. All of it. All of you gets me so fucking hard.”

She moaned, unable to look away from their reflection now. She was mesmerized by his words and the way his length brushed against that sensitive spot inside her. Every time he hit it, she saw stars. Ben attacked it like it was his mission. Desperate babbling rolled off her tongue as he fucked her with intense purpose. Her brain had officially shut off, too drunk on lust to give a damn about something like insecurities.

His groan vibrated against her back when her walls started clenching down on him, “Cum for me, beautiful. Ya gonna watch? I know I am.”

The band tightened, and tightened, and tightened, so close to the end but not quite there. She cried out in desperate frustration catching Ben’s attention. His right hand left her breast and trailed down her plush stomach until he reached her clit. He circled the little wet pearl with his middle finger in time with his thrusts. She screamed at the overstimulation and came, squirting all over their thighs and the mattress. Ben kept going, drawing out the electricity coursing through her until her hips started jerking away from his hand.

“One more,” he ordered.

“C-C…can’t!” she babbled.

“Oh you’re gonna, baby. I’m ruinin’ this pussy if it’s the last thing I do,” he growled.

He snapped his hips hard, slamming into that gummy spot and making her squirt again. She tried to scream but nothing came out. Her eyes finally looked away to roll into her head, tremors wracking her body as she fell apart. Ben shoved himself as deep as he could when he came. “Fuck!” he moaned as he kept rutting into her until he was completely spent.

She felt like she was floating, barely able to string together a conscious thought. Her body buzzed in the aftershocks of the incredible orgasms he’s wracked her body with. He carefully shifted them to lay on their sides, spooning her and not daring to pull out. He smirked at her trembling body in his arms. “Just relax,” he kissed her temple before glancing up at the mirror, “Good girl. Told you I’d look good on you.”

[vellazx]

Reincarnated!Roger Luffy x Reincarnated!Rouge Reader — a small drabble of mine!

It was hard working for the Navy, whenever the man whom you adored so dearly was bound to be your enemy for life.

How it happened? It was a long story… And you couldn’t quite put it all into words.

It started two years ago, all the way back in Alabasta, when you were sent out for a job with your coworker, Smoker.

The two of you could be considered as ‘friends’. He rambled to you the whole way there about a wanted pirate who went by the name of ‘Straw Hat Luffy’, at the time bearing a 30 million Berry bounty.

He was just a rookie. It would be easy for someone of your rank to take him down. You were respected by even the three Admirals themselves, probably only a level below them in terms of power.

So why was it that when you did come face to face with him, the two of you just locked eyes, as if entranced by each other.

Your heart skipped a beat in that very moment. And for some reason, he smiled at you, making your sudden jittery behavior and nervousness a thousand times worse.

You were so ashamed of yourself. You allowed him to simply run past you with that toothy grin of his, beaming with confidence and recklessness.

Smoker didn’t let you off lightly after watching that scene. But you didn’t argue against him, no. You fully believed you deserved it.

But why did that happen in the first place? He was a pirate, and you didn’t take yourself as the type to fall in love at first sight. You’ve never done that.

You couldn’t continue to help Smoker and the swordswoman always by his side, Tashigi, in capturing the Straw Hats. Especially their captain.

It was like your body acted on its own, forcing you to leave. After that encounter, you endured a mental crisis for nearly an entire month.

He just felt so… familiar. It unsettled you.

Why did it feel like you had met him before?

After Alabasta, you somehow ended getting tied up in his daily pirate schemes, as if you just couldn’t escape him.

Sabaody Archipelago, the Navy Headquarters, Punk Hazard… You could name even more times that you’ve met with him in abnormal circumstances.

And every time you fought him, every accidental brush of hands that made your cheeks heat up, your feelings got worse, and worse, and worse…

Why him?

Of all people, why him?

To make things worse, you could feel yourself… distancing from your duty. Your job. Like he was influencing you.

You started thinking weird things, strange things.

‘The World Government? I don’t trust them.’

You didn’t trust them? Yes you did. They wanted justice for the world, and you did, too.

‘They’re corrupted.’

No they aren’t.

‘In the name of justice? Don’t make me laugh. They don’t care about justice… They only want power.’

It was like there was a second voice in your head. An alter ego, almost…

All the while, in the midst of those thoughts… Your mind always reeled back to him. His stupid face that made your heart flutter. That smile of his, that was so infectious you couldn’t help but return a smile, which you didn’t realize most of the time.

He would point it out mid-fight, too.

“Hey, you’re smiling!”

“You’re seeing things, Straw Hat!”

You also couldn’t help but realize that during your meaningless duels, all his attention would be solely on you. Of course, when fighting someone, that was normal. But the way he looked at you… Did enemies look at each other like that?

His eyes shone, full of adoration. He always smiled at you, even if you wanted him to take you seriously. He didn’t gaze at you like he did his other opponents. He always stared them down with anger, or irritation.

He hardly knew anything about you, other than how well you fought when you clashed on the battlefield. But at the same time, he felt like he knew everything about you.

It took you by surprise one day, when he opened up his own confusion to you.

“It feels like I’ve met you before. Before Vivi’s country!”

Before Alabasta? That was where you first met two years ago.

And he was saying that he felt like he knew you before your meeting in the country?

“You must be crazy, Straw Hat…”

You said that, but you felt the same. And… he said he felt the same. You would’ve never expected him to be on the road of confusion, as you were.

You hated to admit it, but Straw Hat Luffy was the center of your thoughts ever since your first meeting. He indirectly influenced you, resulting in you slowly developing a distasteful attitude toward the World Government and all your coworkers.

He’s never even said anything to you about hating the World Government, yet your thoughts of him were changing you.

For better, or for worse? You had no idea.

It was impossible for you to deny the way your eyes softened, and the way your muscles became less tense when he was around.

In battle, you’d have to be the one to fight him if you were present. No one else. Not even if an Admiral offered to assist you in taking him down.

Because for some reason… For some odd, odd reason…

…You were paranoid that they’d be able to defeat him, and he’d die on an execution platform, leaving you alone with your feelings until your own death.

Why did it feel like… that’s already happened before?

You couldn’t let it happen again.

[misserabella]

Hey, how are you doing? Could you possibly write something about mean!Dina x reader?

please

dina woodward x fem! reader

cw; +18 content! minors dni!!, dom! dina, sub! reader, dry humping, nudity, punishment, voyeurism, reader watched dina touch herself, mommy kink, begging, jealousy, hickeys, making out sessions, teasing, praise kink, use of good girl, masturbating (dina)…

okay but mean! dina has my mind reeling.

like imagine getting on her nerves and her punishing you the best way she knows.

you’re a moaning mess underneath her, her hands harshly gripping your wrists so you keep your hands above your head and far away from her naked body straddling your lap. she’s humming, humping the crotch of your jeans, the material perfectly rubbing her clit as she basically uses you to get off. her tongue is inside your mouth, the only thing she’ll give you tonight.

“please…” you beg, your pupils blown, your lips swollen. you’re desperate, bucking your hips up against her.

“no.” she says, sternly, kissing down your neck. “you think you deserve it? you think you deserve to touch me after what you just pulled?” she mutters against your skin, harshly sucking on that spot on your neck, the one that makes you melt and your eyes roll back. you whimper, groaning, all in between, ‘cause you’re throbbing, leaking for her, and you know she’s too, the wet patch on your jeans is showing.

“he was flirting with you.” you say through gritted teeth as she kisses a bruise on your neck.

“you didn’t need to punch him.” she scolds.

“he was being an asshole.” she hums, biting on your skin. “ah. and- and you know it.” she snickers at your stuttering. you’re so easy to crack. “please. please let me touch you.” she shakes her head and you moan in pain as she pulls away from you, sitting at the feet of the bed, legs spread for you to see her weeping cunt, her gaping hole and her puffy throbbing clit. your mouth waters as she reaches in between her thighs, sighing as her fingers dip in between her folds. “i’ll apologize. i’ll do whatever you want.” you promise, your breath hitching at the soft and sugar coated moan that leaves her mouth when she plunges two fingers inside. “please mommy.” you can see what it does to her. that name. the tone you use. your begging. your desperation. she loves it. but you’re suffering. “let me make you feel good. i want to make you feel good.”

she stared at you, slowly fucking her fingers in and out of her cunt. you can see the white of her cum making rings on her fingers, dripping out of her stretched out hole.

