#there be lime and lemon later on as well

[satorusugurugurl]

Buzzed

Summary: Your boyfriend doesn’t drink. He’s a lightweight, never saw the appeal, and, well, it makes him horny.

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x FAB!Reader

Warnings: Whiny super whiny Gojo, handjob, public play, Gojo is just buzzed, not drunk consent is key, there are several reasons he doesn't like alcohol

Word Count: 2,307

A/N: this popped into my head at work. The need for Gojo to whimper and whine is intense.

Gojo didn't drink. He had nothing against people who liked to drink; by all means, to each their own. He never liked the taste; he was a lightweight, and he'd rather spend his money on sweets. There, however, was another reason he didn't drink. One that was far too embarrassing to mention.

Whenever Satoru would drink, he'd get horny, like super horny.

So, it was safer for him to avoid alcohol altogether, which was pretty easy. That was until you both went to one of your co-workers' birthday party. You casually conversed with some friends while Gojo headed into the kitchen. He was in search of cake, but he found punch instead. He filled his glass, tentatively giving it a sip.

It didn't taste like there was alcohol in it, so he drank a full red solo cup. And he was working on his third in the living room when he felt like his blood was on fire. The room was hot, sweltering, and you, god, you looked even hotter. The tight-fitted shirt you wore emphasized the curves of your perfect body and breasts. Your ass looked amazing in your jeans, and your smile was to die for. God, why did you look like a goddess tonight?

There was a certain glow about you that drew him in like a moth to a light. He hummed, resting his chin on your shoulder, his body pressed firmly against your backside. Not only did you look good, but you smelt fucking delectable.

You turned your head, kissing his cheek before turning back to your friends, joining in with their conversation, leaning back into Satoru when you both felt it. The huge and very hard bulge in his pants had you choking on your words as Satoru straightened, glancing at you in sheer panic.

“Toru?” He grimaced at the tone of your voice. “Please tell me that's your phone.”

“It’s not,” he confirmed your fear.

“Can you get outside to the balcony?” A glance over his shoulder confirmed no one was remotely close to his sanctuary.

“Yeah.” His voice was so gravely as his cock twitched in his pants.

“Good, go on. I'll be out in a sec.”

The second Gojo stepped into the cool night air, he groaned, looking down at his pants. What the fuck? Why was he sporting the world's biggest boner of all time? Fuck, he was so hard it hurt. He slowly sank into the dark corner, resting his back against the window where the curtain was still drawn, waiting for you to join him.

A second later, the sliding glass door opened and shut. Gojo’s hands flew towards his crotch, shielding his erection from any prying eyes. When he saw you turn the corner, he released the breath he'd been holding, dropping his hands to his sides. Satoru shut his eyes tight, biting back a pained whine. All you could do was knit your eyebrows together as you watched.

“Satoru? Are you okay? What’s going on?”

“Nngh, fuck, I don't know.” His cock throbbed hard at the sound of your voice. “I'm so goddamn hard.”

“Aren't you always hard?” The teasing tone in your voice attempted to lighten the mood.

“Yes, but your point is irrelevant. Fuck, I don’t know what happened. I only get surprise boners like this when I drink!”

Satoru was panting as you tilted your head slightly to the side. “But you did. Mina’s punch has a fuck-ton of alcohol in it.” Your boyfriend's face was contorted in pained pleasure and confusion. “People can’t taste the alcohol because of the liter of Lemon-Lime soda and the whole ass pint of sherbet.”

“Fucking fantastic,” Glancing back down at his erection, he sighed in frustration. “I-It’s going to be awhile for this bitch to go down. I’ll stay out here; you go inside and enjoy the party.”

Right now, in this embarrassing moment, Satoru could barely look at you. During the entirety of your relations, Gojo never drank, leaving that up to you if you were in the mood. You understood he particularly wasn’t too keen on drinking; it was his personal preference. Seeing him now, sulking in a corner, chest heaving, cheeks flushed, cock throbbing. It made a little more sense.

Laughter and loud music blared inside the apartment, drawing your attention to the door. Mina’s special punch was getting to everyone, it seemed like. They were so immersed in their current conversations and food would they even notice your absence?

Satoru was in physical pain. His teeth were clenched as he hissed out in frustration. You took notice of his hands, how they twitched, drawing closer to his crotch before pulling away. The man was fighting against every instinct in his buzzed horny brain. You could tell by his expression that he wanted to do nothing more than stroke his fat cock until he came all over his fist. Satoru, however, was also one not to let his lust overtake him.

He wasn’t some horny freak that would pull his dick out and stroke it until he jizzed all over your friend's balcony railing. You, however, weren’t as collected as he was. Seeing your boyfriend's cock twitching in his pants, the tiny wet spot forming over his leaking tip, made you fucking feral.

“I don’t want to go back.” Closing the distance between you, Gojo watched with bated breath as your pretty hands unbuttoned his pants.

“Tsk!” Your boyfriend hissed, crystal blue eyes darting towards the door. “Y-Y/N, what if someone comes out?!”

“I guess you’ll need to stay quiet. That way, if someone does come.” You whispered, your fingers slowly tugging his zipped down. “Can you do that for me?”

Satoru didn’t have time to think of a response because his dick did all the talking for him. It throbbed hard in the confines of his boxers. He whined and watched more pre-cum seep through the fabric of his boxers.

You cooed, running the bed of your thumb over the growing wet spot. “I’ll take that as a yes?” A nod and a tiny whimper was all you needed.

Slowly, you slid your hand down the band of his boxers, immediately coming into contact with his hot cock. His velvety shaft twitched as you tugged his boxers down just enough to free his erection. The tip was a furiously red shade; his slit dribbled pre-cum. Seeing his fat cock this hard has your cunt clenching around nothing.

“Ahh, fuck, fuuuck,” Satoru whispered through a hiss as you wrapped your fingers around his shaft. You slowly stroked your hands up and down. Squeezing it, trying to mimic how your pussy would pulsate around him when he would fuck you. “Y-Y/N~”

Using his pre-cum as lube, you smeared it up and down his length. Watching the pretty tip twitch madly each time you collected your makeshift lubricant. Satoru groaned, eyes half-lidded, watching you, the way you shifted, pressing your thighs together, how you took your bottom lip between your teeth, biting down on it, as you jerked him off.

“I-I’m, haaa, I’m the one g-getting jerked off here. B-But you, holy fuck!” He clamped his hand over his mouth, stifling a moan. Your teasing jerks, changed, your wrist twisting with every move. “Nnngh, f-fuck but y-yo—ooooh shit, you're the one e-enjoying yourself.”

“Of course, I’m enjoying myself. Satoru, I love feeling your dick get hard in my hand. It's so fat, hot, god, it makes me wet.”

Satoru flushed, head tilting back, the veins in his neck straining as he clenched his jaw. He was the one that would normally talk to you like this. Having it turned the other way around, he had his head spinning. The dizziness was so intense your boyfriend tilted his head back before he began thrusting into your tight-fitted fist.

“Fuuck, Haa, ooh fuck sweetheart, feels so good.” you bit back a moan of your own, watching as he ducked your hands, stinks of pre-cum running over your fingers, as he slammed the palm of his Hans against the railing. “D-Dont stop baby~ fuck Y-Y/N don't fuckin’ stop.”

Watching him desperately fuck your hand was so fucking pretty. From the thin sheen of sweat on his beautiful face to the throbbing shaft in your hand, everything about Gojo had panties soaked. Right now, you wanted to drag him out of the cramped apartment and back to your place where you would fuck his brains out.

But getting him through the apartment right now was out of the question.to get what you wanted, you had to get him off first! The faster he came, the faster you'd get to have him inside of you.

“You're doing such a good job, Toru~” Your hand moved faster. “I love feeling your cock sliding into my hand. But I love it so much more when you’re sliding into me, stretching me with your cock.”

Satoru was a hundred present, certain you were responsible for his hot blood and the hazy gaze that lingered over his eyes. You were the source of his buzz, and it had him jerking like a virgin into your first. You tried matching his thrusts with your hand. The whines that left his mouth were all the confirmation you needed to know that it felt good.

“F-Feels so good.” Satoru cried out, head dipping down to watch you jerk him off. “Holy fuck, your hand feels so good.”

“Mmhm~ just think about how good my pussy will feel when I get you home.” A grunt sounded from him. “Yeah~ you like knowing that you’re going to fuck me when we get home~? You going to reward me for helping you~?”

“Y-Yes, p-please don’t stop Y/N, I can feel it coming. God, I’m going to cum so hard.”

Hearing the pleasure that paved his voice had you pressing your thighs together. “Yeah~ are you going to cum~? Do it; I want you to cum, baby~ I want you to feel so good~ Like the good you are.”

“Y/N?” Gojo jerked, his head searching for the source of your voice. “Hey, is Gojo okay?”

Without missing a beat, you pulled Satoru down with your free hand. Your hand pushed the back of his head into the crook of your neck. Gojo didn’t know what you were doing at first, but as your hand left to join the other stroking his throbbing cock, he picked up on what to do. He whimpered and moaned softly into the crook of your neck.

“Oh yeah, he’s just a bit buzzed right now.” You stroked him harder, squeezing his shaft. “He doesn’t like drinking and thought the punch was safe.”

