#and if I wouldn't do it for pay I'm certainly not gonna do it for free lmao

[cookinguptales]

just a little psa!

Just got an ask asking me for my feedback on a disabled character they want to write. I'd usually just reply to this privately, but that's not possible with an anon ask and -- I mean, honestly, I get these requests every so often so it's probably not bad to write a PSA about it.

I talk a lot about disability, and some of that is because I want to vent and/or talk about my life experiences, and some of that really is because I want to teach people and help other disabled people feel seen and understood. That said, it can be a really exhausting thing to talk about, both physically and emotionally.

While I actually applaud someone doing research and asking actual disabled people for input while writing disabled characters, and while I desperately want more disabled characters to be written in general, I feel like there are two really important things to keep in mind here:

First of all, you may be asking about a sensitive subject. Like -- for instance, asking a disabled person about tropes they personally do not like may be asking them to remember situations that have been hurtful, frustrating, or actively physically painful. When they talk about disabled characters being moved without their consent, they might be thinking about times it's happened to them IRL, and people think it's okay because they see it in media. (Looking at you, Stardew Valley.) When they talk about disabled characters falling into "good cripple vs. bad cripple" tropes, they might be thinking about how they've felt the need to try and be the former so IRL people do not perceive them as the latter. To a greater or lesser degree, every trope we hate is one that is written in blood. Like... for me, when I think about tropes I really hate wrt disability, my first thought always goes back to seeing Amour in the theater and having to do the walk of shame in front of everyone else in that theater. Feeling like everyone was staring at me hobbling past with my cane, even if they weren't, because we'd just watched a movie about how people with degenerative diseases are better off dead -- but that they also shouldn't be afforded the right to choose how and when that happens. I felt so exposed and so judged and like I'd been judged wanting. I went home and I sobbed. That is what I think of every time I am asked that question. And while I don't always mind talking about those things... it's kind of a lot to ask of me on demand. Some days I feel up to it and some days I don't. That's why I write about it some days and some days I don't. I really do need to be able to control which day is which, though.

Second, and really more importantly -- what you're asking for here has a name. It has a job title. It is consultant work and/or sensitivity editing. In other words, you are asking me for a thing that I am literally paid to do. This is a paid thing that some people do for their entire living. I only do it as a side gig (and only for authors who are my personal friends, see #1) but like. It's something that is a job. I'm a consultant on many subjects, and I'd expect to be paid for my time and expertise when talking about disability just as much as I would when helping an author design a new religious movement or something. (And I went to college for that!) I know that things feel fuzzy in fandom, especially when origific is on the line. Frankly, they kind of do in the professional writing world, too. What favors you ask as a friend or a fellow fan vs. a professional. Where discussion and meta stops and where consultancy starts. All I can say is that it's something that's up to each person's individual boundaries, and if you're going to be asking for free labor, it's something you should probably only be asking of your personal friends. (Though -- I should probably note here that my IRL writing friends pay me when I edit their work. Because I am a professional editor who freelances for trad pubs as well as working one-on-one with authors. I sometimes offer to do it for free as a gift or in return for something they've done for me, but they are mindful that my labor is valuable.)

I don't mean this to seem mean or angry or chastising. I get it. I remember thinking I could just casually ask these things, too, when I was much younger. But... what's a casual question for you often is not a casual answer for the person you're asking, and it's really not a great idea to ask these things of people you don't even know.

(I mean... I assume. You are anonymous. We may know each other well, which I guess is kind of another level of weird to this.)

Anyway, tl;dr, I hope you have a good journey when writing this character, and I really do think that it's a worthy thing to do. But... labor is labor, y'all, even when it comes from some weirdo on tumblr. If I decide to do it for free, that's fine and dandy! But there's a difference between asking a creative to do work for free vs. just enjoying what's freely given.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[prettiestlovergirl]

YOU CAN BE THE BOSS

tw: MDNI; fem!reader; slytherin! reader; unprotected sex (wrap it b4 you tap it); rough sex; degradation kink; hair pulling; dacryphilia; begging; some drinking; dom! mattheo; bratty! reader; french! mattheo; impact play.

concept: you and mattheo have been enemies with benefits for a while now, but after you score higher on a test... he wants to make sure you still remember your place with him ;) song: you can be the boss by lana del rey

a/n: still pushing the french! mattheo agenda bcos bilingual men make me go weak in the knees (and ruin my panties). my french is still shit, they do not teach you kinky pet names in high school french class! so bear with me you guys. enjoy, my lovelies! 𓆩♡𓆪

mattheo riddle was the bane of your existence and the source of all your most recent orgasms.

you couldn't stand each other! he thought you were an insufferable know-it-all and you thought he was a cocky asshole. if it were up to you, you'd have never had to interact with him again.

then, after one late night in the library, it was like a flip had switched on in you both. you still couldn't stand each other, sure, but suddenly you both seemed much more bearable to the other when his cock was bruising your cervix.

and thus began the new phase of your relationship: taunting and teasing each other in public and then fucking out your grievances in private. it was the perfect system, really.

today, you had been particularly insufferable to him. you'd scored exactly two points higher on a charms test and hadn't stopped gloating. you needed to be brought down a peg or two, and mattheo knew just how to do it.

you were both in the common room, the quidditch team having thrown a party to celebrate your house victory in the game against ravenclaw.

you were certainly cocky today and you knew it, your small academic victory had made you a bit giddy. normally, you wouldn't have cared, but mattheo was so annoyed by it, you couldn't help but rub it in! how were you to know that there'd be consequences to your actions?!

when your eyes finally landed on mattheo, he'd been holding a red solo cup and talking with theo in the corner. he looked hot, not that you'd ever tell him that. he didn't need his ego getting any bigger.

you were used to him pouncing on you almost immediately after you spotted him, so when your eyes landed on him and he didn't even look over? you instantly knew that it was him being petty.

well, if he wanted to be petty, two could certainly play that game! he wanted you to come crawling to him and beg him to fuck you? you'd rather die! well, not die, but you know.

mattheo could feel your eyes on him, but he made no effort to look your way or give you any attention. if you wanted him, you had to put in the work tonight. if you wanted to be stubborn, he was more than willing to go home alone and leave you to suffer.

the next hour consisted of you trying to gain his attention in a multitude of ways. you flirted with blaise, danced with theo, even left a perfect imprint of your lipstick on draco, and nothing. little did you know, he kept a tally of every little act for... later use.

he continued to ignore you, despite the fact that he wanted nothing more than to grab you and fuck you right there in front of everybody. you weren't his girlfriend, but you were still fucking his, and you were absolutely gonna pay for your teasing.

after another 20 minutes, you were done. he was sitting back on the couch, the usual picture of cocky and casual that both turned you on more and simultaneously made you want to slap him across the face. it was a fine little line you walked daily.

you walked up to him, arms crossed over your chest as you narrowed your eyes at him. "fine! you win." you hissed, only to be met with his stupid smug smirk.

"i'm sorry? not sure what you mean, ma douce, (my sweet) what exactly did i win?" he questioned, giving you a fake n innocent look. "i win at so much, gonna need you to be more specific."

you should have just walked away. he was too cocky, it made your skin crawl, but fuck you needed him. "this! this stupid little game your playing, you win, i give up, lets go. now." you felt like a child, wanting to stomp your foot on the ground and beg for his stupid attention.

"ah, well, since you asked so nicely." he grinned, taking his sweet time getting off the couch and setting his cup down. he didn't grab your hand or look back to see if you followed him up the stairs; he knew you would.

"you are such a sore fucking loser!" you huffed once the door was closed, making him laugh at your annoyance and frustration. "so fucking dramatic." he smirked, hands already slipping under your skirt to grab your ass.

you moved to kiss him, but he turned his head away, instead choosing to place his lips on your neck. "dick." you whined, nails scraping over the nape of his neck while his teeth sunk harshly into your skin. "who? me. i'm being nice, don't want to ruin your pretty make-up, môme" (brat) he scoffed back, rolling his eyes at your dramatics.

you dug your nails into his skin as retaliation, but it only resulted in him spanking your ass so hard you yelped out. "un tel putain de gosse" (you're such a fucking child) he murmured as he brought his hands up and unbuttoned your school shirt.

his hands moved quickly to push the fabric off your shoulders, but his mouth moved slow and rough as he let his teeth graze over as much of your bare skin as he could. he might have been annoyed with you, but fuck did he love seeing you covered in his work.

you were getting desperate for more and he knew it, the slowness of his actions entirely purposeful. "mattheo, please." you begged, head leaned back as he smirked against your skin. "please, what? you know i like it when you use your words."

"i hate you." you grumbled, hissing lightly at the pain of his fingers digging into your waist. "sorry, 'm sorry!" you huffed, biting your lip before going on. "please fuck me. now." you half begged; half demanded.

"that's more like it." he smirked, spinning you around and smacking your ass once again. "get on the bed, salope (slut). on your stomach" he commanded, and you happily complied. you laid down on the bed, ass up in the air just like he'd told you to.

"putain (fuck), look at you." mattheo sighed, lifting your skirt up with his hands while he dragged your panties down just under your thighs. he used his hands to keep your spread open, admiring your already glistening pussy.

"you've been so cocky all fucking day, flirting around, bragging. what would they all say if they could see you now? all soaked and desperate." he cooed, dragging his thumb all the way through your folds.

you whined a bit, hips attempting to grind against his hand the best you could before his other hand came back up and spanked you harshly. "gotta stay still, ma douche (my sweet). don't wanna see your pretty little head get hurt." he teased, rubbing over your warm skin.

"s-sorry." you nodded, instantly whining as he pulled away from you. you kept facing the wall, but you could hear his belt being undone and him stripping right behind you.

mattheo groaned as he wrapped his hand around his cock, moving it up and down a few times as he admired the view of you all ready for him.

you wiggled your hips a bit, desperately waiting for him to put you out of your misery and fuck you. he chuckled at your desperation, smacking his cock against your ass just to hear you gasp and moan out.

"tease!" you huffed, grabbing the bedsheets gently as he started to slowly, teasingly, rub his cock through your wet folds. he was just trying to make sure your wetness was spread evenly, that's all! he was being a good fuck buddy.

"fuck, mattheo, please!" you begged, closing your eyes as he continued to tease and mess with your puffy cunt until you were close to tears.

"i had to watch you walk around, flirting with all my fucking friends like a fucking salope. (slut) now you're here, whining and begging for me to do you a favor? doesn't work like that, ma douce (my sweet). you take what i give you, got it?" he asked, spanking you again for good measure.

"'m sorry! 'm sorry, i know, but please, mattheo! need you!" you begged, his hand moving to hold your hip down to keep you from squirming while your arousal dripped all over his cock.

"you gonna be a good girl f'me? if i fuck you real nice, are you gonna keep running your mouth downstairs?" he asked, to which you immediately nodded. "yes! yes, i'll be so good, won't say a word, promise, just please!" you whimpered.

"well, if you promise." he teased, and thrusted all the way into your soaked pussy. he groaned as your walls fluttered around him. you'd fucked dozens of times at this point, but he never got tired of feeling your walls squeeze his cock.

he moved painfully slow, tearing out whines of anguish and frustration from your throat as you gripped his bedsheets. "what's wrong, ma douce (my sweet)? i thought you wanted me to fuck you." he mocked, squeezing your ass tightly.

"please, please, please!" you whined, desperate tears starting to drip down your cheeks as he pulled almost all the way out before slowly and roughly thrust all the way back in. you could feel every inch of him filling you up over and over.

"'m just doing what you asked, ma douce (my sweet). or do you need even more from me?" he scoffed, squeezing and massaging your ass as he continued his slow thrusts.

you instantly nodded, not caring that he was mocking you n calling you greedy. you were too fucking desperate and needy for him and all your tears only seemed to make him want to tease more.

"tellement putain de gourmande." (so fucking greedy) mattheo smirked, punctuating his words with another slap to your ass before finally giving in to your pleads for more and speeding up his thrusts.

"fuck! yes, thank you, thank you, fuck yes!" you moaned, his hips snapping roughly into yours as his free hand gathered your hair into a ponytail, tugging you back and making your back arch.

"such a needy fucking brat, what am i gonna do with you?" he scoffed, looking over your teary face as you continued to moan and whine as he fucked you rough and hard.

you couldn't speak, mind already so hazy from the way his cock stretched your walls. he pulled you into a sloppy kiss, swallowing your moans and squeaks of pure fucking bliss.

he tasted like the malt liquor he'd been drinking from before and you swore you were getting drunk off the taste. he sunk his teeth into your lower lip, groaning against you as he bullied your pussy again and again with no remorse.

your walls fluttered and clenched around his cock, signaling just how close you were to cumming. "mm, please, make me cum, please!" you whimpered against him as he pulled away from your lips, hand still tightly fisting your hair as he fucked you.

"that's it, that's ma douce (my sweet). be a good fucking girl and cum on my cock, yeah? cum all over my fucking cock." he commanded, watching as your legs shook on either side of him while you coated his cock in your creamy slick.

he let go of your hair and you practically collapsed against the bed, face smushing into the sheets. he continued to fuck into you, groaning at how much tighter you felt now that you came.

you whined as the overstimulation started to set in, but you were unable to squirm with your legs all jellylike and his hand keeping you in place. you sobbed in pure bliss, staining his sheets with your mascara and tears.

"fuck, that's it fuck." he grunted, biting his lip harshly as he slowed down. "fuck yourself on me, ma douce (my sweet). make me cum." he demanded, drawing another whiny cry from your lips.

