#and she promptly sells him out.

[gayemeralds]

pondering a titans rewrite. anyway i like the idea that jason shows up in the first season (which is dick-centered/Gotham&bludhaven-centered) like three times. first to establish dick’s strained connections and jealously over his robin mantle being taken from him, and bruce replacing him so easily after firing him. secondly for jason and dick to begin to connect as well as jason and gar to become friends since the original titans show seemed to want to imply that but then did nothing with it. and then the last time jason appears it’s because he ran away from Bruce and is looking to find his mother, sheila, but probably gets distracted in helping the titans. and then jason leaves to go find sheila and, well. i think we know what happens next

[meowzfordayz]

when you’re laughing nonstop

Author’s Note: humor isn’t exactly my selling point, so pls and ty enjoy my attempt(s) @ #funny. 🙃

when you’re laughing nonstop

Hashira x Reader, Kamaboko x Reader

Word Count: ~800

CW: explicit language

Emergency Request Fulfilled: If by any chance could you do the Hashira or the the kamboko squad, without trying to, makes the reader laugh like so hard they're crying, and any time they talk the reader just laughs more? (Idk if youve ever had those moments but those are the best laughs lol) How would they react?

~faqs~

When you’re laughing nonstop…

… Zenitsu panics, because he thinks you’re laughing at him?! It doesn’t help that after literally anything he says or does, you burst into giggles… and your inability to explain that you’re laughing with him rather than at him (albeit, he isn’t exactly laughing — more so pouting) due to the constant onslaught of giggles only exacerbates his panic and confusion.

… Inosuke thinks it’s a competition. “DID YOU REALLY BELIEVE YOU COULD OUT LAUGH ME?!” *cue maniacal laughing fit*  Meanwhile, you’re clutching your stomach, gasping for air, and entirely unable to inform him that: It isn’t a competition, idiot!

… Gyomei, the poor man, is just trying to meditate, but it’s hard for him to focus when you’re snorting every other second, your efforts to conceal your laughter less than successful. He doesn’t have the heart to ask you to leave, but he does gently (and sternly) cradle your head to his chest (he’s hoping his pulse’ll calm you), exasperated smile tugging at the corner of his mouth when you instead dampen his happi with your tears (from laughing so hard).

… Obanai tries to act irritated, but the twinkle in your eyes as you cling hopelessly to his haori’s sleeve, body shaking with laughter, is too endearing for him to maintain his facade. “Are you done?” he asks, indifference nearly giving way to a fond smile. “N-no!” you manage to gasp, promptly dissolving into another round of laughter, “Not even c-close!”

… Tanjirou waits for you to get it out of your system, smiling brightly the entire time. He doesn’t quite understand what’s so funny—all of his attempts to ask you result in half finished sentences interrupted by more laughter—but he does know you’re happy, and if you’re happy, then he’s happy! 

… your tears initially worry Mitsuri, but once she’s confident that they’re happy tears, and after observing that she seems to be the reason behind them, she brings you a handkerchief and does her best to prolong your laughter (facepalm worthy puns are her specialty).

… Shinobu clucks her tongue, already knowing you’re eventually going to end up with the hiccups. “W-where are you *hiccup* g-oing?” you whine, eyes narrow with suspicion, “Don’t leave meee!” Rolling her eyes, she lightly flicks your forehead, voice wry with amusement, “I’m getting you a glass of water,” raising an eyebrow as you hiccup again, “You’re clearly going to need it,” pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder, “I’m not leaving you.”

… Kyojuro watches you with great interest, and mild concern. It only happened once, but once was enough. (it being you choking on your own spit from laughing too hard, and almost passing out because he didn’t realize you were actually choking versus laughing)

… Sanemi swears you’ve been possessed by the devil. “Nothing in this world is that funny,” he grumbles, swatting away your fingers as you attempt to pinch his cheeks, “Stop it.” Of course, his petulant grimace only makes you giggle harder, and you know he isn’t really mad when he finally acquiesces and allows you to wield his hand: “Why are you hitting yourself? Why are you hitting yourself?” as you playfully smack his face with his palm, your delighted, triumphant grin soothing the glower in his stare. #the man is whipped #the man is in love

… Muichiro smiles ruefully, toe throbbing as you laugh and point at his misfortune. “A-are you o-okay?” you gasp between chuckles, “That chair really did a number on you!” What’s important to him is knowing that, were it a serious injury, you’d help first, laugh later… right?

… Giyuu prays it’ll end soon. Don’t get him wrong! He adores your smile, wishes he could bottle up your laughter for a rainy day, and overall cherishes your happiness… but he simply doesn’t know what to do when the giggles strike. Should I stand here and wait? Would now be an inappropriate time to go do laundry? Uh oh… they’re getting closer… if they get ahold of you, then you’ll have to stand here and wait… shit! *insert Giyuu awkwardly patting your head as you sob-laugh-sniffle into his chest*

… Tengen swells with pride, muscles subconsciously flexing, hair subtly shining, eyes glimmering. Who cares if you’re laughing at him? Either way, he’s the reason you’re laughing so hard, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t get the credit for making you so happy. That being said, if the laughter shows signs of spreading to Hina… to Makio… to Suma… #Uzui Tengen is now running away #legend says he’s still running to this day (“What do you mean I’m running? Pfft! I can handle four hysterical spouses! Absolutely! 100%!”)

[gay-dorito-dust]

Another, another Drabble that might be longer than I originally planned…the ending was dogshit🦦

‘It’s cute.’ Sylvia Newbon of the Aphrodite cabin cooed as Luke flashed you a charming smile.

‘Then you can have him then,’ you began, plucking loose threads from your jeans, ‘he’s been nothing but an annoying pain in my ass as of late.’

Sylvia merely chucked as she playfully nudged you in the side. ‘I don’t think that’s possible at this pount, Luke seems dead set on you, and I honestly think you’re being dramatic about all this. You’ve got someone pinning after you and your response to that is to be rid of it?’ She said aghast. You shrugged, not really understanding what Luke saw in you, a child of Hades, a forbidden child other than that; a forbidden child whose existence shouldn’t have come to pass.

‘He’ll get bored of me once he realises I’m not who he thinks I am.’ You defended, now watching Luke as he took a small break from training, face still bearing that smile that only seemed to grow to the point his dimples and pearly whites were on full display. You didn’t want to be the one responsible in taking take away that shine. Ever. For it seemed that ever since your first arrival to camp, Luke had been the only one to stand by you without an ounce of trepidation for who your godly father was; He had been there during the sleepless nights despite the fact he didn’t need to, during your time at the Hermes cabin he would be beside you in the dinning pavilion or even save you a seat.

He did everything in his power to help you and be of aid, all without expecting a simple thank you in return…You genuinely hated how you felt towards him. You originally put it down to the fact that Luke Castellan was conventionally attractive, only to soon learn that it was much deeper than that, which had scared you to the point of becoming recluse.

‘Don’t say that.’ Sylvia said sternly. ‘Don’t do that to yourself, don’t sell yourself short. I hate it when you do that because that means missing out on something pure, something beautiful, something real.’ She then grasps onto your hands, holding them with a strength that was reflective of her passion. ‘I don’t want fear of rejection, for fear itself to control you any longer because if there’s anyone in camp who deserves to be happy, it’s you. You’re the child of hades for fuck sake, fear is beneath you and you know it but you still willingly give it power over you. Why? Why deny yourself true happiness when it’s served up to you on a silver platter-‘

‘Because I’m afraid!’ You exclaimed, cutting Sylvia off but find it difficult to stop. ‘I’m afraid that I won’t be enough for him, that I’ll take away his smile that shows off his perfect teeth and cute dimples! I’m afraid that he’ll never be satisfied being with me because even in a camp full of people like me, much like Nico, I still feel the outcast and I don’t want to burden Luke with that.’ You finished, slightly out of breath. ‘So it’d be better for the both of us if I just kept my distance.’ Neither of you spoke, you just stared at each other, letting nothing but the silence to take hold, but then you saw the sudden shift in Sylvia’s eyes as they looked to something just behind you.

You didn’t need to know who it was behind you, not when you could clearly see from where you sat that Luke was missing from his little group of friends that were heading off elsewhere; which was probably why you didn’t express surprise upon hearing his voice from behind saying. ‘I know I probably fucked up my chances by eavesdropping but I completely disagree with everything you said just now.’ You didn’t even react when Luke sat himself down, nor make any attempts to move away when he then shuffled closer to you as humanly possible. Sylvia -obviously knowing what was going to happen- smiled softly as she stood up and promptly left you and Luke to your much needed conversation.

‘And why’s that?’ You rhetorically asked, looking at him as though you weren’t having an internal breakdown as to what might come out of his mouth next. ‘Would me saying I like you be substantial enough evidence?’ He asks.

‘We’re not in a romcom movie Luke, a simple I like you is never going to be enough, especially for people like me who have never been given much of a reason for staying, never mind a good one at that.’ You replied and Luke hummed in acknowledgment before grabbing you hand in a similar fashion as Sylvia did prior; with a strength reflective of his passion. ‘Then let me try again by saying that the day you came to camp was probably the most important day of my life.’ Luke began. ‘From the moment Chiron brought you to the Hermes cabin I knew right then and there that I was a goner. I must’ve been obvious as even some of camp began to notice how I acted towards you and would come up and tell me to tell you and get it over with…but I didn’t because I’d thought I would have enough time to tell you eventually.’ He chuckles, squeezing your hand while you listened intently.

‘I was wrong on that front because it wouldn’t be long until you were claimed by Hades and soon after you had already packed your stuff to move into your new cabin. It wasn’t until then did I realise that I took our friendship for granted, I knew that sooner or later you’d be claimed but at least not for a while, I often asked myself why did I cling onto you so desperately and now I know why.’ Luke finished, looking at you deeply.

‘Why?’ You asked, already knowing the answer.

‘It’s because I didn’t want you to move on and forget about me when I was very much liked the thought of you being close to me, closer than a friend should. So while your cabin was being built I took that as a final attempt in getting closer to you before being forced to wake up in a cabin void entirely of your presence for good.’ Luke replied.

You licked your lips, suddenly overtly away of how dry they were. ‘and here I thought you were just being the friendly head of the Hermes cabin.’ You admitted humourlessly, resting your head against his shoulder without a care. ‘How oblivious was I?’

‘How oblivious we both were you mean.’ Luke corrected as he rested his head atop of yours, briefly closing his eyes. ‘I just hope that I’ve given you enough reason to stay at camp.’ At those words you squeezed his hand in reassurance and uttered softly for him to hear. ‘you gave me that and so much more.’

Luke pressed a kiss to your head. ‘Good because I would’ve followed you into Tartarus and back if I hadn’t.’

[myfictionaldreams]

Hear me out! How about Mafia Steve rogers having hate sex with reader because they were having an argument and reader had attitude. He fucks her like i need to dicipline you, you little brat and she is calling him daddy.

I'm Bored! // Mafia!Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

A/N: Thank you for the request! ♥ I hope you like this!

Side Note: This isn't a part of the mafia!stucky universe, just wanted to clarify that lol

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, dom/sub, rough sex, spanking, ripping clothes, degradation, praise kink, size kink (!), desk sex, creampie, edging, overstimulation, daddy kink, pretty behaviour, slight misogyny/stereotypes, hairpulling, fingering, exhibitionism, slight subspace

Words: 2.6k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

“I know what you’re doing”. Steve slammed his phone onto the desk as his nostrils flared, eyes glaring with an intensity that any sane person would have backed away with their head lowered in submission.

It seemed you had a death wish today as you smirked and continued to piss him off, wanting the exact reaction you were receiving from your Mafia boyfriend. Stomping your foot and clenching your fists, you continued in a shrill, high-pitched tone for an added effect that you knew would drive him into the depths of mental hell. ”I’m not doing anything! I just feel so trapped in this stupid box of an office!”

As you so politely described, this stupid box of an office was an executive suite in one of the skyscrapers that towered over Brooklyn that he could view from the ceiling-to-floor windows. The office had to be the biggest in the building, with enough space for his desk, sitting area, kitchen and a vastly sized table to fit at least 15 people for meetings specified for the mafia boss.

And yet, here you were, moaning about the size, knowing that there was nothing more extravagant or luxurious than his office. In your defence, it had been a long day of being out of the office, as Steve had to travel for hours across his city to check the quality of stolen goods and meet with many influential people with the hopes of selling said stolen items. It hadn’t been a particularly trying day for the most part, but you quickly became bored, especially as you had to remain quiet during these meetings.

From an outsider's perspective, you were meant to be the pretty timid girlfriend of the mafia boss. His eye candy. There to hang on his arm and warm his lap and nothing more. In reality, he had wanted you there so that you could be more involved in the gang, understand how the meetings work, and contribute to decisions once back to the office if you deemed the people trustworthy enough to work with.

The staying quiet aspect of your role was also just for your safety. If you talked, that was an open invitation for the powerful individuals to talk back, and you weren’t ready to be involved in those sorts of conversations just yet. Therefore, you were more than happy to remain Steve's silent, pretty girlfriend.

Today, however, you were feeling antsy from the lack of talking, stiff from sitting for so long and needy for something a little more exciting than hand-holding or sitting on his lap. Especially now you were in the comfort of the office and could really rile Steve up. Maybe you were being a brat, but you were so bored and frustrated you wanted to get your heart pounding and some sort of relief, so pissing Steve off was the best option for this.

“Stop trying to take your clothes off-! Fucks sake. Everyone out!” Steve ordered the guards stationed by the door, and they promptly followed his directions as they left with a slam of the door.

You pause, with one of the straps of your dress halfway down your arm, turning to face him directly with a wicked smile on your face. Oh, he was pissed, verging on genuinely being angry with the way the vein on his neck was bulging and throbbing.

“I hate when you get like this. We were having a nice fucking day, too”, he demands whilst beginning to remove his tie and jacket. You knew he didn’t mean it; he always loved being able to dominate you just as much as you loved being an irritating brat and getting on his last nerve.

Your cunt pulses in desire watching him closely, eyes blazing with excitement as you bite your lower lip to try and hide the unmistakable grin. “Was it a nice day for me or for you, Steve? Because it’s been a boring day for me. All I’ve been doing for hours is standing there and looking pretty. Do you know how boring that is? I want to live a little! My clothes feel too tight, too claustrophobic. I want to be free!”

Steve doesn’t say anything, but he does glare as he begins to undo the cuffs of his white shirt, rolling up the sleeves to reveal the muscular forearms beneath. It was only as he rounded his desk that you began to back up, taking a quick step backwards, but they were no match to the giant strides of his long legs as he was in front of you in a matter of seconds. His chest bumped into yours, forcing you to continue backwards until your back was flush against the cool glass windows.

Steve towered above you, even with your black heels adding a few inches to your height; he always seemed to be a gargantuan man, adding warmth to your core. Looking up at his glaring face through your lashes and biting your lip, trying to look as innocent as possible.

“Think you’re being cute by acting like this? Like a brat with all that attitude?” he snaps, reaching up to wrap his massive hand around your throat, not squeezing as such but just so that you stayed still and he could feel the thump of your racing heartbeat beneath his fingertips.

“I think I’ve got the response that I wanted, so yes, I think I am being cute”, you say confidently whilst reaching for the bulge in his slacks to show just how turned on he was, squeezing it tightly and making it throb.

Steve’s eyes drop to your hand as he subtly thrusts into your palm, but as he looks back towards your face, you know he has something planned as it is his turn to smirk. “You said your clothes felt tight. Well, let’s change that Princess”.