Satoru’s arms wrapped around you, fingers digging into the fabric of your shirt. His breathing whines were hot against your skin as his balls started to clench. He was so close to cumming, his eyes shutting tight, losing himself in the cooling sensation in his abdomen. So close, he was so close.

“Aww, poor guy, did you need anything?”

Gojo needed whoever the fuck this was to get out of here. He whined out your name into your neck. Hot breath having you shifting.”Y//N c-close.” He whispered as softly as he could as you jerked him faster, both hands working in tandem.

“Nope! We’ll be back inside in a second; I gotta get him home.”

“Okay!”

You waited until the door shut when you moaned with him. “Good boy, good boy~” his fingers dug into your back. “Go on, Toru~ cum for me~ give me it all.”

Satoru cried out into your neck in a nearly silent cry. “Y-/N oooh~ god fuck~ holy fuckin’ shit! C-Cummin’ I-I’m cumming.” You suddenly understood why he loved you, scratching up his back when you came around his cock. It felt good, so good, as he spurted thick ropes of cum all over your hand. “Nnngh oh fuck~! Fuck! Fuck!” His whines were shaky and nearly breathless as his cock weakly twitched in your hand. “Y-Y/NN~”

Gently you let go of his softening cock, bring your cum coated hand to your mouth. Satoru watched you closely, his chest heaving as he slowly came down from his high. He had half expectantly thought you were going to wipe his cup off on the inside of his jacket. What he hadn’t been anticipating was for you to flatten your tongue and lick it off. His sensitive cock twitched back to life at the lewd sight.

“Mmm~” You hummed in delight as if you just finished a meal. “So sweet and salty, Satoru~ I wanna taste it first hand when we get home.”

A switch flipped in Satoru’s head, be it post-nut clarity. He grabbed you by the face, turning you so you were pressed against the sliding glass door. The sudden flip had your breath catching in your throat as your boyfriend bent down, pressing his forehead against yours.

“The only one who is doing any sort of tasting when we get home will be me. If you don’t get us out of here fast, I’ll be sampling that soaking cunt right here.”

You didn’t need to be told twice; you dragged Satoru out of the party, shouting out brash goodbyes. Satoru might be buzzed from the punch. But you were buzzed off of him, and you needed to turn that buzz into a love-drunken affair.

[icarusredwings]

What things smell like according to Logan Howlett/ The Wolverine. A series of smell based headcanons. Do with these whatever you want :)

People:

Ororo: burnt marshmellows, rain, chunky chocolate chip cookies, protien shakes, spansih rice, chillies, and cocoa butter. She always smells great.

Scott: cucumber shampoo, the remaints of a bonfire the next day, fresh dry cleaning, axe shower gel, lavender sheets

Jean: caramel latte, lavender sheets, vanilla spiced chai, books, mint ice cream, fruit smoothies, stinky hair product, lemon poppy seed muffins, sassafras

Hank: Books, sanatizer, various chemicals, a very specifc fur dander, kinda musky but in a 'im covered in fur and sweaty' kind of way.

Rouge: "Dolly Parton", brick and concrete dust, cherry blossoms body spray, freshly engraved wood, strawberries and milk conditioner, spicy gaucamole and freshly sizzled sausages.

Gambit: tv static, a fresh deck of cards at the casino, spicy jumbo, gin, lime jello, hair gel, "suprisingly good actually"

Kurt: brimstone, smoke from franckinsense, myrrh, a less smelling dander then hank, Holy chrism oil (olive oil and Balsam made by catholic priests), metal, and blue raspberry. Fur/ beard pomade sometimes for special ocassions.

Morph: even when changed he can smell is sandlewood shampoo, he smells like how "Jack Outta smell", latex, pine and cedar, clear nail polish, "that ugly quilt that your grandma kept on the back of her couch that was the warmest, softest thing you've ever slept with."

Charles: Old man fart, metal, chalk, shoe polish, nutmeg, wool, "a trusting hug", books, mahogany, expensive champagne.

Laura: "teen spirit", a shitty cheap "girl power" deodorant that doesn't do well hiding the sweat, apples and peaches, kinda woodsy.

Wade: Cancer, gun smoke, citrus dish soap, blood, oranges, taco sauce, infected skin once in awhile, red dye 40, slight over cooked and crispy apple pie, sugary cereal

Puppins: wet dog, dog dander, oatmeal senstive skin puppy shampoo, chicken, "the dirtest trash she can find to roll in on her walk"

Althea: Old lady, way too strong perfumes, butter biscuits, tea, peppermint candies, more cocaine, "baby powder", lanvender linens, cotton and daisy's Landry detergent.

Feelings/emotions:

Big/serious lies: smell like Gasoline and salty sand near the sea.

Small fibs/playful/ teasing lies: smell like Anise

Lies with decent intentions/are bent truths: smell like honey

Those two are easily mixed up.

Innocent (the person truly believes it. Ex. A child saying dinos are real) truth: smells like thick vanilla creamer.

Filling, whole truths (the person knows for a fact its a truth) smells: like fresh baked rolls/buns

Cancer smells vary like: urine, nail polish remover, some people have a pungent semi sweet smell like rotting fruit, and tar is another smell, depending on which part of the body. If already in late stages, one can smell like cadavers. Even spicy almost.

Pregnant people vary in scent but he can smell the rise of different hormones: Some hormones sweeter then other. If you asked him he would say cinnamon or dying roses. If you're later in your term the scents are more soft like lotion or custard. Lemon ussually.

Serotonin; cheese, lemon cakes, fruity, a bit light, and flakey like a pastry. Marshmellow fluff.

Dopamine; sweet fresh coffee, doritos(?), cocaine. Don't ask why he knows what cocaine smells like. He was alive during coke cocaine.

Endorphins; Sweaty Sex, mint, dark chocolate, violets, chemicals, varies by persons pheromones

Oxytocin; "playful cherries", freshly washed cotton pillows, the warmth of a bath, skin on skin hugs, strawberries

Joy/relaxation/relief: Jasmine, vanilla sugar cookies, fresh soup.

Anger/disapproval/hurt: smoke, the back end of a cigarette, spicy curry, iron, blood, "spoiled raw chicken left out too long"

Fear/excitment/anxiousness: Adrenaline smells like oil, paint, salty pretzels almost.

Tears: Oceans, lillies, fresh water lakes

[bump1nthen1ght]

A Very Monstrous Kinktober: Day 4 (Prostitution)

Kink: Prostitution

Pairing: Male!Android x GN!Reader

Other Kinks: Deepthroating, Cum Swallowing

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 1047 words

Kinktober Masterlist

"Wow, it's so soft." Axel half-whispers, warm digits massaging your ass cheeks. His modulated voice is full of awe, so enraptured by the feel of flesh and muscle. Since coming to this planet where 90% of the populace are androids, cybers or other kinds of techno-life, this was a reaction you were getting used to.

Especially when it comes to your clients.

"You like?" You purr, wiggling your hops in his face. The audible whirr of his cooling fans kicking on makes you giggle.

"Y-yeah, I do." Axel mumbles, still in awe of the jiggling flesh. He gives your ass a timid slap, cooing at the recoil.

Axel was shaping up to be one of your favorite clients. He'd walked into his appointment, face flushed blue with coolant and stuttering out an introduction. He had muttered out that it was his first time with an organic, which you had already assumed but pretended to be shocked anyway. Most of your customers requested you because of the novelty of your fleshy body; you'd grown used to several minutes of petting and observation before they eventually asked you to spread open.

But Axel had been different. He had asked your name, asked if the way he touched you was okay. Even the way he fondled you felt different. It wasn't detached fascination, it was a desperate awe. He'd whispered sweet things about your body, admired your specific stretch marks, your dimples, and your skin's imperfections.

You think you'll give him your card after this session. It’s reserved for your most well-behaved, respectful clients.

But for now you have a job to do, and you want to show Axel all the things your fleshy body can do.

You flip around, pulling Axel into a hug. He squeaks, not unlike an old computer mouse, but quickly sinks into your embrace. He rubs his face into your warm skin, moaning at the sensation. Just a kiss to the cheek has him shuddering with a moan.

"Let me make you feel good, baby." You whisper in his audial port, Axel responding with an eager nod. His body readily complies as you push him back on the bed, slotting in between his legs. The sleek wiring pulses green and blue in between his segmented joins, flaring as you trace your fingers down them. It's adorable.

His modesty player is buzzing, whirring machinery underneath betraying how eager he is, if you couldn't already tell from his shaky whines and stuttered words.

"W-what are you-" Axel whispers, caught in a moan when you press another kiss to the plate, his hips jerking upwards. "Ooh, do that again, please."

"I can do you one better, handsome." Your hand caresses the seam of his plate and Axel is quick to let it pop open, sliding to reveal a pulsing phallus. It drips with a neon green lubricant, more like a vibrator in shape than a human penis. It also has several bumpy nodes, which only excites you for later.

Wasting no time, you lick up his shaft, paying special attention to those nodes, wondering how sensitive they are. Axel throws his head back with a breathless whine.

"O-oh, stars. That feels good." His voice catches with another moan as your hand wraps around the base of his shaft and squeezes. More neon lubricant gushes out of the slit at the top, which you lap up eagerly.

Yum, lemon-lime flavored.

You suck at the eager slit some more, Axels flailing hands grasping at your shoulder and neck, gently pulling your mouth closer, chasing tbe high.

