#the whiskey cola was good

[flutterdown]

my dad hasn't spoken to me in over a week and he just entered my room drunk and handed me an empty bottle of texas pete hot sauce filled with some homemade "corn liquor(?)" and made me try it.... he told me some guy at work makes it and then he told me he's been up on the roof drinking it. so.

[pwinkprincess]

hello!!! i hope ur having a lovely day! <3

i would like to request a nanami fic. maybe using the one bed trope??

thank you! XOXO

nanami has always preferred to do things alone. living, cooking, sleeping, organizing, everything needs to be done precisely and in his preferred way. working was also something he enjoyed doing on his lonesome. the way nanami moved was meticulous and it left no room for error. he enjoyed taking his time to learn his footwork and his abilities. as dreadful as being a sorcerer is, he has to find enjoyment in the littlest things.

“nami! i can’t open this!” you’re pouting and groaning in irritation while you struggle to open your can of cola. he glances to his side, you’re trying to use the tips of your fingers instead of your nails due to them being so long and squared.

“i told you to stop getting them so long.” he’s grumbling while taking one hand off of the steering wheel to open the can for you. once you hear the satisfying pop, a bright smile plays onto your pretty lips. 

“thank you, nami!” you smile excitedly while taking the can back.

he didn’t reply, only giving you a hum to let you know he heard you. you’re a nice girl, you remind him of something sweet. your personality is so bubbly and energizing, something nanami is completely polar of. even after months of working with you as both his partner and your mentor, he could never get used to you. you’re like a sweet slap in the face, he had stigmatized that the earth is cruel and evil years ago. and then here you go, prancing around all pink and glittery. 

when he first saw you, he thought you were a teenager, to give you some lead way; fresh out of high school. his eyebrows almost touched his hairline when he learned that you were actually well into your 20’s. you’re just a few years younger than him. he remembers complaining to yaga, to the higher ups, he was even so devastated that he found it in him to complain to gojo. 

“i’ve never needed a partner. i sure as hell don’t need one now.” he told gojo as he downed his fourth shot of whiskey. “and一and she’s just so fuckin’ opposite.” he complained. his pale cheeks were flushed red and there were small beads of sweat formed around his hairline.  

gojo has his infamous smirk on his lips as he listens to his ‘friend’ rant. “maybe that’s what you need, kento.” gojo tells him, honestly. “a reminder that you’re not even goddamn 30 yet. live a little.” 

if they wanted him to live a little they should’ve given him a vacation to the beach or something of that sort. that’s how nanami sees it, anyway. 

while you are just the sweetest thing, you sometimes are a lot to deal with. your attention span is too short, you become emotional when things don’t go your way, and you shut down too easily. nanami finds himself having to pick up the pieces alot when it comes to you. especially with you two being partners and the missions can sometimes be months long. something so delicate, hosts something so fiery inside. he’s seen you during battle. when a curse is taking too long to exterminate, when a mission drags on longer than told, when you accidentally break a nail from punching too hard. all those things tie together and create an absolute beast. he had almost felt foolish for doubting you the first time the two of you had gone on your first official mission together.

“nami.” your soft voice rings through his ears. he had a bad habit of zoning out, especially while driving. it’s become habitual to call out his name every now and then to make sure he’s actually focused. 

“i’m here.” those two words carry two meanings as he pulls into the hotel parking lot.

the two of you step out of the car. you stand beside nanami, watching as he pulls out his solid black duffel bag along with your hello kitty duffle bag. you continue mindlessly sipping on your coke even while he has to use his hip to close the door because his hands are full.

“you’re too good to carry your own bag?” he asks with furrowed eyebrows. 

“yup.” you make sure to pop the p. he can only glare at you. with a bright, unaffected smile, you blissfully ignore his intense, piercing glare and walk towards the entrance of the hotel. you stride confidently, with nanami towing closely behind you.

you walk up to the front desk and begin talking to the receptionist. she appears noticeably young, perhaps younger than both of you. her face is dotted with a variety of moles, along with a few faint acne scars. her upturned hazel-green eyes are striking, despite the dark circles beneath them. the contrast between her youthful features and the weariness in her gaze has you intrigued. you were a complete sucker for pretty girls. 

“we do have one more room available, but there’s only one bed.” she tells you two. her eyes sweep between the two of you hesitantly as she breaks the news.

both you and nanami freeze at her. usually, you would both get your own rooms and meet back up in the morning. instantly, there’s a pout on your face. the cheerfulness and confidence you once walked into the lobby with is quickly gone.

“how far away is the next closest hotel?” you ask.

“about forty minutes.” she replies.

you look behind you, at nanami; who seems to be calculating something. “what are we gonna do, nami?” you’re frowning and your tone holds a silver of frustration.

“we’re going to take the room. i get the bed and you get the couch.” is all he says. he steps up to give her the money.

minutes later the both of you are walking to your designated hotel room. nanami holds a look of nonchalance while you’re all pouty and frowning. 

he ignores it, he’s gotten so used to it. he knows your little attitude won’t last forever. something else will soon take your attention and you’ll soon forget about how upset you were seconds ago. once the two of you make it to the door, he slots the keycard inside of the lock and watches the red light flash green. he allows you to walk in first and trails closely behind you.

the room is spacious and inviting, a large king bed lies in the middle of the room, draped in crisp, high thread count linens and a plush, oversized duvet. soft lighting creates a warm ambiance, while large windows offer a stunning view of the cityscape surroundings. in the far corner,  a plush, deep set couch padded in soft, rich fabric, inviting everyone to sink into its comfort. the couch is surrounded by a pair of stylish armchairs.

“this is the best room so far!” you’re excitedly bouncing around and touching everything. you can barely stay in one spot before you’re moving onto the next. you open a door that leads to the bathroom. you let out an excited squeal when you see how big the bathroom is. “they have those drop-in bathtub things!”

you skip to nanami and grab you duffel bag out of his hands. “i’m gonna go shower!” you tell nanami before running back inside the bathroom.

𓊆ྀི ❤︎ 𓊇ྀི

“nami! jus’ lay down! i’ll sleep at the headboard and you sleep at the foot of the bed.” you try to negotiate with the man. this has been going on for a few minutes and you were beginning to grow irritated.

“the couch is fine. it’s big enough and it looks quite comfortable.” he declines.

“i’m gonna cry.” you threaten him.

“are you really going to cry because i prefer the couch?” nanami asks with both amusement and frustration. he was growing tired and wanted nothing more than to lay down at the moment.

“this is a large bed! i won’t be able to forgive myself if you sleep on the couch.” you explain to him.

nanami just sighs and stares at you. you stand there with your arms crossed, not giving up on wanting him to sleep on the bed also.he’s sure that if just goes and lay down on the couch you’d follow him and complain until he caves in to get you to be quiet. 

“alright.. alright.” he mumbles as he goes to the foot of the bed, far away from where you’d be laying. 

the both of you climb into bed with your backs toward each other. you’re facing the now covered windows while he faces the door. 

“g’night, nami.” you tell him sleepily.

“goodnight.” he replies.

𓊆ྀི ❤︎ 𓊇ྀི

nanami should’ve known. his eyes sleepily flutter open, he could feel your body greedily rubbing against his. your leg is thrown over his so that your clothed cunt could rub against his hardening dick. you’re letting out gaspy moans every time your clit gets captured against the tip of his cock. your face rests in the crook of his neck, dribbles of spit escape past your lips and land on his neck only for you to lap it back up. 

“sweetheart..” nanami trails off tiredly. he’d be lying if he said it didn’t feel good but you two had to get up extremely early and when you don’t have enough hours of sleep, you turn into a little demon.

“i-i know.” you whine. “‘s gonna be the last time, n-nami. i jus’ need you.” you sniffle. 

everytime is you two have sex you try to reassure nanami that it would be the last time. he knows you’re lying and he can’t tell if you say and genuinely mean it or if you say it to just quiet him down. he should’ve known when you begged him to sleep in the bed with you that you were up to something. 

“i need you!” you repeat stubbornly. 

he huffs to himself as his fingers slide down under your flimsy shorts. you thumb makes contact with your clit and you’re instantly bucking yourself against his hand instead. you’re so wet, you already have his fingers covered with your arousal. 

“don’t wan’ your fingers, nami. wan’ your cock!” you don’t wait for him to reply to your statement. your hands greedily dig into his sweatpants and fish for his cock. when your hands come in contact with his length, he shudders and lets out a low curse.

“greedy girl.” he tsks. he helps you shuffle his sweatpants down just enough for his cock to be freed. “no prep?” he asks in worry. you need it so bad that you’re shaking your head no. you continue to lap at his skin, leaving marks onto him. with shaky hands, nanami tugs your shorts off of your legs and slides your panties to the side. “look at me.”

you raise your head and search for his hardened eyes. the second you two make eye contact, his lips latch onto yours. he hungrily keeps his lips pressed against yours as he lines his thick cock up to your leaking hole. he slowly pushes himself into you, the both of you gasp and moan into each others mouths as you become one.

he doesn’t keep a steady rhythm for long, the second his pelvis slaps against your ass he speeds up. he’s serious about getting some amount of sleep so that you two could be well rested for tomorrow’s mission. he continues to thumb at your clit while he thrusts into you.

“mnghhh! s-shit.” you moan out once the two of you pull away. nanami’s eyes glance down at your spit glossed lips, you look so delicious like this. 

“pretty girls don’t curse.” he lectures you. 

you can’t think of an insult to throw at his way. all you can do is moan a weak ‘sorry’ and grab at his shoulder. nanami coos at how dumb you’re becoming for him. he uses his other arm to hook it under your leg and bring it up higher. even though the movement is subtle, the change is obvious.

nanami is barely holding up, himself. his skin is flushed red and his hair is sticking down to his head. he’s letting out huffs as he tries to control himself and not cum so fast. it’s hard not to when your pussy is gripping him so tightly. 

he looks down and watches as his dick appears and then disappears inside of you repeatedly. he could see strings of your arousal smeared all over both yourself and him.

“fuck.” he mumbles before diving for your lips once again. as much as he wants to finish as soon as possible with how wet and needy you are, he knows you two will be going at it for hours. 

[obessedwithfictionalmen]

Too sweet

John Egan X RedCross! Reader

Summary: When Y/n breaks up with Harry Crosby, Bucky goes to help her...

Warning: Asshole!Harry Crosby/+18/ smut/ riding/ unprotected sex/ p in v/ hickey/ swearing/ kissing/ alcohol/ use of Y/n

Word count: 2.7k

The band was playing as Y/n and Harry Crosby made their way into the room. It was a party for someone’s 25th mission. Y/n was excited to drink what the barman was going to propose, words on the street was that he was good with fruity drinks. It was something new for the base, they usually drank whiskey, rhum and coca cola. ‘’I’ve heard that he makes new drinks, fruitier than your usual whiskey’’ she joked, but Crosby was not laughing. He was growing tired of Y/n’s sunshine personality. He liked her, but he liked her body more. They were just having sex at first, to blow off some steam, but Y/n started to visit him, and Crosby didn’t have to balls to tell her that it was just sex.

‘’He doesn’t deserve her’’ John Egan said to his friend, Buck. ‘’I completely agree with you, he seems tired of her’’ he adds. Ever since she came on the base as a Red Cross volunteer, Bucky was in awe of her. She was so beautiful, and she had this confident attitude that attracted the Major. Bucky kept looking at her from across the room as Crosby dragged her in front of the bar. ‘’You should convince her to, y’a know, leave him’’ Rosie Rosenthal said, taking a sip of his drinks as he joined the conversation. Egan’s head turned to look at Rosie, questioning his motive, but still, John agreed with him. Helen joined the men, with her drink in the hand, she came next to Rosie. ‘’I heard that he’s the missionary king. Kinda boring if you want my opinion’’ she took a sip, smirking. Gale Cleven scoffed before looking at Y/n, the woman looked desperate for someone to save her.

She adjusted her dress, the one she wore for him. It was bright red, the buttons stopped in the middle of her breast, exposing cleavage, the dress stopped mid thigh. It was beautiful, Y/n thought she looked amazing in it; but when Harry Crosby saw her, he just said that she looked nice. It pained her, she put a lot of effort in her look to just be told that she looked nice. ‘’I’ll have a whiskey, neat’’ Crosby ordered. Y/n stuttered a little bit, she didn’t know what to say. She looked at the menu, filled with colorful drinks before choosing one with grenadine and gin. Helen came to her rescue, pulling her away from Crosby as Y/n grabbed her drink. ‘’I’m borrowing her’’ Helen said to Harry. She almost spilled her drink, but when she sat on the table, Helen looked at her. ‘’Him? Y/n you deserve better’’ she stated. ‘’We’re not official, and he’s really tired, his job is hard.’’ she excused him, again. Helen rolled her eyes, before looking at John Egan. ‘’By the look of things, you’ll never be official with him. He looks bored’’ she tries to reason her friend. Y/n fidgeted with her fingers, taking a sip of her drink. It was really tasty! ‘’It’s complicated, he’s still with Jean’’ Y/n whispered. Helen choked on her drink, almost spitting it. ‘’WHAT?!’’ she exclaimed; Y/n looked at the ground.

John Egan was looking at Y/n, that red dress suited her perfectly. She was breathtaking. When they heard Helen exclaim loudly, Buck and Rosie looked at each other. ‘’Holy shit’’ Rosie chuckled as he read Helen’s lips. ‘’What?’’ Bucky asked, looking at Rosie. ‘’If I understand correctly, he’s still with his wife’’ Rosie whispered. Bucky started to laugh. ‘’Harry Crosby, you son of a bitch’’ he mumbled, chuckling. Harry Crosby made his way into the crowd, looking for Y/n, when he got to her, he practically pulled her away from her chair. Y/n walked past Bucky, smiling to him as she was being dragged in the room.

‘’Another whiskey, neat please’’ he ordered the same thing. Y/n tried a lot of things, it was all good, she tried to convince Harry to try other things, but he was sticking with his whiskey neat. ‘’Croz, the Cosmopolitan is really good, I’m sure you’ll like – ‘’ Harry Crosby slammed his hand on the table, not to strong, but loud enough to make the woman flinch. ‘’Goddamnit, Y/n, for the last time. I don’t want to try your fruity drinks! God, how many times do I have to tell you?!’’ he said, aggressively. ‘’I, uh, I’’ she stuttered, in shock of what just happened. ‘’You and your sweet stuff. *scoff*, pathetic. Why can’t you just be like Jean, obedient and silent. No, I have to deal with your sweet and ‘I always see things in a positive way’ bullshit. Your just too sweet for me!’’ he spat. The waiter put his whiskey on the table. Y/n had enough, she took his glass and got up her seat. ‘’You know what? I’d like to see things for your point of view, but I can’t get my head so far up my ass. Fuck you Harry Crosby, we’re done. Go back to your wife, you must miss her after all!’’ she said as she threw his whiskey on him.

That’s my girl! That’s what John Egan thought when he saw Y/n throw whiskey on Harry Crosby. He had it coming for a while now. He was so proud of her; he had a huge grin on his face. ‘’Go after her’’ Helen suggested, and that’s what he did. He saw her going outside, so that’s where he went. ‘’Y/n, wait!’’ he called her out. She had pure anger running through her veins. But she knew that it wasn’t Crosby going after her. She turned around and saw him. ‘’Bucky, hi’’ she cleared her throat. ‘’Are you okay? I, uh, saw the scene’’ he scratched the back of his head. She replaced her hair, looking at Bucky. ‘’Yeah, he's such an asshole’’ she scoffed. John walked closer to her, she wasn’t crying, but she was angry at Crosby. ‘’You want to get out of here?’’ he asked her, she tilted her head in confusion. ‘’Where would we go?’’ she asked. ‘’Not out of the base, but out of this aera, where he could come out’’ he clarified. She nodded as John led her gently to his Jeep.

They entered the woman’s quarters, but they were empty, since everyone was at the party. ‘’By the way, you look astonishing in that dress.’’ He complimented her. Her cheeks grew red as she bit her bottom lip. ‘’Thank you, Bucky, I, uh, you look handsome too’’ she stuttered. ‘’Those drinks looked really good; I wished I tasted one’’ he said. Y/n smiled, truly happy. That’s all he had to do, was it so hard Harry? ‘’Yeah, they were’’ she whispers as she awkwardly looks around the room. ‘’Can I ask you a question?’’ he asked her. She nodded as she sat on her bed. ‘’Why were you with him?’’ he asks. Y/n smiles as she thinks. ‘’Honestly, I thought he was going to be nice and caring. But he wasn’t, and the sex was bad’’ she blurted out the last part, putting her hand in front of her mouth in shock. ‘’God, I’m sorry, please forget I said that’’ she chuckles nervously. ‘’Don’t worry, I already knew that Helen told me’’ he confessed.

They’ve been talking for a while now; nurses were starting to come back. ‘’You have to go; you’re not supposed to be here’’ Y/n signs. John got up, so did Y/n. ‘’I’m not ready for this night to be over’’ he confesses. She blushes as she looks at him. ‘’Me neither’’ she whispers. Bucky smirks as she takes her hand, leading her outside. They got up in his Jeep as they went inside Bucky’s quarters, since he was important on the base, he had his own room. It was in the building where everyone lived, but still, it gave him a little bit of privacy. ‘’Don’t worry about them’’ he whispered as she saw men on their bed. Some men were already sleeping, others were reading and the ones that looked at her were smiling, because they saw what happened with Crosby.

