#but even those now leave a bit of a sour taste in my mouth !

[transgaysex]

i used to rlly enjoy the try guys and in a way its a good thing that they changed their whole thang but like. it kinda sucks lol

[mariasont]

Tie a Tie - S.R

a/n: i'm a slut for a good tie

masterlist

₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: spencer reid x bimbo!receptionist!reader

summary: you ask spencer to teach you how to tie a tie

warnings: cuties being cute!

wc: 1.2k

"How do you tie a tie?" 

The question and the voice attached to it made Spencer do a double take, his pencil pausing mid-stroke. He directed he gaze upward, and there you were. Beside his desk. Looking angelic as ever.

Today, your hair was embellished with ribbons, pretty pink bows tied neatly above your two braids. It was cute.

You hardly visited at his desk, in fact, this might be the first time. He had always been the one to seek you out at your receptionist desk.

He realized the lapse in conversation had gone on longer than what social norms dictate. He cleared his throat and reached up to rub his neck, offering you sheepish yet attentive look. 

"Do I have something on my face?" The question came with an uncharacteristic frown that didn't suit you. A shimmering nail reached up, brushing your cheek as he fought the urge to replace your hand with his.

"No, no sorry," he assured quickly, a sense of equilibrium returning as your mouth flipped into a bright smile. "Just--, you want to know how to tie a tie?"

His intention wasn't to question you, but he was curious. What did you need to know how to tie a tie for? The answer seemed clear, yet unwelcome, as he begrudgingly considered the possibility of a significant other in your life, leaving a sour taste in his mouth.

"Yes," you affirmed, nodding like one of those dashboard bobbleheads, sending your ribbons dancing. "There's this outfit on Pinterest that I wanted to recreate, but it needs a tie, and well, I immediately thought of you, Dr. Reid. You're the tie expert, after all. I know you're super busy, so it's totally okay if now isn't a good time, but maybe you could text me? Or write it down, or--" 

The tension dissipated from his frame, and he interjected with a soft smile. "Yeah, no problem at all. I'll teach you," he said, rising to grab an empty chair. He placed it opposite his, motioning for you to take a seat. "And please, It's Spencer."

He doesn't know how many times he's told you that Dr. Reid sounded too formal coming from you. 

"Oh, right, Spencer." They way his name rolled off your tongue sent a wave of warmth through him. You bit your lip, crossing one leg over the other, the tip of your kitten heel brushing his calve in the process. "Thank you so much. I tried to watch YouTube tutorials, but it wasn't really working out."

"It's no problem," he said, trying to keep his cool as his surveyed the vacant office, immensely grateful the team was out on a case, and he was left behind to work on documents. 

It wasn't that he was embarrassed by you, he would be an idiot to feel that way. He was embarrassed by how utterly out of control he felt around you. "Uh, here--"

His hands moved with practiced ease, a brief hesitation passing before he placed it around your neck. Your smile was disarming, compelling him to avert his gaze to prevent any impulsive actions. Gently, he swept your hair aside at the nape of your neck, careful not to entangle it with the fabric.

Spencer's fingers stalled, suspended over the smooth silk encircling you. The awareness of your focused gaze was palpable, almost tangible.

"Okay," he started, his tone even despite the butterflies attacking at his stomach. "The first thing you need to do is cross the long end over the short end, like this."

He illustrated the motion, his hands lightly skimming over your collarbone, eliciting a soft giggle from the unexpected tickle.

"Like this?" you repeated, your tongue making a brief appearance against your pink stained lips, trying to follow his lead.

"Exactly," he confirmed with a nod, smile inching across his face. "Now you bring the long end up through the loop around your neck."

His touch was light on the fabric, his fingertips just grazing the skin below your ear, a reaction visible in the slight shiver that traveled over you, goosebumps taking over. 

You watched his every move, your head tilting to the side, a lock of hair falling into your face. "And then?"

"Now, you fold it down through the knot you've just made." Spencer's voice was soft, almost a whisper, as he focused on the task at hand. "Pull it all the way though, and then adjust the tightness by holding the short end and sliding the knot up."

With his guidance, you managed to complete the knot. "I did it!"

The excitement in your eyes was infectious, and he felt the rosy hue take over his face, a blush he couldn't contain at the sight of you. His laughter spilled out in response.

"You're a quick learner." His hands remained on the tie, a touch too long, maybe. 

The intrusive ring of his phone fractured the moment, like a glass dropping on hard ground. He glanced at the caller ID--Hotch, of course--and sighed.

"Sorry, I have to take this."

"It's okay. Thank you for the help, Spencer."

--

Spencer almost died the moment you entered the bullpen the next morning, almost toppling over and dying of asphyxiation because of how easily you took his breath away.

There you were, in what he could only deduce was the Pinterest inspired outfit, a pink tie neatly arranged around your neck, its tail slipped into the waistband of your skirt.

"Spencer, you forgot your tie yesterday," you called out, extending the forgotten piece of fabric with a smile.

A red akin to a ripe strawberry bloomed across Spencer's face as he watched Morgan and Prentiss freeze mid-step, exchanging knowing looks as they glanced between you two.

"Reid, what's this about a tie?" 

Of course, Morgan was butting in, because it just wouldn't be a normal day of work if he wasn't.

"It's not--We didn't--," he faltered, his eyes meeting yours, finding an innocent cluelessness to the implications around them. Opting to dismiss the others, he focused on you, taking the tie with hands that weren't quite steady. "I mean, thank you."

You simply beamed at him.

"Do you like my outfit?" you asked, doing a little twirl that made the hem of your skirt flare out. He had to avert his eyes, knowing that the way he was looking you over would certainly not be perceived as innocent. "I got your text with the instructions. It was so sweet because I definitely did not remember everything you said yesterday. It gets kind of confusing with all the steps."

He was momentarily lost for words. "It's... you look... amazing."

Spencer was still fumbling for words when you stepped closer, the soft scent of your perfume wrapping around him.

"Well, it's all thanks to you."

Before he could respond, your rose onto the balls of your feet and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek. It was quick, innocent, but it left his knees feeling like they might buckle

As you pulled away, his skin tingled where your lips had been, and he stood there, utterly dumbstruck, his face a canvas painted with various shades of pink.

Morgan stared at him, his eyebrows raised in silent question, but Spencer didn't care. For a short moment, he didn't care about anything else--not the case files, not the teasing of his colleagues, not the world outside. There was only the warmth on his cheek and the sudden lightness in his chest. 

He decided this was his new lucky tie. 

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 WICKED LOVE WILL LEAVE ME BLIND

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: dangerous games are played between you and dazai during one of the most important events of the year for the japanese underworld. you're never this risky, not when your reputation is on the line, but fuck being near him just seems draw out all of the worst in you.

(wordcount: 4.5k; ņsfw; fem!reader; port mafia member!reader, jealous!dazai, possessive!dazai, public sex, spitting, unprotected sex, gagging dazai w/your panties, switch!dazai, switch!reader. lmk if anything is missing!)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: WOOWWWWWWW u all can thank tumblr user mioblobby for this one, she sent in an ask 3 days ago and this consumed me so badly that i dropped all of my wips to write this. anyway, enjoy dazai & pmreader being absolute FREAKS in public

His gaze hasn’t left you once all night. You can feel it dark and heavy from where he’s leaning against a wall on the opposite side of the room, black coat hanging around his shoulders and a cold, unapproachable expression on his face, looking every bit the wraith people claim him to be. 

Chuuya is off somewhere to your side, smooth talking two of Mishima’s daughters, surely planning to end the night in one of their beds to get those loose lips moving about the meeting that their father had with Cao Xueqin of the Red Chamber two weeks ago, something he’s been unnervingly tight lipped about when Mori pried. 

You’re entertaining two of the younger members of Mishima’s upper echelon, Abe Kimifusa and Ibuse Masuji—they can’t be much older than you, early twenties max, and they’re delighted by the attention you’re giving them. Ibuse is half hanging off your shoulders, arm wrapped around you, too many drinks in as he leans in close and laughs at some comment Abe makes about one of their fellow executives. You smile idly as you listen, resting against him as you take in their words, trying to pretend to be engaged with the conversation to not give away how you’re hyper-focused on a certain black-haired executive in the distance. 

Usually, he would join you and Chuuya in your attempts to gather some easy intel on the Sun and Steel—that’s what he’s done the past year and a half, at least, targeting some of the older members of Mishima’s upper echelon who would sell half of their organs and their soul for a night with the untouchable Demon Prodigy. The thought leaves a bitter taste in your mouth now, knowing what he told you, but you still can’t help but be a little surprised that he’s not even trying to put up a facade of charm and wit, rather spending his time skulking in the shadows watching you, especially when his usual targets are so blatantly staring at him, waiting for him to make a move.

You think it’s hypocritical the way you’re so pleased over the fact that he’s not entertaining anyone tonight, because the thought of him letting any of those men drape themselves all over him like Ibuse currently is with you leaves a very sour taste in your mouth.

You also think that’s why you’re letting Ibuse take it as far as he has—to see Dazai get wound up about it. You don’t typically let people get touchy with you unless you plan on taking them to bed, and you have absolutely no intention of fucking Ibuse Masuji. He’s pretty enough with dark hair and a nice smile, but too stupid for your taste—maybe that’s a good thing though, if he’s already so loose-lipped now with only a few drinks in him, you can’t imagine how much he’d let slip in a post-orgasm induced haze.

You start to reconsider your decision on Ibuse, looking up at him contemplatively as he makes a snide comment about Kamatsu Sakyo—an older executive of the Sun and Steel, one of the ones you know have spent a night, or more, with Dazai, so your smile is a bit more genuine when you hear the way Ibuse drags him for being incompetent and useless.

“The older generation has to go,” Ibuse hisses, shaking his head as his arm tightens around you, leaning back against the wall. “They’re running us into the fucking ground. That fucker Kamatsu wants us to take that deal from the Red Chamber-”

“Masuji,” Abe warns, giving you a careful look, not as drunk as his companion. You raise your eyebrows at the comment from Ibuse, looking at him questioningly.

Ibuse waves off Abe haphazardly. “The Port Mafia did it right,” he says bluntly, taking another sip of his drink. “Wiped out the whole old regime after the previous boss died. That’s what the Boss should’ve done when he took over from his father. All of these old fucks need to drop dead.”

“The meeting with Xueqin went that poorly?” you ask casually, sure to keep the interest out of your tone as you look up at Ibuse.

“Don’t even get me started,” Ibuse scoffs. “That fucker wants-”

You’re careful to keep the irritation off your face when you hear the telltale sound of Mishima preparing to give his annual ‘thank you, fruitful alliances ahead!’ speech that always bores you to tears. Next to you, Ibuse sighs and pulls his arm off of you, pushing off the wall.

“We’ve gotta go up there with him. I’ll find you later?” he asks you, eyes a bit too hopeful, voice eager as he waits for your response.

“Definitely,” you say—the things you do for information.

With most of the attendees of the ball distracted by Mishima’s speech, you slip away to make your way over to the far corner where Dazai is waiting. Still, he tracks you—from the moment you make your subtle escape from the crowd until you’re standing right in front of him in the shadows where he’s lingering, his gaze remains trained on you, intense in a way that lets you know that he’s unhappy, if the way his jaw is tight didn’t.

“You’ve been having fun tonight,” he drawls, voice low as he looks down at you, arms folded across his chest.

“Is that what it seemed like?” you say lightly, taking a step closer, casting one last glance behind you to ensure that all eyes are pinned on Mishima before hooking your fingers into his belt loops to tug him closer to you. “At least I’m doing my job properly then.”

“It’s your job to let Mishima’s whore of an executive drape himself all over you?” Dazai tilts his head to the side, one hand sliding behind you to close the small distance between the two of you, leaving your chest pressed to his.

No, you let that drag on just because you could tell how irate Dazai was becoming over it, but Dazai doesn’t have to know that. So instead, you play coy.

“I have appearances to keep up,” you say, tilting your head up with a simpering smile, enjoying the way his gaze immediately darts down to your lips, lingering there before he has to forcibly drag it back up to your eyes. “You know that.”

“Yeah?” Dazai hums, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. His gaze drifts above you. “Maybe I should be making more of an effort with appearances then, Kamatsu has had his eye on me all night.”

Your eye doesn’t twitch at his words, but your grip on his belt loops tightens. “You don’t want to play that game with me, Dazai,” you warn, keeping your voice deceptively mild.

“And why is that?” Dazai drawls, looking too smug for your liking as he looks down at you as if realizing how much his threat bothered you.

“Because I’ll win,” you say easily, fingers slipping from his belt loops to slide your hands up and down his sides before settling them on his slim hips, relishing in the way his lashes flutter at your touch. “You know that. It’s unlike you to pick losing battles.”

“I won’t lose,” Dazai says with a scoff, and you walk him backward until the back of his knees hit a chair, guiding him back to sit down in it as Mishima finally starts a long-winded speech that’s going to last at least twenty or thirty minutes.

You give Dazai another teasing smile as you stand in front of where he’s sitting, lifting your hand to his chin, tilting his face up toward you. You lean down, lips brushing his as you murmur, “You already have.”

“Have I?” Dazai asks, amused. He unconsciously leans forward to capture his lips with yours but you shift just out of reach before he can, raising your eyebrows pointedly at the annoyed look he gives you.

You make quick work of undoing his tie, slipping it from his neck before wrapping it loosely around your wrist, hyper aware of the way his gaze is trained sharply on your face, studying your every move. You bring your other hand back up to his face, cupping his cheek gently, and your breath catches as he leans into your touch, eye lidded as he looks up atwith you. He tilts his head to the side to press his lips against your palm, keeping eye contact as he lifts his hand to cover yours, shifting it so he can graze his lips against the pulse point on your wrist.

“You have,” you agree, grateful that your voice isn’t as breathless as you feel from the combined intensity of his gaze and his lips on your skin.

“How so?” Dazai looks entirely too smug, probably can feel the way your pulse is racing under his touch, and you itch to wipe the smugness right off of his face.

“I’m meeting Ibuse after this speech,” you tell him, now entirely too smug yourself as Dazai expression drops and goes icy, fingers stiffening from where his hand is still pressed over yours. “Need to get him to spill about the meeting with the Red Chamber, he already started getting into it before. If I get him alone, we’ll know everything we need.”

“Go ahead,” Dazai sounds deceptively calm, you’d almost believe he didn’t care if the look in his eye didn’t betray him, cold and promising bloodshed. “I’ll kill him.”

“You’ll start a war,” you say absently, the tips of your fingers brushing through his dark hair.

“I don’t care,” Dazai replies, and you know that he’s serious—it should worry you, he could throw all of your work with the Sun and Steel out the window in a split second, but instead you only find yourself giddy, tongue pressing behind your teeth and a smile curving at your lips as you look down at him.

“Careful, Dazai,” you breathe out, “almost sounds like you care.”

He does care, you know that and he knows that, but he refuses to admit it out loud. Refuses to put a label on anything between the two of you. You think it’s his way of maintaining some semblance of control over things; he thinks that if he actually admits what’s going on between the two of you, it’ll be a loss of control over himself that he can’t afford. 