"Your mouth...it's incredible!" Axel yelps. His whimpering voice sends a shiver down your spine.

You're definitely giving him your card after this.

"Your tongue, your lips, I've never felt anything like it. It's amazing."

"Hmm, and how about this?"

Before Axel can even mutter a "Huh?" you have him half-down your throat, cheeks sucked in. His voice processor glitches as he groans, those eager digits digging into your skin. "Oh stars!" He shouts as your tongue lathers around the shaft, slowly moving your head up and down.

He's a little too thick at the base for you to properly deep throat him, but you don't need to. You can see his wires pulsing in your peripheral, hear his pants and moans, and can taste the excess lubricant bubbling to the top. Axel grows bold enough to hold onto your cheek and fuck into your louth, although quite gently.

"I think-" Axel stutters, hips still humping into your throat, "I think I'm close."

You humm, the buzz around his shaft making his thrusts falter. Your lips pop off the top of his member for a second, quickly replaced by your hand. Licking excess fluid off your lips, you look Axel right in the eye.

"Oh yeah? Where do you want to come? Down my throat?" Axel nods, voice chip struggling to form words amidst his groans. It makes you smirk, giving one long lick up his phallus before deep throating him again. You set a more moderate pace, urging him to climax.

"Oh stars, ohh-" Axel's voice, even glitchy, is melodic. He sound so sweet, coming undone below you. "S-shit!" His chip distorts the audio, wires pulsing a bright flash as hot streams of lubricant shoot down your throat. It's a little sour, but also quite sweet.

You slowly let Axel out of your mouth, savoring the flavor of his phallus as you do. The running of his cooling fans reminds you of a kitchen vent, his phallus slowly sinking back into his modesty place for a quick recharge.

You climb up Axel's body, giving him gentle kisses as you do. He readily nuzzles into your skin, despite his systems already warning that he might overheat.

"That was....fantastic" Axel whispers.

The sheer reverence in his voice makes you giggle, pecking again at his jaw.

"Well, I'm not sure how long it will take to recharge but..." You run a finger up his wiring, batting your eyelashes. "We still have another hour left in our session. If you'd like to see some of the other things I can do."

Despite the warnings in his processor, despite the way his modesty plate slowly beeps as he lets it open again, Axel is eager.

"Yes please."

[icallhimjoey]

FINISH PART 5 NOWWWWWW ‼️‼️‼️

ALL RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT ‼️‼️‼️ Wordcount: 3.9K

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Mistaken, Not Stirred

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

What the fuck were you doing?

You’d asked yourself this question about 43 times already, and each time, the answer changed.

He’d asked. And you had nothing better to do. He said he’d help. Would be rude to say no. Any excuse to hang out with him for a little bit, really. Especially now that you wouldn’t be able to see him at work anymore.

And you know what? Maybe there really was some magical way of getting your job back. Joe’d said he was going to talk to Martin and he had and then he’d sent an address. Told you to come over the next night.

So, you did.

You texted a picture of Joe’s flat and added, “this one?” and literal seconds later got a reply, telling you which doorbell to ring. Like a simple scroll up wouldn’t give you the same information.

As Joe buzzed you in and you stepped into the lift, you asked yourself again: what the fuck were you even doing?

You couldn’t have predicted what you walked in on. Not in a million years.

“Joe, what the... oh, my God...”

First of all, it was a little weird seeing Joe in a different place that wasn’t the bar. You had seen him in other places. Your own bed, for one. But still. It took a little getting used to.

Second of all, Joe lived in a fucking nice place. The type of place you would never be able to afford. Especially not now, with the loss of the job and all that.

And then thirdly, and what had you most shocked, his kitchen island looked like... it looked nothing short of an actual cocktail bar.

Bottles of liquor, all sorts, short fat ones and big tall ones, dark and clear, liquor bottles like the ones you used in the bar every day and then lots of others that you never touched. All of them full. Still sealed.

Amongst all of the bottles there were different types of glasses, a net of lemons, a net of limes, some large oranges, an actual blow torch, and not to forget, a full cocktail shaker set. All the equipment you needed to... well, to make cocktails.

“Welcome, welcome,” Joe said, walking around the island like he was stepping behind a bar and held his arms out wide. “Are you ready to get to work?”

You just stared at him. Stood in the middle of the doorway still, coat halfway down your arms, and you were more than a little confused. In shock too, maybe.

“So,” Joe clapped his hands together and was about to explain what you were looking at.

You had an inkling, though, and interrupted him.

“Shut the fuck up, this must’ve cost a fortune?” your eyes were about to pop from your skull. “An actual fortune– did you... please tell me you, like, I don’t know, you know someone who’s been able to bring this over and that you get to take it back later?”

He couldn’t have actually gone and bought all of this. Could he?

“Ah,” Joe let his held breath escape him as he bashfully smiled, looked at what was laid out in front of him for a second and their scrunched up his nose and waved it off. “Yea, ‘course I can. The unopened ones, at least.”

So, yea, he bought them.

From a store.

Great.

“Joe...”

“So,” Joe made big eyes at you, raised his eyebrows, and clapped his hands together again, shutting you right up as he went on to explain. “I talked to Martin, like I said I would, and he just... well, he just said that it’s a little difficult to have a slow learner on staff in a busy time of year, you know?”

You scoffed a little, couldn’t help the humourless smirk. Slow learner was... well that was one way of describing you.

“And, so look!” he gestured an arm across the island. Across all the bottles and the bar equipment.

“I... I’m looking,”

It was silly.

Joe was being silly.

Like this was going to work.

Like practicing making drinks would convince Martin enough to rehire you.

It wouldn’t. You knew it wouldn’t.

But, you took off your coat fully anyway, draped it across one of the stools on the opposite end of the island and walked around to join Joe where he was stood.

“Here’s the menu,” Joe said, picking up an actual menu from Hush-Hush.

“Did– did you steal this?”

“And here’s the Christmas menu,” Joe ignored you and just placed the stolen Christmas menu over the stolen regular menu in your hands.

You looked at it a second, thoughts going. You flicked your eyes up to scan across the bottles, then back down at the menu. Did he really... did he get every single thing you needed to be able to make every single drink from both these menus?

“Let’s start with the regular menu though,” Joe removed the Christmas menu from your still frozen hands and then moved an arm across to grab a martini glass. “And why don’t we begin with a dirty martini?”

Oh, this motherfucker.

“Hey– I know how to make one of those,” you took the bait immediately and turned your head to frown at him. He was stood... close. Gave you a mischievous little smirk that got you into all this trouble in the first place.

“I know you do,” Joe said, voice a low baritone that made you remember that you liked Joe a lot, and that you were in his flat and he was all close, and being sweet, and nice, and if you just leant a little closer you could kiss him.

It made you remember that last night when you’d gotten home you thought you’d never get to pretend to go and clean the surface of the bar again just to be closer to him, and now here you were, in his flat, and he was so close, and then he softly said, “I just really fancy one.”

Fuck off.

That made your breath go all wobbly.

Shake it off. Come on. You weren't this easy, were you?

“Well,” you started and had to clear your throat before continuing and placed fingers on the base of the cocktail glass Joe’d placed in front of you. You slid it over to him and finished, “You can make it yourself.”

It broke the tension and made Joe laugh as you started rolling up your sleeves.

Time to get to business, then.

Joe found his way around his island and sat down on one of his breakfast bar stools with his laptop opened in front of him.

And so it began.

Joe googled recipes. Googled how to step by step instructions, found video tutorials, and verbally coached you through making each drink, one step at a time.

Joe taste tested, just little sips, because he couldn’t let his mind get cloudy he said. But his mind got cloudy anyway. And fast too.

You were in his flat.

Mixing drinks. Mixing mai tais, cosmopolitans, old fashioneds, white russians, margaritas, mojitos and manhattans. Right there, in his kitchen.

When was he going to tell you that before you started working there, Joe didn’t go to Hush-Hush that often?

When was he going to tell you that sometimes he walked in and saw you weren’t on shift, he’d leave again?

When was he going to tell you that he doubled his tip on nights when you made mistakes that visibly annoyed Martin?

Would he ever tell you that he liked leaving rings on the bar just so you’d stop by him extra often to wipe it clean?

Probably never.

But maybe he would. Maybe he could get you your job back, and then later he could tell you.

Not now. He didn’t want to ruin what he was looking at.

You were in his kitchen, getting progressively dirtier as you spilled drinks and wiped sticky hands into your hair.

He loved it.

And Joe just got to look.

Pretended he was looking because he had to see what you were doing.

Had to check if you were making mistakes or not. So he could instruct.

It was just that... your face wasn’t what needed checking, was it?

Remember how he said you were lucky you were cute? Well... Joe was sort of lucky you were cute, he thought.

Joe watched you mix drink after drink, watched you turn his kitchen into a whole mess, watched as you tried to clean as you went, but instead clumsily knocked things onto the floor, only creating more mess as you went along.

After a while, after taste testing over half the regular menu, Joe grinned to himself and said, “It’s like I’m actually at The Hush.”

Because this was exactly what Martin would always do.

You grinned to yourself as you finished a vanilla chai tea white russian, one that Joe was already reaching out for, but, that looked so fucking good, you decided to go for a sip yourself.