When they entered his room, she felt a weird sense of déjà vu. She’d been here, in this building multiple times with Crosby, but now, she felt like she was important. When she was here, they would have fast and boring sex, usually in missionary. After sex, Harry would fall asleep, he fell asleep around 3pm, leaving Y/n alone, bored and unsatisfied. ‘’What’s going on in your pretty head?’’ Bucky asked as he closed the door. ‘’Nothing, I’m happy to be here’’ she said, not too loudly. Bucky smiled; she was so beautiful. She got comfortable, taking her shoes off and taking a seat on his bed, where he joined her after taking off his jacket. He was a little bit nervous, only because she was so beautiful. ‘’What did Helen told you, y’a know, about the sex?’’ she asked, smiling. Bucky chuckled and looked at her in the eyes. ‘’That he was the missionary king, and it was boring’’ he explains. ‘’Yeah, uh, she’s right.’’ She laughed nervously. ‘’He was that bad?’’ he asked. Y/n nodded as she blushes. ‘’He was’’ she whispers.

The air in the small room felt hot and thick. They’ve been talking about sex for a while and Y/n was hot, the small room was not helping. ‘’Tell me something true’’ Y/n said. He let out a breath before finding the courage to say what he was about to say. ‘’I really want to kiss you right now’’ he breathed out. Her breath caught in her throat as she blinked and looked at him. ‘’Tell me something true, Y/n.’’ he said seductively. She didn’t even have to think twice. ‘’I really want you to kiss me’’ she breathed out. She looked at his eyes, then his lips and his eyes again. Their face was so close, the air in the room was so heavy. Bucky put his hands on her cheek before pressing his lips on hers. The kiss felt like sunrise, it felt so good. Harry Crosby wasn’t a good kisser, but John Egan was a really good kisser. They pulled away to catch their breaths. ‘’Please… Don’t stop’’ she whispered. ‘’I wasn’t planning on it’’ he smirked. Their lips crashed against the other again, this time, it was more intense. Bucky hands trailed down her body, he laid down on the bed, making Y/n got on his lap.

His hands were getting under her skirt, trailing on her thighs, getting closer to her panties. ‘’That red dress is driving me crazy’’ he mumbled against her lips. Her hips grinned against his lap, she felt him growing hard under her. ‘’At least, someone found it hot’’ she chuckled. ‘’Yeah, more than hot – ‘’ his hips buckled, making her feel his boner. ‘’- Feel that? That’s what that dress does to me’’ he smirked. ‘’Just a dress? It doesn’t take you much’’ she giggles. He scoffed before kissing her neck. ‘’Yeah, just that. You looked like a goddess’’ he sucked the skin on her neck, making a mark. She was out of breath, she wasn’t used to this much foreplay, she felt a little dizzy, but it was in the best way possible. His hands were still on her thighs, playing with her panties, taunting her a little bit. But, even if she loved what was happening, she was frustrated, she needed Bucky right now. ‘’Major, I need you. I love the foreplay and stuff, but please; I need you’’ she breathed out. He smirked as he reached her panties. ‘’Whatever you want, darling’’ he said as he took her panties off. Her hands reached his belt, she unbuckled it as she eagerly watched him. ‘’As long as I love this dress, I want to see you’’ he said, unbuttoning her dress. ‘’Then, let me see you’’ she replied, looking at him.

They quickly undressed before going in the same position they were in before. She was naked, on top of him, Bucky was also naked. She was soaking wet, she wasn’t used to this much attention, so it turned her on a lot. ‘’Ride me, sweetheart, c’mon’’ he encouraged her. She sunk down on him, her breath caught in her throat because of the size of his length. ‘’Holy shit’’ she moaned. ‘’Breath, Y/n, take your, shit, take your time’’ he mumbled. His head was thrown back, she was really tight and felt heavenly. She began grinding on him, slowly, to make sure that it didn’t hurt. ‘’Atta girl’’ he breathed out. As she familiarized herself with his size, Y/n began to move a little faster. Bucky’s hand went on her hips, he wanted to guide her. But she was going to the pace that he was looking for. ‘’You’re so big…’’ she moaned as she leaned to kiss him. He chuckled before kissing her. When she felt one of his hands on her breast, she moaned inside his mouth. He played with her tit, teasing her nipple; he loved watching her body react to him, it felt good, seeing the effect he had on her.

The heavy breathing coming out of their mouth was erotic, the fact that they had to keep quiet was pure torture. As they came closer to their orgasm, it was more difficult to keep quiet. She felt a not in her stomach, her climax was close, but a small part of herself didn’t want it to be over, she was truly enjoying it. ‘’I’m close’’ she managed to whisper. ‘’Me too, cum with me’’ he pleaded. She tried to hold her orgasm, but it was hard. Her thighs were shaking. ‘’Bucky, I need too – ‘’ ‘’Cum, now’’ he ordered. They both reached their climax at the same time, they tried to keep quiet, but the pleasure was too much. Bucky sucked her neck again to keep quiet, marking her again.

Bucky and Y/n had to take a moment to recover from what just happened, it was truly amazing, they couldn’t believe it. ‘’Thank you for this amazing sex’’ she breathed out, smiling. ‘’You’re welcome, and I agree, it was amazing’’ he smiled. She decided to sleep here, postponing her walk of shame tomorrow. She put on one of his shirts as she laid beside him. She felt happy, her stomach had butterflies. When she fell asleep, she didn’t even think about Harry Crosby, she thought about John Egan.

A knock on the door woke them up, it was potentially someone telling Bucky that he was flying today, but when she opened the door, Y/n was surprised to see Harry Crosby. When he saw her, his mouth slightly opened. ‘’Y/n, what are you doing in Bucky’s room?’’ he asked. Bucky walked behind Y/n, she felt like she had a scary dog privilege. ‘’What do you want, Croz?’’ Bucky asked. ‘’You, uh, you’re needed, the, uh, Colonel wants to see you’’ he stuttered, seeing the marks in Y/n’s neck. She looked at her watch, it was almost time for her shift. ‘’Shoot I gotta go, see y’a’’ she kissed Bucky’s neck as she put her dress on, not bothering to button it since she was going to change. Crosby had his jaw on the floor, it wasn’t a walk of shame, it was a walk of power.

She was sitting on a table; it was her break. She’d been giving out coffee for hours, she didn’t want a boring black coffee, she wanted a good coffee, with milk and sugar, sadly milk and sugar was for Majors. ‘’Is there anyone sitting here?’’ Harry Crosby asked, with two cups of coffee in his hands. She didn’t want to talk to him, but he sat down on the table anyway. He pushed one cup in front of her: black coffee. Y/n looked at the cup, then slowly rose her head to look a Crosby. ‘’What do you want?’’ she asked. ‘’I’m so sorry for yesterday, I didn’t know – ‘’ she cut him off with her hand. ‘’Crosby, you came here to get me back?’’ she asked, with a hint of disgust. He nodded. ‘’I don’t want to hear it, you humiliated me, told me I was boring, and you’re married!’’ at the same time, Bucky came to sit next to her, handing her a cup of coffee with milk and sugar. ‘’Milk and sugar, just how you like it’’ he smiled as he sat down. Bucky kissed her cheek before looking at Crosby. ‘’You said it yourself, Harry, I’m too sweet for you’’

[hikari-kaitou]

This is Phoenix and Edgeworth's profiles as imagined by character designer Ms. Suekane. We got quite different answers from her compared to Takumi and the others!!

Phoenix's profile

Birthday: Maybe a Virgo? I kinda get the feeling he was born in September.

Blood type: O type. His attitude towards Maya and his fairly easygoing nature give me that impression.

Birthplace: Saitama, maybe? It's close to Tokyo but not on the same level because it's more rural. Maybe Saitama or Chiba or Ibaraki? But Takumi-san is from Saitama? Well, let's go with Saitama, then.

Non-work clothes: A hoodie. I want Phoenix to like wearing hoodies (lol). I can't think of anything else that would suit him. On the bottom, he'd wear cargo pants.

Living situation: He lives at his office. He's got a locker there where he keeps blankets and stuff to sleep on.

On his days off: He does nothing. He kinda just spaces out in the morning, then when noon comes he eats lunch and watches TV. When evening comes, he eats dinner, watches more TV, bathes, and sleeps. But if someone invites him out then he'll go.

Hobbies: Video games and stuff. Like fighting games (lol). I can see him with his controller going "tap tap tap tap" and smashing out combos. He might also play Dragon Quest or Final Fantasy or those types of games.

Favorite food: He's omnivorous. He'll eat whatever but he's kinda happy when there's meat in it. He loves meat.

Luxury foods: Diet cola. Beef jerky would be fine too (lol). He drinks alcohol but it doesn't show on his face much. Not beer, but like Japanese hot sake (lol)

Sports: Swimming. In general he's useless at sports but he'd be like "swimming is the only thing I'm good at." He seems like he'd get a little excited while talking about swimming.

Music: He doesn't listen to music. He'll go to karaoke if someone brings him, though.

Cellphone: He updates it fairly regularly, but because he always waits for the price to go down, he always ends up with one that's two models behind (lol).

His part time job in college: Something loose, because he doesn't commit himself to things… Like maybe he worked at a convenience store.

His type: I feel like he dreams about someone with abstract qualities like being "kind" or "domestic". Just thinking about those words gets him all starry-eyed and sighing (lol).

Edgeworth's profile

Birthday: He's an Aries, which means he was born on April 2nd or later. Let's go with April 2nd (lol).

Blood type: Type AB, because I feel like his emotions kinda have peaks and valleys.

Birthplace: Chiba. At first I thought Ace Attorney took place in Soga (a city in Chiba Prefecture).

Non-work clothes: A jacket, but not like a suit jacket, more like a casual one. Like from Paul Smith or something.

Living situation: A normal apartment. A lot of his furniture is Japanese handicraft stuff, and I feel like he'd put a lot of money into making his place feel Japanese.

On his days off: He goes shopping or on walks and has an elegant lunch. If he drives a car, it would be a silver one (lol).

Hobbies: Collecting western antiques and Japanese handicrafts.

Favorite food: Taro and meat soup (imoni). He has a favorite deli in his neighborhood that makes it.

Luxury foods: Whiskey. He enjoys it on the rocks.

Sports: He used to play soccer, but now he does weight training. He's got a defined six-pack.

Music: jazz. He listens to it while drinking his whiskey. Eminem fills him with rage.

Cellphone: A normal one. He uses his computer to send emails so he really only uses it to talk.

His part time job in college: Administrative assistant. He'd help with paperwork only when the office was really busy.

His type: Someone who doesn't lie to him. I have nothing in particular to add to that.

[onyourhyuck]

The Tattoo Artist. | L.MK

— Prologue: “Since when did i get this tattoo?”

— Summary: Where one late night visit to your shop with a drunk man asking you to do his tattoo turns to an one night stand at your shop.

— Genre: Smut. Dom!mark. One night stand type of trope. Y/n!tattoo artist. Mark loves tattoos. Mention of alcohol use. Sex in a tattoo store. Mark hitting it from behind. Overstimulation. Unprotected sex. Squirting. Ass play. Mark really loves Y/n’s ass. lip ring MARK LEE. Plot twist at the end / Cliff Hanger.

— Notes:

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The night out was Mark’s typical routine. He leaves his apartment block and gets picked up by his two friends who accompany him to go out drinking and partying like every other night. Yuta and Johnny. These two boys are like glued on to Mark’s hips. However tonight it seems like they found themselves ladies and happen to be swooned.

Typical Yuta and Johnny, Mark thought.

They said it’s ‘boy’s night’ yet they always find themselves ladies to get distracted by and Mark was left either third wheeling or led to be alone drinking his single sorrows away.

Honestly Mark prefers it that way, being single. Less hassle to be dealing with relationships and the breakup that comes with it too. Mark can’t be dealing with a girl who complains about his lifestyle choices either. He’s too caught up in the present moment and he’s never thinking about the future. The man is doing what most men in their adulthood years do — drink, party, maybe get high or something along the way.

Then wake up the next day absolutely hungover to the point your memory couldn’t even remember what you ate yesterday. And then try to recount the times you drank last night because you’re grieving how bad the headache is. The cycle continues the following night on the same day. Your friends ask you to go out and Mark accepts because he cannot say no to free drinks.

It’s a struggle. It’s a blessing but a struggle. The idea feels good and then when the happy hours pass Mark feels completely utterly shit.

Mark tells himself ‘I quit drinking. It’s the last time I’m drinking this much’ and then? Contradicted his own statement. He gets drunk, drinks past the limits maybe even more than he drank last time.

Another thing Mark has a hard time saying no to?

Tattoos.

The one thing that Mark cannot say no to other than free alcohol would be tattoos. He already has four on his body and Mark finds them so fascinating. It’s like a way to express himself.

Guilty pleasure would be the best way to describe his relationship with the needing urging to cover all of his body in tattoos. However he knows he cannot do that. At least not unless he has the money to get every part of his body covered in ink.

The man dips the glass of cola and the whiskey he managed to mix together, and then Mark found himself watching his two friends flirt away and dance with the two ladies they found to be attracted to. He can’t believe he’s the one who got asked out by then and now he’s left alone to his own company. These two surely never understand what the bro code is. Mark found himself growing slightly eager so he spiced the drinks concentration up and decided to go for the heavier beverages now.

That night if you asked Mark how much he drank he couldn’t answer you clearly, because he drank a lot more. Mark managed to woo some people himself in the crowd whenever he dances and joins the huddle however the drunk he got the more indescribable feeling of the high notes Mark was feeling began to rub off on him. The man himself wasn’t anymore as sober as he wanted to be this night but, he was still able to walk a little and manage to speak.

You can say he build up the tolerance due to his alcoholic tendencies. Mark isn’t proud of it but he’s definitely grateful otherwise Mark would have passed out by now.

Passed out somewhere on the road, or maybe a bench at a park and slept there all through the night until the morning which is even scarier to Mark. Thankfully though he has a high tolerance and so his awareness was better than most.

The nightclub itself was getting too overwhelming for Mark and he managed to slip out and sent a text to Johnny and Yuta in their following group chat that he’s going to go home.

Or at least Mark said he was, that was until he got tired of waiting and then his eyes pitch on a white paper hung up on those wooden lamp street lights. The cab wasn’t going to get here anytime soon considering the night hours are always filled with other party wild animals that are booking them. Mark’s eyes were now glued tight on that paper with the large letters to him ‘Neo’s tattoo’s!’

He squints his eyes to get a better glance, the alcohol was really getting to his poor eye sight. He’s already half blind as a bat but with the alcohol doing it’s job, it’s safe to say Mark’s sight is equal to his own grandfather now.

But that paper got him intrigued and it spoke one word and one word only to convince Mark: He needs to get a new tattoo.

It might not be the time for that but who’s going to stop him? No one. Not even his friends could do that even if they were here in the moment with him Mark would not be able to budge away from his decision to change his mind. Mark was suddenly overlapping with curiosity and excitement, he wonders what tattoos do you make? And he wonders if your shop is nearby. When he looks back at that poster he checks the address and he realised the street; it’s in the same city he was in. Mark thought it’s destiny. What are the coincidences that the same shop he wants to find and get to is on the same area as the nightclub he was in right now?

Mark doesn’t believe in coincidences so that alone makes him a believer of fate, and fate alone. When the feet take steps forward now walking down the streets that are half empty filled with wind breeze and dusts of leaves panning over the roads, cars passing by especially taxis dropping off other people ready to go on the night out; it takes a long minute of Mark looking from each street to street determined in finding this tattoo shop.

It says the opening hours are until 3am. Mark has at least an hour to spare. He cannot be wasting any longer so Mark was quick on his feet running from direction to another space until,

The same building has appeared in front of him. The same exact place on the sheet of paper he found. Mark takes a quick glance from the paper to the real life building with the signs of neon green ‘NEO’S TATTOOS.’ And he found himself growing warm and excited. Mark drunk out of his mind now though and it seems like this made him even more delusional to think getting a tattoo whilst drunk was a brilliant idea.

“So this is the place?” Mark quips under the breath before reaching the palm on the doorknob opening the door. When entering a small ‘ring ring’ was heard by the bell clinking. It alerts a figure to walk in to greet him.

When the figure approached he looks slightly mesmerised by the young woman ahead of him. You look beautiful, which was a high compliment considering he doesn’t say it to anyone often.

Your eyebrows raise up at the man that looks like trouble and definitely smells like trouble; from one glance you can tell this man was absolutely steaming from head to toe, he was definitely drunk, it was very obvious in his eyes and how he lets them wander around your tattoo store. He saw the chairs, the tattoo sketches and designs hung up on the wall, as well as your equipment in the far back. It looks like you were about to close down but now that he’s arrived you look like you could use an extra customer for tonight. Because he’s not leaving until he gets a tattoo from you.

At this point it’s an addiction, a worse addiction than his love for alcohol. He’s obsessed with them.

You now spoke with a working smile. “What can i do for you? I was just about to close but i guess I can do a small tattoo if you’d want a quick one.” It could definitely help with the extra money so you’re thinking why not.

