#and instead of him being this big boss he’s just this guy that hangs around

[impossiblearbiterlove]

Protagonist x secondary antagonist my beloved ❤️

[party-hearses]

relax, baby | joel miller x f!reader

pairing: joel miller x f!reader (NO USE OF Y/N)

rating: explicit, 18+ MDNI

wordcount: 5k

summary: joel is full of surprises at work.

series warnings/tags: pwp, explicit smut, v fingering, brief oral (f receiving), unprotected piv, creampie, pet names (princess, baby), language, no cordyceps outbreak, lmk if i’m forgetting anything. honestly, this is just filth.

author's note: i wrote this instead of doing homework. my smut abilities are a little rusty, so here’s my attempt at getting them working again. feedback and reblogs are appreciated if you enjoy! <3

“‘Sposed to be a scorcher today.”

“‘Sposed to be a scorcher every fucking day,” you mumble into the receipt book splayed open in front of you.

He isn’t wrong, of course. Just irritating. The Texas summer heat is unrelenting at best, but it’s not anything new.

“What was that, princess?”

You grimace at the nickname. Stupid fucking Joel Miller, your brother’s boss, taunting you while he rummages through the filing cabinet shoved into the corner of the room opposite you.

Your boss, now, too. Sort of.

“Nothin’.”

“S’what I thought.” He pulls his body up to its full height, having found what he was searching for. He holds the file of paperwork in his hands like a prize, slamming the drawer of the unit shut. “You’re lucky to have AC in here, princesa. Not like the rest of the guys, out there in the sun.”

You roll your eyes skyward at the jab. It hadn’t taken long for you to be branded with different variations of the nickname, which, much to your chagrin, isn’t even inventive. The names the guys call you usually revolve around your new position as “office admin” (a made up term), and the considerable comfort (if it could be called that) it offers. Low hanging fruit, in your opinion.

Your brother tells you to laugh it off, to take it as a compliment. A means of being accepted. It’s not worth the argument about power dynamics and the stigma of being a woman in a male dominated profession, especially for a temporary position, so you do your best to ignore it. It’s not like your brother would understand your points, anyway.

“You’re the boss, Joel. You don’t have to be — out there.” You wave your hand at the window, grimy with dust and…grime. Unknown construction grime. Men, you shudder.

“Oh, yeah? Guess I could just post up in here all day with you, huh?” He’s looking at you now, hands on his hips, smirk pulled across his mouth. He grips the file in his hand against his waist, strong fingers nearly crumpling it in half.

He’s irritating, but fuck, if he isn’t gorgeous. All taut muscles, graying scruff, and big, sad, brown eyes. It’s hard to keep your own eyes off him regularly, but it’s an exercise in futility the rare times you’re alone with him.

But you shrug, coolly, playing off the damning attraction you feel towards him. “I don’t care what you do, Miller.”

“Yeah?” he breathes, and he’s there, across the desk from you, palms planted face-down on the cool wood, chin dipped.

You swallow hard, meeting his smoldering eyes. It’s impossible not to notice his tee shirt, Miller Construction scrawled across the left breast, pulling against his chest and biceps. He’s so fucking big.

“You should care, sweetheart, ‘cause you run—” He leans in closer.

“—the whole—” Closer still.

“—fucking—”

You can smell the cedar and sawdust on him. The distinctly masculine scent. it makes your head swim.

“—office,” He finishes, inches away from your face.

Your eyes widen.

“I mean- uh, well, of cou-“ you stutter, but he’s laughing, pulling away.

Narrowing your eyes, you slam the receipt book shut. “Shouldn’t you be at a different site? Not here, bothering me?”

He grins, still chuckling lowly, permanently-tousled curls begging to be pulled.

“You tell me,” he says, gesturing to the now-closed notebook with his chiseled jaw. “You’re my keeper, ain’t ya?”

This fucking guy.

You blow the air out of your cheeks, exasperated.

“I am not,” you say slowly, through gritted teeth, “your keeper. I am helping you out by cleaning up your books and organizing some schedules, while I’m home for the summer. As a favor to my brother.”

He tilts his head, grin giving way to a sly smile. Saying nothing.

“Wouldn’t be working in a fucking trailer for anyone else,” you grumble pointedly, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I am payin’ ya, though.”

Joel tosses the file in front of you and drags a chair from the other side of the room — other side of the trailer — to a stop in front of the desk you’re seated at. He plants himself in it, kicking his feet up on the top of the desk.

“For real?” you cry, throwing your hands above your shoulders.

He laughs. He fucking laughs.

“Take it easy, princess. If I’m the boss, and I’m kickin’ back, why are you so high strung?”

Your brow furrows, but you don’t respond.

This strange, almost playful Joel is under your skin more than usual. It might be the heat (you won’t give him the satisfaction of admitting it), or the clusterfuck of receipts you should be reconciling (that he gave you at the last minute) — but you suspect the annoyance comes from his newfound interest in teasing you.

You suddenly miss the silent, brooding Joel Miller. The one who left you alone to do your work.

“I’m trying to help you,” you finally spit.

“You can help me by relaxin’, darlin’.” His voice is suddenly low, a deep timbre that vibrates your bones. “Do I need to help you do that?”

His words shoot straight to your cunt.

Instinctually, you press your thighs together, squirming in your seat.

It’s been too long since you’ve been touched, since you’ve been handled properly — the only viable hook-up options in your hometown being the losers you’d gone to high school with, which made them, well…not viable options.

Your body betrays you, need building low in your belly, and of course Joel notices the way you shift in the chair.

The entire tone of the room shifts, if you’re being honest.

“Oh,” his eyes as dark as his voice now, “you do need my help.”

You freeze. Everything in his voice spells t-r-o-u-b-l-e.

“No,” you squeak, “I- I-“

“You, what, baby?” It’s a taunting lilt now, and you feel like every nerve ending you have is melting straight off your body. He quirks his brow at you.

Baby, baby, baby, echoing in your ears.

He raises his body out of the chair, squaring his broad shoulders, and you think your heart might stop.

Making his way around the desk, hands ghosting the edges of the worn wood, his eyes burn into yours.

“So lucky all my guys are out at other sites, baby.” He’s whispering now, dragging his knuckle across your cheek, closer than he’s ever been to you. Looking down at you from his towering height. “So I can help you relax.”

There are stars in your eyes. You don’t even like this man, but his hands on you feel so good.

It’s surreal. You’re just a deer caught in the headlights, looking up at him with your big doe-eyes.

Prey.

You’re sure he’ll pull away again, laugh at you — laugh at the way your pulse picks up under his touch. How it beats against your skin like a bass drum.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he twists his wrist to cup your jaw, strong fingers digging into your flesh. Your lips part involuntarily, a quiet moan escaping.

“Wanna fuck you, princess.” His words are sticky honey in your ears, the nickname hot on his tongue. “Been wantin’ to fuck you.”

All you can do is nod. You’re done for. Putty in his hands, now.

“Can I do that? Fuck you?” He drops to a crouch in front of you, sliding his hand down your flushed skin to your throat, angling his fingers, the delicate webbing between his index finger and thumb pressed right to the base of your neck. He squeezes so so so gently — just enough to make you chase his touch.

“Yes.”

His eyes are black, pupils blown out in arousal. “You’ll be good for me?”

“I’ll be good for you,” you repeat obediently. Quietly. Only for him.

It doesn’t feel like you’re in control of the words leaving your mouth.

He crashes his mouth into yours, taking, taking, taking. Massaging your bottom lip with his scorching tongue, he begs for entrance — and you know in this moment, you will never deny him a single thing.

He licks into you with such a feverish intensity that you have to throw your arms around his shoulders just to remain steady. This action seems to spur him on, as he slides both his hands around your hips, one pulling you closer to him while the other crawls up to cradle the base of your skull, fingers threaded into your hair. He’s crouched over you entirely, nearly dragging you off the office chair. Your own fingers dig into the shoulders of his shirt, his thick muscles dragging you closer and closer to him.

Small in his hands, he breaks his mouth from yours only to haul you up and around, pressing your belly against the desk, your arms jelly as they brace against the sturdiness of the wood. He pulls your shirt up and over your shoulders from the back, peppering kissing up the exposed flesh of your spine, before discarding the garment on the floor. Your bra is next, and he wastes no time in chucking it too, to the floor and using his big hands to cup your pert tits from behind. His whole body is pressed against yours, the buckle of his belt scraping against the small of your back.

“Knew you’d have perfect tits,” he growls, next to your ear. His fingers expertly roll your nipples, massaging them into tight points. It makes you want to cry out. He licks a broad stripe up your throat, nipping the skin just above your shoulder, and this time, you do cry out.

“Be loud for me, baby. Wanna make you feel good.”

“What if s-someone hea-“ you start nervously, your voice shaking as much as your limbs.

Bracing his mouth against yours again, tongue forcing its way in to explore every inch, he cuts off the question you were going to ask.

Ignores the question.

He moves his mouth down your neck again, fingers still kneading against your nipples. Your eyes flick to the deadbolt of the door anxiously, but an extra-hard pinch pulls your focus back as you moan involuntarily. Loudly.

Obviously enjoying himself, he drops one hand to your tummy, sliding it over your soft skin to the band of your shorts.

“Gonna take these off now, okay, baby?” he asks between kisses and nips against your flesh, peppered with goosebumps.

You nod hurriedly. Need thrums in your ears, washes everything except his voice out.

His hand still cupping your breast joins the other in unbuttoning your shorts, and they’re off in record time. They fall to your feet, and you kick them off haphazardly, not caring where they end up.

The only thing separating Joel from you now is your panties, black and lacy and soaked.

You recognize, dismayed, that he still has all of his clothes on, but he’s too busy with his hands on you to notice.

He turns you around to face him, stepping back just enough to rake his eyes over every inch of you. You steady yourself on the edge of the desk with your hands, the hard corner biting into the soft flesh of the backs of your thighs.

“Fu-u-u-ck.” He lets out a low whistle, and for a brief second, you want to cover your body with your arms, slink away shyly.

But he has his hand cupped around your sex lightning fast, and he groans, low and primal.

“You’re so fuckin’ wet for me, baby. Soakin’ through your panties.”

He ducks against your neck again, landing kisses down the length of it, but going further this time, down your breast to take your nipple into his mouth. He suckles gently, hand moving back and forth over the white heat of your cunt, and you arch your back against him. Your body filled with a furious tension, tight as a bowstring.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Take y-your shirt off,” you demand suddenly, your hands scrambling for purchase on the the scratchy material.

He pulls back from you, and you’re left panting, three quarters naked. Nipples impossibly hard from both his mouth and the air conditioning, and you can tell he’s inconvenienced to be pulled away from them.

But he acquiesces, shucking his shirt off quickly, desperate to lave his tongue over your flesh again.

You take him in in the entirety that he’s allowed you — strong but soft, body molded by years of manual labor, rough hands desperate to be stroking you.

Not allowing you too much time, he resumes his stance in a hurry, splaying his hands across your back, nibbling lightly at the supple flesh of your breasts. He runs his tongue over the heavy curve of it, before dragging it across the plane of your chest to the opposite side, taking your other nipple into the heat of his mouth.

Keening under his touch, you mewl his name. Desperate.

“I know, baby. I know.” It’s muffled against the weight of your breast. His teeth just grazing the tender flesh.

He brings one hand around to the front of your panties again, teasing the band stretched over the place your thigh meets your pelvis with his calloused fingertips. The bite of them scrape a heavenly sting against your softness.

You rock your hips up into his palm, begging. Please, please, please. He chuckles lowly against your skin, still biting gently at your nipple, your knuckles white on the edge of the desk.

He breaks his mouth off of you, looking up to meet your eyes through his long, dark lashes.

There’s still one of his hands steady on your back, and combined with the way he’s got himself pressed against you, you’re sure he’s the only reason you’re somewhat vertical right now. The bones in your legs threaten to give out the more attention he pays your body. He ruts his erect length against your thigh.

“You want it so bad, don’t you?”

“Want it so bad,” you echo — his plaything.

“Should’ve asked me a long time ago. Teasin’ me constantly. Makin’ me fuck my fist at night like a teenage boy.” He straightens his body, allowing his thumb to dance over your clit through the material of your panties, but refusing to make direct contact. Making you chase the feeling with your hips.

The notion that he’s ever thought of you in that way makes your cunt tingle.

“Need it, Joel.”

You don’t have the words to tell him how long you’ve thought about him, how even though he pisses you off, you’ve wanted him to fuck you over this very desk since you started working for him. How it’s been too long since you’ve been touched and now you think you’re ruined in the most delectable way.

With a dark smile against your skin, he finally moves his hand over just enough, sliding four fingers down the front of your panties, thumb still on the outside, and fists the thin material. It rips down the seams, and in one smooth motion, he pulls the ruined lace from your body.

You gasp, cold air hitting your cunt.

He takes the destroyed scrap of material and palms his hard cock through his jeans, rubbing the lace against the front of himself. It’s obscene, and you can’t take your eyes off it.

Fighting to catch your breath, overwhelmed by his touch, you watch as he pulls back to shove what used to be your panties in his front pocket before unbuckling his belt, snapping it quickly out of the loops, hands flying then to unbutton and unzip his jeans. He finally shoves them down to knees, the length of them bunching up over his work boots.

Left in his boxers, you can see the thick outline of his cock, and he’s huge.

You had expected him to be big — like, look at him — but it’s more than you could have fathomed.

Your eyes drag from the heavy bulge back up to his face, and he must clock the apprehension in your eyes, because he extends his hand to your cheek, cupping it tenderly.

“Promise I’ll make it feel good. Won’t put it in until you’re ready.”

His hands are large enough over your face that his thumb traces the outline of your parted lips. Without thinking, you open further to accept it inside, swirling your scorching tongue around the digit.

His eyes darken further, though you didn’t know it possible.

“Oh, baby. Baby.”

His head falls back, jaw slack, enjoying the sensation of your mouth on him.

With his other hand, he slides his fingers through your swollen, dripping folds, gathering your slick on the rough tips. He circles your hole with his middle finger, and you can feel yourself clenching around nothing, needing.