“Oh, maybe not,” Joe huffed. “I usually get given drinks that no one else has taken a sip from already.”

You didn’t even care about Joe’s comment.

That really was fucking good.

“Holy shit,” you went for another sip, and got a loud, “Hey!” from Joe, whose reaching arm turned into two grabby hands. You easily let him take it from you and said, “That’s maybe the best drink I’ve ever mixed.”

Joe raised the glass to his lips and smelled it first. Then he held eye-contact as he took a small sip.

That small sip turned into a big... a bigger sip. A gulp. He was... oh, he was downing it. Drank the full thing in one go. Kept his eyes locked on yours the entire time.

And...

It was a little unfair that Joe looked sexier holding a drink. Like, he physically looked a lot more attractive when he had a glass pressed to his lips. When he made eye-contact with you as he drank. Especially when it was a drink you’d made. You didn’t know how that worked, it just was what it was, you know?

“Hmm,” Joe said, lips smacking as he put the glass down, now finally looking away. “I don’t know... good, sure. The best? Maybe not.”

You knew what Joe was hinting at, and when you saw him chance a glance at a martini glass, you rolled your eyes.

“If you want a martini, go for it, make your own, no one’s stopping you.”

Joe tried his luck with a sad puppy eye look thrown your way, and he so very nearly got you.

But he didn’t.

There were more drinks to be made. More cocktails to fuck up and fuck up again and then fuck up once more until you got them just right.

The mess in Joe’s kitchen grew.

And Joe got drunker with every taste-testing-sip.

But he was having fun, and so were you. Especially when Joe found a video of someone explaining how to do basic bar tricks and he convinced you to try and learn some, because how wild would it be to impress Martin with some insane bar tricks upon your return?

It had the two of you stood in front of his laptop, swinging glasses, twirling the shaker, throwing ice, and at one point, you were holding onto a bottle whilst trying to follow the steps on screen.

You giggled as you somehow tangled up your arms in the process of trying to get it right.

“No, look, he swings it– you’ve got to hold it like this,” Joe explained, like he was the expert here, and grabbed a bottle for himself to demonstrate. “And then you swing, under the elbow, all around, and then, into the gla–” Joe’s reflexes worked fast as he nearly dropped the bottle, nearly let it slip from his grip, both hands fumbling and catching it just in time, “Ahem, glass.”

“Wow, a true professional,” you sarcastically said, feigned impression that made Joe laugh.

“I promise it’s easy,”

“Hmm, yea, slow learner here, remember?”

“No, look, come here, you’ve got to...” Joe used the excuse of showing you, of helping you master a bottle flip into a pour, to pull you close. To pull you right into him, your back to his chest, his arms around you to manoeuvre yours into place.

With his head right next to yours, Joe spoke softly and kept you there until you got it.

Well, that was the plan.

But then you almost smacked the bottle into his face over your shoulder and he sort of had to abruptly move back to save himself from a black eye.

It had you both in stitches, and you loved the sound of Joe’s laugh.

You were having fun.

You were in Joe’s flat and he got you all this liquor to practice making drinks until you nailed them and you wondered when you were going to tell him that Martin didn’t just fire you because you were a slow learner.

When were you going to tell him that a guest claiming her phone had gotten stolen from her coat pocket made Martin look at the CCTV footage? That Martin had seen what had lead to you leaving the bar the way that you had that night?

It wasn’t just the mess you left, the key you hadn’t left in the letterbox, the loud music you left playing, or even the kissing behind the bar...

It was all of it added up.

All the standing in the way.

All the spilled drinks.

All the kind questions from guests, asking if if was just them or if their drink tasted funny and could it maybe be remade?

It all actively worked against you. And sure, you were cute. But it reached a point where cute wasn’t enough anymore.

Dropping a gorgeous limited edition expensive bottle of Dos Artes tequila had sort of made Martin see red for a second, and that had been it, then.

Martin had pulled you aside and had just listed reason after reason after reason of why keeping you on staff would be a bad idea. A mistake. He mentioned kissing guests behind the bar and you were mortified, went beetroot red, because you had no idea he knew.

Martin knew.

Joe, however, didn’t know. He didn’t know Martin knew.

And Martin hadn’t told him he knew.

Slow learner, Martin had said. You were just a slow learner.

Correct.

You were.

But you were also a cheap slag who had gone and fucked the one true regular of the bar instead of doing her job, weren’t you?

You probably weren’t going to tell Joe.

Or maybe you would. After finishing the Christmas menu, maybe.

But then you saw how Joe’s hands found his lower back, how he pushed his stomach out as he stretched a little, and you gathered that sitting on a barstool all night wasn’t doing his back any favours.

It was getting a little late.

“Why don’t you go and sit down on the sofa, and I will... I’ll just do the last couple of drinks, bring them over and get out of your hair, all right?”

Joe tried to protest, said if you thought he wanted you out of his flat that you were wrong, but you asked if his lower back thought so too, and soon after, Joe gave in and let himself drop onto his sofa on the other side of the open floor plan living space. From where you were stood, you could see the back of his head peek out over the sofa, and Joe tried sitting sideways for a second. Tried leaning into the back of his sofa with his side, but it really did feel nicer to let his back properly sink into the pillows, so he did.

He ended up turning the TV on and watched a little of a celebrity panel show before you came over and handed him a drink.

Joe took a sip, smiled with half-lidded tired eyes and said he loved it.

Made you blush as you took it back to the kitchen.

The same thing happened twice more, and every time you noticed how Joe was growing more and more tired. Was trying harder and harder to keep his eyes open still. Was inching towards sleep.

You watched his head slowly disappear into the sofa and couldn’t help but smile.

Joe was fucking adorable.

And Joe was the fucking best thing that came out of this job you had had for a few months.

And now you had his number and his address and he had yours.

But he was falling asleep. Had enough alcohol in his blood to just let sleep take him, pretty girl in his kitchen or not. You smiled to yourself and couldn’t get rid of it when you started tidying Joe’s kitchen as quietly as you could.

It took a little while. But only because you also decided to make him a dirty martini that you left on the coffee table in front of him.

With the kitchen somewhat tidy and somewhat clean, you grabbed your coat, stood behind the sofa where you carefully took the TV’s remote from Joe’s hands and turned the TV off for him. Couldn’t help bending over and pressing a soft kiss onto the top of his head, into his hair.

You didn’t need your job back.

You’d find a different job.

Plenty of places were looking. It was a busy time of year. Nearly Christmas.

You’d find a different place with a different boss and different things to drop. A different place with a different menu and different regulars that sat at the bar.

It felt kind of bittersweet, this acceptance of this being it as you switched off Joe’s lights and left his flat with butterflies in your stomach.

Sure, alcohol too. But butterflies, mostly.

A shame.

It would probably be a while before you’d see him again.

The next day, Martin called you.

Asked for you to come in for a chat.

You’d smiled to yourself and told him that it was extremely kind of him, that he was a good boss, but if he was going to offer you the job back, you’d decline. You thanked him, told him you’d treasure the experience of working at Hush-Hush for the rest of your life, but he’d been right letting you go. Should’ve let you go much sooner, probably.

Martin seemed confused, but didn’t ask further questions.

You told him to tell Joe thanks from you and said goodbye.

You thought maybe Joe would text you.

You thought maybe he’d even show up at your door, all bewildered, because what the fuck were you doing declining a chat with Martin after you spent an entire evening mixing drinks in his kitchen?

But no texts were received and no doorbells were rung.

Just as well.

It was Christmas and you were starting a new job and you had to put your best foot forward. This wasn’t the time to think of Joe. You’d think of him later, on those weird days between Christmas and New Years, where the whole world forgot what day it even was for a little while.

But Joe didn’t get it.

Martin had put down the phone and had looked at him and then said you didn’t want to meet. Didn’t want to come over. That you thanked Martin and also Joe and that you didn’t want the job back.

Joe thought maybe you’d text him.

Or that maybe you’d show up at his flat to explain.

But then he received no texts and no one showed up at his flat.

Should he text?

No.

It was Christmas.

There were other things to focus on. Like family. Gifts and food and family members he only really ever saw once a year around this time.

After an afternoon of opening gifts, Joe almost felt guilty for his wandering mind. People kept having to repeat themselves because Joe wouldn’t hear them the first time, his mind totally elsewhere.

With you, mostly.

You were probably also with your family, doing similar things.

Were you also thinking of him the whole time?

God.

Should he just text?

Casually wish you a merry Christmas?

Could he do that?

He could, right?

After that night?

After waking up to a lukewarm otherwise perfect dirty martini on his coffee table? One that he threw back before even thinking of breakfast, hair of the dog as his excuse.

Why didn’t you want your job back?

Was it him?

Had he done something wrong?

He couldn’t fucking shake it.

Couldn’t shake it when his mother told him to hurry because they were already running late, they’d miss their reservation if there were any more delays.

Couldn’t shake it when the host of the busy restaurant seated him and his whole family at a long table in the back, beautifully set for the sixteen of them.

Couldn’t shake it when they all got settled and a loud smashing of porcelain plates was heard from the kitchen, deserving a reaction from most tables in the restaurant.

And he grinned.

Reminded him of you.

Fuck it.

He was just going to text you.

Why not?

It was Christmas and he really did hope you were having a merry one.

Joe had his eyes on his phone when a waitress walked up to his family’s table, ready to explain the menu and take their drink orders.

