#i will have more thots on this

[onlycheols]

imagine cheol fingering you for hours to prep you to take his cock only for you to squirt for the first time and he’s so insanely proud of you (and himself) and he’ll eat you out till you’re shaking from the overstimulation and from being sensitive then he’ll fuck you till you’re basically falling asleep

nsfw link

[wheneverfeasible]

Continuation “fix it” of this ficlet where Steve changed himself to try to earn Eddie’s love.

Steve missed his polos.

He missed his light wash jeans, his music, watching his favorite movies, he even missed his stupid plaid walls.

Eddie had laughed at them the first time he’d been in Steve’s room, back before they’d even started dating. Technically they were still there, they were just covered up with posters of bands Steve only knew about because his boyfriend liked them. Eddie had teasingly gifted him a Black Sabbath one back when they had just been friends to give his room more “personality” instead of his mostly undecorated room, which…okay, fair, because Steve had admittedly not done much of it himself just because he couldn’t be bothered.

(And he did, actually, kind of like the poster because it was their own little inside joke. It made him smile when he saw it, even to this day, even if he thought he could still taste the damned demobat sometimes.)

It wasn’t like he really knew much of who he was to begin with. He still had the bowling pin he and Tommy had stolen from the bowling lane their sophomore year (Steve’s idea, though only to impress his friend), and the picture of the car he had bought on a whim because Tommy had said he wanted a car just like it. Any other knickknack had either been gifted or purchased for a similar intent.

Now, that car picture was collecting dust in his closet, replaced by the Black Sabbath poster that Eddie had pinned to the wall slightly askew for ‘aesthetics,’ though it being slightly off-center and at an angle made Steve a little itchy. Soon, however, other posters soon followed, some given to him by Eddie and some he purchased himself after learning what bands Eddie liked, with a large Dio one taking up space by his bed.

Flyers of Corroded Coffin shows or other band merch dotted around the room as well, which he didn’t really mind because he liked supporting his boyfriend, though the clutter and disorganization slightly bothered him. Eddie had grinned at the sight however and called him a ‘real boy now’ for looking like the room of a young man and not a ‘30-something corporate stooge,’ so that would have to be fine too.

But he still missed his room looking like his room, instead of a replica of Eddie’s. It made Eddie feel more comfortable however, so he tried not to think about how it wasn’t his aesthetic at all, because he could learn to like it. He could change for the better. He could be what Eddie wanted. He could be good enough.

Which was why he was confused, staring at the garment box on the kitchen table where he’d been circling car ads in the classifieds, trying to find something cooler than his bimmer. Eddie had come over with a wide grin, sliding a box he recognized from one of the department stores he used to shop at before dating Eddie.

Eddie had proffered it with a flourish, grinning expectantly, practically vibrating with anticipation as Steve had carefully lifted the lid and moved the tissue paper aside to reveal the piece of clothing inside. A polo shirt in a soft, buttery sort of yellow with thick vertical white stripes running vertical over it.

Steve looked up at Eddie with a furrowed brow. “I…you got me a polo?” he questioned, confused and also concerned, knowing the department store was definitely outside of Eddie’s usual price range.

“Yeah!” Eddie confirmed happily, moving to sit in the chair next to Steve, looking down at the soft material Steve had yet to pull from the box. “The check from the gig came through, and I remember you looking at this shirt a couple weeks ago. I’ve been waiting to be buy it ever since.”

Steve blinked at that. He hadn’t known Eddie had caught him admiring the shirt in the window while he and Eddie had been walking around downtown. He felt a flair of panic at the thought, annoyed at himself for slipping up, for reminding Eddie that he was a stupid preppy rich kid. Eddie didn’t look upset though, or at least…he hadn’t. Now his eyes were darting over Steve’s expression with growing worry, chewing on his lower lip.

“Is that…is that all right? Was it a different one you wanted? I-I still have the receipt, we can return it and get the one you wanted,” Eddie rushed to say.

“No,” Steve quickly said, his fingers of one hand tightening slightly on the box while his other reached out of their own accord to slightly touch the shirt within. “I…Eddie,” he breathed, not knowing what else to say, what this meant. Why would Eddie buy him something like this? “You shouldn’t waste your hard earned money on…something like this.” Shouldn’t waste your money on me, he wanted to say. “It’s your first paying gig.”