The hand around your neck lowers to your hip, turning you around so your front is pressed against the window, forced to look out over the city of Brooklyn. Before you could even look over your shoulder to see what was next, your body was shaken as Steve gripped the left and right side of your dress and pulled, effortlessly ripping the red dress down the zip so it fell from your body. You were left in only your thong and heels, wholly exposed to the city below.

Steve’s hand is then suddenly in your hair, pulling your head back against his shoulder and forcing your chest to push up, your nipples perking from being pressed against the startingly cold glass.

“Does this make you feel any more free? You know I love it when people watch me touch you. Well, now we’ve got the whole city watching Princess”, Steve whispers as he runs his nose down your neck.

You shiver as he nudges the sensitive spot just below your ear, “Yes, Steve-”.

The hand in your hair tightens, “Excuse me?”

“Daddy”, you correct yourself quickly, “Yes, Daddy, thank you for making me feel more free and showing me off to everyone”.

He hums to himself, “I think it’s about time I should how to be more grateful and show a little less of this attitude you seem to have”.

“Yes, Daddy”, you say submissively, mind reeling with the anticipation and thrill of what's to come.

“Count for me and safe words to be used if needed”, he mentioned before continuing.

With one hair remaining in your hair, he presses your face against the window, not hard enough for it to hurt but also to make sure that you keep it in place. His other hand pulled back on your hips, perking your arse out for him. You were only vaguely aware of his plan as you heard the swatting of his hand through the air before the stinging impact as he spanked your arse cheek.

You jumped at the contact, but he always started light, not wishing to actually cause you harm and so that you could make it through the usual ten counts before checking in.

“One, thank you, Daddy”, you say sweetly, watching the glass in front of you fog up at your heated breath. With each spank, you made sure to count and thank him. Even though you’d been a brat, when he finally did snap like he was now, you were always on your best behaviour, taking whatever punishment he deemed necessary.

His palm connected with both of your cheeks, ensuring they both had equal attention and that the areas were hot to the touch and somewhat sore but not enough to bruise. You enjoyed the rough treatment so much that you were rolling your hips into his palm, feeling the wetness coating your thong and spreading over your labia.

“Ten, thank you, Daddy”, you softly say, your eyes closed and feeling the world becoming fuzzy around the edges as the mixture of pleasure and pain caused the hormones in your head to feel like you were experiencing your own personal high.

This was the reason why you always enjoyed pissing him off with a little bit of attitude and bratty behaviour; being drawn into a subspace mentally from the punishments was like a drug to you, one that Steve was more than happy to pull you into.

Overwhelming pleasure suddenly burst through your burning core as Steve pulled your thong string to the side and shoved two thick digits into your pussy, stretching you thoroughly.

“You’re so wet, such a desperate little slut aren’t you” he taunts whilst rocking his fingers in and out, stretching them every so often to prepare you for what you really want.

You stick out your bottom lip in a pout whilst rolling your hips in time with his fingers as you whine, “Only your slut though, Daddy”.

Steve kisses your naked shoulder, showing some sort of soft intimacy, “That’s right, you’re just my little slut. Now how about you show me just how good you are for me and go and bend over my desk and spread your legs”.

The hand in your hair loosens enough that you can wiggle free and stumble over to the desk, kicking off the heels as if they were not helping the wobbly sensations in your legs. Steve was one step behind and reached around you to shove the papers cluttering his desk off and onto the floor. With the extra space, you could happily bend forward, resting your chest on the desk and widening your stance as Steve begins to unbuckle his belt.

Watching over your shoulder, you admired the lustful gaze of his bright ocean-blue eyes, the drag of his tongue along his bottom lip as he looked as if he wanted to eat you right then and there.

“Do you like what you see?” you asked whilst wiggling your hips invitingly to him.

Steve tries and fails to hide the smirk on his face. Reaching forward, he rubs with each of your arse cheeks, squeezing the sore areas until your mewling and begging for something more. As he stepped closer and continued to hold the string of your thong to the side, he looked you directly in the eyes as he spoke lowly, “I just want you to remember that you wanted me to get this riled up with that smart mouth of yours. Acting bratty has its consequences”.

Opening your mouth to try and sass him another way, all that came out was an exaggeratedly obscene moan, your eyes rolling back as Steve’s cock thrust deep within your cunt in one mighty thrust. The movement caused you to rock onto your tiptoes, having to push further onto the desk as the tip of his cock pressed against your cervix, filling you completely. The warm, wet walls of your pussy fluttered and squeezed around the penetration, trying to milk him already, clinging to him within an inch of your life.

Your fingers wrap around the edge of the desk above your head, holding on to it as Steve withdraws. Half of the length inside of you retreated, only to slam back into you, causing your hips to bump into the table with the strength put behind the movement.

“Faster”, you demand as your forehead rests on the rest, eyes closing to focus on the overwhelming pressure in your core.

However, the sassy tone you used was not appreciated by the man nearly splitting you in half with his cock as his hand once again delved into your hair to pull your head back, causing a startled scream to replace the moans.

“You don’t get to decide how fast I fuck you, Princess”.

With your head pulled back in this position, you were now having to stare at the wall behind his desk, which had a narcissistic painting of him, given to him as a joke by one of his employees. Now, however, to your delight, you were able to stare up at his handsome face as he fucked you with deep, tauntingly slow thrusts.

With this pace, you could feel every single inch dragging along your sensitive walls, causing them to spasm and tighten on instincts rather than just taking a quick hard fuck that left you forgetting to breathe and seeing stares. The way Steve currently had you was more overstimulating and had your breaths coming out in short huffs.

Steve, it seemed, knew every little moan and hitch of breath that your body took, understood at which degree of tightness your cunt squeezed him in with just how close you were to orgasm. His hips stopped thrusting as you could have sobbed as that beautiful sensation faded into a light buzz rather than an overwhelming euphoria.

“Please- Please Daddy, I…I… I’m sorry for my attitude, Daddy” You managed to find the right words, internally praising yourself for coherently saying what Steve wanted to say as currently, the only words running through your mind were, ‘fuck me harder, Daddy’.

“That’s all I wanted you to say, Princess”, he praises lightly as one hand remains holding onto your hair and the other slips between the desk and your mound so that two of his fingers can massage your clit.

The burst of fire that pulsed through you was powerful, knees wobbling and whines turning into incoherent begs of the word ‘yes!” as Steve finally began to fuck you at the fast pace you’d been hoping for.

You came so quickly that the breath rushed from your body, and you became light-headed from the overstimulation. He doesn’t stop, though; he just continues to hold you in place, fucking you and playing with your clit until you came a second time.

Thankfully, Steve did too, grunting desperately as his hips snapped up one more time, and wetness came flooding out of your cunt as his seed seeped out and down your thighs. Carefully, he removed his fingers from your sensitive bundle of nerves and gently rested your face on the desk whilst massaging your scalp and kissing along the back of your shoulder blade.

As he moved up towards your neck, you sighed in contentment, turning your face to the side so that he could gently kiss your cheek and you could reach around to run your fingers through his short, blond hair.

“Get your frustrations out?” he asks quietly and softly into your ear.

Nodding your head, you blink tiredly back at him, “Yes, thank you. But now, I have no clothes, and I can’t walk”.

Steve chuckles against your skin, a beautiful sound that has your toes curling again, “Well, I did warn you”.

[rollinouttahere-writes]

Wrote something short for the Little Lucky AU, the Ace interaction prompt really got me itching to write

What'cha Got There?

Yandere Straw Hats + Ace x Child Reader

1.3k words

“Does he think we’re stupid?”

Sanji’s lighter flickered to life and lit his cigarette. He took a long drag and exhaled it with a huff, sparing a glance towards Nami before zeroing back in on the sight in front of them. “It certainly seems like he does,” he ground out.

The ‘he’ in question being Luffy’s brother, Ace. 

No one thought much of it upon seeing how well he got along with Lucky. You’re a sweet kid, and he seems like a fun and level-headed adult, so there’s no harm in letting you play together. There was, admittedly, a twinge of jealousy when he managed to get her to call him ‘uncle Ace’ within like 24 hours of meeting, but they were all trying to let it go.

Now though, when he’s walking around with a suspiciously child-shaped lump under his clothes while trying to leave, Sanji and Nami are feeling much less generous about it. They were currently standing between him and where his boat was tied to the side of the Going Merry, arms crossed and expressions unamused. 

Ace cringed at the sight, shifting and adjusting the lump that just giggled from being jostled, “Hey! I’m gonna be leaving now, thanks for letting me tag along with you guys for so long. It was really generous of you.”

“Why are you wearing your cloak again?” Nami asked accusingly. Ace was wearing the same cloak he’d had on while they were hiking through the desert, a strange sight to see with how minimal he tended to be in regards to clothing.

“Oh, this? I uh… I got cold?” He offered, not looking like he was even buying what he was selling.

Nami scowled, wanting to reach out and slap the back of his head for telling her the dumbest and most obvious lie she’s ever heard. An impressive feat given what she hears from Usopp on a daily basis. “You, a man with a fire based logia devil fruit, are cold?” She hissed, putting a heavy emphasis on the last word.

Ace looked back and forth, his expression resembling that of a dog being asked why the couch was chewed up, “Yes?”

Sanji pushed off from the railing he was leaning against and began circling around Ace, “I know that you ate a lot at the last meal, but you sure have packed on a shocking amount of weight since then.” Sanji leaned over and poked the lump, watching as it flinched and snickered from the prodding.

He raised an eyebrow at this, “Seems like you’ve got quite the case of indigestion going on there, Ace. Maybe you should rest here another day until it passes?” His foot was tapping very aggressively, and if it weren’t for the fact that you’re currently on Ace’s person, he would have kicked him by now.

“That’s alright!” Ace interjected, hoisting up the wiggling child under his clothes and whispering for you to hush, “Don’t worry about it, I’ll work this off in no time flat!” He tried to step around Sanji, only to promptly bump into Nami.

Nami had had enough of this charade by now and ripped the cloak open, and what do you know, there you are! You froze briefly, eyes wide and mouth opened in surprise, only to then dissolve into laughter from being caught.

“See! I told you it wouldn’t work!”

“Well maybe it would have if you weren’t in there giggling and squirming the whole time!” Ace attempted to defend himself, poking at your cheeks with each word.

“Nuh-uh! You’re silly!” You grabbed onto his one hand with both of yours and tried to push it away, not that it really worked.

“Don’t ‘nuh-uh’ me!” He switched tactics and started tickling your sides, making you wrench away from him and shriek with laughter.

Despite their previous annoyance towards the attempted kidnapping, Nami and Sanji felt the urge to smile upon seeing you so happy. Nami shook her head. No! She needs to get you back before he tries making a break for it.

She stormed forward and snatched you right out of his arms. Instead of being grateful for the rescue, you were protesting and holding your arms out to Ace again. “Namiiii! We were playing!” You whined.

“No, Lucky, he needs to leave. He’s got important things to do, right?” Her eyes were narrowed and boring into him, daring him to contradict her.

Ace sighed and scratched the back of his head, shoulders slumped because Nami was correct, “Yeah, yeah, you’re right.” He shrugged the cloak off his shoulders and stuffed it into his backpack unceremoniously. 

As he approached you and Nami, noting how Nami clutched you tighter when he was in arm's reach, he bent down to your level and offered you a smile as warm as he was, “I’ve got to get going now, Lucky.”

“But you said we were gonna go see your other brothers,” you pouted, crestfallen over not being able to go on a trip with him. “You promised!”

He winced, feeling bad about not being able to keep to his word at this moment, “And we will! Later. I’ve got some business I need to take care of, but as soon as I’m done we’ll go. Promise!”

You eyed him with a high degree of uncertainty, “Hmm… pinky promise?”

Ace stared at your extended pinky for a second before chuckling. He held out his own, completely dwarfing yours and making the super serious pact, “Yeah, pinky promise.”

“When were you going to tell us about this promise?” Sanji seethed. “You can’t just run off with her whenever you want!”

“What? She can’t go and spend time with her favorite uncle once in a while?” Ace smirked, knowing full well how jealous they were. “I just thought maybe you guys would want a break or something.”

“Well we don’t,” Nami deadpanned.

Boisterous laughter cut through the air, and Luffy bounded over to leap onto his brother’s back, “Oh relax, Nami! Ace is just joking around!”

He absolutely wasn’t, and they knew it. And he knew that they knew it, but instead he just smiled innocently at Luffy and agreed. Liar. 

Lucky’s brows furrowed and she looked back and forth between everyone, appearing confused and hurt, “You were? But we pinky promised!” You didn’t know what was the truth anymore.

Ace visibly panicked, “No, no! I meant it about you visiting them, I just,” he fell silent, trying his damnedest to find an answer that would please everyone. “I was joking about it just being the two of us, all of you can come meet them later!”

Luffy accepted this answer at face value, but Nami and Sanji just rolled their eyes, not believing that for a second. Ace would absolutely run off with you the first chance he got, but at least that first chance wouldn’t be today.

You were still pouting, not loving the answer because you were excited to make some new friends, “Fiiiiine.”

Ace laughed and ruffled your hair, “Aww, don’t be like that! It’ll happen soon enough!” He opted to push his luck one last time before he leaves and take you back into his arms for one more hug. Nami was glowering at him, but chose to let it slide since Luffy was still actively clinging onto him. She knows he won’t let you leave.

Visibly torn, Ace forced himself to hand you over to Luffy so he could actually leave now. He leapt onto the wooden railing, looking over his shoulder at the crew members on deck, “I guess it’s time for me to go, see you later everyone.” He made eye contact with you, specifically, “Bye, Lucky!”

“Bye-bye uncle Ace!” You cheerfully chirped back, waving at him enthusiastically.

Ace dropped onto his boat and made quick work of getting it ready for the latest voyage, smiling to himself despite knowing how perilous it was going to be. At least he had something to look forward to after it was all over.

[cookinguptales]

my family is watching antiques roadshow again, and we were talking about the wwdits vampires trying to sell their old belongings at one of these things... which quickly devolved into how much we want to see them doing appraisals on the show.

laszlo is presented with an authentic norman rockwell painting and he's like "not enough tits, not enough bush" and he just like. throws it. finds some vintage victorian pornography and is like THIS IS MORE LIKE IT.

nadja is just wandering around judging jewelry by how haunted it is, giving insultingly lowball estimates, and stealing the pieces she likes best as soon as the cameras are off her. she mostly just hypnotizes a bunch of old ladies, but yes, there is a body count.

nandor is thrilled by how much antique weaponry there always is at these shows, but he is mostly enamored of All The Horsies. because for some reason, there is always so much horse art on this show. every horse painting is worth one million dollars.

colin is giving actual legit appraisals, his are the only ones that are at all accurate, but his appraisals are so long-winded (he draws them out just to keep folks anxious) that people usually pass out before they find out what their treasures are actually worth. he does not bother mugging them. (nadja often does, though.)

guillermo is like GUYS, WE REALLY SHOULDN'T BE ON TV... until the exact moment that he finds out how much a lot of their old shit is actually worth. once he loosens up, he finds that he actually really enjoys wandering around and looking at all of the antiques, even if they do kind of uncomfortably remind him of a very unpleasant ex.

nadja will, before this is over, shove a bunch of stolen jewelry at guillermo and tell him to hide it in his pockets. he will bitch while doing exactly that. colin will help the two of them resell their illicit gains on ebay the next day.