“Good evening everyone, merry Chri–” your breath hitched in your throat when you saw who you were looking at.

Nearly made you cough, which caught his attention.

Joe looked up from his phone and couldn’t fucking believe it.

There you were.

His vision tunneled and his hearing went, because you looked absolutely beautiful, and he was just texting you, had just typed 'merry Christmas' and, there you were, saying the actual words, and God, what were the fucking odds?

You stared at each other a moment and you were unable to stop the corners of your mouth from curling upwards.

“Hi...” Joe mouthed, looking at you like there was no one else in the room, because for a moment, to him, there really wasn’t.

“Merry Christmas,” you finished, gathering yourself together as your eyes scanned his whole table.

It zoned Joe back into reality, and he listened as you explained the menu to his whole family. Listened as you answered a question his stepdad asked you. Sat back and watched you laugh at a stupid joke he made. Saw how you pulled a notepad from a pocket, clicked a pen and asked, “Can I get you started with some drinks?”

You caught how Joe stifled a chuckle. Saw him shake his head like he couldn’t actually believe it. Watched as he raised his eyebrows and grinned, eyes pulling away from the menu to look directly into yours.

Say it, you thought.

Fucking say it.

“I’ll um...” Joe pretended to hesitate. Took a moment to show you his stupid schoolboy smirk.

You realised you’d already started missing it.

Good thing he was here.

“I’ll have a dirty martini. Shaken, not stirred.”

---

The Taglisted

@adoreyouusugar, @alana4610, @ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @barfightzanddiscolightz, @bettyfrommars, @cancankiki, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @chrissymjstan, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @dylanmunson, @eddies-puppet, @electricmunson, @emma77645, @emmamooney, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @frootvelvet, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @harringtonfan4, @haylaansmi, @jasminearondottir, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @kellyxo1, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @miserybeans, @nadixq, @notverywise, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @roosterisdaddy36, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @thebellenouvelle, @thewondernanazombie, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

[playbucky]

Operation Safe House | 1 |

Price needs a safe house, you have a safe house. Should be an easy deal, right? Well when he and the team appear in the middle of the night, you come across Ghost, Gaz and Soap, all who are unsure of you and the solitude that you have. The solitude that will soon beep broken when the people they are hunting show up unannounced. Characters – Reader (Reaper), Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz. Word Count – 2.3k Warnings – Mentions of rape, not stated out right but it is suggested.

‘Price.’ You greeted the man in front of you along with the other three men who were stood in the middle of your living room. ‘Reaper, you got space for four of us?’ Price asked, you rolled your shoulders. ‘Well you’re in.’ You commented, he gave you a shy smile. ‘Do you know your length of vacation?’ You asked, you could feel the three other men stare at you. ‘Unknown.’ Price replied, you hummed and nodded. ‘Very well.’ You said as you rolled your shoulders again and looked over the four men, their large forms seemed to take up the entire room. The door chapped and you watched as they all tensed up and moved to their guns. ‘Stay.’ You spat out, a finger stretched towards the two men, ‘Stay quiet.’ You warned them, the door chapped again, you walked into the small corridor before you opened the front door. Soap tilted his head as he watched Ghosts reaction and tried to listen to the conversation but all he could make out was mumbles. The door was then shut before your footsteps sounded and you reappeared. ‘You’ll have to bunk the night, they’re watching.’ You replied, Price nodded and stood up. ‘How many?’ ‘Three, two were in the van but I believe they might have a sniper and more in the back.’ You explained, Prince pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘Let me shut the curtains then you can move freely.’ You told them and moved around them as you pulled the curtains over. ‘Price I don’t think this is a good option.’ Soap said, he cautiously looked in the direction that you went in. ‘It might not be but it’s better than taking our chances with them.’ Price explained, Soap ran his tongue over his dry lips. ‘What about Reaper?’ Gaz asked, Ghost was relieved that he wasn’t the one to ask. ‘She’s fine.’ Price replied as you appeared at the doorway. ‘Lights go out at twenty-three hundred hours, any later and the neighbours will notice.’ You said, the men nodded. ‘What about weapons?’ Soap asked, you tilted your head to the side. ‘Follow me.’ ‘Top drawer, left hand side, two cupboards above you,’ you pointed to behind Gaz, he turned and opened the doors to reveal the guns hung inside, ‘fruit bowl and then they two.’ You said, as you tapped the two doors, Soap walked over to the fruit bowl and moved the lemon and limes to the side before he came across hand grenades. Ghost opened the last two cupboard doors as Price appeared beside him, they stepped back at the makeshift armoury. Ghost looked to Price who looked please before he turned as you reappeared with a gun that looked comically large compared to you but you handled it with ease. ‘Bedrooms upstairs, don’t go snooping in my shit.’ You warned as you checked you gun, the boys froze as you looked at them from the doorway. ‘Why do you have so much?’ Gaz quizzed, his eyes wide as looked over the selection. ‘I’m in charge of safe housing and have a few jobs with contractors.’ You informed them, lowering the gun to your side. ‘Don’t worry, I don’t know your names, ranks or ages I only know Prices name since he’s been here many times and your code names, I stay away and protect.’ You added when you noticed Soap and Ghost share a look, you looked between the two men and Soap nodded

‘You don’t have to lurk in the shadows.’ You commented, your gaze didn’t break from the computer screen that casted a bright glare over your face, the glasses did nothing to protect your eyes from the glare that seeped off them. ‘I’m not.’ He said as he walked forward, he had ditched the plastic skull but still supported the black balaclava, ‘Plus, you’re not doing much watching.’ He accused you, you arched an eyebrow as you reached forward and picked up the remote before you pressed a button. The TV to his left light up and the multiple rectangles came to life, he turned and watched. ‘I take protecting the people that come in here seriously, I understand that it’s hard to trust but…’ you trailed off, flashes of the flames appeared and your grip tightened, ‘I don’t make it a habit of letting my employees die.’ You finished, his gaze moved over you before he turned to the camera. ‘You can sit with me if you’d like but don’t expect a conversation.’ You told him, you gestured to the couch which he took two steps over before he dropped into it, a groan escaped him as he rested his muscles.

‘Where you going?’ A ruff voice asked, Ghost he was still sat on the couch that he hadn’t left all night, his large arms crossed over his chest. ‘A run.’ You replied, the hoodie over you head. ‘You’re leaving us here?’ ‘My routine keeps you safe especially when the men are still outside.’ You stated before you walked away from them and shut the door behind him.

They all jerked when the key slid into the lock and the door opened, you said goodbye to someone before you stepped in and shut the door. ‘It’s just me.’ You called out as you chucked your keys into the small bowl and slid your shoes off. ‘Do you do anything other than sit around?’ You asked, the same somber looks as they took in your sweat covered one. ‘Are they still there?’ Gaz asked. ‘Yup.’ You replied, you removed your phone from your pocket, ‘I’m gonna go shower, then we can discuss the plan.’ You said and made eye contact with Price who nodded. You gave him a small nod in return before you removed your headphones and sat them on the kitchen counter. You then grabbed the bottom of your shirt and pulled it over your shoulder, you could instantly feel them look at you before looking away but the ragged scar started under your ribs and ended at centre of your back caught their attention. You chucked the wet T-shirt over to the washing machine and turned around, which revealed more scars, smaller but littered across your stomach, chest and across your shoulders. You ignored the looks, everyone reacted the same when they saw them but you continued the short distance to the bathroom. ‘How’d you meet her?’ Gaz asked when the door shut, Price lifted his head. ‘Seven years ago.’ He said his brows furrowed, the water was switched on, ‘She was a field officer before her accident but she decided to become a contractor.’ Price started. ‘Accident?’ Soap asked, Price hesitated he didn’t know if he should tell them or not. ‘Reaper was apart of a group like us, her and five others went on a mission, two months later she walked back to base covered in scars and refused to talk for a month.’ He said, Gaz turned and looked in the direction you went, feeling like he was hearing a dirty secret. ‘Turns out her heli was knocked out the sky, no comms or anything worked. The other members had died on or shortly after impact but she survived.’ He finished, Ghost lowered his head. ‘What happened?’ Soap asked, Price shrugged. ‘We don’t know, Reaper never told us anything about they months.’ ‘You’ll need to stay another night.’ You stated as you reappeared, the men watched as you moved to the desk you and Ghost had sat at last night. ‘Should we ask why?’ Price quizzed, you shrugged a shoulder before you pressed the button and the security cameras came up on the screen. ‘They haven’t changed out, they’re planning something.’ ‘Or they could disappear within an hour.’ Gaz stated, you raised a shoulder in a shrug, you focused back on Price. ‘That or they are waiting for reinforcements.’ Price said, his brows pinched together as you lowered your head. ‘Why wait? They’ve marked the house, watched it for two days but it’s only been me they’ve saw.’ Soap said, you rolled your wrists. ‘Infrared? They probably know we’re here.’ Gaz suggested, you shook your head. ‘Can’t use it on the house.’ ‘What the house is state of the art, comes with in walls and floor heating.’ You commented, ‘the pipes run below and above us creates a massive bubble.’ You explained, they looked shocked. ‘Windows?’ Soap asked. ‘Bullets can’t get through, might break at a rocket launcher – hasn’t been tested though.’ You told them truthfully. ‘I might need to break one rule Price.’ You said, Price turned to you. ‘What?’ He asked. ‘Who’s chasing you?’ You asked, focused on the computer as you clicked through programmes before you stopped. ‘The Russian’s.’ Price told you, your brow pinched together. ‘Why are they here in London?’ You quizzed, ‘Bigger trading area.’ Gaz said, you ran your tongue over your teeth. ‘Great.’ You sighed.