Eddie shook his head quickly, an almost embarrassed smile curling his lips with a slight blush. “I wanted to, Stevie. You always buy me things, I wanted to return the favor. You’ve been so supportive of me and I wanted to…I don’t know. Thank you.” He glanced down at the polo with a soft expression, though he did frown a little too afterwards. “I haven’t seen you wear your polos in a really long time,” he murmured quietly.

Steve tensed at Eddie’s words. Of course he hadn’t. Polos weren’t cool. Polos weren’t good enough for Eddie. It was why he was so confused at this gift. He didn’t understand why Eddie would buy him something that wasn’t metal. That wasn’t suitable for his boyfriend.

“I know that you’re experimenting with your style and all, and I won’t deny you’re hot as fuck in these,” Eddie grinned, moving to pinch the loose sleeve of Steve’s tee between his fingers. It was from some band he didn’t actually know before he’d bought the shirt, something called Leatherwolf, though he had bought their tape as well so that he could pretend to be a fan and know some of their songs. “But you look hot in your polos too. I miss them.”

Steve sat up straighter at that, his eyebrows flying up in surprise. Eddie…liked his polos? “Aren’t the polos…kind of lame?” he asked carefully.

Eddie snorted, smiling as he leaned in to press a kiss to Steve’s neck, causing a startled smile to erupt over Steve’s own lips as he squirmed at the slight tickle of Eddie’s lips and hair. “There’s nothing lame about you, sweetheart,” Eddie murmured, voice roughened with his tease. He pulled back though, a touch of his worry on his expression again. “Do you like it?”

Of course Steve liked it. He loved it. It was exactly the one he had been looking at before, even though he’d tried to hide it, which meant that Eddie really had noticed it and really had been waiting to buy it for him. With his first paycheck from Corroded Coffin’s first real paying gig.

There had been the fear that Eddie’s involvement with the band would limit their options, that no one would want to listen to a band that had a member who was suspected of grisly murders. Eddie had been prepared to step down, to let the others move on without him, had offered it even though Jeff and the others had vehemently opposed the idea. They’d said that Corroded Coffin wouldn’t exist without Eddie and if he wasn’t part of it then they didn’t want to do it anymore.

In a surprise twist that probably shouldn’t have been all that surprising, Eddie’s infamy had actually helped the band. The news of his believed guilt and then later innocence and injury from the actual killer that he had tried to stop had spread even beyond Hawkins, drawing a crowd for their nights performing at The Hideout who began to see more patrons than ever before.

Then they’d been invited to participate in a Battle of the Bands, which they hadn’t won but they’d placed second, and the random shows they’d throw themselves at the quarry or wherever else saw larger crowds than usual, even the one they threw to celebrate Gareth graduating, and they’d even been asked to play at the fair, though it was a free gig.

Then, most recently, someone had approached them after one of their shows and asked to hire them for an event in Indianapolis. A paying event in Indianapolis. With it was the promise of possible future paying gigs as their fanbase grew and spread. There was even talk of a possible scout being at the gig.

Dustin had joked that maybe ‘86 hadn’t been his year, but ‘88 could be, though Eddie had just grinned and denied it, saying that ‘86 had been his year after all. He hadn’t said why, but he gave Steve a secretive smile and reached out to tangle their fingers together.

Steve felt a flare of warmth beneath his skin as he stared down at the polo again, hesitating before giving a brief nod. Eddie’s previously nervous smile bloomed into a joyous one, and he leaned in quickly to plant a smacking kiss to Steve’s cheek. Steve rolled his eyes but couldn’t prevent his own smile from growing on his lips.

“Thank you, baby,” Steve murmured, sliding a hand over Eddie’s neck to draw him in for a slow kiss. He didn’t know what it meant still, Eddie buying him a polo of all things, but it made him more determined than ever to be good enough for his boyfriend.