"c'mon, you want to be a good girl, don't you? thought you were sorry for being such a brat, huh? fuck yourself on me." he cooed, kneading your ass while you pouted but nodded and forced yourself back up.

you rocked your hips back against him, working at a sluggish pace as you were still too blissed out to function normally. the alcohol n orgasm n cock still filling you up left your brain numb and blank.

after a few more rocks of your hips, he pulled out of you and started to tug his cock until his cum shot onto your back. he watched as your swollen n gummy cunt leaked with your juices, panting as he watched you collapse and he laid down beside you.

you both laid there until you both caught your breath. your eyes were heavy n you were already starting to doze off when he nudged you. "c'mon, lets get you cleaned up." he smirked, pushing himself off the bed.

"whatever you say..." you mumbled sleepily.

ᵈⁱᵛⁱᵈᵉʳ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵇʸ @ᵐᵘʳᵘᶠᶠⁱⁿ

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FROM LIFE IS STRANGE, SEASON 1 *  assorted dialogue, suggested by ismelodrama, adjust as necessary

everything is a picture waiting for be taken.

you're just jealous of me because i actually do the things you can't.

are you hiding something?

i'm sick of your disrespect. tell me the truth!

i don't want to fight with you anymore. i don't want to fight with anyone anymore.

i was eating those beans!

how the hell did you know about that photo?

always take the shot. my number one rule of photography.

you just don't listen, do you?

there's something weird going on with you.

you've only been here for three weeks and you're already causing conflict.

after this week, you are certainly not a little kid anymore.

not now. i'm contemplating shit.

are you fucking kidding me? this is major bullshit!

i didn't have all the evidence at the time.

we all make decisions we regret.

i'm not gonna make any excuses for my behavior.

i'd put stephen hawking against picasso any day.

it sucks to be dragged into the spotlight.

nobody believes me anyway.

you're exactly the kind of soldier i'd want by my side in a war.

why the hell not?

i almost asked you to hang out.

you should have asked me.

maybe we're too much alike.

i don't believe anything you say. you're full of shit.

eat a dick, [name].

i'll be in the tardis getting my delorean ready.

since you're the mysterious superhero... i'll be your faithful chauffeur and companion.

you don't know who the fuck i am or who you're messing around with.

where'd you get that? what are you doing? come on, put that thing down!

don't ever tell me what to do! i'm so sick of people trying to control me!

so you can't help me?

i told you before that i'll always believe you.

i may be a pest but... i'm a good listener.

you're the bravest person i've ever known.

for every action, there's a reaction.

i'm trying. but you have to understand my position.

i know i can be a pain in the ass... and you've always treated me like a person, not a beta nerd.

why do you want all your friends to die?

oh i see. i'm not important to you anymore.

nobody lectures me. everybody tries though.

do not analyze me! i pay people for that.

hey, that's total slander!

you don't know shit about my father, or me.

you're all fucked!

everybody hates me.

[name]... it's me. i just wanted to say i'm sorry.

i truly am sorry for being such a bastard.

you would have been cool to hang out with.

you might as well choose me.

i'm not perfect, okay?

you have talent, [name].

you don't have to push people out of your way.

thanks for admitting again that i have some talent.

do you think it's, like, fate we're not supposed to be friends?

nobody says we have to be friends.

everybody lies. no exceptions.

i came for all of you.

i'm in a nightmare and i can't wake up.

no wonder they call it a "web." nothing can ever get out.

i wish i could go back in time and erase everything.

just tell me you do have the photograph.

now shut up and listen.

i'm not a real scientist.

i was just happy just being your friend.

[name], i'm so sorry you had to go through all that.

i don't think i can concentrate on going out to the movies.

everybody pretends to care until they don't.

even angels need angels, [name].

i might be naive, but i feel their struggle.

why did you stop me from jumping?

this shit pit has taken everyone i've ever loved.

when a door closes, a window opens... or something like that.

i keep going back in time.

how could there be a more important moment in history?

thank you for trusting me.

hey... be careful out there.

what kind of friend are you?

you never understood me, or what happened to me.

i'll always be alone, thanks to you.

just in case we don't get out of this...

i'm going to make the right choices from now on.

i've been feeling like this might be actually the end of the world.

i hate to say that i'm glad to see you, but i'm glad to see you.

i wish i could stay in this moment forever... but then it wouldn't be a moment.

if that tornado came right now, i would just sit here and watch for a while.

i just feel like escaping.

i have total faith that you'll do the right thing when the time comes.

with great power comes great bullshit.

am i pushing myself too hard?

you like to hurt people, huh?

i'm glad you decided to escort me.

i know this is a bad time, but can i get one picture?

of course i believe you. you're the most amazing person i've ever met, and i'm glad you trust me.

i don't have a fucking clue what's going on.

[toxicanonymity]

Jailbird.

1.5k / Cellmate’s nephew!Joel x inmate f!reader

thank you @iamasaddie for the mood board!!!

PART 2 HERE: Collect calls

Summary: Your cellmate introduces you to her hot nephew and he comes to visitation hours. A/N: Part 1 of 3. This one is due to @beskarandblasters and @wannab-urs and their hilarious list of new joel tropes and @raccoonhandedhottie's nerve to put the idea of doing one in my head. My masterlist WARNINGS: References to sex work, ACAB. Horny phone/visitation talk, mild/non-explicit over-pants masturbation. Mickey Avalon Easter egg.

Without Mabel, you're not sure how you would've survived your first six months in lock-up. You were cuffed for solicitation when a dirty cop wouldn't pay what he owed.  He says he took it easy on you -- you also clawed him and spit in his face.  As soon as you told your new cellmate what really happened, she took a liking to you. She said you should've bitten him in the pecker.   Mabel had been there, done that. She even knew of the cop who put you away.  It wasn't Mabel's first time behind bars. She had the ink and reputation to prove it. Her knuckles said "TAKE NONE" and that was accurate.  By now, nobody gave her any shit. Soon enough, no one gave you any either. 

Mabel had a few photographs on her wall, mostly of her and a younger man. Not a particularly young man, but certainly younger than Mabel. He was probably in his early forties in the pictures, which were five years prior, before she violated her parole. She was giving you a poke and stick tat of a four leaf clover on your hand one day when you asked about the pictures. 

"I was wonderin' when ya were gonna ask about my lil Jojo. I've seen ya lookin' at him, ya little horndog..." 

She let you stammer around in response. "No, I, I'm just, making conversation, wanna get to know you better." 

"It's okay, baby. He's my nephew. All I got left. He's a neat kid."

"He looks happy to be with you–ouch!"

"Don't be a pussy. Oh, he's a real sweet boy. Bet he'd like you, too."

"What makes you say that?"

She looked up from your hand "cause ya got a cunt and you're not bad lookin'," she laughed. "Hey,” she raised her eyebrows. “You ever wanna borrow one of those pics, you let me know, I'll give ya some privacy."

"No thanks."

"Oh, come on. You can fold it so ya don't have to see my pretty face." 

You laughed. 

"Bet he'd dick ya down real good, too."

"What?" You asked, quietly disturbed. 

"He lives with me. Walls are thin." 

"Ah. That must be awkward."

"Not really! We're all human. I could even tell ya the kinda shit he says if ya want. He can get real filthy.  Or shit, I could just give ya his number."

"That's ok."

"Baby, he'd love to hear from ya. Trust me. I've told him all about ya." She put down the needle and picked up a tissue to dab your skin. 

"You have??"

"Oh yeah. Here, I'm gonna write it down." 

She took one of the photos off the wall and wrote his number on the back. Then she folded it in half and winked at you as she handed it to you. 

—----------------

It only took a week of her nagging for you to call “Jojo.” 

Your breath hitched when you heard his smooth, deep voice. The first thing he said was, “Ah, call me Joel,” and you could hear the smile on his face. 

“Oh god, I’m sorry,” you laughed. “Well your aunt’s told me a lot about you, Joel.” 

“Yeah, I can only imagine what,” he faux grumbled. “Real character, ain’t she?”

“I love Mabel,” you blurted out. 

You found yourself opening up about how in some ways, she was more of a mother figure than you ever had.  Joel was easy to talk to. It just came pouring out. You told him about Mabel’s antics and the mischief the two of you got up to. Things you’d steal from the cafeteria. The way Mabel kept the ladies in line who tried to dom you. Next thing you knew, your time was up.  You apologized profusely for talking Joel’s ear off about yourself. 

“Nahhhh, it was nice,” Joel said. “Hell of a lot more interesting than my life.”

“Well it was good talking to you,” you told him. 

He said, “Hey, call me back any time.”

There was nothing sexy at all about that first conversation, but his voice did something to you.  You squeezed your thighs together when you got back to your cell and looked at the photo. Mabel kept giving you a knowing look. 

—------

You started calling Joel regularly.  Mabel told you he liked you a lot, but you weren’t sure if you should believe her. She seemed overly eager to set him up. The conversations were brief and casual. When you didn’t call him one week, the next time you spoke, he told you he missed the sound of your voice. 

Something came over you and you broke the tension. “My voice?” you asked. “Joel, your voice. . . you dunno what it does to me,” you blurted out. Zero to sixty, just like that. 

“Well damn,” Joel said. “Shoulda said somethin’. Coulda given ya better than stories about Mabel.” 

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“Like whatever ya want, jailbird.” Your heart fluttered “Whatever gets ya hot and bothered.” 

“Honey, you could read me the phone book,” you told him. 

He chuckled. “Haven’t seen one of those in a few years.”  His voice was sexy to begin with but the sharp edge of the phone connection made it even hotter. 

After a moment of tense silence, he said, “Hey, uh, you notice any of your pictures missin’?”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, Mabel mailed me one. Didn’t tell me you were a fuckin’ smokeshow.”

You laughed bashfully. 

“Well she did. But I had to see it for myself, and shit”

“Well, thanks. You’re not bad looking yourself.” 

Your time was almost up. 

“Hey I’m comin’ to see Mabel later this week. Y’all got the same visitor’s night or what? Cause I’d love to see you, too, if it’s allowed.” 

“Nah, mine’s the next night.” 

“S’alright, i’ll come back for ya, sugar.” Your heart skipped a beat. 

“I’ve gotta go.”

“I know. Be good, jailbird.” 

—--------

It was visitation day and you were getting nervous. Mabel thought it was adorable. She helped you get ready. Did your hair nice. “He’s already smitten with ya, baby,” she said. 

You were escorted into the visitation room and sat at one of the booths, separated by glass, with a phone on each side. 

When Joel came in, you didn’t recognize him at first.  In just those five years, his beard had turned half-silver.  He was striking in person.  He was wearing a tight t-shirt and jeans. Tight jeans. You couldn’t help but size up the bulge in them. 

When you looked up at his face, he was raising his eyebrows at you like he caught you looking.  He sat down and put his elbows on the table. You picked up the phone, a little nervous, but more excited than anything.  He checked you out and smiled at you coyly before picking up the phone. 

“Like what ya see?” he said softly into the phone. 

You replied with a low whistle, then asked, “You always dress like a piece of meat?” He had a few hand tattoos of his own. Faded, blurred together. A spade between his thumb and forefinger. A spiderweb curving around one of his biceps. He’d probably done his own time. 

“When the hell are ya gettin’ outta here?”

“Up for parole next month,” you said. 

“No shit!” He looked genuinely excited. 

“Mabel didn’t tell you?”

“Thought she was yankin’ my chain.” He stretched his free hand behind his head and you watched his bicep.  “You been good? Think you’ll get out?” 

“Haven’t been bad.” 

“Good.” He lowered his voice. “‘Cause sugar, I’m gonna need to see what’s under that garb.”

You smiled with faux shyness, and he continued, “God damn,” looking at you like a juicy leg of lamb. 

You stared at each other, checking each other out for a moment. You watched his pupils dilate as your chest rose and fell with desire. 

You made small talk for a minute or two, all the while fucking each other with your eyes. But, things took a turn again.

“What do you miss the most?” he asked in a low, sultry voice. “Bet ya don’t miss the clients.” 

You shook your head. 

He lowered his voice further. “When’s the last time ya had a nice hard cock ya really wanted?”

Your eyes widened. “Shit, I dunno.” 

“Ohhh you’re in for it.” You looked around, paranoid, in disbelief that you could get away with a conversation like this. “Ain’t nothin’ harder than mine, baby.” He reached his hand into his lap. “Fuck. ‘specially for you.” You could see his arm moving very slowly but there was no mistaking what he was doing.  His eyes devoured you.

“Joel,” you sighed. “Fuck, I believe it.” 

And just like that, a guard approached him from behind. “Time’s up,” the guard said and glared at you.  You rolled your eyes as a guard approached you, too.

Joel said “Later, jailbird” and hung up the phone.  When he stood up, his massive erection was visible and made your heart skip a beat.  You glanced up to his face and he was wetting his lips. He winked at you with pink cheeks and your eyes immediately fell back to his crotch as he adjusted himself and the guard hurried him away. 

FUCK. You were gushing. Mabel’s Jojo. Joel. What a man.

---------

Part 2

Ty for reading. strip club manager!Joel will be an alternate timeline of this Joel set in the past while Mabel was on parole. DIFFERENT READER. preview

this trope actually gave me so many more elaborate ideas lmao.