“yeah? you want to make mommy feel good?” you nodded, your hands trembling, aching to feel the warmth and softness of her skin, the plush of her ass and breasts. “want to be a good girl for me?”

“yes…” you almost cried out, your eyes stinging.

“then be a good girl for mommy and watch me make myself cum.”

-

a/n; i caved @andersonlore 😭

[lay-z]

stalker!simon who finds and uses your Tumblr blog to get to know you on a level no one else has ever gotten to know you –

18+ ONLY | MDNI

stalker!simon who has finally found a target of his desire and it happens to be you,

but you're sort of a little weirdo and as antisocial as him, so there's nothing much of intel he can work with, except a name and your pretty face.

oh, and he does happen to know one of your friends, because she kept flirting with his sergeants that one night at the pub; the night he first laid eyes on you.

he's a task force-141 lieutenant, though, and if he can't do something or doesn't know the answer to a problem, he definitely knows people he trusts, who will have a solution for him – one way or another.

so, he gathers all the intel he can and soon enough, the tidbits of information come together in a pretty mosaic of what turns out to be the perfect woman for him; you're just not aware of it yet.

the posts he finds on your blog are downright scandalous, filthy and yes, even funny, and – is that a bloody nude?!

yes, it is, because on your personal blog, you feel utterly free and safe behind the wall of anonymity and the whole aesthetic you've built around it.

no one who knows you personally, knows about your little Tumblr blog and in your posts, you do admit that you're desperate to keep it that way.

this is where you can be the most unapologetic version of yourself, after all.

Simon knows, though. he knows it's yours, because, even if you try to hide your identity in the selfies you posts, he recognizes you – easy.

the more time he spends on your blog, the more obsessed he becomes, and when he stumbles upon a more recent post of yours – about your mask kink and that masked man you saw at the pub the other night – Simon. is. reeling.

he knows your secrets, he knows your kinks, your turn-ons and your turn-offs, your ideal first date, your fears and worries and trauma. he knows what kind of love you crave but never seem to find; knows that you're as touch-starved as he is, but too afraid to let any man near you – physically and emotionally.

it's oh so perfect for him, because he can prepare himself before making his move, but he'll also have a serious talk with you about putting all your info on the internet like that for everyone to read; he can't have anyone else have a wank (or many) to your pictures like he has. no, no. absolutely not.

anyways –

and now you've mentioned him? basically given him a shoutout?

in your last post, you mention how you keep dreaming about this masked and very massive stranger; how you fantasize about him at night when you fuck your sopping cunny with the largest dildo you own, imagining it's him instead.

it's the last push he needs, really.

and one evening, while you're lazily toying with your puffy little clit again, scrolling Tumblr and reading the most shameless smut by your favorite writers, you suddenly get an anonymous ask –

If you beg me nicely, I might let you touch the mask when I fuck that sweet little cunt of yours, luv.

– 💀

Shall I turn this into a proper oneshot? :)

[starboye]

pairing: jensen ackles x male reader

request: Could i request a Jensen Ackles x Male Reader; Where the reader is the personal assistant of Jensen, and for the past few weeks, Jensen has been more angry and gets pissed off easily. When reader overhears Jensen talking about maybe finding a new assistant, he realizes that his job is at stake and doesn't want to be away from his crush, so he decides to please Jensen in anyway possible. For weeks reader works overtime to do anything for Jensen, without any change, but one night, while picking up a half-drunk Jensen, he gets to know that Jensen is going through a divorce and needs someone to meet his bedroom needs. Reader jumps at the opportunity, and "sacrifices" himself to be Jensens personal whore.

warnings: SMUT, rough sex, degradtion, face slapping, cum denial, choking if you squint, kinda cheating, breeding, unprotected sex, daddy kink, pet names, bondage if you kinda look really hard, and something else

words: 1.9k

working for mr.ackles was no easy task, between his random rage outbursts, the overwhelming work, and the back aching overtime you were doing for him it was all to much but you stuck through the job if it meant that you got to see that fine ass man every day, you'd do anything for him, waiting hands and knees for his every order like a good boy.

if we're being real sometimes you'd stay up at night fucking yourself with a dildo imagining it was jensen fucking you with his thick cock as you moaned out his name but every morning you woke up to the same reality, and it was even more nerve racking when you over heard mr.ackles talking about firing you because you had been slacking off.

so the only logical thing you could do is start working overtime hoping that would be enough, night after night you stayed after hours helping him do work and try to take some of the stress off him but that was barely working so you had to find another way to keep your job and the lord must have heard your prayers.

the night you were working and getting stuff organized for mr.ackle you got a call from the local bar saying jensen said to call you since he got to drunk to drive home, you immediately hopped in your car and drove to the bar hoping he was okay, you pull up to the bar to see jensen sitting on the curb.

"mr.ackles are you okay" you ask lifting him up "yeah im... im fine" he slurs his words a bit due to the alcohol but you nonetheless get him in the car and soon begin driving "why didn't you call your wife sir" you question glancing at him to make sure he's okay "fuck that bitch" he curses "what do you mean" you ask with eyebrows furrowed "we're going through a tough situation right now it's nothing" he says.

you wanted to be civil about it but on the inside you were dancing with joy that that bitch- i mean his wife wasn't doing so well in the relationship "and i haven't been able to get off in weeks" jensen admits in his drunken state not even realizing what he said which gives you an idea.

"well if you ever need anything i'm here for you" you softly say moving your hand to rub jensens thigh, you see a slight tent rise in his pants "mmm y/n" jensen strains, feeling your hand rub on his thigh is the most contact he's gotten from someone in weeks "yes mr.ackles" you innocently say as if you didn't plan this all in a matter of seconds "fuck" jensen mutters under his breath trying to resist the urges too have your hand wrapped around his dick.

"oh my god are you okay mr.ackles" you ask faking any concern and pulling the car over to the curb before turning attention to him "will you..." he says but is to embarrassed to get the words out so he just moves your hand closer to the tent in his pants "oh no mr.ackles i couldn't do that" you keep up your innocent facade to reel jensen in further.

"cut the shit, i see the way you look at me during work and i know you've jerked off to the thought to me fucking you open every night, and shut up with the mr.ackles shit and call me jensen now are you gonna ride my dick or not" jensen snaps at you making you almost whimper at his agression "yes sir" you say stripping down to nothing, jenson taking off his pants and underwear along with his shirt.

you straddle his lap, and take his dick into your hand, stroking it slowly as you hold eye contact with him "yeah baby just like that" jensen breaths before pulling you into messily make out, his breath reeked of booze but you pushed through, fueled with the thought of finally being able to ride your boss.

"now ride me like the good little slut you are" jensen smirks as you shakily lift over him "c'mon you gotta have lube in here somewhere" he says rummaging through you car before finding a half empty bottle of lube in your glove box "half empty, you must get fucked a lot" jensen says before putting some on his fingers and smearing it on his dick and then on your hole and throwing the bottle in the backseat.

you lower yourself onto his dick slowly making jensen more and more frustrated "come on slut i dont got all night" he says grabbing your waist to push you all the way down on his cock, you moan out loudly "now doesn't that feel so much better, my dick all nuzzled in your hole" he says, his voice slick with cockiness, you look down to see the outline of his dick in your stomach making you whimper at the sight.

"yeah that's me in you, gonna ruin you from the inside and out" jensen says with a sick smile as he poke at the bulge and begin lifting and dropping you on his length over and over "jen- fuck... jensen" you whine "what" he asks, his attention set on the way you take his cock "slow down please" you ask throwing your head back.

"come on i thought this was your fantasy, to be getting your ass split by your bosses dick, you can take it" jensen says not stopping his motion into you "it's to big" you whimper feeling it spread and hit parts of you your dildo couldn't even get "well then do it for the sake of your job, if you can ride me till i cum then you keep your job, if you don't you're fired and you don't get to taste this sweet dick ever again" jensen smirked st your now scared expression.

he was putting your job on the line, but i mean you asked for this when you made advances towards him so now you have to get him to cum to keep this job and your boss "y-yes sir" you stutter lifting yourself off his cock and lowering onto him, his hands still holding your hips for support "mhm just like that, fuck yourself on daddys dick" jensen groans.