“This okay?” he asks quietly, and you pause, meeting his gaze with your own. As calm and collected as he looks, his voice shakes just enough to tell you that he’s rehearsed this scene in his head so many times.

You don’t really know how you got here, if you’re being honest, but…

“Want you so bad, Joel,” you whisper, thoughts hazy, pupils blown out.

“Gonna fuck you ‘til all you can say is my name,” he whispers back gruffly.

It makes your cunt clench, his finger still poised there. Your chest rises and falls with ragged breath, anticipating. You can’t imagine how fucked-out you look right now, but based on the way he’s drinking you in, he loves it.

He finally presses his single finger inside of you, groaning at the warmth.

“So tight for me, princesa.”

The nickname hits differently this time — intimate. Filthy. Filling you with desperation.

You cry out at the stretch, his hands so much bigger than your own. One finger of his is the size of two of yours, and you’ve never felt so full. You snake your arms around his shoulders, letting him hold you up, his other hand falling from your cheek to resume it’s place at the small of your back, as he slowly starts a rhythm of fucking into you. His palm stutters against your clit, and you can feel your slick dripping down onto it.

It’s so much.

Your senses are overloaded with him, and he hasn’t even put his cock in you, yet.

He does, however, nudge a second finger at your entrance, and it’s enough to make you drop your forehead onto his broad shoulder, his muscles rippling as his wrist and fingers move against you.

You press your open mouth into his shoulder, muffling your cries.

Sliding his ring finger in beside the other, he scissors them, stretching you open, open, open, while at the same time he performs a much more precise ministration on your clit, rubbing small circles that make you squeeze your eyes shut. Chests pressed flush against one another, he buries his face in the length of your hair.

Despite the air conditioner, the room is humid with body heat, and sweat starts to collect at your temples. Every inch of your skin is flushed, Joel breathing heavily next to your ear.

“Want you to come for me, baby. Can’t fuck you right ‘til you come for me.”

You lean further into his body, under the trance of the rhythm of his fingers. He drags his free hand up the length of your back to wrap around your hair, gently pulling your head back to look into your eyes.

“uh-uh, baby. Wanna see you. Don’t hide.”

Your cheeks flush crimson, your eyes half-lidded, lips kiss-swollen. Seeing the way he studies you, the tip of his tongue resting on the pillow of his top lip, his fingers so big inside of you — your orgasm approaches quickly, your hips working with his hand to get you there.

Your breathing starts to stutter, and his eyes are on fire watching you. Memorizing every movement you make, how he’s taken you apart at the seams. He speeds up the movement of his thumb, just slightly, but it’s enough to tip you over the edge.

Convulsing around his thick fingers, you cry out, loud, loud, loud. The deadbolt on the door a distant memory.

In fact, you dare someone to walk in. To fuck with Joel Miller taking what he needs from you. They’d never recover.

“Yes, baby. Look so fuckin’ beautiful coming all over my fingers,” he growls, fucking you through the electric waves rolling through your body, tugging your hair harder.

He’s kissing you again, swallowing your remaining moans into his mouth, and you feel like you’ll never recover. You may never walk again — and it’s just his fingers.

Sliding his fingers out of your pulsing pussy, he drags them over to your hip, your own slick smeared across your abdomen. He drops his other hand to your other hip, and before you know what’s happening, he’s lifting you up on top of the desk. On top of the files, and receipts, and work you’d just been doing.

If he doesn’t care, then neither do you.

Obediently leaning back on your elbows, he sets you far enough back that he can hook his hands under your knees to pull them closer to you, your tennis shoes dangling between you. It makes you giggle, which makes him smirk.

But it’s only a second before he’s pushing your knees back again, opening you up to him. His eyes drop to your glistening pussy, pink and swollen from his fingers.

“Fuck, baby. Don’t know how long I’ve been waitin’ to see this little pussy,” he hisses, before dropping his head to lick a hot stripe up your wet center.

“Holy shit, Joel,” you breathe, “that feels so good.”

He licks his lips, your sweetness shiny on his beard. “Next time I’ll make you come with just my mouth, baby. Need’ta fuck you, now.” His voice is low, but the promise of next time wraps itself around your chest and squeezes.

You bite your lip, nodding, watching him through your lashes.

He gently sets your legs down enough that your feet drop to the top of the desk, but he keeps one hand on your thigh to keep you open for him — exposed.

“Won’t ever get tired of lookin’ at that pussy, baby,” he coos, “so keep it open for me.”

You’ve never been talked to this way before, and it sets your skin alight. Never been handled this way before.

You’re so fucked.

With his free hand he shoves his boxers down, his hard cock bobbing back up against the dark hair trailing below his bellybutton with a wet thwack. All of the blood you have left in your body rushes to your cunt (you’re sure most of it was there already), and your mouth pops open involuntarily.

You know you’re staring, but you can’t help it. He’s so. fucking. big.

“Will it…um, will-“ you stammer, gaze dragging up his body to his face.

He crowds you, a deep hunger in his eyes, hard cock in his fist. Poised at your entrance, pre-cum beading at the tip.

“Know you can take it, baby,” he growls.

“Okay,” you whimper, warmth blooming across your chest.

He slides his empty hand under your thigh, caressing the skin gently — a stark contrast from the way he’s gripping his cock with his other hand. It feels reassuring, almost tender.

“Ready?”

You mewl, scooting your ass an inch or so forward to egg him on. He grips your thigh, his large hand spreading all the way beneath it.

He presses into you slowly — excruciatingly slowly — but it’s enough to make you drop your head back and whine at the delicious stretch. He keeps his hand at the base of his cock, and you’re not sure if it’s for your benefit or his.

His eyes are glued to where he’s breached your entrance, watching you stretch to accommodate his girth, and it takes his breath away.

“Fuck, princess. So tight. So fuckin’ perfect for me,” he grunts, but it’s gentle, as if he’s in awe of you.

The sting of it gives way to furious pleasure, and you want him to move faster as he gives you more of himself.

“Joel,” you whisper, face to the ceiling, “faster, please.”

He grunts again, but feeds more of his cock into your hole, sliding his palm around the curve of your thigh to rub your clit. It send electric shocks through your limbs, your pussy clenching around him at the sudden pleasure radiating from your center.

Your knees are still pressed into your chest, folded practically in half, and he keeps going, and going, and going, until his pelvis is pressed flush to yours, bottoming out inside of you.

He stills, breathing ragged, to grip your jaw and bring your head down, saying through clenched teeth, “Lookit, baby. Lookit that. You took all’f me. The whole fuckin’ thing. I want you t’see.”

Your eyes, half-lidded, gaze at where he disappears into you, your aching lips strained against him.

“Made for me,” he says, and you can tell how much he’s restraining himself by the way he ticks his jaw and squeezes his eyes shut.

Thinking about anything but how fucking good your pussy feels wrapped around him.

“Fuck me,” you whimper, “Joel, please.” You lift both your feet off the desk, wrapping them around his waist in an effort to pull him in closer — to make him move faster.

“Baby,” it’s his turn to drop his head back, snarling at your tightness. But he gives you what you need, rocking his hips into you finally.

Pleasure swirls in your core, and you know it won’t take long. He’s still rubbing your clit, but the movements are erratic and messy, his focus on how good you feel on him. His other hand inches up your side, grabbing at your breast, anchoring himself to you while the bottom half of his body thrusts in and out of you expertly.

You’re both dewy with sweat, and as you’re lost in the way he moves against you, feeling the tip of him bumping up into the furthest depths of you, he leans forward and licks up a stray bead of perspiration rolling down your neck.

The eroticism of it makes your whole body shudder, and he gasps at the way your body reacts to him.

“Not gonna last long, princess. Feels too good,” he manages to spit out, subconsciously increasing his speed drilling into you. He can’t believe he has you open so wide, taking all of him.

He knew the moment he saw you that you were made to take his cock.

“Gonna come, Joel.”

“Come for me, baby. Gimme one more,” he encourages huskily, opening his eyes to watch you raise your hips to meet his every thrust.

Knowing that he’s watching you drags you higher and higher until the tension of your body snaps, soaking his abdomen with your release.

His hips stutter against you, and he stills as your cunt tightens even more around him, your walls fluttering against every inch of him. His thumb, still grazing your clit, presses into it firmly, making your toes curl.

“Joel,” you drag his name out in a harsh whisper, fireworks bursting behind your eyes. It’s never been like this. You can’t go back to it not being like this.

He’s right — it doesn’t take long, you whimpering his name pushing him past the point of no return, and he spills inside of you, his cock pumping every drop he has.

Your legs tighten around him, holding him in place as he slams both palms down on either side of you on the desk, a deep growl emitting from his chest. His tousled hair hangs in front of his eyes, his neck and chest flushed red.

“Fuuuuck.” He mumbles, sliding his cock out of you so, so slowly. As if he doesn’t want to pull out ever.

You release your legs just enough to let him step back, but as you go to close your legs, his spend dripping out of your stretched open pussy, he grabs your thigh and wrenches it back open.

“Waitaminute,” he grunts, and you can feel his other hand searching for something across the top of the desk, scrambling through the files and papers you had neatly stacked.

Busy trying to catch your breath, you don’t notice when he brings his phone to the front of you, opening his camera and snapping a photo of him dripping out of you.

“Joel! Ohmygod!” you giggle, as he smirks at you. Your cheeks flush deeper at the idea of him keeping that photo, of even wanting that photo, and you bat his hand away and close your legs quickly.

“I’ll delete it if’ya want,” he offers, but you both know that not what you want.

You hum teasingly.

“S’what I thought,” he says, running a gentle hand over your now-closed knees. “‘Sides, gotta keep something to remind you that you’re mine.” His hand follows the curves of your body to your tits, and he tweaks your nipple one final time.

Leaning in to kiss you, his tongue warm in your mouth, he whispers against you, “Better put your panties on, princess. Gotta keep it all inside you.” Prying your legs apart again just enough to slide his palm through them, he cups your sex with his large hand.

“You tore ‘em to pieces,” you whisper back, a dark smile on your lips. “Pretty sure what’s left of them is in the pocket of your jeans.”

“Mmm, you’re right. Guess I’ll have to fill you up again and find a way to make sure you can keep it in.”

Electricity shoots through you, and you miss his hand as soon as he pulls it away to drag his boxers and jeans up.

You drop your legs, despite how much they’re shaking, and pick up your clothes scattered across the room. Once you’re dressed (as much as you can be without panties), you stretch up on your tiptoes to kiss him again, while he does what he can to tame his hair with his fingers. It makes you laugh, and he matches it warmly. He kisses you again and again.

“Why don’t you, uh, take the rest of the day off? Done plenty of work here. I can clean up,” he smirks at you, nodding his head to the messy desk, where you’re pretty sure some of his cum had slipped out.

“Gee, thanks, boss. Can’t wait to get back to it Monday.” You wink at him, pulling your body away and picking your bag up from the coat rack next to the door. Hand on the doorknob, you glance back at him, a smirk of your own on your face.

“Oh, and because you didn’t ask — I am on birth control.”

His eyes widen in surprise, but you laugh and close the door behind you, headed home.

You don’t even know how fucked you are, yet.

[unclewaynemunson]

Okay so @willowworkswithwords sent me this fucking perfect prompt about Steve casually mentioning how much of an asshole his dad is is during a movie night at the Munsons and Wayne immediately shifting into Concerned mode, and I almost finished the thing but then tumblr glitched and i lost it to the void forever. I learned my lesson to never save anything to tumblr without backup ever again, buuut here it finally is:

Wayne first met Steve Harrington long before Eddie officially started dating the boy. He figured out that his nephew was head over heels before Eddie himself did. He hadn't been too thrilled about it, at first. In his experience, boys like Steve Harrington, with his big car and neatly ironed polo shirts, could only want two things from boys like his Eddie: drugs and secret encounters in the dark before he'd finally follow the path that was perfectly mapped out for him by his parents. But it didn't take him too long before he admitted that he had misjudged the boy. He noticed it even before Eddie himself did: Steve Harrington had fallen like a brick for his nephew, and he was in it for the long run.

He mostly met the boy in passing, whenever he'd come home from his night shift while Steve was just leaving the trailer park, or when he'd be heading out to get to work at the same time as Steve came by to pick up Eddie for a date or to hang out with that group of freshmen that Eddie would never stop talking about. The boy was always perfectly polite to him, calling him things like Sir and Mister, apologizing for being in his space and thanking him for the most ridiculous little things. Wayne thought it was a bit much, but he supposed that it was just how the boy had been raised, all formal and uptight. There was something behind it, however, a certain guarded look in his eyes, that always gave Wayne this uncomfortable feeling in his gut. He didn't quite understand what that was all about – until the three of them were having a movie night in the trailer on one of Wayne's nights off.

The two boys were all over each other on the couch, their legs entangled and their fingers intertwined, with their heads as close together as if they'd die if they wouldn't be breathing the exact same air. It made Wayne wish he had a camera on him; instead, he tried to imprint the picture into his memory.

He didn't care too much for the movie, which was about some rich teenage girl trying to break free from the restrictive uptown life that was suffocating her by getting herself some no-good boyfriend in a leather jacket – who Steve and Eddie enthusiastically agreed was a “hot piece of ass.” The main bad guy was the girl's dad, a character who checked off all the rich asshole dad stereotypes: suit that made him look bigger than he actually was, wife who let herself be bossed around by him at all times, and that kind of undefinable charisma, which made everyone else feel like all the air had left the room whenever he'd walk in.

'He kinda reminds me of my dad,' said Steve while leaning forward to get himself a handful of popcorn. It was just an innocent, offhand remark, and sounded perfectly nonchalant – but as he said it, the camera zoomed in on the girl's face to convey one single emotion: fear.

Steve leaned back into the couch and stuffed his mouth full of popcorn, getting crumbs all over his shirt and seemingly not noticing how both Wayne and Eddie had frozen by his remark.

Wayne met his nephew's wide-eyed gaze over the top of Steve's big hair. Wayne wasn't exactly a talkative person, and over the years in which Eddie had been living with him, they had perfected the art of silent communication, not needing more than some looks and gestures to have complete conversations with each other.

Wayne raised an eyebrow at Eddie, which meant something along the lines of Did you know about this?

Eddie responded with a barely-visible nod.