------

All Joel:@ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @wolvesandvampires @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda  @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname   @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @gracieispunk @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @milla-frenchy @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @am-3-thyst @may-machin @pedromania91 @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret

[anxi-aashi]

ok i dont have the energy to put this into a fic rn but i CANT stop thinking about college au! childe almost walking in on you while you're getting yourself off.

like he'd still knock of course, but it would scare the absolute shit out of you. instead of hanging out with your roommates that he's friends with (who are most certainly NOT gathered in your room) he'd be all "hey pookie can i come bother you I'm bored," while you're fully sat on a dildo.

and bc you wouldnt want to seem suspicious, you'd say sure, just a sec! and immediately run to throw the sopping wet toy into your bathroom sink before letting him in.

and he's just too observant for his own good. "hey you ok? you seem out of breath" yeah because you were.... working out! "really? you're not sweating though?" CHILDE DROP IT OMFG but he wouldn't. he just asks so many goddamn questions and you honestly can't tell if he's just fuckign with you or if he's just genuinely concerned for you. what were you doing? pilates? so thats why you're walking a bit weird? how tf were you not sweating after pilates? oh you just started? well sorry to interrupt!

yeah.... you're sorry too -_-

but hes here now so you offer to watch a movie and hang out, nevermind the cum threatening to run down your leg. "sure! you pick smth out and ill go to the bathroom real quick!" he says and curse your post-orgasm clouded mind for not being quick enough to warn him bc now he's standing in front of you, dildo in his hand, looking at you knowingly.

youre mortified obviously. the two of you are cordial but not THAT close and god you can almost picture the slick and cum that's smearing all over his hand now. why is he holding it for fucks sake???

childe wouldnt be merciful either -- this is a fucking gold mine for him. "well, i guess this is a workout" and you would like the earth to swallow you up so that you don't have to look at him with that shit-eating grin that's creeping up his face.

hed switch the dildo to his other hand and start opening and closing his fingers together, making webs of cum string in between. "you said you just started?" no, you'd have to refute, that part was a lie.

"and you were getting off with this?" and now WHAT was that supposed to mean bc there was truly nothing wrong with the dildo size!!! it was perfectly fine, it did its job. sure it could be a tad bit longer, but you had bills to pay. he lets it go (with a judgemental eyebrow raise), but when he opens his mouth again to ask "what were you doing?" you almost wish he had kept making fun of your tiny ass toy. "were you using your hands or the suction cup?"

god he'd have a dangerous look on his face by now, lidded eyes looking at you like you were gonna be his next meal; pitching his voice just a tad bit lower just to see you squirm.

"you don't have to answer, but i would really, really like to know." aaaaaand there it goes. there's goes the last bit of your sanity bc huhh?? huuuuhh??? dear lord i would fully melt into a puddle we love a man that can make consent sexy.

fuck it, right? yeah, you were using the suction cup. "yeah? you like riding dick?" SHFBAN;DNSJF;F GODDDD

"you got any other toys?" yes sirrr yes I do, got a vibrator right over there in the nightstand. and duh now he's gotta follow up with "ever use both?"

which you have. who hasn't? but you usually only use it for quickies, you say. don't want it to be over too fast, ya know?

but then. thennnnnn he'd hit you with this: "you still horny?"

lorddddd you have NO idea, but you don't say that lest it get to his head (but lets be honest, he knows what he's doing; he knows how desperate he's making you). so he walks up to you, finally, and hands you your dildo, all sticky and starting to dry by now.

"well don't stop on my account."

and he plops down on your bed, manspreading just the tiiiiiniest bit to where you can see the tent in his pants.

which is how you find yourself back in your desk chair, thighs burning from fucking yourself on a dildo you now know is much smaller than whatever childe is packing while he just watches, palming his cock over his pants.

anyways gonna go work on my wips now lolololololololoolo

[fastcardotmp3]

thinking about Max and the Munson's living across the way from each other post s3 again, but maybe specifically Max living across the way from Wayne post s3.

Wayne Munson knows what a kid looks like when they hide behind well practiced and carefully crafted defense mechanisms, after all, and he recognizes a kid with too much responsibility on their shoulders.

He sees this teenage girl with the pigtails and the hard eyes who doesn't answer the door when her friends come to call even though Wayne saw her sitting on the porch twenty minutes ago; who is always the one bringing groceries home on foot even when her mom's car is there; whose bedroom light is too frequently on when Wayne gets home before the sun even has the chance to think about rising.

And he's not gonna overstep about it, he has no intention of making this girl uncomfortable because he is a stranger to her and he knows how both he and Eddie look on a first glance, wouldn't blame her for not being entirely trusting, but he keeps an eye out for her anyway.

Tells Eddie too-- "She's home alone a lot, you make sure no one tries takin' advantage, hear?"-- even if Eddie is mostly preoccupied with his own shit most of the time, because if Wayne can recognize a kid hiding, a kid carrying too much around on that skateboard of hers, then Eddie certainly can too.

"You adopting another stray, old man?" is Eddie's response, but he glances out through the blinds at the trailer across the way with a heaviness to his shoulders in understanding at the sight of that girl sitting on the porch with her headphones on and a school book in her lap that she's decidedly not paying any attention.

"Something like that," Wayne claps him on the shoulder, squeezes as he passes by, but he doesn't think anything will really come of it.

There's not much they can do except keep an eye out, carry the Mayfields' paper up to the porch on rainy days so it won't get soggy and unreadable, offer a wave and a kind word and a reminder that "if your Mama ain't home and you need something, you just give us a knock," despite the brush off he gets every time.

And then one night-- one morning really, before the sun is about to rise-- Wayne pulls up at home after his shift to find Eddie standing out in the snow, odd enough in and of itself made odder by the fact he isn't alone.

"--don't know what you think you're gonna accomplish here at four in the goddamned morning, Harrington, but--"

"I mean, that doesn't feel like any of your business."

"You're parked outside my home, yeah it's my business," Eddie gestures broadly at the unfamiliar BMW the two of them are standing next to as Wayne clambers out of his own truck on tired legs and overworked shoulders.

He needs a hot shower, a good, long sleep.

But Eddie is getting in this other kid's face and it's--

"I'm parked outside that home," Harrington, big coat and gloves but thin pajama pants poking out underneath it all, points at the Mayfield trailer with exhausted exasperation and something tinged with a bit more urgency too, "and I don't know you, man, nothing I do is any of your business--"

"Steve come in-- do you have visual yet, over?"

"Jesus Christ," Harrington reaches into the front seat of his car, yanks out a radio that has Wayne's eyebrows shooting up even as he approaches them, the impatient and anxious shift of Eddie's untied sneakers in the December slush. "Gimme a minute," he says into the walkie-talkie, "I told you I'd call when I did."

"Yeah, but it only takes you ten minutes to drive to her place and--"

Harrington shoves the antenna down and shuts the thing off, just as Wayne finally stops beside his nephew with a hand at his elbow.

"Everything alright here, boys?"

Wayne knows his kid, is the thing, so he knows the protective tension in the cross of those arms, the furrow of his brow, knows that Eddie is maybe seeing himself in Max Mayfield a little too fully on this night, dragged out of his bed by god only knows what to argue with a Harrington in the brisk wind of winter.

And Wayne knows his kid, so he recognizes the work of his jaw when he's about to burst out into a spiel to make himself the target instead of whoever he's put behind him this time around, but he doesn't get the chance to start before he's being interrupted.

"Steve, why are you harassing my neighbors."

Flat and unimpressed but shaky around the edges like she's not quite getting enough air, the orange glow of the light inside her trailer spilling out past her into the blue of night as Steve Harrington's legs all but give out with a breath of--

"Oh, thank god," he shuts the door to his car behind him as he takes a few steps closer to him, Eddie trailing like he's ready to literally put his body between them instead of just figuratively, "are you okay?"

"I'm not the one driving around town in the middle of the night, what are you doing here?" she crosses her arms, doesn't leave the cracked doorway at the top of the steps and Harrington doesn't try to climb them either.

And then it's a quick, well-punctuated punch of a conversation in which Wayne feels like he's missing about half the facts, standing by nonetheless.

"Lucas walkied."

"I told him I was fine."

"You called him at three A.M. and hung up on him without explanation," Steve points out surprisingly levelly.

"Yeah. After I told him I was fine."

"Max."

"I thought I wanted to talk about it and changed my mind."

"You know he'd listen."

"I can't-- you know I can't--"

"Yes you can."

"Not about him. Not to Lucas."

"To me, then," Steve throws his hands up in exasperation, and Wayne can feel something crackling in the air.

It's the same thing that had been there the first handful of times Eddie had picked a fight with Wayne after he first moved to Hawkins, looking for the line, looking for how far he could go before it all went to shit again.

Wayne knows this girl, even if he doesn't know her, because years ago he'd brought a boy with a buzzcut for a visit and he'd never left.

Which is maybe why he speaks up even though he knows how that boy would've reacted.

"If you need something, kiddo..."

"I need everyone to leave me alone," she snaps, striding out all the way onto the porch, only the bravado of it falters when the door slams shut behind her and she all but jumps out of her skin. "Fuck. God, shit, that door--"

She opens it again, yanks it nearly off its hinges just to slam it once more like she's trying to break the thing.

And now she's definitely not getting enough air. Now she's--

"Max, hey, alright--"

"Buddy, I dunno--"

"Back off, Munson, this is really not your business," Harrington shoves past Eddie and strides up the steps as Max slumps down onto the top one, arms wrapped around herself and Eddie looks ready to fight but Wayne just.

He doesn't know Steve Harrington, doesn't even really know his family beyond the way of small towns and knowing names and the neighborhoods in which they reside, but he knows a kid in distress leaning towards safety even if they don't believe they deserve it and Max Mayfield is leaning towards him.

Not Wayne, not Eddie, but this kid with the walkie-talkie and-- is he wearing two different shoes?

Wayne waits the compulsory moment to see Max really fall apart, right there into the fabric of Steve's coat as she keeps her hands tucked under her arms but catches her breath with that one point of contact-- forehead to shoulder-- as Steve speaks gently, words getting caught in the wind. As she stutters out rattling feelings right back.

"The door slammed when she left for work and I-- thought he was-- back again-- I thought-- and I shouldn't've-- not Lucas-- not for, for this--"

Wayne crosses the distance between him and Eddie, hand on his shoulder dragging him out of his own head, wherever it is he goes when his gaze goes glassy and tired like it does now in the gray glow of this place as the snow starts up again.

"You did good," Wayne murmurs, tugging Eddie back towards their own home, just across the way. "Good job, Ed, she's gonna be okay."

"She's..." Eddie clears his throat, looks so much younger than he is for a moment.

"Being looked after," Wayne says with a certainty he wouldn't have felt about the matter a day ago, Eddie following him listlessly back up the steps to the unlocked front door. "You did good."

"I didn't do anything," Eddie frowns, the pink of his cheeks and his nose practically glowing once they're inside.

"You showed her you've got her back," Wayne tells him without room for argument, pulling off his winter coat and moving to heat up water on the stove even as Eddie peeks through the curtains again, seemingly unable to accept that nothing bad is going to happen tonight.

Wayne can't be sure what put him in this state of mind, how he even got alerted to Harrington's arrival in the first place, but he knows he'll find his way back to solid ground soon enough.

Hot tea and warm clothes, when Wayne pulls Eddie away from the window, he catches sight of Steve speaking into the walkie with one hand and holding Max to rest against his shoulder with the other.

He'll make sure they get out of the cold before he goes to bed, but for now he has his own kid to sit with in the ghosts of past hauntings brought back to life for the night.

"We gotta keep an eye out for her," Eddie mutters as he accepts the mug Wayne hands him, feet tucked up under a blanket on the couch.

Wayne sits down next to him and props his tired feet up on the coffee table with a heavy breath.

"We will," he says, because he knows there's no discouraging Eddie now.

The kid learned his habit for picking up strays from somewhere, after all.

[mncxbe]

#SMILE FOR THE CAMERA

𝑫𝒆𝒏𝒋𝒊 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈•ﾟ｡𝒄𝒘: in which reader is an erotica photographer who goes at the same uni as Denji// spicy pics, power imbalance, biting/ marking, nsfw, denji with a collar. 𝒂/𝒏: i'm experimenting a bit with different ideas and concepts

when you scouted Denji on campus a few days ago you didn't actually expect him to show up for the shoot. but there he was, awkwardly standing at your doorstep with his hands in his pockets, forcing that silly smile of his.

"hey so... i'm here for the pictures. dunno if you remember me. i'm Denji"

stepping aside, you let the blond enter your apartment. he looked around with curious eyes, taking in his surroundings: your place was neat, modern, nothing too expensive but certainly impressive for a college student. "yea, i remember you" you smiled, motioning him to take a seat on the leather couch"make yourself comfortable. i'll bring you a coffee and the consent form and walk you through the process."

Denji nodded, his gaze lingering on your frame as you made your way to the kitchen. you needn't even see him to know that he was shamelessly trying to look under your skirt. the coffee machine buzzed as you started it and you looked back at the blond.

he was staring at his shoes, mindlessly tapping his foot on your fluffy carpet and picking at his nails. cute... you thought, mentally praising yourself for scouting him.

Denji was one of those pretty guys who weren't even aware of how charming they were. with his dumb smile and scruffy hair he looked just like a puppy– and that was exactly what you needed for your photographs.

once you returned with his coffee you started explaining all the details: what the shoot entailed and when he'd receive the payment, you told him that you'd also use props (he didn't comment on that) and that the pictures would be sold to private buyers so there was no risk of them ending up online. Denji simply nodded, occasionally sipping his coffee as his eyes scanned the consent form. you were fairly sure he didn't even read half of it before signing his name in the corner.

"good, that's all, right? i'm ready to start when you are." he beamed and you walked him to your makeshift studio. it was a large room with boxes and racks filled with clothes and props- masks, leashes, cuffs, ropes– all that you needed for your shoots. Denji's face flushed at the sight and he looked at you over his shoulder. "are we gonna use all that?"

it took all your self restraint not to roll your eyes at him. did he really not pay attention to what you just told him? "no, Denji, we won't use everything. i'll figure out during the shoot what works and what doesn't, but let's take it easy. take off your shirt for now."

the blond hastly discarded his washed up t-shirt on the floor and crosses his arms over his chest. You were stunned to see how toned his body was, but it was a pleasant surprise. setting up your camera, you took a few experimental shoots, adjusting the lights.