"you take me better than my wife ever did, that whiny bitch could barely take the tip but you... you can take all of me with no problem" he says thrusting upward into you a little "thank you daddy" you whine, feeling your knees go weak as you continue riding, you move you hand to your aching dick and start jerking off.

"ah ah who said you could jerk off" jensen tuts holding your hands behind your back with his own and slapping your ass "but i need to cum" you beg "looks like im gonna have to punish your slutty ass" jensen says and you feel your heart drop to your stomach knowing he wasn't gonna be light.

jensen wraps his hand around your throat and forces you too look at him while his other hand holds your hands in place before he begins thrusting up into you, the plaps filling the car as the windows become foggy from the sweat in the car, you moan out into the car as jensen assaults your hole brutally "daddy" you moan out at every drop.

"yeah you love the way i fuck you right, wanna feel this dick every day" jensen spits out roughly as his eyes fill with lust and hunger, you nod at his question "mhm" you whimper lowly tightening your hole around him "want my kids deep in your stomach huh" jensen asks "wanna make me a new daddy, walk around my house filled and good" and you moan at the mere thought of you getting fucked by him every day.

"yes daddy please fill me up with your cum, i want you in me all the time" you moan "im gonna fucking ruin your ass and make it all sloppy so no other guy can fuck you" jensen says through gritted teeth, and just right there you cum all over his chest, you look down at him with fear written in your eyes "please daddy im so so sorry i didn't mean to cum" you try to apologize but its to late "cumming when i didn't say you could, not only are you a whore but you're a disobedient whore" jensen says with a smirk.

jensen moves his hand from your throat and your head drops as his hand moves to slap your ass "count how many times i slap your ass okay" jensen says and you nod without a single thought in your mind from being fucked dumb, one slap on your ass "one" you weakly say and another "two and another "three" and another till you couldn't even remember what number you were on "which one was that y/n" jensen asks still fucking into your sloppy hole "five" you answer "wrong answer" he says and you could feel him go harder.

"so fucking dumb all over my dick, not a single thought behind those eyes you just wanna please me" jensen says noticing you almost faint "hey stay with awake we're not done yet" jensen says slapping you and grabbing you by the chin to lift your head, you couldn't even make out what was happening, everything was molding together and words were just sound in the back of your mind.

jensen had been abusing your hole for about an hour now and you were just praying that he'd cum and give you some rest, your eyes were rolling to the back of your head as he fucked you up, you tried to speak but the words would just be babbles "speak clearly for me baby" jensen would taunt watching you get dumber and dumber.

"you want daddy to cum in you, fill you up with his big dick" jensen asks in a teasing voice, you nod desperately at the question "okay then" jensen says taking his other hands from around your wrists and moving it to hold you waist still, he fucks up into you roughly making you see stars at this point, you couldn't even make out what was real or just apart of your imagination.

but that didn't matter as you felt the sweet feeling of relief wash over you as jensen came in you, you could feel your stomach getting more full as his cumm filled you "yeah take it take it all" jensen grunts still fucking you to ride out his high and push his cum further in you "does this mean i keep my job daddy" you ask weakly "yeah i gotta keep you around for this good hole" jensen mutters lifting you off his messy dick, the cum dripping from your loose hole.

jensen put you in the backseat and get in the drivers seat and drove you to the office because he didn't know where you lived and when he tried to ask you you'd reply with some unknown whines, you woke up to the sight of jensen working at his desk and you were in his over sized clothes "go home and wash up then come right back" jensen demanded like he didn't fuck you unconscious last night, but trust after that day you were his cum dump, he dumped load after load into you, and when he was mad you knew you were gonna get some good dick that day.

taglist: @mailmango @spermeboy @ghostking4m @gayaristocrat

[suempu]

masterlist <3

“hey, laios, right?” a man approaches him, a slight slur to his words with a flushed look on his face. laios barely stammers out a reply before the mysterious man mentions your name. “yeah, that’s you! hey, you’re their party leader, no? are you two close?” 

he raises a brow in concern. “yes? why do you ask?” laios places the drinks he was holding down, eyes unconsciously glancing over at you from across the tavern, smiling while force feeding marcille a peculiar-looking snack. 

he can already see the slight wobble of your movements and laios hopes you won’t feel too sick the day after.

“oh! that’s great, is there anything they’re particularly into? what’s their type? come on, help a guy out!!” the stranger leans close, waving around in exasperation. “surely you must know some stuff, yeah? any spicy secrets??”

laios reels back, putting a few inches of distance between them. “spicy secrets?— like their favorite seasoning?” 

“no, man! are you stupid? i wanna get with them.” 

oh. huh.

laios feels a frown coming to form on his face. “i see. why?”

“huh, why what?”

“why do you want to… get with them?” 

“cute face. not bad looking. easy game, don’t you think?” 

“oh.” his eyebrows furrow. he’s feeling some sort of anger that he’s never felt before. a bubbling feeling in his chest that’s… primal and territorial. possessive. 

“they’re not easy. they’re not a game, even. don’t go near them.” without waiting for a reply, laios snatches the drinks and bunches them up in his hands before waddling carefully towards your parties’ table. 

chilchuck scoffs when he approaches, “finally, i was starting to feel sober.” falin notes jokingly, “i’m sure that 10 minutes without your refill was very hard to endure.” 

they erupt in friendly chuckles that soon die down into confusion once they see the look on laios’ face. he sets down the drinks one by one, jaw tensed with silent fury accompanied by a hardened glare. 

he hears you let out a confused and soft laugh, “did the beer pick a fight with you, laios, honey?”

the man huffs, causing the rest to stare at him in agape. 

he plops down beside you with another huff before suddenly taking your hand into his. you smile in hopes to sooth him, watching as he caresses it with his thumb and placing it on his thigh.

marcille blinks before shrugging, and soon the party continues their usual antics.

your lover calls out your name, averting your attention from senshi’s wild story of wrestling with a human sized crab to focus on him. his heart swells when your eyes meet.

“i don’t want you to leave me.”

you look confused. “laios? where is this coming from? i would never.”

eyes narrowing, the lines on his mouth go further down. “there was a man. who said he wanted you. and i didn’t like that.” he curled his fingers around you tighter, as if you’d fly away from a mere breath. 

“is that why you looked so sour?”

“mostly because of the way he talked about you.” 

“ah.” 

laios scans the place to search for the stranger before he feels you bring up your intertwined hands towards your face to press a soft kiss onto his knuckles. 

you smile, turning to him and pecking his jaw, then his cheek, watching a pink blush bloom all over his face.. 

he feels warm all over, palms already sweating while his chest tightens. a dopey smile graces his features, glowing under your affection. 

“i wouldn’t worry about him.” you reassure him softly, kissing the corner of laios’ mouth. and just the tone of your voice, as if there's nothing in the world that could ever prove you wrong, laios believes you.

[phantomrose96]

Sham Sacrifice: Chapter 2

(Sham Sacrifice: Chapter 1)

Chapter 2, because @ciestess voiced an idea that absolutely consumed my entire mind and I could not rest until I made this

...

Danny’s eyes tracked the swing of gunfire raining bullets across the horizon. Tucker reloaded, crouched, dodged left and pivoted, another blast of bullet confetti launched through a gaggle of zombie heads. He tossed the magazine and reloaded. Click. Ching. Danny flinched when a zombie smashed a hammer clean through Tucker’s head.

 “God. Fucking…” Tucker pulled out of his hunch. He unclamped his fingers from his controller like bug legs unfurling. He extended the controller to Danny, bouncing it in his grip. “Your turn.”

“Huh?” Danny asked, as if he hadn’t been watching Tucker’s game the whole time.

“You. You’re up. I died.”

Danny accepted the controller, reloaded the screen, and jogged about a hundred feet forward before the first horde of zombies took him out football-style from the left. The death screen rolled.