Wayne made a sideways movement with his head. Why didn't you tell me?

Eddie shrugged. It wasn't my place to tell, that meant.

Wayne nodded at him and turned his gaze back to the screen, but he was too preoccupied with other thoughts to properly shift his attention back to the plot.

'You wanna stay over?' Eddie asked Steve when the movie was finished.

Steve's eyes immediately flashed to Wayne's corner, that familiar guarded look in them. 'Um... Would you – would it be okay if I stayed the night, sir?'

'You can stay whenever you like, son,' said Wayne. 'And stop calling me sir, alright?'

'Alright, yeah, okay, sorry sir,' Steve stammered, which made Eddie burst into loud laughter. Wayne merely shook his head and got up from his chair.

He never sat Steve down for some official talk about his asshole dad – that wasn't his style anyway. He preferred conveying the message by little gestures: calling him “son” whenever he had the chance, refusing to be called “sir” ever again, giving him a key to the trailer, inviting him over to watch basketball together, taking him fishing when they both had a day off work... After a while, that guarded look finally disappeared from the boy's face. But it returned a couple months later, when Steve accidentally called Wayne “dad” in a distracted moment. Wayne didn't say anything about it; he merely gave the boy a pat on his shoulder to let him know it was okay. He didn't mind getting called “dad” by Steve Harrington for one bit.

[iicarused]

Hi Devil! Sorry, a little nervous cause i don't really make requests. They look to be open, but ignore this if they aren't. I was wondering if you could write general headcanons for yandere asmodeus (helluva boss)?

Thank you! :D

##i love you so!

y!asmodeus x reader

synopsis: general yandere headcanons

beware: DARK THEMES // yandere aspects, stalking, obsession, manipulation

you must be easy on the eye for him to fall for you. at first, he believed it was because he wanted a hookup — you guys did but then he hated seeing you walk out that door

has a knack of sending workers to keep watch on you, taking it as just being worried over you. the lust ring in hell is not the greatest to be, and that’s saying something compared to the wrath end!

soon enough, a workers eye isn’t good enough. he begins to sought you out himself with made up excuses to why he’s coincidentally around the places you are.

finds enjoyment when you get nervous, when he makes you nervous. when you look at him, smile up at him, laugh with him. he goes crazy over these things, no matter the gesture whether if it’s friendly or being awkward.

it’s very odd to see an overlord down bad for a dinner of hell, especially when you’re in close relationship to the imps.

begins to talk you out of hanging out with your friends and focus on him instead. taking you out, reminding you of plans that never existed before, whispers to make you think that you’re friends are the ones distancing from you.

it’s not long before he has you under his web, and it’s not terrible either.

soft love with gentle kisses to start your day. words of affirmation, gifts, quality time that’s spent everyday, he truly is smitten over you. but not in the way you think.

it’s only the matter of time where you live and ravish in his home, where life seems to never be dull since your face is well known in the pentagram. without needing to isolate you form the world, you’re stuck at his hip.

a gentle finger came to the side of your face, brushing against your skin before his lips pressed against your cheek. “another big night at ozzie’s, you scared?”

you hummed in response, leaning back against his chest. “no, not at all, not when i know you’re there.”

[jomiddlemarch]

let me lay down beside you

“Mmm, darlin’, you feel so good…”

Shit.

You’d thought the one silver lining of living through a zombie apocalypse might be that you’d never have to have another awkward, it’s-totally-me-it’s-not-you conversation with a man about why there was basically no chance he could make you come, including the I-really-don’t-want-you-to-get-carpal-tunnel-or-strain-your-TMJ-trying for those guys savvy enough not to have tried the You-just-haven’t-had-my-magic-dick argument. 

All the crunchy, New Age guys who were going to whip up an Ayurvedic smoothie with exact the right combo of herbs and ripe mango and enough turmeric to dye the sea gold had gone out in the first wave. Nearly all the herbs and certainly the mango and turmeric weren’t available in the continental US.

You were supposed to get something from the universe in exchange for surviving into this new world, a compensation that would make you not regret the choice to dump out all the Ambien your roommate had just gotten filled before she never came home instead of downing it in a nice cup of cocoa and then giving yourself a soft, slow dreaming death. 

No such luck.

“Joel, hang on,” you said, gritting the words out as he did something rather lovely to the side of your neck, one big hand cradling the back of your head. You drew in a breath, prepared to have to repeat yourself, because even if you weren’t getting there, he certainly seemed well on his way.

He stopped and pulled back. His hair, greying and not just at the temples, was mussed and there was a little bit of hazy desire left in his dark eyes, but he’d made it by paying very close attention and that included you.

“Too fast? I can slow down, slow as you like, darlin’,” he said.

“That’s not it,” you said, hating this part. Hating all of it, what was happening and what would happen, leading up to when he walked out the door. Joel was a nice man. He probably would take any cheap shots or do much beyond shrugging those broad shoulders of his. “It’s not too fast—”

“Too slow? Or is that somethin’ you don’t like?”

His lips on your throat, the roughness of his beard against the delicate skin over your carotid, yeah, you liked it. If only liking that and his hands on you was enough…

You were quiet, thinking about how you were going to tell him. Maybe there was a way where you really could stay friends. Where there’d still be nights he took out his guitar and sang Johnny Cash and Patsy Cline and you sang along, the firelight around you both, gold and shadow.

“Someone hurt you?” he asked, being careful. You both knew what he meant and understood how he was letting you be the one to decide how to say it. You both remembered what it was like early on and no one in Jackson was ever required to tell what had happened before they got there. You chose what you brought with you into the community, what parts of your past you’d leave behind.

“No, nothing like that,” you said. You could see the relief in his eyes, the way his mouth turned gentle.

“You wanna boss me around? I don’t have a problem taking instruction,” he said.

“Wouldn’t make any difference,” you remarked before you could think twice about it. He narrowed his eyes and you almost reached out to touch his jaw or his wrist, your right hand fluttering before you made a fist.

“No?”

“You can’t make me come,” you blurted out. “I don’t want you to waste your time—”

“Seems to me I decide what my time’s worth,” he said.

“I meant, you don’t have to do a whole song and dance,” you said.

“Wasn’t plannin’ on it,” he said. “Not a huge fan of musicals.”

“You know what I mean,” you said.

“Frankly, darlin’, I don’t think I do. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on? I’m not going anywhere unless you kick me out,” he said.

“You’ll go,” you said. Lying was essential to living After, but not lying to yourself. That was a death sentence.

“When you tell me to. Not before,” he said, settling back against the couch. 

“I can’t—I don’t come, fucking,” you said.

“That part I got,” he said. In some miracle, he didn’t start the usual litany, asking questions about position or skill, beginning every iteration What about…“How d’you do, y’know, flying solo?”

“Once in a blue moon,” you said. Though probably less often than that. You shrugged. “It’s whatever.”

“Before, probably could’ve tried a vibrator. One of those rabbits maybe. Still find them scavenging, but the batteries are all dead and kind of hard to ask Maria for some juice to get off,” Joel said, so practically and so without the least iota of irritation you were startled into a laugh. He took your hand in his, held it lightly.

“I don’t want to go but I don’t want you to feel bad,” he said. “Want you to feel good, that’s the whole goal.”

“You say that, but everyone wants to come. They want to get the other person off. I don’t want to fake it, to make you happy,” you said.

“I’ve had over forty years to fuck, darlin’,” he said. “I want to be close to you, that’s all. However you want it, long as it’s real. You want me to try shit that didn’t work before, I’ll try it. You have some idea you want to give a whirl, fine by me. I’ll go down on you or use my hands or pretend I’m fucking Captain Kangaroo and you’re Lady Aberlin if that’s something you’re interested in. And if you want to lie in bed or on the couch in sweats and that’s all, that all I want,” he said.

“Lady Aberlin was on Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood,” you said. This was not a conversation you could have imagined happening in any universe, with or without zombies, but Joel didn’t seem to mind. 

“Okay,” he said.

“You’ll get frustrated,” you said. You thought it would come out like a warning, but it sounded like you were floating an idea, waiting for him to tell you that you were wrong.

“There some rule I can’t jack off on my own? Or in your general vicinity?” he asked.

“No, it’s not like that,” you said. You couldn’t recall a man ever asking that or proposing anything similar. It was erotic, that was undeniable, that desire coupled with a total lack of demand—he hadn’t said anything about coming on your breasts or your belly and he would have, if that’s what he imagined. Parallel play, the old child development phrase from that college psych class you’d taken sophomore year, a thousand years ago when no one, even you, had ever thought to call you frigid bitch, the guys at college too self-absorbed to notice whether or not you climaxed.

“Doesn’t gross you out?”

“No. It’s hot. It’s not that I’m not interested in sex, making you come. Just hard for me to get all the way,” you said.

“That’s not all the way, you coming, screamin’ my name, headboard thumpin’ on the wall, wakin’ up the neighbors,” he said, bringing your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles open-mouthed. “All the way’s feelin’ safe, feelin’ like you can ask for whatever you want, say no to whatever you want. Being there in the morning, your head on my chest, hand on my heart.”

“You’re not going to try and convince me you’ve got some special move that’s going to blow my mind?” you said.

“If I had one, probably throw my back out tryin’ it now,�� he chuckled. “I like the way you taste. I like the way you sing under your breath when I play ‘Annie’s Song.’ I like the way you argue and how your ass feels against my cock when you’re the little spoon and and how it looks when you drag me out dance over at Tina’s. If we figure something out one of these days, yeah, that’ll be fine. And if this is what we have, it’s plenty for me. I wanna give you anything you want, that’s all.”

“Anything I want?” you said. 

“Everything, darlin’,” he answered. “What d’you want right now?”

“I liked what you were doing before,” you said.

“What we were doing,” he corrected, but without any scolding. It was an invitation, one you had no intention of refusing.

“Let’s do that,” you said. “But with less clothes.”

“Yeah?” he said.

“Yeah,” you answered. “Maybe I do want to boss you around. Take your shirt off.”

“Yes’m,” he said and the shiver that went through you was that hint of ma’am and the revelation of his bare chest and the gleam in his dark eyes. 

Maybe it was a blue moon. 

And if it wasn’t, he’d still be here, holding you in his arms.

@goodwithcheese I took you up on your suggestion to write something for one of your anons who was hoping for a fic with an anorgasmic f!reader and a soft Pedro character...

[13eyond13]

Any cute Yagami sibling headcanons?

Nothing really I haven't already shared before, so I'll just copy/paste a few of my previous answers for this question here: YAGAMI SIBLING HEADCANONS: -I think Light genuinely feels very protective of Sayu and his mom, though he tries not to overtly reveal this to them a lot (as he’s not the most demonstrative guy with his affections to anybody most times)

-I think Light and Sayu played a lot of Nintendo together growing up. And one of Sayu’s favourite childhood things was wedging herself behind him in the computer chair when they got their first computer and watching him play games on there, too (Light was always keen to patiently explain his strategies to her as he went)

-I think Sayu was one of the only people Light actually felt close to and goofed around with a lot, since he always kept a bit of a polite distance with his school friends -Sayu doesn’t like having her friends over to visit because they always end up crushing on her big brother and wanting to follow him around the house instead of hang out with her... she got used for this quite a few times by other girls in her class, unfortunately

-When Sayu was born Light wasn’t the type to throw a fit about not being the baby anymore, but actually very excited to have a sibling, and took to being a big brother right away and teaching her stuff and bossing her around

-Sayu’s crush on Hideki Ryuga means that Light has gotten way too familiar with his music by hearing it so much around the house. Light will often absent-mindedly start singing and humming his biggest hits to himself when he’s working or studying, and then get annoyed with himself when he catches himself in the act (and Sayu will also tease him mercilessly about it if she does)

-If L had ever been invited over to the house during the university arc to pretend to study with Light, I bet he'd have done something like peek into Sayu's room and see all the posters of Hideki Ryuga on the walls and then pretend to accidentally mistake it for Light's room. Which of course, Light would be silently fuming about, but mostly because inwardly he'd be going: "YOU KNOW FOR A FACT THAT'S NOT MY BEDROOM BECAUSE YOU PUT 64 HIDDEN CAMERAS INTO MY ACTUAL BEDROOM, YOU ASS"

[samanthaa-leanne]

Working for the sport promotion division of the Japan Volleyball Association was a dream come true. You loved everything about marketing and getting this job proved that you were one of the best in your field. A bonus of the job was that you got to work with your best friend Kuroo. 

You and Kuroo had known each other practically your whole lives. He was the one who introduced you to your now husband Kenma. You were all close throughout middle and high school and your bond had only gotten stronger throughout the years. 

It wasn’t long before your job realized you and Kuroo were the best employees they had. They sent you guys out on business trips together and gave you all of the important clients as a team. You were both wonderful individually, but when you guys worked as a team, it was a masterpiece. You complimented each other's work styles and brought out the best of each other. What did they expect? You have known each other for 20+ years. 

When you got back from a business trip you saw an announcement on your office door that the annual work Christmas party was being held in a week. You loved going to the parties to chit-chat with your coworkers. You and Kuroo were on the road a lot so you didn’t get to hang out with them a lot. 

When you got home you mentioned the party to your husband. You knew he probably wouldn’t go, he never did, but you asked every year just in case there was a chance he’d say yes. Kenma was a homebody and that didn’t bother you at all. You loved spending nights in, snuggled in his arms, while you either watched a movie together or watched him play his game. 

Your marriage was perfect. You didn’t need to go out and party or have people over. You loved coming home to someone who was so low maintenance. Especially since your job was so high maintenance. You voiced that to him every chance you got. You never wanted him to feel like he wasn’t enough, but the truth was he was everything you’ve ever wanted. 

You were surprised when he said he’d join you at your party this year. You had asked him 3 times a day if he was sure he wanted to go. You knew he didn’t like big parties and being around a lot of people. He assured you that he wanted to go and it would give him a chance to see his best friend. He hadn’t seen Kuroo in a few weeks since you guys had a big project you were working on. 

The party started smoothly. You introduced Kenma to everyone and your coworkers loved him. They thought he was the cutest thing. Once Kuroo saw Kenma he pulled him away and showed him around wanting to spend some alone time with his best friend. 