As if threatening to start a gang war with the Mafia’s most important ally because you’re planning to sleep with someone for vital information isn’t a loss of control in itself. 

You also think it might have to do with the broken gasps he’d let out over the phone during the assassination plot on you a few weeks ago, when he thought that he’d miscalculated and they called his bluff, that they were going to get to you and no one was going to be able to get there in time to protect you. 

“Everything I never want to lose is always lost the moment I obtain it.”

You wonder, maybe, if he thinks that not making things official with you is his way of protecting both you and himself. 

But it’s fucking frustrating. It’s frustrating dealing with his hot and cold—days where he’s so clearly enamored with you, spending hours laid up with you admiring you while you do work, looking at you with eyes that should only be reserved for long time lovers, and then there are days where he can hardly bring himself to look at you, avoiding you at every given chance, cold and aloof. It’s frustrating, and it’s exhausting, you just want to be with him.

His eye darkens, jaw clicking at your words, but he doesn’t respond other than that.

You’re not sure what exactly compels you to take another step forward, you watch as his gaze tracks down to the low cut of your dress, as he shifts in his seat, legs spread, clearly withholding the urge to adjust himself in his pants. A dangerous thought crosses your mind, one that you know you should toss away because of where you are, how many people are just on the other side of the room, but you find your body moving before you can stop yourself.

You watch him inhale, gaze tracking down to where your hand has slipped into the high slit of your dress, casting one last look over your shoulder to make sure the two of you are at an angle that no one would be able to easily see you before pulling down your thin black panties—the ones you know he loves and wore just to see the way the pupil of his visible eye becomes blown wide at the sight of them, breath hitching.

You shift closer to him, balling them into your fist, one hand sliding behind the back of his head, fingers entwined with his dark hair as you tilt his head back, eyes tracing the exhilaration on his face as he looks up at you, realizing what you’re going to do, where you’re going to do it.

“You’re crazy,” he breathes out. The words are reverent, he speaks them in the same way you imagine he would tell you he loves you, it makes your breath catch. “Here? What're you gonna do if one of them looks over and sees you stuffed with my cock, hm? How're you gonna explain why you're full of cum when you go meet that clown?”

“You talk too much,” you note, stepping forward. “Open up.”

Dazai’s lips part instinctively, but before you stuff his mouth with your panties, you lean over him, fingers hooking around his bottom lip as you force his mouth a little wider, watching as his breath hitches and his lashes flutter when you spit right into his open mouth, swallowing it immediately. 

Your lips curl up as you lift the hand holding your panties, taking in an unsteady breath as he lets you push your panties between his lips; he lets out a muffled groan around them, eyes sliding shut as if savoring the taste of them. You shift your dress around slightly so you can comfortably straddle his thighs. His hands immediately fly to your waist, but you click your tongue lightly, pushing them off and sliding his tie around his wrists once you’ve got them behind his back.

He tilts his head to the side, giving you a heavy, judgmental look. He doesn’t even have to speak to know what he’s thinking: “You really think this is going to stop me?”

You give him a sweet smile, leaning in to graze your lips against his jaw, feeling the shaky breath he lets out around your panties. “If you free yourself from them,” you murmur, lips brushing his ear as you speak, “I’ll stop.”

You don’t wait for his reaction, directing your attention down toward his slacks, loosening his belt and unbuttoning his pants. You ease his cock out of his briefs, weight heavy in your hand, tip flushed pink and leaky. You give it an experimental pump, using his own precum as lube, and watch as he tilts his head back, giving a full body shudder.

“You’re so easy to rile up,” you sigh softly, shifting forward so that his cock slides between your slick folds, you press your lips to the underside of his jaw to smother the moan you almost let out when his tip catches on your clit. “I love it.”

You know he’s trying to shoot you a withering look, but the effects of it are severely diminished with how his face is flushed pink and his eyes are unfocused. You give him another saccharine smile, and that’s the only warning he gets before you’re sinking down on his cock. 

You can feel every inch of him stretching you open, filling you up until the tip of his cock is nudging right up against your cervix. It takes all of your self control to bite back the loud gasp that nearly rips from your lips, not wanting to have to bury your face in the crook of his neck just yet, watching as he lets out a choked noise that’s loud even with your panties stuffed in his mouth, eyes rolling to the back of his head.

“Careful,” you warn, leaning in to drag your lips up his neck to the corner of his lips. You lift one of your hands to hold the back of his head again, gripping his hair as you force him to look at you again, fingers tugging hard at his hair. His gaze is unfocused, lips parting as he heaves around your panties, throat spasming—he looks fucking divine, and for a moment, you regret doing this here because you might have to kill someone if they see him when he’s looking like this. “You don’t want them to see you like this, yeah?”

You can hear the whine that builds in the back of his throat, trying to rock his hips up into yours. The sloppy sound of his cock driving into your cunt is too loud—Mishima is still speaking loudly, drowning out any noise that could possibly be coming from your secluded corner, but it’s so risky, you almost don’t know what’s gotten into you. If anyone happens to wander over this way…

“God, what do you do to me?” you gasp, leaning in so you can graze your teeth against his neck, threatening to bite down. 

You’re never this reckless—not when it’s your reputation on the line, you’ve spent years honing it into the weapon it’s become, and here you are risking it all just because Dazai Osamu decided to give you bedroom eyes during one of the most important events the Port Mafia attends. Fuck, he drives you insane.

His head lolls forward, forehead resting against the side of yours, lips brushing your ear. You can feel his heavy pants, each one catching over a moan muffled by your panties. You rock your hips back and forth quickly, each drag of his cock against your walls making you hot and lightheaded. Whether it’s just from the sheer pleasure of it all—the way the tip of his cock pressees right into that sensitive spot deep inside of you, the way he’s so quickly coming undone beneath you, body trembling and drool pooling at the corner of his lips around your panties—or if it’s because of the way anyone could wander over in this direction, catch you fucking Dazai so brazenly when there’s a crowd of one hundred and fifty, two hundred of the most important people in the Japanese underworld just on the far side of the room, you don’t know, but heat pools in your abdomen so quickly that it’s almost impossible to control. 

You can feel his breath ragged, his body tense, each roll of your hips against his has Dazai falling apart, and you can feel the telltale sign of his cock twitching inside of you, signaling that he’s about to finish. You tug his hair, pulling his head back from where it's fallen against you, and you lift your other hand quickly up to his lips, pushing them inside of his mouth to hook your fingers around your panties, pulling them out of his mouth.

Instantly, Dazai is pushing himself forward to press his lips against yours, freeing himself of his own tie so his hands can fly to your waist. You let out a low moan into his mouth as he pushes his tongue into yours, one hand sliding from your waist to your back, keeping your body flush to his as he grinds you down on his cock hard.

“Fuck,” Dazai groans into your mouth, voice choked. You can see the way he can hardly keep his gaze steady, the way he’s gripping your dress to try to keep himself grounded. “I-ah, shit-I’m close. I’m-”

You lean in to swallow his moan, kissing him hard as his eyes roll to the back of his head, hips stuttering as he spills his cum deep inside of you. Your breath catches at the feeling of his cum filling you up, warm, heavy, so much of it that you can feel it dribbling out from where his cock is still stuffed deep inside of you; it’s the last thing you need to push you over the edge, mind blank and jaw falling slack as your body shudders in his arms.

Black dots spot your vision, your nails dragging down his black coat, your whole body consumed with pleasure—it hits you so hard that you think maybe you might’ve passed out for a split second. The feeling of your release sends a shockwave through Dazai, you can feel the way his body spasms and jerks when your walls suddenly tighten around his sensitive cock.

“God,” Dazai breathes out against your lips, eyes glazed over as the two of you come down from your high, an expression so adoring on his face that you think for a moment, you might be imagining it. “You’re so…”

He doesn’t finish his sentence, leaves it to your imagination, and you want to press, but you don’t have the chance because you’re slapped hard with reality when you hear Mishima’s speech coming to an end, eyes widening. Your legs are shaky as you push off of him, hissing at the feeling of his softening cock slipping out of your cunt—you almost snort when you see how Dazai twitches and winces at the sudden movement, still sensitive.

“Clean yourself up,” you tell him sharply, straightening your dress and fixing your hair, trying to catch sight of yourself in the reflection of a nearby glass, watching from the corner of your eye as Dazai stuffs himself back in his pants, wiping your cum off of his expensive black slacks before sucking it right off of his fingers. He grabs his tie from where he’d let it fall to the ground, and then your panties, winking at you before he stuffs them in the pocket of his jacket. 

His gaze lifts to you as he rises to his feet, drifting lazily over your form, lingering on the way your skin glows with a soft sheen of sweat, the loose strands of hair that cling to your forehead—something you hope you can play off considering the air condition in the ballroom isn’t on. Then his gaze settles down on the lower half of your body, lips curling up into a slow smirk.

He takes a few steps closer to you, holding his tie out to you. “Re-tie it?” he hums, and you roll your eyes because you know he can do it himself and you know he has some sort of ulterior motive right now, but you take it from him regardless.

You quickly slide the tie around his neck, trying to tie it quickly before anyone catches sight of the two of you, but with you so focused on getting this done, you miss the way his hand sneaks forward until you feel it slip into the slit of your dress. 

“Dazai,” you warn, keeping your voice low, but your breath catches when you feel him gather up all of the cum that had dribbled out of your cunt, head falling against his shoulder as you try to force yourself not to react when he uses two fingers to stuff it right back inside of you.

You can feel the wicked grin against your ear as he leans down to tug your earlobe gently. “Good luck explaining this to Ibuse.”

Then he steps away, dark eye glittering dangerously as he looks down at you.

“I’ll find you later,” he says before turning to walk away.

You’re not sure if it’s a threat or a promise and you don’t have time to make a snide comment asking, because you hear Ibuse approaching you from behind, giddy and excited until he catches sight of Dazai’s infamous black coat retreating, swallowing thickly and eyes flickering nervously between the two of you—a common reaction to the executive’s presence, knowing how dangerous and unpredictable he can be.

You wonder if Dazai would make Ibuse half as nervous and uncomfortable if he’d known he just spent the last fifteen minutes with your panties stuffed in his mouth and his hands tied behind his back, whining and whimpering, muffling all of his sounds so people didn’t overhear the two of you. But you dismiss that thought—that’s knowledge for you to keep to yourself, you don’t like sharing.

“Let’s get out of here?” you hum, drawing him out of his thoughts before he can spiral.

He lights back up again, but you can tell he’s still nervous from Dazai’s brief appearance. “Yeah, c’mon.”

Two hours later, you wander out of one of the back rooms in Mishima’s mansion, intent on getting back to headquarters. You don’t get more than two feet before you feel a hand wrap around your wrist, tugging you backward hard until your back meets a familiar chest.

Your heartbeat stills from the brief bout of erraticness when you felt someone grab you, relaxing back into Dazai, tilting your head back and to the side to look up at him as he holds your hips, keeping you flush to him.

“Did you fuck him?” Dazai asks, voice low and expression unreadable.

You have half a mind to say yes, just to see what Dazai plans to do if you did. He can’t kill Ibuse, not even he is reckless enough to start a war with the Sun and Steel right now, but you don’t think you want to risk it.

“Didn’t have to,” you say honestly. “He was babbling out everything I wanted to know before the doors even closed.”

Dazai searches your face for a moment as if trying to decide if you’re being truthful, when he does, one of his hands slips off your waist into his coat, and you hear the familiar sound of Dazai flipping the safety of his gun back on.

“Dazai,” you snap. “You can’t just-”

“I can do whatever I want,” Dazai interrupts you with the type of confidence that lets you know he had every intention of putting a bullet through Ibuse’s head if you fucked him, regardless of the consequences. The thought of that alone makes your blood run hot, pupils dilating as you look up at him; Dazai’s lips curve up slowly as if he knows just what’s going on in your head. He looks behind you curiously before focusing back down on you asking: “Is he passed out in there?”

“Mhm,” you agree, watching him curiously as you try to figure out what he might be thinking. “Drank too much.”

“Good,” Dazai murmurs, walking you right back into the room you’d come out of, a sharp smile on his face. He closes the door behind the two of you, gaze flickering over to where Ibuse is unconscious on the couch before he backs you up until your knees hit the corner of the bed, pushing you back onto it. “Let’s see if we can wake him up then.”

[tiredofthehumanlife]

Damn you Brisket Five

Barbie dolls:five hargreeves x gn! Reader

Word: 4.1k

Summary: you and five (also Diego) get into an argument and he leaves you in the subway to cool off ha makes you promise not to get in the train what happens next will shock you

Warnings: mentions of killing, set in s4 minus the cheating, you're in the wrong but are extremely hard headed and kinda mean to Five and Diego, you try to punch Diego, you're picked up by Luther, brisket Five is a flirty dick, you eat a sandwich that reminds you of your grandmas and I described a slight "memory" so it might not match with anything you've experienced, one or two sex jokes I think but I idk, it's unclear where you are in the plot but it's not all that important, one mention of vomiting and stomach uneasy, Five's a little jelly

Inspired by: this and this

You groaned, throwing your head back in frustration. Allison pointed at you in agreement, looking around your circle as you all argued.

“This is stupid; why can’t we go back in time and kill Jennifer? I’m sure she’s a sweet girl but we’re talking about the universe right now,” you said, looking around at the faces staring at you. Luther shook his head at you. Diego made a grimace, looking away from you entirely. Allison scrunched her nose. Lila flashed her teeth like an upset dog, staring down at her hands. Klaus snorted, somehow finding a joke in this. You look over at Five to find him pinching his brow.

“We are not doing that because that’s what the Commission would do. That’s not who we are.” Five said, agitation scaping at the sound of his words. You hummed.

”Well what’s your idea, genius?” You asked, getting tired of them pretending like they were picking out an ice cream flavor. Five looked up at you with furrowed brows.

“Don’t talk to me like that.” He said, rubbing his lips together like it left a sour taste in his mouth. You rolled your eyes at him, looking around the group. Viktor held his finger up.

“I have an idea.” Everyone's eyes turned to him. “What if I just absorb all the marigold into my body and then get absorbed by The Durango?” You shook your head.

“No absolutely not.” You said, staring at Viktor to make sure he felt the sincerity in your voice. Luther scoffed.

“So you’re down to kill Jennifer but not Viktor?” Diego said, crossing his arms over his chest. You reeled back, looking at him to see if that really came from his mouth.

“Are you for real?” Diego gave a short nod. “Man fuck you.” You said before lunging at him. Diego pulled back, shocked at your sudden movement. Luther pulled you away, flinging you over his shoulder. He took three steps away from Diego so you couldn’t reach him even if you wanted to. You smacked Luther on his back while trying to wiggle out of his arms.

“Five control your partner,” Diego muttered. It sparked a few mummers of disagreement. Klaus grimaced at Diego. Allison reached over and smacked the back of Diego's head while Viktor whispered an ew. Five scoffed.

“Luther, put me down. Let me at him.” You whispered to Luther. Luther patted the back of your calf.

“No can do; you’re staying up there until you calm down.” You sighed at Luther’s words, giving up on getting out of shoulder jail anytime soon.

“Guys, what if we just all sacrifice ourselves to the Durango thingie?” Klaus asked, earning a unanimous no. You slumped against Luther, wishing he would just put you down already.