“Oops,” Danny said.

“Not your best work.” And Tucker took the controller back. Tucker shot a few spare glances to Danny while the level restart loaded in. “Is it Vlad?”

“No. Well, yes,” Danny answered, flopping back into his normal position on the Foley attic armchair. Tucker’s mom had planned to toss it ages ago, before it became Danny’s chair. “But at least he left when my parents went all zombie mode into the basement.” Danny picked absently at the scabs of leather flaking from the armrest. “It was just weird.”

“I don’t mean this as an insult, but it’s definitely not the first time your dad’s gotten some math wrong,” Tucker said. “He blows up like three things a week doesn’t he?”

“He does. But he doesn’t care when he gets that math wrong. This one was like I broke something important.” Danny’s expression soured, and he picked a leather flake clean off the chair. “Vlad did, I mean.”

“Does any of the math actually work?” Sam offered from Tucker’s desk. She leaned an elbow around the back of his chair, head tilted to Danny. A pencil dangled from her loose fingers, nib-half worn to the History of an Invention report she was actually working on. Tucker had half-assed his earlier in the day about the palm pilot. Danny had not done his. “Like, it’s all crackpot theory, right? Do ghosts even follow math?”

“I think they follow some math. It’s not magic that makes the ecto-bazookas work, or the Fenton-phones work, or—well the thermos DIDN’T work—until I made it work.”

The unspoken thing Danny had been not-quite-saying hung in the air. He said it this time.

“So I’m wondering if I did it. Like the Fenton thermos. And now maybe they’re gonna do the math all over and realize the missing piece of the equation is one half-ghost son.”

“Well the order is backwards, for starters,” Sam said. “Thermos worked because you pumped ghost-energy into it. How would you have done that to the portal? You were human when you walked in.”

“Sam’s right. What do you think you brought to the table exactly? Button-slapping abilities?” Tucker loaded up the next level. “It was their portal, and their math, and it worked. There’s a million-billion kinds of math and they probably just forgot one thing.”

Tucker took a headshot and died. Mechanically, he handed the controller back to Danny.

“Yeah, probably.”

“Ask Vlad. He’s got a portal.”

“Like Vlad’s gonna tell me.”

“Just promise to be his diligent little son minion or whatever. He’s easy. Wait, let me do the next level. You know I like the cyberpunk levels.”

“It’s not your turn,” Danny said, reeling the controller just out of Tucker’s wiggling grasp.

“I’ll let you do two in a row for your next turn.”

Danny knocked Tucker away, distracted just long enough for a zombie cyberbeam to launch from the horizon and take him out through the head.

The screen washed sepia. Danny stared at it. You died.

…

Danny hadn’t really meant to stay the night at Tucker’s place. They’d just gotten really far in Man vs. Zombie, and Sam had gone home, and Danny was just resting his eyes between his turns with the controller.

So when he woke to the bright strip of sunlight beaming into his eyes through the attic skylight, his first thought was Fuck.

He was awake, here, morning, school. Fuck he had not actually done his History of Invention report, despite the stupid amount of grief it had already caused him this weekend. He pulled his face out of the armrest, now pineapple-patterned from the decaying leather, and pawed for his phone fallen on the floor. If it was still early enough, he could maybe still afford to desperately half-ass something before sixth period science.

He flipped his phone open. A text from Jazz. “Don’t come home. Make up an excuse.”

“…Fuck,” Danny whispered, through the sensation of his heart launching itself into his throat.

He scrambled upright, whole body shaking at the mercy of adrenaline shock so soon after being pulled from dead sleep. His mouth was dry, teeth unbrushed, wearing his old clothes from yesterday, report not done, Don’t come home, Don’t come home, Don’t come home.

They knew. He’d fucked it up. Somehow they knew. The math. Something. And it had to be with guns blazing, because Jazz would not send that text if they’d taken the “We accept you” angle.

Were they coming for him? On their way here? Tracking by his phone? Did they like Mrs. Foley enough to not SWAT-slam her against the wall when she opened the door for them so they could come capture the ghost pretending to be their son?

Fuck.

Danny was upright. Danny was standing. Danny was shaking. Danny wasn’t actually sure what the next thing was he was supposed to do.

Tucker’s ball of blankets rustled from the couch. “Mmph?” he asked, articulately.

“I have to. Go deal with my parents, I think,” Danny said, because any plan felt a little better than no plan. “I think they know.”  

Danny was a ghost. Danny was gone. Tucker sat upright, alone, blinking himself awake. He was staring at the You Died sepia screen still displayed on monitor, now burnt into the plasma of the tv.

…

Danny paused with his human hand slick on the Fenton front door. The gears in his mind turned as his plan quickly unraveled into no-plan. He had no plan, right? What was his plan? Handle this Man vs Zombie style—open the front door ready to dodge wide, because both zombies and parents liked to camp behind closed doors with bazookas at the ready?

“—absolutely absurd, and entirely unscientific, with no probability of being true. It goes against everything we know about neurology.”

Oh, Jazz. Was Jazz enough of a bazooka-deterrent? Probably not. Knowing his parents.

Danny turned the knob. His heart hammered. If bazookas, dodge left.

The first thing he noticed was in fact the no-bazookas. It was what he was most looking for. And so it was Jazz’s expression he did not notice until second—whites of her eyes wide, snapped to Danny, with a look that would be accusatory if worry hadn’t won that battle. Her cheeks were pale. Her hair was unbrushed.

He noticed his parents third. Compulsively, he rocked back onto his right foot, still outside the doorway, still outside the threshold of the Fenton family household.

Seeing his parents tired was of absolutely no shock-value to Danny. It was at least a twice-per-month tradition to see them haul themselves up from the basement sweaty and glaze-eyed at 7am, babbling excitement about some new ecto-spectral-hoozy-whatsits whose concept had shimmed into their minds at 8pm and now existed, fully operational, 11 nonstop hours later.

So it wasn’t the exhaustion on their face. It wasn’t the stagnant smell of sweat or the paleness of their faces or the stains on their clothes.

It was the way they looked at him. Like their whole world had fallen apart with his foot passing over the doorstep.

“Danny,” Jazz said, choked, a break in the silence. “Things are…! A little weird here. So maybe, if you wanna just get to school, I’ll finish clearing up—there’s a misunderstanding Mom and Dad have with their math. I am state finalist in Math League and have been studying college-level calculus in preparation for school applications so I’ve offered to help them fix their math, or prove to them—”

“Danny,” Maddie said, an echo of Jazz, but it felt worse. Danny scanned her hands for anything pointed enough to be a weapon. They were empty. “Danny can I just ask you something honestly, just quickly? Jazz is right. I’m just trying to clear up an issue with our math. And I won’t be mad. Whatever the answer is, I won’t be mad. I just want an honest answer.”

She stepped closer. Danny fought the urge to match her with a step backwards. Her eyes roved over him in a starved way, looking for something.

“Were you there when the portal turned on?” she asked.

“No, I wasn’t,” Danny answered. He wasn’t sure what to do with his face to make it look convincing. “It just. It needed some time to boot up, or something, right? That’s what you two said.”

“That was our guess ,but we don’t really know. The security tapes are wiped. We tried to make them EMF-resilient but a very, very strong blast of EMF could still corrupt them.”

“Yeah. I mean the portal’s gonna do that, right? When it turned on? Ripping open the Ghost Zone that’s—gotta be huge EMF.” Danny’s focus bounced between his mother’s eyes. “Just a guess. I really don’t know. I was in bed, already, whenever the portal started working.”

Left eye. Right eye. Why was she looking at him like that? Like she was sad. Was this part a trick? Make Danny let his guard down, go hey Mom need a hug? and that’s when the bazooka-whipping starts? It made his ribs feel scratchy. Stop looking at me like that.

“Have you felt anything weird at all, since the portal started working? Any gaps in your memory? Any parts of you that don’t feel right? Is there any part of you that feels like it’s changed in a way you can’t explain?”

She reached a hand out. Danny instinctively recoiled.

“Uh, yeah. They taught us about this in health class. They call it ‘puberty’ there.”