He comes forward as he sits down nodding. “Great, what do you usually draw? Can I see a sketch book if you have one?”

Your eyes turn to the back as you grab over a thick book full of your sketches and you hand it to him hoping he finds something he takes a liking to. You don’t have much time anyways so he’s going to have to be quick and snappy. Mark flips through pages checking the sketches meanwhile you’re here checking him out from head to toe, it’s not like you wanted to, but you can’t help but notice he has like four other tattoos already.

Mark wore a loose polo-sweatshirt over a white tee. The black hair loosely curled and messy it looks like the wind made it slightly more naturally lifted, it makes him look ten times more boyish in your opinion. The two ears were all pierced with earrings that dangle around it caught your eye the moment he stepped inside your store too, they shine and blind anyone that stares. Adding on the piercings he has, Mark happens to have a lip ring piercing on top of his lips. The right side was pierced and it made him even more attractive and unreal to you. What was happening to you? And who was this drunk guy wanting a tattoo from you?

It looks like he had quite a bit to drink too. It’s not a first time since you had a customer who came asking for a tattoo but it’s definitely a first time when that customer is drunk out of his brain.

But you can’t change that. You can’t even stop your customers if they want something because it’s up to them and their will alone.

Mark lifts his head up trailing as he was watching your sketch book with observant eyes, Mark has a sharp eye attention to detail and your work was truly remarkable. It captures certain emotions.

He looks at you now almost In admiration. “Your work is amazing. I must say I’m impressed with every one.” He then lifts the sketch book up and pints to the two wings that come along from two branch leaves. “But this one looks good. I want this one.” Mark said now as he treads his index finger on it pointing at the sketch picture.

Anyone could tell his words meant a lot to you because you gave him a humble smile but then you grab the sketch book looking at the tattoo. You wonder where he wants it tattooed now.

“Okay I can do this. Where do you want it tattooed?” Your question was heard when Mark laid down at the chair and gets himself comfortable while you grab your equipment. The ink pen was lifted and you push yourself on a red stool chair spinning yourself round to where Mark was laying on the salon chair.

He looks comfortable now on the salon chair and Mark looks over at you now that you got everything and your own tattoo table was prepared with the remaining ink and colours if he wanted any to the tattoo. It’s all up to him.

“I was thinking my neck?” Mark retorts back and you find yourself watching now the Adam’s apple and neck area of his. Your hands that are wearing gloves reach out to rub and feel it as you hum thinking.

You thought maybe it wasn’t a good idea but the tattoo would really compliment him if he had it there. You can’t help but think; Mark has a really good sense of position and where it can look the best. It’s something not many people who you tattooed for have. Mark has a strong sense of attention to detail you feel and you’re right.

“You have a keen eye. Okay I can do it but you’re going to have to be very still.” You warn now sternly and Mark can’t help but look away as you start to stick the sketch on his neck so you can copy the same picture on his skin with the following ink later on. The way you feel his neck tense up while you do this. It’s not even that you’re just too close up and Mark’s drunk mind was doing a lot more than just being patient to get the tattoo done.

Usually Mark was quiet. He doesn’t really speak or make any small conversations with other tattoo artists.

But he has the urge to start one now. Might be the alcohol making him want to speak or something. Or maybe he’s curious about you.

The store was rather quiet and because of the late hours it makes sense why it was so empty and isolated. It was just the two of you in a half dimly lit store with the tattoo artist so close to his neck sketching it with the running tattoo pen that’s now buzzing against his neck sending tiny electric vibrations through his body. It was a rather stingy pain but the pain was what made this all a running fun cycle for Mark, because it was something that he feels and Mark’s addicted to it.

In a way it was because of the process too. Mark just loves to see people be able to draw such a thing on human skin.

The quiet place grew even more dark but the dimly lit fairy lights made this store a little more appealing and refreshing. It felt like you’re so focused you couldn’t see Mark’s eyes on the side watching you. With the corner of his eye Mark saw your concentration mode on. The way your eyes were never blinking or batting an eye away. Your nose long and still, your eyebrows arched forward as you’re bend down over to the neck area tattooing with the ink gun sketching it out. It leaves you in your own thoughts and the man in front of you wonders what you’re thinking of? Silence is a fine tailor and it suits you perfectly because you’re a tailor threading every bit of ink on his beautiful soft neck.

It didn’t help because Mark wasn’t the only one that’s been stunned because he was checking you out. Not sure if it was because of how drunk he was but maybe also considering the closeness between you two.

His eyes were looking down at your cleavage. You wore this white tank top on which leaves certain parts of you exposed. And your beautiful hair tucked into a messy-ish bun. Your appearance was slightly rough but very artistic because you had tattoos yourself around your arm and fingers. They were small tattoos but Mark loved them on you.

He’s always loved tattoos on other people too. He wonders if there’s any meanings for you behind them?

“I notice you have tattoos, what’s the meaning behind them?” Mark now acquired to know because he wishes to get to know you some more and might as well right?

It’s just the two of you alone in your tattoo shop. And Mark was feeling like a chatter box. This might just be because he’s drunk or perhaps he’s curious about you and the silence was killing him.

Your eyebrows rose up as you heard the silence break between the two and you were not expecting him to go suddenly all asking questions on you. He looks like the silent type. Mark usually never really speaks during getting tattoos or anything like that but with you? Mark feels like he has to ask otherwise his curiosity will be killing him all night and he won’t be able to sleep afterwards.

You bring your face back up away from his neck. Your eyes meet his and you watch him waiting for your answer. Honestly you found your meaning to the tattoos not be as interesting to share so you always found it unnecessary to bring out their meaning. Afterall to you it’s just ink on your body and there wasn’t a whole deep thinking process behind it like Mark is thinking of.

In a way the meaning behind your tattoos it’s kinda silly.

“The one on my fingers is a tiny heart matching with my friend who has the other half of the heart.” When you reveal it Mark’s eyes light up. That was cute, you’re matching with a friend.

Mark found himself liking the idea honestly. He always wanted to match a tattoo with someone from his friends but no one wanted a tattoo and he’s the only guy who actually has a tattoos. Mark asked Yuta once but Yuta said he might do it. Though that’s been a year now and it looks like the idea left his friend’s mind.

Mark chuckles. “I’m jealous. I’ve always wanted to match tattoos with someone.” You smirk and raise an eyebrow. “How come you don’t match with anyone?”

Your eyes make eye contact as you ask. Mark trials softly in a slight sarcastic way. “Well I think it’s quite obvious but because none of my friends really like tattoos.”

‘Oh so he can be sarcastic too?’ You find his words to be amusing because they’re all out of a bantering gesture and so you don’t pay much mind to the words and just take it all in. You nod at him chuckling back now as your head leans forward to now tattoo the rest of it.

Your fingers brush along the tattoo bow and you feel like this was all coming along now definitely. The tattoo was done nearly but all you have to do is tidy the edges up and do more polishing, which won’t take a while. The tattoo is pretty simple and clean. And Mark looks amazing with it so far. Your eyes can’t help but shake the feeling that he gets more attractive.

Mark’s voice comes out now again, he asked another question. “So why did you become a tattoo artist?” And you suck in a little breath. He really likes to ask deep questions doesn’t he?

You completely dodge the question by countering it.

“Are you always this talkative with your other tattoo artists?” You point out as you’re trying to concentrate on finishing this up, you really don’t have much time until you gotta close down the shop and everything.

Mark was himself not knowing why he’s so talkative with you because usually he was the quiet type during the tattoo appointments and what not. In a way he doesn’t speak unless the other person was carrying the conversation.

Mark smirks a little. “Only with you actually.”

You scoff not believing that considering how many times he wants to speak to you. You finish the last moments of the tattoo and look back at the handsome man who sits up on the salon chair checking the mirror.

“You like it?” You ask when he’s watching the tattoo in the mirror as you’re trying to read his facial expression for a way to know if he likes the tattoo or if he doesn’t perhaps. You pray that he does because you cannot go back to fix it either.

Mark turns to you now as the mirror in his hand was dropping back down and the upside face he had on turns to a smile.

“Answer my question first and I’ll answer yours if i like it or not.” He now said and you find yourself becoming cornered.

Was he really that into the idea of getting to know you? Not as a tattoo artist only but as a person as well? You’re left here wondering why he’s so curious about you.

Mark’s eyes were deeply staring into you which never leave your face the moment he walked into the store anyways and he found himself completely mesmerised. You look boyish and rough out but he likes how it suits you and your alternative style almost.

He whispers in a taunting gaze on his face. “So what will it be darling?” Mark waits for your reply and you let out a little frown stepping forward closing your gap only a little. There was still a bit of space between the both of you from where he sat and where you stood in front of Mark.

“It’s fine you don’t have to tell me how you feel, i can just read your expression and know you like it very much. I don’t leave my customers unsatisfied anyways.” You now point out smartly but in a very arrogant speaking way and Mark smirks hearing your words. You never leave a customer unsatisfied?

“Well I’m a very unsatisfied customer right now.” He tells you with emphasis on the specific wordings now as he stares into your beautiful eyes.

Well he’s now going to push his luck with you that’s for sure. The flirty expression you’re giving him as him thinking you’re definitely now flirting and giving Mark an opening block to take.

“Oh? Why don’t you show me with what.” Your lips pucker into a little amused grin. “Perhaps I can help you out…”

And he did take the opportunity. He seized the opportunity when you said those words out of your loving mouth as his hands around your waist slither round like a fashionable belt.

Oh how good it felt to be pulled closer by the waist to the drunken stranger you just met and you’re now closing the space when you feel how hot his intoxicated breath feels on top of your nose and cheekbones. You find yourself imagining just how good it must be to kiss Mark and the boy read your mind because the next minute he leans down to capture a kiss together.

You found yourself groaning the minute he kissed you with his belting tongue.

The kiss was a mixture between two beverages; to Mark you’re like wine. You’re strong and you knew what you want from the get-go. And he’s like whiskey unpredictable and intense. Mark defeats your groans with his own as he kissed you with more tugging force than before as his palms on the sides of your face go reach to deepen the kiss making it much more steamy and aggressive.

Groans of your voice muffled as if they were buried by sand underneath it. Your lips gracefully touch between Mark’s sharp teeth grazing at the bottom lip he pulls on it which made you moan as your eyes squint forward.

Saliva connects the both of you which drove Mark over the edge and so did the boner between his pants very much so, he had that for over an hour with you. You’re just too attractive and the closeness earlier had him itching to get his hands on you.

Mark doesn’t usually sleep around with people but when he does it’s always a good time, it has to be someone he finds a connection with and you happen to be one of those very few people.

It wasn’t just because of your attractiveness but also because of how well your conversations bounce back. Mark knew you were a little stubborn because when he lifts you up to switch the position between you both your voice comes out as a groan and it seems like you were playing hard to get knowing your hands were teasing the hem of his boxers under the lower clothing.

“Take them off, darling.” Mark said demanding to you smirking as he feels your fingers play between the boxers now. You look up sheepishly.

You’re enjoying how needy this drunk man was, you can’t even remember if he said his name to you but you enjoy seeing his reactions to your difficult self and your teasing tactics. “What if i refuse?”

You saw how his expression falters into a scared one when you said that you’ll refuse to take off his clothing and he leans closer to kiss your neck, practically whining now.

“Please… Y/n… be good to me.”

‘Oh god he’s whining… that’s hot.’ You can’t help but fall for the idea even more, maybe it doesn’t hurt to continue a little bit more. You tell yourself this but you knew it’s risky. But you’re so tempted to take that risk and continue this. Even if you’re the sober one you’re so swayed by this man in front of you.

The moment you heard his pleading words, only directed to you, it makes your body act on its own and so your lips reconnect with Mark’s and your hands find themselves slipping off his shirt and then the oversized black cargos he wore. The boxers playfully rubbed by your fingertips around made Mark so peevish because you heard the querulous words that are nothing but needy whines to your ears telling you to take them off. Your eyes met his words coming out his mouth as you let your mouths connect into another hungry kiss while slipping your hand into his boxers to feel how harden his wood was and you’re left gasping when Mark grabs your hips and starts to work his way around your own clothing now. You feel your cheeks expand as the kiss goes on and on. Mark was an amazing kisser, you have to admit. He knows exactly how to get you going.

At once your nudity became a blessing to Mark as he feels himself growing even more greedy. Having you look so good and untouched by him was temptation in disguise. You feel your breasts fondled with roughly by a tight and firm squeeze from his hands. The lips around your neck marvel at your glowing skin. The simply stunning eyes of yours close and open at each pleasuring angle when he kissed you even lower than before.

“Please don’t keep me waiting.” You sigh into the air as your head flung back. You don’t want to wait as much as you wanted to anymore.

Your body was just growing to want him.

Mark stood with his furtive body when you said this and the playful eyebrows raise up at you enjoying how vocal you’re becoming. Now look where the table’s turned? You’re the one begging him now. He enjoys it much more than he thought he would so he runs along his hand by your silhouette until they met your hips and he slowly moves them around.

Twisting you around he saw you gandering your face in the behind direction where he stood now towering you leaving no space and your ass rubbing on his erected boner. Mark rubs them between your ass cheeks as his wispy groan reaches your ears. You bite your bottom lip. “Shit… please fuck me already.”

You’re lacking the patience. This man needs to be inside you or else you’re going to have a breakdown.

Mark smirks leaning closer with his nipping voice that cuts you open like scissors across light paper. “I think we should introduce ourselves before you say that don’t you think?”

He was right but now picking a time to introduce yourselves? He knew what he was doing he’s just making you wait a little longer.

Your face diminished and broke down in to a hefty storm. Mark purposely rubs his cock’s tip between your entrance to tease you while waiting for you to start. “Fine…My name is Y/n… what’s yours?” Your voice came off much short because he made your own sound of your voice to differ when the tip rubs the top of your ass.

“Mark… Mark Lee.” He whispers now and he’s satisfied. He gotta know who he is going to fuck after all and he wants you to know what name you’re going to scream all night.

Your leering eyes went down when a prod between your walls now sips on a long thick shaft deeply inside you. Your voice cuts off by a palm on top of your mouth and you’re muffling your sudden jolting voice because of how intensely he has you stretching. You’ve never been this surprised by how thick he was. Mark was making you wistfully begging to have more.

“Oh fuck… please Mark… just fuck my brains out.” You’re not able to calm the storm before anything else you’re just begging the guy you met in your tattoo storm a hour ago to fuck the shit out of you.

It’s so unlike your character, but Mark had you twisted.

He paced forward rutting the hips against your round beautifully shaped ass he couldn’t get enough of, heck, he was so obsessed with it especially when you’re forced into a behind position over the salon chair to get your back blown out by him. It was a sight that made his night more memorable even if he was slightly intoxicated he found himself becoming drunk off you now.

And the paces was so eager and quick your insides feel like you’re being roughly pushed through a moving platform in and out. It feels so good when his length kisses each of your sweet sensitive spots inside and then finds places you never knew someone could reach so deep inside you. It made you even closer because Mark had a hand under your stomach area holding you even closer than before, it’s like this man wants you to be a part of him at this point. He’s a wild animal, and he’s definitely treating you like one because he’s doing exactly as you told him to do: to fuck your brains out.

Colliding with the movements between your two asscheeks Mark follows his eyes down and slams his hands on your beautiful skin giving you spanks with each incoming shift his thrusts make. You feel yourself seeping out your moans and the tattoo store was echoing all your body parts slapping together. You feel him being so deeply inside you that your lower stomach with his hand on felt the imprinting cock in your guts and that your arms were folded forward in a weak lowering form over the salon chair. He keeps fucking you so hard you’re struggling to stand still. He made your legs so weak you found yourself only moaning out to the top of your lungs and Mark had you exactly how he wanted, a mess.

His eyes burned with lust watching over your expression seeing how your eyebrows were fluttering and your eyes were watering with how good and intense he was fucking you from behind, you’re bend over for a customer you just met for the first time and you feel so sheepishly embarrassed but at the same time; why was it such a turn on?

“Is this what you wanted on a Friday night?” Mark whispers dangerously on top of your earlobe as you find a shudder across your spine, Mark’s hands brush alongside your silhouette arching for him, bending for him and only him.

You feel your lips pucker out and the condescending tone Mark spoke with to you makes your stomach flutter. “You’re such a whore Y/n… I bet you’d fuck any of your customers if they got their hands on you.” He threads like a champ he was, because he had you wrapped around his finger.

“N-no… that’s not true.” You said embarrassed because it was definitely easy to tease you in this position and situation.

Mark laughs a little darkly behind and you feel the thrusts increase even more, he was literally ramming inside you and your voice cuts off with a jolting sound. Your body pressed so deeply on the salon chair you feel the metallic parts of the arms stand coldly pressing against your body full of heat.

“I don’t believe that.” He croaks out leaning down to press a kiss against your spine while the lower body of his was jabbing the pleasuring thrusts and the hand down at your stomach holding you moves even lower to touch on your clit.

The nub down below becomes easily swollen with how his fast two middle fingers press and flick it as he’s thrusting you. Your voice became even more loud now because the overstimulated hand on your clit was pleasuring you there but so was his hard cock deeply buried to kiss the top of your womb.