"Luther, turn around so I’m facing the group, would you?” Luther nodded, turning around so his back was facing the circle. You pressed your arms into his back, holding yourself up so you could make eye contact.

“What if we go back to where we had dinner all those days ago, use Five’s funky train? We go back to before Ben did his shenanigans; stop him; we don’t have this problem anymore.” You said, looking around the group to gain their reactions. Viktor raised an eyebrow, looking at Allison. Allison bit into her knuckle, staring at the floor to think it over. Five squinted his eyes at you. Diego started whispering to Lila. Klaus looked over to Five.

“That’s a possibility,” Diego said. Five shrugged.

“If Lila mimicked my power, we could most definitely get you all down there.” Five muttered. Luther gently set you down, turning back around to face the group. You straightened your clothes. You stood next to Five instead of Luther, still upset he basically put you in time out.

“Is that our plan?” Viktor asked. The group murmured different versions of yes. You glared at Diego.

“We have to stop home first, we can’t miss dinner with my family,” Lila said, glancing at Diego. You nodded, following after the rest of the group. You stopped by Diego, glaring at him.

“I really wanted to deck you. Still do.” You whispered. Five appeared next to you, grabbing your shoulder and steering you away.

“Remember who drives you around!” Diego yelled after you as Five directed you out of the house. You watched as he pulled you away from the group heading to the van, off to the side. You squinted at him.

“Just because I supported your idea does not mean I’m not still upset with you.” Five said, keeping his tone low. You furrowed your eyebrows. You crossed your arms over your chest, glancing over at the van to see most of his family pressed to the window watching you two intently.

“Why are you upset?” You asked not understanding where this was coming from. Five sighed, reaching out towards you. His hands hovered over your elbows in an attempt to soothe you.

“It hurt me when you spoke to me like that. You were talking like we aren’t equals. I didn’t like that you suggested that we kill Jennifer. I didn’t like how you treated Diego back there. I understand you’re annoyed and frustrated, a little hard-headed, but I still think you should be respectful to the people around you.” Five said, holding up a finger after each item he listed. You pulled back.

“I’m sorry, aren’t you the man who is regularly calling people names, and making insults? You’re the sarcastic pain in the ass.” You pointed at him. Five glanced at Diego and Lila joining the others in the car, pausing your conversation-argument so they didn’t hear.

“That’s different. I’m not blatanly trying to punch them.” Five pointed at Diego in the car like he was worried you’d forget. You scoffed.

“Oh, that’s rich.” You muttered. Five flung his hands out.

“How, tell me. How.” Five asked, getting more and more annoyed.

“You’re acting like I’m the worst person ever to swing on someone but need I remind you of your past job?” Five’s face fell before pulling into a grimace. He pointed his finger at you.

“I told you I didn’t enjoy the killing. Need I also remind you that you worked there as well?” Five asked, raising an eyebrow at you. You felt your heart beat faster as your anger grew.

“I never picked up a gun, you dickhead. I did paperwork.” You said, leaning closer, so he could feel the anger vibrating off your body. Five scoffed.

“You’re acting like you’re so much better than me, you ordered who got killed. You didn’t pull the trigger but you aimed. You’re just as much of a lowlife as I am.” Five held his arms out in a T-pose like he was saying, ‘This is it.’ You uncrossed your arms, holding them out to your sides. Five turned his back to you, facing the sky instead.

“That’s not what I said; this is just like what happened on the Kanas case.” You said, pointing in the direction of the van even though you weren’t sure if Kansas was that way. Five spun back around towards you, his jaw slack.

“You did not just bring up Kansas.” Five said in disbelief, staring at you. You nodded.

“I brought up Kansas.”

“Oh my- You and I both know that was not my fault. I thought we were past this?” Five said, grimacing at you. You shook your head, throwing your hands up.

“You never apologized.” You said, rolling your eyes. Five scoffed.

“Why would I apologize? It. Wasn’t. My. Fault.” You shook your head at Five. He huffed, spinning around again. You scoffed at him.

“You did the same thing there; you were acting like I was a horrible person. You started the argument. You almost got us killed, how is that not your fault?” Five groaned.

“Hey.. uh... you guys coming or what?” You heard Viktor yell from the van’s window. You and Five’s heads spun towards the van.

“Not now.” You both yelled at the same time, making Viktor turn the handle on the door as fast as he could to roll up the window. You and Five watched in silence as Viktor tried harder and harder to go faster. By the time it was closed, you two had taken a few breaths. You felt less radioactive but still pissed. Five sighed, looking up at you from staring at the ground.

“I think we both need to cool down.” Five muttered, reaching out for your hand. You grumbled before dropping your hand in his. It was seconds before you felt the sickness that came with Five’s jumps. You pulled away from him, finding yourself in his stupid subway.

“Damnit, Five. You know I hate that. I going to hurl.” You doubled over, supporting yourself with your hands on your knees. You took deep breaths while staring at the floor. You shrugged off Five’s hand when he tried to comfort you with a light back rub. You stood up straight when you felt your stomach settle. Five let out a sigh of relief.

“We both need to cool off, separate from each other. An hour or two tops. You can stay here, break shit. I really don’t care just do not get on the train. Okay? You have to promise me you won’t get on the train.” Five said, staring at you. You glanced over at where the train would be. “promise?” Five added when you were silent.

“Yeah, I won’t go on the train.” Five nodded before he blinked out again. You sighed, slumping onto the bench nearby. Maybe you should break shit. That vending machine was looking a little appetizing right now. You looked up at the loud sounds of the train screeching into your station. The train doors slid open, showing the very inviting subway seats that definitely wouldn’t hurt at all. You glanced over at where Five was standing. He technically wasn’t here. He did say it would be a few hours before he got back. Nothing was really stopping you from going inside. You didn’t even say ‘I promise’. So, does it count? You stood up from the bench, stepped onto the train, and settled into the seat across from the door.

The train lurched forward, making you glance around. You expected the train ride to be very short, only a few minutes, but you couldn’t fully get a feel for how long it had been. You got bored after a while deciding to find something to climb on. After failing to hang upside down four times, you got bored of that too. You laid across the seats on your back, closing your eyes to take a nap. Then the train stopped. You peeked an eye open, glancing around for monsters before sitting up. You stared at the door as it slid open.

Then, what you least expected, you saw Five. In his suit too. He walked past the open door before stopping at the window next to it. He backpeddled, staring at you with a confused face. Just as you were about to defend your case, he started running. away. His fancy shoes clicked on the floor as he ran. You stood up, chasing after him.

“Hey, man. I know the argument was kinda rough, but it wasn’t that bad.” You yelled after him. Five glanced over his shoulder, picking up his pace. He skidded around the corner, almost tripping on the way. You reached the same corner after a few seconds, stopping in the middle of the hallway. In the middle of the subway station was a diner. ‘Max’s Delicatessen’ over the door in big bold letters.

You picked up your pace, walking to the door and swinging it open. You stepped inside, ignoring the bell on the door. You stopped when you saw what was inside. There was one Five, out of breath and leaning on one of the tables. Probably the one you chased. Then every other customer and worker here was Five. They all turned around, pausing what they were doing to stare harder. You held your breath before spinning back around for the door.

“Oh no. Stay. Please?” You heard Five’s voice. It had already said no to him. You turned back around, not sure which Five spoke to you. One of them stood up from his seat, almost knocking over his coffee.

“How did you get here without your Five?” The standing one asked. You pointed behind you.

“Train.” You heard a few Fives snort, which you thought was odd because FIve liked to pretend he hated your pain-in-the-ass-ness. The Five you chased after, turned around to face you.

“Where’s your Five? Did he die?” He asked. You heard the Five next to him mutter something about being gentle.

“No, well, not right now. He hasn’t. He’s probably pouting in the car right now.” You said, stepping further into the restaurant. A Five sitting in the booth closest to the door gestured for you to join him. You sat down in the booth, still looking around at all the Fives.

“Pouting?” the runner Five asked. You nodded.

“We go into a fight, a stupid one might I add. He told me to cool off here in the subway. So he’s probably pouting right now.” The closest Fives around you hummed.

“Did you bring up Kansas?” The Five across from you asked. You rolled your eyes.

“Listen, he was being all picky about how I had to talk to people while arguing over how we should stop the world from ending. It’s ridiculous.” The Five across from you sighed. He reached across the table, holding onto your hand. He stared into your eyes.

“I have really bad news for you, you were a little out of line. Most of us have had the same or similar argument, and every version of you was just a little out of line. It’s nothing against you.” The Five across from you said. Runner Five slid into the seat next to the one holding your hand.

“When we figure out what to do with our apocalypse, we have to be respectful to everyone else. If we hurt any of our bonds it could cost us the world.” The runner Five said. You nodded, staring down at the table.

“Diego told my Five to ‘get me under control’ and he was all like judging me because I said we should just kill Jennifer-“ You heard the Fives around you hiss, covering their mouths with their hands. “Which isn’t the best idea but we don’t have a lot of options here.”

“That probably freaked out your Five. We want to have entirely different morals than the Commission did. Diego was out of line with those comments but I don’t know if you should’ve swung on him.” The Five holding your hand said.

“Well, I don’t know how to get back and apologize. I fully went on the train to spite Five.” You said, slumping in your seat. The Five holding your hand, ran his thumb over the top, comforting you just slightly.

“You don’t need to worry about getting back. Anytime now, your Five will come through that door and whisk you away back home.” The Five across from you said, before dropping your hand to pick up his coffee instead.

“In the meantime, Brisket Five here will make you a sandwich.” The Runner Five said, pointing at the Five standing behind the counter with an apron on. Brisket Five waved at you, before sending a wink in your direction. You felt your face warm, looking away from him to instead look at the table. A few minutes later, of you making small talk about different aspects of your life with the two Fives in front of you, Brisket Five came to stand next to you with a plate. He set it down on the table before leaning over the table to smile at you.

“It’s your favorite.” He muttered, making the other two Fives groan. You glanced down at it. It just looked like a regular sandwich with toasted bread to you.

“My favorite from where?” You asked, keeping your hands in your lap. Brisket FIve grinned at you, pushing the plate just a smidge closer to you.

“From your childhood. The sandwich your grandma made for you after a long day of playing in the sprinklers.” He said. You stared down at the sandwich, wondering if he was fucking with you. ”Try it.” You glared up Brisket FIve. He should know that you hate taking any orders from Five. He tilted his head down, staring up at you with blown-wide puppy eyes. ”Please.” he whispered.

Even the Fives from other universes knew you were weak for the puppy eyes. You sighed before picking up the sandwich. You held it steady in front of your face, still not so sure about it. You glanced at Brisket Five once more before taking a bite. You paused when you truly felt yourself transported back to your Grandma’s house.

You could feel her warm blue towel wrapped around your shoulders while your wet swimsuit was still sticking to you. You could hear her muttering about your grandfather leaving food in the oven. You could feel how the table was just a little too big for you, having to lean forward to reach over the edge. You could hear the ticking of her clock.

“I thought you were messing with me.” You muttered, looking up at Brisket Five. He puffed his chest out just a little more. He stood up straight, brushing off his apron.

“You should trust me more often, my love. I’m more than just a pretty face.” Brisket five said, placing his hands on his hips and shrugging. You glanced over at the other two Fives at your table, both glaring at Brisket Five.

“Fuck you, Brisket Five.” The runner FIve said.

“You should know their Five is still alive, you should cut back on the flirting.” The Five across from you said. You glanced at Brisket Five out of the corner of your eye before looking back to the other two.

“Off topic but who’s Max?” You asked before taking another bite of the sandwich.

“I am!” Someone yelled back behind the counter. You glanced over to see another Five raising his hand. You looked back at the Fives you had already met, confused more than when you found out there were more than two Fives.

“We are. Dickhead.” Brisket Five yelled back. Max frowned at Brisket Five.

“Get back to work, Brisket Five,” Five-Max said, before moving back behind the counter. Brisket FIve turned back around to face you. He winked at you again. He reached out and tapped your cheek with his pointer knuckle, giving you an odd sense of deja vu.

“Talk to you later.” He muttered before walking away to the counter. You shrugged, looking back at your sandwich.

“What. A. Dick.” Runner Five said. You hummed. Across-from-you Five grumbled while staring at Brisket Five’s back.

“Makes a damn good sandwich, though.” You added, sinking your teeth in again. You groaned at how good it tasted. You tossed your head back, staring at the ceiling. You heard the bell above the door ring. You turned around, looking at the door to see who it was.

In all his glory, was yet another Five. You squinted at him, raising an eyebrow. He caught eyes with you; he pressed his lips together and tilted his head in a ‘you really did this’ manner. You gasped, setting your sandwich down. You threw your arms up in the air.

“Five! Darling, I missed you.” You said, smiling brightly at him. A few heads turned back to see which Five you were talking to. Your Five walked over towards your table, sliding into the seat next to you. His hand inched for yours, intertwining your fingers.

“Thought you promised not to use the subway?” He asked, giving you a knowing smile. You tutted, shaking your head.

“I never said ‘I promise’. I just said I wouldn't which makes it a fib and not a broken promise.” You said, defending your case perfectly. Five nodded, and he leaned forward. He pecked your lips. Five lingered for a few seconds, his apology pressed between each other's lips. He pulled back and sighed.

“I’m sorry for being so dickhead-ish.” He muttered, knocking his nose against yours. You pulled back, shaking your head.

“No, you don't have anything to apologize for; I was the one being all dickhead-ish. I shouldn't have called you that anyway. I'm sorry. I should've treated you better.” You said, grabbing his other hand to hold as well. Five hummed.

“And Diego?” You scrunched your nose. Five raised an eyebrow at you.

“Yeah, I guess him, too. I’ll apologize later.” You turned back to your sandwich, taking another bite.

“And what about Kansas?” Five asked. You made a sad face, making quick work of the bite in your mouth.

“I shouldn't have brought up Kansas because we both know it's a sore spot for the both of us.” You said with a monotone voice, sounding like a tired robot.

“That was nice to hear.” Five said before knocking your cheek with his knuckle. You got flashbacks to seconds before when Brisket Five left back towards the counter.

“Oh, by the way, Brisket Five was flirting with me.” You said before taking another bite. Your Five stared at the side of your face in shock. He glanced over at the other two Fives at your table. They both nodded while you kept your focus on your sandwich. Five leaned over the edge of the seat to look over your head at Brisket Five.

“What. A. Dick.” Five muttered. You nodded.

“That's what I said.” Runner Five said, pointing at Your Five. You set down your sandwich, looking over at Five.

“Do we have to go now?” You asked, giving him your best version of his puppy eyes. Five shook his head.

“You can finish your sandwich and then we can worry about the end of the world.” Five said, kissing your cheek. Yousmiled and focused on your sandwich again. Five rubbed your knee and started a conversation with the other two Fives. By the time you had finished, Brisket Five came back to take the plate away. He sent you a grin and wink. Five reached over and covered your eyes with his hands.

“Go away, Brisket Five.” Runner Five said. After that you said goodbye to all the other Fives, telling them you'll be back real soon. Your Five held your hand, gently tugging you towards the door. Just as you were about to get out the door, Brisket Five appeared next to you. He held out a ball of foil that looked suspiciously similar to a sandwich.