“Danny,” Jack said, and his voice was scratchy from disuse, from a long and uncharacteristic amount of time spent not speaking. “Did you die in the machine?”

A beat. A moment. Like when the zombie sends a hammer through your head.

“I’M alive!” Danny declared with a crack in his voice, with hands slammed to his chest. “Look at me. What are you talking about?”

“It’s the only math that works,” Jack continued, his words like chalk, his voice too dead. He looked too much at Danny. “If one of you two walked into the portal, and died in it. And I don’t think it was Jazz.”

This was bad. This was weird. Danny had ghost powers, sure. ‘They can’t kill me I’m already dead,’ was a funny joke sometimes. But it was funny as a joke. He was a ghost sham, really. A faker, a LARPer, whatever Tucker had called it. He was a human who was just kind of a freak now. More of a freak than he already was. He looked dead, for someone who was super-duper still alive.

He’d buried that worry, already. They weren’t allowed to bring it back.

“Look… at me!” Danny continued, mouth dry. He threw his arms wide. “Look how super alive I am! I’m awake! Using energy! Eating food and sleeping with my human body. I’ve got flesh and blood and bones and stuff! I’m not a ghost-expert but ghosts don’t have that.”

This was weird. This made Danny feel like something was scratching to get free from inside his rib cage. It twisted his entrails. Sure Tucker and Sam had thought he was dead, for those first horrible few minutes, but then he changed back to a human and the nightmare ended there. Jazz never called him dead. The ghosts called him freak and halfa and whelp, but never ‘one of them.’ That was his whole thing: being different from the ghosts who became ghosts by something so normal as dying.

He was not dead.

“If you died in the portal, your ghost wouldn’t have been ripped out of your body. It would have been allowed to stay, and then you’d be…” Jack hesitated. “I don’t know what you’d be, but you wouldn’t be alive.”

“Dad,” Jazz said, and she stood herself bodily between Danny and Jack. “What an absolutely messed up out-of-line thing to say to your son! You don’t know that! Dad you’re tired, and just because you weren’t able to solve your math problem in one night doesn’t mean you get to treat Danny like this! I said I’d help you with your math! Now apologize to Danny.”

Jazz looked over her shoulder to Danny, her expression falling at the sight of Danny’s face.

Danny backed up over the door threshold. He shook his head. “I’m not comfortable with this. This is weird. I’m gonna go to school now.”

“Danny, I promise they’re just—”

Danny turned on heel. No backpack, no change of clothes. He took to the street without a single school supply and moved, and moved.

It was supposed to be guns-blazing. Molecule by molecule. Headshot you died. He’d prepared for that this whole time, in the shower, in his dreams, in his daydreams in class. He’d duck and dodge and explain himself over and over until they understood him.

Danny wasn’t sure he was capable of explaining himself anymore.

…

Danny knocked the heavy iron knocker. He was in ghost form, as a threat. He wondered if he still smelled like yesterday’s sweat now that he wasn’t wearing yesterday’s clothes. Now he was wearing the clothes he died in.

No one answered the door. Danny phased himself in.

“Vlad!” he called, and his words echoed along the slope of the two elaborate winding staircases that twirled and met at the top like caduceus. Gold-plated banisters. A security camera buried somewhere in the ceiling, no doubt.

Danny phased into the library. His eyes roved the three stories of bookshelves wrapping the perimeter like a sheath. Gaudy. Audacious. Like Vlad would ever read that much. Danny racked his brain because some something in here was the secret to opening Vlad’s laboratory. Jazz had told him. Some gold something to be touched, and pressed down, or pushed up? Or it opened to a button. Or a keypad, maybe.

Danny spat a curse. He was being stupid. He was frazzled. He wasn’t thinking straight.

He dove into the floor below. Intangibility was the only key he needed.

The sheetrock was cold, even when he wasn’t touching it. The darkness was so piercing it made static jump in his vision, some weird trick of the brain Jazz had explained where, in the absence of all light, the brain hallucinates its own. It came with a sensation of pressure against his eyeballs, and a complete disorientation of direction, and he simply just kept going down.

Danny emerged into a wash of cold air. Cold like metal was cold. The low lights of dials and clicking machines were bright to his eyes previously dunked into the pitchest nothing. He drank it in, eyes grateful for light no matter how little, inner ear grateful for orientation that had left his head swimming and his stomach tight.

His feet tapped down to the stone ground, and the air that breezed past him was chilled.

“Vlad!” Danny called again.

Nothing.

He moved by the floor lighting, which ran in trim along the perimeter of the laboratory rooms. It lit things from beneath, made machines gaunt and specimens into sharp geometries of darkness and flesh. It made the Fenton lab feel warm in a way Danny had never considered it warm.

His feet clacked. His breath puffed.

“Vlad!”

He followed light, followed a wash of green miasma percolating from some far room and catching on the particulate of water and dust that disturbed with the air currents. Danny disturbed it too, walking through, wearing its shade of green which his shadow robbed from the wall behind him.

“Vlad. I swear to god Vlad.”

He crossed the threshold of the portal room, where the dusting of green ambience became a medallion wash of golden-green coating, painting every surface of the room. The Fenton lab was one single expansive room, portal anchored into the far wall and facing all the dead and empty air in front of it. This was different. A much smaller room, walled on all sides save for the simple doorway, and each surface reflected the color back deeper and heavier. It was like a fishtank in the wall of an aquarium lit radiant aqua-blue by all the lights within, but green instead, pure ecto-green.

Danny approached the open portal. He stared into its placid swirls, mesmerized, and scared of it, in a way he hadn’t previously felt about the portal in the Fenton basement.

“Ah, seems the cat is a good mouser after all, it dragged you in my boy.” The words came sing-song. They came spine-shivering for Danny, who felt them like hot breath on his shoulder and reeled back, pivoted, fire crackling to life in his palms.

Vlad stood at the doorway, a solid 20 steps from Danny.

“Vlad.”

“So I’ve been hearing.”

“I need you to explain the portal.”

“Ah, I see you’ve spoken to your parents.” Vlad stepped in, washed in the ecto-green which muddied his ruby red eyes. He held his hands behind his back, cape trailing, a smirk on his fanged face. “Last I heard they weren’t taking the news very well.”

“What news. What did you tell them?”

“Me? Nothing. In fact, very kindly for your sake I even tried to drive them away from the answer but… We know how stubborn your parents can be.”

“What answer?”

“That you’re dead, Daniel.”

Shock washed like ice down Danny’s spine. It sent prickles like spider legs across his skin.

“Well, I suppose there’s still chance for some doubt. It could be Jazz. She could take the fall for you, if there’s any benefit to that at all.”

“I’m a halfa. We are halfas,” Danny said.

“A silly made up word by a silly child,” Vlad mused, and the light smile left his lips. “We are dead.”

“I’m not dead,” and Danny’s words were small, and they were childish.

“You are. I am. Embrace it. It’s nicer this way.” Vlad took a few steps closer, lionously tall in his saunter, feet clacking the ground. “It’s very freeing. After you’ve died already what is there left to fear?”

“I’m alive.”

“You’re a dead body with its soul still stuffed inside it like a Christmas goose. A lot of things in your body don’t work anymore, but ghosts don’t work right anyway and it is, for all its defiance of nature, a perfectly symbiotic relationship.” Vlad’s smile brushed his lips again, warm. “It’s nice to share this with you. Isn’t it nice to share things with people?”

Danny’s heart was beating too fast in his chest, and it was a human heart, a human beat. “I’m not dead,” he declared.

“Your wounds heal quickly because the ghost piloting you only needs to remember form. It stacks cells back into place and calls it good. You’ll endure fatal injuries as you no doubt have many times in your fights, but they’re trivial because physical trauma is not what kills a ghost. It’s what creates one. You’ll necrotize in places but it’s okay, because you’ll carry on, and it will bother you only if you let it bother you, if you’re too sentimental about the puppet you’re still inside.” Vlad closed in closer, neck craning to appraise Danny. “Ghosts love a facsimile of life so you will keep your heart pumping, your lungs breathing. You’ll eat and you’ll sleep but you’ll find you won’t perish if you don’t. It just won’t be a good time if you want to keep occupying your flesh form. Take better care of it. You won’t get another.”