When they pulled back, Eddie soft with happiness, Steve made the decision. He needed to go all in if he was to keep Eddie happy. He drew in a deep breath and moved to take Eddie’s hand, his finger lightly tracing one of the scars there.

“I was thinking of growing out my hair. Maybe even dying it. Or maybe shaving i—”

“Don’t you dare!” Eddie interrupted, expression and tone absolutely scandalized as he squeezed Steve’s hand. Steve jumped slightly at the sudden explosion, blinking wide eyes at Eddie, causing the other to flush slightly in embarrassment. “I mean. You can, obviously, if you really want to, it’s your hair after all, but…” Eddie let out a small whine of protest as his gaze moved up to take in Steve’s hair.

Steve self-consciously reached up with his free hand to pass his fingers through his hair, which wasn’t quite as voluminous as he used to style it, but was still the last real testament of his former style. His former personality. The bullshit one.

“I mean,” Steve hedged, glancing away with a small roll of a shoulder in an aborted shrug. “It’s not exactly metal is it?” He looked back at Eddie with a slightly strained smile, rolling his eyes as though in commiseration. “I don’t want to embarrass you by making people think you have a prep for a boyfriend,” he laughed.

Eddie’s expression changed immediately as he stilled almost unnaturally, falling into a blank neutrality, even his eyes shuttering as he slowly pulled his hand from Steve’s grip. The response caused Steve to start panicking, worrying he’d messed up in some way, that he reminded Eddie of all the ways that he was lacking.

Steve opened his mouth to start apologizing, ready to apologize for anything, but Eddie held up his hand palm out to stop him, causing Steve’s mouth to shut with a soft click of teeth.

Eddie’s gaze dropped from Steve as his brows slowly began to furrow, a calculating expression settling over him as his eyes fell to the soft yellow polo still in the box. His lips twisted into a frown. After several excruciating moments, his eyes moved towards Steve’s shirt, an even more pinched look settling over his expression.

“Who are you wearing?” Eddie asked, his voice low and slow.

Steve glanced down at his shirt, the panic in him spiking, before realizing that this was a test. He had to prove to Eddie that he could like metal too (he didn’t, not really, though he could appreciate some of it) and wouldn’t be an embarrassment. He could do this.

“Leatherwolf,” he answered, thankful that he had done his job well enough to answer this pop quiz. He straightened his spine and pulled up the information he memorized with a slightly relieved smile. He could do this. “They’re from California. They were founded in, um, 1981.”

“What’s your favorite song of theirs?” Eddie asked, and there was something slightly off in his tone, but Steve couldn’t place it, not when he was frantically trying to recall the titles of the songs he’d made himself remember.

“Um. Cry Out?” he hesitantly asked more than answered, which caused Eddie’s lips to press into a thin line. He felt his breath catch at the obvious displeasure on Eddie’s face, wondering if he’d answered wrong. Was that a bad song? “O-or no, um, not that one. Uh. I like…um. I like…Magic Eye?” Fuck no, that wasn’t right. “Magical Eyes, I mean,” he corrected himself hastily.

Eddie’s eyes slowly dragged over Steve, his lips compressing again into a thin line as he drew in his own deep breath through flared nostrils. “Fuck,” he muttered, obviously not meant for Steve but it caused Steve to panic anyways as Eddie looked away, his brow furrowing in thought as his gaze settled on the newspaper on the table and the circled ads there.

“I’m sorry,” he quickly apologized, though he wasn’t certain what he had done wrong this time. Maybe Eddie didn’t like that band?

“Steve…” Eddie heaved a heavy sigh, rubbing his hand over his face before he looked over at Steve again. “I had thought you were just…trying things out. Experimenting. Lord knows your folks never let you be your own person,” he muttered before waving a hand as though to swat that thought away. “I didn’t realize you were actually trying to change.”

Why did Eddie sound so appalled by that? Wasn’t that a good thing? He was willing to fundamentally change who he was just for Eddie, to become someone deserving of Eddie, who fit in Eddie’s life. Didn’t Eddie want Steve in his life?

“Why are you upset about me changing?” Steve huffed, his worry turning into annoyance in his tone. “I thought that was a good thing. Not being the douchebag I used to be.” He scowled, crossing his arms with a roll of his eyes to cover his unease.