“It’s another sandwich, cause I know you loved it so much.” Brisket Five said. You took it out of his hands, cradling it to your chest.

“Thank you, Brisket Five.” You whispered. Your Five stood behind you, pressing his hands into your back, and gently pushing you towards the door.

“Yeah. Thanks, Brisket Five.” Five repeated from behind you. You two were out the door in no time, Five leading you towards the train by your hand. As you waited for the train to pull in, you hooked your elbow with Five’s. You leaned up to his ear, kissing the apple of his cheek. You pulled back at the screeching of the train pulling in. You walked into the train car with Five, sitting down next to each other. He dropped his head onto your shoulder as the train pulled away. You rested your chin on top of his head.

“I love you.” He whispered under his breath. You weren’t entirely positive that he wouldn’t fall asleep on the ride home. You dropped a kiss to the top of his head.

“I love you.” You hummed against his hair in response.

“More than Brisket Five?” Five asked. You glanced down at the sandwich in your lap.

“Have you thought about making sandwiches before?” You muttered. Five scoffed, reaching for the sandwich. You held it away from him, tapping his nose in a reprimanding manner. Five humphed.

“I’m going to kill Brisket Five.” Five whispered into your shoulder. You almost laughed at the feeling.

“Just keep his apron, it was kind of hot.” Five grumbled at your words. You gave him another kiss on his head so he was reminded that you were just joking. You thought about how you were going to apologize to Diego with words on the ride home. Diego apologized as well, bringing you a large plate of Lila’s family’s delicious food as an apology. Which you took very happily.

[fuctacles]

A tale as old as time

For @subeddieweek Day 7 | M | 2696 | cw: age gap (about 25-30y difference, Eddie's age is not stated, Steve's aligns with canon) | camboy Eddie, transmasc Eddie, kinda sugar daddy Steve?, modern AU, simp Steve, virgin Eddie, chatfic, pre-anything, gray ace Eddie | Ao3 Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | Ao3

"Hawkins High '86? How old is this guy?" Eddie asks himself, his eyebrows raised. There is a letterman in front of him, a gift from one of his top subscribers. Hell, his top subscriber. His number-one fan, who was responsible for about half of his revenue.

He's opened a PO box recently, with no little amount of worry about what kind of stuff he might get. He only gave the address to his top subscribers but he knew that the ones with the most money were usually the most unhinged. He went to the post office with his heart in his throat but all he got was a set of lingerie, a toy, and the letterman he was now holding.

He tried not to think about what kind of people would pay for his content. As long as he was making money he didn't care. But now he got a piece of one of them in his hands. Staring back.

1986.

Meaning the guy must be nearing 60. Double Eddie's age. 

He tries to imagine that. An older guy, with wrinkles, maybe a beer belly, a gross old t-shirt, and his hand permanently in his sweats, beating it to his photos. 

It was gross. And in a way, alluring.

Though someone with so much money to spend on a camboy must have a well-paying job. Some rich asshole, exploiting others to do the work for him. That's a more likely scenario. He tries not to think about big, rough hands on him when he puts on the jacket and takes pics for Shar.

He edits them a bit before sending them, knowing the guy will get a kick from seeing him in his jacket. The appeal of wearing your boyfriend's letterman eluded him in high school, but being claimed like that gave him a heady feeling. The fact that the guy could be his father apparently worked for him too. 

He doesn't put his phone away fast enough and sees the message that pops up.

Shar: So hot. You look like every repressed teen jock's dream

Shar: Definitely like mine

Eddie thinks a moment about his response, channeling the persona he takes on for the camera. 

PuppetOfMasters: Would I be your dirty secret?

PuppetOfMasters: Would you fuck me in the locker room behind your girlfriend's back?

Shar: I'd make YOU my girlfriend

Shar: Wait no

Shar: NOT LIKE THAT

Shar: A girlfriend but in a manly way

Eddie snorts.

You're good, he types. I know what you mean, don't worry.

He wouldn't keep around someone who didn't respect him. Besides, he made it clear he's saving for a transition with his Only Fans.

Thank god, Shar types. I respect who you are 

Shar: In fact, I spend so much money on you because of it. 

Eddie rolls onto his other side, his mood souring. One of those trans fetishists, then. That's fine, as long as he's being respectful and paying... Even if it leaves an unpleasant taste in his mouth. 

Ah, a connoisseur! Well, I hope I'm your favorite tranny, then, he jokes. He waits for an answer, but it doesn't come for a long while, so he flips his phone screen down and turns away, hoping for sleep.

A response is waiting for him when he wakes up. 

Shar: I guess it sounded that way, but I'm not that kind of pervert. You're the only trans sex worker I follow, but not the only trans person I've sent money to.

Eddie sauntered to the bathroom, not taking his eyes off his phone. He wonders if continuing the conversation is even the right move. He's talked to one too many guys who thought sending him a dick pick was okay after ten minutes of small talk between a content creator and a fan.

But he's kind of curious. When he has money to spare, he sends some change to other trans folks to help out, because he knows how hard it is from his own experience. But why Shar, a seemingly loaded old guy, would spend his money on queers instead of, let's say, starving children?

PuppetOfMasters: So you're just an ally with cash? Or is there more to it? I'm curious.

He goes through his morning routine, washing his face, and brushing his teeth, not expecting Shar to get back to him any time soon. So he's surprised when he picks his phone back up and a response is waiting.

Shar: Long story short, I hope my father is rolling in his grave while I spend his inheritance on people he hated so much.

That's not what Eddie expected at all. 

PuppetOfMasters: So I'm a means of rebellion against your bigoted dead father? I'll take that. I hate rich assholes

Shar: Me too

They don't talk for the whole day after that, but when Eddie's done running errands and editing in the evening, he looks back at the letterman hanging on the door of his wardrobe. 

How is sending me your letterman an act of rebellion? he asks. Because he's a curious little shit. 

The response comes fast like the guy is glued to his Only Fans chat. Gross. Eddie wonders briefly if he's talking with other sex workers there.

Shar: A souvenir of his precious high school fetishized on a queer ssex worker? He'd die if he hadn't already

So it is a fetish thing! Eddie smiles triumphantly at his phone.

Shar: Okay, fine

Shar: Sticking it to my father is just a bonus for you being really hot. 

Shar: And I do love seeing you in my letterman, I've jerked off to it three times already

Shar: is that what you wanted to hear?

Eddie grins, rolling on his bed.

PuppetOfMasters: Yes 

Shar: So yeah, I'm an old man who peaked in high school, laugh it up

PuppetOfMasters: I'd rather you peaked in me

Shar: Insufferable

Shar: Menace

Shar: Yeah, I'd love that. A man can dream, right?

Eddie bites his lip. How far is too far? The guy seems genuine and after the amount of creeps that's been chatting him up, he thinks his creep radar is quite good. Tentatively, he starts typing.

PuppetOfMasters: I don't know. I think people would like seeing me get railed by an older guy

Shar: An old guy, you mean

Shar: You'd make a video with me?

PuppetOfMasters: I record most of the sex I have, yes

Shar: Huh. I've never seen one before, then

PuppetOfMasters: warm, warmer

Shar: ... There aren't any?

PuppetOfMasters: din ding ding! ya boy is a virgin

Shar: shit

Shar: fuck

Shar: that's so hot

Shar: you'd let me?

PuppetOfMasters: Would I let my best-paying subscriber be my first time on camera? Probably

Not necessarily to be released but he couldn't lose the possibility of such golden content in case it was watchable. 

Shar: I'd better keep my spot then. Just in case.

PuppetOfMasters: No worries, you seem the most trustworthy so far anyway.

But as he types it, a new notification appears. Shar sent him a hefty tip on one of his photos.

PuppetOfMasters: That's really not necessary

PuppetOfMasters: But I hope your father is kicking and screaming in his coffin

Shar: I fucking hope so

----

It takes Eddie another day to google Hawkins High's yearbook photos. He'd thought about it before but didn't want to break the bubble of anonymity between himself and his fan. But the thoughts of big hands on his hips, and beard rubbing against his neck, took root in his brain and were tainting his mind.

Not fully in tune with his body and distrustful of others, Eddie has been single for most of his life. And now his stupid horny brain was drooling at the thought of losing his virginity to a grandpa on the internet. 

Hoping it would help his thoughts calm down, he looks through the photos from the year 1986, in search of a Harrington. And he finds him.

Steve Harrington. Basketball captain and swim team co-captain. His hairdo was magnificent and his smile was self-confident. Eddie would hate him in high school. Should probably hate him now. So he expands his search further, beyond the Hawkins High memory lane.

He finds one single photo on a LinkedIn profile. 

The current Steve Harrington's hair is no less magnificent, just peppered with silver. He wears glasses now, which accentuate the line of his jaw and make his neatly trimmed facial hair pop out. He's wearing a yellow jacket and a white golf, which should be hideous but weirdly, works for him. Eddie doesn't get to see his eyes, unfortunately. The photo looks like a candid photo shoot take-out after someone told him a joke. His head is tilted down, eyes scrunched and lips pulled in a smile, as a bubbling laugh got immortalized on camera.

Eddie shouldn't be finding a sixty-year-old man this endearing. 

PuppetOfMasters: I like your LinkedIn photo

PuppetOfMasters: Well, I hope it's you. 

PuppetOfMasters: Steve, right?

He can't forget about this for the whole day, not as he budgets his income, and especially not when he records a short video jerking off in the shower. He tries not to look at his phone but it's his only one, so he does while trying to budget in a second one, just for sex work. Maybe then he wouldn't be feeling so insane about not getting a response from a stranger who is an old pervert spending loads of money on him. 

He tries to be normal when a chat notification finally pops up. 

Shar: If you saw the golf and yellow jacket photo, that's me

Shar: though please don't make me type my full name in here.

no worries, Eddie types back so fast he should be embarrassed. It's a good photo.

Shar: Thanks. My best friend took it 

PuppetOfMasters: Your friend has a good eye

Shar: I'll let her know

Shar: I'm surprised it took you this long to search me up

Eddie's surprised too. Usually, his curiosity would take over him sooner.

PuppetOfMasters: I tried not to pry. But I had to in case we were gonna meet up one day

Shar: So you were serious?

Shar: I've been wondering if you sweet-talk all your followers like that 

PuppetOfMasters: Only the ones that don't send me dick pics

Shar: I knew holding back would pay off

Eddie snorts at his phone. 

Though I might need one before we meet up, he types. Gotta know what I'm working with

Shar: Right. Of course

Shar: So how would that work?

Eddie hasn't thought about it this far.

PuppetOfMasters: I need to read about OF's policy on collabs. Never had to before, since I work solo. Would probably have to hire you, well, sign a commission/gig contract or something like that. So it's all legal and shit.

Shar, Steve, doesn't answer for a long while, and it might be the end of his devirginizing journey. Well, if the guy doesn't want to make this legal, put his name on some paperwork, then he isn't trustworthy, and that's the end of it.

It's half an hour later and Eddie's bitten all his nails off trying not to follow up with any messages and focus on anything else when an answer finally comes.

Shar: Sorry my friend was bothering me

Shar: this sounds more complicated than I anticipated. So I would be like, a co-creator, then?

PuppetOfMasters: Precisely

Shar: Holy shit okay

Shar: Thought I'd be you know, less involved

Though you could hit it and quit it, huh? Eddie scrunched his nose. What was he getting himself into? Gods.

Shar: If that's what you wanted I'd take it

Eddie shouldn't be blushing over this one. It's like he's throwing the man scraps and he's licking them up.

PuppetOfMasters: Simp

Shar: I am what I am

Shar: With that said, I'm willing to make it work. Do all the paperwork you need

PuppetOfMasters: Doing paperwork just to fuck me? so romantic

Shar: I suck at paperwork so my friend would be doing it anyway

Shar: If that's okay

PuppetOfMasters: I think it's best if someone looks it over, yeah

Eddie hesitates for a moment.

PuppetOfMasters: That friend doesn't happen to be your wife?

Fuck no, comes the immediate response

Shar: I'm perpetually single and she's as gay as they come. 

PuppetOfMasters: Good. Wouldn't want to be the other girl

Shar: If I had the chance you'd be the only one

PuppetOfMasters: Jesus.

Eddie squeezes his legs together unconsciously.

PuppetOfMasters: Stop sweet talking me, I've already agreed to fuck

Shar: But we haven't signed anything yet. Even then, I'll keep sweet-talking you. It's what you deserve. 

For the first time, Eddie thinks he might not survive their meeting. And not because of the possible killer scenario. Thankfully, Steve gets back to business talk.

Shar: How would this work, legal stuff aside? Do you script this?

PuppetOfMasters: Do I look like I script shit?

Shar: I'm not the one with Only Fans

PuppetOfMasters: Fair. I think we could just set up cameras and do whatever we feel like. Then decide together if the footage will be released or not. 

Shar: Sounds reasonable

Shar:When would you want to do this?

When?

Eddie hasn't thought that far. In fact, he felt like he hadn't been thinking for the past couple of days. 

I'm the sole god of my schedule so I'm open to anything, he types evasively.

Shar: I have some time off next month, could fly to wherever you need me

Next month seemed close. Extremely close. Or maybe it wasn't? He never worked with anyone before. Hell, he didn't even have that many friends to meet up with. 

Next month works I guess, he answers despite his nerves.

Shar: Wanna face time before we start the legal work?

His nerves escalate, making his mouth dry. He reminds himself he's done this before, he's on camera all the time. 

PuppetOfMasters: Like, right now?

Shar: Yeah?

PuppetOfMasters: Ok, give me five minutes.

Eddie shoots up, checks himself in the mirror, and finds a good angle for his phone to set up. He lowkey hopes Steve picks up with his dick in the frame so Eddie can block him with a clear conscience and forget about the whole thing. When six minutes from his last message pass, he hits 'call'.

"Hi," Eddie squeaks when the video connects. Steve Harrington's arms are in the frame, crossed on the desk, and toned where he's leaning on them.

"Hi," he greets him with a dazzling smile. 

It is the guy from the photo, so at least he's not being catfished. And he has none of the creepy simp energy Eddie feared. He's just... a guy. It's both a relief and a disappointment. 

"Well?" the guy asks.

"Well, what?" Eddie frowns. 

"Are you disappointed? Am I too old?"

Eddie looks at him properly. His hair is lighter on the sides, but not grey yet, and the video quality doesn't make any wrinkles stand out to him. Maybe some worry lines, crow's feet if he squints. He looks like he keeps in shape, too. Eddie wouldn't call him old. Mature, maybe. A DILF slowly transforming into a Silver Fox. 

"You look fine. Good. You look good. Attractive," Eddie fumbles with his words and barely stops himself from facepalming. This is why he mostly texts.

Steve smirks at him. And holy shit, a dude twice his age smirking at him shouldn't be doing things to his body.

"You sure? You're not gonna block me after we hang up, are you?"

Eddie shakes his head.

"I stand by our plans. You're passing my creep radar so far, but uh..." He scratches his cheek nervously. "I'd like to keep in touch in case, you know. A red flag pops up. I hope you get it."

Steve nods, his expression growing serious.