“Pretty whores listen to me, will you be good and do the same?” He now asked you while his hands was abusing your down regional and you grab the salon chair feeling so weak to the pleasure your mind went poof and became blank.

Your hips stutter and so did your legs that resemble jello and it makes Mark smirk. The sight of you pressed in her own store while getting her back blown out by a customer she met, it definitely was something he’s never going to let go off.

“Y-yeah… hhgh I can’t last like this Mark…” You nod your head frantically but the way you’re literally holding on to your last strand because the orgasm was reaching you so quickly.

You’re not going to last much, Mark knows it.

The hand speeds up the movements however, he wants you to finish and see you come undone to the too overlapping pleasures between your hole and your clit getting abused out by him. You firmly shut your eyes.

“Cum darling, you’ve been good so far.” Mark sternly said while he awaits you to reach your end. The world stops for you in that moment.

When he gave you the permission to come undone on his hand and cock at the same time, you found yourself ascending and your head hung low as your body pushed out your liquid down on the ground dripping. You’re soaking if anything. Mark had a proud wide grin on his face now and goes behind to kiss your droopy mouth panting. The lip ring touched your mouth as the kiss was sloppy from behind.

You moan when Mark pulls away from the kiss and his hand leaves your clit alone. Your own orgasm pushed him very close to his own high. He just needs to have a few more thrusts and Mark feels himself becoming done too.

It’s the way your body was making him feel so good too. It’s no doubt your bodies are compatible.

“Hmm… you’re a squirter? That’s so hot.” He jeers at you with both devastated degradation and flirtation behind that tone.

You roll your eyes back in the aftermath of the pleasure. This was probably your first time ever having this much of an orgasm. You don’t remember ever squirting before.

“Fuck…” You whisper under your breath when Mark pulls your hips forward and makes your body stand up straight again because you’re now becoming too weak to even make yourself stand up in this behind position, your orgasm had your legs turning into weak muscles.

Mark whispers now warningly. “Now let me cum yeah? Be good and let me pump you up full of my load.”

You feel your eyes igniting like big red flames at the idea. When Mark starts to thrust again your body starts to break down even more down to the pleasure.

It was all too much but you can tell from how deep he’s reaching you this man won’t be able to last very long. Your walls squeezing him around the shape we’re making it so hard.

Mark was pumping himself until he can feel his cock literally tremble to continue anymore. And you feel the salon chair shake with each rough patching movement against your body rocking it forwards.

The store lets the body slapping between your sweating bodies to continue as you’re in your own world together. Mark had you pulling up against him as he lets your breasts flow with the rough movements of rocking you forward until he has his own orgasm itching at the door.

You feel your heart pace up when you heard Mark groan softly against your back. “Fuck fuck fuck…” and you just knew he was so close now, because his voice felt like a mixture of a whine and a groan.

The silky velvet walls of yours had him begging to pump you full of his cum and have you dripping out only of him. To have you ooze only him out and that’s exactly what he wants.

He wants you full and stuffed of him.

“So… so close, Y/n… fuck…” Mark’s whiny whispers were caught off at the end a little as he takes a deep breath in and within the same moment he kept up the thrusts.

Even if it was so difficult to continue to stimulate himself until he’s reaching his end, Mark finds himself addicted to the way your womb welcomes him. It feels so good, so much he couldn’t shake the feeling of it away.

Mark jerks forward and then suddenly a cry out was heard with Mark burying his head between your nape and shoulder area, he squeezed himself around your walls so deep you feel the load practically injected inside you. You let out a soft groan at the feeling that you’re being held so tight as Mark slips himself inside you even more to fuck a little bit of his own cum in you to ensure it won’t all fall out.

You feel like your body was melting when Mark huffs out a few burning words from his lips. You find yourself stuck with this man all night…

You wonder if he’s going to remember anything in the morning. Or if he won’t?

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The next morning Mark woke up in his bed completely wrecked and exhausted. Unaware of what’s happened last night it’s like deja vu to him.

Whenever he drinks alcohol he cannot remember a single freaking thing and Mark was in the cycle where he’s telling himself off for drinking way too much.

“I should really stop with the alcohol…” Mark equips with disappointment in his voice, he really should stop.

Walking across the room he was shirtless wearing only grey sweatpants and he slowly moves out of his room to see his roommate Donghyuck already up in the kitchen.

They lived together for nearly a year now. Donghyuck was a year younger than Mark but they’re pretty close now.

Although sometimes they fight, they both really feel like they’re close like brothers. Mark with his tired expression and groggy eyes opens the fridge and yawns into his hand.

“You’re up?” Donghyuck smirks as he saw how hungover his friend was, god he always looks like a mess when he goes out with Johnny and Yuta.

Mark hums grabbing the bottle of milk and pours himself a glass. “God you look like shit.” Donghyuck said now with a little laugh.

The boy wanted to roll his eyes and say how nice of you but instead Mark just drank the glass of milk to neutralise hopefully his stomach otherwise he will be having a hard day ahead.

Hungovers are so bad. He just wished he didn’t drink so much last night but he’s always like this. Mark has no self control at all.

What’s worse?

Mark can’t even remember what happened at all last night. He’s just a blank canvas now. Everytime he drinks Mark couldn’t remember anything even if he tried to remember and make himself forced to see what happened last night he just can’t.

So not only was he left feeling utterly crap. Mark was also having a hard time what happened.

“I’m never drinking again.” Mark said with a sigh out once he finally finished drinking the glass of milk. He puts it down in the sink and Donghyuck knows Mark won’t keep to those words.

He wants to tell Mark he needs to stop lying to himself but he doesn’t say anything because his eyes caught on Mark’s neck something.

Donghyuck comes a closer to Mark now with squinting eyes. He recognised something different about him. “Hey Mark did you get a new tattoo last night?”

“What? No…” Mark said with a soft rejection because he certainly doesn’t remember getting one. He slowly moves to his room opening the closet to look in a mirror and when he saw that Donghyuck was actually right…

His eyes widen and he runs his hands over the tattoo that stings a little at the same time, he wonders when did he get this tattoo?

The tattoo was beautiful and it was delicately done. It was two wings crossing together and Mark wonders if he got this done when he was absolutely hammered because if that’s the case, Mark feels so dumb. He can’t even remember the night or anything like that.

Mark whispers in disbelief. “Since when did i get this tattoo?”

He’s a little determined to know who did this work, but he cannot remember anything, the next thing he knew he saw his phone buzz open with messages from late night.

One that came from the contact name: The Tattoo Artist.

The Tattoo Artist: Hey Mark had fun last night. I hope you like your tattoo and you can come by round the shop sometime! :) -Y/n

One thing he knows for sure, he had your number and he now knows your name which rings a bell to him. It’s like his body remembers you but his brain cannot. It’s like he knows you guys did something more than just a tattoo because the text messages says it all.

Mark is definitely meeting you again, to get a new tattoo, or to end up drunk at your store again.

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@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work thank youu! Reblog this fic and follow me for more updates it helps a girl out. <3

[jackdelroys]

[apology] for jack delroy, if you want!!! so glad people are writing for this man 🙏

super excited to write for him!! he's everything 🫶 thank you for the request! i could talk for hours about jack and the psychology behind him auuugh

[ apology ] a kiss offered as a way to apologize or make amends

THE last thing he'd expected when he entered his dressing room was to see you, perched carefully on the couch that lined the far wall. You'd taken the liberty of making yourself a drink, a question he didn't have to even ask, not with the way you'd motioned the glass towards the minibar adjacent to your seat.

"I didn't know you were here," he muttered, glancing out the doorway cautiously before shutting the door and locking it, "I looked for you. I haven't seen you all night."

You shrugged, explaining that you'd come late.

The casual tone of your response eased his tensions. He tosses the jacket of his suit aside, pulling his tie loose and approaching the bar himself. He pours his usual, and takes a sip as the bitter twang of alcohol and mixers hit his tongue.

"You did great tonight."

He turns, hearing how close you are. As he looks you over, a sigh escapes him, and with it the lingering anxiety that he generally carried post-show. He comments on the outfit you've worn -- you look nice. The way he says it, so quietly, so earnestly is almost jarring compared to the Jack you've just watched on the stage set for the past hour or so; But at the same time, it doesn't worry you. This is the Jack saved for you, the one that's opened up to you alone, in private.

There's something so endearing about it, the idea, and he can see you thinking, with a questioning look does he lean forward just slightly, and with reassurance and a light but dismissive laugh do you meet him halfway, pressing your lips to his. He looks nice, too.

You taste like cherry. It's sweet and simple and easy to remember, and he'll never admit it but it's the reason he always restocks the flavored cola in the minibar every week. He likes being able to remember you like this, so sweet and pretty and gentle -- or maybe not so much gentle as it was calculated, he changes his mind as he feels your fingers tug at the hair at the base of his neck.

He allows an arm to slip around your waist and he pulls you to him, not so much caring now if his neatly pressed shirt wrinkles, or stains for that matter, as he fumbles his drink and spills some between yourselves and the carpet. With both hands free, it's easier to maneuver you until you're hoisted onto the bar's flat-topped surface anyhow.

"I'm sorry I was late," you offer, pushing away from his eyes the bangs that have come loose in all of their meticulously, promenade-drenched elegance.

"Don't apologize," you can barely hear him over the way he's buried himself in your neck now, between kisses and half-taken breaths he's still trying to refill his drink, all the while distracting you with the way his mouth feels against your skin.

You don't know how long you stay there like that, with his wandering hands and other affections, but by the time you're stumbling out of the dressing room into the empty studio, you're as drunk on his kisses as he is his whiskey, and you're taking his keys and offering (without taking no for an answer) to at least drive him home safely. He's wearing that goofy grin again, the one he puts on for the cameras, as he hands them to you, his touch lingering on your palm.

"Y'really think I did good today?"

You nod, nudging him in the direction of the passenger seat.

"You did perfect, baby."

Perfect, baby.

Even through his drunken haze, he giggles, in a giddy sort of way. Even if you'd said it to appease him, he liked the sound of it.

It was definitely something he could get used to.

[inkmonster21]

Sing for Me

5. Devoted to You

Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader / The Ghoul x Fem!Reader

She's a singer the nation adores. He's the actor everyone respects. What happens when these two get entangled in a heated affair? Passion, regret, rage, and even murder will commence. From before the bombs drop to the vast wasteland, these two souls live for one another.

Previous Chapter

Series Masterlist

Tagged: @fallout-girl219 @harmfulb1tch @themadhattersqueen

We pull up to the Howard residence. Each step of the entrance was familiar under my feet. The once relaxing walls now filled shoulder to shoulder with pricks. It’s lively, with music playing and guests exchanging conversation. I didn’t seem to recognize many people majority of them being Vault Tech employees. Louis grabs a couple of drinks before dragging Heather and her boyfriend away to meet people.

“This ain’t much of a party. Looks like a big business deal.” Johnny notes. I shake my head in disappointment. “This party sucks. Just wait until you come to the after-parties of the tour. They’re so fun.” Johnny smirks as he swipes two glasses of whisky. I hate whisky. Cooper would’ve never gotten me a glass of whiskey. He knows my favorite wine and would have it on tap waiting for me.

We made acquaintance with a few people on the camera crew. One happened to be an assistant on the set of a music video I made a while back. “I LOVED that song!” She sings it drunkenly causing me to laugh. I took pictures with several of the Vault Tech employees mimicking my famous Nuka Cola pose. Little by little the night eased with the whiskey. I was relaxed. Given it had something to do with the amount of drugs and alcohol in my system but I’ll take happiness as it comes.

Now outside in the large gazebo in the garden we loudly socialize. Johnny sits smoking away, Heather and her boyfriend are all cuddling up talking to some other couple, Louis is in the middle sweet-talking some businessman for all he’s worth, and here I am swaying drunkenly to a song in my head in the middle of the freshly cut grass.

I spot a familiar figure exiting the house. The skinny guy walking down our way. “My piano man! Henry!” I laugh with open arms beckoning him into a hug. His face is bright red as he pulls away. “(Y/n), it… it’s so good to see you. I didn’t think you would remember me.”

“Friends, this is Henry MacLean. He can play the piano like no other. On the spot too!” My group welcomes him in nicely, all of us too buzzed to give a damn. Johnny stands with a smile, “there’s a piano inside.” I look at him and scoff, “Ah, don’t make me sing.”

Henry shrugs, certainly not going to turn down the opportunity to play for me. “I can play by ear,”

“You should've heard her earlier in the shower. She was singing this beautiful song. I had never heard it before.” Heather says as she leans up. “That’s because it’s unreleased. I’m still working on it. It’s a new project.” Heather frowned, “it was so beautiful but sounded so sad.” I shrug, “All my songs can't be happy.” Especially when all I can compose is depressing ballads. The only emotion I can feel when I try to write a song is want, and an ache burns in my chest. I want Cooper. I dream of a life where we were together. I love him, and I forever will. I am bound to him as roots are to a tree. Never seen, hidden beneath the beautiful growth of nature.

Johnny tosses his arm over my shoulders. “Come on everyone, Miss America here is going to sing us a song.”

~

I walk down the steps leading to the pool, “Excuse me. Your wine.” I place my cigarette in the glass before passing the waitress and sitting in front of my friend, “Well, shit, Seabass. You might be the only one of my invites who actually showed up.” He nods with a small smile. “Not all true, (y/n) seems to be having a swell time.” I look in the direction of his gesture. She’s swaying in the grass barefoot, without a care. A pure beauty in the mixture of facade company. I would give anything to go over to her, sweep her off her feet, and drag her to the bedroom. Peppering her skin with kisses as I make up for the time I have lost with her.

I suck in a breath, returning to the conversation at hand. “Not our usual scene, I’ll give you that.” He hums with a flat smile, “I think our Hollywood actor friends don’t want to be seen celebrating with the pitchman for the end of the world.” I shake my head, “Oh, you don’t know the half of it. You hear I lost a movie over these ads?” He looks at me in all seriousness, “No.” “Yeah, showed up to set, the actors wouldn’t come out of their trailers. Bonnie Lewis said it was on moral grounds.”

He scoffs, “Bonnie Lewis? She’s done more ads than a fucking billboard.”

At that point, I couldn’t help but hear the annoying voice of (y/n)‘s friend. “Come on everyone, Miss America here is going to sing us a song.” They trail past us, his arm thrown over her shoulder so casually. He smiles at me as they pass. She avoided all eye contact. I may not be able to touch her, but I can still allow myself the pleasure of watching her perform, especially since I am the host. It would be rude of me to not attend.

~

We stand in the large living room, Johnny clinking his glass catching everyone's attention. "If I could have everyone's attention!" All eyes on us, Johnny holds me out at arm's distance. "Who wants to hear my girl sing?" The applause begins, as it always does. Henry sits at the piano I lean over humming the intro to him. I turn back to the crowd, and I see him. Clad in a black shirt his hair brushed and jelled to perfection. I intake a brethe. The corner of his lip twitches, threatening a smile.

"Well, this is a very special night. I'm so thankful to Vault Tech for looking toward the future and keeping us American citizens safe. As a token of gratitude, I would like to perform a song that I've been working on. I hope you enjoy." I end the speech looking into Cooper's eyes, this song was for him after all. The piano starts slow, I take a deep breath in begin to sing.

"Guess mine is not the first heartbroken

My eyes are not the first to cry

I'm not the first to know

There's just no getting over you"

Cooper watches intensely as I sing. I look towards him touching my chest.

"I know I'm just a fool who's willing

To sit around and wait for you

But baby, can't you see there's nothing else for me to do?

I'm hopelessly devoted to you"

I was devoted to him. Even if I were to date someone, hell even marry them. I wouldn't ever be able to let go of my feelings for him. I burned for him, I craved him, I couldn't live without him.

"But now there's nowhere to hide

Since you pushed my love aside

I'm out of my head

Hopelessly devoted to you"

He took a step forward, beckoning to my call, to my song, to my soul. I was indeed out of my head for him. I was trying to replace the missing touches and whispers with drugs and alcohol. He was my cure. Sadly, he was unreachable. So all I could do was fall deeper down into the hole, only dreaming of him.

"My head is sayin', "Fool, forget him"

My heart is sayin', "Don't let go

Hold on to the end", that's what I intend to do

I'm hopelessly devoted to you"

I would wait for him, in this world, or the next. Maybe we got the timing wrong, but one thing was true. Our souls were meant to love one another. Cooper stares at me as a starved man looks at his first meal. Moving closer to the stage he acts as a lion, priding through his field, coming to take what belongs to him.

"But now there's no way to hide

Since you pushed my love aside

I'm outta my head

Hopelessly devoted to you"

I lean down, reaching out, directing my attention to Cooper. Silently, begging him to grasp my hand, hold me tight, and tell me everything was okay. One more step would be all it takes for us to be in the vicinity. "Hopelessly devoted to you," Cooper nods, understanding my message. I would wait for him. Unhealthy, and toxic, but I would do it just for him.

Applause rings out loudly breaking my trance. I back away from Cooper, now feeling the tears in my eyes. I smile at everyone, waving as I exit the living room, dashing for the door. The overwhelming emotions threatened to tip over. I was spiraling, without him. My soul was starving without its flame.