(meanwhile, laszlo has managed to pull both keno brothers.)

bonus for my fellow nandermo fans:

despite coming out of the whole endeavor much richer, guillermo is feeling unsettled because his ex-boyfriend always used to ramble at him about antiquities and he realizes that he was never once asked what he thought about any of them. it feels odd to realize how much he does actually enjoy the subject in the absence of a much larger personality that always made him feel smaller.

(story of his life, huh?)

after all this is done, he goes back out to some local shows and auctions, much smaller ones, and nandor accompanies him. they gossip at each other the whole time about which pieces they like, which they think are ugly, and which are drastically overpriced.

guillermo uses his new misbegotten wealth to buy nandor a statue of a horse, which he promptly names john.

[darkbluekies]

ooohoooh do a oneshot jerry x sensitive male reader, plot depends on you

Uncanny connection

Mafia!female!yandere x male!reader

Summary: going out for ice cream with Jerry ends in one of the most grotesque scenes you've been in

Warnings: gore, torture, knocking someone unconscious

Word count: 3k

A/N: I don't know how "sensitive" the reader got because i think he got pretty tough, but I hope it's enjoyable anyway♡

"Do you know what I'm craving?" Jerry asks.

"What?" you answer.

"Ice cream."

You look up from your book. Jerry lies on the other side of the couch, bored out of her mind. Her boss is in the room next to you, pressing an enemy on information — an enemy which Jerry brought to him. It's revolting. 

"How can you even think about food now?" you mutter, face leaning in your hand.

"Because I'm hungry?" Jerry replies snarkily and throws the tv remote at your head. 

You grimace, but realize that you'll get out of the house if you decide to listen to her upset stomach.

"Should we get some ice cream then?"

Jerry shines up. "Yes!"

She stands up and grabs your arm, pulling you up from the couch. You wince. You're taller than her, but there's no debate on who's stronger. Jerry takes you out to the garage.

"Choose", she says and points, "car or motorcycle? Pick the motorcycle."

"Okay? The motorcycle."

Jerry smirks and hands you a black helmet. "Do you know why I want you to pick the motorcycle? Because then you'll have to hug me all the way to the ice cream place. Unless you want to die, of course."

"Childish", you mumble teasingly.

Jerry hits your stomach with the back of her hand. You huff and stumble backwards. 

"Careful, buddy", she says coldly, giving you a glare. "Wouldn't want you to get hurt. Put on the helmet now so we can leave."

Although Jerry scares you, there's something about her black motorcycle armor that makes you drool. You place the helmet over your head and sit down behind her. Jerry grabs your arms and wraps them around her slim waist. If she wasn't wearing her armor, you'd feel her sixpack through her shirt. 

You reach the ice cream shop in less than twenty minutes. Jerry takes care of your helmet while promptly warning (threatening) you not to wander off.

You walk inside with her while she orders the two of you ice cream. You stand behind her with your hands in your pockets, looking around.

"Hey, stare-eye, do you want sprinkles?" Jerry asks over her shoulder.

"Yes, please", you answer.

You're soon given an ice cream, surprisingly in your favorite flavor. You didn't think Jerry paid attention to such things. You walk out to her motorcycle and sit down on the asphalt in the empty parking lot. Not a lot of people seem to go for ice cream at nine at night.

"This hits the spot", Jerry smiles.

You nod.

"Did you see the girl behind the counter, though?" Jerry asks and scoffs. "She was staring at you."

"I didn't notice", you reply.

"Of course you didn't. If I didn't know better, I'd think you had smoked something with the way you were looking around. Speaking of that, do you want to smoke? The boss has a cupboard full of-"

"No, I don't think that's for me."

"Oh, come on. How are you going to know if you haven't tried?"

"I don't want that. Alcohol is enough for me."

"Yeah, yeah, okay. If you don't want to, I'm not going to force you." She licks her ice cream and sighs dreamily. "Oh, to be high right now though."

You snort out a laugh. For a moment, you start to believe that you'll finally have a somewhat normal moment with Jerry, until she starts to look around with furrowed brows.

"What's wrong?" you ask.

"Give me your ice cream", she says quietly, in that hissing tone you hate.

You do without questioning. Jerry gathers them both in one hand and grabs your arm with the other.

"Pretend to talk to me", she tells you while forcing a half smile while fiddling with her phone in her hands. "Like we haven't noticed anything."

"Noticed what?" you ask in confusion. 

"Keep talking or I'm selling you on eBay!" she hisses through the plastered smile.

You start to mumble a chain of "blah blah blah" while Jerry pretends to be interested. She throws the ice creams away and gives you your helmet.

"We're going to have to go fast as Hell, be prepared", she says, still wearing that smile. "Someone has followed us."

"Are we in danger?" you ask.

"Probably. But I’ve alerted my men, they should come quickly."

You put on your helmet and get on the motorcycle behind you. Jerry tightens your arms around her before blasting off. You're sure that your soul leaves your body when the speed accelerates. Everything around you turns into a blurry mess. Streetlights become long lines of light.

It doesn't take long before Jerry slows down.

"What are you doing?" you ask quickly.

"Something isn't right", she says. "They've fiddled with the bike. Motherfuckers wanted us dead. Get off."

You jump off and remove your helmet. Jerry grabs your hand and pulls you into the nearest alleyway. She slaps her hand over your mouth, hushing aggressively. 

"Be fucking silent", she whispers.

You've been afraid in Jerry’s company before, it's only natural for her occupation, but this is something completely different. You have never been this close to her enemies before. 

"Wait here", she whispers and brings out her gun. "I swear, if you move I'll kill you myself."

Which in Jerry terms translates to something along the lines of "whatever you do, stay hidden so you don't get harmed".

She disappears, leaving you all alone in the dark alleyway. You want nothing more than to sink into the wall and disappear. The minutes seem to pass by like hours. Everything is too silent. The only thing you can hear (beside your own heart beating loudly in your ears) are the sound of the city, sounding as noisy as it usually does. No indication that anything bad is happening. You gulp. Did she get taken? You fear the worst. 

You take a stap forward to peek out of the alleyway when you feel someone grab you from behind. Before you have the time to shout, a hand is clasped over your mouth and something sharp points into your throat. Your entire body freezes. 

“Jerry!” a voice shouts to your left. “I think you want to come look at this.”

You see a man in the corner of your eyes. He smiles widely and turns to you. You look at him with wide eyes. On the wall in Jerry’s headquarters, you’ve seen a picture of this unpleasant man. 

“Oh, Jerry!” he sing-songs. 

Jerry appears at the end of the alleyway with her gun in her hand. You can see her physically backing a step upon seeing the sight, her eyes widening slightly. 

“My man here seems to have found … well, your man”, the unpleasant leader chuckles. 

“Let him go”, Jerry warns, raising her gun. 

“Or what? You’re going to kill me?” His smile widens when noticing Jerry’s hesitation. “If you shoot me, Jerry, my man will kill your boytoy. Do you really want to take that risk?”

“What do you want? You’re obviously talking a crap lot, just get to the point.”

The leader chuckles and nods. “Alright. I’m not going to sugarcoat it, I’m going to kill you.”

“Shocker.”

You don’t understand how Jerry can be so calm in this situation, you think you’re going to shit yourself. 

“But”, the man continues and turns to you, “now I think that I have another idea.” He turns back to Jerry. 

Tears well up in your eyes and spill over. You let your head fall down to avoid Jerry seeing you cry, but the leader grabs your hair, ripping it up again. Jerry flinches. 

“What a man you’ve gotten yourself, Jerry”, he laughs. “Crying like a baby.”

“You’re half the man he is”, Jerry scoffs back angrily. “My boyfriend might be crying, but at least he knows that it’s cowardly to take on people who stand no chance. You’ll never be like him.”

“Put the gun down and come over here like a good little girl and I won’t have your brave, heroic boyfriend killed.”

Jerry glances at you and sighs heavily before throwing the gun to the side. Slowly, she walks over to the man with dark, glaring eyes until she’s right in front of him.

“Call me a good little girl again and I’m going to knock your teeth out”, she says through gritted teeth. 

The man only smiles before knocking Jerry’s head into the brick wall surrounding you. You swallow your scream while watching Jerry’s body slump together on the ground. The leader turns to you and again, the knife against your throat presses against the skin. He collects one of your tears with his hand and licks it. You’re surrounded by maniacs. 

"Please don't kill me", you cry.

"Not yet", the man replies. "I have plans for you. Get him in the car. Don't worry about bruising him, we'll roughen him up later anyways."

You're thrown into the back seat of a car while Jerry’s unconscious body is shoved into the trunk.

After a very unpleasant car ride, you find yourself in a warehouse. Jerry’s thrown onto the stone floor in front of you. They tie her to one of the pillars holding the structure of the building up, while you’re put in a chair. And then, nothing happens. You sit there, trembling like a leaf in the wind, waiting for something — anything — to happen. You want everything to start so it can be over quicker. 

“What are we waiting for?” you whisper. 

"For Jerry to wake up from her little nap", the leader says and gives Jerry's body a faint kick. "Until then, why don't you and I have a little chat, hm? Man to man?"

Rather not.

"How could someone like Jerry choose … someone like you?" he asks, gesticulating at you with his hand as if you are nothing more than filth. "When I think of Jerry's partner, I think of someone equally fucked. You look almost … normal!"

Thank you …?

"Tell me, why you?" 

"I don't know", you answer breathlessly. "I have no idea."

"Really? Hm, that doesn't feel very detailed. Try to think."

"I-I guess that …" You gulp, lightheaded, " … that she just wanted someone outside of her … uh, her world."

The leader picks up a knife from a table dimmed in darkness. You watch it with wide eyes.

"Interesting", the leader says and points at you with the knife. "Then why did you accept her?" He starts to smile. "Or did you?"

"Not really …"

"That's what I thought. Jerry takes what she wants. Wouldn't surprise me if she decided to kidnap you. Does she treat you differently than others? I can't see that."

You figure that if you answer all if his questions, you will be somewhat spared.

"She does", you answer quietly and glance at Jerry's unconscious body. "Compared to others she treats me … uh, rather … well."

The leader laughs. "That's interesting."

You can hear Jerry moan quietly. It sounds painful. You can't help but feel sorry for her.

"Oh!" the leader smirks. "She's awake. Time for the fun to begin."

"Jerry!" you gasp and are about to run over to her, but the man who had held you back before steps I and does it again.

"Behave yourself", he tells you and pushes you back down.

Jerry has noticed the ropes keeping her to the pillar and lifts her head.

"What the fuck are you doing?" she spits. The man grabbed one of the tools.

"I want to play a little", he says, spinning the knife around his fingers. "But not with you. No, not you. With him."

"What?" Jerry asks and turns to look at you.

You've left your body. Your soul is flying around, trying to escape.

"Do not fucking touch him", Jerry warns and fights against the ropes. 

You could feel a hand on your shoulder.

"What are you going to do about it, Jerry?" the leader smirks. "You can't move, now can you?"

She glares at him. You can tell how fear and realization starts to set in by the way she curls up.

"Sometimes, Jerry, I could actually find you cute", the man laughs and suits your arm.

You scream out in surprise and pain. Jerry flinches.

"Fine, fine!" she shouts. "Just tell me what you want, okay?"

"I want to hurt you", the man replies. 

"Then do it?!"

"Hurting him hurts you more than if I ever used physical harm on you directly." 

The knife cuts your shoulder. You swallow your scream and force your eyes shut. Feeling how tears start to bubble in your chest, you breathe heavily.

"Cut me instead!" Jerry shouts, now sounding both furious and frightened. "Leave him alone!"

The man chuckles and grabs a new tool. A potato peeler.

"No, no, please-", you cry.

The potato peeler hovers above your arm. The man holds your hand down to secure your arm in position. You try to wiggle, terrified.

"No!" Jerry screams. "Do that to me! Leave him alone! Are you a coward, or what?!”

“How dare you call me a coward?” he asks. 

“Because you pick on someone that would never be able to defend themself against you! Peel my fucking skin! Do it! I give you the permission to do it!”

The man seems to think about it for a second before smiling. 

“I think I’m good”, he says and hovers the potato peeler above your arm. “I don’t want to give you what you want, Jerry. Simple as that.”

“You have the fucking mentality of a three year old!”

The man smiles and pretends that he hasn't heard anything. The coming hour, Jerry’s forced to watch how the man strips you down, layer by layer, breaking you down into a sobbing mess, blood covering all visible parts of your skin — or more like, what's left of your skin. Through your blurred vision, you can tell that she's crying too. You've never witnessed her cry, or at least not like this. Her body is shaking with sobs. 

Pain is thumping in your ears and your conscious nearly leaving you, but you can still hear her, still see her.

"Stop doing that!" she screams. "Please!"

The ropes have cut into her skin, causing her to bleed. The sight of her is horrifying. You’ve never seen her this pale before, she's almost taken on a green hue.

"Please stop", she begs and screams once the man picks up a gun. She starts to frantically fight against the ropes again. "Please, I need him! Don't kill him! He's all I have!"

The man stops to look at her and smirks, lowering the gun.

"Oh, right, your dear family", he purrs. "Your poor, little, unsuspecting family. Where are they now, Jerry? Tell me."

Jerry squeezes her eyes tightly shut. You can feel the gaping hole of the gun press against your temple.

"Tell me or I'll fucking kill him", he growls.

"They're fucking dead!" she shouts through broken sobs, glaring at him. "Someone fucking murdered them, okay?!"

"Mhm, and they didn't suspect a thing!"

Jerry’s eyes widen as she puts things together. Your messed up head can also understand the uncanny connection.

"Did you …?"

"It was so satisfying, seeing the scums who gave birth to you disappear from this earth. That’s what they deserved — for giving birth to someone like you.” He turned back to you, rising the gun towards you again. “And now, I’m going to get rid of the last one you care about.”

You shut your eyes, preparing yourself to die. Your body is exhausted. You don’t want anymore pain, better to put you out of your misery.

“No, please”, Jerry shakes her head. “Please, let him live. I will do anything if you let us leave.”

“As tempting as that is, I rather want you dead.”

He hovers his fingers on the trigger. His body suddenly jolts to the side, falling down. The gun clinks against the stone floor. You look up in horror. The door opens and black dressed men run in. They’ll kill you, you think. On the contrary, they untie Jerry who flies up from the floor to get over to you. You fall into her arms, sinking down on your knees. Jerry hugs you tightly, holding your head down in her shoulder. 

“My poor baby”, she sobs, running her hands over your back — the only place where you’re still unharmed. “I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Too exhausted to cry, you just sit in her embrace. You’re not even sure if you’re happy that her men came in time to save you. You’re still in excruciating pain … and you’ll have to live with this memory for the rest of your life. 

“It’s okay, baby boy”, she whispers in your ear and sobs. “You’re safe now. Don’t cry. I’ll patch you up, I’ll take care of you, I promise.”

Weirdly enough, her being nice makes you feel even worse. You’d rather have her joke about your pain and tell you to ‘man up’ instead of her babying you. You can feel her lips press against your forehead. 

“Don’t cry”, she whispers, hugging you tighter. “My beautiful boy.”

One of her men carries you out to a black van where they patch you and Jerry up to their best ability. Every move hurts, everything burns. 

The second you get home, you’re tucked in bed together with Jerry. She holds your body close to hers. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N”, she whispers. “I really am. I’m sorry that you had to experience so much. I really, really am.”

“I’m so tired”, you whisper monotonically. 