"Absolutely. We're strangers, after all."

"Yeah." Eddie nods, relieved. It would give him ample time and opportunities to back out.

On the screen, Steve leans more on his arms, closer to the camera. 

"So I think dick assessment is next on the checklist?"

Eddie might not even survive video calls with this guy, after all. 

[nmakii]

Cuteness with Yan! Alastor... Imagine Alastor drinking too much and getting drunk with the reader (the reader hates Alastor, because he is always irritating you)... Well, what no one expected is that Alastor was drunk and drunk reader with these are being cute with each other, as if they were a couple (something they are not).. Well now reader is in her bed with drunk alastor by her side, while reader caresses his ears (it wasn't because a drunk Alastor threatened the reader not to leave him and that she had to cuddle him).. Imagine the two of them waking up the next day in each other's arms, it would be funny

WHISKEY ON ICE, SUNSET AND VINE

— alastor sucks. he sucks even more when he’s drunk cause he acts so weird.

— i drank likeee 6 shots n a beer tday! i wanted more but my friends cut me off thats sucks fam i also kinda puked a bit after i swam

after the battle against heaven, lucifer helped make the hotel much more grander than it ever was; magnificent rooms, beautiful decor— it was like a heaven in hell.

and to celebrate the rebuilding, what better than a few drinks?

as you uncapped another beer, alastor caught your eye— swishing the whiskey in his glass as he talks with niffty. that remaining smile on his face as annoying as ever.

taking a huge chug of your beer, the sour taste lingering on your breath as you glare at him. quite obviously, to add.

“my dear, is something the matter..?” alastor asked, smile seeming strained from his confusion. “shut up, bitch” you huffed and walked away, sitting onto the sofa with angel, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“what’s wrong, toots? ‘ya had too much already? party’s just started like 25 minutes ago…” angel laughed. “noooo… ‘m just a little sleepyyyy…” you whined, gagging slightly at the vomit that threatens to come out.

you take another sip of your beer, settling onto angel’s shoulder properly before your eyes slowly shut.

angel had let you rest for the majority of the party. that is until cherri dared him into doing something for money, something he couldn’t resist.

“yo, smiles! sit in my spot for a bit, will ‘ya?” angel called out to alastor; quite intoxicated already, but not quite showing it. “hmm..? alright then” alastor nodded, taking angel’s spot.

as soon as alastor sat down, you clung back onto him, as if you thought alastor was angel. a little hiccup came from you as you settled your head in his chest.

alastor— taking the opportunity to be close with you, since you had a particular distaste for him, decided to bring you in closer. he had wrapped an arm around you, pulling you onto his lap, close enough to rest his head on your’s.

“‘m sleepy… you… smell super nice” you sighed, bringing some of alastor’s coat closer to your face, breathing in the scent. “mmh… why, thank you, my dear…” he grinned, the static in his voice making his thanks sound disingenuous. “come now, let’s get you to bed.” he laughed as he carried you to your room.

as alastor dropped you on the bed, he fell down with you. “go nowww… small bed, y’know?” you pushed alastor away, settling into your bed. alastor was, unfortunately though, stronger than you. he was able to keep still despite your pushing. “don’t act like that, dear. just sleep on top of me, we’ll fit.” he said, pulling you onto his chest and laying a hand on your head.

as you dozed off again, your hands reached to touch alastor’s fuzzy ears. under your touch, alastor hummed, quite comforted by your warm palm.

you yawned out, covering your mouth as the scent of alcohol reeks from you. alastor laughed at how adorable you seem as he pats your back. “go to bed already. i’m quite sure we— or at least you’ll be hungover tomorrow.”

unbeknownst to the two of you, charlie and angel had gone searching for the two of you. “ahh, where could those two have gone..? and more importantly— how did no one see them leave?!” charlie frowned as she checked the rooms in the hotel.

“calm down, charlie… alastor’s an overlord, rememba’? he could totally protect s/o. there’s really no need to worry…” angel told charlie, comforting her.

“oh, they’re in here!” charlie yelled out as she opened the door to your room. “aww… they’re cuddling! so cute…” charlie cooed at the sight. “ahh, sure…” angel hesitantly agreed.

“c’mon, let’s leave them alone. wouldn’t wanna wake them up…” charlie beckons angel to leave as she quietly closes the door, leaving to return to the party. “tch, can’t wait to see if someone’s getting murdered tomorrow…” angel sarcastically mumbled to himself.

the next morning, you woke up. curtains still closed the way you left it when you settled in, and one pounding headache.

your head reeled as your vision blurred, losing your sense of balance as you rolled off alastor’s chest. wait— alastor’s chest..?

you slapped him awake as you yelled at him. “what the fuck are you doing in my bed?!” you scowled. “hm? ah… i believe we were both drunk, nothing happened, i’m quite sure.” alastor assured you.

“i’m not worried about that, fucker! why the fuck were you being all cuddly?!” you frowned, pushing him out the room. “my dear, i believe it was you who kept touching my ears.” he smugly reminded you. “urgh, get. OUT!” you enunciated as you slammed your door shut.

“alastor!” charlie waved her hand out as she ran towards him. “sooo, i saw you and s/o last nightttt… did you two figure out your differences and become friends now??” charlie asked excitedly. “ah, unfortunately not, dear.” alastor’s eyebrows furrowing with annoyance.

[calypsocolada]

WINNER WINNER | r. zoro

(click here for part two)

synopsis: a stoic swordsman helps you figure out what your type is. authors note: hi :] i like zoro. no other notes. cw: violence, fluff, small bit of angst, clueless!reader, kissin :*, zoroxreader, small bit of sanjixreader wc: 4.4k

--------------------------------------------------------

Zoro’s wooden practice sword swung in an unpredictable arch, you knew you couldn’t avoid it so you turned, letting it smack hard against your shoulder. Pain zaps through your body, the hit more annoying than painful. 

“Ow!” You growled, eyes narrowing. Zoro danced around you, you never knew how light-footed he could be, how quick and precise his sword play was. Zoro was a huge man, he was easily two feet taller than you, built like a damn freight train and somehow still quicker than you. Zoro’s mouth quirked up in a smart ass smirk, his brows raising tauntingly. 

“I thought you said you were getting better.” He jested, obviously trying to get a rise out of you. You took the bait every damn time. You swing your sword in anger. 

“I am!” You yelled, he dodged your assault with ease, playfully hitting your back as you stumbled forwards. You gained your footing and spun back around, swinging again but he just bats it away lazily. 

“Come on, killer, swing with purpose not with anger.” He says listlessly, like he’s bored with this. 

Of course he was bored, he was probably the best swordsman in the world, you were just some idiot pirates daughter. It had been a few months since escaping your fathers crew and although you were one of your fathers best fighters you fought more close combat style, with knives mostly. Swords were long and heavy, especially the ones Zoro used. It was like he made them out of boulders rather than steel. But right now you were using practice swords because you’re sure that if this was a real fight you’d be dead and buried. 

You grip the handle of the sword hard, knuckles turning white. You weren’t used to defeat, it left a sour taste in your mouth. Zoro’s stretched a bit, yawning. The anger always took you over. You were your fathers daughter after all. You pretended to swing the sword again, with clumsy maneuvering and when Zoro went to bat it away you chucked the sword aside, dodging his blade, hitting him square in the stomach with your shoulder. It was meant to take him down but he didn’t budge against you. It was as though you were pushing against a damn tree. You remembered just then how it felt fighting your father, how unmovable he was. You were raising your knee before you could even stop yourself as he knee him square between the legs. A rush of air leaves his lips and the way his body shifts you know you finally caught him off balance. You sweep a leg out from under him and with all the force in your body you shove against him. You both slam against the forest floor, your hips straddling his abs as you jam your forearm down against his neck, successfully pinning him beneath you. He looks up at you with immeasurable annoyance. 

“You’re a dirty fighter.” He huffs, groaning in pain. You nod your head, a proud fact you already knew. 

“You’ve met my father, right?” You jest. This was something new you were learning. Since joining up with Luffy’s crew there were a few things you had to learn. 

They weren’t out to get you. 

You were raised by a killer, his crew were a bunch of killers so naturally you grew up always keeping watch of those around you because the moment you slacked out someone would have their hands around your neck just waiting to extinguish your fire. 

2. You had to soften up and learn to work as a member of a team. 

This one you were still working on. You were alone most of your life, your father never spared you a kind word and sometimes at night you’d lay awake, knowing you were just like him sometimes. You guarded every part of your heart so well that sometimes you could trick yourself into thinking you never had one to begin with. But it beat the day you met Luffy’s crew. They saved you, even when you were good, they knew who and where’d you’d come from and still accepted you for who you were. That meant to you that you had to change. If you wanted to stay a member of this crew you had to let them in. You couldn’t push them away because one bad day would come and they’d stay away. You didn’t think you could survive that. Knowing that there was warmth in this world that you turned cold. 

3. Lastly, how to protect someone. 

You could protect yourself just fine because you’d been left behind in wakes your entire life. But you wouldn’t do that to them. You’d stay and fight because that’s what they did for you. You weren’t just looking out for yourself anymore, you had people, possibly a family, it’d take the devil himself to pull that from your grip. 

“Yeah I met him, he’s an asshole, like you.” Zoro grunts, his pinned hands escaping from your fingers as he turns the tide, swinging you to your back, pressing you into the dirt. You’re not sure where his sword came from but the wooden edge of it was pressed gently against your throat. He beat you. You groaned out a sigh as he cocked his head to the side. 

“I had you.” You fume as he purses his lips, he’s heavy against you, it feels like ten men rather than one. 

“For a second.”

“That’s all a killer needs.” You dared. He must’ve seen that look in your eyes before because he presses the sword ever closer to your neck, but not hard enough to actually hurt. 

“We’re done for today.” He says and suddenly his weight is lifted off you and you feel as though you could finally breathe again. You didn’t know you were holding your breath. Zoro extends a hand to you, narrowing his eyes. “No funny business, I’m hungry.” He warns because for someone who’s only known you for a few months he knows you pretty damn well. Knew that look in your eye, that you would take his hand and end up trying to pin him beneath you again. He knew you hated to lose. You took his hand and did nothing of the sort because you were hungry too. He pulled you to your feet with ease and kept hold of your hand for a second as he spoke. “You’re a good fighter, don’t give up on practicing.” He says and the look in his eye is intense, he meant it. He lets your hand go and bends to grab the practice sword that you tossed aside. 

“I don’t see the point in it, I fight better close.” 

“You can fight better any way you choose. You master the sword and you give yourself more options.” He says, tossing it to you, you catch it with ease.

“More options?”

“To survive. You want that don’t you?” He asks over his shoulder, walking back towards the camp that the crew had set up near the beach. You never thought of it like that before. You learned how to fight because your father needed someone unassuming to kill. Who’s more unassuming than a young girl? You always fought to kill, to end lives, you never cared much for your own. Who could care for a killer after all? Zoro slowed, tossing a glance over his shoulder at you after you took too long to answer.

“Of course I want that.” But your words sounded hollow. There was still that nagging voice of your fathers. There was only so many times someone you looked up to could call you worthless before you started to believe it. It was ingrained in you. To live but not feel worthy of life. Maybe you did want to live, but that didn’t mean you felt like you deserved to. You’d done wrong your entire life, killed and followed in the footsteps of someone you knew was bad. Didn’t that make you guilty of something? 

Zoro’s eyes dissected you, that face you made and the tone of your voice. He was a smart man and for all his faux uninterested stare he read you like a damn book. Like he’d cracked open your mind and read your innermost secrets. It was strange, having someone who you couldn’t fool. Someone who could look at you and call bullshit. 

“Do you just want to survive for the sake of others or for yourself?” He asked, slowing to a stop. Crickets chirped around you, wind picking up, swaying the leaves of the trees gently. You stopped too, mindlessly turning the practice sword over in your hands. 

“Is that a trick question?” You asked and watched him shake his head. You turn the question over in your head. “Surviving for yourself is quite selfish right?” 

“Not necessarily.” He breathes out, walking and plopping down listlessly on a stump, he stretches out his legs. “You charge into things head on, you don’t wait for others to act.”

“That’s a good thing.” You cross your arms defensively. “How else would you catch enemies by surprise?”

“By others I meant your crew. When you charge into things you could end up getting hurt.” He countered, you kick at a raised root and toss your head back a bit dramatically. 

“But if I kill the bad guys first you guys have nothing to worry about.” 

“We’d still worry about you.”

“Why?” You questioned as though someone worrying about you was way out of the realm of possibility. 

“Because you aren’t a martyr, we don’t need you throwing yourself on the knife.” Zoro argues, it’s one of the first times he seems interested in what he’s talking about. Passionate even. “I know what you’re used to. That’s why I wanted to train you.”

“So I can fight with a long blade instead of a short one?” You quipped. 

“So you can fight next to me.” He says as though you should’ve known. You look up from the ground over to him. He has this strange look in his eyes, the kind of strange look Sanji gave you sometimes, though Sanji looked at every girl like that. But not Zoro, the man was inexpressive usually. 

“Fight next to you?” You echo, as if trying the words out loud would give them a different meaning. Zoro nods his head. 

“Wouldn’t it be nice? Not having to wonder who has your back?” He asks. You look at him, something stirring inside you. 

“Is that what you want?” You start. “Someone who can keep up with you?” 

He nods his head. 

“Don’t you?” You ponder it for a moment. 

“I guess, yeah.” You say softly. “I feel like I keep up with you just fine.”

“You could be better.” Zoro jests, pushing off the stump he sat on.  

“I took you down, big man.” You growl, jogging to catch up with him as the sun starts to set. 

“You cheated.”

“I was being… resourceful.” You said and heard Zoro laugh, a warm laugh coming from his chest. You never heard him laugh before, probably in the same way he’d never heard you laugh. You both were somewhat serious types. 

“Sure, let’s call it that.” He intones. 

Back at the campsite the first person to greet you and Zoro was Sanji. Ever since landing on this island Sanji had been acting somewhat differently to Zoro, almost colder. You had no idea what that was about and honestly you didn’t care, not presently because they always bickered anyways. 

“There you guys are!” Sanji all but growls, shooting dagger at Zoro. “We’ve been waiting for you.” He says, giving you a kind smile.

“We didn’t mean to keep you guys, you could’ve eaten.” You say as Sanji shakes his head, guiding you with a gentle hand on your back towards the food. 

“Nonsense, it was no trouble.” Sanji croons as you look towards the rest of the crew. Luffy has his hands crossed against his chest tightly, his face scrunched in annoyance. 

“It was a little trouble.” Luffy grumbles as Sanji shoots daggers at him. You sit down, Sanji occupying the seat next to you as Zoro plops down in the sand across from you. It's quiet as everyone digs into their food. 

“How is it?” Sanji asks, eyes watching you. You’d just filled your mouthful, unable to answer right at that moment.

“It’s a little salty.” Usopp chided as Sanji hurled a dinner roll at him.

“I wasn’t asking you!” Sanji ranted, the roll hitting Usopp square between the eyes. You and Luffy both snort in laughter. You laugh, almost choking on your food which serves to make you two laugh even harder. Sanji turns to you with a worried expression, lightly hitting your back as you're able to swallow your food properly. You bite your lip to keep from laughing as you give Sanji a small smile. 