I made it down the driveway until a hand caught my wrist. "Stop, honey. For me, please." I turn to see Cooper. His finger curled around my wrist softly. Tears flowing down my cheeks I attempted to tear my arm from his grasp. I was drowning in a sea of emotions. I didn’t know if I wanted to yell at him or throw myself into his arms. He keeps his grip firm, placing his other hand on my bicep. “(Y/n)”, he breathes out as if I’m a dream.

I feel myself filling with rage, tears still streaming down my face. “What? What the fuck could you possibly have to say to me?” He stays silent, eyes begging, but I continue to chastise him. “You used me. You disrespected me. You coaxed my feelings, hopes, and dreams out. You learned how I ticked, and you used me to your advantage. So, please tell me, Cooper,” his mouth slightly gaping, he draws in closer. “What the fuck do you have to say now?”

Cooper pushes me against the wall of the entrance gate, shielded by the trees. His hands attach to my waist with force. Our foreheads together, our lips begging to touch. He licks his lips, never looking away from my eyes. “I… I'm sorry. Honey, I’m so sorry.” He grapples onto my body, holding me close. Pressed firmly against him I shutter. I shake my head, my thoughts fighting against the moment. “Cooper, we, we can’t. Your wife-“

“I love you.”

Cooper stares at me with overflowing eyes. So much pent-up emotion and passion was threatening to release. He breathes me in, trailing his nose up my neck, “I love you, (y/n).” Our lips hover over each other. I hold every restraint I can. I sigh in disbelief, I want it to be true, I’ve dreamed of this. Hearing those words spoken from his mouth. “I love you.” He says it again, almost in realization. He stares into my soul, allowing his to reach in and cradle my lonely heart. He massages my waist, a choked breath leaving his body, “say something, darlin’.”

I bring my hands to his chest, clawing at his shirt. “Coop, you’re married.” He shakes his head, “I’ll leave.” I scoff, “you said that before.” He holds my cheek with one hand, his other wrapped securely around my waist. “I will, I promise. I… I can’t lose you. Fuck if I lose everything else, I won’t lose you.”

He leans in with force, sealing our lips together. this moment it feels like fate. His hands move from my waist to the sides of my face, cradling my cheeks with surprising gentleness. The kiss is passionate, tender, everything I wanted. Our hands roaming across each other, he pushes me deeper into the metal gate. I moan out, shaking for him.

“(Y/n)?” I jump back at Louis’ voice. He’s walking down the driveway looking left and right. I move to leave, but Cooper pulls me back. Hands still on my cheek he nuzzled our noses together. “(Y/n), please, give me time.”

I smile, pulling him down once more, “I would wait 200 hundred years to love you, Cooper Howard.” His charming smile lights up the night. I slip away from him and catch up with Louis as he slips into the car. “Where did you run off to?” I watch the tree line near the gate, Cooper stands, hand sun his pants pockets as he watches me. “Just to get some air.”

[yikesharringrove]

He didn’t mean to hightail it straight to the nearest bar. He didn’t even know what a dive bar a was doing out in the fucking backwoods of Indiana, anyway.

Billy’d just gotten in a big fuckin’ fight with his old man, shimmied out the window of their new house, and started walking.

And he happened across a bar.

He didn’t have his wallet on him, rookie move, but he figured his black eye and three-day-old moving stubble might help him out a bit here.

The bouncer gave him an odd look, glaring him down as he approached, but let him pass without asking for identification.

There were motorcycles parked in the gravel lot, along with some sensible looking Mom Cars.

It was dim inside, and the floor was kinda sticky, but they were playing Patti Smith on a shitty jukebox, so he decided to stay.

He took a seat at the bar.

The bartender gave him the same funny look the bouncer did. She was one hell of a woman, her leather jacket had a pair of handcuffs sewn onto the front, she had her nose, lips, and eyebrows pierced. Her hair was greying and cropped into a very similar crew cut to Neil’s.

“What’ll it be?”

“Whiskey, please. And maybe a beer, Darling.” He winked.

She laughed.

“Honey, you know where you are, right? This is a fuckin’ dyke bar, and you’re no older than sixteen. You’ll have a pop and you’ll be grateful for it.” She had a slight southern drawl to her voice. Texas. Like his mom.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Okay, quit it with that shit.” She scooped ice into a glass, and poured him a cola from the well. “Why you here? It got somethin’ to do with that shiner?”

He took a long drink of the soda.

He didn’t know if it was her voice, or the fact that for the first time in a long time, he was with his own people.

“Yeah.”

“Someone at home?”

“Yeah.”

“‘Cause you’re a homo?”

“Yeah.”

She smiled at him, although this one wasn’t the sad one he’d been expecting. It was understanding.

“We’ll, Baby. You come here if you ever need a safe place to roost, okay? We all know when one of our own needs saving. You come here, and you ask for Susan, and we’ll get your mind off that bruise.”

He took another long drink of his soda, but this time, to try and swallow down the stupid sob that was trying to force its way out.

“Thank you. I’m, I didn’t realize what kind of bar this is. I didn’t really know that people like us were out here. My dad, he, uh, moved us here. From California. He caught me with a boy.” He averted his gaze from Susan’s face, making patterns in the condensation on the side of his glass. Patti Smith turned over to The Runaways. Some women were dancing by the jukebox now. “He told me we were coming here so I couldn’t do any of that fairy shit.” He furrowed his brow on the last line, puffing up his chest in an imitation of his father.

“Just because people hate us more here, doesn’t mean we don’t exist. Queers live everywhere, whether people like your daddy like it or not. He can’t stop us from living any better than he can stop the sun from rising.”

Susan scooped some ice into a clean bar towel, securing it closed with the yellow crunchy around her wrist. She slid it across the bar to Billy, and he put it on his eye gratefully.

“Don’t lose that scrunchy. That’s my wife’s favorite one, and she won’t speak to me for a month if I give it to some kid.”

“Yeah? Your old lady a hardass?” Billy grinned.

There was something, so fucking good, about talking to Susan. Talking to an actual fucking grown up. Someone with a life, and a partner. A queer, like him, who actually found love. And, by the dreamy grin on her face, had found happiness.

“Hollie would yell herself hoarse is she heard you call her old. She don’t look a day over thirty-five, she’ll tell you. We’ve been together for over twenty years. That’s why she’s my wife. We can’t get married yet, but she’s not my fucking girlfriend. We’re not silly high schoolers goin’ to the prom, and shit. No offense.”

“Nah, I may be a silly high schooler, but I’d rather be dead than go to any prom. Especially with a girl. No offense.”

“Hey, you’re in my bar, and we don’t allow bad talk about women. Unless you ex-girl fucked you over. Then we talk a whole lotta shit.” She refilled Billy’s soda. “But you could always go with a friend.”

“I’ve lived in this town for four days, I don’t have any friends, let alone a beard. Maybe if I did, my dad wouldn’t’ve popped me tonight.”

Susan’s smile faltered a little bit.

“Sweetie, I don’t like to interfere. And I know that most of the time, getting CPS involved makes it worse. But Baby, are you safe? I know he hits you, but do you think he’d-” she trailed off. “I’ve just seen some shit, you know? Boys like you with fathers like yours. Boys that didn’t survive.”

“Everything my dad does, is because he’s scared of how people see him. He’s terrified that people won’t think he’s a great father or a respectable citizen. I don’t think he’d get that low.”

But, in truth, Billy didn’t know.

He’s been getting hits from his dad since he was a kid. And there are times when Billy had thought well, this is it.

But Susan was right. CPS never did anything but piss off his dad.

Susan looked thoughtful.

She grabbed a napkin, and pulled a pen out of her leather jacket.

“I’m giving you the number here. You call if you need anything. We take care of our own, okay?” He nodded in response. “Finish your pop, and get back on home. I’m sure you have a curfew to mind.”

Billy winced, looking up at Susan, feeling like such shit after her kindness.

“I don’t have my wallet.”

“Yeah, you don’t have shoes on either, Dumbass.” She winked at him again. “Holl!” She shouted towards the group of women dancing by the jukebox. “This little birdie needs a ride!”

A short woman came drifting over. Her hair was dark black, and swept clear below her ass. She could’ve sat on it and not noticed.

The scrunchy made sense.

She was short, much shorter than Susan, but she beamed up at her, turning to smile just as warmly at Billy.

“What’s your name, kiddo?”

“Billy.”

It was kind of nice, being called terms of endearment by these two women. He liked that they weren’t trying to pull one over on him. He felt safe.

Susan slid a set of keys to Hollie.

“Take Billy home, please. We don’t need him walking around outside.”

Hollie ushered Billy out of his seat, climbing in the stool herself to lean over the bar. She and Susan kissed over the bar, and that funny hopeful feeling washed over Billy again.

“You’re welcome here whenever you want, Baby. You’re not the first little gay boy we’ve had in here, and you won’t be the last. Don’t be a stranger.”

“Thank you, seriously, I-thank you.”

Susan beamed at him, sliding Hollie’s yellow scrunchy back in her wrist.

[ridiculousn3sswrites]

Eyes on Me

*Loki x Reader

*Summary: Loki and Reader go out to a club, Loki seems to forget just who he belongs to.

*Warnings: Alcohol, swearing, smut (soft dom!Reader, sub!Loki, hair pulling, hickies, oral (female receiving), vaginal fingering, vaginal sex), aftercare, slightest bit of insecurity. Let me know if I missed anything!

*A/N: Sub!Loki brainrot took over again and I’ve been writing this for way too long. THIS IS A SMUT FIC 18+ ONLY

Tip Jar

**********

You were well aware your husband was a very attractive man. He drew the eyes of nearly everyone whenever you went out together, but you didn’t get jealous. After all, you knew he would be coming home with you. He would be tied to your bed, he would be coming apart at your hands, and, at the end of the day, he wore your ring on his finger. So, no, you didn’t get jealous.

But sometimes he really needed reminding of just who he belonged to. Like tonight, where he flitted from person to person, dancing far too close. It would be humorous, if not for the way he had immediately strayed from your side as you went to buy the two of you your first drinks of the night. You watched him closely, sipping at the whiskey cola you had bought for him, your own drink already long gone. Your nights out often ended up like this: Loki claiming the attention of everyone in the room, while you watched him from the sidelines, taking in his every move.

Even as he pressed his body against others, you could see the slight distance he kept. When a woman tried placing his hand a little too far down on her body, he was quick to leave. When a man got uncomfortably close, whispering something in Loki’s ear, he was quick to give a look of disgust and push the man away. That was why you weren’t jealous. Loki liked the attention, but it didn’t mean he would go any further with it.

Though you knew you weren’t jealous, you still wanted to mess with him a little. After all, it was just bad manners to disappear on you before you could buy your first drinks. As Loki finally scanned around the room for you, you knew your time to shine was coming soon. You locked eyes with him, lifting your fingers in a small wave as you sipped at his drink. He brightened up with that boyish smile that you fell in love with, making his way through the dancing people to join you at your side.

Where he belonged, your mind couldn’t help but provide. As soon as he was in earshot, you spoke. “You sure look like you’re having a good time out there.”

“It’s been a while since we’ve been out like this,” he explained, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Did you get me a drink?”

“I did,” you said, downing the last of his drink.

“And was that it?” Loki asked, a knowing smile on his face. “Dance with me, darling.”

“I thought you wanted your drink.”

Loki leaned down, taking your lips with his. It didn’t take long to deepen the kiss, your tongue brushing against his and guiding him through it. You pulled back, smiling to yourself at the way his eyes stayed closed for just a second longer, his lashes impossibly long against his cheekbones.

“Can I get another taste of my drink?” Loki muttered against your skin, just loud enough for you to hear over the thrumming bass of whatever song was playing in the club.

“Earn it.” You freed yourself from his hold, trailing through the crowd, knowing he wouldn’t be too far behind. After all, this was just the start of the game. This little teasing back and forth that defined your relationship. Once you reached a spot that was just secluded enough, you pulled him forward by his belt loop, letting him know how this was going to go.

“Don’t tease me, darling.” His words went ignored as you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck. Your body pressed against him, moving along with the beat of the song. Loki’s hands found their place on your waist, pulling you closer to him. There wasn’t much room for movement, if you were being honest. It was more of a slow grind against each other, you allowing the feeling of being pressed against your husband to overtake your senses. If Loki’s tightening grip on your waist was anything to go by, he finally had his attention where it was meant to be: on you.

Loki slipped a thigh between your legs, encouraging you to grind on him. It was just the type of dirty dancing that was still acceptable in the club, blurring the line between indecency and just another good night. You could feel the desperation in his touch, the way he dipped his head to press open-mouthed kisses along your neck. If you weren’t careful, you knew you’d end up in a dangerous situation, just like the time at Steve’s holiday party. You let yourself enjoy the feeling of his kisses for a second longer, the brush of his tongue against the sensitive skin sending shivers through you, before your laced your fingers in his hair and pulled him back.

You almost cooed at the little whine he let out, just soft enough for you to almost miss it. His pupils were blown wide with lust, the green darkened as he just stared at you with his little pleading look. You gave him a wicked little grin, needing to tease him. “All it’s taken is one little dance and you’re like this?”

“You know the effect you have on me, darling,” he breathed out, voice still airy and dripping with need.

“Do I?” Loki tried to give you a stern look, but you could see the burn of need softening his eyes, giving him away.

“If you don’t by now, I haven’t been worshiping at your altar enough.” And there was the silver tongue you’d fallen for. You could feel the heat starting to gather in your face, but you had a role to fulfill here.

“A god on his knees for me? You’ll give me an ego, love,” you told him with a small smile, guiding him back to a breath away, your lips brushing against his. You continued swaying to the music, more focused on the man in front of you than the actual song playing.

“I’m not on my knees quite yet, that’ll come later.”

**********

You didn’t remain at the club for much longer, just enough for a couple more drinks and enough teasing that had Loki struggling to stay proper in the cab ride back. He had his hand on your thigh, stroking the soft skin with his thumb. His hand would rise further up, sending need through you before you reset the game, placing his hand near your knee just to start again. Even though he was the one touching you, you had full control. Loki knew not to push his luck, following your silent commands without complaint.

When you reached your apartment door, you let Loki rifle through his pockets for his keys, his excitement evident with the way he nearly dropped them. You wrapped your arms around his middle, letting your hands wander over his front. The delicious little hitch of his breath when your fingers barely brushed his arousal almost had you taking the keys from him yourself, but the build up made it that much better. Once the door was unlocked, Loki pulled you in behind him, not wanting to waste a moment more.

You locked the door behind you, wanting to extend the game for just a little bit longer. After all, Loki had been so good for you already, surely he could keep going and show you just how patient he could be.

The moment you turned back to face him, Loki crowded you against the door, still not touching you yet. Even with your heels on, he was still just taller than you. His tongue darted out for a second, wetting his lips before he spoke. “Darling, please.”

You pulled him in by the belt loops, not leaving any room between your bodies. You tilted your head up, closing the gap between your lips. You could feel Loki’s desperation as he poured everything he was into the kiss, letting you guide him. The faint taste of liquor on Loki’s tongue felt like enough to get drunk off of, or maybe that was just the thing about Loki. He didn’t falter as you moved him, switching your positions so he was the one pressed against the door. As you leaned in closer, pressing your weight against him, you swallowed the breathy little moan he let out.

Loki’s hands stayed heavy on your waist, his grasp tightening and pulling you closer, if that were even possible. When you pulled away, Loki’s whine almost made you give in, give him anything he asked for with that pretty little pout on his lips. “What do you want, baby?”

“I just want you,” Loki breathed, resting his forehead on your shoulder. You brushed your fingers through his hair, smiling at the way he softened at your touch.

“Eyes on me, my pretty boy,” you reminded him, keeping your voice soft. Now wasn’t the time to be harsh with him, it wasn’t what he needed from you. He lifted his head, looking directly at you. “Good boy. Now, take me where you want us to go.”

Without hesitation, Loki bent down slightly to grasp your thighs, lifting you. You wrapped your legs around his waist, occupying yourself with pressing kisses along his neck. As he took you from the front door deeper into your apartment, you worked on leaving a dark mark just under his jaw, feeling the race of his heart as you soothed it with brushes of your tongue. After a few moments, you felt the chill of the kitchen island hitting the back of your thighs as he carefully placed you on the edge. You leaned back to admire your work, knowing the red spot would darken to a beautiful purple before the night was over. Loki fumbled with his belt, the need to free himself working against his normally nimble fingers. 

“You didn’t want to go to the room?” you asked, placing your hands over his. He dropped his hands at your touch, letting you unbuckle his belt with ease.

“Didn’t want to wait that long,” he explained as you pulled the belt from the loops of his jeans. Before the clatter of it hitting the floor even happened, he was back on you, kissing you with just as much desperation as earlier. Maybe your teasing at the club had affected him more than you expected, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t inflate your ego some. You undid his jeans, feeling the wet spot growing on the front of his underwear.

“And you shouldn’t have to, you’ve been so good for me tonight.” You broke the kiss, palming him over his underwear. Loki’s breathy moan made you want to give in, slide your underwear to the side and feel him inside you, but you wanted to keep the build up going for just a while longer. “But first, kneel for me baby.”