Halfway through you and Kuroo got pulled into an emergency meeting. There was a problem with one of your clients and your bosses needed you to fix it right away. You made sure your husband would be okay while you dealt with it and he assured you he would be fine. While you and Kuroo were talking with the client you could feel your husband's eyes on you. 

The meeting didn’t take long. You and Kuroo worked your magic and had smoothed everything out. When you went back to the party your husband was nowhere to be found. You figured his social battery had drained and you ended up finding him in your office. 

“Ready to go home?” You asked from the doorway. 

Kenma just nodded, getting up from your office chair and following you out to the car. 

The car ride home was quiet and you had a feeling something was bothering Kenma. He was acting more strangely than normal. When you closed the door to your home you couldn’t believe the words that came out of his mouth. 

“Do you wish you married Kuroo instead of me?” He asked, his voice low and his eyes locked onto the floor. 

“I’m sorry what? Of course not! Why would you even ask me that?” You demanded, confused as to where this was coming from. 

“There’s something you guys are keeping from me. I’ve noticed the texts and the whispering when you guys don’t think anyone is looking. Are you…” he paused, lifting his eyes to meet mine. “Are you cheating on me with him?” 

“Of course, I’m not. I love you. Do you understand me? YOU. I’ve loved you since the moment I met you. You are everything I never knew I needed.” You said as you moved closer to him.

“You're right, I have been keeping something from you. Kuroo only knows because of how much time we spend together.” You grabbed his hands and put them on your stomach. “I’m pregnant.” 

Kenma looked at you, then his hands on your belly, then back to you. His face broke into a smile. “Wait really?” He asked, excitement oozing from his voice. 

“Yes really.” You answered with a laugh as he pulled you in for a hug. He held you for a few minutes as he cried before pulling back to kiss you, tears falling from your face. 

“We’ve been trying for so long. I’m so sorry I got jealous and accused you of cheating on me. I love you so much.”

“It’s okay sweetie. I love you too.” He kissed you again before lowering his head to kiss your stomach, whispering something to your unborn baby. 

You didn’t think you could love him any more than you already did, but in that moment you realized your love for him was endless.

[finalgirlfae]

girls got rhythm, randall “pink” floyd

summary: y/n gets a little too tipsy at a party and randall takes care of her

pairings: randall “pink” floyd x f!reader

genre: fluff

note: this might be a little inaccurate because i’m not a drinker i’m a stoner🫠

music blasted through the speakers of the house as you danced with a red cup full of beer in your hand. it was one of those better summer nights, not too hot and not too cold. it was the perfect amount of warm with a cool breeze overhead.

“having fun?” jodi asked, laughing at the way you danced when you were drunk. you looked like one of those babies who just learned to walk, stumbling around and tripping over yourself a little. this was truly one of the better nights, no more stressors of school and exams. just partying and being with your friends.

you gave no verbal response, just a big smile paired with you tossing your hands in the air. since your cup was full of budweiser the action caused the beer to splash, falling on you and jodi.

“you bitch!” jodi laughed and playfully smacked your arm, she wiped the spilled beer off her face. “i’m gonna go find darla,” jodi began to leave but turned back around and took the cup from you. “and no more drinking for you.” she teased, pointing a finger in your face.

you puffed at her, dramatically crossing your arms over your chest. “you’re not the boss of me.”

she placed her hands on her hips, matching your energy with a smile before walking closer to you. “no but i’m your best friend. same difference.”

you turned away from her, “whatever.” jodi laughed as she watched you stumble away, nearly tripping over your brown wedged heels. they went great with the high waisted denim bell bottoms and dark purple halter top.

you walked around the party, passing through sweaty bodies and clouds of smoke before reaching the other end of the house and finding the man you were looking for. slater.

“slater!” you cheesed, dragging out the last syllable of his name. he smiled at you, obviously high off his ass right now. “y/n, what’s up man?”

you turned to make sure jodi wasn’t behind you before turning back to slater and whispering, “you got a joint on you, man?”

“man you know i do.” he giggled, digging in his pocket before pulling out a pre roll. “$15 bucks.”

you raised a brow at him. “15 bucks? man the only reason you’re at this party and not home studying for summer school is because i helped you cheat in bio.”

he rolled his eyes. “fine. 5.”

you smiled and pulled a 5 dollar bill from inside your shirt. he cringed at the bill as you placed it in his hand. “really? boob money?”

“mhm.” you snatched the joint from him. “closest you’ll ever get to the twins.” you spoke, squishing your boob as a joke before backing up into the crowd again. on the other side of the house in the kitchen pink was leaned against the counter, listening to o’bannion rave to the guys about the hookup he allegedly had with some college girl.

“i’m telling you man, she was spinning on my shit.” o’bannion raved, getting overly excited about the memory. pink only shook his head, taking a sip of his cup full of ginger ale. he was a designated driver tonight, so it was no drinking or smoking for him.

“she was bouncing on my shit like a god damn bunny rabbit. i swear to you man those delaware chick are wild.” benny sipped his beer and patted o’babnion on the shoulder. “yeah buddy, sure you did.”

“i’m telling the truth!” he was starting to get riled up again. “pink,”

“huh?” pink looked up from his cup, staring at his friends. it’s not that he didn’t wanna be here, but it’s just that he’d rather spend his time with his girlfriend instead of sitting around listening to the guys rave about how many girls they fucked this year. the only reason he came to the party was to see you, you had been hanging with the girls for the last few days and didn’t really get a chance to see each other.

“what do you think, man? they think i’m lying.” o’bannion was clearly already drunk, pink could tell by the hiccups in his voice. he humored his friend, patting him on the shoulder

“you want my honest opinion?”

“uh huh.”

pink shrugged. “i think you’re a pig.”

the group laughed and pink smiled a bit, sipping his soda.

“you only say that cause you don’t like to kiss and tell.” o’bannion put the cup down and pointed a finger in his face. he walked over to pink, tripping over his own feet in the process and falling into the counter. “if i was with a girl like y/n you’d never here the end of it.” he hiccuped at the end of the sentence.

“okay!” donny spoke, gripping o’bannion’s shoulder and pulling him away. “let’s stop talking crazy before randall breaks your face.” donny pulled the drunken boy out of the kitchen and maybe outside to sober him up a little. it was bad to let o’bannion run around unfiltered and full of alcohol, who knows what’d he’d say?

“randy!” it was dawson’s voice called out to pink, he was peeking his head through the door frame of the kitchen.

“what?”

dawson motioned quickly with his hand, calling pink over to him. “you gotta see what y/n is doing right now man. she’s dancing with darla.”

“oh shit,” pink grumbled. he put down the cup and quickly followed dawson out the kitchen and to the dining room of the house where the music got louder.

i been around the world

i’ve seen a million girls

ain’t none of them got

what my lady got

you were stood on top a table with darla, both of you shaking your hips and attracting even more of a crowd. people stood around the table, calling and cheering the both of you on.

pink liked to call you and darla the evil twins because every time you two were paired together with music and substances, nothing good was to come of it.

she stealin the spotlight

knocks me off my feet

she’s enough to start a landslide

just walkin’ down the street

he pushed through the crowd until he was at the table. pink stood next to jodi who had her arms crossed and an amused look on her face as she watched you and darla dance.

“and you just let this happen?” pink spoke above the music, crossing his arms and not pulling his eyes off the way your body moved.

jodi shrugged. “you know you can’t stop y/n when she parties. look at her.”

pink and jodi both tilted their heads, looking at the way you pressed your back to darla and how the girl began to grind against you.

wearin dresses so tight

and lookin like dynamite

about to blow me away

“i’m not gonna lie, i’m actually a little jealous right now.” pink spoke to jodi making her laugh. darla had a firm grip of your hips and definitely wasn’t letting go any time soon. she turned both of you, making you face pink as her arms slid around your waist and rocked you to the music. she smiled at your boyfriend, sticking her tongue out and continuing to dance.

no doubt about it

can’t live without it

that girl’s got rhythm

“yeah,” pink spoke, watching how the both of you moved. “enough of that.”

jodi laughed as pink moved closer to the table, wrapping strong arms around your legs and lifting you up. you screamed a little as you were thrown over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes and carried out of the living room.

pink walked back to the kitchen and sat you in the counter, looking at how your face pouted. “you are such a party pooper randall floyd.” you slurred, leaning back and hitting your head on the cabinet. you groaned in pain. “ow.”

“how many drinks have you had tonight?” pink stood in between your legs, looking at you closely and running his hands over your thighs.

you titled your head at him, ignoring the question completely. “you’re so pretty.”

your boyfriend smiled at you and laughed before digging in his pocket for the car keys. “yeah, i’m taking you home.”

“noo!” you whined out, gripping his arm. “i wanna stay and dance.”

“you are way too fucked up to be here right now. you smell like a dispensary too.” he spoke, commenting on the heavy weed smell from the joint you had smoked earlier.

“i haven’t even smoked tonight.” you lied, rubbing his arm gently. pink looked down at your manicured fingers and how they traced over his muscles. he gripped your hand, stopping you from feeling up his arms. “nice try, you can’t flirt your way out of this.”

“noo let me stay. i promise, im good.”

pink thought about it for a second. “alright. if you can walk in a straight line back to the living room i’ll let you stay.”

you smiled deeply at pink. “observe.” you spoke in an overly cocky tone, sliding off the counter top to stand. you stumbled a bit, the room was spinning in about three different directions and right now to were regretting the shots you took with darla before your impromptu table dance.

you turned your head to pink and he gave you an amused look, motioning with his hands for you to go on. you turned back and took a deep breath.

just walking in a straight line, i can do it

you could’ve even take a full step before you came crashing to the floor. luckily your boyfriend had fast reflexes and was able to hook your waist with his arm and tug you into his chest before you fell down.

pink kissed the side of your head before whispering in a teasing tone, “you’re smashed.”

you didn’t respond, much too embarrassed to justify yourself to him right now. pink put your arm over his shoulder and kept his arm around your waist as he began to walk you out of the house. when you reached the front lawn you got away from him stumbling around a few before falling on to the grass.

pink sighed. “you plan on getting up?”

“it’s so comfy.” you muttered, rolling over on to your back. the cool grass was a nice feeling in your drunken state, it felt good against your skin.

“i’m sure it is.” pink spoke, getting in his knees and pulling you to sit up. “but you know what’s he even more comfortable? your bed.”

your eyes widened at his statement. “that’s so true!”

he couldn’t help but laugh at you, pulling you up to stand and practically dragging you to his car.

“you really are so beautiful, you know?” you smiled, looking at pink as he unlocked the car door. pink smiled back at you, “thank you. you are also very beautiful.”

he opened the door to the backseat and helped you in, reaching over and clicking your seatbelt for you. he was so close and was making you feel so strange and it didn’t help that he smelt like heaven.

“do you have a girlfriend?” you asked making him turn his head. pink’s confusion turned to laughter.

“yes, as matter of fact i do.”

“fuck.” you tossed your head back, “she’s so lucky.”

pink sighed. “y/n, you are my girlfriend.”

you snapped your head up at turned to him. “i am? aww that’s so sweet.” you smiled, cupping his face and bringing him in for a kiss. he could taste the alcohol on your lips and normally he wouldn’t like that, but it was you so he couldn’t resist kissing back. you pulled away from the kiss after a few seconds, “i love you.”

he gave you his full smile. “i love you more.”

pink cupped your face, “okay, let’s get you home.”

“so we can fuck?”

he sighed and and pinched your cheeks before letting go of your face. he decided to humor you. “yeah, as soon as you sober up i’ll show you a good time but for now let’s focus on getting you in bed- to sleep.” he closed the back door, sitting in the driver’s seat and turning on the child lock. he wasn’t taking any chances with your safety.

“why not now?” you whined, slouching forward and pressing your face to the back of the drivers seat. the leather was cool against your face. pink backed out of the driveway and pulled on to the main road as you sat up straight.

“because you’re drunk. that’s why.”

you were silent after that, leaning back fully into the seat and looking at the cars and houses he drive past on the main roads.

he checked on you through the rear view mirror numerous times through the the drive, just making sure you were good and weren’t like- choking on your own vomit or something.

when pink pulled on to your block he drove cautiously, saying a silent prayer that your parents weren’t home.

he parked in front of your house and pulled the keys out of the ignition, silently thanking god that your parents were away.

pink opened the back car door, taking off your seatbelt and picking you up. you grumbled incoherent nonsense and he walked up the front door, using the house key in the lamp to open it and pull you upstairs to your room.

pink sat you on the bed and immediately you flopped over on your side. the room was still spinning and the weed mixed with the alcohol made you feel like you had no gravity pulling you down the earth. right now you were simply floating in the stratosphere. pink laughed a little and pulled you to sit up.

“what do you wanna wear?” he asked as he took off your shoes for you. he began to look through your dressers for cloths after that.

“i really want doritos…”

pink sighed. “as soon as we get you changed and in bed you can have all the doritos you want, sweetie.”

he pulled out one of his old jerseys from your dresser and smiled, it was all the way from sophomore year.

“you kept this?” pink asked, walking over to you with a smile. you looked at the jersey and nodded.

“yeah, it’s comfy.” you flipped over again causing him to sigh. pink moved his hands to your pants, unzipping your jeans and pulling them off before helping you put on some shorts. after your pants were changed he removed all your bracelets, necklaces and rings. he left the room for a second before coming back some makeup wipes and a brown wash cloth.

you laid there, watching and letting him take care of you. when he finished changing your clothes he removed your makeup and then pressed a cold wash cloth on to your forehead.

“do you think you’re gonna throw up tonight?”

you only nodded a bit, sitting up and using what ever strength you had left to stand. again, the room spun and you fell back. pink gently grabbed you, sitting you back down on the bed. “woahh, take it easy babe.” he grabbed the wash cloth and pressed it all over your face. “what do you need? i’ll get it for you. just stay here.”

“water please.”

pink nodded and kissed your head, tucking your body under the covers and leaving you in the room for a minute.

he came back with a glass of water, a bag of doritos and a bucket in case you puked during the night.

pink began to walk towards the door but immediately stopped when he heard your voice call out. “you’re leaving?” there was a slight hint of sadness in your tone that made his heart soften.