Denji's excitement and confidence wavered when you started photographing him. he had no idea how to sit or stand or what to do with his hands and seeing you in front of him certainly didn't help his situation. to ease up the tension, he forced a smile, trying to make conversation.

"can I ask you something? i was wondering what made you choose me? i mean, i'm not the most handsome guy around."

there it was, the question you hated answering most. all guys that you work with were under the impression that there was something special about them. in a way, there was, but you never told them the truth, just like you wouldn't admit it to Denji. after all, how could you tell him that you didn't choose him for his looks, but for his attitude? he was the ideal model: compliant, a bit shy and obviously attracted to you. half hoping that you'd sleep with him after the shoot or at least let him take you out on a date, he was eager to please, to earn your praise, to give himself up on a silver platter for a pat on the head. and you could tell all that just by the way he looked at you with that imploring expression.

"i really like your hair" you said instead "and don't worry about your appearance, making you look good is my job. i work with average and make it spectacular."

your answer seemed to satisfy his curiosity for he smiled, looking down at his body "ah I see. it's good then"

from then you officially started the shoot.

as expected, Denji did everything you asked him to. he did a good job hiding his nervousness, swallowing the lump in his throat whenever you stepped closer to him or put him in different positions. the photos weren't that explicit, he'd expected way worse, so little by little, you eased him into the shoot. his tense muscles relaxed and the pictures got better. that was the key to a good shoot, making them feel comfortable enough to give you what you wanted.

"okay... these are great. you're doing a good job, Denji" you hummed and the blond's cheeks flushed red at your praise. "i wanna try something different now. get on your knees"

Denji kneeled, his gaze following you as you scrambled through a box of props. he tried not to stare at your thighs but hell, they looked so pretty in those fishnets and that tight skirt you wore hugged your curves so perfectly. he could feel his pants tighten at the sight but he quickly regained his composure when you turned to face him. you closed the distance between you two, crouching in front of him. "i want you to put this on" you smiled softly, handing him a black collar.

a trace of uncertainty flashed on his features but he eagerly complied, unbuckling the collar and wrapping it around his neck. you could feel his rapid pulse when you helped him fasten the collar, his ragged breaths hot against your cheek. "is it comfortable?"

"yea, super okay." he deadpanned, his voice a bit shaky. you attached the leash to the metal ring of the collar and wrapped it around your left palm, giving it an experimental tug. Denji huffed, a hushed mewl spilling from his lips.

"s-shit sorry for that..." he fumbled, blushing even more but before he could finish his apology you lifted your foot off the floor and placed it on his shoulder, shifting closer to him. your heel dug painfully into his skin but he couldn't care less about it. his breath grew shaky as the inner part of your thigh brushed against his cheek. "what are you doing?"

"trying out some new angles. you look good like this." you answered in a level voice, though you couldn't deny that seeing Denji like this had an effect on you. he did little to hide how much he was enjoying himself: his eyes were glazed over, droopy, a dumb smile etched onto his lips. from where you were standing you could clearly make out the outline of the bulge in his pants.

"don't you think we're a bit too close? i mean, is this professional?" he mumbled between the clicks and blinks of your camera, asking such an innocent question as if he weren't about to cum in his pants. professionalism my ass you wanted to retort but you bit your tongue, knowing that he was simply trying to make conversation and calm his nerves.

"some of the buyers like it when there's a feminine presence in the pictures too. if it helps with anything, just think of me as a prop."

"I see..." he mused, moaning softly as you gave a leash another tug, making him look up at the lens. "what other stuff do they like?"

Denji rested his head on your thigh, peering up at you. his brown eyes looked so pretty in this light and you could feel your stomach churn. you shouldn't be attracted to him, it was one of your ground rules– keep your work and private life separate. still, maybe indulging him wouldn't be that bad... it was just a simple conversation.

"all kinds of stuff" you answered, adjusting your position so that his chin rested on your navel, his head tilted up at the camera. he looked just like a puppy. "everyone is into something different, some prefer close ups, others full body shorts with light props, most of them aren't that much into the extreme stuff like full on bondage..."

your voice drifted off for a moment but Denji's gaze never left yours "anyway, as a general rule, the photos that sell the best are the expressive ones"

"expressive how?" he asked meekly and you snapped a few more pictures before answering. "I guess people want to buy emotions. they don't buy a portrait just because the model is pretty, they want to be able to feel what you feel. that's why more intimate pictures sell so well"

you took a step back and Denji quickly grasped your thigh, pulling you closer. you wanted to slap his hand away but something prevented you from doing it. he seemed... contemplative? his gaze traced your body as he caressed your skin with his thumb, toying with the mesh fabric of your stockings "so I should show emotion?" he eventually asked, letting out a dry chuckle "and here I thought i had to act like a tough guy."

without a warning, Denji hooked your leg over his shoulder and looked back at you again. "think we can take more photos like this?"

"s-sure" you said hesitantly, not knowing what he had in mind. you yelped when the blond suddenly bit down on your thigh, his sharp teeth piercing through your stockings. his tongue flicked over the indent marks as he sucked on your skin, leaving red marks behind. when he looked back at you his once shy, calculated expression was gone, replaced by a lustful one. you quickly snapped a picture and checked to see how to turned out– it was the best so far and you instantly knew it'd make good money.

"shit, Denji. keep doing that" you urged him and he obeyed, returning to kissing and licking your skin. his hands gripped your thigh, kneading your soft flesh as his mouth worked its way up to the edge of your skirt then slipped under.

you knew you should put an end to this before it got too far but you just couldn't bring yourself to do it. Denji's hands came to rest on your hips as he pushed up your skirt and licked a stripe of your clothed cunt, his hungry eyes locked on yours. you almost dropped the camera at the feeling, your body shuddering lightly as your fingers tangled in his hair. "fuck–" you huffed and Denji moaned into your pussy, dragging his tongue along the fabric of your panties.

"is this alright?" he asked, his voice a mere whisper and you could feel yourself getting ten times wetter. "y-yea, it's good" you babbled out, struggling to keep yourself steady on your feet. he looked up at you wish a lovesick smile as he pulled down your panties and you placed the camera back on its tripod.

the shoot was the last thing on your mind as you grinded on his face, your face scrunching up in pleasure. you got all the photos you needed anyway, you put in some good, honest work. why not reward yourself a little? pushing back the nagging thoughts in your mind telling you not to break one of the few rules you set for yourself, you allowed Denji to work you up to your high.

the rest of the evening was like a fever dream. if someone were to tell you that's you'd end up fucking Denji by the end of the night you'd laugh in their face. still, you could hardly help yourself when he was so eager to please you. so you simply got carried away and crossed some personal boundaries, which resulted in one of the best nights of your life. but you felt a bit bad for him, he was a sweet guy who deserved more than a hookup.

that's probably why you agreed to give him your number and go on a date with him before he left and offered to send him some of the pictures from last night (something that you never did since you didn't want your work to end up in some weird corner of the internet). yea, it was surely just pity, cause there was no way that you actually caught feelings for Denji after that night... right?

[sunshine--void]

could you possibly do a first kiss scenario with all the puppets, preferably if they made the first move :3 pls n thank u

Of course! Very cute! <3

Sorry it took so long!

@robotoast03

@yuichiroleftarm

🏠 First kiss with WH 🏠

Wally Darling

The two of you had spent the day painting and he decided he wanted to have yours

But it just wouldn't be right to not give you anything in return :(

So he decided to lean up and peck your lips as payment

"Will that do?"

Afterwards he left to hang the painting up (he was just trying to hide his blushing face); leaving you standing in shock

Heavily inspired by this post :) ( I platonically love you @b-o-e )

Julie Joyful

The two of you had spent the day tending to her garden

And of course she wanted to thank you

So she playfully peppered kisses all over your face before ending with one on your lips

She then took you on a picnic with her

You were left with lipstick all over your face but it was totally worth it! :)

Sally Starlet

The two of you were practicing for her next play

She had very sneakily cast you to be her love interest

And it just so happens that the two characters you were both playing were supposed to kiss

"Alrighty! Are you ready?"

She leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to your lips

...then Barnaby messed up the scene

"aww.. looks like we gotta do it again dearie"

Did she hire Barnaby to ruin it...? Yeah probably

Howdy Pillar

You were buying some stuff in his shop

Only to realize at the checkout that you hadn't prepared any jokes :(

But you really need this milk...

You have two options

Steal

Explain it to him

Obviously you chose option two...

Nah I'm just kidding, you leaned up and kissed him

Completely catching him off guard

"Well... That's certainly one way to pay"

That was way easier than practicing a joke, your definitely doing that again

Barnaby B. Beagle

I'm not sure if kissing a dog would be very pleasant tbh...

I'mma pass on this one but you do you ig

Poppy Partridge

She's a bird...

And last time I checked birds have beaks..

...I don't think she can kiss you.

Sorry man :'/

Eddie Dear

He had taken a pretty nasty fall

And you decided to help fix him up

You didn't even think puppets could feel pain

But the reaction he had to you stitching him up seemed to say otherwise

Once you were done, you pressed a kiss to his forehead to make him feel better

You had to stand on your tippy toes to reach

Anyway- it definitely seemed to work

He was much happier now :)

Frank Frankly

I was gonna do frank but I can't think of anything

So sorry :(

I might do it in the future tho

[14dayswithyou]

TEO MY HUSBAND I MISSED YOU BOOKIE BEAR!!! 🩵🩵🩵

Could I have some college content with me Angel and Teo? Mayhaps in the campus library doing work and he’s trying to be distracting?

WARNING... minors/ageless blogs: do not interact. please read my pinned post before you send in anything !!

Rosie I'm STILL IN THE ROOM!!!!!!! 🧍‍♀️

Not proofreadin this you already know what's up!!! 💗

"Hey. Pay attention to me."

You try your best to ignore the way Teo pokes and prods at your cheek with the blunt end of your pencil, before he seemingly grows bored of the action and moves on to idly flipping through the pages of the book in front of you instead. 

"Where's Jae?" Without looking, you shoot him a question. "Shouldn't you be bothering him instead of me?"

"He's busy helping his dormmate dye its hair again." Teo's fingers move from the pages and drift towards your free hand instead. "...You should let me dye yours as well. Wouldn't that be fun?"

"..." You pull your hand away from his and flip the page, "No."

"C'mon. What's it gonna take for you to pull that stick out of your ass and get your nose outta those books? I'm bored."

"Teo," You sighed deeply, "I need to study for my finals. You know I can't afford to fail this term."

"That's all?" You could practically hear him scoff. "Don't worry that pretty little head of yours, starshine; your professors are a bunch of fuckin' chumps. One word from me and they'll give you whatever grade you want. Now, c'mon." 

Teo nudges your arm to goad you into packing up your belongings and leaving with him, yet you don't seem to move. "...Seriously?"

You send the dark-haired male a pointed look before returning to your papers once more. Although annoyingly, he takes that as an invitation to scoot closer and lean in dangerously close to your ear.

"...I'll take my shirt off if you don't move."

No response.

"Pants, too."

If he wanted to get kicked out of the campus library for public indecency, that was on him.

"I'll pull the fire alarm."

That almost gets a twitch out of you — knowing fully well that the muscular man beside you was definitely the type of guy who'd do such a thing — but he's been acting more... compliant lately, and you didn't dare ask why.

"...Fine. Suit yourself."

Although you can't see Teo from your peripheral vision, you can hear him slouch back into the chair with a heavy sigh, before he pulls out his phone and obnoxiously starts typing away.

It was certainly odd to have him linger quietly by your side like this — normally, when Teo got sick of something, he'd toss whatever it was aside and find something more entertaining to do instead. So this... This certainly wasn't what you were expecting.

You had half a mind to ask if Teo would oh-so-kindly switch his phone to silent if he wanted to text that loudly, but you decided it was best not to waste time on trivial things. Your cheat sheet wasn't going to revise itself, so you instead focused your attention back to the words in front of you and tried to shut the annoying guy out.

But Teo certainly made things difficult when he absentmindedly threw an arm over the back of your chair and leaned closer to your side. You could practically feel the heat from his thigh as he brushes them up against yours — and if you weren't so hellbent on shutting his presence out — you would've noticed the subtle scent of his cologne wafting in your direction.

Old money, luxury, and the faintest hint of smoke.

Your eyebrows twitch at the audible ding! of his phone, indicating that he must've gotten a text from someone. You pretend not to notice how he lets out a puff of laughter at whatever is on his screen... Obviously, he was trying to bait you into looking in his direction to see what was so funny — but upon realising that it wasn't working — he goes back to typing something instead.

But once he's done, Teo decides to throw his phone onto the table instead of shoving it into his pocket like usual. His screen stays lit for a few more seconds before it fades to black, but you were quick enough to catch a glimpse of his lock screen before it was gone.

There, for anyone to see, was a picture of you: with your arms resting on the table as you focussed on the textbooks laid out in front of you — with a soft look of concentration on your face.

[sunflowersandsapphires]

If the Sun Starts Setting

Of Oak and Ivy, Chapter 7

Series Masterlist         Next Chapter

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader 

summary: In college, Matt Murdock had two best friends, Foggy Nelson and you. However, life had no intention of letting you graduate with him. When he reconnects with you in adulthood, he is troubled to see the hand God has dealt you and vows to use every tool at his disposal to save you from damnation.

warnings: Swearing, family drama, characters celebrating Christmas, mom with terminal illness, crying mentions

a/n: Sorry to post this so late everyone! I have had the WORST brain fog today. I hope you enjoy! As always, comments and reblogs fuel me!

After just one semester of law school, the drive between suburban Connecticut and the Columbia campus was one you were becoming well-acquainted with. It wasn’t unbearably long, nor flooded with traffic on a dark Sunday evening. Headlights of oncoming vehicles painted swatches of light against the navy sky, a semi-urban work of art unlike anything you’d enjoyed before. Usually, it was a sight you took the time to admire. However, this particular evening you were unable to focus on anything but the tinny voice bubbling out of your phone’s speaker. 