“It tastes good, Sanji, thank you.” You say and Sanji practically melts. 

“Usopp’s right,” Zoro starts, a mischievous look in his eyes. “It’s a bit salty.” Sanji’s eyes turn to slits as he grabs another roll, hucking it at Zoro who catches it with ease, grinning before taking a bite out of it. 

“I don’t care what you think because my dear Y/n likes it.” Sanji proclaimed, turning to you. “Would you like some more, dear?”

“Sure.” You shrug as he practically stumbles over himself to grab you more. Your eyes meet with Zoro’s, he gives you a wink and you roll your eyes. Zoro liked messing with Sanji and most of the time it was pretty funny. Sanji took a big liking to you and Zoro liked to tease him about it. You weren’t sure what it was that Sanji liked about you but he was always quick to give you anything you asked for. Sanji fills your plate and as the night winds down Luffy, Nami and Usopp take off for bed. 

You sit by the fire next to Sanji, your legs pulled to your chest as he leans back, eyes staring at the stars. It’s quiet, just the sound of the fire crackling and the waves of water crashing nearby. Your eyes watch the fire as it slowly lulls you into comfort. Suddenly a blanket is placed over your shoulders as you blink, eyes watering. You turn to see Zoro as he plops down near you. You silently thank him, pulling the covers closer to your chest, shielded from the cold. Something burning hotter was the look you caught sight of from Sanji, he looked as though he was seconds away from challenging Zoro to a duel. But when he noticed you his face morphed into a smile again. 

“Is a measly blanket gonna be enough to keep you warm, my dear?” Sanji asks. “I could scoot closer to you?” He offers.

“The blanket’s good.” You answer, unaware of the implications. Zoro snorts beside you, amused at something you weren’t sure of. 

“Do you have something to add, Zoro?” Sanji hisses as Zoro, face unphased as he shrugs his shoulders. 

“Sanji?” You start.

“Yes, dear?” He asks, voice all soft, way different from the tone he was using a second ago. 

“Did Zoro do something to make you angry?” You ask, making Zoro snort again. Sanji shakes his head.

“Nothing more than usual, dear, no need to worry.” He says and you nod your head, satisfied with that answer, eyes sliding back towards the fire. “Could I ask you something?”

“Hmm?” You hum, watching the flames flicker and dance. 

“What’s your type?” He asks. Zoro doesn’t snort this time, he fully laughs, gaining an angry stare from Sanji. “Shut your mouth you damn idiot!” Sanji yells across the fire at Zoro. “You’re ruining the moment!”

“My type of what?” You ask cluelessly. Zoro can’t help but laugh even more. You look over at him, confused but he’s laughing so hard his eyes are closed. You look back at Sanji.

“Ignore that damn fool, dear. Your type in a partner.” He explains. 

“Type in a partner?” You echo, Zoro slowly quiets down next to you. Sanji nods his head. You purse your lips, thinking. You and Zoro fought pretty well together the few times you had to, it was just mere hours ago that he told you he liked the idea of fighting with you and you had to admit you didn’t mind that also. “I guess Zoro would be my type.” You say, completely unaware of the havoc you just caused. Sanji clamps a hand to his chest dramatically over his heart. You look at Zoro, his cheeks blushing a moment before he begins a fit of laughter all over again. Understanding the miscommunication before you and Sanji do. 

“You hear that, Sanji? I’m her type.” Zoro boasts jokingly, throwing an arm around your shoulders, loving the effect it was having on Sanji. Sanji looked like a deflated balloon. Sanji sinks back into the sand as you cock your head, confused. Zoro gives your shoulder a small squeeze as you look back over at him. “He meant romantic partner.” He whispers just to you. Your eyebrows raise, mouthing the word ‘oh’.

“I’m sorry, Sanji, I thought you meant fighting partner.” You corrected and Sanji shot back up, hopefulness on his face again.

“It’s okay, dear, you scared me there.” Sanji sighs wistfully, running a hand through his hair. Zoro’s arm moves away from you as you look back at him. 

“Keep it there.” You order softly. “I was getting warm.” Zoro’s brows raise in surprise but he does as you ask, even scooting a bit closer to you. When you look back at Sanji his jaw is practically touching the sand. “What?” You ask innocently, he shuts his mouth instantly, shaking his head. 

“N-nothing.” He turns away, kicking sand at the fire. You feel Zoro laugh softly. You had no idea what sort of nonverbal conversation these two were having and honestly you didn’t care to know. You close your eyes, leaning into Zoro’s warmth. Romantic partner. You were thinking about it now because you’d never thought about it before. There was no love where you came from, no positive role models, no romantic tension. That stuff was way out of your realm of understanding.

“How do you know your type?” You ask, turning to look at Sanji. His eyes meet yours, his eyes glancing at Zoro’s arm around your shoulders then back to you. 

“That's a hard one to explain.” He says, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Is it something you just know?” You ask and Sanji nods his head. 

“More or less, yeah,” Suddenly he lets out a big yawn, stretching. “Boy am I beat. Are you tired?” He asks you.

“Not really.” You say and watch as he pouts. 

“Maybe you should head off to bed then.” Zoro says. Sanji’s eyes glare his way as he grumbles, pushing up from the sand and dusting himself off. 

“Night,” He says sharply, trudging across the sand back towards the ship. You watch him go. 

“He is so strange.” You whisper, earning a warm laugh from Zoro. 

“You're clueless, you know that.” He remarked with another soft laugh. You turn to look at him.

“Why?” You ask, his eyes slide to yours. 

“He likes you, killer, a lot.” Zoro explains. You furrow your brows, you already knew he liked you, he treated you very kindly. “And I know what you're thinking. It’s not that kind of like.”

“What other kind is there?” This garners another laugh. “Stop laughing at me!”

“I’m sorry,” Zoro chuckles, smiling warmly. “He likes you… romantically.” He emphasizes and suddenly everything starts falling into place in your mind. He was always going out of his way for you, giving you extra food, following you around like a lost puppy, practically begging for your attention. 

“Hm.” You hum, turning back to look at the fire. 

“Hm?” Zoro echoes. “You sound mildly uninterested.”

“Eh, I don’t- I guess I don’t understand.”

“Which part?”

“Why would he like me? That makes no sense.” You say and for a moment Zoro is quiet, you turn to look at him, his cheeks pink, probably from the heat of the fire you guessed. 

“Do you really want me to answer that?” He asks. And when you just look at him quizzically he pities you a bit. He inhales, sighing. “You do know you're gorgeous right?” He asks as though you did know that. That was not what you were expecting him to say. You can’t remember the last time someone referred to you in a positive connotation. 

“I-- I don’t think so.” You say, your cheeks feel hot under Zoro’s stare, you feel slightly nervous suddenly, but not a bad nervous, you're not really sure how to explain it. It’s completely new to you.

“Well you are. And you're strong, men love strong women.” Zoro goes on, he’s leaning back slightly, his arm still around you as he gazes up at the stars. You bite your lip, your mouth feels dry. Were you getting sick or something? 

“Do you?”

“Hell yeah I do, I’m not an idiot.” He says, amused. You nod your head. 

“Hm.” You say and he looks at you with that amused expression. “But what does him liking me have to do with you? He looked angry with you all night?” You ask, piecing things together in your mind.

“He’s jealous, killer.” He says. 

“Jealous, huh…” You trail off. “Because you're a good partner?” You ask and he scoffs a laugh, shaking his head.

“Sure, let's go with that.” He intones. You lay your head back down on his shoulder, settling against him. You always found your way to Zoro, you two had grown pretty close in the past few weeks. He was a calming presence, one you always seeked out. You liked sitting near him, talking with him and training with him. You liked when he talked and when he looked at you. It was strange, you’d never felt that way before meeting him. Never let your guard down but he just felt like a calming, safe presence to you. 

“What’s your type?” You ask and you feel Zoro tense up slightly, you turn slightly to look up at him. “Something wrong?”

“No, nothings wrong.” He says, recovering smoothly. “Are we talking about fighting partners?” He jokes, earning a laugh from you.

“Apparently not.” You answer. Waiting for a reply. Zoro’s arm slightly tightens around you, pulling you just a bit closer as he fixes the cover that had fallen off your shoulder. 

“I think I might keep that a mystery.” He answers as you huff out a laugh. 

“Keep your secrets then.” You say, letting your eyes drift closed. Sanji’s words float back into your mind, when you asked if liking someone was just something that you knew and he said more or less. It was something you just knew? That was harder to understand for you. “I think I’d like someone who I feel safe with.” You find yourself saying aloud as you try and imagine what that means, you were still kind of getting fighting partner mixed up with a romantic partner because both options you felt you needed someone you could trust.

“That’s a good thing to look out for, killer.” He says softly. You think hard. You felt safe with Zoro, you felt comfortable enough to rest against him. You couldn’t see yourself doing that with Sanji although you trusted him you didn’t want to be that close. Your mind was reeling now. So you liked being close to Zoro? Did that mean anything or nothing at all? You squeezed your eyes shut.

“Romance is confusing.” You find yourself saying. Zoro chuckles, nodding his head.

“Damn straight.” You lift up slightly as he turns to meet your eyes.

“How do you know you know, you know?” You ask as Zoro’s brows raise.

“I don’t know?” He asks as you purse your lips. 

“Sanji said your type was just something you knew,” You puzzled. 

“Killer, I think you may be overthinking it.” Zoro says. 

“What if you think you like someone but you're not completely sure?” You ask as Zoro hums slightly, thinking up an answer for you. 

“I guess- I guess you could kiss them.” He offers and you nod your head, leaning forwards to press a quick, searching kiss to Zoro’s lips. For someone so rough around the edges his lips are surprisingly soft against yours, cold from the night time wind. When you pull back Zoro’s eyes are closed, his cheeks as red as cherries. He slowly opens his eyes, he’s stunned to say the least. 

“I’ve never kissed someone before.” You say, eyes glancing back down at his lips. You kissed him too quickly to tell if anything came from it. “I’m gonna try again.” You say and he stammers but doesn’t object as you scoot closer and lean to press your lips back against his. You leave them there for a moment. You’d seen people kiss before but trying it now you were completely unsure of the correct way to do it. You feel something bloom but you're pulling away before you can put meaning to it. “I suck at this. You do it.” You say as Zoro finally finds his words. 

“You kissed me.” He says shocked and you nod your head. 

“It was bad, I don’t know what I’m doing. This is like training with a sword all over again.” You grumble, pouting and crossing your arms.

“You just need a good instructor.” Zoro’s hand slides up from your shoulder to your cheek, moving your face to face him. You have no time to access the way your stomach bottoms out at that before he’s bringing you flush against his lips this time in a delicate embrace. His fingers tangled in your hair, a shock zaps through you at the contact. Zoro knew exactly what he was doing, he was skilled in more ways than fighting it seemed. You burned all over, your breath catching in your throat. Sanji was right, you knew right then. Right as he pulled you impossibly closer and kissed you with fervor and confidence. When he pulled back your lips chased after him slightly as you stopped yourself. You swallowed dryly. 

“Was that good for you?” He asks, his voice all breathy and hoarse. 

“Uh huh.” You exhale. It's quiet for a beat. “I think,” you start, clearing your throat. “I think maybe you should try again.” You whisper and you don’t have to say anything else because Zoro understands. That and he’s kissing you before you can utter another word.                         

[corrodedbisexual]

In vino veritas

Steddie | T | ~2.4k | AO3 link

Written for @steddie-week Day 6: dizzy | drunken confessions

Featuring: Fluff and Humor, Post-Stranger Things 4 Vol. 2, AU - Everyone Lives, Drinking & Talking, Drunken Confessions, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Has a Crush on Eddie Munson, Pining, Requited Love, Eddie Munson is a Mess, Good Friend Robin Buckley, First Kiss, Idiots in Love, POV Eddie Munson

Eddie sighs wistfully. “Every day that goes by and I don’t ruin everything by kissing that boy stupid. My willpower is that of some finest mithril from the depths of Khazad-dûm.” Robin is silent for a long moment, just enough for Eddie to catch up with whatever just tumbled out of his mouth. Okay, so his willpower might be ironclad, but his brain-to-mouth filter isn’t doing so well right now, apparently. *** OR: Eddie gets drunk and accidentally spills his secret to Robin. He doesn't, of course, expect Steve to overhear.

Eddie’s never been a wine person. Not that he’s some sort of alcohol snob; it was just never his drink of choice. So when wine is what’s on offer for movie night at Steve’s place with him and Robin, of course he partakes, taking large gulps out of the bottle they pass back and forth, not bothering with glasses.

The first few sips taste so sour he scrunches his mouth like he bit on a lemon. But gradually, the taste grows on him, along with the pleasant tingle in his mouth. And the buzz creeps up on him slowly, making his body all warm and gelatinous, slowly sliding deeper into the couch cushions and, incidentally, against the firm shoulder to his right.

Probably not a good idea, he eventually decides, sitting up straighter under the pretense of grabbing something to munch on. All the bowls and plates on the table, however, are empty by now.

“We’re out of snacks,” Eddie announces, grabbing the remote to hit pause on the movie and turning to Steve.

“Well, what are you looking at me for?” Steve asks, the annoyance in his voice clearly fake and laced with amusement. “You know where the kitchen is.”

Eddie pouts. “I cannot possibly make it to the kitchen. I’m so weak, Stevie.” He feigns sickliness, flinging the back of his hand to his forehead like a fainting damsel as he slides down the couch, then very dramatically collapses to the floor. “Look at me, I cannot even stand! Must be all those demobat bites, making me so powerless.”

“You’re seriously gonna keep using that. After four months.” Steve raises his eyebrows, failing to conceal a glint of amusement as he turns to Robin and gestures at the heap of Eddie’s body on the floor. “Can you believe this?” But, to Eddie’s silent triumph, he’s already standing, nudging at Eddie’s arm in his way with a foot before he steps over and glances down at him. “What do you want, chips? Popcorn?”

“Actually…” Eddie taps his lips with a forefinger. “Could you make some more of those delicious little crackers? With cream cheese and bologna?” He bats his eyelashes.

“Unbelievable,” Steve shakes his head with a poorly contained smile.

“Please, I’m at death’s door here!” Eddie grabs onto Steve’s leg, eyes comically wide, and croaks like a man stranded in a desert. “Those are my only hope.”

“Jesus Christ.” Steve rolls his eyes and tries to take a step, dragging Eddie along the floor with him. “Are you gonna let me go?” He asks, grinning down at Eddie; Eddie relinquishes his hold on the boy’s leg, grinning back.

“Thanks, Stevie, you’re a lifesaver!”

He crawls a little to the side so the couch isn’t in the way of watching Steve leave in those wonderfully tiny shorts. Then, he scrambles to crawl back onto the cushions, collapsing next to Robin, who’s watching him with her eyebrows up to her hairline.

“Wow,” she deadpans. “How do you keep doing this?”

“I know, right?” Eddie steals the bottle from her and takes another sip, then sighs wistfully. “Every day that goes by and I don’t ruin everything by kissing that boy stupid. My willpower is that of some finest mithril from the depths of Khazad-dûm.”