You held the gun with one hand as you lowered onto your knees and spread them out, you continued bending until the gun's legs touched the ground. You shifted to lie on your dominant side before you pulled that knee up, the handle of the gun rested on your shoulder and you breathed. ‘Reaper.’ The voice called out, you moved to find them, ‘Or should I call you Y/N?’ The Russian asked, your shoulders tensed up. ‘I knew you were familiar, I had friends raving about you over in Berlin.’ ‘Do the men that your protecting know that you willingly spread your legs for the boss?’ He asked, you lowered the rifle. ‘Enough about me,’ you shouted loudly, he smiled widely, ‘if you’re accusing me of this I feel like I should know your name.’ You said, the area was silent. ‘Percy. Percy Markov.’ He introduced himself. ‘He’s the lead we need.’ Prices voice came through the comms, he’s more than that you thought. ‘I don’t like talking up to you, it hurts my neck, could you come down?’ Percy asked, you tilted your head to the side and allowed it to touch the cold metal, and you groaned. ‘Reaper be careful.’ Price warned you, you pushed yourself up with a grunt. ‘Come on Price, he just wants to talk.’ ‘Don’t kill him.’ He warned, you scoffed as you passed him on your way down the stairs, Soap and Gaz waited in line with him. You opened the door, noticing the group of armed men that stood on the road. Your eyes darted around before they pinpointed on Percy, his hair had been cut since that last time you had saw him, his skin still pale but decorated with the tattoos. Percy smiled when he spotted you. ‘Step outside.’ Percy said, ‘no weapons.’ He added, you tilted your head to the side before you reached behind your back and pulled the dagger free from your waist band. You showed it to Percy before you turned and held your hand out to Ghost who was just behind the door. His gloved hand accepted it. ‘And the one of your ankle.’ Percy added, your eyes flickered to the side before you balanced on one leg and slipped your fingers into your boot and pulled the sharpened blade out. You lifted you gaze and met Ghost’s as you handed it to him.

‘Reaper.’ Ghost grumbled, your jaw clenched. ‘Come on Y/N I don’t have all day.’ Percy complained, you blinked slowly. ‘I want to savour my time alive.’ You called back, you gaze then locked on Ghost’s before you stepped forward. ‘I need you to trust me for the next five minutes.’ You whispered to him, knowing your conversation was blocked by the door, you pulled back enough to see him nod. ‘Why are so sure that you’ll die?’ Percy asked as you stepped over the barrier, he stepped closer. ‘Because I’m going to do a stupid thing.’ You admitted to him, his brows furrowed together before you gave him a polite smile. He ducked his head and returned the smile, but it was quickly wiped off when you stretched out, the side of your hand connected with his throat. Percy buckled over and you wrapped an arm around his shoulders, you pulled him tight to your chest as you grabbed the small pistol that sat on his hip. Emptying the clip out you watched his men drop, uncaring if you had hit them or not as you turned and kicked Percy into the house. He stumbled backwards and tripped on the small ledge, his back collided with the floor before you chucked his empty gun across the street and jumped in. Within seconds of you slamming the door shut and flipping the locks on, Percy was in handcuffs as you dragged him to the living room. ‘You bitch.’ Percy groaned, as Soap and Ghost hauled him up and into a wooden chair provided by Gaz. ‘Oh, he’s alive.’ You said as you squatted down in front of him. ‘We’ll start hunting your neighbours.’ He hissed out, you pursed your lips and tipped your head. ‘Hard chance.’ You replied, Percy and the group looked at you confused. ‘There are no neighbours, I wouldn’t put innocents at risk.’ You explained. ‘Now, these men are going to ask you questions and you’re going to answer.’ ‘And if I don’t?’ ‘I will peel your skin from your body whilst you watch.’ You told him calmly, this affected him as he glanced to the men before he looked back at you. ‘Do they know what happened to you?’ Percy quizzed, jutting his chin to them. ‘No, we’ve only just met.’ ‘Did you know she killed her teammates?’ He asked, the men didn’t react, but Ghost watched as you stood to your full height. He was sure he heard some of the bones cracking. ‘Her intel led the team right to them, watched as they crashed and burned before her.’ He taunted, you raised an eyebrow as you nodded, ‘Then she joined them, worked alongside them and spread her legs as her pay to them.’ You rolled your shoulders and stepped forward, your face void of all emotion. Percy’s eyes widened slightly before you smiled down at him. ‘The men have questions to ask.’ You told Percy, occasionally thumps connected with the front door as his henchmen shot at it.

‘The police will be here.’ Percy sneered, this seemed to stop the men from going any further. ‘Ask away.’ You motioned to him, Percy continued to fight the restraints. ‘The police?’ Gaz asked, you shook your head. ‘Unless I enter a code, no police come to this street.’ You said, you walked into the kitchen and poured yourself a drink. ‘So, you can get messy and he can scream like the pig he is.’ You told them before you downed the glass. ‘Heard you spread your legs for them.’ Percy said, Price and Soap looked at you as Ghost continued to stare at him, ‘Specifically the boss, had a soft spot for him didn’t you.’ You clenched your jaw and looked at him, the wide smile taunting you. ‘Two months was a long time to survive there, you must have some really good p -,’ ‘Why are you so fascinated with me?’ You cut, he looked at you, the bloody nose dripped over his lips. ‘I’m not fascinated with you.’ ‘No?’ You quizzed, he shook his head, ‘all you’ve talked about is me, my past and my wrong doings.’ You listed, Percy’s face dropped slightly. ‘Why are you really in London?’ You asked him, he looked at you as he raised an eyebrow. ‘Percy, you better talk or I’ll use my skills that you know so much about.’ You threatened. ‘Fine.’ You said, you almost heard his exhale in relief as you turned and opened a drawer. The items inside knocked against each other before you rummage around, the men watched as you smiled and stuck you hand in the drawer, you pulled it out with a wooden rolling pin clutched tightly. ‘I’ll give you ten goes to answer the question, then I’ll move onto your toes.’ You said, calmly whilst you chucked the rolling pin up and caught it. You walked over to him, he started to panic and you smiled, quickly you stretched a hand out and wrapped it around his wrist. You yanked it forward, he yelped as he tried to fight it. Carefully you moved your wrist down his hand, you pulled a finger free and rested it over the edge of the armrest. ‘Why are you in London?’ You asked, he glared at you whilst he remained silent. You pursed your lips and nodded before you brought the rolling pin down, his finger snapped loudly as he yelled, you ignored it as you extended his middle finger. ‘Why here?’

[evan4ever]

James March x reader. The reader is very innocent like they don’t curse, drink, smoke, etc. James just adores it so much cuz it’s the opposite of him. He gives them random gifts and special dinners (maybe some slow dancing). As well as tons of affection like cheek and hand kisses, cuddles, holding hands, and helps you get ready for the day. He’s very overprotective and possessive of them like a kid who has a special teddy bear, so the other ghosts better watch their backs if they try to mess with the reader. He never lets them know he’s a serial killer but they know he’s a ghost.

Innocence

Warnings: talk about murder just a bit but no warnings really, just a sweet fic again!

a/n: you didn’t really give me a plot andI wasn’t sure if you wanted lime a headcannon or not so I hope what I came up with works for you 😅 but with reader being innocent and almost too naive while JPM protects her and is possessive lol 🥹

—

You first met James when you had to find a hotel quick and one that didn’t cost your entire paychecks worth to stay in for a night. You were in the city for a last minute job interview the next day, and you were lucky enough to meet the owner of the Cortez who has offered you a deal to stay.

You were pretty blown away by his offer, having been at the lounge where you enjoyed a nice glass of lemon water before the man, who introduced himself as James Patrick March, approached you. After some visiting, and many odd but enjoyable questions from him later, he offered you the night for a discounted price of $15. You weren’t sure why, but didn’t dare object.

However, your original plan to call it a night by 8 PM soon turned to 11 PM, then next thing you knew it was 2 in the morning and James and yourself just couldn’t seem to pry away from each other. It was magnetizing being around the other, for both.

James was so beyond intrigued by you. He knew times had changed, and that modern day women weren’t as classy and “well kept” as they were in his day. But you were different, not at all like the females that trotted into the hotel, getting drunk or high and using such foul language with every word, wearing nothing more than a dress that barely covered them. No. You were the classy that James once adored and almost never saw again.

It drew him to you. Not just how you dressed or how you spoke, but your pure and complete innocence. It was something James wanted to protect, he wanted you to keep forever. And he’d make sure of it, if you let him of course.

Though he drank, he, on occasion, would use a foul word, and he had no innocence left in him — you were the opposite of him. And if it were a true myth, James believed it was love at first sight.

That night was the beginning of your most exciting, spoiled life; and that is said with confidence.

You had started returning to see James often, more and more often, until you practically lived there. You met many people, some you enjoyed, some you weren’t fond of. But it was many months later that James finally vowed his love to you, you returning the vow, and James filling you in on part of his secret.