Eddie just looked at him in that way that made it seem like he was seeing inside Steve, which normally Steve liked because no one ever actually saw him, but now it just made him uncomfortable. Like he had done something wrong. He was just trying to be a good boyfriend, however. Besides, it’s not like he had come up with the plan on his own.

Everyone always talked about how different he and Eddie were. Always pointed out how preppy he was, made fun of Eddie for falling for a jock, had even asked at the start when they first came out publicly to their friends who was blackmailing whom into the relationship. Steve knew he had to change. They were too fundamentally different. It was the only way to keep Eddie.

Except Eddie didn’t look like he was going to be kept. He had started slowly shaking his head, pulling back, his eyes skittering over Steve again but in a way that said he wasn’t liking what he was saying. Steve’s panic spiked again.

“Eddie. This is good. I’m willing to change for you, that’s how much I love you,” Steve breathed, reaching out to grab Eddie’s hand with desperation. “I listen to your music now, and I play Dungeons and Dragons, and I don’t even talk about basketball around you anymore. As long as you’re happy, I’m happy. Don’t you see? Isn’t that all that matters?”

Eddie’s lips turned down into a sharp frown. A shuddering breath left him before he all but yanked his hand from Steve’s, his dark eyes turning even darker as he pulled away from Steve and said those damning words:

“But I’m not happy, Steve.”

Steve felt all the air leave his lungs, felt all the blood first rush to his head and then drain out of him, felt his mouth and tongue and throat shrivel into dryness as his eyes widened in horror. Eddie was shaking his head, stumbling out of his chair and back, an unreadable expression on his face as he distanced himself from Steve and this revelation.

“This wasn’t what I wanted, Steve. This doesn’t make me happy.” Eddie’s took another step back when Steve stumbled from his own chair, putting the table between them. “I…I need to go. I need to think.”

Steve knew with certainty that if he let Eddie leave now, that this thing between them would never be the same. His heart clenched in his chest painfully, and he felt his eyes sting with encroaching tears. “Eddie, please…” he begged, his words cracking.

Eddie only shook his head, sending his hair arcing around him, before straightening his spine. “This isn’t you. I don’t want this to be you. I love you Steve, but this version of you? The one that I created—” This time it was Eddie’s voice that cracked.

Clearing his throat, Eddie backed away. “No. No, this isn’t what I wanted. I’m sorry, Steve, but I need to go. I need to think. I can’t be here right now. I’m sorry.”

And with that, Eddie spun on his heels and all but ran towards the door, escaping from Steve’s incompetence, his unworthiness, his undesirability while Steve could only stand there in frozen horror, the tears he couldn’t hold back any longer slowly dripping down his cheeks.

Because he knew. He knew this would happen. He knew that no matter what he did, he would never be good enough. He knew that Eddie would leave him one day. Knew that he would never be able to keep the one he loved.

Knew that he, like his love, would always be complete and utter bullshit.

-

Part 3

-

tag list: @derythcorvinus @katyawriteswhump

[thekeythief]

[chitsangenthusiast]

red is to spider-man as pink is to miles, in that pink is the color of: self-expression, confidence, compassion. if you side with miles, if you want to support his growth, you're going to be in pink

that being said...a pink robe can be removed, and pink hairdye can be washed out

[midnight-vixn]

Imagine meeting your favorite demon brother, getting to know him, developing a massive crush on them and the two of you eventually start talking/dating.

When you first met him your impression was “this dude fucks” but the more you talk to him you start to wonder “wait…has…has he ever actually fucked???” The way he blushes and gives this nervous laugh when you make inappropriate jokes and how he seems so much more shy and innocent than you ever pictured a demon being makes you start to think he really is a virgin.

Then eventually a conversation one day reveals that no, he is not a virgin actually, but he’s so fucking intimidated by your beauty, personality and sheer aura that you make him feel like a virgin. Constantly second guessing himself and not knowing how to handle such an amazing creature. If he thinks too long about how this little human has absolutely broken him, brought him to his knees and made him want to worship them??? He becomes an absolute blushing mess.