Gritting your teeth and rolling your eyes to the heavens, you cursed the universe for a moment, tuning out the man on the other end of the line while you did so.

The sharp call of your name across the speakers regained your attention. ”Are you listening to me?“

Your father's inflection was grating on the best days. After three weeks spent waiting on him and your two ungrateful siblings while they preached about the importance of family during the holidays, you were ready to scream with every word he spat at you. The two hour drive back to campus was supposed to be the growing light at the end of the tunnel. Instead, you'd spent the last third of it arguing with your father about healthcare charges.

”Yes, I'm listening.“ ‘Unlike some of us’, you thought to yourself. ”As I said, that charge was for her brief hospital stay over Thanksgiving. I've already paid it and it might take a week or two to reflect—“

”This is a debt collection notice, hun. That means they didn't receive the payment yet. Which means they'll be coming after me when your mom inevitably cannot pay.“

Contemplating banging your head against your steering wheel just to remove the memory of this conversation, a flash of movement across the parking lot caught your eye. Expression softening, you almost sobbed in relief when you caught the two beaming expressions of your friends waving from the exterior door. Unfortunately, your father wasn't quite done arguing with you.

”Dad, I understand you don't want to be on the hook for this—“ ‘Not like you would be anyway.’

”I most certainly do not.“ He interrupted. Once again ignoring his rambling, you snatched your backpack and exited your car, slamming the door with a bit more force than usual.

”Dad, just forget about it, ok? I'll deal with it, just—“

”Well, clearly you won't deal with it in a timely fashion, which is why I'm calling...“ ‘Was he trying to kill you? It sure felt like it.’

”Ok, well I just got back to school so I need to go now.“ You tried to nudge him into polite farewells as you practically sprinted across the pavement towards your friends. As expected, he didn't take kindly to being rushed off the phone.

”Of course you do,“ He laughed incredulously. ”You know, this is your mother's livelihood we are discussing. It wouldn't kill you to be a bit more compassionate.“ ‘You're one to talk asshole.’

”You're right. I'll try to work on that this semester,“ You remarked drily. ”Gonna go inside now. Bye.“

Not bothering to listen to the screaming that answered your callous goodbye, you hung up, breaking into a strained smile as you greeted your boys. ”Why hello there, strangers.“

As if he didn't just witness you walk literally and figuratively closer to a breakdown, Foggy squealed, nearly taking you to the pavement in a tackling hug. “Welcome back, bug!”

“Christ, Fog, you're gonna crush her.” Matt laughed, hearing you grunt as you fumbled to stay upright with Foggy coiled around you like a boa constrictor.

“I missed you too, Fog.” You murmured, tears welling in your eyes at the sensation of being embraced.

You had missed them. Deeply and almost pathetically. After an entire semester at each other's sides, the few weeks in your hometown for Christmas had felt like an eternity.

After Matt and Foggy had been struck with the campus flu, the rest of the semester passed in a whirlwind. The two clingy boys had unsurprisingly infected you, meaning you were unfortunately sick for Thanksgiving and had to remain on campus to avoid passing the virus on to your immunosuppressed mother. Matt had been incredibly apologetic, and plagued with his typical Catholic guilt, so he'd stayed with you while Foggy returned to Hell's Kitchen for Turkey Day.

The next few weeks were spent cramming for finals and, eventually, celebrating the end of your first semester at Columbia—which you had all, amazingly, passed. Leaving for the lengthier winter break had been an abrupt end to the joy you felt over your grades, however.

You returned to New Haven a day earlier than expected to sit in the local hospital's oncology ward with your mother. While you were ill over Thanksgiving, she'd had a recurrence of stage 3 pancreatic cancer, which meant more frequent trips to see her doctor as well as numerous bills that neither of you could afford. Because of her declining health, your father and siblings had come to Connecticut for Christmas. The extra company meant that your holidays–which were meant to be a time for recuperation following a strenuous first semester–had been frustrating to the point of tears. Which, embarrassingly enough, Matt had been burdened with when you called him to complain.

The two of you called multiple times a week, exchanging stories and annoyances just like you did when you were living within a few blocks from each other. But it didn't stop you from missing him and Foggy fiercely for 24 excruciating days.

Swallowing a lump of pent up emotion, you huffed out a shaky exhale, your breath clouding in the frigid winter air. “Ok, Fog. You know I love you, but it's cold as fuck out here.”

“Right! Sorry.” Foggy withdrew from the embrace, blushing furiously as he scratched at the back of his neck.

Immediately replacing Foggy in front of you, Matt took a chance to hug you quickly before pulling you inside. “Glad you're finally here, I thought Nelson here was going to combust.”

Letting Matt usher you inside, you heard Foggy's baffled scoff. “Do I look like a patient man to you, Murdock?”

Matt smirked, “How would I know?”

You and Foggy both groaned loudly, looking to each other for support as Matt cackled. “C'mon, you set that one up perfectly. What's a guy to do?”

“You should've heard him over break, bug. He was driving my poor mother towards a stroke, I swear.” Foggy shook his head in feigned irritation.

“Oh please, she loved me.” Matt shoved his roommate, nearly bowling the three of you down the staircase as you trudged toward their room.

“I bet she did.” You snorted, “You probably dialed the charm up to 11.”

“Try 15.” Foggy remarked, unlocking the door and shoving it open.

Ignoring the jab, Matt held out a hand for your bag, allowing you to slip out of your coat and shoes.

“Who were you on the phone with?” His question was meant to open the can of worms in a structured way, rather than answer his own burning question. He’d bet dollars to donuts that it was–

“My father.” Came your fatigued response, confirming his suspicions. Your words were tinged with a bitterness that he’d expected, but they held a deeper upset thinly veiled by your exhaustion.  

“Is everything ok?” Foggy asked quietly, his brow pinching with worry as he studied the bags under your eyes. The blond was less informed on the hell you’d been put through over the last month or so, only picking up bits and pieces if Matt relayed them.

With a groan, you collapsed unceremoniously onto Matt’s bed beside him, leaning heavily into him as one of his arms fell across your shoulders. “Of course, it’s just…it wasn’t the pleasant send off I was hoping for.”

Your pulse jumped when you spoke, steadying out as you reached the end of your sentence. Matt already knew that things weren’t “ok” with your mom or your home life in general, but he blinked in surprise to hear the disappointment that coated your words as you referenced your father’s curt goodbye. Making a note to bring that up when you seemed more inclined to be vulnerable, he rubbed a palm over your arm in a comforting gesture.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I wish it had been better.”

Huffing a tiny laugh, you let your head fall against his shoulder. “Me too. How were your holidays?”

“Pleasant.” Matt murmured at the same time Foggy clapped his hands together.

“Fantastic! I forced Matt to watch all of the Star Wars movies with me and we ate our weight in cookies.” The long-haired boy explained with genuine enthusiasm. As he began to recount the escapades from the annual Nelson holiday party, your eyes flicked upwards to look at Matt, whose arm was still moving slowly across your shoulder and back as he caressed your sleeve. His eyes were trained forward, but a muscle in his jaw twitched as you focused on him, so you had a sneaking suspicion that neither of you were listening to Foggy’s story. You’d forgotten how well he could read you, until he gave you the option to pretend everything was fine with your dad.

He knew it wasn’t, and you did too. And maybe shoving that shit deep down and pretending it didn’t exist wasn’t a healthy way of handling it, but if you met Foggy’s worried gaze right now it would make you cry, which you were not prepared for. So, whether it was a wonderful coincidence or Matt could truly read you like a picture book, you were thankful for his deflection.

Smiling softly, you looked back to Foggy, listening to him talk about his drunk aunts fawning over Matt and feeling the thick tension bleed out of your shoulders.

Eventually, Foggy took a deep breath, slapping a hand to his forehead. “Woah, head rush!”

Matt chuckled, “You didn’t even stand up, buddy. You ok over there?”

“Yah, I’m fine! Just excited!” Foggy waved a hand, unfazed.

“And I can’t wait to hear about everything, Fog. But maybe we should take a break for presents?”

“Presents?” Foggy’s eyes widened along with his grin, his behavior as animated as a child’s at the mention of gifts. “Why didn’t you lead with that?”

You laughed, prying yourself out of Matt’s secure grip and opening your bag. Tossing two wrapped bundles across the room and onto Foggy’s bed, you set the other two in Matt’s lap.

“Merry Christmas, my lovely Musketeers!” You giggled as Foggy mime-fenced toward you. As soon as the blond was finished beating you in the imaginary sword fight, he eagerly tore into the glittery wrapping paper. Next to you, Matt looked much more apprehensive about the packages in his lap.

“Go on, Matty. Open them!” You encouraged, bumping his shoulder with your own.

“But we don’t have anything for you,” Matt’s lips curled into a pout, looking like a sulking kitten as he trailed a single finger along the crisp edge of the parcel nearest to his hand.

You rolled your eyes fondly. The poor kid had a strong enough sense of justice for the whole campus. ”Matty, we're in college. And I'm the only one with a job. I didn't expect you to get me anything.“

”But—“ Matt argued, but you cut him off with a laugh.

”No more buts! I got these presents for you because I wanted to, not because I thought I’d receive something in return. Please open them?“ Though he couldn't see your face, you batted your lashes and widened your eyes, hoping he could sense the pleading expression.

With a frown, he nodded once, carefully peeling the tape from the paper as if the task required surgical precision. Grinding his teeth as the paper crinkled raucously, he slid the first gift out of its casing carefully, as if he was expecting it to shock him if he moved too quickly. Withdrawing a lump of the softest material he'd ever felt, he ran a thumb over it, trying to decipher what it was. The strip of wool was composed of thick braided stitches, promising to retain warmth in even the most bitter winter weather.

”A scarf?“ He asked, his lips pursed into a small, surprised oval. A rosy blush dusted the tops of his cheeks.

”Yes! I made one for you and one for Foggy. Except yours is a deep red and his is orange.” You spoke softly, smiling over to where the longer-haired boy was wrapping the length of yarn around his neck triumphantly.

“Our favorite colors.” Matt murmured, his fingers still tracing the fuzzy stitching. “You remembered?“

”Of course I did, trouble. That's important information. I'd be a fool to let it slip through the cracks.“ You hoped the joke would make him laugh, but he continued to stare blankly at the scarf as if it was an animal that had just died in his arms. ”If you don't like it, I can take it back, and donate it or something–“

”No!“ Matt looked up, horrified, clutching the scarf to his chest. ”No, I love it. I just...“

Turning his face back to his lap, he licked his lips before continuing. ”I've never gotten something like this before. I don't know what to say, is all.“

”No need to say anything, bub. I'm glad you like it.“ You rubbed your palm over his arm, mirroring his actions from just a moment ago.

Still focused on his own gifts, Foggy's excited screech startled both you and Matt. ”NO WAY!“

Turning to you with a dropped jaw, Foggy shook his head. ”There is no way you got this.“

”What is it, buddy?“ Matt asked, his lips curled into a soft smile as he heard Foggy open a hardcover book eagerly.

”A first edition of The Fellowship of the Ring!“ Foggy was practically giddy, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he rifled through the pages. ”How did you even get this?“

Grinning at him, you giggled. ”My mom has a friend with an extensive book collection and asked where we could find one. Turns out, the friend had one of her own and was willing to part with it for next to nothing. Guess she owed my mom a favor.”

Diving across the room to crush you in another hug, Foggy kissed the top of your head. “Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU!”

Laughing brightly, you struggled to shove your friend off of you. When he was this worked up, Foggy had the tenacity of an overexcited golden retriever. As usual, Matt helped release you from his clutches. ”You're welcome, Fog. I wanted to get you a nice copy since you lost the one you brought to school.”

“I'd say you accomplished that, my lovely jitterbug.” Foggy ruffled your hair, retreating to his bed and launching himself onto the mattress–the rusted springs creaking in protest.

Giggling at him, you turned back to Matt. “Alright, Murdock. Your turn, again. After this, I promise never to put you through this torture again. Until next year.”

Matt groaned in response, snatching the second gift with more vigor. “Let's get this over with.”

Approaching the gift with the same systematic tactic as the first, he slid the paper off of the box without a single tear. Setting the wrapping aside, he opened the cardboard package and pulled out his real gift.

“Ok so, I'm not sure how helpful these will be,” You warned, fidgeting with your hands as he ran his fingers along the band connecting the ear pieces. “But, they're, um, noise-canceling headphones?”

Matt's breath caught in his throat. He was overwhelmed with guilt and affection and surprise at the present, all words of gratitude pulled back down to his vocal chords as he focused solely on not bursting into tears.

Over the past few weeks, the Nelsons had been kind enough to invite him to stay and celebrate with them. He was flattered, and so thankful, but he wasn't used to so many...people. During a few of your phone calls over the break, he'd mentioned that the excessive stimuli, mainly noise, had been getting to him and giving him headaches. And rather than chastising him for being ungrateful, you'd listened and sympathized with him over the phone, ultimately buying him a solution to the issue with your own money.

Sure, there was no guarantee that these would work for his heightened senses, but you didn't know that. And the idea that you were willing to go to such immense lengths to ensure his comfort...it was evidence of a love he hadn't experienced in a decade.

“Are you ok? Did I do something wrong?” Your worried murmur broke his train of thought.

“No,” He choked out. ”No, they're perfect. So is the scarf. Thank you, bug.“

”Of course. Merry Christmas, Matt.“ You kissed his cheek gently and he felt a flush crawling up his neck. Wrapping an arm around you, he tucked you close to his chest, hand cradling the back of your neck.