“You’re psychotic. And you’re wrong.”

“I have all the math to prove it.” Vlad leered from over Danny’s shoulder. He circled the boy, knocking Danny’s balance, who still on a hair trigger stood ready to fight. The light from the ghost portal painted Vlad’s face like the phases of the moon as he moved. “Did your parents explain that part to you properly?”

“No, because they didn’t get the math right.”

“Oh they’ve gotten it right. This time. It only took them two decades longer than it took me.” The portal rolled like static, and its fizzling pattern crashed like an ocean wave across Vlad’s cape. “No amount of man-made power is sufficient to drag the entire fabric of the Ghost Zone up against our own, tear a hole through it, and anchor it to a stable frame. It requires something with a pull on the Ghost Zone, a strong pull, and that thing is a human life at the moment of an extraordinarily violent death.”

Danny backed a step away from the portal, from Vlad, but the walls boxed him in. He swam in its green light.

“You stepped in and you turned the portal on, that’s what you thought, right, Daniel? Pressed a careless button on the inside and now here we are. Silly parents for not finding that button first.” Vlad’s face hardened. “No. Jack and Maddie knew about the button. Maddie explained it to me over the phone. What engineer designing and building their own portal would forget the location of the on button? They’d pressed it from the outside. It didn’t work. And so you pressing the button was not the important part. It was you dying to the electrocution that clicked everything right into place. And while your ghost should have been torn from your lifeless corpse and pulled to the Ghost Zone you instead pulled the Ghost Zone here. Your ghost got to stay put. You opened the portal. You became the undead freak you are. And now we’re here.”

Danny’s eyes bounced between Vlad’s. His cheeks felt hot, like he was enduring an accusation of wrongdoing. And he had none of the knowledge to refute what was being said.

“You’re messing with me. You’re wrong,” Danny shot back. He thrust an arm out, drenched in the fog of the portal. “If the portal needs a person to die in it then explain your portal! Are you so casual about it? You killed someone? You’re admitting to murder and you think I won’t do anything about it?”

Anger flashed like a storm across Vlad’s face. His aura swelled, pressing down with a pressure on Danny as Vlad halted and cast his shadow clear across Danny, coating the back wall. “The killing of other people with the wanton carelessness of half-baked machines is the domain of Jack and Jack alone. I’ve brought no such harm onto anyone else.”

“Then how do you have this portal?”

“This portal? This portal that I’ve had for 20 years? Which I opened when I solved the piece of Jack’s broken math that he was never able to solve until this morning?” Vlad stalked closer, hunched, imposing. Danny stepped back. “My boy Daniel you’ve had it so easy. You had it so simple. A truly clean break. So clean so lucky. A single lethal dose of electricity and it was already over. I’m jealous. You never even suffered.”

Vlad stepped closer, striking distance, arm extended. Danny flinched, but Vlad only swept his cape around, clenched in his fist, and pivoted to approach the portal.

“Put out of your misery before it even started.” Vlad slammed his fist against the portal rim, and the explosive metallic clang bounced through the rooms. His laugh belted out. “I should have been so lucky.”

19. Vlad Masters was 19. A sophomore in college. A man actively in the midst of sabotaging his social life to chase a woman who was already deeply in love with Vlad’s best friend who he hated more every day. He wasn’t sure what he ever enjoyed about Jack’s bumbling ineptitude, or his loudness, his brashness, his poor social skills, his bad breath, his mullet. Maybe Vlad had gravitated to Jack because deep down he loved how superior it made him feel to surround himself with the likes of Jack Fenton… And now, he hated how enraged it made him to watch Maddie’s eyes skip past his to focus on Jack Fucking Fenton again and again and again and again.

But surely there was hope still. Surely it was a matter of time before the rose-tinted glasses fell away and Maddie saw bumbling and inept and every such word in the basket when she looked at Jack. There’d come the day she tested the waters with Vlad to complain about one of Jack’s little quirks, and they’d find solace together in all the things Vlad was that Jack wasn’t, and all the things Vlad had that Jack didn’t. And he’d be gone, back to bumble elsewhere, and it would be just them.

The day didn’t come. It wouldn’t come. And maybe Vlad needed to change himself for Maddie. If he listened to her and Jack’s ghost ramblings, if he could put Jack in his place and solve the things Maddie couldn’t, it would show her. She’d understand.

Because that was the thing about Jack. His math was never right. Enduring Calculus 1 with Jack was all it took to prove this to Vlad. How many times he’d caught a single error on a single line for Jack, like a dropped stitch that would unravel the whole sweater. Every problem, without exception. Jack only passed on his homework grade with Vlad’s help. On his tests, he failed.

So Vlad was staring at Jack’s equation, full of bogus math, which Vlad knew was wrong because Jack had penned it, and Vlad had not yet fixed it himself.

“I’m telling you Jack, it won’t work.”

“Bogus V-man it totally will!”

It wouldn’t. But Vlad wouldn’t fix it for him. Not yet. Vlad would let Jack embarrass himself first, fully in front of Maddie, watching on, judging. Vlad would solve it for her. After. Once Jack had made a fool of himself for the hundredth time since college began.

He leaned in to study the portal frame. The gears were turning in his head already. He didn’t hear the whir of the power source catch.

…

19. Vlad Masters was 19. A tube ran down his nose and into his lungs, supplying oxygen for lungs which were failed by a diaphragm sloughing itself away. He was poisoned from the outside-in. Irradiated by ecto-energy none of the nurses or doctors could fully understand. It damaged his DNA. First obvious in the skin of his face where the blisters of his ecto-acne drained and sloughed. “Acne” was the wrong word. An unkind word. They were boils where the blast had cooked his skin, microwaved his cells. The skin on his body blackened over time. Organs decayed. Vlad Master read a lot about radiation sickness. He knew everything he had to expect.

Jack and Maddie had stopped visiting. They were dating now. It was on their last visit they’d told him, and Vlad hadn’t taken it well, and he’d perhaps burned a few bridges with the words he chose. It was deserved. Considering what Jack did to him.

He’d found the error in Jack’s math, by the way. Errors, but all the rest paled in impact compared to the lambda. The ecto-energy. The necessary ecto-potential to pull the Ghost Zone here. How stupid. How idiotic. For Vlad to die to a machine so botched in its construction.

When Vlad was released from the hospital, it was not because they’d cured him. It had been because there is a certain cruelty in making a 19-year-old live the last of his days bedded down in a white-walled room with just his books, his equations, and no one coming to visit anymore.

He was released with bedrest instructions. Vlad did not heed them. In his beater car, every cell of his body aching, he drove. At the materials lab, he disconnected his oxygen tank and moved through the lab space with the tube dangling loose from his nostril. No one was Vlad Masters’ friend. No one cared to stare long at his ugly boil-ridden face. No one stopped him as he hauled sheet metal, and supports, and bolts and wiring and resistors and power tools, checked out with a valid student ID, from the lab. The lab inventory room would not be seeing these back.

It was a prep bunker, buried beneath a vast lot of empty Wisconsin land, that Vlad hauled his materials. He and Jack had discovered it as freshmen. Poked through its bowels with flashlights and quipped and laughed over how eerie it was. Deep beneath the sheetrock, boxy rooms carved out of walls of stone. Shelf upon shelf of dusty canned foods, and shotguns sealed in cases fastened to the walls. The locks had rusted with water damage.

His arms ached until they throbbed, dragging beams of metal across the stone floor, scratching chalk-mark stains into the ground. His skin sloughed, inflamed, burning to the touch. Vlad didn’t bother to rest, because these injuries would never heal anyway. He hauled, and welded, and wired up his circuitry and resistors with a care and caution Jack would never have bothered to practice. He checked it against his math by flashlight. He took naps on the cold stone floor and woke with deep purple bruises on every part of his body that had pressed against the ground.

His appetite left him. His lungs filled with mucus. The boils on his face had spread down to his chest, his shoulders. The touch of his shirt chafed them, so he worked without one, a figure of skeletal rib ridges jutting from tight skin that bloomed with the projection of his shadow against stone walls.