The thought of just holding your hand and kissing you makes him uncontrollably horny, and the thought of actually getting to fuck you sends him over the edge every single time.

Congratulations! You may not have felt like the most stunning person in the human realm, but down here you’ve managed to take a demon fuck boy and turn him into a puddle who dreams nightly of you, all without lifting a finger.

[baby-xemnas]

on zou

only positive thing about not seeing your lover for some time is checking if they still feel the exact same way♥

law IS very charming and he knows it and he CAN flirt with anybody with overwhelming confidence if he has to - HOWEVER…having an effect on bepo is personal and all that is Really important to him….having a negative response would be devastating (it never happens of course) sexiest man in the world will be very upset if he doesn't charm a silly bear.

[becca-e-barnes]

I've been way too into hot wife stuff at the minute, I blame Serenity Cox and it got me thinking about being Steve's wife but he's really into watching you with Bucky.

Most of the appeal for Steve is that you and Bucky really degrade him. He gets to watch his little wife cum on his best friend's cock while you both taunt him and he never thought he'd be into it the way that he is.

"Your girl's so fuckin' tight, Steve." Bucky pants, slowing his thrusts into you because if he keeps up his current pace, he'll cum faster than he wants to. "Does Stevie fill you the way I do? Bet he can't. He's not as big as me."

You shake your head, staring right at Steve. "Not even close. You're pathetic, aren't you Stevie? You'd rather watch me get fucked by your best friend."

You know it's mean but Steve fucking loves it. He's cum four times already and he's still jerking himself off. It's like he just can't stop and it's so thrilling to see him enjoy this as much as he is.

"I'm gonna cum in your girl, Steve. Gonna make you watch me stuff her so full. Just imagine your pretty little wife with my cum dripping out of her greedy cunt. If you're lucky, she might let you fuck her after I'm finished." Bucky's not usually so vulgar but God, it works wonders for both you and Steve.

"I don't know. I'm not sure if I'll ever want to fuck Steve again." Hearing you say that sends Steve over the edge, spilling a fresh load all over himself while he groans pathetically and even then, he doesn't stop.

"I can't blame you. Now you know how it feels to be fucked right. Felt you cum on me more times than I can count." Bucky's not wrong but his excitement is building and you feel his pace start to falter.

"Fuck, oh fuck." You whimper, feeling the first few pulses of his cock and the unmistakable feeling of his load splashing into your eager body. You've needed this. You were desperate for it and after a second you realise neither of you needed it more than Steve did.

"Good girl, fuckin' take it. I can't stop." Bucky groans, pressed as deep inside you as he can get, pumping his cum right to your cervix. He cums for what feels like an eternity and it's pure bliss.

By the time he's finished, Steve is trembling with need once more.

"If you don't want your wife knocked up with your best friend's baby, I suggest you get to work." You tease, pressing Steve back on the bed and repositioning yourself so you're sitting on his face, letting his best friend's cum drip out of you and into his eager, waiting mouth.

[giddlygoat]

TRADITIONAL TOAD GARB PEACH LETS GOOOOOOOO

[chelseasdagger]

frank and his hairstyles over the years

reblog and write in the tags your favorite style + why!!

[l3viat8an]

Nsfw ❤︎

Thinkin’ about jerking Levi off…..fuck his face is so cute~ ‘n the way his mouth drops open and those soft whimpers, mixed with breathless little half-choked moans slip out….mixing with the lewd sound of your hand rubbing over his cock(s)….and finally that overwhelmed little gasp of your name when he cums all over your hand :(

[glittergroovy]

Megan Thee Stallion blinkies

made with blinkies.cafe. feel free to use

[wheneverfeasible]

pirate!Steddie AU

wc: 2.5k || rated: M (to be safe) || cw: reference to suicide, non-consent, and other general piratey things || ao3

When one thought of the phrase ‘Pirate King’ there were always certain expectations involved. An older pirate, grizzled and uncaring beyond his own interests, vicious with blade and pistol, quick to stain his hands red with anyone he deemed foe. To be fair, that had been his father.