“It’s okay, baby boy. Just sleep. Nothing will ever hurt you again. I will never let anything come close to you again. From now on, I’ll never let you out of this room. I will take any repercussions to keep you safe.” She cups your cheeks. “I did mean that — that you’re all I have. And I will keep you by my side.”

“I want to sleep.”

“Sleep. Sleep for as long as you want, I will be here and I will kill anyone that tries to disturb you, I fucking swear on that.”

She kisses your forehead and rests your head on her chest. You drift of to sleep immediately, hoping that all the pain will be gone once you wake up. Somewhere in the distance, you think you hear Jerry cry softly.

[baby-jaguar]

CoD Western AU and Mail Order Spouse Trope

Howdy!

Welcome to my version of a Wild West AU & Mail-Order Spouse Trope. Introduction of the reader scenario will be down below and a little digital art will be added in to show our lovely options of spouses. This is Gender Neutral.

This was my first Au and trope project I’ve worked on. While I learn and decide how I want to upload this, I hope everyone enjoys or just gets a kick out of this!

Introduction & Backstory

Your life wasn’t awful, per se, but sometimes you wonder if you say that to yourself to cope with what you’ve been through. Simply put, you were your family's breadwinner, caretaker, and damage controller. You were poor-ish, where you had to use scraps of fabrics to make your clothes, but yet your father could always afford a bottle to be in his hand, and your mother out on the porch smoking whatever she needed that day to cope and try to be a mom and wife.

Coat of many colors indeed.

You worked, and you have worked from a young age to continuously support your family as you didn't have a choice if you wanted to keep the roof over your head. Although, you were thankful that your mother was adamant you went to the schoolhouse and got at least a good amount of education.

After attending school for a few years until puberty, you were in the working class; your job as a domestic servant included the taste of farmhand, tailoring, and working to cann fruits that were grown on the farm. After a long shift on the warm and humid spring day, you walked back home to hear your father yelling as usual but stopped when you heard your name being spoken.

“As soon as we sell that damn nuisance, we’ll be rolling in dough. I can’t believe that damn bastard politician wants our kin. Said once he’s back from his campaign up north he’ll come meet ‘em.” He laughs before taking another swig of his drink, your mother laughing along with him as she has a lit pipe in the house for the first time in a long time.

Now, you to truly understand the depravity of this; the seriousness of her celebrating with a lit drug inside the house.

Your stomach drops, nausea rolling over you at the thought of them selling you off to the old and decrepit wealthy politician for marriage to get money. Money that they’ll blow through, having never learned to control their vices turned addictions.

A cold sweat breaks out on you as you swallow down the urge to expel the minimal amount of food in your worn-out body, and promptly turn around and walk back into town.

Walking the dark streets, you navigate quietly and hide behind the shadows of the night with only a few dimly lit light posts flickering their oil flame light. While walking the edge of the closed shops, you see a dirty newspaper thrown on the ground and almost step over it until a small headline catches your eye.

“FRONTIER MEN, LOOKING FOR CAPABLE SPOUSE”

Your eyes scan quickly over the matrimony company advertising for men located in the frontier lands, each searching for promising spouses and wanting to marry soon. You read over the information, seeing that the listed men below are located in newly booming towns out west, a few even located in mining towns or having their own company.

Your body zings with a chill of adrenaline at the thought of diving head first into chance and change, but you knew something much better could be awaiting you…

Should you do it?

looking around, the humid and small town looks back at you as you enter a hardened state of mind; What would become if you stayed here? The disgusting politician's new toy just to break? Your parents are already planning on how to drain their funds dry within a month of letting their addictions take over? You don't have friends, your boss is the closest thing to one just because you spend hours each and every day working.

Yeah.

You're gonna fucking do it.

Taking a seat, your eyes quickly scan down the page of advertisements, looking over the small blurbs of descriptions offered. The correspondence cost would be 10 cents, meaning you have one chance to get his attention and get the new life you need.

Simon Riley Biography, Meeting Simon,

John Price Biography, Meeting John

Kyle Garrick Biography, Meeting Kyle

John MacTavish Biography, Meeting Johnny

Phillip Graves Biography, Meeting Phillip

Alejandro Vargas Biography, Meeting Alejandro

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Halloween prompts no. 9

Desiree was going to get her butt kicked. An then she was going to spend two whole weeks in the thermos.

Danny wasn't sure who wished for what, only that he heard his wish granting ghost yell, "So you have wished it, so shall it be!" And then the whole city was in the sky above another city and now here he was strugging to hold up the entirety of Amity Park while people screamed in terror both above and below him. Parts of the newly formed giant island above him were beginning to break off and fall down to the people below, forcing Phantom to spend more energy to freeze the entire bottom to make it more structurally sound.

A few minutes passed with him slowly inching Amity Park away from the city below it before both a man and woman dressed in American flag-ish colors flew up to him and began helping him out. Phantom was relieved and all together they moved Amity out of the way and Phantom phased it promptly into the ground. By the time they were done the city looked like it had been there for decades. The people introduced themselves as Superman and Wonderwoman and they turned out to be very nice and offered him a place on a "team" of some kind.

Phantom thanked them for their compliments and rejected the offer, not bothering to hide his suspension and then seemingly vanished into thin air. He could take care of himself well enough and didn't need adults to cause him more trouble like they always inevitably did.

Sure. He missed his parents who were in Wisconsin at Vlads funeral. He wasn't sure how the fruitloop kicked the bucket but Clockwork confirmed he was fully dead and not a ghost so. Eh. His sister was seventeen now and could take care of him and Ellie well enough that the authorities wouldn't care. Just like she did all throughout his childhood.

Turns out the city they almost crashed into was called Gotham, a fact Sam loved, and they were in a totally new world/reality/dimension filled with superheros and supervillians. Danny was relieved when he found that the ghost portals no longer worked and thought he could finally go back to being a normal kid.

Nope.

Turns out villains from both Gotham and Bludhaven saw Amity as free real estate and Danny had to fight them off. Whats more is that Danny needed to find a new source of ecto energy to feed off of, which lead to him finding the Lazarus Pit under Gotham, purifying it, maintaining it with filters and whatnot from his parents lab and basically chilling there with Ellie in thier ghost forms.

Jazz, Danny, and Ellie were quick to dismantle all of thier parents stuff to both make thier house look totally normal and not suspicious at all and to get rid of any weapons or info that might harm Danny or Ellie. Of course it wasn't long before the bats and birds infiltrated Amity and Phantom fought them off, claiming this was his territory, thank you very much and now he was fighting off Villians AND heroes alike.

Danny was both glad and dismayed that the internet didn't come with them from thier world, forcing them to use this worlds information. Tucker only had to do minor things to protect Dannys identity and the people of Amity quickly got the memo of not telling anyone about the ghosts, especially Phantom.

Sam was worried about her parents finances do to them no longer being able to access thier bank accounts only to find out that her parent (grangran especially) kept a large chunk of thier fortune hidden away in thier giant mansion. So they were fine.

The Fenton kids (actually just Danny but whatever) were left everything in Vlads will so the mansion and everything in it was thiers. (Danny wanted to sell the mansion but got vetoed by the others who wanted to redecorate it since the place was practically a fortress armed to the teeth. Plus, being the dramatic idiot he was, Vlad had a crap-ton of jewels, cash and literal gold bars hidden throughout the place. Wild. Not to mention all the vehicles and stuff in there. Tucker swears this was the fifth room he entered that had a helicopter in it. Wth.

So they were fine.

The rest of Amity Park couldn't say the same. Many had jobs out of the city they couldn't get to anymore or worked in an office working for a company were the main branch was out of state and couldn't be contacted. Meaning no one could send them a paycheck. Many were forced to look for employment in Gotham and Bludhaven.

Everything was a wreck. Luckly Bruce Wayne and Tim Drake had a plan to help the people of Amity Park while also getting on the local heros good side.

[deliciousdefendorinternet]

in Defence of Creek ( warning if your an Avid Creek Hater you may not want to read this 😂😂 )

ps. Branch will Hair strangle some guy he Barely knew who he didn't even care about for betraying them but doesn't do the same to his Jerkass Brothers who let him down his whole life 🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️.

anyway onto the topic at hand 😂😂😂😂

Creek gets an unfair Rap in my opinion sure he technically betrayed the village but when you examine the story of the first film he literally had no other choice.

as there's no other scenario that didn't end with him being Horribly Eaten as soon as he was picked by Chef for Gristle Jr to eat and taken out of the cage his fate was sealed.

unlike the rest of the snack pack he didn't have the option of sitting around waiting on the off chance Poppy would Rescue them.

we see in the Betrayal scene he was literally in Gristle's mouth before he finally played the only card he could and said he'd do what ever they wanted him to do.

and from then on he was kept in Gristle's locket around his neck which I have to say was Horrible poor guy was stuffed in their with no space or light or even air given how tight it was.

and he was kept there until eventually being moved out of the locket and put into Chef's waist bag just before the snack pack got the Locket from Gristle and were then captured by Chef.

and from that point like Creek himself said there was literally nothing else he could do that wouldn't result in him being killed straight away by Chef.

this is what rubs me the wrong way about the movie trying to make him into a villain he has no real agency in the betrayal it'd be a little easier for me to Judge him.

if he was kept in the cage with the Rest of the Snack Pack so he had the option of just having faith in Poppy someone he claimed to care about.

coming to save them but instead he took the more cowardly action and offered to sell everyone out early on in order to save himself then I feel it'd work a little better.

but having him be plucked from the cage early on and literally only betray everyone when he was on the verge of being eaten just makes him a victim in my eyes.

like I'm sorry but he can't be blamed too much for anything he does at that point he's just a normal civilian who's life was put in danger by negligent leaders ( cough Peppy cough ).

he technically wasn't obligated to die then and there and the whole situation with him selling out the Village is a classic Trolley Problem sure its easy to Judge.

from the outside but when we're on the verge of being gruesomely murdered who's to say what each of us would do in the moment to stay alive.

basically its Chef's actions and she's the one to blame not Creek dude was a literal Hostage who had been kidnaped Humiliated by being shoved in a taco and sprinkled with spicy stuff.

and then nearly eaten and then crammed into a tiny locket for presumably Hours and then crammed into a waist bag like how is this guy not the victim here?

and some people do like to point to how he behaved about the whole thing telling Poppy he's doing it for her but I'm sorry that doesn't change anything in my eyes.

sure its an unusual reaction but its also an unusual situation and I see it more as him weakly attempting to justify it to himself since he does admit he wishes there was another way but is promptly reminded by Chef that there isn't.

his Reaction isn't Great but it doesn't change the situation and make him some pure evil person.

a little autistic maybe? given the weird response to an emotional situation he has but yeah it doesn't make him worse in my eyes.

basically to end things the film as well as the fandom that villainise him seem to basically be saying that he should have just laid down and accepted his gruesome fate the first time.

and the movie even ends on a cruel irony of still being eaten along with Chef.

which for Chef is ironic in a karmic way but for Creek its just kinda sad tbh so the film's saying his death was decided at the start and he's a villain for not accepting it the first time.

and as punishment he meets the same fate in the end anyway.

I thought this was a Trolls film not a Final Destination film lol.

anyway even tho its separate cannon I was Happy when he was Revealed to still be alive in TBGO sure I feel his Return could have been written way better.

but Regardless I'm Glad he's still alive he didn't deserve to die and also the movie cannon never contradicts the tv show cannon in Terms of Creek's survival.

so yeah he could very well still be alive in the movies as well sorry Haters 😅😅😅😅.

[atinylittlepain]

Hayloft - A Joel Miller Story

Joel Miller x dancer!reader

series masterlist

Joel thought they were joking, really. But when his patrol partners lead him through the back of the Tipsy Bison and slip down a dim flight of stairs, he realizes rather quickly that The Hayloft is no joke.

warnings | 18+ smut (duh), angst, joel being a ding dong

a/n | thanks must be given to @pedgeitopascal for letting me take on this idea <3

songs of this chapter:

I can't quit you babe - Led Zeppelin

Queen of boredness - Kinny

Do I move you? - Nina Simone

..............................

Joel pulls on a faint memory at the periphery of his mind. A summer day in Austin, he and Tommy sitting on the curb outside their childhood home with their knees up to their ears, sweating in the stifling warmth of the afternoon. Barely-dropped voices murmuring back and forth as Joel flipped through the magazine held between them. He had been trying to act cool, like his first year of middle school had manned him up compared to his younger brother. But he remembers that thick heat creeping up his throat, and a flush that couldn’t just be chalked up to the Texas sun as their eyes roamed over bare bodies, spread legs, and faces contorted in what they supposed was pleasure. They had found the old Playboy tucked under their parents’ mattress, bored out of their melting minds and stewing in the AC. It was the first time he could remember feeling like that, somewhere between curious and uncomfortable, excited and ashamed. 

He thinks about it now as he experiences that same feeling, forty years and change later, sitting in the basement of the Tipsy Bison.

“Where the fuck did they get those shoes?”

“There’s a mall, 15 miles south.” “They didn’t sell shoes like that at malls, man.” Joel is inclined to agree with the man making the observation on that point, wearily eyeing the dizzying struts of heels on the stage in front of him. He only lets his eyes wander upward briefly, spanning bare legs, catching a glance of scrappy lace, before turning his face back down to the swirling whiskey in his glass.

Honestly, when one of the men on his patrol team mentioned this place, Joel thought it was a joke, muttering a gruff “yeah, sure” when they invited him along for a night at The Hayloft. But he realized he was sorely mistaken when the group of men guided him into the Tipsy Bison, promptly walking through the door to the back where they kept all their kegs and slipping down a flight of dimly lit steps.

He recognized a few people immediately in the glowing red light, other men he had been on patrol with, playing pool and smoking in the back of the room. But most of them were seated, eyes glued to the raised platform in the center of what was clearly a bar, beneath a bar. It took a second for his brain to catch up to a sight so completely unexpected. 

Swaying hips, curving spines, flicking hair, wandering hands, and dipping legs. Women, looking like something straight out of a porn film. 

Now listen, Joel Miller was raised by a mother who taught him to be a gentleman, and as such, he had never once been in an establishment like this place, not before, and certainly not after the world fell apart. But, he is a man, afterall, and he can’t exactly help the way his eyes keep darting to one particular figure shimmying around on the stage. So, as he sits amongst his patrol partners, taking zinging sips of liquor, he feels that familiar heat creeping up his throat, making him stiffen up in more ways than one.

The music changes all of a sudden, a man’s rasped shout and a dragging guitar riff laid over a slumped drumbeat. He recognizes it, though he can’t quite place it in the haze. There’s four women up on the stage, and while three of them step down, slinking amongst the seated men, the other one, the one Joel has been watching, crooks her arm around the pole he had thought was only for decoration. 

He no longer tries to hide his stare, watching the arc of her hips as she dips and snaps her hair out of her face, the thin fabric of what could only be described as panties pulling taut across the curve of her ass. She moves like liquid, curling around the pole and lifting up into the air, neck stretched long as she arches back in a perfect spin. 

“She’s good, right?” Joel glances at Harris, his patrol partner who just spoke, grunting something noncommittal at the man’s broad grin, not wanting to miss a second of her performance. And a performance it most certainly is. She’s perfect, glowing in the faint red lights of the bar, every outstretched leg, every twist and bend, radiant and divine. Suspended in air, one arm elongated, before tracing a line of desire with her palm dragging down her bare torso, hips swerving obscenely up into the flicker of her fingertips. And then, with the next staggering string of guitar chords, she drops, catching herself at just the last moment. A delicate heel is lowered, followed by the other as the room resounds in applause, Joel only now realizing that he needs to pick his jaw up off the table. 