Loki followed your instruction without a moment of hesitance, his eyes bright as he looked up at you, waiting for your next words. He was eye-level with your lace-covered wetness, but he kept his eyes on your face. He didn’t even bother placing his hands on your thighs, not wanting to risk a punishment when he was so close to getting what he wanted.

“You look gorgeous like this for me, baby,” you praised, seeing the way his back straightened as he soaked in your words. “Is there something you want?”

“Can I please touch you?” You nodded at Loki’s soft request, his hands immediately finding their place on your thighs. He stroked along the soft skin, his touch leaving goosebumps in its wake. His touches felt like he was trying to determine you were actually there, reverent as they slowly grew more present. He dipped his head down, pressing a kiss so close to where you could feel your need for him building, just a whisper away. His movements held too much reverence to be teasing, so you let him continue uninterrupted.

His fingers dipped underneath the edge of your panties, looking up at you for direction. You lifted your hips, giving him the nudge he needed to finally reveal you to him. He pressed kisses along your thighs, slowly working his way to your wetness. The first brush of his tongue against you, the first taste of your arousal, was enough to make him groan into you, his need overcoming him. He ate you out like a man starved, his fingers gripping your thighs like they were keeping him grounded in the world.

Your thighs trembled as Loki brought you closer to your release, easing two fingers into you. He finally pulled back from your dripping cunt, panting heavy against your thigh as he continued to work his fingers inside of you. “Please, love, I want to feel you cum. I want to taste you.”

“Of course, baby. Be a good boy and make me cum, maybe then I’ll let you fuck me.” Your words came out teasing, but you knew there was no maybe there. As much as you loved Loki eating you out, you needed to feel him in you, panting his needy little whines into your neck as he tried to control himself.

Your breathy challenge was enough to send Loki back to work. Loki crooked his fingers inside you, putting pressure on the spot that had you feeling euphoria at his hands while he drew circles on your clit with his tongue. Your husband’s name left your lips as a prayer as you got closer to the edge, your moans echoing through the kitchen. Your fingers tangled in his dark hair, and his groan was enough to give you the final push you needed. Loki eased you through your high, eyes closed as he got lost in your taste.

As the pleasure started getting a little too overwhelming, you pulled him back by his hair. He let out a soft whine, his eyes slowly fluttering open as he seemed to come to. Your slick covered his chin, his eyes hazy as he looked up at you. You released his hair, cupping his cheek in your hand. “Was I good?” Loki asked, his voice dreamy.

“You were so good for me, baby. Do you want to keep going?” You didn’t even get to finish your question before Loki nodded at you. “Okay, my sweet boy, get up here. I want to kiss you properly.”

Loki practically scrambled to follow your order, pressing himself as close as he could to your body as his lips met yours in a desperate kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue, making you moan into the kiss and try to pull him closer. Your legs wrapped around his waist, encouraging him to grind against your wetness as you took control of the kiss. Your head was starting to feel light from arousal, but you needed to keep your wits about you. After all, you were still trying to teach him a lesson for leaving you all alone at the club.

Loki rutted against you, whiny moans muffled by your kiss. When you finally pulled back from the kiss, Loki looked down at you with lust-blown eyes, his lips red and kiss bitten. “Please, my love, can I feel you now?”

“Of course, you’ve been so good for me, you’ve made me feel so good already, it’s your turn now.” You trailed your hands down his body, feeling the slight tremble going through him at your soft touches. When you pulled down at the waistband of his pants and underwear, he was quick to help you free his length with a huff of relief. Loki only had the patience to bring his pants down to his mid-thigh before he was grinding against you again. Your wetness helped him slide through your folds, the feeling of his length sending a pang of need through you. You reached down between you to guide him into you, Loki’s grip on you tightening as he slowly bottomed out. You both let out soft noises as he fully entered you, the teasing from throughout the night having taken its toll on you just as much as it did him.

Loki’s eyes closed, his forehead falling to rest in the crook of his neck as he tried to steady his breathing, the feeling of you wrapped around him just edging on the right side of too much. As he started moving his hips, a slow grind into you, he kept his face in your neck, pressing kisses and softly nipping at the skin there. You knew he was grounding himself, still trying to keep himself from ending the moment so soon when he had been waiting for it all night. You tangled your hand back in his hair, pulling his face from your neck. His eyes were wide, the flush along his cheeks giving away just how fucked out he was already.

“Eyes on me, sweet boy. I want you to give me the attention you didn’t earlier,” you told him, your voice steady despite the moan that was threatening to rip its way out of you.

“Of course, my love. I’m sorry,” he whimpered, his pace faltering just the slightest bit. “I just want to make you feel good, don’t want to finish too early.”

You hooked your ankles around his waist, pulling him in close. “Cum in me, Loki, I wanna feel you. You’re making me feel so good baby, wanna see you let go for me.”

With your reassurance, you could feel the tension of holding back leave Loki’s body. His focus turned to chasing his high, his eyes closing as he lost himself in the feeling. You released him, letting him rest his face in your neck again, his needy pants sending chills through you. It didn’t take much longer for Loki to reach his peak, his teeth sinking into your skin as he muffled his cries of pleasure. After a few more thrusts, his body fully relaxed into your, pressing soft kisses to your now bruised skin.

You brushed your fingers through his hair, letting him take the time to come down from his high.Your thighs were starting to ache from the way they were wrapped around his waist, but you didn’t want to bring him out of the scene too quickly. Once his breathing returned to normal, you spoke softly to him. “Do you want to go clean up, baby?”

Loki shook his head, not having the energy to raise it to look at you. “In a little, just wanna stay here for a minute.”

“Of course, my love. Let me know when you’re ready.” Loki nodded, holding you close to him. You traced random shapes along his arms, wanting to feel his skin but being stopped by the shirt he was still wearing. Loki gently kneaded your thighs, just needing to feel you there.

“Thank you, darling,” Loki said after a few minutes. He straightened up and helped you off the counter, and you could feel his release start to leak out of you. It didn’t matter though, you had other things you needed to tend to.

“C’mon, love, let’s get you something to drink and then we’ll take a shower. Does that sound okay?” Loki nodded, still not quite fully there, even though he was well enough to move with you. You quickly went about getting him a glass of water, setting the kettle and a mug ready for later as he drank the water. Loki held the glass, looking down at it when you turned back to him. “Would you like more water?”

Loki nodded, and you gently took the glass from him. You pressed a kiss to his cheek before going to refill the glass, watching him drink half before putting it in the sink. Taking his hand, you led him from the kitchen and towards your bathroom. While you got the shower ready, Loki went about undressing himself, stopping to look at the hickies that littered his neck. You were worried for a second that you’d gone too far, but then you noticed the soft smile on his face as he brushed the marks with his fingertips. You got rid of your own clothes before pulling Loki into the shower.

Loki’s small hums of contentment as you washed his hair for him were enough to let you know that he was slowly coming back to you. You whispered your praised for him as you worked in the shampoo, letting him know how well he did for you. Once the shampoo was rinsed out, you could focus on yourself. Before you could, though, he took a washcloth from the rack and put some soap on it. “May I?”

“Of course.” As soon as he was given permission, he started washing you. His touches were gentle, once again focused on just being there with you. Sometimes you forgot how important aftercare was for you too, being reassured that you hadn’t gone too far as he took care of you too. It didn’t take long for you to finish up in the shower. 

Loki settled into your hold for the night, the only light from the streetlights outside. You brushed your thumb along his cheekbone, taking in how gorgeous he looked in the dim light. “You did so good for me tonight, my love. I’m so proud of you.”

“Are you?” Loki asked in a small voice, like he was scared of disturbing the peace in the room.

“Of course I am. I’m sorry if I made you feel like I wasn’t, I truly do love you with everything I have.” You pressed a kiss to his forehead, adoring the way he melted further into your hold.

“I’m sorry for leaving you alone earlier. I just got caught up in everything since we haven’t been out in a while,” Loki tried explaining, but you quickly shushed him.

“I wasn’t mad about that, not really. I love watching you enjoy yourself, especially since I know you’re mine at the end of the day.”

“I still should’ve-”

“Hush, we can talk more in the morning if it’s still bothering you. I promise I’m not mad at you, and I love you more than you could ever imagine, okay?”

Loki nodded, looking away for a moment before speaking again. “Okay. Can I have a kiss?”

“You can have anything you want,” you told him, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. That seemed to settle Loki’s nerves as he rested his head on your chest, closing his eyes as he listened to your breathing. You settled in, closing your eyes and enjoying the weight of Loki on you. Just as you were about to drift off, you heard Loki’s mumble.

“Thank you, darling. I truly love you.”

**********

Permanent Tag List: @treatallwithkindness, @delaber, @laic2299

[myemuisemo]

With April showers, Letters from Watson brings us the first installment of The Sign of the Four, a prospect that makes me quake. When I was a tot of eight years, reading the library's copy of The Boy's Sherlock Holmes with a creeping sense of guilt because I was not at that time (and have not been at any time before or since) a boy, I found The Sign of the Four... long. Very long. I was obviously too young for the concepts, even though I could make sense of the words. (That sums up a lot of my reading in that era.)

I'm also reeling from last week's "The Man with the Watches," an utter tragedy of "be gay, do crime."

What's striking me this time -- what with the introduction of Holmes' cocaine use and also the watch deduction that raises a wince and a shudder from anyone who remembers that BBC Sherlock happened -- is how Watson is being positioned (and I don't mean "positioned in the path of which bullet," though apparently he got hit by more than one while in India).

Cocaine

Watson is progressive! His objections to cocaine sound so mild to us in the twenty-first century, but in 1890, scientific opinion was just barely starting to turn away from seeing cocaine as a wonder drug. It was used for local anesthesia as well as for general pep. Queen Victoria drank Vin Mariani, a wine fortified with cocaine, and so did the Pope. Coca Cola contained cocaine until 1906. Sigmund Freud was a vocal proponent of cocaine for improving mood and performance, until he botched an operation in the early 1890s while high.

A couple hair-raising reads on this topic are Cocaine: The Victorian Wonder Drug and A Cure for (Anything) that Ails You: Cocaine in Victorian Medicine.

So Holmes' original audience would have seen him as an up-to-date scientist using a socially approved means of moderating his mood. His shooting up a 7% solution of cocaine is about equivalent to a 21st century person taking nutritional supplements that are meant to boost brain power.

After all the "say no to drugs" education in the American school system, that's so hard for me to get my brain around, but there we are. Holmes is doing something no more troubling than pouring a glass of whiskey and much more scientific.

Watson, therefore, can be read either as being right at the edge of shifting scientific opinion or as being a fussbudget.

Tinge it with romanticism

I'm firmly Team Watson when Holmes starts criticizing A Study in Scarlet:

He shook his head sadly. “I glanced over it,” said he. “Honestly, I cannot congratulate you upon it. Detection is, or ought to be, an exact science, and should be treated in the same cold and unemotional manner. You have attempted to tinge it with romanticism, which produces much the same effect as if you worked a love-story or an elopement into the fifth proposition of Euclid.”

The reader is being positioned here to view with contempt the exact features of the work that we probably enjoyed. Poor Watson!

Is it possible that some reviewers commented on the melodrama of the Lucy portions? Yes, and it'd be a valid point. Nonetheless, having experienced a good many math classes, I think the fifth proposition of Euclid might be improved by a rom--

wait.

Doyle, you magnificent bastard.

Flatland: A Romance in Many Dimensions was published in 1884. It wasn't a huge success, but it seems likely Doyle could have known it, and it did, in fact, mention a love story in a discussion of angles. Back when I read it in college (because if you "liked math," someone would inevitably give you a copy of Flatland), I missed the social satire but appreciated the geometry.

Watson is canonically an effective popular writer, and I refuse to denigrate him for that.

The Watch

First, Holmes substantially invents forensic science with his monographs on tobacco and on callouses.

Then we learn that Watson is a second son, which fits with his his training for a profession and choosing the army to help make his way.

Watson was not on great terms with his brother before his brother's death. Holmes doesn't explicitly deduce this, but it's there to be deduced. Holmes knew Watson's father was long dead, which could have come up in any number of casual ways. Holmes had no idea that Watson had a brother, so Watson:

Didn't mention the brother in any context, ever.

Didn't set up any framed daguerreotypes from his childhood nor any modern photos made with the collodion process. Having a posed family photo would have been so completely normal, as would being sent new photos by family members.

Never interrupted his routine to visit his brother while living with Holmes.

Did not attend his brother's funeral (unless it took place while Holmes was away) and did not wear a black armband for mourning in Holmes' presence. Neglecting mourning for a relative would have been a sign of serious estrangement.

Holmes is possessed of some level of tact in not expanding on this topic.

Watson is also nobody's fool: he knows there are ways to fool a mark with apparently miraculous knowledge.

The question in my mind is this: did Watson deliberately distract Holmes from asking what was the subject of the telegram?

[aquidragon]

blue eyes and jazz and attitude

Rating: PG-13

TW(s): Potential innuendo to nsfw themes

Summary: You had been dependent on Leon for some brightness in the cruel world you both lived in, and he depended on you as well. After years of being close friends, Leon asks you an important question at a DSO-hosted gala. 

Category: Fluff with a sprinkle of angst and spice

Word Count: 1845 Note: I personally pictured re4r Leon from the cutscene of him at the start of the game for his appearance in this fic :)

---

His blue eyes were always his most striking feature. A brilliant cyan, brighter than the sky and deeper than the ocean. Every single emotion he felt was reflected in his eyes, light like the sunlit waves of the Atlantic, or grim like restless waters before a hurricane. You felt yourself being pulled towards his daunting gaze, when it met yours from across the room. He smiled at you, his lips tugged in a half smirk. 

Leon wore a form fitting, dark navy suit that looked black at a distance. His blonde hair was combed nicely around his angular cheekbones. Every single woman he walked past, looked back to stare at him. You were even certain that you caught some men shooting the agent some glances, before anxiously turning their eyes back to their drinks. You almost laughed at the sight, the universal impact of agent Kennedy on people.

It was like he was a god amongst men. Untouchable, powerful, yet so alluring to stare at. You couldn’t blame them, as you were unable to avert your gaze. He stopped at your table, where you were slowly working on your champagne. The bubbly, pale flaxen liquid swished around your glass as he approached. Leon greeted you with a friendly wave, before taking the seat beside you. “You look lovely tonight,” your name always sounded like hot honey on his tongue. 

You looked back at him, mirroring his half-smug grin, resting your chin on your palm. “You  don’t look half bad yourself, Mr. Kennedy.” You purred playfully, teasingly lifting the hem of his trouser sleeve by his ankle with your foot. The blonde lifted his eyebrows, an amused huff escaping his nose. 

“Excuse me, sweetheart, but I think I look great.” Leon lifted a hand, gesturing a nearby waiter over. “Although, I don’t think I could pull off that dress you're wearing nearly as well.” His voice was a seductive, low tenor. His very tone sent delighted shivers down your spine, which tingled down to the ends of your fingertips. 

“I could easily wear the suit you have on, it’s not even a contest.” You teased back, as the waiter set down a glass besides Leon’s hand. It was a mixed drink, a drop of cola amongst a sea of amber whiskey. He quickly took a sip, letting out a delighted groan. 

“We can trade clothes later, if you want, doll.” He lifted his blue gaze over his glass, to look at you. “Although, I’d have to see you put it on, no funny business.” Leon took another drink, while your ears heated.

“Awfully scandalous, don’t you think?” You jested, through your flustered thoughts. “President’s favorite, and random communications agent? Human Resources won’t like that.” You decided to take a sip from your own alcoholic beverage,  the bubbles buzzed over your tongue. “How do you think people will react when they see us sneaking off to another, closed off room, during a company gala?” 

Leon snorted, looking at the nearby party goers, all dressed in their cocktail formal. “Who gives a shit, I outrank everyone in the room; practically.” He looked at you smugly, “including you.” 

Your eyes widened in faux dramatics, crossing one leg over the other. You could feel the fabric over your legs tighten. “Even more scandalous, I can’t be seen sneaking off with my superior. That’s certainly against the rules, Graham would have to fire his favorite agent.” You giggled, invested in your little back and forth. A commonality, in your vague relationship with Leon. 

“I can put in a good word.” Leon mumbled, looking into his glass. “I’d get demoted for you in a heartbeat, anyway, sweetheart.” His eyes lifted back to yours, in a dazzling flash of ice blue. “You know that.” 

You flushed, the flesh beneath your face heating significantly as your heart trembled.  “Maybe I should get promoted for you, instead.” 

This made the agent beside you double over in a brief burst of laughter, in a good nature. “Might have to rescue the President’s daughter from a parasite-infected, cultist village in Spain before you can reach my level.”

“You don’t think I can?” You jeered. 

Leon tapped his fingers on the white tablecloth, inspecting your frame, which made you shiver. You could feel his eyes piercing your skin like ice, making your heart pound against your chest like a deranged animal. “Perhaps with a little bit of training.” He concluded, sarcastically, finishing off his whiskey. 

You threw a crumpled up napkin at his forehead, gasping in mock offense. “Rude!” 

The faint, orchestral music from the quartet began to play. You recognized the ballroom melody, Dvorak’s Serenade for Strings in E Major, Tempo di valse. A waltz, which attracted most of the couples to the dance floor. You finished off your own drink, as the rhythm took an increase of tempo. Leon lifted an eyebrow, tilting his head slightly. 