Robin is silent for a long moment, just enough for Eddie to catch up with whatever just tumbled out of his mouth. Okay, so his willpower might be ironclad, but his brain-to-mouth filter isn’t doing so well right now, apparently.

He glances sheepishly between the wine bottles, the empty one on the coffee table and the one in his hand, a few remaining mouthfuls sloshing at the bottom of it. Shit, how much of all that did he drink himself? That’s the trouble with sharing like they’ve been; kind of hard to keep track. 

“That’s… not what I was referring to, but… Eddie, you like Steve?”

Read on AO3 | Divider credit

[miioouu]

I think about Camgirl x soap….maybe part 2??

Haha, finally done with university so now i have all the time in the world to think and drool over hot fictional men with you all!!! Here’s part one of this. TW: smut, phone sex, female reader WC: 950 

Weeks pass since you and your favourite fan started talking. Although you've learned a bit about him, never his name “Call me Soap, kitten. Sounds hot when you do” And now you don't have to wonder what he sounds like. If you think his comments in the chat are lewd, you're not ready for the voice messages he leaves you past midnight. 

Breathy whispers, low groans and whines; he told you he has to keep quiet, he shares a room with his colleagues, and yet, he can't help it, it's become a routine for the both of you now. You wait for your screen to light up, a giddy smile on your face when you press the play button “Thought ‘bout you all day long bonnie. Sucked at practice today, my aim’s shitty because of you now, might lose my job because of you, sweet kitty” He always starts the blaming, making you roll your eyes as you bite your lip, waiting in anticipation for what's coming next. The sound of his sheets being shifted under his weight, he hisses when the bed creaks a little too loudly, it makes you giggle the way he blames you some more. “But you'd like that, eh? If I lost my job? You'd love it, all my attention would be on you, not like it's not now…you're always on my mind, those pretty tits of yours. Gosh those perky nipples, wanna suck on ‘em'' His breathing becomes heavy, and so does yours. It doesn't take a genius to know that he's slipping his hand under his boxers, the sound of the elastic softly smacking against his skin is an obvious indicator, and you can't help but join him. “Want my hands all over you, pretty girl. I know you want it too, yeah? So soft I bet. So plush, just want to bite you, and leave my mark on ya.” 

And he blames you again “So far away from me. If you were here, it would be your hand wrapped around my cock, kitty. And if I’m lucky enough maybe it would be your mouth, yeah?” He takes in a sharp breath, and so do you. You exhale shakily as your fingers dip under your cotton panties, sucking your teeth at how wet you are, maybe you should send him a picture? He deserves it after all. The tip of your digits brushing against your twitching clit, and you huff, imagining, and being sure that his hands would feel a lot better; rough and calloused against your soft skin, it would feel like heaven. “Fuck, I can already picture it, bonnie. Those sweet lips of yours, you know I love it when you put on that red lipstick too. Can you imagine it, how it would leave a pretty ring around my dick? So pretty, all yours to taste too.” He hums, the sound of his slick can be faintly heard in the background of the voice message. You drooled at the thought, making you think about how he’d taste. Salty, a little sour maybe? Maybe even with a hint of sweetness, the guy is in shape and cares about his health. If not for the military, for you; the pride that swells in his chest whenever you mention how badly you want to bite his arm, how much you need to lick on his abs. The image alone flusters you. You groan as you push your panties down, they frustrate you as you keep drawing tight circles against your bundle of nerves, trying to match his pace. You know how he likes it too, he’s spoken about it before; “Slow kitty… I like the build up. Slow and nice, not too tightly. And then my mind starts to wander, to you and that silk blue set, and I go crazy. I can’t help it, ok? Wanna know how tight you’d be around me.” 

“Or maybe, if the Gods are on my side, I can feel that pretty cunny of yours, eh? What do you say? I think she’d love me. God, kitty, I wanna stretch you out. Wanna make you cry on it, wanna make you bounce on it, wanna make you cream on it. Gosh kitty, I bet you’d love it. I’d fuck you so good, I promise you I will, so good you’d forget about those silicon toys of yours, they can’t compare. I’ll make it so you can’t think about anyone but me, no one will ever make you feel the way I’ll make you feel sweetheart.”  

His voice is rough and breathless, like he’s slowly descending to madness, slowly ascending to heaven. The rest of his message is the echoing of his groans and shallow breaths, it’s like he’s biting his lip to not let out a too loud noise. He spits on his sensitive tip, letting if ooze down his length and the thought of it alone is making your arch your back. He’s so good at it, he should’ve been the one on the screen, he’d make millions from his voice and heavy accent alone. It’s the repeating whispers of your name that gave him away and pushed you over the edge. You moan out his ‘name’ again, you let it roll out your tongue like a prayer, Goodness, you needed him badly too. He deserves a reward no? The man that got you obsessed and delusional, he deserves a picture of your drenched fingers pulled apart and connected with your juices. He also deserves that last message you sent before completely shutting off your phone to mellow down your excitement and anxiety “Maybe you will feel ‘that pretty cunny’ soon, mmm? What do you think?”

[doki-doki-imagines]

tw: Smut, scent kink, pee mention, masturbation (m), the reader wears panties but no pronouns are used.

author notes: This is what happens when I wake up and first thing I see is @boyardee-znuts asking for desperate 'Tsumu. I just upped the ante LOL. Hope to go back to normal writings after I finish my exams.

‘Fuck you and your cookie game’ Atsumu thinks while his right hand desperately strokes his hard cock a pair of your used panties adding a new texture to this pitiful experience.

How does he know he looks pitiful? Well, the expression on your face while you look at him leaves no room for doubts.

If you just accepted to help him out now he wouldn’t look like a loser, he wouldn’t have to dig in your dirty laundry to find two panties, like one of those sick perverts, he wouldn’t have ended up looking like this.

The blonde tried at first to look irresistible, he wanted to lure you into joining him after all, you would have fallen for his charming way in…5 minutes? Atsumu did his calculations.

So sad he is so bad at math.

Not only you didn’t even glance at him, but his mind also numbed just after sniffing the scent in your panties. He soon licked the cotton of your panties where he could slightly taste your essence and something more…sour? Is this piss? And why is it turning him on so much?

Atsumu’s head stops thinking, letting this whirlwind of degeneracy engulf him; if doing 10 makes you go to hell then why not do 1000?

He frees his cock from his shorts, not even bothering to pull them off completely, to stroke his aching cock with another pair of your used panties, his hands try to match the rhythm of his tongue, hot muscle still licking up and down the wet cotton, in the desperate search of your flavor that always send a tickle down his spine and make his hips snap up. If only you were really sitting on his face right now, thighs trembling while his fingers leave indents in them, Atsumu is sure that he’d be able to make you mewl with pleasure.

Atsumu pushes his pinkish sweatshirt in his mouth, teeth keeping it up as if his life depended on it. Maybe if he shows his abs, now covered in a thin layer of sweat your willpower will crumble. He opens his eyes, his lashes a bit sticky from newly formed tears, and what he sees?

You are looking at him. Too bad that the disinterest is dripping from your face.

That’s how he finds himself at the starting point, a too-loud moan escaping his throat, reddish lips hanging open, sweatshirt now crumpled and wet sticking on his chest, some of his blonde curls stick on his forehead, but Atsumu doesn’t move them away, hands too busy either stroking his cock or touching his hard nipples.

“You look like a real whore ‘Tsumu.”

“Ah-“ You finally step closer to him, but still out of reach. “Please h-help me” His doe-eyes shining for all the tears spilling on his reddened cheeks, he sits lower on his armchair so he can get his hips near you, each thrust more desperate, his dick twitching begging for your attention.

“I never took you for the begging type.” Your voice is so cold and disinterested, your disappointment only excites him more.

“Please, please-“ A louder moan reverberates in his living room, the music from your game dulled long ago.

“You are really a pathetic guy.” You reply, your feet pushing against his hard-on, making your boyfriend groan in pleasure. “Really, really pathetic” you slowly say, never leaving your position, keeping him afar.

“Y-Yes I am! I’m just r-really disgusting boy.” He bucks his hip on your feet, the rhythm is random and you can sense his orgasm approaching.

So you just step on it harder, your heel pushing hard at the base of his cock.

Seems like it was the right decision, Atsumu’s eyes roll back, and his tongue lolls out staining his face even more with drool. His dick twitches one last time, cum stains both his abdomen and his sweatshirt, his red tip still covered in little globes of cum.

 “Are you fine dear?” You finally get closer to him, you remove your feet and pat his head, brushing away the blonde curls to look at him better.

“Do you need something? Water? A warm bath?” Your voice is warm and soothing this time, helping him come back to Earth after the intense orgasm.

He looks at you, eyes still a bit misty, and gulps before talking “Can we cuddle?” His voice is broken and rough. You smile, your hands softly caressing his chin “Yes, dear, let me pick a napkin before.”

You clean him up the best you can before joining him on the armchair, that cracks from the new added weight.

A few minutes of silence go by, some sweet kisses exchanged but nothing more, his breath and heartbeat still.

“You don’t think I’m pathetic, right?” Atsumu looks at you, a smirk gracing his face.

…

“Hey, hey, (Y/n) answer me- where are you going, hey!”

Some things are better left unanswered.

[dirty-bosmer]

First WIP of the Year! Thanks for all the tags this week and last: @thequeenofthewinter @skyrim-forever @elavoria @ladytanithia @lucien-lachance @nuwanders @rainpebble3 @chennnington

From the The Illusionist (sorry for slow updates the writers block is real 😅). A tense convo between Mephala and Nim:

“No, blood will flow as surely as the spinning wheel revolves. Such is the cycle. That you choose to press on aimlessly, widdershins, is of no consequence to Me. Not anymore. I offered you sanctuary, an anchor, a chance to learn what glory could be gained in sacrifice, and instead you clung to this bland mortal life as if it could save you from your nature. Dear Brother, how fruitlessly you toil, trying to keep yourself concealed. So lean you’ve grown in your denial that it’s almost laughable to watch you. Warping, twisting, draining all those caught in your web as if their disfigurement could make your ugliness anymore bearable. As if picking at their threads could ever grant you the power to weave something greater than My tapestry.” Nim rubbed at her nose with the back of her hand, wiped whatever came out on her blouse. “Alright,” she said, “Now can you open the door, or is there more you wish to say? I understand you’re quite upset, maybe feeling a bit cheated in all this. Jealous even, given the circumstances, and while not my intention, I—” “Jealous!” The laugh that bubbled up from that bottomless well of Mephala’s voice elicited a sour taste in Nim’s mouth and the desperate urge to spit. “You poor, misguided Brother of Mine. Did you think to leave here a hero, right what was never wrong? You have taken nothing from Me that I won’t get back ten-fold.” “Okay then. One day I’m sure we’ll look back on all this and laugh.” She gestured again to the door. “So…” “Blind as a worm yet not half as supple.” Mephala’s scoff hung heavy with disgust. “One day you will learn that the end and the beginning are one and the same whether you fork left or fork right. Haven’t you realized by now that every step you take in this world serves the same function? All you’ve done is drag the wheel along another turn.” Whether Mephala’s magic had receded or Nim had found a means to dislocate, she couldn’t say, but the sticky mantle on her skin had lifted, leaving only the weight of the sanctuary’s damp cold. Time elongated, ticked by, chewed at her heels like famished rats gnawing at wallpaper paste, and Nim found herself staring again at the Black Door, staring hard, willing herself to find some message, some meaning in the negative space of the stone relief. Reliving the moment when it all went wrong, when she had become irrevocably loosened from the woman she’d imagined herself to be, she found it. There chiseled upon the door was a vision of the future— a warning or a promise to all those who entered— one fate had since collected upon. How many times had she passed through and refused to consider it in earnest? There, an example for all those who called this place home that the blood of the covenant flowed only one way, and the beating heart it supplied had never been her own.

Tagging forward: @atypicalacademic @memaidraws @justafoxhound @inkysqueed @wispstalk @throughtrialbyfire @viss-and-pinegar @kookaburra1701 @paraparadigm

[roosterforme]

Dilf Bradley or Jake get word that the other class room parents are walking all over their wife, so they volunteer for the next event and put a few people in their place? (Literally thinking of all the crazy PTA moms that yelled at me for stupid stuff over the years)

Taylor! Thanks so much for sending this ask! I hope this is what you were looking for...

This is for my Dagger DILFs 3k party!

You cried as you drove home. You had been doing this after every PTA meeting since you got pregnant with your third child. Bradley had seen you crying after the meeting last month, so you were trying to wipe your tears as you walked into your house.

"Hi, Mommy!" your two sons and Bradley all sang when you walked into the living room. Bradley was holding your six month old daughter and feeding her a bottle. Everyone was dressed in pajamas and ready for bed.

You figured Bradley could tell you were upset by the way he took care of the bedtime routine and let you have some time to yourself. You had gained so much weight during your last pregnancy, and you hadn't been able to lose all of it yet. The other thin, beautiful moms already didn't like you for whatever reason, but now they had ammunition to use against you.

And tonight, you heard three of them talking about how they couldn't understand how your handsome husband could possibly want to have sex with you.

When Bradley walked into your bedroom to see you curled up in bed in his oversized shirt, he climbed in next to you and pulled you into his arms. "What happened, baby?" he asked as he kissed the side of your neck.

A small sob escaped you as you said, "They all call me fat behind my back within earshot. And tonight they said they can't understand how you'd want to sleep with me."

You tried to turn away from him, but he pulled you closer. "Hey, hey, hey. You're the only one I want! You're mine. You're my wife. You gave me three perfect kids, and I love you."

You stopped fighting him and just curled up against his warm, strong body as he whispered how he thought you were beautiful and perfect. Then you were finally able to doze off to sleep.

The following month, Bradley insisted on joining you for the meeting while Mav and Penny stayed with the kids.

"Are those the mean moms?" he asked you softly, rubbing his thumb along your cheek.

"Yes. And of course they're all checking you out," you said with a little huff.

But your husband just made a sour face. "None of them are even close to as gorgeous as you are. No contest, baby."

"Bradley," you muttered with an eyeroll.

But he was already clearing his throat and loudly saying, "Baby, how much longer is this thing?" He ran his hands down your sides to your hips and pulled you against him. "You look so delicious, I just want to get you home and taste you. Put my mouth all over you."

You just bit your lip and looked up at him as all the rude moms scurried away.

"Let's just leave early?" you suggested. And without another word he scooped you up and carried you to the Bronco.