The track changes, a stilted rhythm that she starts to bob her head side to side to as she steps down off the stage. Even her walk is like a dance, hips swaying, hands grazing the sides of her bare thighs as she moves, and Joel realizes too late that she’s coming directly toward their table.

“Harris, who’s your friend?” 

“Cherry, this is Joel Miller. He’s new in town. Joel, this is Cherry.” She tilts her head at him, a simpering smile crinkling her eyes as she leans forward, breasts all but spilling out of the cups of her bra. Joel stutters into motion when it clicks in his brain that she’s holding out her hand for him to shake, his palm sliding against hers in a firm squeeze.

“Nice to meet you, Joel Miller. What’d you think of the show?” He has to clear his throat a few times before he speaks, an icy heat prickling the back of his neck all the while.

“I, um– you’re something else.” Jesus fucking christ, that’s the best you could do? She, however, seems to like his answer, smile broadening into a grin.

“I’ll take that as a compliment. Well, if you gentlemen will excuse me–” Her eyes glance down and back up to Joel, twice, and he only figures out that it’s because he’s still holding her hand when she gives his palm another squeeze. He’s quick to let go of her hand, though he wishes he hadn’t. But his dismay dissolves with the sight of her walking away, and the way her ass shakes with each sublime step. He cranes his neck, only catching a glimpse of her slipping through a door in the back of the bar. 

“Easy, Miller. You can look, but you can’t touch.”

“Where’s that door go?” Harris laughs, shaking his head.

“Look, man, don’t worry about that. Everyone falls in love with Cherry when they first see her. But it’ll pass. She’s off-limits.”

“Why?” Harris shrugs.

“She just is. They all are. Keeps things civil, y’know?” Joel has no interest in being civil, not right now. He hasn’t wanted something this bad in a long time, and even though Harris tries to call him back, he doesn’t so much as tilt his head in acknowledgement as he wades through the simmering haze of the bar toward the door he saw her go through. 

He only briefly wonders at just how big this basement is when he shoulders through the door and into a dimly lit hallway.

“Nat, is that you? Did your set finish already?” Her voice is coming from behind a cracked door further down the hallway, which Joel follows with little thought to it. 

“What the fuck?” It’s a blurry string of events. He catches the quickest glimpse of her when he sidesteps through the door, seeing her standing in front of a mirror, her bra loose and unfastened, hanging on her shoulders. But it becomes apparent pretty fast that this was possibly the stupidest (and creepiest) way he could have tried to get her attention when she catches sight of him in the periphery of the mirror, whipping around and startling a few feet back before hurling something small at him that still hurts like hell when it makes contact with his forehead.

“Jesus– shit!” He instinctively curls over himself, one hand on his thigh and the other pressing into the spot just above his eyebrow that seems to be bleeding from what he now sees was a hairbrush.

“What the hell is your problem, man? You thought you could get an extra look? You think you’re special, huh? Is that it?” His head is reeling, and it’s all he can do to straighten back up, still applying pressure to his well-deserved wound. In the time it’s taken him to collect himself, she’s slipped a robe on, tied close and tight around her waist.

“N-no, no. That isn’t– I just– wanted to talk, um, to you.” He feels like he’s got cotton in his mouth, gumming up his words and drying out his throat until it all comes out garbled and wrong. She lets out a bitter laugh, brushing past him and opening the door wider, fixing him with a hard look.

“Yeah, nice try, buddy. But I’ve heard that one before, and lemme tell you, that’s not how this works. Now get out.” She doesn’t have to tell him twice, Joel shuffling through the door, though he stops for a moment to say something.

“I’m– I’m sorry, ma’am. I don’t know what I was thinking. But I swear, this ain’t how I am, normally. Fuck– I’m just– I’m sorry.” He doesn’t wait around for a response from her, hurrying back down the hall and out into the bar, not even looking for Harris as he makes a beeline for the stairs, taking them two at a time and getting the fuck out of the Hayloft and the Tipsy Bison.

The fresh night air is something of a relief, though Joel is still mortified, thick and heavy guilt settling in his bones as he stumbles home. He realizes now that he had been a fucking fool, thinking that she had, what? Been flirting with him? He scoffs to himself, knowing that it had just been a part of her act, her performance. And Joel bought it, hook, line, and sinker. 

When he gets home, he takes a shower, scrubbing harshly at his skin, trying to clean away the sickening shame settled just beneath the surface. He knew better, he was raised better, and he’s horrified with himself that even at his age, he wound up thinking with his dick rather than his mind. Looking in the mirror, he sees the sizable cut, just over his left eyebrow, what will serve as a reminder to him to not get distracted by pretty, shiny things. 

He doesn’t sleep well, tossing and turning in his sheets. The only real conclusion he reaches is that he’ll never set foot in the Tipsy Bison, or the Hayloft, again.

…

Joel is not having a good morning. Normally he’d feel at least a twinge of contentment in working at the stables, but today, the only thing he can focus on is his pounding headache and the embarrassing memory of last night. 

He had only barely escaped Ellie’s questioning earlier this morning when she came downstairs and into the kitchen, telling him that he “seemed pissier than usual” before asking him where he got “that dinky little cut.” 

Luckily, working the stables usually means he doesn’t have to talk to anyone except for the horses, the quiet tasks helping somewhat to ease his mind. His relief is short-lived, however, when he hears a newly familiar voice nearing the stables. Sure enough, when he peers out of the stables, he sees her, leading one of the new colts around the pen. While she looks a lot different than how she did last night, blue jeans and a ratty work coat hiding her figure, Joel would recognize that smile anywhere. Before he can return to hauling sacks of feed around, her eyes catch his, and she clearly does a double take, squinting at him in the morning sun. 

“Hey.” A single word, a jerk of her chin, and then she’s walking over to him, and Joel suddenly has no clue what to do with his hands, shoving them deep in the front pockets of his jeans.

“I wanted to talk to you.” She crosses her arms over her chest, head tilted as she stands before him. Joel has enough sense this morning not to come off like a total fool.

“Again, I’m real sorry about last night. I wasn’t thinking, at all. It won’t happen again, I promise.” She sighs, toeing her boot into the dirt before glancing back up at him.

“Thank you for your apology. It’s fine, really. You weren’t the first, and lord knows you won’t be the last. I guess it kinda comes with the territory.” The laugh she lets out is clipped, clearly trying to hide the sore tinge to her words.

“Y’know, I don’t think I’ve ever been called ma’am before.” It’s unexpected, the wry crook of her smile as she says it, and Joel has to huff out a laugh, rocking a bit on his heels. But his laugh fizzles out when she brushes her fingers over his forehead, leaning up and tracing his cut.

“That hairbrush did a little number on you, huh? Sorry about that.” Her touch is gone as quick as it had been there, but the warmth creeping across his face remains.

“S’alright. Reckon I deserved it anyways.” That earns him another smile and a light laugh.

“Yeah, I guess you did.” Her words come out airy, the quirk of her grin telling him that she means it as much as she’s joking about it, and it emboldens him just enough to say something else.

“Can I ask you something?” She purses her lips, squinting up at him.

“You can ask, and maybe I’ll answer.” 

“How come I’ve never seen you around before?”

“You’re new, right? It may be a small town, but everyone works. I’ve been here for years and there’s probably still folks I don’t know just because we’re on different work schedules.” 

“And is that– what you do at the bar– is that work?” She hums at his question, all smiles when she answers.

“Did that look like work to you?” His mind darts back to last night, her performance, and he has to swallow hard around the memory. She huffs out a laugh when he remains silent.

“No, that’s not work. Just a little fun, an escape, y’know? Forget about everything going on up above ground for a while.” He nods, certainly being able to understand the desire to forget the world, even for a few hours. They stand in silence, a hiccup of time, just looking at each other, which she breaks with a sigh.

“Well, I better get back to work. But, are we good?” 

“Think that’s for you to decide, ma’am.” The laugh that coaxes out of her is different, fuller, as she tosses her head back, eyes crinkling up when she does look at him again.

“Hmm, yeah, I’d say we’re good. See you around, Joel.” With that, she turns on her heel, heading back out to the horsepen. But Joel still has another question for her.

“Wait– that’s not your real name, is it? Cherry?” She grins over her shoulder at him, shrugging a little.

“Why don’t you come see another show sometime? Maybe I’ll answer your question then.” 

…

He recognizes the music immediately. Nina Simone, something his mother liked to spin on the old record player in the living room, snapping and popping with the drawl of the needle. But his mother is the last thing he’d like to think about right now. 

He went alone this time, ducking down the stairs and sitting on a stool at the bar, using a glass of whiskey in his hand as an anchor as his eyes scanned the murky room. He feels his heart sink when he doesn’t see her up on the stage, nor in the crowd, but his disappointment fades when someone taps him on the shoulder, making him turn around in his seat. 

“Hey, you came.” She’s in those same damn, mile-high shoes, that same little black set. But Joel has resolved himself this time to be a gentleman, and as such he keeps his eyes upward, as best he can. 

“I was looking for you– wasn’t sure if I came on the wrong night.” Her smile is tinged red by the lights of the bar, eyes glimmering in the haze.

“Well, you actually just missed my set.” He feels his shoulders slump at that, only a little embarrassed by his clear display of discontent and the way that she catches it with a laugh.

“But, if you’d like, I could show you what you missed.” He doesn’t think he heard her right, his head ducking a bit, eyes squinting at her easy grin. She brings a hand to his bicep, fingers trailing down until they’re tangling with his and she starts walking backwards. It’s all Joel can do to shuffle along to her gentle tug, his brain short-circuiting all over again. 

She pulls him through the backdoor, and then through the same door he had so witlessly stepped through the last time. He actually gets a good look at the room this time, what appears to be a makeshift dressing room, a few mirrors propped against one wall, clothes slung on a coat rack, and a ratty couch pushed into the corner. She drags him inside, Joel all but stumbling over his feet as she gives him a light shove down onto the couch, taking a few steps back and resting her hands on her hips. The music is only a faint throb through the walls now, quiet enough that he can hear his heartbeat kicking and quickening, blood rushing.

Her hips already have a little sway in them, the ghost of a smile as she keeps her eyes on him, and Joel muses to himself that whatever this is, it’s all going to be on her terms, always. 

“Since I don’t have the pole, I’ll have to improvise a little bit, that ok with you?” Worried that his voice would betray him, he just nods, the sound of her laugh relaxing his shoulders from where they had been pinned up by his ears. 

“Besides, I don't think those men out there really care about the moves, so long as my ass and tits are out. But I’m an artist, y’know? I care.” As if to emphasize her point, she steps one foot out, arcing her hips in a circle, and arching her back, her ass on perfect display as she grins over her shoulder at him. All Joel can think is that this must be a dream, that there’s no way this is actually happening. But seeing her dance up close, there’s no denying how real she is. He can see the sheen of sweat across her sternum, the little pull of her brows as she moves, the curved crease where her ass meets her thigh, and it all only makes him want her more. 

“Hmm, I have to admit, I prefer dancing with a prop. Do you mind?” Though he’s not entirely sure what he’s not minding, Joel shakes his head no. He reckons that he wouldn’t even mind if she asked to stab him in the thigh, not at this point. She’s got that smile again, like she knows a secret she’s never going to tell him, as she saunters toward him, one knee and then the other coming to rest against the outsides of his thighs. The last sane part of his mind tells him that he still needs to be a gentleman, so he keeps his hands balled in fists on the couch cushions. He can see the intricacy of the thin lace detailing over her bra, her chest is so close to his face as she rests her forearms over his shoulders. He clears his throat, trying to focus on her face instead of her hips dipping and hovering over him.

“Did you, uh– did you do this for work before?” 

“Mmhmm, made good money too. Was putting myself through college with it and everything.” She giggles at the raise of his eyebrows, tilting her head at him as she continues to sway in his lap. 

“What? Does that surprise you?” 

“Maybe a little, though to be honest, I’m starting to get used to you surprising me.” 

“You can touch me, y’know.” He freezes at that, any ease he had slipping away under the prickling heat of her gaze.

“Don’t think that’s a good idea, ma’am.” He can tell that she finds his response amusing, her smile slanting and eyes squinting at him.

“And why not?” 

“I’d rather not get another hairbrush thrown at me.” He tries not to, he really does, but he can’t help the way his eyes dart down to the swell of her breasts lightly bouncing with her laugh. It’s a quick little thing, the kiss she presses to the cut above his eyebrow, but it’s enough to melt his resolve down into a dripping puddle.

“I promise I won’t throw anything else at you. But why do I get the feeling that’s not the only reason you’re hesitating?” He lets out a sigh, and she stills on top of him.

“Oh god– did I completely read this wrong? I’m so–”

“N-no! That ain’t it. It’s just– I barely know you and I– you gotta know that I don’t usually do stuff like this.” “Stuff like what?” 

“Like whatever you’ve got planned in that pretty head of yours.” She huffs out a laugh at that.

“Why don’t I tell you my real name? Then you’ll know me a little better than barely.”  She leans in, lips grazing his ear, her name coming out on a whisper that Joel thinks will spin in his mind for the rest of his life. At the same time, her hands slip down his arms, uncurling his fists and guiding his palms to splay over her hips. Joel takes it from there, hands dragging down over the tops of her thighs before roaming up the span of her back.

“There, was that so hard?” Her smug look makes him grumble, hands dipping down to cup her ass and give an experimental squeeze that makes her gasp.

“Got another question for you, darlin.” She crooks a brow at him, waiting.

“Why me, huh? Could have any one of those guys out there. And I didn’t exactly make a good first impression.” Her smile screws up, eyes narrowing like she’s really considering what he said.

“Because you look like someone who’d like to forget for a while, same as me. And I like it when you call me ma’am.”

Things go downhill fast from there. It’s been a long time since Joel has kissed a woman, but he’s quick on the uptake, his lips molding with hers, tongues twisting up between little sighs and the clicks of spit. His hands firm up on her hips, pulling her down to grind against his aching hardness, reveling in the whimper that breaks in her throat when he does. 

He just needed a little certainty from her, and now that he has it, he moves with confidence beneath her, dragging his lips down her chest, mouthing at the fabric of her bra, pulling away only briefly when she shrugs the garment off before dipping back down to take one of her peaked nipples into his mouth. She says his name like a plea, breathless and pitchy and he’d like to replay the sound on an infinite loop in his mind. 

“No teasing– not this time. One of the girls could– fuck– could come in any minute.” His heart flips in his chest when she says this time, the promise of this happening again making him lightheaded as she fumbles with his belt buckle. He rests his forehead on her sternum, batting her hands away to finish the job of unbuttoning his jeans and shucking them down with his boxers, just enough for his cock to bounce out, pre-cum smearing over the bottom of his shirt. She works with deft hands, reaching between them to thumb over his leaking slit, rubbing the slickness down his shaft  as he hisses at her delicate touch while at the same time, she’s pulling her panties to the side and moving to hover over his throbbing tip.

His eyes roll back when she slides down on him in one languid move, his fingers gripping harshly into the plush of her ass. It’s almost too much, the fluttering heat of her wrapping him up as she sighs on top of him, lips dragging across his in a broken kiss. And then she starts to move, and Joel thinks this might just be how he dies. It starts with a few tentative swirls, just like the ones he saw her do up on that stage the first time, but that quickly morphs into sweet little bounces that he guides with his hands cupping her ass.