You learned he was a ghost. And for someone like you, it didn’t take much convincing. However, you weren’t scared of him in the slightest. It did make you more cautious around the other ghosts and ghouls that forever took residency in the hotel, but never around James. And he promised himself he’d never allow you to find out of his dark side, the murder side of him. That was a side of him that he kept hidden away because he had found such joy through you that he almost didn’t need to feel the excitement of killing others by his own hands.

He knew someone like you would never be okay with murder. Especially if those who were innocent. And he didn’t expect you to ever change that part of you, so he simply never let you in on that secret side of him.

It was easy.

Besides Devils Night.

That was hard the first time you had been in the hotel during it. But, he was able to keep you preoccupied long enough with the help of Liz to get the night over with, where he expressed to the other monsters he guessed that you were completely and utterly off limits.

But the years spent together after that, Devils Night was never a concern. You never even caught on.

But the years spent with James were years he spoiled you rotten. He’d buy you anything you expressed interest in. He’d shower you in flowers. He’d run you a bath every night. He simply could not do enough for you to feel satisfied, because he was just that in love with you.

And though you were just as in love with him, he’d never allow you to go above and beyond for him the way he did for you. You would try, and he’d stop you. The most you were able to do for him was buy him his favorite cologne or alcohol, even when you had no idea about anything alcohol related. He loved the gesture, but never let you do much more.

You weren’t sure what you did to deserve someone like James. Needless to say, you never went to your job interview that first time staying in the hotel. And only a few months later, you basically lived in the hotel. Only some months after that, you stayed with James in his suite 24/7. At that point, you were his and he was yours. Even now, 6 years later.

You made it so easy for him, too. You never questioned anything. He was able to run three quarters of his life with you while using the other quarter to fulfill his murder tendencies and keep the hotel running accordingly. He even managed to keep you from meeting the countess, somehow. He had Liz and Sally to thank for that. He was aware of the mess that could bring, and he was in such a good place with you, wrapped around each others fingers.

That nearly came to an end.

“My love?” You entered the living area of your suite where James had been filling his cup with whatever alcohol he was drinking this time. He glanced at you and smiled brightly.

“Yes dear?” He sips while eyeing you so you’d know you had his full attention. You smiled, a half way smile, not your typical smile, and James immediately became concerned. “What is it? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, James, really.. it’s just.. I had an encounter today. With—“

“Elizabeth.” James finished your sentence, noticeably unhappy by this. You only nodded, allowing him to explain himself. “Ah yes. The time has come that I must tell you about her.” He sighs, taking ahold of your hand gently and leading you to the couch where you allowed him to help you sit, he sitting beside you. “Listen, dear,” he pauses, seeming unsure of where to start.

“I’m not angry, James.” You reassured before he could start again. His eyes seemed to relax as they remained glued to yours. “I just want to know the story from you.”

“What all… did she say.. exactly?” He asked, genuinely curious. He didn’t care about much of anything she could possibly tell you, only if she were to have revealed his deepest secret about his love for murdering, or if she had threatened you at all.

“She only told me of her past with you. I’m unsure whether it was a warning? Like, her way of telling me I should run while I can?” You raised your eyebrow at him curiously before letting a smile take place on your lips. “Not that I would ever listen to such a silly suggestion. I love you too much.” You grabbed his hand this time, squeezing it. “I just had no idea you were ever married.”

James sighed but held your hand tightly, bringing it up to his lips and placing a soft kiss to your knuckles before setting and holding it against his chest.

“I was, yes. A long, long… long time ago. Elizabeth being the original owner of this hotel, we married and I took over. I showered her with all my love, I gave her everything. I thought she was my one and only.” James goes quiet as you tilt your head, letting him finish. “I know now how very wrong I was.” He met your eyes again with sincerity, squeezing your hands that he was still holding against his chest.

“So what happened?” You asked, curious to know more about him. James kept things hidden from you, you were aware of that. But you were much too in love to question him too much, and some things you knew better than to want to know, so you were okay with being kept in the dark. But since this was an opportunity to learn a little more about his past, you couldn’t help but indulge in it.

“She was only using me, dear. I was a means to fill a void that I wasn’t aware was empty and longing for a past lover. She loved my gifts and my attention. But had no interest in loving me like I did her. Later, her past lover showed up out of nowhere and she was planning to run away with him. After that, I no longer cared for her.”

“But, she’s still here? Why?”

James went silent, not sure how to fill this part of the story. He didn’t kill Rudolph or Natacha. But he did lock them in this hotel and remove the door so they’d have to spend eternity here… since they were already vampires and couldn’t die. James felt it was a nice revenge on his now ex-wife, she believes they re-abandoned her all over again. She loves her life in anger and wonder, and it’s so sweet for James to see.

“They left her. Abandoned her again.” He nodded. You frown, feeling somewhat sympathetic for Elizabeth. “Don’t frown for the woman!” James states, a deep frown on his own face. “She was a monster, dear. I know you’re not one to feel this way for anyone you know but, she got all she deserved.”

You gazed at him for a moment as you took in his words before sighing and taking your hands from hi, resting one hand on the side of his face. “I do love you, James. So very much.” James leans into your hand, his eyes closing as he takes in the feeling of your skin against his, your scent so strong and as intoxicating as the alcohol he sips daily. “You don’t have to feel anger anymore, though. You can let it go, all the hurt and betrayal that woman caused you. She is no longer worth your while. For your own happiness, you should let it go.”

James listened to you, knowing your words held so much truth. It amazes him at times, how a woman of your culture could be so intelligent, so mature past your young age. He was blessed beyond words.

“You’re right, dear. You are very right.” He takes ahold of and turns his face into your hand, kissing from your palm up the majority of your soft, fragile arm. You smiled in awe as you watched him, his eyes glancing up to meet yours. “You amaze be every day.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Because you keep me on my toes every day. Never can know just what to expect here, but I would never trade it for anything.”

—

[u10como]

Some time ago, i released this picture on my DA with a caption, later suppplemented by a short story expanding on the theme, followed by personal afterword regarding my background and themes of the story, which i now decided to present here on tumblr, all joined into one text. Once again, english isn't my first language, it was one of the first longer pieces i wrote and i'm by no means a writer, but i hope some of you might enjoy it nonetheless.

Hope you don't mind

You met her on an online forum about your favourite band and you've been messaging for a month now. She was just perfect: Funny, smart and as far as you were aware she was really interested in you, but everytime you suggested meeting somewhere, she said she's either busy or just changed the subject. Not wanting to push her, you gave her some time to think about it.

One morning a message from her, accompanied by a photo landed in your inbox:

"So...this isn't easy for me, but you seem like genuinely good person and i'd hate myself if i passed that opportunity  because i was insecure. Anyway, this is me. I had an accident with high voltage  power lines six months ago and i'm still insecure about meeting new people or going in public in general.

If you feel weird about it i completely understand and won't bother you any more, but if you still want to meet, i know a nice little pizzeria just around corner from where i live. The owner is an old family friend and could arrange a small room in the back for us so people won't stare."

Why should i mind?

As you read the message over and over, your mind is racing, filled with mixed emotions. On one hand, you're relieved – she really wants to meet you after all. On the other hand you can't help but feel sad – such a beautiful, smart girl, full of life, suffering from such horrible injury. Of course, you never for a second consider saying no to her proposition – she is still the great girl you messaged with the past month. You immediately write your reply:

„Hey! Of course i still want to meet you - i've been asking to meet you for some time now and nothing changed about that! Today, 4 in the afternoon works for you? Just tell me where the pizzeria is and i'll wait for you there.“

In few minutes she replied:

„Oh, you can't believe how relieved i am – thank you for not being weird about it! Yes, 4 will be perfect time. The pizzeria is Giovanni's on the corner of Oak and Harbor st – just tell the owner you're Jana's friend, he'll seat you in the back.“

„Well… I have a date!“ you think to yourself. Rummaging through your wardrobe you struggle to find anything you'll be satisfied with – going all dressed up like to prom seems like overkill, but you don't want to come all casual either – after all, you really care for her and you want to show it. In the end you settle for your least worn cargo pants with a T-shirt of your favorite band – you know she likes them too, so you hope this might outweigh your otherwise way too casual look. You set off early, intending to buy flowers for her. After careful consideration, you buy a nice bouquet of seven pink carnations and set off to Giovanni's.

As you step inside ten minutes before 4, the owner – a rather short, somewhat overweight yet muscular man with large hands and a bushy mustache above his friendly smile greets you. „Welcome to Giovanni's, what can i do for you?“ „Uhm, hello, i am Friend of Jana…“ „Oh, Wonderful, wonderful!“ the owner interrupts you with a big warm smile, A friend of our little Jana is my friend too! Right this way, have a seat, i'll bring you a vase for these beautiful flowers. Care for a drink in the mean time?“ „Yes, i saw you serve a homemade lemonade, please.“ you answer. „A wonderful choice! Comming right up!“ says the owner with a wide smile.