”Merry Christmas, sweetheart.“

The two of you sat there in silence, holding each other close for a minute before your phone rang. Sighing deeply, you rested your head against Matt's shoulder as you fumbled for your phone. Thankfully, the screen displayed your mom's contact information, not your father.

“Sorry, trouble. I have to take this.“ You squeezed his arm, pulling out of his embrace and stretching as you stood. ”I'll be right back. Hopefully.“

Smiling at your near-groan, Matt jerked his chin towards the door. ”We'll be here.“

Slipping into the hallway, you lowered your voice. ”Hey mama, everything ok?“

”Hey baby, everything's fine, just had a couple questions for you about bills.“ Her sweet voice was strained and you could practically see her flicking her gaze to meet your father's, his metaphorical gun to her head as she made the call.

”Ok,“ You ground out, trying not to snap at her when she wasn't the reason you were frustrated. ”Um, what questions did you have?”

“You did pay the one from November?” She asked, predictably.

“I did. It'll reflect soon and Dad has nothing to worry about. The bill is attached to our names, not his. That's why Collections isn't writing to him.“ You explained as calmly as you could, knowing that she was aware of this already, but probably had you on speakerphone. ”Was that all?“

”Not exactly.“ Her tone shifted, pitching lower and sounding almost embarrassed. A crackle rippled over the line and suddenly your father's gruff voice replaced the one you adored.

“You need to come home next weekend to help your mom with the next round of billing. I've run out of time off and can no longer assist.” He commanded, the ‘compassion’ he held for her livelihood nowhere to be found.

‘Oh because you were so helpful this month when you were ordering us around.’  You griped internally. “What round of billing? The one from Thanksgiving–”

“Was four appointments ago. These things aren't free, you know. They’re wanting us to pay for them.”

Both you and your bank account were intimately familiar with the steep cost of her treatment. Inhaling deeply, you paced a few steps from Matt and Foggy's room. “I know they aren't free. We signed her up for a payment plan two weeks ago that offers a deferral–”

“She was denied.” His laconic answer made your spirits plummet as time came to a halt. Your pounding heart froze in place, dread creeping up your spine. 

“What?” On the off chance that he was being unintentionally misleading, you needed to clarify.

Your mother's apologetic voice came over the line once again. ”I wasn't accepted into the financial assistance program, baby. But, it's ok! I can pick up more shifts–“

”No!” You exclaimed, the shrill edge of your cry echoing down the hallway. You tried again, digging your nails into the flesh of your palm as you fought to keep your voice steady.

“Don't...you don't need to do that mama. I don't want you to overwork yourself. I'll come home on Friday and we can talk about options, ok?“ You bargained, running through your work schedule in your head to create a plan.

”Are you sure, honey? Won't you be busy getting a head start on the semester?“ 

Blinking back tears at her obvious care for you, you cleared your throat before answering. “It’s alright, mama. It’s just syllabus week, I’m sure I’ll have time to come home and sort things out.”

“She’ll make time.” Your father’s promise was more for your mom than you, but it felt like a swift kick to the gut all the same. 

Because you would make time. You had to. No one else would. You were your mom’s last line of defense. Prioritizing yourself and failing to be there for her wasn’t an option you had. The emotional burden you were carrying felt impossibly heavy, as if there was a line of anvils across your shoulders and chest, slowly forcing the oxygen out of your lungs until you perished. 

“Of course I will. I’ll see you this weekend, mama. Love you.” You choked out, slapping a palm over your mouth before you broke. 

“I love you too, baby. Have a good week at school!” You could picture her tired smile as she wished you a proper goodbye, the image cracking your composure. 

You hung up before the first tear rolled down your cheek. Dropping your face into your hands, you bit your lip to stifle a sob, letting the tears flow silently instead. Falling back against the wall behind you, you let your legs give out as you collapsed to the disgusting dorm hallway carpet. 

The blood rushing in your ears drowned out the noises drifting through the thin walls, an urge to scream churned in your chest. Ugly, rage filled sobs were barreling up your throat, desperately trying to claw their way out, to make your pain known. Hunching over your knees in a pitiful crouch, you shielded your face with your arms, preventing any passersby from seeing your much-needed meltdown. 

Choking out a breath around another half-smothered sob, you nearly screamed when a warm hand landed on your shoulder. Looking up frantically, the outburst downgraded to a strangled whine when you saw Matt’s furrowed brow directed at you. 

Wordlessly, he sank down beside you, opening his arms with a frown. Throwing yourself into his embrace, you couldn’t help the hideous sounds that escaped you as he enveloped you in his muscular arms with ease. Tucking your head under his chin, you shook violently against his chest as you bawled. 

“I can’t do this, Matt. I can’t–” You gasped out, your breath stuttering as you wept forcefully into his shoulder. 

Shushing you gently, he rubbed circles into your back with his large hand.

Whimpering at the touch, you wiped at your tear-streaked face furiously. “”I’m barely an adult. How am I supposed to do this?” Your voice shattered around the words, throat constricting with anguish.

“I don’t know,” Matt cooed, stroking a fresh pair of tears away from your skin with his thumbs. “But I’ve got you, sweetheart. We’ll get through it together.” 

Burying your face into his neck miserably, you shuddered with distaste. “I can’t ask that of you.”

“You don’t have to ask.” He whispered gravely, pressing a kiss to your crown. 

With that promise, your brain seemed to shut off. Your tears gradually slowed to a halt, leaving you dazed and exhausted in Matt’s lap. Heaving out a shaky exhale, you closed your eyes, letting his soft touches wash over you like the tides. Kissing your forehead tenderly, Matt cupped your cheek. 

“Why don’t we go sit somewhere softer than this shitty floor, hmm?” His small question was meant to make you laugh, but your fatigue had chased away every other emotion. 

Nodding softly, you let Matt pull you from the ground and back into his room, welcoming the darkness after the harsh fluorescent lighting of the hallway. Sliding off his glasses and placing them on his nightstand, he guided you to Foggy’s bed. The blond frowned at you, setting his book aside. 

“You ok, bug?” He asked, sitting up to inspect your puffy eyes.

Shaking your head tiredly, you crawled onto his mattress and let him wrap you in a hug. Matt, with an impressive amount of agility, somehow leapt onto the bed behind you, snaking his arms around your middle so that you were sandwiched between him and his roommate. You listened to their steady breathing, letting the sound lull you into a more peaceful state of mind. 

Tangling his fingers with yours, Matt’s lips scratched over the back of your head. “Fog, think you could read some of your book for us?”

“Uh, yah totally.” Foggy pouted, gaze still lingering on your drained face. “Let me just find my page.”

The combination of your worn-out consciousness and the comforting presence of your two best friends was dangerous. Your eyes fluttered shut and you could feel yourself drifting off. 

As if reading your thoughts, Matt kissed your hair. “Go on, sweetheart. We’ve got you.”

Squeezing his fingers, you stopped fighting the darkness pulling at the edges of your vision, drifting off into a dreamless sleep. 

Taglist: @eugene-emt-roe@abbyhaslongshorts @mrs-bellingham @abucketofweird @yeonalie @jadeunstablexx @spider-murdock @0ctober-writes @danzer8705 @mattmurdockstateofmind

Please tell me if these tags aren't working for you all because Tumblr has been acting up :/

[mypoisonedvine]

omggg #64 with coworkers!javi p? 🫶

oh i havent written javier in ages!! i missed him!

#64: "fuck me--" "okay." "it's just a figure of speech..."

warnings: smut (18+ only!!), oral m receiving, slightly shy/innocent reader? she's still thirsty tho lmaoooo

You couldn't help it: he looked so sexy when he was frustrated.

It wasn't that you didn't feel bad for him when he was upset. He usually had good reason to be. You certainly didn't want to cause him to get like that... you just liked looking at him when it happened.

"Fuck," Javi sighed, tilting his head back as he ran his hands over his face; you bit your lip, hoping he wouldn't notice you staring.

He leaned in the chair, spreading his legs a little wider, and damn his thighs looked good in those jeans.

"Fuckin' idiots," he groaned to himself, "you know how much paperwork this is gonna be?"

"U-um, I'm not sure," you replied hesitantly, until he shot you a glare.

"I wasn't really asking," he explained.

"Oh... sorry..." you mumbled.

"But, just so you know-- it's gonna be a lot," he informed you.

"I can help!" you offered. "I don't mind staying late--"

"No, it's not your problem to solve," he shook his head.

"It's really okay," you promised, "I-I know I don't know my way around as well as you, but I can at least pick up the slack, right?"

You could tell by his expression that he was still planning to say no, so you spoke up first.

"I won't bug you, I swear-- I just want to be helpful! I won't ask any stupid questions--"

"Fine," he blurted out, sighing as little as you smiled. "Fine. You can stay late and help. But if we're not done by 8, you're going home."

"Great," you beamed.

~

You got the impression that you were more help than he was expecting, but you still found yourself distracted by him all too often. He just looked so good like this: running his fingers through his hair, filling his exposed chest with heavy sighs...

Once or twice, he almost caught you looking at him, but you darted your eyes back to the paperwork at hand and pretended to be focused.

He'd been handing you things to do for him-- delegating, as you'd suggested, to ease the load. You'd finish something and hand it back, simple enough. "What else can I do to help?" you asked him after finishing a few things, but he wasn't really paying attention to you right then.

"Fuck me," he groaned.

"Okay," you blurted out. Before you could think about it, before you could process that he hadn't even heard your question, before you could wonder if you'd be hearing from HR on Monday.

"It's... just a figure of speech..." he corrected with a nervous pause, looking over at you under raised brows.

You cleared your throat and looked away, feeling your face heat up. "I know," you responded, "I was just kidding."

"Right," he nodded, eyes still on you. "Didn't look like you were kidding."

"Yeah, 'cause I'm not that funny," you shrugged. "Not every joke lands, right?"

"It wasn't funny," he agreed with a growing smirk, "but I never said it didn't land."

You swallowed as he gave you a knowing look.

"You want somethin' from me? You just have to ask," he offered, voice lower and sweeter. You shifted nervously in your seat.

"Well, I-- um..."

He leaned in a little closer to you. "Sure could use the stress relief," he grinned. "I know how bad you wanna be helpful..."

You felt a bit helpless to him as he curled his finger to beckon you closer. You stood up and approached his chair, until he patted his thigh and you nervously sat down on it.

He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer; you were very aware that you'd never been this close to him before, and you bit your lip in anticipation. "Probably thought I wouldn't catch you lookin' at me, hm?" he prompted with a smile.

Damn. You thought you were more subtle...

"You wanna help me, honey?" he cooed. Finding yourself getting lost already in those warm brown eyes, you felt yourself nodding before you could think about it. He smiled wider. "Good. Why don't you get on your knees for me?"

Even as you were obeying, kneeling on the floor, you wondered if this was a bad idea-- if someone else would, for some odd reason, come back into the office and catch you like this. Why did the thought make your stomach flutter in a sort of intriguing way?

Your lip caught between your teeth as he shifted his hips with a low groan, starting to unbuckle his belt and jeans for you. You certainly had a suspicion that his dick would match his ego, but the thickness still surprised you a bit when he held it in front of your face... especially when you realized he wasn't fully hard yet. "C'mon and show me what you can do, baby," he encouraged, gently petting your head before guiding it further into his lap.

Though the reality of the situation still hadn't quite set in yet, you wrapped your lips around him and shut your eyes, humming as he moaned lowly and guided you down a bit further.

"Good girl," he praised roughly, leaning his head back and shutting his eyes. "Damn, got a nice little mouth on you..."

You hummed at the depth of his voice, feeling his cock stiffen further against your lips. You took him deeper with each bob of your head, whining a bit as he began to just barely move his hips forward into your mouth.

He groaned louder when the tip hit your throat. "Too big for you, honey?" he chuckled a bit, and you realized with wide eyes how much of his length was still left. "S'okay, baby, I know somewhere that you can fit all of this..."

You looked up at him, eyes wide, and felt your walls flutter at his devious smirk.

"Wanna come up here and make good on that offer to fuck me?" he chuckled.

You took your mouth off of him and eagerly jumped up into his lap, whimpering with need as he started to push your skirt up. "Javi," you moaned under your breath, letting your eyes flutter shut as his warm hands ran up your thighs--

"What?" he asked, and you jumped in your chair a bit as your eyes opened again. Your face flushed as you realized how far you'd let yourself fall into the fantasy.

"U-uh, nothing," you choked, shuffling around aimlessly with the stack of papers in front of you.

"If you're tired, you can head home," he assured, "it's no trouble-- I can finish this all up--"

"No, no, it's fine," you shook your head, offering him a nervous smile. "I'm all yours for the night."

"Hm?" he tilted his head.

"Um, you know-- it's just a figure of speech," you explained with a sigh.

[oceansssblue]

Can I request a Hunter x reader fic where they have a knife throwing contest? (You can choose who wins)

cool request! I'm down!

Decided to do a little flirty thing between a badass female reader and our sexy sargent. Note for everyone that requests me something; if you want speficically a female male or neutral reader do tell me! If not I'll jump to whatever I feel.

Hope you like it!

Xx,

Sky.

"A SHARP SMILE"

TBB REQUESTS –HUNTER/F READER 📩💖🔥

WARNINGS: PUBLIC KNIFE THROWING CONTEST, SEXUAL TENSION&SUGESTIVE (BUT NO SMUT), FLEETING MENTIONS OF ALCOHOL AND A SINGLE FLEETING REFERENCE TO PROSTITUTION.

Hunter carefully watched another round of the knife throwing contest develop in front of his eyes. Cid's Salon had been experiencing a drop in it's sales for quite a few weeks now; and after Tech's comment on how announcing special shows or activities could be an adecuate solution to such a problem, the Trandoshan had oficially inaugurated "Friday's Knife night". Tech had pointed out he had been alluding more to a special drink's discount or karaoke night; but Cid had waved an impatient hand at that, and claimed Ord Mantell didn't catter to the same "Coruscant's sweethearts". Hunter could only agree. The idea of the citizens in Ord Mantell singing a ballad was... Something.