The former Pirate King was truly a degenerate, disgraced nobility who stole from his provinces, who cheated and lied and stole from commoners and royalty alike. His failed coup would have had him and his young pregnant wife on trial for treason had he not escaped to the sea on a pirate ship with what portable wealth he had managed to secret away.

He had taken his wife along, at first, before dumping her at some port town to focus on his new rise to power. And rise he did over the next decade.

He was cunning, and ruthless, and he knew the tricks of the trade from how often he had hunted pirates in the past. He made a name for himself, dubbed The Fallen Noble, until that had not been enough for him. No, this time, he was determined not to fail the coup.

Eventually the Pirate King before him fell to his blade and he took it upon himself to pick up the crown, striking fear across sea and land both. His exploits were well-known, his viciousness the stuff of nightmares, and his taste for violence bloodthirsty. He had gone back to his wife and young son then, had stopped by occasionally during his rise though his son feared each one of those stops, and swept them away back into the world of deceit and power.

The son, only a young boy at the time, was raised like a prince, the Pirate Prince, and taught to be just as cruel and bloodthirsty as his father. And for a time, he was. The boy’s mother tragically passed away one fateful night when she was swept off the bow during a storm, though for the life of him the boy did not remember any such storm that night.

The boy, though raised first in negligence and then in violence, secreted the softness in his heart away, playing the role given to him to the point where he almost started believing it himself. Until he fell in love.

She had been stolen from her home with her young brother, with the boy meant to be inscripted into service while she was meant to be a prize for the Pirate Prince. She was unlike anyone he had ever known before and it wasn’t hard to fall in love with her. She would not be cowed, however, and he was not his father who took what was not freely given.

However, despite his love for her, in truth she loved another.

It would have been all too easy to dispose of the boy who held her heart, but that thick shell he had hidden within to be his father’s son had been cracked beyond repair. He aided her in her and her brother’s escape, watching the small boat drift away from his father’s ship and exchanging a solemn nod with the boy she loved who had come to rescue them.

His mask would no longer fit, he could no longer be who he had once pretended to be, and it was then that the boy became a man and in an act of defiance fought and slew his own father to end his tyranny once and for all. This young man stood above his father’s corpse as the new Pirate King.

Despite his young age, the Pirate King was not to be underestimated. When a mutiny rose of his father’s crew who remained loyal to the fallen tyrant and those who sought the power for their own greedy hands, the young man stood firm and dispatched those who coveted his crown. He would not bow to another monster.

Imagine his surprise when, only a year under his crown, the young brother of the girl he’d once loved returned to him to join his crew of his own free will. He did not come alone either, bringing with him a small pack of youths who wanted more than what society dictated for them, who heard of the fabled Pirate King, youngest in history, who refused to be the evil that had been his father and who protected those who bent the knee.

Though they had nothing in common, the Pirate King felt a kinship with these brave youths who wanted more, wanted to be more, and who stubbornly would not take heed when he tried to banish them off the ship. There was fierceness in their eyes, a hunger he knew all too well, and so while it at times made him feel more like a babysitter than a Pirate King with their youthful exuberance, he could do nothing but accept their honest fealty.

Along the way he met other wayward souls, including the sister of one of his greater rivals and the daughter of the man currently spearheading the hunt for pirates, as well as the young woman so desperate for a life of freedom, a life to be herself, that she soon found her way to being his second-in-command and who was almost as feared as he was.

Well. Feared by everyone except her and the youths he’d taken under his wing.

“Captain Dingus, sir, the rodent is on board.”

Steve Harrington, Pirate King and Captain of the Loch Nora, glanced up from where he was carefully sliding his dagger against the stone in his hand, a less than pleased expression pulling at his face at his quartermaster’s continued insubordination. He only sighed, however, since she at least had the decency to only do so when they were alone or among very select company.

Dropping his feet from his desk where he was leaning back in his thick, ornate chair that was more like a throne than anything else, Steve stood as he wiped his blade on a scrap of cloth before sliding it into home on his belt.

“Come now, Buck. He’s at the very least a snake,” he teasingly reprimanded with a grin as he moved towards her to follow her out of his cabin. “And just like one, he may be crawling on his belly soon enough if he isn’t prepared to pay off his debt.”