“no, baby. i’m not leaving. i just gotta go grab some clothes from the car and i’ll be back.”

you nodded and laid down. as soon as your head hit the pillow, you were out like a light. when pink came back into your bedroom, he was careful to be quiet and not wake you. the boy had changed into a black shirt and some flannels to sleep it. he turned off the light, walking over to the bed and slipping in with you.

even in your sleepy state, you felt his body press against yours and his arms wrap around you. soft kisses where placed on the side of your face until both of you fell asleep.

[mysteriawrites]

Nijisanji En with an Actor S/O

Ft. Doppio Droscythe, Ike Eveland, Luca Kaneshiro, and Ren Zotto

An: request for @fruitogi

Doppio Dropscythe:

When you joined Xsoliel you had joined the theater club. You had a love for acting so you thought that it’d be fun.

You were in many plays and worked up to being one of the usual picks for lead. Doppio was so proud of you and would be in the front row for every performance of yours.

However this time you were in the classic play of Romeo and Juliet. On top of that you and your costar were really close with one another in order for you to have good on stage chemistry.

This didn’t sit well with dear old Doppio.

Sometimes he’ll sit in on practices and just get all pouty whenever you have a scene with your costar or as he calls them “his love rival”

If you ask him why he’s pouting he won’t admit it though.

He’ll also get really clingy and possessive about it too. Always touching you, especially if your costar is around, and trying go draw you attention away. Might even flash his fangies at people.

You eventually catch on and either he’ll deny your claims and act like he doesn’t know what you’re talking about, or he’ll look like a puppy who did something wrong which will incline you to give him extra attention.

He’s a jealous giant and we love him.

Ike Eveland:

You and Ike were working on the same movie/play. However while you were and actor, Ike was the script writer (and helped with the music and mixing sometimes).

You guys were working on a romance movie where you were one of the romantic leads. What was worse is it was a pg-13 film so you definitely had some suggestive scenes in there too.

As much as Ike hated to admit it he was feeling pretty jealous.

He knew that it was all part of the job and just for show, but he couldn’t help but wish it was him doing those things with you instead.

Because Ike is ashamed of his feelings he may become a bit quieter and distance himself a bit.

Throwing himself into his work so he doesn’t have to think about the green eyed monster gnawing at his heart.

Once you notice it and talk to him about how it’s normal to have these feelings and how he shouldn’t be ashamed of them expect him to get a bit clingy with behind closed doors.

In public he’s as professional as ever, but when you two are alone he needs to make up for lost time ;).

Luca Kaneshiro:

You were a famous actor working on your latest film. Of course Luca being the big important mafia boss he was and since he was one of the people funding productions, he was able to come watch you work.

Of course he loved and supported everything you did, however he wasn’t so supportive of your costar.

And he wasn’t subtle about it either!

He knows what a big, scary, and intimidating guy he can come off as to some people and baby is petty so he uses that as much as he can.

He’ll come up to you after shoots bearing gifts like coffee and snacks and just glare at your costar while you’re not looking.

He’ll also be very touchy and clingy in front of them to show that you’re his S/O.

If you take a break between shoots to hang out with him and start talking about your costar he’ll try to change the subject. He’ll also get pouty when you have to go back to set.

He thinks he’s being subtle, but you notice everything. If you point it out unlike Doppio, he’ll fully admit he’s jealous while wrapping his arms around you and pouting.

He’s a jealous puppy give him love.

Ren Zotto:

You and Ren also work on the same movie. You’re one of the actors and he works on the music.

While Ren is indeed jealous of you and your costar, he tries to make light of it and joke it off.

He trusts you and knows jealousy is normal especially when you have an S/O as amazing as you. It makes him feel proud.

Of course that doesn’t mean he won’t feel the need to be a bit possessive sometimes. He’ll be more flirty affectionate with you in front of others if that was even possible.

He’ll try to make friends with your costar but also lowkey try to subtly make them understand that you’re his S/O.

He’ll also be more cuddly when you guys aren’t working.

Overall he’s pretty lighthearted about it, but not above jealously.

[not-alien-girl-v]

Caramel (Ross Macdonald)

warning: language, reference to the inseam incident that i will never elaborate more on but love to reference over and over again

note: continues in this fluffy lil mini series that sorta starts here. i think i might continue this into a little mini series because i like this dynamic and i think i need more of y/n and ross in this universe. if you want to, you can imagine all the ross one shots i write all exist in the same universe cuz that’s what i do.

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

it’s been 2 days since ross forcefully entered came to check in on you at your shared apartment with violet. you’re still on your period, so of course, you’re still finding it difficult to look ross in the eye without succumbing to your wildest dreams, so instead you made plans that are essentially a huge turn-off for you: hanging out with his friends.

“do i do eyeliner for this? is this, like, an eyeliner occasion?” violet questions while pretending she’s not as frantic as she truly is. she sits on the bathroom counter, having knocked over a few things on her climb up but you decided not to pester her about it.

“it really depends on who you plan on talking to.” you are sitting in the empty bathtub, fully clothed and a throw pillow hugged to your stomach. the bathroom door is closed and violet forgot to put on music so both your voices fill up the room, slightly echoing with enough enunciation.

“give me a run through again?” she pleads. you’ve done it twice, so you assume this last time is the last time but for real this time.

“first there’s adam, he has a girlfriend so he doesn’t care. then there’s george-“

“that’s the other big one, right? the blond?”

“we’ll he’s not actually blond, it’s just bleached. and very fried too. so if you’re into a man with a thicker head of hair, then you’d want to go for matty. but he comes with his own things to think about.”

“like?”

“i’m skipping ahead, sorry. so george, he’s very nice, very sweet guy, he is the other big one, he’s 6’4. smokes a lot of weed, like a lot. aside from his occasional forgetfulness from that, he’s very kind, very polite and respectful, very much a feminist. and he loves dogs.”

“well, i’m more of a cat person.”

“and you’re out of luck there. all his friends are dog people. you’ll have to adjust. anyways, then there’s matty. he’s like the ‘wattpad bad boy’ of the friend group, i think he got voted most likely to be a mafia boss and purchase a girl named ‘y/n’ from her junkie mother.”

“can you maybe like tell me something relevant about him?”

“that is relevant. he’s a little shorter, curly hair, a lot of tattoos, i mean, they all do. i think george might have the most, actually. he’s a bit of a dick at times and i know he means well or he’s mean in a comedic manner but more than often he just gets on my nerves and i know you have a much shorter temper than i do.”

“so you’re saying i should try to talk to george more.”

“i’m saying you should be careful. men are unpredictable and weird. and gross. you heard about the inseam incident, didn’t you?”

she visibly shudders. “god, how could i forget? fucking grotesque…”

she turns back to meet her own reflection in the mirror, staring blankly, but soon realizes how easily you dodged her original question. “wait, so eyeliner or no eyeliner?”

you give her a long, studying look. “eyeliner.”

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

you hold the door open for violet, always feeling like a gentleman to her damsel whenever she’s around. the inside of the boys’ house is much warmer than outside, and it feels like home, if home was a set temperature.

matty and george bicker over something in front of the tv, a case of dvds, maybe. adam is balls deep in conversation with his girlfriend, carly, while he pets allen, george’s matty’s dog. ross is in the kitchen grabbing a soda and a beer when he turns around at the noise of the door being opened.

“there’s my girl!” he exclaims, seemingly tipsy before the party has even begun. he drops both beverages on the kitchen island and circles around to give violet a brief side hug and you a much more substantial one. he squishes you in so tight you feel your ribs crack and splinter under the weight of it and he’s warm like a home should be. “good to see you, violet, you ready to meet my mates? they’ve been giddy about your arrival all day.”

“fuck off, we have not!” matty hollers over his shoulder and while his head is turned, george swiftly sticks a dvd of his own choice into the player and stands up, fleeing from the scene of the crime. he dusts his hands off on his jeans and reaches out to help his friend off the floor.

once matty realizes what has been done, his jaw drops in offense, and pettily, pushes g’s hands away and reluctantly stands up on his own. he stretches his arms up high and his back and elbows crack in the process. you’re much more used to his antics than violet, so you know he’s only doing this action to make the bottom of his t-shirt ride up, revealing his happy trail and his sexy tattoos.

this isn’t just some weird head-canon you have for him, you’ve actually heard him admit to this trick before when attempting to woo a woman.

ross leads the two of you over to the three men loitering the living room. “violet, this is adam,” adam doesn’t stand as the dog is in his lap, but he gives a humble wave that suffices, “matty,” violet doesn’t need to be pointed to who matty is. he stands and smiles widely and wraps violet in a hug.

“bold,” you mutter. matty flips you off behind violet’s back. you roll your eyes but he doesn’t catch it.

george approaches then, exuding a strange energy you’d never seen before. not from him at least. “and i’m george,” he extends a hand for a firm handshake, and when you watch violet agree to it, you can see him squeeze her hand just a smidge too tight.

they both are so weird. why can’t they just act normal around your friend?

“why are you two acting like freaks?” ross speaks the words right from your mouth and you feel a strong sense of adoration for him the way he can just simply share a thought of yours.

“no reason. anyway, we’re watching 'monster house,'" george dismisses and fetches the beer ross had been in the process of grabbing for him. while in the kitchen, he grabs two more sodas, holding both the cans perfectly in one large hand and you wonder what it must be like to possess such an ability.

ross drops down onto one end of the large couch, leaning into the arm of it and matty gets comfortable on a single arm chair, not leaving much opportunity to sit near violet and you start observing the weird male hierarchy that is already set in place when a new female is introduced to the ecosystem. were they like when you first met them all? you never bothered to ask, it never happened across your mind.

george returns with the sodas and hands one to you and one to violet, ever the gentleman, and sits down on the other side of the largest couch in the room.

“hey, wasn’t that coke supposed to be mine?” ross complains.

“there’s only two left. and y/n and violet are guests, so if y/n would like to share with you, that’s on her.”

ross sticks his tongue out at george’s back when he turns to fuss with the remote. you join the men on the couch, sitting a distance from ross and he immediately pulls you closer than close, you’re basically on his lap at this point. you’re confused at this sudden pda but then you notice it gives violet enough room to squeeze in right next to george on the couch. stupid unspoken male hierarchy rules.

you hand the soda to ross, not even having to ask or say anything at all, he knows it’s his official boyfriend duty to crack it open for you. he does exactly that, stealing a sip of it before handing it back. you squint at him.

you are sly when you side eye violet and george, completely eavesdropping on their gentle conversation but acting like you’re caught up in your own with your boyfriend. if you didn’t know any better, you’d say ross was listening in as well. you’re so in sync with him.

“i moved here after high school, my family is back in california,” you hear violet inform him and george looks all too interested.

“that explains the accent. it’s not everyday you hear an american, especially around here. why didn’t you go somewhere cooler like london?”

“y/n and i used to live there but then she started studying here so we made the move together. and sorry about the whole accent. it sounds a little silly compared to you guys, i know.”

“it’s not silly at all. i’ve actually always found it quite sexy, the american speak.”

it would sound like a load of bullshit if it were coming from anyone else but george is always so sincere in every word he says, you decide to leave them be for now.

you turn back to the man next to you. “can i kiss you?”

he scrunches his eyebrows, “since when do you need to ask?”

“i’m wearing lipstick. it’s gonna get on you. it might be… i don’t know… embarrassing.”

“why would it be embarrassing to have visible proof i just kissed a girl?”

“so that’s a yes, then?”

“kiss me any time. i love your lipstick. get it all over me if you want to.”

you decide to take that as a challenge and use both your hands to hold him down still, kissing every inch of his face that isn’t covered by the dark, coarse hair of his beard.

it takes him by surprise, so he sits still in shock for a few moments, letting you make a complete mess on his face, before finally retaliating, grabbing your face this time and kissing you properly.

“ew, get a room,” you didn’t even notice matty in the corner on the chair, now wrapped up in a thick blanket and pile driving a bowl of popcorn completely solo, looking like a young girl menstruating for the very first time.

ross wraps his arms around you, cradling you protectively into his neck. “mind your business, dickwad. watch the movie.” you mumble something into ross’s neck and he lets you loose so you can speak up. “what’s that?”

“douche canoe.”

he cackles in laughter, “yeah, you’re a douche canoe.”

matty rolls his eyes and you’re more than content with his irritation, so you finally give it a rest and cuddle back into ross, enjoying his warmth since matty stole both of the couch blankets.

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

taglist: @indierockgirrl @itssimpleanditgoeslikethis @americanangel @butyou-callmewhenyourebored

[bronx-bomber87]

Happy Monday all :) Just realized we are over halfway done with s4. Crazy ha Naturally after an intense Chenford ep we have the next one be little lighter. Sadly they are missing 90 percent of this episode so it'll be a shorter one. But there is good moments of growth and such. Let’s get going.

4x13 Fight or Flight

Lucy is attached to Nolan’s helicopter kid situation. Which robs us of any Chenford in this episode. Thanks a lot Nolan…I could tell that kid was suspect af in the elevator and I’m not even a cop. John asks for Lucy to ride with him so he can get into this kids mind. It is awesome she is sought after for her psychological experience. We all know Nolan isn’t going to be able to do that…

We get a little crumb at the beginning of the episode. Tim was clearly waiting for her. I love how he instantly supports her. Doesn’t question why she’s helping or upset she is doing that instead of them riding together. Only that if she needs anything he is there for her. Little moments make my heart happy. So I shall take them in lighter eps.

We do get some good Tim and Angela moments which I will always be happy to enjoy. Tim runs into her and she tells him she has an old ‘friend’ of his in for questioning. He was pulled over and had a diamond bracelet in his car. It’s tied him to a home invasion that left 3 people dead. I do love getting a look into Tim’s work past and former arrests. Which ones are hang ups for him and such. She asks him if he’d like in on the interrogation?

Tim of course jumps right on it. Once he’s in the box Dez is deny deny deny about the bracelet. Saying he got it for his mother and lost the receipt. Ok buddy... Noting he was working the night the home invasion occurred. That his boss would confirm that for him. Watching Tim take charge in the interrogation is *fans self* Not to mention the bicep and forearm shots in this. Killing me softly sir.