[heymacy]

hello pals! it's time for a (very late) weekly tag game wednesday! (yes, it's still wednesday in chicago!) i was tagged by @energievie, @deedala, @palepinkgoat, @juliakayyy, & @jrooc - thanks pals!

about you

name: macy

age: thirty and flirty and surviving

star sign: cancer

your first language: english, the dumbest language

second language: i can take your coffee order in perfect spanish and i think that's my biggest accomplishment in the last few years

favorite lip product: aquaphor!

the best food dish you can make without a recipe: ........boxed mac and cheese

if you drink tea, what kind?: sleepytime tea, peppermint, and earl gray (depending on the time of day)

if you drink coffee, what roast do you usually get?: i drink cold brew which i think is technically a medium roast? ah shit, i'm totally getting fired

favorite thing to watch on youtube right now: i almost exclusively use YouTube for ASMR videos

favorite thing to watch on youtube in 2012: jenna marbles i miss you every fucking day

favorite item of clothing right now: a Whidbey Island, WA sweatshirt that i magically found at a thrift store here in Chicago! the world is so small and i miss home!

favorite item of clothing in 2012: my VS PINK leggings, the kind with the thick ass waistband, y'all remember those? mine were black and baby pink

fandom

three movies you recommend: i'll give y'all my letterboxd top four: Some Like It Hot, Portrait of a Lady on Fire, Pride and Prejudice (2005) and Moonrise Kingdom

your favorite concert: CHAPPELL ROAN!

have you ever unfollowed someone over a fandom opinion? unfollowed? babygirl this is a blocking household

have you ever left a fandom because of the fans? not because of the fans, no. i keep my circles pretty tight and use the block button liberally. i only leave when the fixation breaks and even then i still linger about like a specter of fandom's past

the best tv show you watched last year: suddenly i don't remember a single TV show i watched last year, YIKES. now if you'd said movie...[cracks knuckles] how much time y'all got?

do you have a fancasting you just can't let go of? none come to mind!

a ship you've abandoned: i do not abandon my children, i just sometimes-occasionally-infrequently-intermittently forget to pick them up from daycare, that's all

on a scale of 1-10 how willing are you to share your ao3 history? [sweeping gesture] look upon my archive and see that i am an open book

do you have a fandom tattoo? nope!

what fandom do you wish was bigger? talk to me about Anastasia (1997)

has a finale ever ruined a show for you? ruined? no. soiled a little bit, left a sour taste in my mouth, riddled me with disdain? sure, often!

have you...

swam in an ocean? many times!

been vegan/vegetarian? yes, both at different times in my life!

gone skinny dipping? yes!

gone skiing? yes!

been to a convention? yes!

i'm tagging @gardenerian, @7x10mickey, @mmmichyyy, @callivich, @captainjowl, @sleepyfacetoughguy, @arrowflier, @too-schoolforcool, @sickness-health-all-that-shit, @y0itsbri, @creepkinginc, @pomegran4te, @sxltburn, @thisdivorce, @vintagelacerosette, @crossmydna, @michellemisfit, & @transmickey ✨

[thecameronchronicles]

Thighs

TW: Smut. Language. 

SUMMARY: Without condoms or patience, JJ finds another way to relieve himself. 

WORD COUNT: 700

REQUESTED

Anonymous asked:

JJ fucking reader’s thighs because she’s not on birth control and they ran out of condoms?

Thighs

“Fuck….” He groaned when reaching into the bedside table, your expression soured when watching him pull the empty box of condoms from the broken drawer, “Please baby, I can try to pull out or-”

“I’m not on the pill, JJ…” You reminded him as he clenched his teeth. 

“I’m so fucking hard for you…So goddamn sexy and now I’m throbbing because I can’t take care of it…” You bit your bottom lip as you felt him suddenly motion you to your side. 

“J-”

“Do you trust me?” You nodded as he left your hips naked to his touch, panties and shorts kicked to the very edge of the bed as you felt his rigid cock slip between your thighs, but not to penetrate or even to tease, to use the tension of that soft skin around him. 

“JJ-”

“Don’t worry baby…you’ll come too. I’ll make sure of it, sweetheart…I want to feel you drip on me…”

“Ahh…” You groaned to the feeling of his hand to your clit. 

“Oh my God…” He groaned. “So warm…” You reached for his cock, wanting to assist in a release, but he would weave your fingers to crane behind you and wrap at his neck before his touch came back to your sensitive bundle of nerves. 

“I only want to feel those perfect little thighs squeeze me baby…and I want to hear how much you fucking love it.” He spoke, that hand formerly at rest beneath your head now in a gentle but dominant wrap at your hair, pulling you back far enough so he could feast on your neck in a series of tongue kisses hot at your skin. 

“You’re already shaking-”

“JJ please…just put it in…I’ll get a morning after pill tomorrow-”

“Not a chance…this is too fucking good.” He groaned, moving behind you in growing acceleration. “Oh shit…You’re gonna make me come like this…” He pulled your hair tighter. “But you know the deal…we come together, you come first, or I don’t come at all.”

“Please, JJ…”

“God, you’re dripping on it, baby, I fucking love it.” His hand moved to your neck, angling your head down. “Look at how good it is…look what you’re doing to me…stop fucking with me and come baby…I want to feel that over me…”

“JJ!”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Fingers…please! I need more!”

“More? Two? Or three?”

“OH SHIT!” You groaned as he began to pump into you, one at a time, denying himself the feeling of your thighs around him in order to offer you this pleasure, as you were quick to stroke him. 

“Baby-”

“I need to make you come, JJ…I need to hear you…”

“No. I want you to feel me…Watch me…watch me come undone because of you…watch me fucking come because of these thighs. ONLY these thighs.” He pulled your fingers to his mouth, sucking on them, before driving his cock back at that pace between your thighs. 

“How the fuck does that feel so good?” He growled into your shoulder, sucking on skin as he was purposeful to leave behind bruising as a trophy for how you tasted for him. 

“FUCK! I can feel it!” You explained. 

“Yeah?”

“YES!”

“Then come on my cock, baby…right on it…right there…come on baby…” He endorsed, quickening as your body responded to him in grand approval. 

“I love how you’re shaking for me…but I need you to come.”

“I am! I’m fucking coming, JJ! Ah! Ahh! AHHH!” You gasped, moaning silenced by the rush too bold and intense to ignore as that sudden drip of warmth over his couch provided the proper lubrication. His feet tangled in yours to keep you pinned in place and your thighs tight as the overstimulation of his cock rubbing between you made you react with nearly violent jerks. 

“JJ!”

“I’m close baby…fuck…you’re gonna make me come-” He smacked your ass. “Those fucking thighs are making me come…” You assisted this by pressing your thighs even tighter, your name cursed beneath clenched teeth before watching his cock flex as his moans chorused behind you as validation for a release you witnessed. 

“Oh Shit! Oh Fuck! YES!” He breathed heavily behind you, those fingers recently embedded in your skin now gripping the sheets before you as he withdrew all angst and fell to a rest at your back. 

Taglist: @hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4starkey @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @obxxrxfes @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @rafesbae @camilynn @sweetestdesire @pankhoeforlife @pankowperfection

[catflowerqueen]

I’m kind of… of two minds about today’s SAMS episode.

(Warning for resigned and unhappy ranting below the cut)

The acting was spot-on—especially Moon’s hysterical laughing fit and the way Solar was trying to protect him and keep him from making rash decisions—but I don’t really like that they used Eclipse the way they did to achieve that. It seems almost… not exactly like a plot device, per say, but more of… an unnecessary upping of the stakes, I suppose? The group was already facing threats on five fronts: The constellations, Stitchwraith, Bloodmoon, Ruin’s mystery, and the Creator’s machinations.

And, sure, technically you could separate out the Creator, constellations, and Stitchwraith since their “plotlines” are more intertwined with the Lunar and Earth show and Monty and Foxy show… but considering how often Sun, Moon, and Solar get pulled into that and how Stitchwraith was technically the one who blew up the daycare, they are still fairly intertwined. So adding Eclipse in on top of all of that just feels a little… not great. Especially considering that it sort of ruins that scene he had with Solar Flare as the two of them were dying.

That isn’t to say I can’t see a few ways this could work. For example, Ruin could just be pulling another “Bloodmoon” and basically creating a new Eclipse using old SAMS footage to basically act as a smoke screen and hide whatever he is up to. He could have even used bits of Solar’s programming to do so given that it is pretty likely they were the one to knock Solar out, and there was tons of time to scan him and make blueprints after hiding the camera footage. Or Sun could be right and it could all just be a mean prank from Ruin’s end. Sure, Solar saw him on the camera footage today in the arcade, but since it was more than likely Ruin who edited the footage of Solar getting attacked, they could also very easily edit the footage to make it seem like they never left the arcade when in reality they had come over to mess with Sun and Moon. And they had plenty of time to learn how to disable the defenses and mess with the computer since they used to live in the ballpit, which is extremely close by one of the entrances to reach the computer from Moon’s room.

And it could, in theory, be the original Eclipse from when Sun first threw him out of his mind and messed up the spell and who has only just now managed to fix himself and stayed caught up on what was happening by watching the show—showing that he really did learn from his mistakes when Lunar pointed out how useful the viewers can be at information gathering. Or it could be any number of backups that Old Moon never found before Bloodmoon started being an actual nuisance that first time.

But give the show’s track record for bringing up interesting plot points and ideas only to drop them or otherwise retcon explanations… honestly, my hopes aren’t that high.

Honestly… I feel like I might want to just step away from the show for a while. At least partially—Maybe just focusing more on the gameplay side of the show more than the lore. Like. I still like the show, but I’m not really as excited as I used to be for the theorizing part, and I might be a little burnt out now.

I’m not saying I won’t be interacting with or posting about the show occasionally still, or that I won’t ever come back in full force, but…

I might just need to think about the recent developments for a while first, I guess. Maybe just focus on some other things in general anyways—It’s not like I don’t have stuff that needs attending to offline, after all.

Sorry if this leaves a sour taste in anyone’s mouth, and I’m not trying to dampen anyone else’s joy or excitement about the new developments. I just feel a bit down about the way things are going, and I needed to vent about those feelings a bit.

…I do want to emphasize again how much I loved Moon and Solar’s reaction today, though, because that was really, really excellent.

[best-underrated-anime]

Best Underrated Anime Group C Round 2: #C5 vs #C8

#C5: A bunch of teenagers are forced to share pain

#C8: Government employee and his white cat boss

Details and poll under the cut!

#C5: Kiznaiver

Summary:

Katsuhira Agata is a quiet and reserved teenage boy whose sense of pain has all but vanished. His friend, Chidori Takashiro, can only faintly remember the days before Katsuhira had undergone this profound change. Now, his muffled and complacent demeanor make Katsuhira a constant target for bullies, who exploit him for egregious sums of money. But their fists only just manage to make him blink, as even emotions are far from his grasp.

However, one day Katsuhira, Chidori, and four other teenagers are abducted and forced to join the Kizuna System as official "Kiznaivers." Those taking part are connected through pain: if one member is injured, the others will feel an equal amount of agony. These individuals must become the lab rats and scapegoats of an incomplete system designed with world peace in mind. With their fates literally intertwined, the Kiznaivers must expose their true selves to each other, or risk failing much more than just the Kizuna System.

Propaganda:

Kiznaiver is an extremely underrated work of Studio Trigger’s and is definitely one of their bests. Not just for the animation, but for the impactful story as well. The characters just feel so real, and this show just makes you think about human connection and how much we might care for each other if we shared our pain. Although it can get a little confusing at the end, the sheer raw emotion is what makes up for everything. Every single one of the characters gets developed in ways that made me smile like an idiot.

Very good but severely underrated anime! Would recommend! :)

Trigger Warnings: Emotional Abuse, Fatphobia, Disordered Eating, Implied Sexual Assault (maybe).

The fact that Yuuta is formerly fat is constantly mocked throughout the series, which leaves a bit of a sour taste in my mouth as a fat person watching the show personally. Yuuta, to maintain his thinness, engages in disordered eating by simply eating a small cube of food every day. Said character is also the subject of an attempted sexual assault by a female character, but I don’t remember correctly if that actually happened or if I just got triggered by the way the scene was portrayed.

#C8: White Cat Legend 2020 (Dali si Rizhi)

Summary:

Chen Shi, a young man from the countryside, journeys to the capital in search of his missing older brother, whose existence he only knew about upon his mother’s death. He knows neither the name nor face of his brother, and after finally arriving at the capital, he runs out of money as well. One thing led to another, and he finds himself employed at Dali Court, where he works for Vice Minister Li Bing, a large white cat.

On the other hand, Li Bing is of royal blood who was imprisoned because of his family’s treason. Now, he has to work in the government to atone for the crime. As for why he is in cat form? That’s for you to find out.

Propaganda:

White Cat Legend is a captivating blend of political intrigue, supernatural elements, comedy, drama, and action, showcasing a diverse cast whose allegiances are ever-fluid. It’s difficult to discern who’s on which side and why, since at any moment enemies may become friends, and friends may become enemies.

We have Chen Shi, who looks a lot like Tintin that it’s hard to believe he’s a main character. I think he’s more like the designated POV character, who guides the audience through the intricate political landscape. He becomes more prominent in season 2, though, when he is angered by how when those on top clash, it’s those below who suffer the most.

Then we have Li Bing, the white cat detective. When he’s not attempting paperwork with his inconvenient cat paws, he’s busy exposing schemes and conspiracies, yearning for the crimes to be judged fairly. But when the world is controlled by those in power, this is no easy task, not to mention that he also has to watch out becoming a real cat. 

Their colleagues in Dali Court are just as memorable. We have the shrewd Wang Qi whose luck is so good that it’s impossible to kill him, the runaway Arab prince Alibaba who wants to finally pass the Level 8 Mandarin exam so he can keep his boring desk job, the former soldier Sun Bao who’s afraid of ghosts, and the extremely unlucky Cui Bei who brings disaster wherever he goes that he’s just as effective as a nuclear weapon.

Outside of Dali Court, we have the ominous-looking General Qiu Shenji who is too sexy to be a villain, the cool lady General Lang Bailing whom even women would crush on, the cannibal demon Yi Zhihua who is too iconic to hate, the old as fuck Empress who somehow looks and acts like a child, and many more.

I’m making it a point to highlight the characters because the beauty of this show really lies in them. Whether they’re on the side of the protagonists or not, they’re all so loveable. They’re just different people, you know? Different people with different upbringings fighting for what they think is right, and sometimes their ideas clash with others. This is simply what divides them, much like relationships in real-life. White Cat Legend forces us to reflect on this.

Season 1 starts off light and hilarious as we follow the adventures of the Dali Court officials but gets heavier in later episodes. In Season 2, the humor is still there, but the overall mood is more serious. Both seasons will make you bawl your eyes out in their final episodes, so be prepared for that :)

The show also has exceptional animation, particularly during action scenes. They’re very immersive, made even more amazing with an emotionally-gripping soundtrack. 

I really hope you vote for this show, and if not, at least try watching it. It’s worth your time <3

Trigger Warnings:

Cannibalism - There’s a cat demon who appears in human form, and he eats humans (it’s not shown explicitly, though).

Animal Cruelty or Death - said cat demon also eats animals raw (again, not explicitly)

Graphic Depictions of Cruelty/Violence/Gore - There’s blood and fighting, and somebody also gets tortured in season 2. But again, nothing too graphic

When reblogging and adding your own propaganda, please tag me @best-underrated-anime so that I’ll be sure to see it.

If you want to criticize one of the shows above to give the one you’re rooting for an advantage, then do so constructively. I do not tolerate groundless hate or slander on this blog. If I catch you doing such a thing in the notes, be it in the tags or reblogs, I will block you.

Know one of the shows above and not satisfied with how they’re presented in this tournament? Just fill up this form, where you can submit revisions for taglines, propaganda, trigger warnings, and/or video.