Neither of them speak, only letting out little gasps of pleasure, her uh uh uhs driving him crazy with each bounce. He firms his feet up on the ground, starting to meet her hips with his own thrusts, her back arching at the sensation and a silent cry stretching across her lips. More than anything, he wants to feel her come and he sets his mind on it singularly, bringing one of his hands around to draw sloppy circles over her clit, groaning at the way she spasms around him in response. He brings his other hand up to hold her by the back of the neck, pulling her closer until he can smear his lips across her ear in a hot whisper, low murmurings of how bad he wants it, how good she feels, how he’s dying to see her come for him.

And she does, with a harsh yelp of his name, fingernails digging into his shoulder blades through the fabric of his t-shirt. She slumps in his grip, and it takes all of Joel’s willpower to pull her off of him, finishing himself off with a few frantic strokes of his hand before his spend is smudging across her tensing belly. 

They hold onto each other hard, trying to find stillness after their heady spin of pleasure. Beneath their breathless pants, the dull thrum of music still seeps into the walls from the bar, a reminder of what actually just happened, and how fucked he truly is now that he’s gotten a taste of her. 

........................

taglist (lmk if you want added or dropped): @littlelou22 @mydailyhyperfixations @harriedandharassed @amanitacowboy @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @beskarandblasters @ariiiloves @swiftispunk @cutesyscreenname @brittmb115 @funnygirlthatgab

[lkaluna]

He plans on building himself a cabin in the woods, away from civilization and regaining the contact with others slowly. 

If it were his decision, Maedhros would probably go on and start appearing publicly again, but it might be kinder on other people not to. He’s relearning self-control and respecting boundaries, he’s not going to leap into politics immediately. (He will get into politics again soon, that much he is sure of, just not perhaps this soon.)

The cabin in the woods sound more appalling every time he thinks about it. Too far away from people, how is he meant to re-accustom others to his presence when there are no others around?

He mentions so much to Caranthir the next time he ends up laying on his brother’s couch, smoking some suspicious leaves Amrod apparently dropped of a few weeks earlier and Moryo just laughs. 

„We have a house on Tol Eressea. My wife hates the island, but the taxes for selling property there are horrendous.”

„You’re offering I could stay there?”

„Transferring property to family is free. Promise to reimburse us sensibly once you are able and it’s yours.”

„Your wife won’t mind?”

„She’s been offering the house to every reasonable relative, you’re the first who even considers it. Trust me, she’ll be delighted”

„You know, you were always my favorite brother”

(In a hindsight, he should have probably asked why does his sister in law hate this house so much.)

The first time he saw her, Maedhros was convinced he had seen a ghost.

(She lives on this island, it’s the newest, biggest market they just opened. Why should she not be there?)

(If only he haven’t seen her on bloody a marketplace before.)

The second time it happens, Elwing sees him too and freezes. He considers approaching and apologizing, but Fingon keeps giving him the talks about giving people space, so instead he just nods and gets out of there.

(He considers mentioning that meeting to Fingon, but decides against it. They are only starting to be at ease with one another again and that would worry him too much.)

They keep running at one-another and he knows she’s uncomfortable. He is too. For a brief moment, he plans on giving up this doubtful pleasure (really, new market or not, why are there so many people there, all buying spices?) and going back to shopping on a smaller, local market but then she deliberately snatches the last pink melon from the stand after seeing him reach for it and that really pisses him off. 

(Fingon was going to visit, and considering how one flavor he always adored was that of pink Vanyarin melons, Maedhros really doesn’t think he can be blamed for his later actions.)

A week later, he overhears her talking to a woman he can only assume to be Galadriel’s daughter about needing to buy cloves for Earendil’s favorite dish and promptly makes sure to purchase all the remaining ones.

It’s a war now and there’s no knowing who will break down first.

Afterwards, it would be foolish not to expect a retaliation, so the next time Fingon visits he makes sure to get to the market extra early. He reaches the melon-seller, just to be informed that all of the fruits have already been sold out.

A seagull laughs at him.

Better person would have given in. Luckily, he really doubts that Elwing sees him as a better person.

He persuades Caranthir to help him bribe the vendor into sending the next month’s delivery of cloves directly to his house.

(In a hindsight, the unfortunate chain of the house’s ownership is to be blamed on birds. They shit on the porch constantly. Elwing really does not control the local pigeons (but will not, under any condition, ask them to stop, not while he is holding the cloves hostage). It’s not her fault he moved into this neighborhood. They even exchange a couple of semi-polite letters on this matter.)

A couple of years latter, Elrond almost gets an aneurysm after coming across his mother and Maedhros shopping together and discussing which of the vendors has the best tomatoes. 

[kittybroker]

I wanted to submit my cat Ombra, and his sister Serafina.

Unfortunately, Ombra passed away a day or two before new years last year, after struggling with kidney disease.

As a PSA (nothing graphic but it is sad), I want everyone to know that kidney disease is a common cause of death among cats, however it’s not always fatal if you catch it early enough, so they can be on the look out for it. The instant you notice them having strange bodily emissions (runny when it should be solid, etc.), and drinking water in desperate amounts, among other symptoms, you should get them to a vet as quickly as possible. But if the cat has already stopped eating, it’s probably too late. Treatment would be prohibitively expensive, and extremely painful and stressful for the cat, with a very very low success rate (if they do live longer because of it, it won’t be a happy life).

Unfortunately, we didn’t realise in time, and he passed away.

Serafina is very healthy today, however, and while she misses her brother, she makes up for it by spending even more time with us.

Anyway, Serafina is a silly goose who likes putting herself directly in your path (and the path of moving furniture [it hasn’t hit her ever, so why should she bother moving?]), everytime she yawns she emits a burst of fishy cat breath, and as soon as my father starts speaking in his low voice she immediately needs to sit on his lap. And Heaven forBID you not let her in when she screams and scratches at your door!

Ombra was not so great at bathing himself, but Serafina loved to do it for him, and in return he ate more than his fair share of the food and took up way more space than needed, often splaying and wiggling around into silly positions and nearly pushing her off whatever they were sitting on, though Serafina would promptly sit on him instead. He aslo had a terrible love for crashing into the backs of people’s legs to really get them worked up just before the person you were calling picked up the phone, while Serafina only recently learned to use the scratching posts instead of the couch! Ombra was a very loud purrer, my friend could hear his motorcycle rumble through the landline. He also had a broken tail from before they were rescued from the streets, meaning the very tip was crooked.

So how much for my kitties?

(I hope the picture loads properly)

Ombra and Serafina the perfect pair! Ombra may only be here in spirit, but that's enough to sell! Get these two kitties for only $47.62!

[hairstevington]

flowers and ink (part 1)

Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington

Summary: Steve and Robin work at a flower shop together. One day, the pair decides to get matching tattoos at the place across the street. You can probably guess who their artist turns out to be. (requested by @thereindeerlady)

part two, part three, part four part five part six part seven part eight final part link to Ao3

Word Count: 2.6K

Warnings: This is just cute fluff, nothing too serious, modern day AU, Tattoo Artist!Eddie, platonic soulmates Steve and Robin, also I threw Bob Newby into the mix because I love him

A/N: I'm wrapping up the semester and am finally tackling my request list! Thank you for reading! :)

Robin applied to Flowers for All because a really pretty girl worked there and Robin needed a reason to go in and talk to her. 

She was hired, then the pretty girl promptly quit. Also, she was straight and engaged to a man. That was a huge bummer.

Still, the job stuck, and since they were down an employee…

“No,” Steve said when she brought it up.

“Please?” Robin begged. “Come on, you hate your job and it’s been forever since we worked together. It would be just like old times and -”

“Robin, we never used to get anything done when we worked together. We were terrible employees.”

That was true, but it did not deter Robin from her master plan. 

“Okay, well so far the only other applicant is the seventeen year old son of the owner who thinks the shop is actually a marijuana dispensary, and there’s no way I’m gonna work with that little twerp -”

“He didn’t take himself from the running when he found out you just sell literal flowers?” Steve asked, amused.

“I think he’s going to set up his own business in the back, honestly,” Robin sighed. “Please, I promise I’ll do everything and you can just hang out and -”

“Okay,” Steve said. 

“Wait, what?” 

Robin wasn’t anticipating he’d agree to it so quickly.

“I said okay. Sure. Fine. Where’s the application?” Steve took his phone from his pocket to find the Flowers for All website. He clicked on the “apply now” button and scrolled through the questions. 

There were basically no requirements. He just had to put in his name (Steve), education (high school), and any experience he’d had with flowers (none), and then boom, submitted. 

He got an email the next day to come in for an interview. Robin was assigned to be the interviewer.

He got the job. 

-

Eddie started as an apprentice for Ink About It when he was fresh out of high school. It was run by this dorky middle-aged man named Bob, who didn’t have any tattoos and initially seemed mismatched for the profession. Still, Bob was supportive and kind, and he let Eddie grow and thrive in the tattoo shop. He also happened to be amazing at working with clients and was a decent artist. Go figure. 

“Hey, Eds?” Bob asked as he tapped his knuckles on the door. Eddie was on his break, snacking on some chips while watching YouTube on his phone. 

“Yeah?”

“I was thinking of inviting Joyce’s son here sometime so he could see the place. He’s this great artist, and I think he’d love to meet you and see how we work here.”

“How old is he?” Eddie asked, his eyes still fixed to the screen. 

“He’s seventeen. Just about to graduate high school, can you believe it?”

Eddie didn’t really pay attention when Bob talked about his family. He probably should have listened more, but the man was just so dorky. 

“Okay,” Eddie agreed. He didn’t really want some kid in the shop snooping around, but it wasn’t really his decision. 

“Okay, great,” Bob replied with a smile. When he didn’t leave the room, Eddie knew he had more to say. He shut his phone off and turned to face his boss. “You see, uh. Will’s been having some trouble lately. Bullies and all that. He just came out, you know? And he’s a great kid. He’s so great, and some people at school are just - well, they’re bullies.”

Eddie didn’t really know where Bob was going with this. 

“That sucks,” Eddie acknowledged. “I remember when I came out, people said all kinds of shit - I mean, uh, stuff. Sorry.”

“That’s kinda why I’m telling you about it,” Bob said, shifting his weight on his feet nervously. “I think Will could really use someone on his side right now. Someone who really understands, you know?”

Ah. Eddie got it now. 

“Someone who’s gay,” he deduced. Bob knew that Eddie was gay, and he never cared or said anything about it, which was great. While he didn’t really want to be some motivational story about overcoming adversity in a hetero-normative society, he knew that Bob didn’t ask for much, and talking to a struggling kid seemed easy enough. “Okay, yeah. I’ll talk to him, if you want.”

“Great,” Bob said, breaking out into a smile. “You’re gonna love him. He’s a huge fan of that Dungeons and Dragons game, just like you.”

“Shit, really?” Eddie replied. “I mean - shoot. Sorry.”

“I never told you to stop cursing in front of me, Eddie,” Bob chuckled. “I know I may seem naïve and innocent, but I got into all kinds of trouble in my youth. You’re free to be whoever you want to be here, as long as you’re nice.”

He was just so wholesome it hurt. Eddie imagined the trouble Bob was referring to being something along the lines of sneaking a beer into a movie theater. It would probably break his heart to know some of the things Eddie had gotten into before he’d started working at this place. Maybe Wayne already told him, and he had just never said anything. Eddie certainly wasn’t gonna bring it up. 

“Hey Bob,” Eddie said. “Why did you start this job in the first place? Aren’t you this huge tech wizard?” Bob smiled warmly.

“Sure was. Bob the Brain, they used to call me. I still love a good puzzle, but life takes you to all kinds of places you don’t expect to go.”

“Yeah, but that seems like a pretty big career change,” Eddie continued. 

“Well, did you know this building used to be a RadioShack?” Bob asked. Eddie shook his head. “It was, and I used to work there. After it closed down, some artists tried to make it a tattoo parlor, but had no idea where to start. I stepped in as manager and they did the tattooing. I rebranded it, changed the name, and have been running it ever since. The rest of the story you’ve been around for.”

Bob was a great guy and a wonderful manager. He motivated Eddie to get his life together, and things had really leveled out for him just by having a stable job he enjoyed.

After their conversation, Eddie’s break was over, so he went back to work. He continued a design for a client who’d come in wanting a quarter sleeve, and then at 4pm he was scheduled to tattoo a bird on a guy’s shoulder blade. 

Overall, it was a normal day.

-

Robin knew every single plant and flower in the shop. She knew their names, their seasons, how to take care of them, and what they meant. 

She just happened to be really bad at keeping track of watering schedules, and tended to kill anything she touched. 

“Maybe I should work at a pet store,” Robin sighed, discouraged that the gardenias that had just come in had already wilted.

“What? Robin, why would you do that to the poor animals?” Steve replied, horrified. 

“Shut up, Harrington,” she snapped back. “Animals can tell me when they’re hungry.”

She looked sad, and Steve hated when she looked sad. 

“Aww, Robbie,” he said, jumping off the counter to put a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay. I can help. If you tell me what to do, I can do it.”

“Are you sure about that?” she asked. 

“Nope,” he responded confidently. “But they’re already dying, so it’s worth a shot, right?”

Steve actually turned out to be a natural at taking care of plants. He tended to be very good at looking after people, so it shouldn’t have been that surprising, but what was most shocking was how much he enjoyed it. Robin caught him talking to the flowers quite a bit. It was adorable. 

Ink About It was right across the street from Flowers for All. Steve and Robin stared at it every single shift through the front window. Neither of them remember who started the bit where they’d come up with weird matching tattoos they’d get with each other, but it became a staple every time they worked together. 

“Salt and pepper,” Robin greeted him as he walked in one day. 

“You’re pepper?”

“Obviously,” she responded with a smirk. They continued working, but it was a slow day. The ideas got progressively unhinged as the hours went by. 

“What about…” Robin wondered, her chin resting on her hand as she sat at the register. “You get my face and I get yours.” Steve chuckled. 

“Or we both get Harry Styles’ face.”

“Yes!” Robin’s face lit up as she laughed. “What about something flower themed?”

“Like what? A flower and a pot?” Steve proposed.

“Sure, you can be the pot,” she remarked. 

“What? Why am I the pot?”

“Because you smoke pot and I don’t,” she explained. Steve shook his head and scoffed. 

“Weak reason, Buckley, but fine. You’re the flower.” She smirked, pleased with herself, but then Steve added - “The flower is dead, though. For obvious reasons.”

“Steve!” She yelled, laughing. “Harsh, but fair.”

Their shift ended, but instead of going home, they went to the bar next door. They continued the bit until they were tipsy, and ended up arguing over who would be Bert and who would be Ernie. It got kind of heated. 

“Whatever!” Robin huffed, throwing her arms up. “It doesn’t matter, because you know I hate puppets. We’re not getting Bert and Ernie tattoos.”

“You’re acting like we’re actually going to do this,” Steve said as he sipped his beer. 

“I mean, if we find something we like, why not?”

“Why not?” Steve echoed. At first, he was going to give her all the reasons he could think of why they shouldn’t get tattoos together, but then he realized he didn’t have any reasons. “Uh, I guess you’re right. Okay, so no Bert and Ernie. What about Frog and Toad?”

“Are you just going through all the queer-coded best friends in children’s media, Steve?”

“Basically, yeah,” he replied, smirking. “Fuck, I’m Toad aren’t I?”

“I’m glad you said it and not me,” Robin replied. They sat in silence for a moment, coming to the same conclusion. 