He knew why Jack’s math was wrong.

A silly mistake. A stupid mistake. Anyone with half a mind for the paranormal should have realized the Ghost Zone was not so easily at your beck and call. Not without chumming the water with something it would rise to feast on.

And in that violent death, what would happen to the ghost? It would stay, wouldn’t it? If it successfully anchored the Ghost Zone to the portal it stood inside, then by definition the ghost would stay?

And was that death? Yes, in a way. But it was a death one would get to keep living. As opposed to the death Vlad was headed for, whose coldness and finality scared Vlad more than anything he could put to words.

He’d fixed the oxygen tank back to himself. He couldn’t work without it, hauling it about on a little dolly with him, back and forth, while he fetched and affixed the last of the plating he needed to craft the frame of his silent soulless portal.

He’d stolen a generator from the sports storage shed. It was meant to be enough to power the portable stadium lights they hauled onto the fields for late games, an absolute obelisk meant to cast light across an entire football field.

Surely, it contained enough power to kill one simple human.

Vlad fixed the last bolt in place. Jumper cables clamped generator to portal wiring. It was a pure skeleton. A paltry thing, like the bones of something already picked clean. Built in haste, sloppy, by a 19-year-old whose fingers were too inflamed to clutch a wrench any longer.

He could have asked Jack for help. Maddie. But he wouldn’t let them have this. They had to solve the portal on their own. They didn’t get to know his hard work. They did not get to save him.

Vlad would save himself.

A ghost anchored to a body. What was that? What monster was that?

Vlad moved. He coughed mucus from his lungs. It made it hard to breathe. So he moved slowly, and crouched, bony jutting angles, painted blotchy purple, all bruises and skin, sloughing away.

He crouched, because the portal he’d constructed was not large enough to hold him standing up. He bowed inside it, a small thing, a pathetic man of little life. He wheezed. He hurt. His eyes burned.

And he held in his hands the remote to flip the generator switch, and connect the circuit, and bring to life the math Vlad had so kindly corrected out from under Jack’s grip.

Vlad did not. Because throwing the switch would kill him.

Deep in his animal brain, his dying brain, he knew this intimately. It filled him with a drowning fear like paralysis. He did not want to die.

He would die if he did nothing.

It would be this one throwing of the switch which could save him. Which would burst the portal to life right through his heart. Electrocute it out of its rhythm, slaughter him like a pig on spot and… maybe… hopefully… drag the Ghost Zone here. And whatever he was, dead, would stay.

And whatever he was, dead, would be better than this.

Vlad held the remote in his clammy hands.

And from within the humming skeleton of his portal, his fingers caressed the on button.

…

The portal sung its happy contentment, mused in its healthy green aura, staining all the slabs of rock wall. Danny swiveled his head, recognizing now the bunker this had been before it had been a laboratory.

“I’ve harmed no one, Daniel,” Vlad concluded, his voice too measured for the horrors it had spilled forth. Too calm against the blossoming terror its words had wrought across Danny’s face. “I opened the portal to save myself. You’re lucky, Daniel. It was because of my fast thinking that your father is not a murderer. I took that honor from him.” Vlad’s head tilted to the side, suddenly sympathetic. “Although, you’ve maybe made the title whole for him.”

Vlad reached out, Danny shot away.

“Dad didn’t kill me,” he choked. “I did this to myself.”

“How lucky Jack is, to always dodge responsibility for his actions.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Of course you don’t. If you believed me, you’d have to accept you’re not wriggling out of this. There’s no denial you can bring home to your parents. If you believe me, then this is reality.” Vlad smiled, a playful glint to his fangs. “I suppose I should have more sympathy. I quite like being this way. It is so much nicer than wasting away to death, like I was. But you. You were healthy before this. This killed you, and it didn’t save you from anything.” Vlad cocked his head. “Such tragic fates, both of us, due to the carelessness of Jack Fenton.”

Danny shook his head. His heart beat—his human heart beat—all too fast in his throat. It made him sick. It made him feel like the walls were closing in around him. This was Vlad’s doing. Vlad’s trap. Vlad’s prison he’d been forced to join.

"That's not true. I'm not like you."

“Of course not,” Vlad said, sweetly. “How sweet denial is. Deny it if you like. Call me a liar. But if you ever want to come to terms with what your father did to you, consider coming to me. I understand you in a way no one else will.”

Danny gave no response. He gave no acknowledgement of Vlad’s words. He took to the air, phased himself up through the sheetrock that had been packed atop the doomsday prepper bunker. Up through the mansion, which had been built atop the portal beneath it, and not the other way around. Into the open sky, he breathed fresh air not stagnant and damp beneath the ground, bathed in light pure white from the sun and not tainted green like the bowels underneath him.

And he flew back toward the portal that made him, leaving Vlad with the portal from which he’d made himself.

...

(inspiration post from @ciestess)

[illbegottenfaith]

Masterlist

all works are theodore nott x fem!reader

drabbles

the one where theo asks you out to a wedding (fluff)💙⚡️(Part 1)

the one where you make theo cry (fluff, comedy) 💘

fics

kiss me better, love 💘💙

“You never mean to, but here we are.” You cross your arms. “Third time in two weeks, Theo. This is getting ridiculous. Should I hire a nurse for our dates? A medic? Do you need to start taking my clothes off under medical supervision? Is that what we've come to?"

Theo glares at you (or the shadowy figure he was mostly sure was you), trying to pull his attention away from the stinging pain. “Oh, don’t start - ”

“You don’t think before you do things.”

Theo groans. “I think plenty.”

“No, you rush plenty. Really, it’s a miracle you still have all your limbs -”

He rolls his eyes. “Oh, here we go.”

as the two of you stumble into bed after a Valentine's dinner date, theo realises it's not fair how much he loves you (fluff, bickering as foreplay)

you must have just read it in my eyes💘💙

Without looking back, you reached behind and wordlessly pulled Theo along so he wouldn’t lag behind, all while your conversation with Ivy continued unbroken and unfettered.

It was such a small thing. Thoughtless, instinctive. You hadn’t even glanced at him.

But Theo had looked at you, and for some reason, he couldn’t look away.

over the years, Theo realises just how much you mean to him, bit by bit (fluff)

for the rose and the pearl 💙 (Part 2)

For a moment, you let yourself sink into it.

For a moment, it’s easy to forget.

But then the thought creeps in—quiet, insidious.

I’m not that girl.

attending Mattheo's wedding with Theo makes you realise you're not the girl he could truly build a happy life with (angst)

sweet?! (Part 2)

"In short," Theo continued, as if you hadn't spoken, "you want me to treat her like I do you."

He tilted his head.

"Why is that? Do you feel...betrothed to me? Or, perhaps, you consider me your boyfriend? Since we're being honest, and all."

you may not be the one dating theodore nott but you'd be damned if you let anyone think of him as sweet (fluff, slight angst, unacknowledged pining)

unadulterated loathing (Part 1) ⚡️

"She's doing this to me and she's doing it on purpose."

Mattheo had creased his forehead.

"Like a...like a hex?"

"No," Theo had said, distractedly scratching the hive that had appeared on the back of his hand. "It's worse than a hex. My pulse is rushing, my head is reeling, my face is flushing..."

"...oh," Mattheo had said, realisation dawning upon him. "I get it. It's lo-"

"That's it, Mattheo." Theo had interjected. "You're absolutely right."

"I am?"

"Yes, exactly. Loathing is what this is. Loathing." He had swivelled around, hatefully fixing his gaze on where you were laughing over some undoubtedly inane subject matter over butterbeer with your friends. "Unadulterated loathing."

yours and theo's feelings for each other evoke a deeply visceral physical reaction in both of you, for which there can be only one explanation (enemies to lovers, banter, mentions of injury)

for cryin' out loud! (miniseries) (ongoing)

...and a bruise underneath* (Part 2) ⚡️

His eyebrows disappeared into his hair.

"Didn't want me to get mad?" Theo echoed incredulously. "Honestly, L/N," he said sharply, looking more than a little peeved, "what did you think I was going to do?"

"I don't know," you wailed, closer to tears than ever, "break up with me?"