Besides him looking fine af just sitting there I always enjoy watching him take charge in any capacity. .i.e. this moment. Why I love Metro Tim so much. It's sexy the way he walks over and commands his attention. Tries to connect with this guy. Knowing they have a past trying to use it to their advantage. Also him using words like recidivism getting me all hot and bothered. Idk why it just is LOL Anyways lets get back on track....Tim tells Dez he knows he wouldn’t have killed anyone. But they need his help to catch the people who did harm that family. They just need a name. He gives them the name of his lawyer instead. Wah wah

Seeing Lucy with Nolan it’s hard to believe they were ever matched up. Boggles the mind really. Just in how they’re approaching this situation alone. Lucy gets an ID for this kid from dispatch. His name is Leo Thomas. He's just a teenager. Nolan mentioning well adjusted kid’s don’t steal police helicopters. Lucy going on to say could just be teenager attention-seeking behavior. Trying to standout and establish their identity.

How it’s gotten so much worse with social media. She isn't wrong. I can only imagine. Its way more than when I was a teenager. Not to date myself but I only had myspace and facebook for most part and I didn't even use FB till like 2008 honestly. Oh and instagram. I think lol My point is as a millennial we didn't have the amount of platforms that are around now. It's insane. I can't imagine trying to establish an identity on them.

So Lucy saying social media having an impact on behavior is accurate. I believe that. It’s funny how John asked for Lucy to tag along and to get in the kids head. Then when she does he fights her on it a little. *eye roll* Also why am I not surprised he was a boring teenager? LMAO This doesn’t shock Lucy either. Him questioning her being a rebel. With the parents she had growing up? I have no doubt she was. You don’t know her like that John and it shows…

Nolan tries to connect with Leo now that he knows his name. John doing a big swing and a miss with him right off the bat. Trying to connect over now his family is sick with worry. Goes over like a lead ballon. He gets back on track with him though. Asking about learning to fly through video games? How impressive that is. Nolan starts to get some traction with the video game bonding. Leo begins to open up saying usually in a game how the main character survives through allies.

He asks John if he’s an ally? Lucy nodding her head fervently. Unreal how he needed to turn to Lucy for that answer. Do love her directing this whole thing though. What a downgrade from Tim eh Lucy? heh. Leo tells them they need to go on some quests first. Then they can talk about him landing this helicopter. John is skeptical to say the least.

Its why Nolan keeps biffing it with this kid. Honestly it’s a wonder he got put on this kid at all. Good thing Lucy is there to steer the ship. I love love love her being the leader on this. Look at our bad ass. Questioning his decision making skills and backing it with rock solid logic. Also sound psychology. You know the whole reason he brought her in the first place......

Nolan may have a good connection with people but he doesn’t have the logic and emotional intelligence Lucy does. John is ready to throw in the towel but Lucy isn’t. She crushes it with some damn good logic. Explaining why he should give into this kid and what he wants. It’s like he completely forgotten why he was assigned this kid in the first place. To build rapport and get him down on the ground. Good thing Lucy is there or this would be going so much worse.

He sends them on their first quest. To what looks like drug den. Saying he lost a raven haired girl he used to like from there from an OD. He couldn't save her but they can at least take down the monsters who caused her death. We find shortly after that was a lie. Since he has been home schooled for the last year. Nolan tries to get him to come down after one quest. Of course he doesn’t. It’s like John hasn’t caught on to the game here lol They ask for their next quest and he asks if they like alligators? HA

We return to Tim back at the station. He’s called in Dez’s boss to verify his ‘alibi’. At first he’s corroborating it until Tim says he’s suspected of triple murder. Tim dismantling Dez's alibi within minutes of meeting this man. I love it so much. His boss immediately amends his statement and says he paid him off. To clock him in and let him go and he did the same thing for tonight as well. Tim reports this back to Angela ASAP. That they don’t have time to wait for his lawyer. They have something far more pressing. Another target to locate. If they don’t figure out where that is more bodies are going to drop.

Lucy and Nolan are on their second quest. This part cracks me up. Dude they’re arresting is defending his alligator. Saying Cupcake is a sweetheart. Lucy’s reply cracks me up ‘Cupcake ate my taser’ LMFAO. His attachment to this creature is intense to say the least. The good thing about this second quest is there is a pattern though. Both quests have involved big drug arrests. Nolan tries to press the kid for it and nada. He continues on to tell them they’re going to have their final quest soon enough.

Tim shows up at Dez’s house mid-search. He instantly goes into sexy Sergeant mode. Asking Webb what they’re found so far? It would appear nothing at the moment. So Tim takes over the scene. I love watching him in action. So confident and sure of himself. While teaching in the process. Yum Yum. Sexy teacher Tim is in the house.

Just takes control of this search and makes it more efficient. He's so good at his job. Also he is growing as a Sergeant. Took control without fully taking control and doing it himself. He delegated his team to re-work their search pattern. Look at him go. So proud of him. Growing as a leader makes my heart happy to see.

We circle back to helicopter kid. They are slowly putting the pieces of the puzzle together. The guy they just arrested works with his mom’s BF. He's a known associate of his. It would appear they have a drug distribution chain going on. That one of the dealers they sell to was arrested and had to do with quest number one.

Lucy jumps in with her POV. This is why Nolan brought her along. Love watching her flex her psych brain. That muscle innate in her as she analyzes this situation. We finally find out why Leo took the helicopter. That quest #3 is to save his mother from her drug dealer BF. The problem is they don’t have any evidence linking this guy to what they’ve found today and he only has 40 minutes of fuel left…

We jump back to the house with Tim and his team. They still haven’t found anything linking Dez to the 2-11. Tim has an epiphany and calls in a bomb sniffing dog. Explaining that they look for ingredients for a bomb or gunpowder from an illegal firearm. That's what they need to implicate Dez. I will also take Tim Bradford talking to a dog all day long. Ovary explosion for me. *fans self* The way he roasts this dog for getting distracted by a squirrel LOL I’m dying I love this man so very much.

Thor eventually finds exactly what they’re looking for. Pawing at a spot Tim is able to crack open and find the evidence they need. Look at him listening to all past advice Grey gave. Not showing up to a scene early. When he does he delegates and doesn’t take over completely. While still teaching in the process of that delegating. He would be proud. Lucy too if she could see this.

Grey is able to get Murray to flip on Brian. Using cupcake Lmao it’s hilarious. Wants to make sure she’s taken care since she ate Lucy's taser. So he rolls on his partners including Brian. All for his alligator's well being it's too damn funny. Grey is delighted that’s all it took. Nolan and Lucy are able to complete quest number 3. They have him fly over his house so he can see them arresting Bryan. Telling him it is finally time to land that helicopter. He agrees and says he’s been air sick for hours ha They arrest him once he’s landed. Lucy looks so sad about it but they really don’t have a choice in the matter.

Tim returns to Angela with the evidence they needs against Dez. He flips once Tim has hard evidence against him. Gives them every job, every crew member and what they’re going to hit tonight. They catch up to the getaway driver fairly easily. It is fun to watch this bad ass duo work together. Question him easily about the men inside and what they’re walking into. Tells them three men are inside the house not including himself.

They find out 2 of the 3 are upstairs looting. While the third is hovering over the family with a gun. Angela doesn’t want to go in hot with this third guy. Worried he’ll hurt the family in retaliation. Tim tells her then they go in a different way. A way I very much approve of. Why you ask? We get Tim Bradford in a TIGHT white t-shirt. Pretending to be a delivery guy. Mmmm just look how taut that shirt is across his muscled chest.

Sweet baby James this man is fit. Could wash clothes on those washboard abs of his. Don’t get me started on the gun show that is his biceps. Popping out of those sleeves. We also get some nice forearm action as well in these shots. Nothing for me to analyze except his beautiful form in these gifs. Imma need some ice water. This man does things to me. *ahem* Let's get back to the story at hand...

Tim knocks on the door. Angela has the getaway drivers phone. So she texts the gun happy third guy it’s just food delivery. This gets him close to the door where they want him. Once he’s close enough they push through a flash bang grenade. Taking him out pretty quickly. Then we get to watch some poetry in motion.

Tim and Angela moving like badasses to secure the house. Just a couple besties taking down criminals like it’s nothing. These are some great shots of these two. I would like more Angela/Tim shots in s6. Just add that to my s6 wishlist haha Metro and the detectives working together be fun to watch. If I can’t have Chenford I’ll take Tim/Angela moments.

We started with a crumb and we get to end with a crumb. I love Tim being the one to initiate a drink after work. He’s grown so very much makes me wanna cry. We all know it’s because of his relationship with Lucy. Our hardened grumpy Tim while still grumpy has grown a lot. Look at him not only doing post work hang but making jokes. Saying it’s all on Nolan ha! Such a nice moment. Until Grey comes over and says Cupcake broke free from animal control LOL Angela's reply is the best 'Who's Cupcake?' So very confused haha