“Uhh, so maybe that’s - Like, maybe that’s not such a bad idea,” Steve said. “Am I just buzzed, or -”

“No, I’m right there with you,” Robin responded. Of course she was, she always was. 

Before they knew it, they were stumbling towards Ink About It.

-

Eddie had just wrapped up his final appointment and was quietly working on other designs. Bob had left for the day, and sometimes Eddie stayed late just because it was a quiet place to be. 

It became less of a quiet place to work when two tipsy idiots stumbled in. 

“Hello!” The man greeted Eddie. “We would like tattoos, please!”

“Okay?” Eddie replied, confused. 

“He wants Toad and I want Frog. You know, from Frog and Toad are Friends?” The woman said. “Can you do that?” Eddie eyed them both and did his best to refrain from rolling his eyes.

“I can do whatever, pretty much,” Eddie replied. “Except, uh - I mean, do either of you have tattoos?” The pair shook their heads. “Do you know where you want them?”

“We didn’t get that far,” the man responded, prompting both of them to giggle.

“Right, okay,” Eddie said. “So, since you’ve clearly been drinking and this is your first tattoo, I’m gonna say it’s a no-go. Think about it, and come back tomorrow if you’re still interested.”

This kind of thing happened every so often, so Eddie was used to it. People never came back. They always came to their senses once they sobered up, and Eddie would never see them again. He figured it would be the same for these two. 

It wasn’t. They showed up again the next day. 

-

“We’ve thought about it!” The woman said as she walked into the shop. She dug into her bag and pulled out a picture. “This is what we want. Inside of the ankle.”

“Wow,” Eddie said as he looked at what they’d chosen, impressed. “I really didn’t expect you’d wanna go through with this.”

“Why wouldn’t we?” the man argued. “It’s an amazing idea.”

“Yeah,” the woman agreed. “And work’s been slow, and we’re bored, and this is not even close to the wildest thing we’ve done together.”

Eddie didn’t find spontaneous tattoos to be that wild in the first place. He was covered in them, and most of them were on-the-fly. Once you have a few, it gets easier and easier to add more. 

“Right,” Eddie said, wondering what the other wild things they’d done together were. He wondered if it was some sort of innuendo, like they were the kind of couple that secretly went to BDSM clubs or something like that. “Well, lucky for you, it's slow here today, too. Shall we?"

Eddie had them fill out paperwork while he got the stencil ready. He had adjusted their reference picture a little bit just to add his own flair, and after they approved it they were basically ready to go. It turned out their names were Steve and Robin. 

Eddie thought that Steve was kind of a stupid name, and didn’t match the pretty boy associated with it whatsoever. 

They didn’t even seem that nervous, which was baffling. Eddie figured there must be more to them than he had originally assumed. They were also a lot less annoying when they were sober. 

“So, who’s first?” Eddie asked, gesturing to the chair. 

“I’ll go,” Steve answered, raising his hand. Eddie put the stencil on his ankle and got final approval before they got started. 

“You ready?” Eddie asked, holding the tattoo needle in his hand. He waited for Steve to back out, but he nodded instead. “Okay. It’s gonna sting a little.”

“I have a pretty high pain tolerance,” Steve replied. Eddie tried to hide the smirk on his face. He’d heard that line before, many times. 

Eddie put the needle to the skin, and Steve didn’t so much as blink. Huh. Well, okay then.

Tattooing someone naturally involves a lack of personal space. It never bothered Eddie, because he tended to not think about personal space at any given moment, but some clients were a bit more hesitant than others. Ankle tats were thankfully not as intense as a rib or hip placements, but it did mean Eddie had to have a stranger’s foot close to his face, which wasn’t amazing. 

He wasn’t a foot guy. The man attached to the foot, however…

Eddie couldn’t help it. Steve was gorgeous. He also was charismatic, which was a quality that Eddie always appreciated and was attracted to. Steve chatted with Eddie during the whole 45 minutes he was being tattooed, and even made Eddie laugh a couple times.

Robin started to show her anxiety the moment it was her turn. 

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” Steve reminded her. 

“Uh, of course I do!” she retorted. “This was my idea. You think I’m just going to let you have a loan toad on your ankle?” Steve and Eddie laughed. 

“I don’t mind. It came out pretty badass, thanks to Eddie.” Eddie smirked at the compliment. 

“If you can do it, I can do it. Come on, Eddie, let’s do this.”

She was shaking a little at first, so Steve pulled up a chair and held her hand. He asked her to start naming all the flowers they sold, and she did so rapidly. Eddie hadn’t heard of a lot of the plants she’d listed, and the list was unending. Ten minutes in, she eased into the process, and the rest went by without a hitch. 

Steve and Robin were really cute together. Eddie wasn't sure how long they'd been dating, but he wished them the best.

Steve left a sizable tip - like, an absurdly high tip - and then they were off. 

This time, Eddie was sure that would be the last he’d see of them. 

It wasn’t. 

(part 2)

__________________________

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[ladykailitha]

Can Anybody See Me? Part 8

Now we’re getting to the reason behind the title.

On the tagging, I HAVE REACHED MY HARD AND FAST LIMIT OF 50. I love the response this story has gotten. I do. I love you all. I love every reply, like, and reblog. It brings me so much joy, you don’t even know. But tagging is hard for my ADHD brain. I have gone up from 20 to 30 and finally 50 as my system improved but I think if I do any more than that I’ll go insane. So any future tagging requests will be ignored. Sorry.

The best way to keep update on these stories is follow me and set me on notifications. I rarely do a lot of reblogging these days (too busy churning out stories like whoa), so more often then not a post will be a story. I try to post at least once a day (some times twice if I’m trying to rush through the posting a bit like I did to make sure the Valentine fic got out in time without making people wait on Vamp!Eddie), just never at set time.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

*

When Eddie heard how Gethin had done it, he was starting wonder who the smart twin was, because it was brilliant.

The chemicals for developing film were kept in Miss Chen’s room and he took some quick pictures of Steve’s piece before promptly spilling some of the chemicals that the teacher had in her class room all over it.

It ATE the paper. Gethin had tried to mop it up before it got too bad. But alas, it was too late.

“Mr Hughes!” Miss Chen protested. “Please be more careful next time!”

Gethin apologize profusely. He begged her to give the poor student whose piece he had just destroyed an extra week to finish the project, because he had been soooo careless.

She agreed.

He ran out of her class with the chemicals he needed to develop the film in his camera.

Pictures he slipped into Eddie’s locker during lunch.

*

After school Eddie waited until the halls were empty before he opened his locker. He knelt down to pick them up and blinked. Steve was really good. The composition was sound and colors were great.

The page wasn’t even that scary. It was just of this boy walking up to a house in the dead of night. In one of the panels you could almost make out something watching the boy, but it was the vague sense of unease made it so you could tell it was going be a horror comic. It was good. And suddenly Eddie was pissed at Miss Chen for calling Steve out for this.

Especially since Eddie’s own comic was about slaying a dragon.

He shoved the pictures back into his backpack and slammed the locker shut.

“Well what have we got here?” a voice said from behind him.

Shit.

Eddie turned around slowly. There was Tommy H, Billy, and Kyle, standing there with their arms crossed.

“Hey, boys,” he said with a grin. “You looking to buy? I’ve got about four kilos.”

Tommy and Kyle looked at each other, nervously. They didn’t want to antagonize their drug dealer.

Billy ran his tongue over his teeth thoughtfully. “I just wanted to talk. I’ve been seeing Harrington hanging around you freaks lately and wanted to know why?”

Eddie folded his arms. “I get you’re new here, Hargrove, but your friends should have told you: I’m the king of picking up lost sheep. I like bringing people into my fold that the rest of this school has deemed outcasts. Steve Harrington has become one of those. And how could I resist such a tempting treat as the former king of Hawkins High?”

“You leave him the fuck alone, you hear me?” Billy growled.

“Or what?” Eddie asked. “You’ll do me like you did him? And then where will you get your weed? Because if you do I will make sure that I don’t sell to you or any of your little friends.” He wagged his finger as he indicated to Tommy and Kyle. “I’ll fucking cut off the entire basketball team. Don’t think I won’t. How long do you think you’ll be king then, Hargrove? When suddenly everyone’s supply dries up because you fucked with me?”

Kyle tugged on Billy’s arm. “Come on, man. Whatever your beef with Harrington is, it’s not worth this.”

Tommy just stood there looking Eddie in the eye.

“So what’s it going to be, Hagen?” Eddie asked. “You going to side with King Jackass here and alienate the whole fucking basketball team because you’ve got a hard on for Harrington? Or are you going to the smart thing and walk away?”

Tommy grabbed Billy’s other arm. “Let’s go.”

Billy wrenched his arms from both of them and stalked off.

“Run along, Tommy,” Eddie said making a shooing motion with his hands. “Go suck Hargrove’s dick.”

Tommy made to swing at Eddie, but Kyle stopped him. “Don’t do it, dude. He’s trying to get a rise out of you.”

Eddie grinned. He blew a kiss at Tommy and then walked off, a nervous energy humming in his veins.

He walked out to his van and found Steve waiting for him. Eddie smirked.

“You waiting for me, big boy?” he asked walking up to the other boy.

“I wanted to thank you for what you did about my art project,” Steve explained. “And then I saw Billy and Tommy and I got worried.”

Eddie patted his cheek. “You’re sweet, but I told you, I’m immune.”

Steve rolled his eyes.

“Plus, pretty boy,” Eddie said. “You won’t have to worry about that lot anymore. They came after me and I set them straight. If they want to keep buying weed, either they’ve got find someone new or leave you the hell alone.”

Steve sighed in relief. “So everything’s cool?”

“Cool as can be,” Eddie agreed. He opened the door and hopped into the van. “And I didn’t do anything to your project, Stevie.”

He saluted Steve and drove off, leaving behind a very confused, but very happy Steve Harrington.

*

Steve kept his eye on Tommy and Billy but by the end of the week there was no doubt that whatever Eddie had said them, made them back off.

“Hey, Steve,” Gareth said, nonchalant. “Did you know that there chemicals used in the art department for all sorts art related shit that can dissolve paper?”

Steve cocked an eyebrow at him. “You don’t say.”  

“Didn’t you now,” Brian said with a grin, “Gareth’s brother is a big photography nerd.”

“Oh, he must know Jonathan Byers, then,” Steve said, deliberately not taking their bait.

Gareth cocked his head to the side and hummed. “Maybe not. Different grades. But still could do, I suppose.”

Steve grinned. “Miss Chen did say it was a photography student that ruined my comic, maybe I should go thank Jonathan.” He winked at them and they burst out laughing.

Which was actually what Steve thought had happened when Eddie denied all knowledge of what happened. That Jonathan had recognized the scene of Steve on his way to Jonathan’s house and messed it up, worried Steve might get in trouble with the government.

But Gethin doing it made Steve sigh in relief. He already owe his life to Jonathan, owing him for the art project, too? That was too much for even Steve’s wounded pride.

Steve had already fobbed Nancy off earlier in the week because Jonathan had snitched.

She was practically screaming about being so careless. As if Steve would make the characters look like them. He had asked her if she had seen it herself and when she admitted she hadn’t, Steve told her to back off. Which lo and behold, she actually did.

“It’s bullshit Miss Chen even said anything,” Eddie growled. “It’s of this boy walking up to a house at night. It could’ve been of a boy going to pick up a girl on a date, but because Steve used muted tones and creepy vibes, she decided it was sad or some shit and threatened to call Steve’s parents.”

The other three boys looked at each other. “That is bullshit,” they all agreed.

Steve shrugged. “I changed to be about a lost little girl who connects with a social recluse and they become a family. If she gives me shit about that one, I’ll kindly let Chief Hopper know that Miss Chen thinks him and his adopted daughter’s story is toooo depressing for school.”

“I like the way you think,” Jeff said with a cackle.

Steve grinned. Silence descended as the boys ate their lunch. As they were packing up, he casually dropped a bomb on them.

“Miss Lucy wants me to try out for the school musical...”

“No way, dude!” Eddie said. Miss Lucy was the drama teacher. Her last name was one of those that looked easy on paper but really wasn’t. So she had all her students call her by her first name.

“I thought you were new to the whole drama thing,” Brian said.

“I am but she seems to think I’m good enough to tryout,” Steve said with a shrug.

“Are you going to do it?” Eddie asked in all seriousness.

Steve bit his lip. “I want to but I don’t want people to get mad at me if I do a get a part.”

Gareth’s brow furrowed. “Why would they be mad at you?”

Steve shrugged again. “That a newbie like me is taking away a roll from one of the more seasoned kids?”

“If that’s the case,” Jeff said, “then fuck them. You didn’t know you had a talent for it.”

Steve smiled warmly at them. “Thanks, guys.”

Eddie clapped him on the back. “You go get ‘em, tiger!”

Steve laughed. “Yeah, okay.”

He felt the warmth from where Eddie touched his back all day long. And he carried that feeling all the way through his audition.

*

“You are such chicken shit,” Eddie told Steve. The results were back for call backs and he was too afraid to look.

“I know, I know,” Steve murmured. “But I would rather walk through an entire pack of demodogs then look at that stupid piece of paper.”

“What the fuck is a demodog?”

Steve blinked. “Something the kids made up for their D&D campaign.” Which was true. Mostly.

“Uh-huh,” Eddie said, licking his lips. “You owe big time for this.”

“I’ll buy you dinner,” Steve promised.

“And it better be somewhere nice!” Eddie called back over his shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve grumbled.

Within seconds Eddie came flouncing back. “Bad news, Stevie...”

“I didn’t get called back?” Steve asked.

Eddie cackled. “You got called back for Charles Thomson. You’re going up against Kyle Carver.”

“Fuck.”

“Language, Mr Harrington,” Mr Hall, one of the swim coaches murmured as he walked by.

“Sorry, coach,” Steve said automatically. He turned back to Eddie. “He’s going to get it, isn’t he?”

“Kyle?” Eddie asked. Steve nodded. “Probably. Though it would be a serious miscarriage of justice if he does.”

Steve grinned. “Good thing you’re a fan of those. Maybe you start a letter campaign against bias casting in school plays.”

Eddie looked around to make sure there weren’t any teachers. “Fuck off, Harrington.”

Steve kissed his nose and ran off giggling. “See you later, Munson.”

Eddie stood in the hall being jostled by other students as he thoughtfully rubbed his nose.

*

Steve watched Kyle audition from the audience and was so sure Kyle had it in the bag. Until he opened his mouth to sing and what came out of his mouth was horribly off key.

“Mr Carver, are you all right?” Miss Lucy asked.

Kyle nodded and tried again. This time it was better, but no where near it was when he auditioned the first time.

“I must be coming down with a cold,” Kyle excused.

Miss Lucy frowned. “Your turn, Mr Harrington.”

Steve took a deep breath and let it out slow, like Eddie had taught him. He stepped up to the stage and turned around.

“You know, sometimes I think the general is speaking to me,” Steve recited his lines, his voice breaking on the last word. And then he used the scene to launch into the singing part of his audition.

Miss Lucy was humming and nodding as Steve finished up the song.

“Thank you, Mr Harrington,” Miss Lucy said. “Results will be posted on the drama room door tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Miss Lucy,” Steve said.

As he passed Kyle the boy hissed, “Suck up.”

Steve just shrugged. “Or maybe it’s just polite to thank someone for their time.” 

Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15  Part 16  Part 17 Part 18  Part 19  Part 20  Part 21

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[dearestgojo]

Feel It

Aki x Camgirl reader

A/n: This is for my Cyberpunk Collab. Set in a futuristic future where everyone has an sd slot behind their ears.