The contestants were good for normal everyday people standards. Most of the knifes always ended up properly stuck to the wood board; though only a few of the participants were skilled enough to hit the borders of the –one round human, another round twi'lek, and so on– black siluete. He could tell who tried just for fun and who had had to use knifes before to defend themselves. None were good enough to match Hunter's seasoned abilities, though; which was the reason why he had comformed himself to remain a silent spectator instead of an active participant.

Almost an hour later, Cid announced the last contest of the night. Hunter studied everyone who payed the fee and wrote their names –and identifications– down on the list; wondering if he should just play in this last chance. There was nothing that ruled him out. He could inscribe himself and win the price; Omega could do with a new set of clothes, as she was outgrowing her current one quite fast. Hunter gulped down the leftover of his drink and patted Echo's shoulder; making his way towards the line.

Upon seing him, Cid rolled her eyes.

"Gonna double that bet, Broody?" she tempted him.

Hunter nodded with a shrug.

"That way I might be able to pay the exagerated fee you'll probably request from us next time" he smiled falsely sweetly, signing his name and turning to walk away towards the wood board.

Cid glanced at you waiting patiently on the line and smirked. Oh, was Broody in for a surprise.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You silently studied your competition. You needed to repair your bike and you were confident on winning that price. The bet was higher than the rounds before as well; the first place just had your name written on it. Plus, half of the participants were already embriagated at this point of the night. It wouldn't be too difficult, or so you hoped.

There were some new faces and some regulars. Your mind quickly divided the participants into three groups; real competition, like Raak –a duros you have had the bad luck to fight against with more than once in the past–, complete drunk disasters, and strangers you weren't really sure were to place that could be a potencial surprise. Like the male human clad up with heavy looking armour as if he was ready to jump on on an open battlefield anytime now; your eyes quickly detecting a vibroblade hidding in a compartment on his thigh. The guy certainly cut an intimidating figure; broad shoulders and trained muscles moving under his armour. His long hair –pushed back and away from his tattood face with a red bandanna across his forehead– didn't sweeten his looks; he still looked... A spicy kind of dangerous.

The corner of your lips inevitably tugged upwards. You've always had a nick for this kind of men; men who could ruin you but who you quickly put into place.

Right then and there, his eyes flickered over the room; quickly landing on yours, almost as if he could feel your stare.

You arched an eyebrow in half surprise, half amusement, and half defiance. Well, wasn't he some kind of well trained soldier or mercenary perfectly aware of his surroundings... You almost wished he could make you a run for your money; give the night some exciting real competition.

Your perspective on such a handsome attractive man would forever be tainted if he just made a dissapointing mess of his knife throws. Just in case he didn't, you threw him a quiet side smile.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Hunter's eyes couldn't help but bore into the female stranger; watching without missing a beat how the woman carefully picked up a knife from the table of possibilities offered by Cid. She slowly examined the weapon, turning it around in her hand patiently; studying it's shape and weight while ignoring the muttering and impatient calls from the crowd around them.

She seemed to nod to herself and he took in the way she positioned herself in front of the wood board; stance impecable with her body slightly turned to the right side, fingers gripping the shiny end with just the needed amount of strength. With just that and the way she concentrated on the siluete –not her hand–, and how she retracted her right arm back before quickly throwing her knife forward, Hunter already knew she had done an good job. Still, he couldn't help but feel surprised at the precision with which the knife got stuck to the center of the chest markings on the twi'lek black siluete; and how she swiftly and calmly abandoned her stance as if it was nothing.

For the second time that night, the pretty woman catched his eye and arched her eyebrow towards him; as if she were asking him a silent "there, that's my shot. What about yours?".

Hunter's hand confidently grabbed a sturdier knife from the table and got into position. He was... Intrigued, for now; but he'd show her how it was done.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You couldn't help but feel a tingle of excitement and arousal at such a sight. The man –you have discovered his name was Hunter, appropiate for the way he moved and watched– is definitely not a dissapointment of any kind. Round after round, he had matched you outstandingly well; all of his knifes hitting the exact center of the targets, not letting you stand ahead of him for a single point. He glances at you each time he finishes a throw now too; indulging in your little game and warming up the blood in your veins. It has been a while since you felt this attracted to someone; more so with him being a total stranger.

When it's the other participants time to throw –Raak following the two of you closely behind– he casually stops besides you; his eyes never leaving the contest in front of you.

"How' you learnt to throw like that?"

His voice is deep and slightly husky. Oh, this couldn't get any better.

You keep your wits together regardless of your thoughts and reply just as nochalant.

"Life has a strange way of throwing shit at you" you answer, arms crossed in front of your chest, eyes on the board. "I prefer to throw my shit back at her".

He glances down at you, and you can't help but smirk quietly. You know it's vague, but you're not about to spill all your secrets. He'll have to work with that.

"What about you?" You ask back, this time letting your eyes drive up to his dark amber ones. "You gonna tell me you know your way around a knife like that just by being a model Ord Mantell citizen?"

He hums non-comitally, eyes boring into yours. You have to force yourself not to fidget at such intensity. He really is something.

"Thought my outfit gave it a way" he humours you.

It pulls a smile on your face. Yeah, he's not giving away unnecessary information to potencially dangerous strangers either. Well, at least he's smart and has a sense of humour; you'll give him that.

"Last round, handsome" you push your luck and teasingly move your very fingertips along his shoulder and down to his arm. He squints his eyes at you and you grin up to him innocently. "Better not get distracted".

Hunter hums and moves to pick up his last knife.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The man has, once more, impecably hit all of his knifes on each center of the human siluete target. You only have to repeat the same and you'll both split the price; it's not ideal, but you'll have just enough to fix your bike with the savings you've been keeping this past month.

After picking your knife up, you glance at him one last time. Maybe as a way of saying goodbye. If he's a sore looser, or if he simply doesn't want anything else to do with you, this would probably be your last time of enjoying the sight of such a specimen.

You don't expect to see him with his... Daugther, though. It's obvious the way they're related with how the blonde kid looks up at him; chatting up excitedly and the love and admiration she holds for him bright in her wide eyes. He chuckles quietly, slightly bent down towards her, and pats her shoulder affectionately. Behind the girl, three other men have approached the scene too; perhaps equally interested in watching the final wrap up. Perhaps to support Hunter. They're all wearing the same kind of armour; minor alterations, but it's obvious they're a squad of some sort. A family. And they all look at the kid exactly the same way.

You glance at her, and then down at the knife in your hand, a million thoughts speeding through your head. You haven't had the easiest of childhoods. War is all you remember for a big part of your life; your teens spent running away. You had been forced to adapt to the cruel ways of the galaxy very quickly; and with the options being either becoming a prostitute or an assassin, you had made the choice that finished moulding the person you are today. You're not proud; but you're not exactly regretful either. There are a few deaths you always carry in your conscience; but you mostly only accepted the requests you hand-picked yourself, so you've kinda done your part wiping your corner of the galaxy from scum. Not the prettiest of jobs, and certainly not one you would go proudly announcing around; but life's life. You'd like this kid to have an easier one; and by the way her family are head to toes covered in armour, ready to fight ay any given second, you're guessing it hasn't been going exactly that way til this point in time.

You catch Hunter's eyes staring at you. Your heart beats faster inside your chest. Your hand tingles.

You turn towards the target. You calmly position yourself. You take a deep breath; and then, your last knife flies to the target.

Laughs and cheers errupt around you. The blonde kid smiles.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"Here you go, Broody" grumbles Cid, reluctantly pushing the pile of credits into Hunter's opened hands.

Hunter smirks.

"Bet all against me, huh?" he asks, inevitably happy.

Cid gives him the side eye.

"Well, my pockets would be full if my girl there didn't succumb to your supposedly good looks" she quotes with her hands, then roles her eyes. "I never quite understood the hype for humans anyway".

The Trandoshan walks away, still muttering a hundred of insults and dissapointed comments. Hunter doesn't feel a tad of guiltyness; Cid might not have won the bet, but she had definitely made good money on Tech's idea. The salon had been to the brim, drinks flowing around constantly. She really can't complain.

Hunter leaves the earned credits with his brothers and then turns to scan the lingering crowd. He quickly finds you talking to another participant near the entrance of the Salon. He excuses himself from his family and walks towards you.

You quickly wrap up your conversation with Raak with a forced smile, and once the Duros has reluctantly walked away, you turn to the approaching figure with a honest one.

"Ah, the man of the night" you chirp, roaming your eyes ever him quickly. "Got all those credits in a safe place?

Hunter glances back at Wrecker.

"Don't think anyone's gonna try to steal from him" he answers in good humour, and you nod in agreement.

You've never seen a human that big.

Hunter studies you quietly for a pair of seconds; then tilts his head.

"I admit the knife in the crotch was a good dramatic ending" he comments, then asks genuinely "Why did you let me win?".

You hum and take a look back at his family.

"Kid's cute. She yours?" You directly ask in return.

Hunter smiles.

"Sister" he explains. "More like an adopted daugther, now, though".

You can see the love he holds for her as well in the way he speaks and his features soften.

"Well, I've done some bad things in the past, but I still got a heart" you explain, trying to sound casual. Vulnerability is not often showed in planets like this. "You probably need those credits more than me".

Hunter is surprised; both by your reasoning and the fact that you're admiting it out loud to him. People aren't usually that honest and... considerate here. Or in the majority of places in the galaxy. This... Doesn't really match the idea of this dangerous –though sexy– woman he has in his head. This suddenly makes you more... human.

"What were you going to do with the price?" He asks, curiously.

You shrug.

"Repair my bike. I can usually do it myself, but I can't seem to find the problem this time".

Hunter hums. He doesn't take his eyes off of you.

"One of my brothers knows his way around mechanics pretty well. Maybe he could take a look at it, no need for extra payment."

That's sweet. You nod and smile up at him.

"I'd appreciate it".

You fill yourself with courage and take a tempting step towards him; right hand gently travelling upwards to rest in his chest plate.

"Now, why don't you follow me home for the night, mm? We can take a look at my bike tomorrow. Whatcha say?".

Hunter's turned on just by the fact you have been the one to ask. He has certainly had his fair number of situationships in the past; but he usually always have to be the one to make the first move. This time, however, he seemed to have catched your eye since the start; and you're decided to see this attraction through. He likes that, a woman that is self-assured and knows what she wants. He's happy it's him for this night.

He exchanges a glance with one of his brother's –the one with the headseat and the scomp– and then makes a polite gesture with his hand. He smirks playfully. You already know you'll be having a good time.

"Lead the way, mesh'la".

THE END.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Wohooo! This spicy little one was so much FUN to write! I hope you all liked it as well, specially the user that requested it.

I'll publish a Tech Mermay long oneshot TODAY AS WELL; and the next one planned will be a Wolffe one.

Stay tunned!

Xx,

Sky.

Back to my main masterlist here:

[bbrissonn]

𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐮 - 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐫 𝐳𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐬 (𝟔)

╰┈➤ a week after her album released, lanny has a special surprise for her fans

╰┈➤ pairing: trevor zegras x ex!singer!girlfriend

╰┈➤ social media + real life

╰┈➤ disclaimer: i made a shitty ass graphic for the special surprise, ik it's ass, but it's the best it's gonna get so no judging pls

╰┈➤ masterlist

༊*·˚

-OCTOBER 20TH, 2023-

༊*·˚

: ̗̀➛ alannaoregon has posted on instagram

alannaoregon

liked by jackhughes and 1.9M others

alannaoregon i guess i suck at keeping things a secret cause like all of twitter knew... BUT IM GOING ON TOUR LOVES !!!

i seriously cannot put into words how thankful for all the love and support you've shown my album in the last week, and just to me in general for the past four years.

all the sweet words and messages truly mean everything to me. some of you are a little crazy if i say so on tiktok, BUT I LOVE IT !!!

anyways, i can't wait to spend my nights yelling with all of you and interact with you !!!

love, lanny 🩵

view all 16,926 comments

becky.rivera can't wait to travel the world with you girl

alannaoregon @/becky.rivera who said you're coming? becky.rivera @/alannaoregon GIRL alannaoregon @/becky.rivera we're finally gonna go visit that one mamma mia spot becky.rivera @/alannaoregon SHUT UP IM SO EXCITED

_alexturcotte ok miss worldwide

colecaufield dont forget about us lan

alannaoregon @/colecaufield never coley

user72 girl six shows in the uk, but none in france??

user829 @/user72 no seriously, there's only one in italy !! alannaoregon @/user829 i can promise you that more dates are to come in the near future. this is only the first part of my first tour, and it certainly won't be my last :)

jackhughes can i get free tickets pls

alannaoregon @/jackhughes clean my room for the next five summers and i'll think about it jackhughes @/alannaoregon I'LL DO ANYTHING PLS IM BROKE trevorzegras @/jackhughes sure ya are bud, you got the biggest contract of all of us alannaoregon @/jackhughes YAH WHAT ZEBRA SAID, PAY FOR IT MISTER IT GIVES ME MONEY

user6290 OMG MOTHER AND FATHER INTERECTING IN THE COMMENTS

user0247 @/user6290 SO GLAD IM NOT THE ONLY ONE WHO SAW IT

jamie.drysdale ur putting me in a though spot rn lanny

alannaoregon @/jamie.drysdale WHAT DID I DO??? jamie.drysdale @/alannaoregon HOW DO I DECIDE WHICH SHOW TO GO TO??? alannaoregon @/jamie.drysdale why pick when you can go to both jamie.drysdale @/alannaoregon and third wheel during the summer too?!?! im staying in toronto thanks alannaoregon @/jamie.drysdale fake fan user278 @/jamie.drysdale THIRD WHEEL IN ANAHEIM???

user9291 lanny please don't make these tickets cost me a liver

load more...