“Do you want to dance? I’m not much of a dancer, but-” 

You snorted, giving him a small grin through the napkin you had used to dry your lips. “With enough liquor in your system, anyone is a dancer.” You rose to your feet, offering him your hand, “I would be delighted to dance with you, Leon.” 

He grinned at your name, his larger, rougher hands taking yours eagerly. Without a second  thought, he guided you to the dance floor. His spare hand ghosted the small of you back as you reached the ballroom. Leon gave you a nervous smile, which you anxiously returned. Mirroring the actions of the dance partners around you, he pulled your body closer into his own. Your chest lightly pressed against his torso, the warmth of his skin seeped through your clothing. 

Clumsy, at first,  you slowly began to move your bodies together to the melody of the musical piece. Your black heels complemented his glossy, black dress shoes as you attempted to follow the proper steps. However, your heel met his right toe, making him hiss in pain. “Oh shit, I’m so sorry!” You whispered, loudly, eyes wide. 

“Maybe I should use high heels for a weapon instead of a knife.” Leon grumbled, before breaking into a chuckle. You joined his laughter, your voices melding together in a perfect harmony. Briefly, his forehead rested against yours, as his hand that was on your back wrapped around to the curve of your waist. You exhaled shakily, your emotions whirling around your mind and chest violently. 

“Come home with me,” his words were so quiet you almost didn’t hear them, “please.” Your name was so sweet against his lips, you yearned to taste it. 

Your fingers traced the rough, wool texture of his suit jacket. It was thick, yet breathable as well. You looked up at him, his blue eyes dug deeply though your thoughts, as his hold on your hand and waist tightened. “Okay, I will.” 

You had always found some solace in Leon, as he did in you. When you had first met him, you were a bright eyed, fresh out of college graduate. He was older than you, but you instantly connected. During your first mission together, yourself in the communications office, him in an presumed-abandoned lab established by Umbrella. Your playful banter with him allowed you both to find some brightness in the dim situation he was in. 

He had always told you that you provided light in his life. Especially after a hard mission, when he’d return to your apartment, beaten and battered. Once brilliant blues turned dull with exhaustion, and pain. You would sit with him, gently guiding your hand down his back, as he sat quietly beside you. Words didn’t need to be shared, you knew he just needed you to be there. To ground him, to remind him that there was still some good in the world. Even if you weren’t a perfect person, neither you nor Leon were able to escape the flaws that made you both human. 

You rested your head against his muscles felt firm, yet soft against your cheek. The music slowed to a stop, with the next song following quickly behind. This time, it was a slow, sultry jazz beat. The lights dimmed, and shifted colors. Soft yellow transformed into a shade of cool blue with a subtle fade. Leon had stopped trying to dance with you, instead, opting for a gentle sway of your bodies linked together. 

“Y’know, you and I should get together.” He murmured into your ear, slowly, sincerely. “For real, I don’t give a damn about fraternization policies, or any bullshit like it.” Your nerves bristled, his volume no louder than a whisper. 

You looked up at him, your eyes dewy. “Leon,” you bit your lip, apprehensive, “are you sure?” 

He laughed, giving you a gentle, kind smile. “I’ve never been more sure in my life.” 

You glanced at the party goers  around you, too tuned into the music, and murmuring in a low chatter. You really only recognized a few of them, from the hallways of the DSO between offices. The company must’ve been large, judging on the miniscule amount of people you knew. They didn’t know you, but they certainly knew Leon. You had noticed stolen glances from many people, looking over at the prestigious agent, and some unknown agent from home command. 

Something deep inside you burned, you may not be known as your position as a communication agent. You could, however, be known as belonging to agent Kennedy. As well as agent Kennedy being all to yourself, despite all the prying eyes. He could be yours, and you could be his. Your mind twisted delightfully at the thought, as butterflies tickled your stomach and your heart fluttered deep somewhere in your ribcage. 

“Kiss me,” you blurted, quietly. “Kiss me right now, and I’ll be yours.” 

Leon blinked, your boldness had caught him off guard. However, he was always quick to recover. With a mixture of smug delight, he grinned, tracing your cheekbone with his thumb. “I’ve waited for far too long,” he exhaled deeply. Slowly, he leaned to press his lips against your own. In a passionate, yet controlled kiss. 

You couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at the corners of your mouth as you kissed him back. His lips tasted like whiskey, with subtle hints of honey and his favorite mint gum. You briefly ran your hands over his broad shoulders, the textured fabric of his navy suit jacket tickling your palms. After a frantic heartbeat, or two, you separated. You could feel the eyes of party goers on you, but you didn’t care. You couldn’t bring yourself to care, instead, wrapped up in brilliant cobalt looking directly at you.  

“Let’s get out of here, shall we?” You leaned up to whisper into his ear, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. “I’m feeling a bit tired of this party.” 

Leon’s chuckle was breathless, as if he were holding his breath while he kissed you. “I like the sound of that.” He winked at you, “drinks are on me.”

---

Part Two, perhaps? Let me know! Thanks for reading! 

Reblogs greatly appreciated 

[obessedwithfictionalmen]

…. I imagine you have a Billion of these requests and it might not tickle your fancy but I’ve been thinking of a

Post war bucky - meeting navigator reader ( who was transferred to thrope abbots whilst he was in the camps) reader is the warm softness he needs to help rebuild the new him that is worth knowing.. bonus reader being besties with Harry and Rosie

Again no pressure at all! I just don’t own your skill to turn these thoughts into reality! You have such skill miss thang ! I hope you know that 🤍

New Girl

John Egan X Navigator! Reader

Summary: Bucky meets a woman when he comes back from the camps...

Warning: Swearing/ kissing/ mention of death/ use of Y/n/

Word count: 1.3k

The 3 of them were sitting near the fireplace, Rosie just came back, and he survived his plane crashing. She was transferred to Thorpe Abbots a few weeks ago, she was a navigator, that’s how she became friends with Harry Crosby, then, he introduced her to Robert ‘Rosie’ Rosenthal, the 3 of them quickly became friends. Crosby and Rosie kept talking about pilots that got down, especially Major Cleven and Major Egan. Rosie even said that her and Egan would be great together. ‘’You excited to go back home?’’ Rosie asked Crosby as he took a sip of his Coca Cola. ‘’Yeah, I, uh, I’m going to be a father’’ he chuckles, but he doesn’t look happy. ‘’Croz, that’s amazing. It’s good news, right?’’ she asked his friend. ‘’Yeah, but no, I don’t know how to be a father after everything.’’ He signed. Y/n gives him a sympatric smile as she listens the other navigator talk about his feelings.

Chaos was outside, Y/n got outside and saw that Harry and Rosie were running outside, near a plane that just landed. Y/n walked up to her friends and looked at the plane. ‘’What’s going on?’’ she asked, smiling. ‘’Gale Cleven and John Egan are back!’’ Crosby exclaims. ‘’They were the best pilots before me!’’ Rosie said. A brunette men came down a plane, a blonde came to hug him. ‘’Crosby!’’ the brunette exclaimed. The guys hugged as Y/n stand there awkwardly. ‘’ And who’s that beautiful lady?’’ the brunette asked, looking up and down at the woman. ‘’Lieutenant Colonel Y/n Y/l/n, and who are you?’’ she extended her hand for him to shake. ‘’Major John Egan but call me Bucky’’ he shook her hand. He kissed the top of her hand, making her blush.

‘’Y/n/n? Ready to go home?’’ Bucky asked the woman; she was saying goodbye to the children on the base. ‘’Yeah, I’m just saying goodbye.’’ She explains as she hugged Lily, a small girl that Y/n spend a lot of time with. ‘’Here, take my necklace’’ Y/n said as she took her necklace off. Lily took the necklace and put it on. ‘’I have to go now. Bye kids!’’ she waved at them as all the kids hugged her. John Egan looked at the scene, smiling at the woman. He loved the fact that Y/n was good with kids.

She poured herself a glass of water as she staired outside the window. ‘’Whiskey?’’ she heard a voice behind her. She turned to see Bucky, they decided to live together since they grew found of each other. They were friends, but they were in love, they just didn’t know it yet. ‘’Water, I can’t stand the sight of alcohol for a while’’ she chuckled. He laughed and asked for a glass of water too. She sat in front of him, drinking the liquid as they looked at each other. ‘’Buck’s weeding is next week’’ Bucky said as he drank the water. ‘’Yeah, I have to go buy a dress, do you want to come with me?’’ she asked. ‘’Sure, we’ll go tomorrow, I have my suit already.’’ He smiles.

She’d been trying on dresses for an hour, and she didn’t find any that she liked. ‘’I’ll go naked! I swear’’ she breathed out. Bucky chuckled. ‘’I’m able to read map and I helped with D-Day plans, but I can’t find a bloody dress’’ she kept complaining as she put on a dress. When she got out, Bucky’s mouth opened slightly, the dress was light green, long but not too long and had little sleeves. It suited Y/n perfectly. ‘’You look amazing in that one!’’ he compliments her, smiling. ‘’Really?’’ she was skeptical, she never really liked wearing a dress. ‘’Yes, you look wonderful!’’ he says again. Y/n blushes and looks at herself in the mirror, the dress was really beautiful. ‘’Yeah, let’s go with this one’’ she smiles.

The night was still young, Y/n was reading a book when she heard Bucky screaming. She threw her book away and ran to his room. Her night gown flew behind her with how fast she was running. She entered his room to see him seated on his bead, sweaty and breathing really fast. ‘’Bucky, what’s wrong?’’ she asked as she walked closer to his bed. He was in pure state of shock. ‘’Bucky, breath’’ she tried to help but this time, his nightmare was too much for him. She didn’t know what to do, usually her presence worked, and he would calm down. ‘’John’’ she whispered. She took his face between her hands to make him look at her. ‘’Breath, John. I’m right here, everything is going to be fine. Breath’’ she said, maintaining eye contact with him. His eyes were filled with distress, he needed help. ‘’Kiss me, please, Y/n, I need to kiss you.’’ He pleaded, his voice weak. Y/n didn’t even hesitate as she pressed her lips against his.

The kiss was filled with passion and love, it helped Bucky realise that she was there and not dead, like in his nightmare. When they pulled away, he was calmer, and he was smiling. ‘’You’re, okay?’’ Y/n asked, concerned for him. He nodded, smiling even harder. ‘’Who would’ve thought that it would take a nightmare for us to kiss’’ he giggled. She gently smacked his shoulder as she scoffed. ‘’You scared me’’ she breathed out as she smiled too. ‘’I’m sorry, I had a nightmare, you died’’ he explained. She hugged her friend as he smelled her. He was touching her, smelling her and he just kissed her; she was real, and alive. She just realized what happened; she just kissed him. Y/n was in love with him, but she didn’t know if he was feeling the same thing. So, she did what everyone would’ve done; she flew away. As Bucky watched her run away, he giggled, she was a nervous person. But tomorrow was Buck’s wedding, and he was going to dance with her.

She entered the room with Bucky, the reception was over, it was beautiful. Buck’s vows made Y/n cry; it was so beautiful. She was looking for Harry Crosby, she had to talk to him about what happened yesterday. When she spotted him, she practically ran to him. ‘’Croz!’’ she exclaimed as she hugged him. ‘’Y/n how are you?’’ he smiled. ‘’I’m great – ‘’ she noticed a woman holding a baby behind him. ‘’ Y/n, can I introduce you to my wife, Jean and my son Stephen’’ he says proudly. ‘’It’s so nice to finally meet you, I’ve heard a lot of great things’’ Y/n smiles as she hugs Harry’s wife. ‘’Likewise, it’s nice to meet the woman my husband’s been talking about’’ she smiles. Y/n smiles as her and Jean talks. ‘’Can I talk to Harry for a second?’’ she asked. She nods as Y/n and Harry go for a walk.

Harry Crosby was crying for laughing that much. ‘’How could you run away?’’ he laughs. Y/n laughs as she let out a desperate sign. ‘’I panicked, but I really want to kiss him again’’ she breaths out. Rosie, who joined them, was laughing too. ‘’Then kiss him!’’ Rosie exclaims. ‘’Uh, I wish it was that simple’’ she threw her head back. As she did so, she saw Bucky, staring at her with a grin on his face. ‘’It is simple, love’’ he completed her sentence, making Crosby and Rosie laugh as they walk away from the scene, to let them have privacy. Y/n quickly gets up and walk up to him. ‘’I, uh, I’m sorry for running away yesterday. I panicked’’ she blurts out. Bucky smiles as he puts his hand on her lower back. ‘’It’s okay, Y/n, just kiss me again’’ he whispers. She breaths out nervously as she stands on her tippy toes, their face gets closer as their breathing quickens. ‘’I love you’’ she whispers. ‘’I love you too, love’’ he smiles as he leans in closer. Their kiss was passionate, his other hand went on her cheek to keep her closer. ‘’I love you so much’’ she said between kisses. ‘’Fucking finally!’’ they heard Crosby yell. ‘’Well, well, well’’ Buck chuckled. As they pulled away, they saw Buck, Marge, Harry, Rosie and Jean looking at them. Y/n and Bucky looks at each other before laughing. ‘’Are we going to attend another wedding?’’ Marge squeals. ‘’Maybe’’ Bucky smiles.

[k8epot8e]

Train in Vain: Chapter 4

Frilly Drinks

Summary:

You, Kid and Kil, join the party at the Sunny. Will you be able to convince them to give you a lift to the show?

Notes:

Good god, I'm late with this !! Sorry ! Thanks for continuing to read it makes me v happy <3

TWs: Drinking, smoking pot, cursing.

“(Y/N), my name is Nami, nice to meet you. How do you know these two goons?”

The redheaded woman eyed you with a smirk.

You and Kil had just grabbed two dining chairs and scooted them into the circle. Kil handed both you and Kid a glass of whiskey before sitting down to your right. The man with the guitar was on Kil’s right, while Kid and the blonde man completed the ring of chairs to your left. You crossed your ankles to avoid your knees touching the legs man-spreading out on either side of you and rested the glass of whiskey on your lap. You took a sip of your drink and paused to think about your phrasing before you spoke.

“We met tonight actually.” You said.

Eyebrows were raised in your direction. You flushed and looked at the ground, trying to think of how to explain your strange relationship with the two men.

“Kil saved her from some perverts on the train.” Kid exhaled, breaking the silence. He took a long swig of whiskey and looked at the floor.

The blonde man on Kid’s left shot up out of his chair and walked over to you, lingering to your left. He extended his right hand out towards you, gently.

“I’m so sorry, my dear. Are you alright?” The man asked, his blue eyes tenderly piercing your own.

You hesitated before placing your left hand gently in his. His long, calloused fingers cradled your hand like a baby bird.

While maintaining eye contact with you, he bent his head, blond bangs lightly caressing your wrist, and placed a chaste kiss against your skin.

“My name is Sanji. If you ever need anything, I am at your disposal.”

You flushed again, feeling everyone’s eyes on you. You felt some stares sharpen, but you couldn’t tell which ones. Surprisingly, Kid or Kil was not the first to react.

“I wish someone would dispose of you already” The green-haired man snorted, knocking back his glass of sake.

“Fuck off, Zoro” Sanji's face turned beet red as he snapped at the green-haired man.

Laughter erupted from around the room. Sanji released your hand and walked to the bar cart.

You looked up from your hand as it lingered in the air. As you trained your gaze back to the circle of people, you briefly locked eyes with Kid. His jaw was set, a vein protruding from his right temple. He quickly snapped his eyes away from yours, resting his chin in his right hand.

“Well, it seems like you’ve had an eventful night already. Glad you’re okay and we’re happy to have you.” The older, raven-haired woman smiled at you warmly.

“Thank you,” you replied, smiling back at her. “How do you all know each other?”

“All of us live in the building. I’m Robin. My partner Franky and I live in the apartment above this one.” She replied. “He’s not here at the moment, he stepped out to get more beer and soda. He basically runs on Coca-Cola.” She giggled.

“Luffy, Zoro, and I live in this apartment” Nami added. “Zoro is this idiot here” She jabbed her thumb at the green-haired man next to her who offered her a scowl in return.

“You now know Sanji,” the young Black man added, “He and I live in the basement apartment with our other roommate, Tony. He’s out with Franky getting more drinks. I’m Ussop. Sorry about Sanji, he’s just…like that.”

The man with the guitar chimed in, “That leaves Jinbe and I. We live in the apartment down the hall. I’m Brook, little lady,” The older Black man winked at you as he resumed strumming out chords.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance” The older Asian man you assumed was Jinbe nodded at you.

“Wow, that’s really nice. I wish I was friends with my neighbors. I don’t even know who they are!” you laughed.

“It’s definitely not typical,” Robin smiled. “Luffy’s grandpa owns the building and charges fair rent. It’s perfect for Franky and I so we’ve never thought to look elsewhere.”

“Jinbe and I have lived here a long time. It wasn’t always so tight-knit, but we like these kids. They keep us young, right Jinbe? Yo hoh hoh!” Brook laughed.

“They wear me out” Jinbe laughed in response.

“It would be better if Gramps didn’t make me pay rent” Luffy stuck out his tongue before taking a swig of beer.