Not a lot of Chenford but good moments and growth none the less. Next episode will be a good one for them.

~~~

Side notes- non chenford

Well this entire episode was that haha I did enjoy Harper’s SL with Aaron and him trying to get that man justice. His reason why behind it and all as well. He develops very nicely as a character. I do love having him around a lot.

[manjirot]

consume

“Maybe if I was born as a boy instead and mom was around then maybe, just maybe… I’d be forgiven…”

kakucho x fem!reader

bonten timeline, arrange marriage, soft sex, fingering, kidnapping, ran being a HUGE tease, implied child abuse, super daddy issues, unprotected sex, pregnancy, violence, murder, angst, pstd

chapter one

“Woah, hold up! You’re saying Gure L/n of the biggest underground gang has a daughter?” Ran Haitani asked in shock.

“Uh huh,” Rin nodded. “I over heard boss and Sanzu talking about a big deal that’s about to go down that has something to do with Gure-sans daughter.”

“Hm interesting,” the older Haitani said, leaning back in his office chair. This deal was quite interesting to to him because of dealing with a woman and nonetheless the infamous Gure L/n.

Just then, Takeomi knocked on Ran’s office door. “Mikey wanna see us all in the meeting room,” he said with a cig hanging from his mouth.

The two brothers nod at the older man and got up to make their way to the meeting room where everyone was waiting. The room was silent until Mikey finally spoke, “I’m aware you all know Gure L/n is, right?”

Everyone nodded. “Well, last night we came to an agreement. He’s willing to give us territory if one of you marry his daughter.” Mikey explained.

The room went quiet again, more quiet than it was before. “Boss, are you sure this guy isn’t bullshittin’ you? How you know he’s just not using his daughter to get intel outta us?” Kokonoi asked.

“Gure-San been doing this since I was a baby.. and I been doing this long enough to know when someone is bullshittin’ me and if he was I would’ve killed him” Mikey replied. “He’s legit.”

“Now, which one of you is jumping the broom?” Mikey asked coldly. The men looked around at each other as if they were subconsciously saying I’m not doing shit, you do it.

These men are whores. They loved sex, women, temptation, money and drugs. Being tied down to one woman was a big no no.. I mean where’s the fun in that, right?

Ran looked around the room and saw Kakucho in a world of his own. Stoic as ever. Mans probably haven’t had any pussy in months or years so this is a perfect opportunity for him, Ran thought.

“I say Kaku-chan,” Ran said, “I say Kaku should marry her. Kakucho grumbled in response.

Mikey looked at Kakucho, “are you against it Kaku?”

“No. No I’m not.” Kakucho answered.

Mikey stood up, “then it’s settled.. Gure-San will bring her tomorrow and you’ll meet her then.” And he left out the meeting room.

“Y/n! Come here,” Gure yelled from the living area, lighting up a cigar.

“Yes, gure-san,” you approached your father as he sat in his big chair facing away from you.

“You remember Mikey don’t you? Anyways I just got off the phone with him and he found your bride,” Gure said.

Oh right…

“Gure-San, about that… I wanna go to college and maybe think about marriage later, you know! Wait let me show you something!”

You ran back to your room and grabbed your sketch book and back to the living area, “see Gure-San! See all these drawings! I really enjoy drawing and I been going to this art class and my art teacher said if I just go to college I can real—”

SLAP.

Gure slapped you… “all I hear you talking about is college this, college that. I bend over backwards for you and this is the fucking thanks I get??” he screamed, veins visibly showing in neck and forehead. He grabbed your sketchbook from your hand and scanned through it and pulled out his lighter, “how bout I get rid of this shit?”

Your eyes widen, “NO PLEASE GURE-SAN!!” you begged, you got on your knees. “I- I’ll marry him, just please don’t burn it!”

Gure threw the book down, “you’re meeting him tomorrow…” he said before sitting back down in his chair, “and y/n, do something that’ll make me proud for once in your life.”

You got up and walked back to your room sobbing into your bed… you remember the first time you called your father “daddy” he looked at you with so much hatred and told you to refer to him as Gure-san. You’d get beaten if you’d slip up and call him daddy and you never understood why he held so much resentment towards you until you over heard him telling one of his subordinates how he felt about you.

“Y/n is the reason why the love of my life is dead.. she had to be born as a girl… that’s why I can’t never ever love her as my flesh and blood.”

Hearing that come from him shattered your heart. You never knew what a mother’s love felt like or a strong father’s love felt like either… you’ve always thought to yourself “maybe if I was born as a boy instead and mom was around then maybe, just maybe… I’d be forgiven…”

It’s the next day and the men of Bonten are standing around waiting for you and your father arrival.

Ran teasingly wraps his arm around Kakucho neck, “aye, if she’s ugly you can always put a bag over her head!” Kakucho didn’t flinch a muscle as the other men giggled expected for Mikey to Ran’s joke.

A black suv with tinted windows pulls up slowly and comes to a complete stop. The driver gets out and opens the backseat doors where Gure gets out first to shake Mikey’s hands. “Where’s my daughters bride? Gure asked in a serious tone.

Kakucho walks up to Gure and bows, “Kakucho.. it’s a pleasure to meet you Gure-San.”

Gure chuckled, “I should be saying that to you, Kaku-Chan! Mikey told me all about you and I think you’re a bad ass motherfucker!!”

Rin bumps Ran with his elbow, “Kaku is totally getting embarrassed,” rin whispered.

The older Haitani chuckled, “I know.” This was a comic relief to ran because he lived off of making Kakucho feel uncomfortable.

Gure whistled, “man you’re huge too! Broad ass shoulders! Wait, how you get that cool ass scar?”

“Ahem…” mikey grumbled.

“Oh, ahem, meet my dau- I mean your wife.. Y/n L/n.” Gure said. You walked from behind Gure and approached Kakucho.

As soon as you stopped in front of Kakucho, Ran was hypnotize by your beauty. Your body was alluring. Your face was so pretty, the only you had on was lip gloss which made you even more attractive.

You bowed to the man in front of you, “it’s a pleasure to finally meet you Kaku-san. I’ll do my best as your wife.” You lifted yourself back up and smiled at him and Ran almost had an heart attack because only an angel smile so sweetly like that.

He wanted you and he had to have you.

[dulcewrites]

Thin line between love and hate

Pairing: austin!elvis x reader

Summary: You always thought Elvis hated you, and vise versa, despite your boyfriend’s attempts to create a bond between you two. But then again they always say the line between love and hate is thin (wc: 1221)

Warnings: Cheating, Jerry being a bad boyfriend

A/N: sort of just wrote this on a whim. hope y'all like it. please reblog, like, and follow if you do 🫶🏽

Masterlist

You’re a calm person. Even your mother said you were that subdued as a baby. Being able to quietly handle things and people life threw at you was a trait you had perfected. That being your said, sometimes your laidback nature comes off cold. Ice princess: you were used to that name being thrown around about you.

It was no different when you met Jerry. Your girlfriends dragged you out of the house a year and a half ago to see Elvis when he came to New York for two shows. You didn’t give him much to work with when he came up to you before the show, telling you he just had to speak to you. It wasn’t to be mean, it’s just how you are. But his sweet smile, and kind persistence was endearing. He, for reason, wanting to stay in touch after leaving was more that you expected.

And now here you are, in Vegas… living on a loop. Wake up, hang with the same men, meet the new girls they bring in, get all dressed up, and see the same show put on by the same man.

It’s hard for you to remember that time. Him taking breaks from the tour to visit you. The letters, the phone calls, and flowers. He was so sweet. What the hell happened? Where did that Jerry go? It’s hard for you not to blame him for your boyfriend’s behavior.

Elvis is like a supernova; he burns so bright and powerful no one can look away. But eventually every supernova collapses to a dull star. Or worse, they turn into black holes that suck the life out of everything. Being in his orbit was sucking the life out of you; you’re sure of it.

When you decided to move out to Vegas months ago, the relationship between Elvis and you started as polite small talk, then turned into passive aggressive moves. He makes a sly comment about being surprised you’re still around, clearly hinting at your boyfriend having other options. You decide not to come to one of the shows; a big no no for anyone in his circle. A game of cat and mouse. One day you’re the mean girlfriend that’s holding Jerry back from his duties, the next he’s the high maintenance boss everyone babies and coddles.

Maybe both assumptions you guys made about each other are true. Neither of you have played nice like Jerry pleads for you guys to do.

But something shifted after Priscilla leaves. You shouldn’t feel bad for him. You had seen first-hand how he is on the road and in Vegas, plus Priscilla had always been good to you. Despite that, you couldn't help the way your heart sank for Elvis when Priscilla confided in you about her unhappiness.

“I know I might not be the person you want to talk to, but I’m here if you need someone,” the words come out before your brain registers how it sounds. If it’s one thing Elvis hates, it’s pity.

But to your surprise instead of saying something that would lead to another standoff between you and him, he nods and gives your arm a squeeze. Since that moment, things have been different. Not perfect, but better. Well better between you and Elvis; you wish you could say the same thing about your relationship with Jerry. 

It gets bad on your birthday of all days. Elvis insisted on throwing a dinner party. At first it sounded like an excuse for the boys to drink and invite people you don’t know, but the earnest smile on his face makes you stupidly agree. You’re taken aback at how he takes care of everything including surprising you with inviting your friends from back home.  

Things are good and light, and you feel so pretty in your new dress. And then it hits your boyfriend is nowhere to be found. You try to ignore the extremely empty seat next to you, and the looks your friends give you. Or ignore the whispers between the rest the of Memphis Mafia, Elvis included.

You smile for the pictures the photographer is taking. You drink and indulge more than you have in a long time, you dance with your friends, and eventually you forget about how hours ago you were planning how to get the hell out of Vegas.

Elvis pulls you out to the balcony of the restaurant/bar after whispering in your ear he wants give you something. You find yourself trying not to stare at the sliver of bare chest you see under his suit jacket, trying to chalk it up to the glasses of champagne.

You blink slowly when he pulls a ring box out of his pocket. 

“I know things started off rocky between you and me. But I think have been changin’ and for the better,” he says softly, standing in front of you. “I know it’s not easy, but we want you here. I want you here.”

A lump grows in your throat. He knows about the problems between you and Jerry. If they weren’t obvious before, they are now. And he knows the type of woman you are. Disrespect is not something you just take. You suck in a breath when Elvis opens the ring box. A shimmering pure solid gold band, engraved with your initials on one side and TLC on the other side. It’s not the usual gaudy pieces of jewelry used to see him dish out.

You let him slip it on your finger and stare at it for a moment. It hits you all at once that you’ve been blaming this man on how your boyfriend treats you. When in all actuality, if Jerry wanted to do right by you, he just would. You feel his finger curl under your chin to lift your head up.

“When you’re one of mine, I’ma take care of you, and that goes for you too darlin’” 

You genuinely don’t know what to say to that. A thank you doesn’t seem like an adequate answer. You don’t know what comes over you when you lean up and kiss his cheek. And you surely don’t know what comes over him when he turns his head, his lips grazing against yours. One of you should pull away but it doesn’t happen. It’s fucked; you’re doing the same thing you suspect Jerry has been doing behind your back, and with his best friend.

But that idea doesn’t stop you from push your lips against Elvis’s. The kiss is sloppy and needy and it’s everything you haven’t been getting from Jerry. You feel one of his hands slide lower and lower down your backside. His lips move from yours to jaw, then right under your ear.

“Come to my room when we get back to the hotel.”

It wasn’t a question; it was an order. And with that, he just turns to go back into the building. You stand there, dazed and wondering what the hell you just did. You wait for the guilt to kick in, but instead you straighten your slumped shoulders to walk back into the room. The thoughts of Jerry slip away as they’re replaced of all the things Elvis could and will do to you. All the ways he’s about to take care of you. 

[gregoftom]

Re: Greg knowing Tom is into him,,

What if he's a little bit more of a slimeball. What if at first Greg isn't interested in Tom in the same way. (The razzing annoys him and Tom is so volatile and confusing, and sure he's good looking enough but the whole situation is far too complicated for it to matter. Hell, maybe at this point Greg actually believes he's straight, at most slightly bi-curious.)

Greg is sly and watchful and smart and he sees how Tom's marriage is fracturing, he sees how much Tom likes him and how Tom's gaze lingers on him sometimes... and Greg decides, you know what, fuck it. If flirting with his boss a little bit will keep him in his good books, that's worthwhile enough. If tying Tom to him will make his place in the company more secure, sure he can tuck his hair behind his ear and smile coyly. If going on little dates with Tom and exchanging subtle looks and lingering touches gets the man to buy him expensive gifts, then Greg is happy to do all that.

And maybe seeing how sad Tom is and how much spending time with Greg means to him makes Greg feel guilty because it's just a big lie, but he doesn't know how to stop. They party together and scheme and hang out all the time, and gradually Tom starts introducing kisses to their routine, first only when they're blackout drunk, and then later even when they're just hanging out watching movies,, and it's slowly killing Greg. On one hand it feel so good, Tom is a good kisser and Greg loves being wanted and cherished - but he knows it's all built on a lie. Tom looks so happy and honestly astonished after every kiss, barely believing that Greg wants this too - and Greg has to wipe that look off his face with more kisses because if he has to look at all that love for a second longer he'll break

And then Tom becomes CEO and his divorce is finally finalized and he takes Greg out for a celebratory dinner. Holds his hand at the table and pays for his food like always, calls him "my Sporus" and breaks out in the most beautiul joyous grin when Greg squeezes his hand and calls him Nero

They go home tipsy and trading kisses, and for the first time they end up in the bedroom. Tom lays Greg out and strips him so gently and kisses his chest and stomach, lube and condoms ready, and he softly asks if Greg is sure -

And that's when it happens. Greg's vision goes blurry and then the tears stream down his cheeks and he can't, he can't - and Tom is instantly back up with him, cradling his cheeks and worriedly looking in his eyes

"Sweetheart, we don't have to tonight, or ever", Tom tries to reassure him, "Don't ever think you have to do something you don't want, honey I never want to hurt you"

And Greg just sobs harder, pulls Tom into a tight hug, wailing that he doesn't deserve Tom and that it's all wrong

Tom has no idea what's going on but he holds Greg through it, petting his back and kissing hi forehead until he calms down a little

"How can you think that?" Tom asks after a while, "how do you not deserve me? If anything it's the other way around, you idiot! I'm the grouchy old divorcee here!"

And Greg shakes his head

"Remember when we first met? When you asked me if I'd kiss you if you told me to?"

Tom cringes at himself a little but nods. "Why?"

"Because", Greg says in a broken voice, "you know what I thought? I thought... 'ohh, maybe that's an angle. Older guy, influential, clearly in the closet - I could use that."

It's at this point Tom lets go of him and backs away a little, something breaking in his eyes

Greg swallows hard and keeps going

"I'm a fucking snake, Tom, a parasite like everyone says - I never meant for it to go anywhere, I never meant for you to get hurt but. But."

"What are you saying? It's all been fake all this time? You've secretly, what, you've been laughing at me behind my back this whole time?" Greg could understand anger, screaming and throwing things, but Tom is frighteingly calm instead

He's calm and he's _wrong_ and Greg is fucking this up, and he has to try and explain -

"No, Tommy, I haven't been! It was fake at first, I liked you but I was also thinking about my position - but lately I just. I like it so much now, I don't know when it happened exactly but I. It's real for me too now, maybe I could've just kept pretending like this whole mess didn't exist but I couldn't let you think I'm good anymore, because I'm not."

Tom is sitting up now, head in his hands, shaking. "What the fuck, Greg, what am I supposed to do with this? I'm just like every other pathetic rich asshole who gets fooled by a pretty young thing huh? What am I supposed to-" he can't even finish the sentence because his voice breaks. "Here I thought you actually fucking liked me? That for once someone actually did?"

Greg's crying again but he determinedly pulls Tom up to meet his gaze.

"There's nothing pathetic about you, I swear, you're one of my favourite people in the whole world. I'm... I'm horrible for doing what I did but it was... me going after what I want, whatever it takes. Only along the way it changed, you're not some step anymore, you're the goal, you're the finish line so to speak? If you can... if there's a world in which you might be able to forgive me then I want to try. If there's any way that I can prove that I...."

He can't continue because they've never actually said it before, but Tom demands it. "Prove what, Greg? That you're a shameless fucking thigh climber? That there's nothing you won't do for a, a bigger paycheck? What the fuck is there left to prove?"

But he's not leaving, he's letting Greg take his hands - and maybe it's wishful thinking on Greg's part but maybe there's a hint of hope in his eyes?

"Yeah, I am all that and I can't deny any of it but - what I want to prove is that I love you."

Greg says it with conviction, trying to put everything into the words.

Tom draws in a sharp breath and his eyes go wide - it used to be that he'd initiate the kisses, the handholding - used to be he'd be the first one to escalate things - but now Greg's charging ahead. And despite everything that's happened the words still fill Tom with happiness