༊*·˚

-REAL LIFE, ANAHEIM-

༊*·˚

"I'm so proud of you, Lana." Trevor whispered as his thumb rubbed the same patch of skin bellow the girl's eye. Her eyes were looking at him like he had hung the moon, while he stared at her with such admiration in his eyes.

"'M proud of you, too, Trevs." She answered, her voice low, making the boy chuckle slightly.

"Don't make this about you, love. You're going on a world tour." He breathed out, his voice filled with disbelief.

"Oh, now you don't wanna talk about you, huh?" She teased him. Trev let out a dry chuckle before bringing the girl close to his chest. The two were currently laying in Trevor's bed in hid new house. The boy finally decided he didn't need a roommate, meaning the two could now have alone time whenever they wanted. Well, Trevor likes to put it that way, but they both know it's because none of his teammate wanted to live with him anymore.

"This wouldn't be happening without you, T." She whispered against his chest, making the boy tense up slightly.

"In a bad way, or in a good way?"

"Good way. If I had never met you, I wouldn't have released my first album, and my career probably wouldn't be where it is right now. You're the best thing that's ever been mine." She whispered.

"You did not just quote Taylor Swift-"

"I did!" The girl giggled. Her boyfriend rolled his eyes before lifting her head and pressing a soft kiss to her lips. "Say it back."

"You are the most wonderful and amazing thing that's ever been mine, sweetheart." The Ducks player mumbled before pressing a hard kiss to his girlfriend's lips. The singer couldn't help but smile at his words.

This was the happiest she had been in a long time, and nothing was going to ruin it.

༊*·˚

taglist <3 @lxnceclercs @aliaology

[coryothesub]

Zoom Call

nsfw / mdni / sub!coryo / dom!reader

“Yes, I can arrange that,” you replied to your boss, waiting for your zoom call to end before being given even more new tasks.

The bathroom door opened and Coryo appeared wearing nothing but a white towel around his waist. He looked so good, hair still wet, tiny droplets of water glistening on his soft, pale skin.

You were already distracted and almost missed your boss asking you another question.

Coryo walked over to the kitchen counter, strutting like a little slut, a clear signal he was about to be bratty and annoying. 

He poured himself a cup of coffee and stood behind your desk, where your co-workers couldn't see him but you certainly had the best view at his slender torso and gorgeous face.

It was nearly impossible to keep focus as the familiar warm pressure started building in your lower abdomen. 

How can a girl pay her bills while having a needy brat like him in her house?

Coryo sipped his coffee with a shit eating grin on his pretty little face, clearly amused by your struggles. 

The boy wasn't an idiot, he was fully aware of the punishment that would await him. But there was one tiny detail. He enjoyed imagining what kind of torture you’d have in store for him. In fact, he got hard at the thought.

“Coryo, stop!” you warned him using the short moment when one of your colleagues provided her weekly report.

“What?” he batted his eyes innocently. “I'm not even doing anything.”

Such a brat.

Coryo moved slightly to the side so that your laptop screen wouldn't abstract your view below his waistline and you noticed the outline of his fully erect dick under the towel. 

He was gonna pay for this. Or maybe…

You raised your hand making sure it was outside the camera range and motioned your pointer finger signaling him to come closer.

Coryo's eyes widened in surprise. Had you decided to punish him right away? He obeyed and stood next to you, masterfully avoiding the camera range.

You switched on the mic to answer another question, praying for this meeting to end soon.

Without any warning Coryo unfolded the towel and let his hardened cock spring free, the tip hitting his toned lower abs and bouncing off a few times.

You marveled at his impressive length, biting your lip without realizing the camera was still on.

“Is everything alright?” you heard your boss’s voice through the speaker.

“Perfect!” you replied and switched off the mic along with the camera.

“You filthy little whore, you don't even deserve this,” you cursed, then leaned forward and licked a slick line from the base of his cock upwards to the tip, swirling your tongue around it a couple times, while pumping him at the base.

“Ohh,” Coryo moaned. He couldn't believe you were actually doing this.

He watched you with sheer desire as you took him in your mouth, pushing yourself further on his dick with each movement, establishing a steady pace. Your fingers wandered away from the base of his cock and started to massage his balls making his dick twitch in your mouth.

“We’re gonna need your opinion on this,” you heard through the speaker and pulled away from Coryo who frowned and the loss of the sweet sensation.

“I’m sorry, it seems like there's something wrong with my internet connection,” you spoke into the camera, trying to stabilize your shaky breath.

Your colleagues seemed to be buying your bullshit and you switched everything off again, eager to suck the marvelous cock exposed right before your eyes.

You took him back in your mouth, restoring your pace, moving your head back and forth, flattening your tongue to increase the sensation.

Coryo looked at your face, his baby blue eyes taking in the beautiful sight. You looked so hot, your eyes fluttered, cheeks hollowed, working so hard on his dick on your paid work time, only a click away from getting caught by your whole unit. Only the thought of that brought him closer to the climax.

“Fuck, you look gorgeous”, he moaned as your mouth swallowed his whole length the tip of your nose meeting his blonde pubes. You tried to swallow around his member which made you gag, tears forming along your waterline.

“Are you sure everything is alright?” you heard your boss's voice through your blissful daze and rushed to switch on the camera thinking of a quick way to explain your teary eyes and swollen lips.

“Yeah, everything’s good. I just crawled under the table to check the cables and some dust got in my eyes. You don't have to worry, go on.”

“Well, if your little problem hadn't occurred,” your boss cocked her eyebrow. “Then you would know that we're already finishing.”

They were finishing. Well, they surely weren’t aware who else was about to finish.

“Oh great, see you next week!” you left the meeting and slammed your laptop shut before anyone had managed to say goodbye. 

Coryo had been jerking himself off, careful not to make a sound and now he finally let out a sweet moan that turned into a desperate groan as soon as you got back to your unfinished business.

“You're gonna pay for this later, Coriolanus!” you hissed at him before grabbing his thighs and pulling him close, shoving his shaft down your needy throat. You let your brain shut down in a blissful stupor, fucking your throat on his cock with a salacious gobbling sound, gagging and salivating around him. Tears were streaming from your reddened eyes, but you felt nothing but sweet dizziness and your throbbing cunt getting insanely wet from sucking his cock alone.

“Fuck, this feels so good. So fucking good, mommy, I'm gonna cum,” Coryo rolled back his eyes as he exploded in your mouth thick ropes of cum spurting down your throat. You held him in place, fingers digging into the pale skin, swallowing around him repeatedly and making sure you were getting every last drop of his seed. 

Filled with his warmth, you let his cock out of your mouth with a small pop, and took a few moments to catch your breath.

Coryo still didn't quite believe what had just happened. You gave him a harsh look and shook your head in disapproval.

“What did I tell you about distracting me from work, Coriolanus?”

“I’m sorry,” Coryo's voice sounded shaky with pleasure and fear. He thought he was about to get the worst punishment.

“It's not my fault you look so beautiful when you're all serious and focused. Are you gonna punish me now?”

“No,” you couldn't help laughing at his confused look. It almost seemed like you’d managed to shut off his brain entirely.

“Turns out this is a very lucky day for pretty little sluts like you. You're in for another undeserved prize.”

You pulled down your pants baring your impossibly wet cunt and made yourself more comfortable in your office chair lifting your legs over the arms, causing him to bite his lip at the sight.

“Now get to work before I change my mind!”

[brsb4hls]

Good Omens Spoilers:

I'm off work now and can sort my thoughts a bit.

So far I've seen only positive reactions and some posts complaining about criticism (which I have not seen in itself).

I very much feel there's something missing in the discussion.

I'm not gonna spoil people's fun and I certainly will enjoy fan stuff, but I cannot stop being pissed.

And it's not about wether Aziraphale reciprocates Crowley's feelings and if they are a canon romantic couple or not.

That's not the point. The point also isn't dolphins, it is that I feel that Gaiman perverted the original core of Good Omens.

He might have done it for angst and a dramatic build up and he might resolve it if there will be a third season (which cannot be guaranteed, so THAT ending could be what we have to live with), but whatever the reasons, he did it and it leaves a bad taste.

To me the point of Good Omens always was that heaven and hell as a strict and rigid concept were equally horrible.

The 'good place' so to say was always earth.

And being a human on earth was about being accepted with all one's quirks and also making one's own decisions.

If I remember correctly those points are mostly made by Adam (who actually is the main character of the book, it just has so many colourful supports you wouldn't notice).

So Aziraphale and Crowley fit way better on earth, because they're both too unique for a rigid corporate structure.

They already are their own little team even if Aziraphale sometimes displays a holier-than- thou attitude and needs Crowley to remind him what he would loose, if earth were gone.

So they both defy their respective bosses to keep the niche they carved.

The first season of the show manages to keep that core statement despite changing the characters up a bit.

And it ends like in the book, with Aziraphale and Crowley fighting the system and winning, being free.

And now it's all set back and actually made worse by Aziraphale willingly going back, as long as he's in charge.

In the show, Aziraphale was bullied by his superior and now takes his job. He thinks he can change the oppressive system from the inside instead of abolishing it altogether, or staying clear of it, because it is 'toxic'.

And yes, I did notice that tiny bit of blackmail from Metatron regarding Crowley, but after all that happened THAT should have given Aziraphale a clue about what he is getting into again.

He also doesn't seem to suddenly know his best friend of 6000 years anymore.

Crowley never had a problem with being a demon. He had a problem with how hell treated him.

And a problem with how heaven reacted to asking questions, which is a thing he loves, so why would he want to go back?

On earth, Crowley was completely ok with doing minor mischief and performing demonic magic.

And Aziraphale technically knows that, but he tries to drag Crowley along for purely selfish reasons. And on top he seems to think that as a demon Crowley is not good enough anymore.

And that completely goes against the point.

The point that has been made very clear before and made book and parts of the first season so great.

Gaiman let the system win.

(and pull Aziraphale back in after he successfully got out. That's like someone taking back their horrible job at the factory that pays minimum wages and pollutes the environment as long as they're forman).

[ddejavvu]

Reader putting on nail polish and not being able to paint their right hand because they're righthanded and Hotch offering help (I feel like he'd either be very precise or completely fuck up)

everything about this request hinted at domestic boyfriend!hotch but my brain always always always goes coworkers to lovers mutual pining bau!reader so we're doing that <3

--

You'd pointedly waited until after the jet had cleared turbulence before you pulled your nail polish out of your bag, not wanting to spill lacquer all over the table. You'd gotten an 'ooh' from JJ at the color, a soft pink called 'nearly nude', but no one seemed to pay you much attention otherwise, letting you do your own thing.

Your first hand was easy enough. You painted your non-dominant, the polish smoothing on in clear, neat strokes. The result was rather pleasing, and you puffed up with pride until you realized that you'd have to switch hands now, and paint your dominant one.

Well, at least one hand would look good.

The handle of the brush felt awkward between your fingers, painting no longer a trained course of action like it had been in your other hand. Your hand was shaking slightly as you folded your fingers in on themselves, bracing your thumb against your pointer. Your tongue poked out from between your lips as you concentrated, but just before you could make contact with your nail a voice stopped you.

"Y/L/N," Hotch piped up from the seat across from you, "Would you like some help?"

Everyone's eyes were on you. JJ was being somewhat subtle, peering at you from behind her book with wide eyes, but Morgan and Prentiss ditched etiquette, standing up from across the jet to peer at what was happening. You looked up at Hotch with raised eyebrows, a questioning glint in your eyes, "With.. with my nail polish?"

"Yes." He nodded, "Your hand is shaking."

You wordlessly handed him the brush, watching in mixed fascination and adoration as your surly unit chief took your hand, his large fingers curling around your own. You let your hand go limp in his grasp and he adjusted it to his liking, his eyes laser focused on your pinky nail.

He started in, slow and steady with the brush, the paint coating your nail perfectly. The next nail wasn't as small, of course, so he had to use two strokes, but it came out looking just as pristine as the first one. His own nails weren't long, but when some of the paint bled into your cuticle, he scraped it off perfectly.

"You're good at this." You broke the silent reverie that had fallen over the plane while everyone held their breath. The sight of Hotch giving you a manicure was certainly not one they'd expected to see, and each of them were handling it differently. Some stared, some gawked, some pretended not to notice, but everyone was surprised.

"I used to have to paint my own with topcoat." He admitted casually, "They were splitting and it looked terrible. I suppose old habits just die hard."

Suddenly, the image of your grumpy boss sitting alone in his office after hours painting his nails was all that your brain could conjure. It was equally endearing as it was amusing, both reactions combining to spread a smile over your face.

Apparently your expression wasn't subtle, because Hotch glanced up, amusement shining in his own eyes.

"What, Y/L/N? Are you making fun of me for painting my nails?"

"No!'" You insisted, and he squeezed your thumb slightly in retaliation, "I just wouldn't have guessed that about you."

He sent you the ghost of a smile, his lips upturned ever so slightly to let you know he was okay with your lighthearted teasing. He finished painting your thumb, letting go (to your unexpected chagrin) and the result was better than the hand that you'd painted.

"I'm gonna come to you with all of my manicure needs," You inspected your dominant hand, awestruck at Hotch's precision, "I feel like I should pay you for this."

"I wouldn't mind a tip," He joked, rifling through his bag, "But I'm not done yet."

"You're not?" You watched him confusedly as he dug through his belongings, finally understanding when he pulled out a small bottle of clear paint.

"I knew I still had it." He set it on the table as he turned to zip up his bag, "Now, one coat or two?"