Theo opened his mouth to respond before closing it again. He furrowed his brow, mouthing indecipherable half-words as if trying very hard to wrap his head around what you were saying.

you can't help becoming distant as your relationship with theo starts feeling like an open wound (angst, happy ending, comfort)

walking away with your kiss on my cheek... (Part 1) ⚡️

"So...two weeks."

"Mhm." You weren't the type of couple to explicitly express affection, especially of the vulnerable kind. You'd miss him, of course, even if you didn't say it. Would he miss you? You shook your head internally. No, you decided, you wouldn't ask. You'd only seem clingy and that wasn't the kind of couple you were. "Be good, have fun."

He adjusted the strap of his duffle bag. You fixed the collar of his jacket. You wondered if he'd tell you about Katherine before he left. From somewhere else in the Great Hall, one of his friends called him over. He pressed a final chaste kiss to your cheek. You watched him walk away with a hollow sort of feeling in your stomach. Merlin forbid you express any kind of attachment to your boyfriend.

He glanced back at you one last time, fidgeting with the strap of his bag, and just like that, he was gone.

Gone.

He didn't say a word about Katherine.

your relationship with theo starts to sour as you begin to suspect him of keeping secrets from you (angst, miscommunication, established relationship)

in sweetness 💙⚡️

"I'm fine, really," he had repeated, as he dragged your hand down to his chest, eyes lidded. "I'll sleep it off."

You had pressed your lips into a thin line, highly conflicted over how much you wanted to argue with a clearly sick patient. Your other hand had drifted to his scalp as you had distractedly started raking your fingers through his hair. Theo's lips had parted as he sighed in relief, melting further into his pillow.

"Just...just stay. For a while." His eyes had been fully closed by then. "I get the worst dreams when I'm sick."

You had run your thumb along your clasped hands. "What do you dream about?"

Theo had paused. "Terrible things," he had said after a moment, in a pleasant, light voice, as if you were merely discussing the weather. "Terrible things that I can't change."

He had no idea.

visiting theo's childhood home grants you a deeper understanding of his inner workings (angst, happy ending, friends to lovers)

merry christmas, please don't call ❄️

"I just - I just feel like lately...all we do is fight." You hated how small your voice sounded. You flinched as the memory of your last fight insistently pressed on barely-healed wounds. I don't hate you, you had said. I don't - I could never. No. I could never hate you, Theo. Over and over, you had repeated it like a mantra. What had you done all that for? Why did you care so much?

"Tough luck, Y/N," Theo said, his voice bouncing off the marble walls. "This is what couples do. They fight."

You drew your knees to your chest, trying to regulate your breathing. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. "I'm sick of it, Theo. I really am. Aren't you sick of it?"

one year on, you look back on the fight that ended yours and theo's relationship (angst, no happy ending)

can I take your order? ❄️🎂

Ivy paid, and the two of you found a table in the middle of the shop to wait at. You couldn't stop kicking yourself over the interaction. That was twice you'd made a fool of yourself in front of him now. Once your drinks were ready, Ivy fetched them. When she handed you yours, you turned the cup around in your hand. It felt like any other drink. You turned it a little more and your heart skipped a beat. There was your name scrawled in black ink, and at the end was a slightly untidy, yet unmistakable, heart.

"Aww," Ivy crooned, peeking over, "he likes you."

"Shut up," you mumbled, trying to hide your burning face. Still, when she wasn't looking, you ran a thumb over his writing, memorising every careless flick of his marker.

you get off on the wrong foot with the new barista at your hometown's coffee shop, but even your off-putting behaviour isn't enough to deter him (coffee shop au, fluff, one-sided reluctant acquaintances to lovers)

maybe stay here forever ❄️ 💙

"Don't," you whined, dragging his hand back to where it was a moment ago. "Let Enzo do it. We don't get to see enough of each other as it is."

Theo sighed. "So you're just never going to let me leave?"

"I can't help it," you said, "I like the way you speak. I love hearing you talk." You rested your forehead against his, your eyes fluttering close. "Promise you'll never quit talking to me."

"Done," he murmured against your lips, a hand sliding to the small of your back.

the holidays have you feeling sentimental over yours and theo's relationship (established relationship, domestic bliss, descriptions of grief and anxiety, angst)

spend your cookie dough dough dough ❄️⚡️

"Right," Theo said tersely, once he had planted you firmly back inside the tower, with a look that told you he thought you were being absolutely ridiculous, "I'll just give this to my other girlfriend, then."

"Theo -"

"No, no, I get it. Maybe I've misunderstood our relationship. I'll just shower all my love and affection on some other girl."

You frowned at him impatiently. "Don't sulk, Teddy. I love it, really, I do - "

"Then what's the problem? It's my money to spend as I see fit, Y/N. Maybe - maybe - it's a little pricey, but so what? A guy can't spoil his girl for the holidays?"

you have a hard time being spoiled by your boyfriend, even if it's the holidays (established relationship, fluff, gift-giving (theo's version))

handwritten (miniseries) (ongoing)

Look, he was the one who showed up at the window on his broom, drunk out of his mind.

Drunk??

I know! What was he thinking, risking his neck all the way up there at the Ravenclaw dorms?? It was like he didn't even notice too. I thought I was hallucinating at first, but then I opened the window and nope, that was him, and then I screamed and he nearly fell off his broom so I hauled him inside. He practically faceplanted on the floor. I was terrified - I thought he was poisoned or something, but then I tried to prop him up and he had this dopey look on his face and he reeked of firewhiskey. Ugh, it was so annoying. I don’t want to talk about it.

You know what he said to me? After all that?

I thought you didn’t want to talk about this?

Uh-oh.

Uh-oh?

Uh-oh. Like a goddamn Looney Tunes character.

yours and theo’s story as told through notes passed in class (estranged friends to lovers, newstudent!theo, fluff, slight angst) Part 1 | Part 2

symphonia ix 💙

"What are you doing here?" Theo asked conversationally, keeping his tone light, as if he found strange girls fully-clothed in bathtubs every day. You continued staring at the tiled wall in front of you. You felt rather than heard him crouch closer to you and tentatively hold your wrist, preparing to sling your arm over his neck.

“Let’s get you out of there, hmm?”

You twisted your wrist out of his grip and you felt him retreat minutely. “Get away from me,” you rasped, your voice brittle with disuse.

Theo was no longer able to disguise his stricken tone. "Tesoro, please. You'll feel better once you're dry and warm-"

theo helps you recover from a terrible case of burnout at his family’s lakehouse (brother's bsf!theo, hurt/comfort, descriptions of burnout, self-loathing)

lucky (miniseries) (finished)

“But - why? How? If anything, I’d say you hated me.”

Your lips parted as your brow furrowed. “What gave you that idea?”

“What gave me the - I don’t know, all the scowling? The glaring? The snide remarks? The bodily harm?”

You flushed at the memory of the Potions storeroom incident. You could kind of see his point. “That was one time.”

“You owe me new pants, by the way. New pants and a new di-"

a tussle over a vial of Felix Felicis proves to be strangely enlightening (academic rivals, enemies to lovers, slight angst/yearning) Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

2001*

“Or maybe it’s something else entirely. Perhaps you like having me run after you. Is that where you get off, hmm? The thrill of the chase? Being a tease?”

“I am not a -“ you began hotly, before you caught the mischievous twinkle in his eye. You rolled your eyes. “You’re too cocky for your own good,” you muttered. 

“I thought you like me cocky,” he teased.

theo doesn’t understand what’s holding you back from taking things further (fluff, softcore smut)

bad day ⚡️💙

“Hey, doll.” His nose nudged yours and you finally relented, wrapping an arm around his neck as he kissed you. His face felt cool against your warm forehead, and he smelt pleasantly of some non-descript yet refreshing soap. 

“My neck is killing me,” you mumbled against his lips as you broke apart. Theo leaned back to get a better look at your wan face, distractedly running a hand down your spine.

a visit from your boyfriend perks you up even on the most frustrating of days (established relationship, fluff, comfort)

❄️ - xmas fics 💘 - valentines fics 🎂 - birthday fic! 💙 - author's favourites ⚡️ - top fics