Robin was uncharacteristically quiet at that, and when Steve glanced over at her, he could see her teeth gnawing at her bottom lip. He raised his brows at that under the swoop of his hair, something telling him that he was going to find something far more interesting than the coin the man in question owed them. Whether that something interesting was going to be good or not was still to be decided.

It took only moments to move onto the deck of his ship, eyeing his crew as they stood encircling the kneeling figure in the middle. No. The kneeling figures.

Steve cast a quick glance Robin’s way at the sight before them, taking in not a chest or even bag of coins to pay off the man’s debt, but rather a younger man around Steve’s own age, bound and gagged kneeling next to the proverbial snake.

“Munson,” Steve drawled, and both pairs of dark eyes snapped to him. It was almost uncanny, making the resemblance even more obvious between the two kneeling men.

Alan Munson gave Steve a briefly panicked looked, before his mask of bravado settled over his features and he, neither bound nor gagged, shot Steve a smile that might have soothed his ruffled feathers had he not grown impervious to such looks thanks to his younger crew members’ own beguiling smiles. Munson clasped a hand over his chest above his heart.

“My liege, it is an honor to see you once more,” the older man formally intoned, bowing his head as though Steve were a real king and not just one who roamed the seas. His tone was light though, only the slightest tremor and the sweet dotting his brow belied the man’s nervousness.

Steve stopped in front of the two men, resting his weight on one leg as he brought his hands to settle on his hips. He cocked his head to the side slightly as he took in the tableau before him. Alan tried to meet his gaze with confidence he obviously did not feel, his eyes skittering away whenever Steve glanced at him, while the younger man glared up at Steve with all he was worth.

The young man’s eyes were rimmed with red, glassy in the way that spoke of past tears, and his thin chest heaved with the emotions swirling in his brown eyes so deep they were nearly black. The glare was not reserved only for Steve, however, as those dark eyes kept landing on Munson with anger and heartbreak and betrayal.

“Tell me, Munson. Are you hiding my money somewhere on your body in a questionable location, or are you planning on being another stain on my deck?” Steve said in an almost conversational way, though he had to withhold a snort as both pairs of identical dark eyes moved as one to look down at the dark stain inches from where they kneeled.

(The stain was actually due to Robin’s clumsiness spilling her dinner one night, but it made for a good impression.)

Munson recovered first with his smile only slightly shakier than it had been. He looked up at Steve in what he obviously hoped was a charming as disarming way. “I would never do you the disservice of cheating you, your majesty,” he said, and Steve might have believed him had the man not been infamously known in town to be a swindler and a cheat.

Munson’s eyes darted over to the younger man beside him before looking back up at Steve. “I regret that I don’t have your money at the moment—but I have something better!” he hastened to add on when the sound of drawn steel began ringing out as the surrounding pirates began drawing their various blades.

Steve held up a hand halting his overzealous crew mates, though he had to suppress a smile as well. Though most of the youngsters had once been squeamish at the darker aspects of the pirate lifestyle, they had since grown accustomed to the needs and requirements Steve placed on them. It helped that Steve did not needlessly shed blood, even when faced with the likes of Alan Munson.

“I am a very particular man, Munson. You will find that when I request my coin, it is not a request at all, nor am I interested in substitutions,” Steve's tone continued to drawl, though it became sharper towards the end as his wrist moved to settle meaningfully over the hilt of his sword at his waist.

Munson swallowed thickly with a jerking nod. “I understand, your majesty,” he rushed to say, before settling his hand on the young man’s shoulder beside him, causing said young man to flinch away with a shout muffled by the cloth in his mouth. When he tried to jerk away, two strong hands moved to force him back to his knees, courtesy of Steve’s crew.

Steve did not so much as bat an eye, merely lifting a brow to encourage Munson to continue. Without looking remorseful at all, he did so.

“My son, Edward,” Munson clarified, indicating the young man beside him though he did not reach out to touch him again. “I offer my own flesh and blood, my only child and son, into your generous hands. He is a hard worker, stronger than he appears, and capable of whatever task you set him.” There was not even a hint of a trace of hesitation on Munson’s face as he sold his own some out. “I give him to you to cover my debt, whether you keep him or sell him for profit.”