“Luffy, he lets us get away with so much. You should count yourself lucky” Ussop responded, rolling a joint on the table with precision.

“No, Luffy is right. He’s a cheap old geezer.” Nami huffed.

Sanji returned from the bar cart with three drinks, holding them deftly in his long hands. He placed one in front of you, Robin, and Nami. They appeared to be cosmos, bright pink liquid shining in the slender martini glasses. Each drink was garnished with a lemon twist, delicately cut into the shape of a heart.

You set down your whiskey and traded it for the cosmo Sanji had put in front of you. You took a sip. While you typically preferred whiskey-based cocktails, you had to admit, this was delicious and easily the best cosmo you’d ever had. Maybe the best drink, period.

Looking at the drinks, Kid and Zoro both snorted. The two men locked eyes. After a second of silence, Zoro crossed his beefy arms over his chest.

“So, what do you want, Eustass?” He spat.

“Don’t be rude,” Nami elbowed him in the gut. Zoro grunted.

“Fuck, woman! You know I’m right.” Zoro rubbed his side and glared at her.

The redheaded woman sighed. She gestured for Ussop to pass her the blunt he had just rolled and he obliged. She took a long inhale and let the smoke pass out her nostrils.

“He’s not wrong. I’m assuming you’re not here because you love our company.” Her brown eyes surveyed the three of you curiously.

“As much as we’re enjoying ourselves, you’re right, we are here for a reason,” Kil said, breaking the silence. “You know we’re in a band.”

“Yo hoh, yes, I’ve heard you’re making quite the impression around here,” Brook laughed. You recognized the song he was playing as “Lookin’ Out My Backdoor” by Creedence Clearwater Revival.

“I’ve been a session musician in this town a long time, so I like to stay up on the local scene.” He explained. “You boys seem to be raising some hell with that punk act of yours.” Brook smiled at Kil.

Kil took a deep swig of his whiskey.

“It comes with the territory,” Kil admitted thoughtfully. “The punk scene is rough, so you gotta make a name for yourself.”

At that moment the door was kicked open. You jumped and spilled some of your cosmo on your legs. A tall, broad man walked in the door, carrying what must’ve been at least 10 cardboard boxes of Coca-Cola and assorted brands of beer in his arms.

“We got the GOODS!” He yelled excitedly. “Hey sweetie,” He bent over and kissed the top of Robin’s head as he made his way through the room toward the kitchen.

He sported a mullet that was teased up high on the top. He wore a blue Hawaiian shirt that was unbuttoned halfway down his chest and loose jeans with a wallet chain hanging out of his right pocket. His thick, Jersey accent matching the thick gold chain dangling from his neck.

Following the large man was a small kid with shaggy, mousy-brown hair. He couldn’t have been older than 18, his face still sweetly adorned with baby fat. He wore a striped yellow tank top and brown cargo pants. On his head was a pink baseball cap with a white “X” logo that you didn’t recognize.

“We got the GOODS!” the kid repeated happily, his voice cracking slightly.

The kid looked up and jumped when he saw you, Kid and Kil.

“Who’re you? What are you doing here?” He asked, surprised. The large, men obviously intimidating him.

“They’re okay Tony, don’t worry.” Robin smiled at the kid reassuringly. He stared curiously at you before shuffling off to the kitchen.

Kil turned his head back towards the group.

“Cause of the, uh, incident involving (Y/N) here, we had to bail from the subway on our way to a show,” Kil explained, finishing his glass of whiskey.

“And you’re here 'cause you need a ride,” Nami interjected, looking at Kil flatly.

“I would be happy to pay for gas money,” You added, breaking the locked gaze between the two of them.

“Well, Franky is the one with the car. You’ll have to ask him,” Ussop said as Nami passed the blunt back to him across the coffee table.

“Luffy, why are you smiling like that?” Zoro asked his friend warily.

“Cause a concert sounds fun!” He replied, a mischievous grin painted across his face.

“No. There’s no way I’m going all the way across town to watch these two clowns scream about their feelings.” Zoro huffed, pointing a finger accusatorily at the smiling man next to him.

The room broke into multiple discussions. Kid got up from his chair and went to the bar cart for another drink. Kil followed after him. Franky and Tony had exited the kitchen and were now seated at the dining table, each with a can of coke. After getting another drink, Kid walked into the kitchen while Kil sat down to talk to Franky.

You figured that Kil had the situation under control so after a second to think, you grabbed your cosmo and followed Kid through the doorway into the kitchen.

The apartment’s kitchen was a faded, butter-yellow. The linoleum-tiled floor was patterned with blue and white diamonds that matched the blue countertop. The white fridge was covered in happy selfies of Luffy, Nami, and Zoro in various places being held up by novelty magnets. To the right of the fridge was a large window that led to an old metal fire escape on the other side. Kid had somehow clambered his broad body through the window and was leaning his metal and flesh forearms on the railing, looking out over the city street.

You gingerly crawled through the window and joined him, leaning on the railing to his right. He grunted, acknowledging your presence.

“I think Kil will be able to convince Franky to give us a lift,” you said.

Kid took a big swig from his glass of whiskey, swallowing hard. “I jus wanna get out of here.”

“They don’t seem too bad,” you responded.

He scowled and took another sip.

“You just wanna rut Luffy,”

“I do not. Cut it out.” You laughed and elbowed him.

Surprisingly, he smiled back at you.

“I knew you liked frilly drinks,” he tsked at your cosmo.

“Say what you want, but this is actually really good. You’re just mad you didn’t get one.” You took another drink of the bright pink liquid.

“Pfft. Even if I did, which I don’t, he only makes stuff for women. Nothin’ more pathetic than a man who thinks exclusively with his dick.” Kid sighed.

“Aw come on. He’s over the top, but he was just being nice.” You said, looking down at your glass.

Kid turned to look at you. You felt his gaze burn into the left side of your face.

“You really don’t think he’s just trying to get in yer pants?” He asked, rough voice emphasizing his disbelief.

“He gave one to Robin!” You retorted.

“(Y/N), a woman’s relationship status has never stopped a man from shooting his shot.” He immediately responded.

“Okay, so you’re saying that you don’t think with your dick?” You asked, finishing your drink.

“I didn’t say that,” he paused. “I just don’ONLY think with my cock.”

“Oh, well, you deserve a medal,” you rolled your eyes. Kid laughed.

“Well I saw you thinking with your cock earlier when Kil touched your arm on the street,” Kid turned his large frame to face you, his bright red lips curled up into an evil grin.

“What are you talking about?” You turned your body to face him.

His shit-eating grin was so wide it took up most of his face.

“I saw the way you were quakin’ in yer boots. I don’t blame you, Kil’s good lookin'.” His eyes bored into your face, relishing every slight change in your expression.

“You’re nuts. I was just surprised is all,” You said, averting your eyes from his.

“So, you gonna jump his bones or what?” He laughed.

“I’m not going to dignify that with a response.” You said, turning your body away from him to face the city street.

Kid laughed haughtily at you, the blood rising to your cheeks again.

There was a moment of silence. You liked the way the wind whipped your hair back from your face, but you were getting cold.

“Aw, come on girlie. It’s no fun when you don’t bite back.” Kid teased.

You couldn’t quite read the look he gave you. His eyes were softer than normal, but he was still smiling darkly at you.

“Okay then. Are you going to jump Nami’s bones?” You smiled at him.

Kid threw his head back in a raucous laugh.

“Yeah, right. I think these idiots would actually kill me. Sanji would need the help since that pansy definitely couldn’t kill me on his own.” Kid said smirking. “But don’ worry baby, you don’ have to be jealous. I know you’re pining after me.”

You rolled your eyes at him. Again.

“Hey, idiots.” You heard someone say from behind you.

You both turned to the window. Kil was, very cutely, bending over and peeking his head out the window.

“Who’re ya calling idiot, dork?” Kid laughed at his friend.

“Franky has, very reluctantly, agreed to give us a ride. We’re going soon so you two should stop pussy-footing around and kiss or just come inside already.” He withdrew his head and walked back through the kitchen.

You and Kid were both silent, blood rising to your cheeks. A moment passed before Kid angrily yelled after Kil, “WHAT’D YA SAY TO ME YA CUNT?"

[panthera-tigris-venenata]

What is their go-to drink order?

First of, let's assume everyone is of legal drinking age, whatever that might be.

It's sixteen. If Ben can be a High King at sixteen, he can bloody well drink. I'm not taking criticism on that one.

Unsurprisingly though, Ben has never had as much as a champagne.

And Jane is stuck drinking kiddie fake-champagnes well into her twenties.

Now Audrey? Oh well. Her favourite is rosè, champagne, Skinny Bitch (vodka & soda) and Pink Gin & Tonic. If you pick an aesthetic, you bloody commit to it.

If she's doing shots with the pirates, she gets vodka, because Audrey post Queen of Mean is that bitch and fears no god. She could also do silver tequila.

Chad can't hold his liquor. He just can't. He has one (1) cider//Frisko and is crying. Audrey is suffering.

Anthony Tremaine gets some fancy brandy or whiskey on rocks. Again, Aesthetic, duh. Once he got this for Ginny Gothel and died a little inside when she declared that it doesn't taste any good and proceeded to pour Cola into it. Guess who learned to never ever do this the hard way.

Harriet Hook. Uuh. She has Problems. We know that, right?

On the Isle, she usually drinks Energy drinks with vodka, because she needs to stay awake, duh. Also rum, 'cos pirates, and red wine, 'cos Aesthetic.

If it's before noon, she gets a Mimosa, so she can feel fancy. Also espresso with vodka. Gin & Tonic.

Basically, you name it, chances are Harriet Hook has drunk it at least once.

She'd just like to forget and not feel, savvy??

Harry prefers rum and dislikes wine. He just has the vibes. Unless it's mulled wine which smells way better.

Uma also orders rum. She, however, really likes Pina Colada, but she won't order it herself, (because tough pirate Captain can't enjoy sugary long drinks, duh).

Don't worry though, Gil gets it for her every time he is getting them drinks.

Uma also doesn't pay for her own drinks, like, ever.

Gil likes ciders the best, even over beer, for which his father and brothers ridicule him. He doesn't care, though. He will also do shots of rum with the rest of the pirates.

CJ doesn't drink.

She has seen her family's hungovers and decided she is not doing thaz, thank you. She also dislikes the idea of losing the already poor control over her mind any more. It might not look like it, but CJ is a bit of a control freak.

Freddie Facilier drinks only when someone buys the drink for her. In which case, she'd choose a Chupito, a sweet shot with rum, lime liquor and cocktail cherry.

Celia Facilier doesn't drink and good for her.

Dizzy Tremaine is not allowed to drink. She doesn't particularly wish to, though.

Ginny Gothel mostly drinks wine, and if there is more fancy option available, she'll get Calvados (fancy apple liquor. It's good.) She is also not opposed to drinking Harriet's Red Bull with vodka though.

Claudine Frollo (once adopted by the Hooks). She also has problems, which, in this case, manifests as getting her drinks as vile as possible.

Campari Orange, as bitter as her soul. She can also pass it for an orange juice if she wanted. She's a hypocrite. (Campari Orange is legit good though). On similar note, Skinny Bitch, without the lime. She will do shots of pure vodka and drink Slammed-Tequila (shot of Tequila & shot of Sprite & ice), which is the most vile substance I have ever tasted. It feels like kerosene.

...Mal can't drink. I'm not taking criticism on that.

Evie and Carlos can do shots of pure vodka. Evie likes champagne more, though. She also has a vendetta against red wine, which was her mother's drink of choice, because it looks like blood, duh. Oh, and Aperol Spritz! (She and Audrey should be allowed to gossip and/or plan murder over a glass of Aperol. Ginny too. They'd vibe.)

Technically, Jay and Jade aren't allowed to drink for their own safety. Not because they'd drink too much, but because they insist on taking their usual Anything-but-the-pavement route no matter what.

One time, after some shots of Tequila, they convinced Audrey to go with them. She almost broke her neck, which might be because she refused to take off her high heels.

[trash-town-champion]

What drinks da2 characters order

In absolute fuck it we ball energy, I am replaying da2 here is a post for any of u who are still here from when I made this blog in high school

Yes this is modern / our world i dont care

Hawke: coronas. No, coors lite. Idk the beeriest college beer there is. Hawke is a ferelden farm boy this dude doesn’t even do mixed drinks he buys 6 packs only. Catch hawke in the club with one of those pitchers of beer thats like 64oz. If he must, whiskey soda(cola), and his go to shots are jameson

Varric: old fashioned is his go to, gin and tonic if he’s slowing down, and guinness if he’s really taking it easy, he doesnt really do shots

Fenris: he’s from tropical tevinter so must be tequila and mezcal, he usually does traditional tequila shots with salt and lime, but he’ll take a traditional margarita, salt rims on everything, he also likes tajin and will do mango if it’s spicy. Wine is a whole other ball of wax but he doesn’t really fuck with anything white or rosè he’d drinks cabs

Isabela: she’s a pirate so she likes rum, rum&coke is her go to, but she’ll do piña coladas, daiquiris, mai tais, and corny stuff like jello shots, blowjob shots, isabela only really likes shots if they’re this big communal event you make everyone do, she doesn’t do shots on her own, she’s the queen of mixed drinks and is low maintenance, if no rum she goes to vodka cran

Anders: white claw queen, trulys, high noons, go to mixed drink is long island iced tea, maybe screwdriver, but he will send things back if they’re not sweet enough and makes a terrible sour face every time he does a shot. This does NOT mean he does not do shots. He just has no preference bc he has no taste for liquor. He will order those ice blended drinks that are gross fake sugary, he drinks artificial shit like green apple flavored vodka, he brings malibu to every house party

Carver: he’s cut from the same cloth as hawke so he also drinks 6 packs. they order gallons of beer at a time and split them often, he’s always sipping mini fireballs out of his pocket as if he’s not surrounded by alcoholics, and he orders hennesy shots flat with no special flair

Bethany: cosmo, lemon drop, sex on the beach, sangria, she rejects beer because of her brothers, but she’ll do whiskey shots with them. she also likes ceremonious shot rounds like isabela

Aveline: ok so she’s obviously not down at the bar getting fucked up with everyone else, she mostly drinks beer and wine, she likes ipa’s and can get surprisingly sophisticated about beer, she doesn’t feel she has the refined palette of good wine choice (but she’d probably pass up many others) if she must order a mixed drink she’ll have whatever her friend is having, and if they’re doing shots she takes them like a pro

Merrill: oh boy this one’s hard. I think they just feed her drinks until she likes one and the ones she picks are so random to them they can’t follow the pattern. In reality, she has a preference for an herbal taste where she’ll like anything that tastes like she’s eating the forest or a garden, gin because it’s piney, garnishes with sage or basil or rosemary but she always eats the garnishes out of her drink whole, and she also likes to chew on the ice afterward. She’s a huge lightweight and gets drunk after two drinks but she really doesn’t mind the taste of them bc she would eat grass so she slurps down many a hard drink and then shes wasted

[10bugs-in-a-trenchcoat]

Fallout 4 Companions and what I think their fave hangover foods are

Ada and Codsworth: Oil.

Nick: Cigarette

Curie: Buttered Crossiants. How does she have any? Well, she's got plenty of pre-war knowledge, surely SOMEONE in Sanctuary can bake?

Preston: Is that someone. He tries to get away with just coffee on the morning of his hangover, but Sole will insist he eat something, then promptly regrets that when Preston goes through half the bread in Sanctuary having toast.

Cait: She's reaching for that Sailsbury Steak and Potato Crisps. As much as she's a 'tough Irish gal', she knows how bad it is to do NOTHING about a hangover, so she'll munch on that over the morning.

Danse: BOS rations 😭 try as you may post blind Betrayal, he'll just insist "I'm a synth, I don't need food. This is all artifical". You might succeed at making him eat some crackers though. Maybe even a stew if you promise that "Oh I accidentally made too much and it was gonna go to waste anyway so actually you're helping"

Deacon: I'm a firm believer of synth Deacon despite him not dropping a component upon death. And apparently its a lore fact that synths enjoy Fancy Lad Snack Cakes??? So he'd for sure have some of those and a Nuka Cherry.

Hancock: Jet. Ok but seriously, I feel like he'd get Whitechaple Charlie to make him a full English breakfast. Might also have some whiskey because you can't can't hungover if you're always a little drunk :)

Maccready: Probably having the full breakfast as well, courtesy of Hancock. If not for that then he'd probably just have some Yum Yum Devilled Eggs, he seems like that kinda guy to me.

Piper: A bowl of Sugar Bombs and a Nuka Cola. You cannot persuade her into having anything healthy, she just won't. Unless Nat is there, bc she's gotta be a good role model. Then she'll have some soup with tatoes, razorgrain and some mongrel meat.

Strong: The raw meat from the last raider he killed.

Old Longfellow: Fog Crawler meat with Potato Crisps that have been mashed with Brahmin Milk, along with a side of Whiskey. How do you think he lived this long in the wasteland? He's eating good!!

Gage: Nuka Cola. Okay yeah he's having some Nuka but he's also gonna have some grilled Rad-Rat kebabs, maybe even with a dip now that Sole has taught him to eat anything BUT pre-war food straight from the packaging.