Warnings: 18+. Camgirl reader. Aki and reader are friends. Technology that allows you to feel what is happening. Handjob. Oral m receiving. Cowgirl. Riding. Praise (good boy). Dubcon/noncon (Aki watching reader's content without her being aware). Mentions of drugs. There's a death but it's a background character. Mentions of addiction. Reader has blue nips and nip piercings. "Creampie".

Wc: 3.5k | CSM Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Aki is tired. Absolutely and utterly tired. 

The weight of the day pushes down on his shoulders, the pressure digging into his shoulder blades. His own skin irritates him as he moves past the threshold of his apartment, taking off his shoes, and placing them neatly near the entry, before dragging his feet further in. He shakes his work jacket and tie off, throwing them over the back of his couch to use tomorrow, pulling out the half-empty box of cigarettes, and heading out towards the balcony.

The city buzzes with life, screens flashing all around him, the low buzz of the vehicles traveling up from down below along with the voices of people. Bright lights block out the shining stars above, the moon itself barely visible through the tall buildings and outshined by the city lights. 

Sighing heavily, he releases the smoke, watching as it curls into the air. He reaches up to let his hair loose, ready to finish the cigarette and shower, his hand sliding against the two slots found at the nape of his neck behind his ear. Two-inch-sized slots made for small chips that could range from any type of content, from information to drugs-more commonly known as vds- to the life of someone. All of these had different formats and uses; anything information related would appear on the thin lens that covered the eyes as if on a computer without hindering one's sight. And vds would mess with the nervous system once they were slipped in allowing the person to experience a high without the need for physical drugs. The idea had been to prevent overdoses and addiction, but when people started becoming addicted to them they were pulled from the market, yet you could find a few dealers selling them and people still entering a coma-like state caused by overuse. But vds also weren't the only thing people got addicted to.

Today, for example, Aki had seen a man's dead body pulled from his single-room apartment, his skin dyed with the blue-green side effect of chrome addiction, where his body mods were attached, and his room riddled with hundreds of momentos of the old ones. Aki thought they should consider themselves to have found him dead and not entering cyberpsychosis. There had also been a woman who was found out on the streets delirious, not able to tell if she was living her own life or a braindance. With his line of work, Aki had a first view of just how dangerous things had become, but there were people he wanted to protect.

And as if sensing his state of mind, in the corner of his screen on the lens, he gets a small phone icon with your name on the side. Aki answers promptly, twisting the cigarette on the ashtray he set up outside, before walking back in, "Hello?"

"Oh good, you answered, I thought you might still be at work, with the cyberpsycho thing going on right now," you reply, the sound of the news traveling through the phone.

Aki shakes his head, "No, I left just as they got the call, Himeno's there though. Why are you calling though?" He glances at the clock on the nightstand beside his bed, kicking his shoes off. It's seven thirty on a Friday night, and he never stayed late on Fridays, never wanting to miss the one thing he looked forward to every week. The one guilty pleasure that he never told anyone about. Not even you, fearing it would ruin the friendship you two had built.

He hadn't meant to come across it, never thought he'd indulge in such pleasures, but he had been pent up for several weeks. And working late hours six days a week didn't allow him to find a hook-up, and Himeno, who he'd had a previous agreement with, had just been promoted. Which meant their arrangement had recently ended. Normal porn was not enough to subside the need for release, and the stress of it was starting to affect him at work. And then Kishibe approached him teasing him for letting his needs affect his work ethic, before handing him a small piece of paper with the name of a device, where he could buy it, the price, a website, and a username. 

Aki had thrown the piece of paper into his bedside drawer, not seeing why he would need it. Thinking he'd come across something sooner or later that would help him destress. That was until he blew up on one of the newer hires, and he found himself at a sex shop store and taking a small box home, that contained a fleshlight, a chip, instructions, and a headset that curved over the back of his head and rested on his ears. He then decide to explore the site Kishibe had given him, slipped the chip in, and created an account. Searched the username, and stopped breathing.

You covered the entirety of his view. Your soft smile was staring back at him while you spoke cliche lines and moved sensually before his eyes. Until that moment, Aki had no idea this was the side job you were always referring to that left you good money. His stomach had twisted, and he had half a mind to call Kishibe and give him an earful, but the man hadn't known that Aki knew you. The older man didn't know that the girl on the screen, that was settling on all fours and resting her head on his thigh as her hand glided up his cock, had been Aki's childhood friend and crush.

He had logged out rather quickly and shoved everything he had bought under his bed. His cheeks burning and the image of you in pink lingerie and knee-highs burned into his brain. An image he still saw every time he saw or heard you speak. A picture that was so engraved in his mind that he came back a week later. An image he could see clearly right now as you spoke to him.

"I was calling to see if I had left my bracelet there, I kind of needed it this weekend."

Aki glances around him, spotting a small golden chain hanging over the edge of one of his bedroom lamps. "Can't say that I have," he replies, "Why do you need it? Have a date or something?" He can already hear the excuse you'd use, the bracelet you were speaking of was a gift from one of your viewers. Specifically a gift from him. A gift he liked to see you wear in your videos.

"Mmh, something like that. If you find it please let me know," he glances at the clock, ten till eight, "I have some things to do."

Aki hums, settling on his bed, and reaching into the drawer by his bed, "Okay. Call me if you need anything."

Your voice comes through the other side, sweet and melodic, "I will. I really have to go now. Bye, I'll see you soon."

The call ends, and Aki checks his clock once more before pulling up the site Kishibe had given him, logging in, and clicking on your user name. He reaches back, sliding his hair to the side, slowly slipping in the chip, that connects to the fleshlight that rests near his thigh. He starts to settle on the bed, pulling off his clothes until he is bare and sliding the headset resting on his ears, and the minutes slowly tick by. He grabs the toy and his bottle of lube, applying a small amount to it, a part of the routine he started all those weeks ago when he first discovered you did this.

The display on his lens changes; your username, and a countdown appear. Along with instructions to slide the fleshlight down his length. He isn't hard yet, cock flaccid in his hand as he slides the toy down his length, a hiss escaping his lips from the coolness of the lube. 

The screen switches again, and you appear in front of him. Hair curled and clipped out of your face by two gold hair clips, your make-up freshly done, and in a navy blue lingerie set a black belt garter. Your breasts are accentuated and brought out by the push-up bra, drawing Aki's attention away from your smiling face, the melodious sound of your voice helping relax into his mattress. 

"Hi, I'm so happy to be seeing you again. It's been a while," you jut your lip out, sliding your hand up his thighs. You do this all the time, make it feel as if it's only you and whoever is on the other side of the screen, never acknowledging that it's you and hundreds of others, "I've missed you." Aki feels his heart hammering against his ribs, the inside of his mouth filling with salvia. "Before you get started though, I'd like to remind you to make sure your device is compatible with mine. You can find this information in the right top left corner." 

Aki doesn't bother checking, knowing that the device worked well with whatever one you had, though how he was able to feel every touch still confused him. His blue eyes focused on you and the hand running up his thigh, and the background behind you. He wonders if you're recording this in the extra room of your apartment you keep closed and if all it actually looks like this inside, or if you have some type of filter to keep your location hidden. Though it wouldn't be hard for someone who frequents your lives to recognize you out on the street with your face fully visible. It wouldn't be hard for one of your viewers to start harassing you if they recognize you. The thought makes Aki's stomach burn and twist, but all of that anger and thoughts are pushed to the back of his head when the feeling of your hand wraps around the base of his cock, a moan falling from his lips., hips moving up into the fleshlight. You've barely done anything and he's growing hard, dick stiffening inside the toy as the sensation of your soft touches travels up his spine. He looks down to watch your hand glide up and down his length, hand twisting, the tips of your fingers barely touching. He twitches in your hand, a giggle falling from your lips.

"Wow, someone's eager today. Be a good boy for me and I'll give you a special treat. Just a couple of more minutes and we can get started," your eyes fall out of focus, glancing beyond him, probably at the screen to your equipment. The tip of your tongue pokes out between your lips, weight shifting so your legs rest between his, pressed together tightly. Your hand continues to move along his dick, fingers paying extra close attention to the head, "Okay, it looks like we can get started. I have a special treat planned for you today, but you have to be good, like really good, in order to get it. Can you do that for me?"

Aki's head moves up and down, a strangled "Yes," falling from his lips, watching a bright smile spread on your lips.

"Okay good," you huff, the warmth of your hand leaving his member, reaching behind you to undo the hooks of your bra, giggling as the straps fall off your shoulders, "I also have a surprise for you." 

Aki's eyes are glued to your breasts, the cold of your room causing your nipples to harden and draw his attention to the small rod sticking out of either one. More importantly to their new color. Highlighting the silver of your new piercings is a halo of dark blue, that sticks out against your skin. The color darkens closer to the center of the areola, and a lighter blue on the outside. You press your arms together, pushing your boobs against one another and out further, forcing him to focus on the hard blue buds. 

Aki wonders when you had time to do this. When between coming over to his house, going to work, and filming throughout the week, did you find time to dye and pierce your pretty little nipples? The inside of his mouth waters as he thinks that you've been hanging around him like this and he hadn't even noticed. 

"I hope you like it," you pout, running your hands down from your neck to play with your breasts. God, he wishes he could wrap his lips around the perked buds and get a taste of you. But technology could only allow him so much, such as feeling your wet hot cunt wrapped around him, and the feather touches on his chest when you bounced on the toy that allowed him to feel you. 

You lean forward, reaching behind you to slide your hand on his cock, grinning down at him, "Want to get a closer look?" Your breasts are mere inches from his face, the hard buds almost brushing on the bridge of his nose. He swallows down hard as he stares at them, running his tongue on his bottom lip, whimpering when you pinch the head of his cock. "You know I thought it would hurt more when they did it, but I barely felt anything, just a small pinch like that," you giggle, sitting back up, settling back between his legs on your stomach. Your hand reaches up to touch his dick again, pushing against the head with your thumb, pulling him toward your mouth. 

You run your tongue from the base up to the head, hand following behind. Lips wrapping around the head while your hand falls back down and up, the tip of your tongue licking at his slit. A low hum vibrates from the back of your tongue, sending small jolts down his length. You pull back smiling, your eyes glazed over and filled with lust.

"I wish you were here," you sigh, tilting your head down to take one of his balls in your lips, sucking gently on, Aki letting out a broken moan as your warm tongue licks at it."That way I could see how hard you really are and feel your big fat cock stretch my little cunt and mouth for real. Lick your big cum filled balls," you giggle, licking your way back up and pushing him fully into your hot mouth with no warning.

Aki cries out, eyes squeezed shut, feeling the head of his cock bump against the back of your throat. You gag around him, the corners of your eyes stained with tears before you pull back until only the head is between your lips. You take in a deep breath and push your head down again, slowly setting a rhythm that feels like his fucking your throat.

The fleshlight around his cock moves to the movements of your mouth and constricts around the girth when you hollow your cheeks. Warmth spreads along the length of his dick while he receives a virtual blowjob from you, broken whimpers falling from his lips, not expecting it to feel so real. His precum is spread along the shaft whenever your pullback, a string of spit connected to your lips, a loud slurp echoing in his ears as his chest rises and falls. You grin up at him, head resting on his thigh, your hand gliding up and down. 

"I didn't expect you to be this hard," you giggle, your eyes teary and lips swollen. You stick out your tongue and tap the tip against it three times before taking him back into your mouth, your hands resting on his thighs. The inside of your mouth is warm and slick, spit coating the corners of your lips. Your teeth graze his shaft as you move your head up and down. He feels you gag every so often, salvia spilling from the corners of your mouth, and breathing growing heavier. The muscles of his stomach become taunt, his release curling and growing in the pit of his belly.

He lets out whimpers and moans, that echo off the walls of his bedroom, and travel down the hall. If he didn't live alone or occupy the middle room, he'd make an effort to be quieter. He doesn't think he'd succeed with the feeling of your warm mouth wrapped around him, the tip hitting the back of your throat, but he'd still make an effort to keep the embarrassing moans down. 

You pull off of him with a pop, a whine falling from his lips. He was close to cumming, close to falling apart at the seams when you stopped. A string of spit connecting your lips to his swollen cock. You're smiling at him as you come back up, resting on your knees, slurping the string into your mouth, "So good for me, such a good boy." 

He swallows down when you rest your thighs on either side of him, his hands automatically moving to rest on your thighs. Aki's still unaccustomed to the warmth under his palms, the feel of your soft skin. It's as if he were actually in the room with you, and not all by himself in his one-bedroom apartment, neon city lights reflected on the sheen that coated his chest.  

You reach behind you, hand wrapping around his cock, and gliding the head along your wet folds. Aki hisses, cock pulsing inside the fleshlight, and he looks up at your lust-filled gaze, your lip caught between your teeth. 

"You've been such a good boy for me tonight. Letting me lick your big fat cock. I think you deserve a special treat." You lean forward, your lips inches away from his, he can feel the warmth of your breath when you whisper, "How about I let you cum in me?"

He knows it's fake. He knows that no matter what happened, even if you had pulled the dildo on your side at the last second, he would have ended up cumming inside the fleshlight. But hearing you say it. Hearing you give him permission to release inside of you has him growing harder, abs tensing underneath your touch, that isn't actually there, and his breath hitching.

You both let out moans when you sink down, your thighs splayed out on top of his, knees bent back making your feet rest near his knees. "So big," you mutter, out of breath, chest rising and falling, "want to feel you cum in me."

"Want to come in you," Aki mumbles into the empty room, wishing you were here in flesh and bone. The warm feeling of the fleshlight couldn't compare to what your actual cunt would feel like. He wanted to be able to feel your actual hot wet cunt wrapped around him and not a simulation of what you supposedly feel like.

Allowing yourself a moment to adjust before you start to move your hips up a down, pace slow and steady at first. You pause and circle your hips every so often, your clit rubbing against his navel. Your hands glide down your body, playing with your pierced nipples for a moment before one hand comes down to rest on his chest while the other circles your swollen clit. 

"Feel so, good. Goin' to cum soon," you breathe out, looking down at him while your hips move up and down, "Come with me, please. Come in me."

His hips start to thrust up into the fleshlight in sync with your movements. Feeling the toy clench around him. The sound of your wet cunt fills his ears as he moves up into the toy. Both of you chasing your releases now. 

Aki comes first, releasing into the fleshlight. His entire body shaking as spurt and spurt of his semen fill the toy - it'd worry about the hassle of cleaning it later - curses and your name falling from your lips. You follow after, your hips never stop moving, and pornographic moans fall from your lips before you collapse on top.

Your body feels warm on top of his, piercings pressed against his chest cool. The weight of your body brings him a sort of comfort when he starts to feel guilty as the fleshlight pulses around him, his cum falling out from the edges. A few minutes pass before you sit back up, pulling out the simulation of his dick on your side.

You smile at the screen, running your tongue over your swollen bottom lip, "Thank you for joining me today. I hope we can see each other at the same time next week." 

The stream ends and Aki is left laying on his bed, chest rising and falling as he stares up at the ceiling. The guilt starts to settle in his stomach. There would be a day when he would have to tell you that he knew about your side job. That he had seen a part of you that you hadn't meant for him to see, and had enjoyed watching you. But that wasn't today, or tomorrow, or the day after. In fact, he didn't know when that day would be, but just as he had discovered yours, you would discover his.

© Copyright 2023. Dearestgojo. All rights reserved.

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