More angry, muffled noises came from the young man, from Edward Munson, son of Alan Munson, who was being treated as little more than chattel now and a bargaining trip to clear his father’s debt. Steve wanted nothing more than to slide his blade through Munson’s neck in that moment. His face hardened, but he let a deceptive smile curl over his lips.

Steve was, in the end, a pirate. And the Pirate King himself at that. His hands were hardly clean. The idea that a father would sell their child into slavery just to save their own neck, however, seemed far more evil than anything he had ever done, up to and including killing his own father.

Stepping towards the bound young man, Steve reached out to grasp the young man’s chin, squeezing sharply when Munson Jr. tried to jerk away. He angled the young man’s hand this way and that to examine him, before roughly releasing him to face the elder Munson.

“I will accept this trade only with a provision,” Steve began, Munson’s ecstatic expression dropping to one of wariness as Steve’s tone turned darker. “If your son does not perform his duties properly, or if he does not return to me what your owe with interest, I will gut him like a dog in front of you before doing the very same to you. Do I make myself clear, Munson?”

Munson’s eyes widened, his face rapidly paling, but he was nodding quickly once more. “Y-yes, I understand, your majesty. He won’t disappoint.”

“Let us hope so, for your benefit.” Steve glanced at the crew behind the kneeling man with a subtle jerk of his chin, the silent communication having them hauling him roughly to his feet and shoving him towards the boat they’d dragged him in on. Steve then cast his eyes towards Robin. For the benefit of the bound man still kneeling before him, he spoke his next order out loud, despite Robin already knowing what he would say.

“Mr. Buckley, see to it that Mr. Munson is left with a reminder as to why it’s important to always pay your debts promptly and fully,” he said with a small smirk, dropping his gaze to the young man who was struggling against his bonds and gag, his eyes desperately on his father. “Just something he can live without. Maybe a toe, or his little pinky finger,” he grinned.

Robin unsheathed her own blade strapped to her thigh with a dark grin of her own. “Gladly, Captain,” she replied with a nod, and he knew he would soon hear the pleasant music of a scream of fear and pain.

Steve’s eyes cut to the pirates holding Munson Jr. down. “Let’s be gracious hosts and escort our guest here to his quarters,” he said, tone ripe with sarcasm. “And then let’s get the hell out of here once the riffraff is gone.” He smiled as, at that moment, Munson’s scream filled the air, causing Munson Jr. to flinch as Keith hauled him to his feet and began pushing him to the brig below deck.

Steve had been correct, he thought as he gazed out to the sea, feeling the winds of change in the air. Munson’s payment had been interesting. Now he just had to decide what he wanted to do with his payment.

To be continued…

-

Hostage tag: @derythcorvinus

[kafkablade]

[skunkes]

I hate watching movies they make me want to do things and meet people

[junkissed]

need to ride jun's abs so bad this isn't funny anymore . 💤

i soooo get you but also... what if you were riding jun's cock and right before you're about to cum he lifts your hips off of him and ruins your orgasm and instead makes you ride his abs and you have to cum from that before he'll let you have his cock again. honestly i think he would be just as into ab riding as you are, if not more (and trust me i am very into ab riding). it gives him a rush knowing you can easily get off merely by grinding against his stomach. he would hold onto your hips so tightly and drag your pussy back and forth, making sure your clit touches every single ridge of his toned abs. he would tense the muscles so it would give you something nice and hard to grind against and the entire time he would be praising you at how well you ride him (but also at the same time lowkey bragging about how good his abs are; we've seen his lives lolol and we know he loves to tease us about his abs). "does that feel good, sweetheart? which do you like more, riding my abs or riding my cock? silly question- i know it's a tough choice, baby. you want both. and i'll let you have both, if you keep being such a good girl and cum all over my abs. then you can have my cock, hm?" and then when you do finally cum, he'd make you move so you can see the trail of wetness you've left all over his body and he'd coo about how you're always so wet and beautiful and desperate for him. and only then he would let you ride his cock again

[sorrelpaws]

BOO!!! (forty seven injured, three dead)