"Please let me show you", Greg begs softly. "It may have been fake at first but it isn't anymore. I've never felt like this about anyone before, that's why it took so long for me to realize I was actually falling in love with you. And I'm so sorry I was such a monster about this all -"

And despite everything, Tom laughs.

"Back up a little bit, Gregory, you fucking snake. You what?"

"I love you. I love you!"

"What?" Tom pretends he's not getting it, but there's a little grin showing through his tears.

"I love you, Tom Wambsgans, with every inch of my horrible liar being. I swear."

And Tom heaves a great exhausted sigh and pulls Greg into a hug. Greg sobs and clings to him like a koala.

"I won't say it back", Tom grumbles, and Greg laughs wetly.

"Fair enough. I don't deserve it, I don't think - but maybe I can work for it?"

Tom nods and buries his face in Greg's neck. "Never lie to me again.

"I won't", Greg promises. "Thank you", he whispers, and, "I love you. I'll say it everyday until you believe it's the truth."

"See that you do", Tom says, cunty, and Greg loves him so much. He says that out loud, and kisses Tom's cheeks and forehead, so many times, until he teases a little laugh out of Tom.

They go to sleep like that, holding each other tightly. Greg keeps his promise and tells Tom every day, and shows it too with kisses and gestures and gifts. Eventually they'll be okay again - and eventually Tom trusts him enough to say it back.

anyway sorry for this mile long ask i made myself emotional and now i'm crying at a cafe :')

UUUUUUUNNNHHHGGGH ANOOOON i die i fully die this is like. so muchhhh poor tommyyyy but oughhhhhn the dialogueee tom forgiving greg anyway in the end because He Would ojhhghjnnhf plssss do a full proper fic bc hhhhf. i Also cried ty for my life oof ouch ouch

[starry-blue-echoes]

okay so I went on a walk and my brain started rotating the Merstars AU SO hard so I'm just going to yeet a bunch of random bullet point thoughts that I came up with and see what comes out of it-

the "world" the AU takes place isn't really like "real" life and is instead a super huge archipelago with hundreds of thousands of islands of varying sizes and kinds

Mers and other various Sea Magics are pretty well known as A Thing That Exists. Is it accepted? Depends on the location and the people, and Mer Hunters are unfortunately a pretty common thing, but it's slowly started dying out. This is actually thanks to Speedwagon since after Jonathan's death he started trying to use his influence as a Very Important Wealthy Merchant to change public opinion, and it's actually been working

Jonathan was a pretty well loved and very social member of the mers. He wasn't their leader by any means, but almost every mer in the archipelago knew about him, and his murder pissed a LOT of people off. Luckily thanks to Speedwagon, since then relations have gone from "it's on fucking sight" to "don't approach me and I won't approach you"

Morioh is one of the more isolated islands and a bit of an exception to the above thing, being the most accepting island in the whole archipelago. Honestly, at this point like half the town has at least a little mer blood in them, but they are primarily human passing. There are a couple of full blooded or half blooded mers that hang around, but Josuke was one of the first ones born in the town in a long while

currently debating how exactly the Morioh Trio are gonna be, since I want them to be a "full blood, half blood, human" trio for the funnsies, but other than Josuke I don't know which should be which. My current thought process is 1) Okuyasu is the full blooded and when he was younger he had a run in with Hunters which is where his scars came from since his dad more or less just fucked off and left him at their mercy at which Keicho had to save him which led to the two of the moving to Morioh, Koichi is the human and is Their Little Guy, is super familiar with how to work around mers and climbs them like a god damn jungle gyms, or 2) Koichi is the full blood and a really small mer but still Big for humans, he's a cuttlefish, got separated from his family when he was little which led to him being adopted by the Human Hiroses and Okuyasu is human and the resident Normie Guy, he's recently moved to Morioh and is getting used to how Positive human mer relations are here

still trying to figure out how the Stand Arrows work, since Stands..... aren't really a thing now. Probably some kind of super powerful Sea Magic thing going on, maybe turn partial mers/humans into full blooded ones?

the "Italy" of this world is a collection of islands that are under Passione's control, aka a group of pirates that have a literal fleet. Diavolo and Doppio are brothers, with Diavolo being a half-mer (maybe lion fish? I'm still deciding tho) and Doppio being a full human. Doppio is the face of the operation, but his brother is always lurking in the depths below the ship and even makes a couple appearances as the True Boss in human form. Trish is by extension 1/4 mer and they want to kill her so the truth about Diavolo won't get out

Passione, despite all the shitty stuff they do, is actually a surprising area of Human Mer teamwork. There are a lot of hybrids and even full blooded mers to the point they're almost the majority. For the most part people don't care what you are as long as you get your job done, and honestly if what they did wasn't drug trade and trafficking, they'd be pretty cool

the Bucci Gang don't have a whole lot of mer blood, and any they do have is pretty distant to the point they're almost human save for a couple little features (they also don't get full transformations), with the exceptions being Trish and Giorno. Trish I've explained, but Giorno is...... Really Really Weird with what he is. His birth mom was a mer, but Dio had mostly been using her to try and lure other mers so by the time Giorno was actually born she was killed. Giorno was then taken in by the Shiobana's, which obviously sucked ass, but he was able to pass as a human for a shocking amount of time because Sea Vampire Genes fucked with his aging, so he also looks a lot smaller than he should be. He's also been forced to stay in his "human" form for much longer than is strictly healthy which ALSO fucked with his size and health

Giorno is gonna be a giant sea snake, because I think it'll be funny because That's The Traditional Sea MonsterTM. Maybe during the final fight with Diavolo he gets shot with the arrow and falls off the ship all dramatic and everyone thinks he died but SIKE he suddenly grows to full Absolutely Fucking ENORMOUS Size And Kicks Ass

Jolyne is a siphonophore, I don't make the rules, she's Really Fucking Long

[aliceinnaughtyland]

HURT - PART. 2

Pairing: Takatora x Reader

Warnings: Smut (obviously), unprotected sex (be smarter than that!), inexperienced!Last Boss, experienced!reader, slightly sub!Last Boss, slightly dom!reader, begging, slight orgasm control, a little of angst

Word count: 2.1 K

Summary: Last Boss overthinked something he heard, leading to a really happy ending.

Author’s note: Guess who’s back, back again! Thank you all for being so kind and patient! This is a really soft smut, nothing to crazy, but I think it’s cute. I love this story but to be honest, it’s been a while since I have written anything and as English is not my native language, I think the grammar is a little less correct than usual. Feel free to correct me if needed! Also Niragi smut coming soon!

Nota bene: We do NOT condone Takatora’s actions as we do NOT condone rape! We only love the Shuntarô Yanagi’s interpretation of Last Boss. This is fantasies only! You do NOT deserve this! If you are a victim of violence, please get help as soon as possible: You are not alone. Staf safe xx

Same place, different day. The sun was high in the sky, which could only mean one thing: let’s hang out at the pool!

You were wearing your best bikini, looking like a goddamn Goddess as usual, as a guy approached you. You never saw him before, but you didn’t think too much of it. The Beach was a big place.

After the usual–and boring- pickup lines, as you were trying to find a polite way to leave, you heard a voice resonated behind you.

“Well, well, well, trying to get lucky tonight?” Niragi asked, the poor guy, the usual level of arrogance in his voice.

You turned around to see the armed guy staring at him, a playful look in his eyes as scaring people off amused him, all the militants behind him. The guy didn’t answer, so Niragi continued. 

“Fuck off now, she’s Last Boss’ girl!”

The guy ran away before you could say anything, and now you were pissed. Obviously you weren’t interested in this guy, but who the fuck did Niragi think he was?

“Fuck off, Niragi! What the fuck? I’m no one’s girl, you hear me? Now get away from me!” you stormed off, letting Niragi confused.

As you left, you didn’t pay attention to Last Boss and didn’t see how his face contortioned with hurt. I mean, sure you two weren’t together, but you didn’t have to act so annoyed about people thinking it was the case.

Ok both of you never promised anything to each other. Fuck, you never even kiss! But you couldn’t convince him that there was absolutely nothing between you two.

You were always together!

He could recognize you just by the heat coming from your body. That’s how much you’ve been around each other recently.

He felt safe sleeping with you every night, even if that meant he had to share every aspect of his life and intimacy with you. That how comfortable he was around you.

So yeah, maybe you weren’t his girl, but fuck, you had to be something!

You getting so defensive over the fact that someone could have had thought that you were his-

His.

Fuck!

You had to be his!

This night was the first time in weeks he didn’t come to your room. No problem, you decided to go to his instead. You took all the things you needed for the night and headed through the corridor, ready to hang out. But arrived at his room, he was nowhere to be found.

You figured he just had some militant shit to do and just went back to your room, binge watching your last Netflix movie until you fell asleep.

Ok now that was clear. He was fucking ignoring you!

It has been days now, and that was fucking annoying. Hurtful even.

What the hell have you done for him to treat you like that suddenly?

You no longer saw him, and when you did catch him across the room, when you tried to reach out to him, he just raw away. Two fucking times.

Not only were you confused as fuck, because what the hell did you do to him for him to just erase you from his life, but this behaviour also hurt you. Even if it had only been three days, you were so used to his presence near you that this absence was remarkable. You were missing your friend.

Friends. That’s what you were right.! Right?

That’s normal for friends to hang out a lot. That’s what friends do.

Always searching for the other in a room? Friends.

Not accepting to let the other go to a game alone, even if that means risking your life? Very friendly way.

Sleeping together every night? Friends.

Cuddling after a nightmare? Obviously friends.

And wanting to hold his hand? Friends?

Imagining how soft his lips would be against yours? Okay-

Maybe the limits weren’t that clear to be honest.

But you never talked about it. Never even implied it. Never kissed.

Okay, since you’ve met him, no one else in the entire Beach ever caught your eyes.

Not that anyone dared to seduce you. Any times you entered a room, a dangerous killer was by your side.

Anyway, no matter what your situationship was, this little game of hide and seek needed to stop! You were determinate to confront him. And you needed this confrontation today!

You waited in the corner of the corridor, your eyes on his dorm, waiting for him. As he appeared, you followed him.

As you slammed the door behind you, Takatora quickly turned around, his katana soon pressing into your throat.

“Y/N what the actual fuck? I could have killed you”

 “Hello to you too Takatora”

 He didn’t answer you, the sound of his name on your tongue making his heart freeze a little.

 “Are you going to lower that thing of yours or are you debating on actually killing me?” you continued.

 The man sighed as he pushed his katana aside on the table beside you.

 “What are you doing here?”

“Why are you ignoring me?”

 He stayed silent so you continued.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, T?”

“What the fuck is wrong with me? Oh a lot of things are wrong with me Y/N! That’s why I’m trying to make sure you’re not seen with me! Wouldn’t want to embarrass you now, would we?”

He wasn’t screaming, but his tone was harsh and cold.

“What?” you asked in disbelief. Your eyebrows frowned. You didn’t even know how to react at this point.

“Oh cut the crap will you”

Cut the crap? Since when did Last Boss became so bitter. He was acting so out of character.

“You think I didn’t hear you the other day?” he continued “Making sure everyone knew we weren’t together”

“What?” you repeated

Your brain just ceased to function at this point, and all you did was try to comprehend the words that came out of his fucking mouth as he continued to ramble incoherently.

“Wait, wait! Just shut the fuck up, will you?” you interrupted him “You think I’m mad because Niragi said we were together?”

“Well-“

“I’m not mad at people thinking we’re together, Takatora. I’m mad because I want Niragi to respect me as a person and not as someone’s property. I want men to respect me because I said no, not because I’m a man’s wife. I want my no to be more important than another man's prize.”

“Oh”

“Yeah! Oh!” you imitated him.

Okay, now he was definitely ashamed. His eyes were scanning the ground as his life depended on it.

“I’m with you 24/7 T. Do you really think I give a fuck about what people think? Huh? And what would they think anyway?”

Your questions were meet with silence.

“What would they think, Takatora?” you repeated, much softer this time as you approached him.

Your hand found his cheek, pulling his face to finally look at you again.

“I don’t know” he whispered.

“I don’t know either”

Takatora was thinking. He needed to come with something. Quick. Something to change the subject. Fucking anything.

He tried his hardest, but his trail of thoughts was interrupted by someone getting too close to him. Not someone. You.

His eyes found yours and-

The kiss was sweet. Almost chaste. It was a kiss of pure love. At first.

Your arms soon found their way around his neck as he deepened the kiss. He caressed you, palms exploring the curves of your body.

His hands were trembling. Was it the nervousness about what was coming or the fear of losing you? He didn’t know himself.

His fingers became more urgent, slipping under your shirt to feel the warmth of your skin against his.

You raised your arms for him to take the hint and lift your shirt over your head, and he did, unable to resist. Meanwhile, one of your hand opened his hoodie while the other traced his newly uncovered chest.

“You’ll have to teach me” he panted against your lips.

 “You’ve never-“

 “No, I’ve never” he said as he kissed you again.

Soon enough, you were both on the bed, him laying down on his back, completely naked, you kneeling next to him, in nothing but your panties.

You were kissing his neck and he was already gone. Your body next to his, your warmth on his skin, your lips on his neck, your hand that was traveling south really fast and-

“Oh ! ” He panted as you grabbed him.

You lifted your eyebrows, silently asking him for permission and he nodded.

His strangle moans filled the room as you started sliding your hand up and down his cock. Who knew he was so noisy?

“You ignored me” you stated, your hand slowly moving around him.

“I’m sorry” he breathed.

“For three days”

“I’ll make anything for you to forgive me”

“Like what?”

“Any- Anything you want”

At this point, he couldn’t take it anymore. You were casually talking to him. While jerking him off. You were masturbating him so slowly, making sure it wasn’t enough for him to cum. But it was. And he was so close. He could almost feel it.

His hands were gripping the sheets beside him, not daring touching you. His eyes were elusive.

“Look at me”

“I can’t. You’re too perfect, I’m gonna cum” he panted, and you giggled.

“I’ll think about forgiving you then” you continued.

“Y/N” he whispered, gripping your wrist for you to stop your ministrations and sitting, making you sit with him, “I really am sorry”

This time, his eyes were on yours. It wasn’t about sex anymore. He really was searching for you. He wanted to be sure that you’ll forgive him.

You pushed him back, laying him down on the bed again.

You needed him now, but you still wanted to tease him. You wanted to be in control.

You stood beside the bed, taking off your panties and he audibly gasped, throwing his head back on the bed, though his eyes stayed on you the entire time.

You straddle his thighs, and he grunted, feeling your weight on him. You brushed his length with your knuckles and smirked at his reaction. But you wanted more. You wanted to make him go crazy. Crazy for you.

You leant toward him and kissed him deeply. And as you did, you readjusted yourself to sit on his dick.

You started to grin against him, rolling your hips on his length. Humping was always one of your favourites, but with Takatora beneath you, breathless and helpless, you knew you could become fucking addicted. Your clit rubbed against his navel at each of your motions, sending jolts of electricity to your core.

Takatora didn’t know what to do. This was the first time he ever had this kind of feeling, this kind of intimacy. And it was you. His brain couldn’t function anymore. But his body knew better. His hands gripped your hips, accompanying your movements without altering them. His eyes couldn’t leave you either. Your tummy, your breasts, your face. Everything about you was surreal. And the sounds. He could die a lucky man if the last sound he heard was your soft moans.

That was it. He was close.

“Ah fuck, I’m gonna- Fuck”

You stopped moving, and he groaned.

“Not yet T”

He wanted to ask you, to beg you. Anything that could encourage you to continue, to go faster. But he knew better than that. Oh well, fuck it-

“I want you to fuck me. Ride me. Use me to get off. Fuck. Give me anything. Please.”

These words only made your pussy throb against him. You knew he could feel it. There was something about having a dangerous man beneath you, helpless and begging for more.

The words were dirty, but the eyes, this was the look of love. He looked at you with so much adoration that you wished you could have for yourself half the love he had for you.

You didn’t want to lose any time anymore. You reached between you and grabbed his cock, asking him a last time if he was still ok with the experience. And after having the confirmation you needed, you sat on his cock. The strangled moan that came out of him at this exact moment was printed inside your brain. He fitted perfectly inside of you and you resumed your previous movements, this time feeling him inside of you.

“Fuck. Fuck. Y/N. Fuck”

Takatora knew he was coming sooner rather than later.

“What can I do?” he asked “Tell me what to do for you”

At that, you grabbed his hand and guided it to your core.

Takatora had no experience, and you knew it. So you just moved his fingers against your clit. He took over quickly, and you sped up one last time before your orgasm milked his.

You laid on him, your face on his neck, trying to regain a normal breathing pattern.

“I should ignore you more often”

"Don't you dare!"