With that, the owner runs back front, returning in half a minute with your lemonade served in beautiful tall glass with pieces of lemon, lime and mint leaves, toped with a bright red straw. „Here you go! When Jana arrives i'll send her right away. Now, if i may ask, when did you two met? Pardon me for asking what might be a personal question, but you see, being friends with her parents ever since i moved here, Jana is like niece to me.“ "Oh, don't apologise, i understand.“, you reply, “To be frank, we haven't met in person yet, we were just chatting over internet and i really liked her – and the feeling was mutual, dare i presume.“ „I see“, says the owner, „So you know about…?“, He struggles to put his thoughts to words, instead just shrugs his shoulders one by one.

„Oh? Oh! Yes, i do. In fact, she told me just this morning.“ „I was just asking.“, nods the owner, „You see, our poor little Jana suffered enough. I just don't want her to leave today with a broken heart, so i wanted to make sure you won't freak out or something.“ „Oh no, don't worry, sir. I was asking her for a meetup for two weeks before i knew about it. I liked her before i knew about it and i don't see why it should change anything.“ The owner nods his head „I see. You're good in my books then, kid. I'm glad Jana found someone so understanding.“ He pats your shoulder as he says that.

There is a ring from the little bell above entrance and a young woman's voice calls:

„Uncle Tigran, are you there?“ „That's her.“ Says the owner and rushes off to the front. „My little Jana, it's so nice to see you again! Your friend is in the back, go, have some fun, and when you're ready, call me and i'll be right back to take your order.“

You stand up to greet her. In few seconds, she peeks inside the room with a shy, almost affraid look on her face. As your eyes meet, she smiles at you and you smile back. Despite the smile, her green eyes show a hint of timid apprehension. As she steps in, you notice her motionless hands, convincing at first glance, but knowing her condition, obviously artificial.

"Hi, nice to finally meet you", you say, holding the bouquet of carnations forward. "Oh, these are beautiful, thank you, she says, leaning in to smell them. Looking into her beautiful green eyes, your heart flutters with happiness.

„I'm really so glad to finally meet you in person“ you say. „You're even more beautiful than on the photo .“

„Oh, thank you. Nobody said such thing to me since…“ she pauses, looking into distance. After few seconds she breaks off, shyly attempting to smile on you. „Anyway, would you mind helping me with my coat?“ „Of course, right away“, you say as you move in to unbutton it. As you remove her coat, the prosthetic arms slip off her shoulders, staying firmly inside the coat's sleeves, letting her little arm stumps show. „Oh, sorry, i didn't mean to, let me…“ you stammer an apology.

„No, that's allright. They were meant to come off. I should have told you. I wear them on the street to avoid the stares, but they are so uncomfortable, so since here i am among people who know about me, i just hooked them to the coat so i don't have to wear them all the time.“

As you sit on the opposite sides of the table, you suddenly don't know what to say. You see she is uncomfortable, so you try to steer the conversation a different way.

„So… This pizzeria – It's named Giovanni's, but i heard you call the owner a different name?“

„Oh yes, uncle Tigran gave this establishment italian sounding name as marketing trick. He is great, though, one of the best pizza chefs around. He says he spent five years in Naples learning about local cuisine, actually. I understand you already talked with him?“

„Oh yes, he seems like really nice, but no-nonsense kind of guy. Told me you're like a niece to him and warned me not to break your heart. Not that i intended to, anyway.“, you add with a smile.

„Yeah, uncle Tigran was always nice to me. He visited me in the hospital almost daily when i…“ once again, Jana's gaze slides into distance.

„You don't have to talk about it, i'm sorry if i reminded you in any way.“ You say hastily.

„Oh? No, don't apologize, you did nothing wrong, it's just… Everything reminds me, you know? Wherever i go, whatever i do, every single thing reminds me i no longer…“ she pauses and sighs, lifting her stumps to illustrate her point before continuing „…have arms. Waking up in the morning, i try to lift my blanket and these useless things just flap about helplessly. Reaching for things, trying to do any simple task, even steadying myself when i trip – everything i do i must remind myself i can't do it the normal way anymore. If it was just one i could deal with it, but like this? I feel so helpless sometimes. The first few weeks in the hospital i had to bother the nurses everytime my nose got itchy, not to mention i had to be showered by them, just standing there, leting them clean me off. Tt felt so dehumanising... I'm sorry i spilled all this on you, it's my problem and i should deal with it myself, you don't have to think about it.“ She averts her eyes, looking down into the table.

„Jana,“, you say, „If i wanted not to think about it i wouldn't be here with you – and that would make me quite a bad person, don't you think? I came because i liked you from the moment we started chatting, long before i ever saw you. If there is anything i can do to help you – even if it would be just to stand by your side to always be able to remind you how great person you are whenever should you doubt yourself – i want to be there and help you.“

With tears welling in her eyes, Jana lifts her head „Really? You would do that for me?“

„Of course i would. You are smart, funny and stunningly beautiful. If i can help it, i wish for you never to be sad again“, you reach over the table with a tissue to wipe the tears from her cheeks.

„Thank you,“ she says, suppressing tears, visibly moved. „I never thought i would hear anybody say that to me. Come on - let's order some food, i'm starving.“

As if waiting for his cue, the owner comes in with a big smile „So, what would you want, my dears? We have excellent Margherita Napoletana, but if you're not into traditional pizza, i might do a regular New York style. Most people prefer that, anyway – beats me why, though, there's nothing better than proper traditional italian pie.“

„I think i could go for your Napoletana, Jana told me you're one of the best pizza chefs around, mister… uhh…“ „Tigran Manukyan, at your service.“, he replies with maybe a little too deep bow, „I presume our little Jana here told you about my little trick already, so why should i hide it anymore? Anyway, what can i offer you, my darling?“ says mister Manukyan turning to Jana. „I'll take the Napoletana too, uncle Tigran. And might i ask you for a glass of that lemonade too? It looks so refreshing.“ „Comming right up, my dears“, says mister Manukyan and rushes off.

„So… Where were we?“ asks Jana. „Well,“ you say, „I just told you you're beautiful and i wish to be always there for you.“

„Oh…“ she pauses, but smiles, finally seeming to be at ease, „I mean… Thank you. I'm sorry, I've became quite bad at taking compliments lately – not that i ever was any good to begin with, but now… i mean, you know, with my…“ she says, wiggling her arm stumps.

„You don't have to explain yourself, i understand“, you calm her, „Jusk know you are beautiful to me and nothing can ever change that. In fact, you were beautiful to me long before i knew how you even look, when we were still just chatting.“

Mister Manukyan comes with Jana's glass of lemonade and a pitcher „I brought you two some more for refills – on the house of course. The pizzas will be done in few minutes.“ Almost unisono, you and Jana reply „Thank you, mister Manukyan /Thank you, uncle Tigran“ and with a smile, he leaves.

„Anyway,“ says Jana, „I know you're telling me that just to make me feel better. Why would somebody as cute as you consider someone ‚beautiful‘ just from an online chat?“ she says, leaning forward for the straw and taking a sip from her drink.

„Maybe because i found a great person to talk to and spend time with.“ You reply, looking directly into Jana's eyes. „Maybe i don't care about looks that much. Maybe i think beauty is not only based on somebody's looks. And maybe, or not as much maybe as quite undeniably surely, you are actually beautiful even if i would step so low as to judge you just by your looks. You have pretty face, beautiful hair and the most captivating emerald eyes i've ever seen. But even without that, you are above all the brave, smart girl i came to know and love – and nothing can change that.“

„Brave? How am i brave? I spent half a year hiding from world, almost never leaving my room unless i had to.“ Replied Jana.

„Yet you came here and invited me.“, you say, “You overcame your anxiety and reached out. That alone was braver than most people would ever hope to be. All i ask of you is to believe in yourself as i believe in you. You are the bravest girl in know and i love you for that.“

„I love you too“, she says, hint of tears in her eyes once again as she shifts closer to you with her arm stumps outstretched. Understanding the hint, you hug her, gently stroking her hair with your hand.

„Oh, young love, what a beautiful sight!“ says mister Manukyan as he comes in with your pizzas in each hand „Here is your food, my dears, Bari Akhorzhak to you both!“

„Uncle Tigran,“ says Jana, lifting her head from your shoulders, „this was the first time ever i heard you speaking Armenian in your pizzeria.“

„Well, i figured i might as well drop the act, my dear.“ said mister Manukyan with a smile. „Pizza is my passion and my living, but i'm no Italian and never will be. Maybe it's time for me to fly my true colors with pride. People come here for good food, not for fake Italian. Of course, a name change would be required, then, but i hope people would come nonetheless. After all ‚Uncle Tigran's‘ has a nice ring to it, no? And i might as well put some of my old family recipes on the menu. Next time you come, i'll make you the best Lahmajoun you ever had, i promise!“

„That would be really great, mister Manukyan“, you say with enthusiasm, „I'm looking forward to it.“

As mister Manukyan leaves with a big, warm smile, you and Jana sit to your pizzas. "Do you need any help?" you ask. "No." says Jana almost too quickly. "Well yes, probably, but i shouldn't. I need to do this on my own - i mean, there won't always be somebody around to help me, but i will be always armless, you know?" You notice her suddenly easing up, as if adressing her condition out loud, without euphemisms or hesitating helped her finally come to terms with it. "Would you mind helping me taking off my shoes, though?"

"Of course", you say as you kneel and gently lift her right foot in your hand, taking off her shoe and sock, then doing the same with her left foot. "Thank you. You're a real sweetheart" she says, lifting her feet up to the tabletop, awkwardly picking the fork with her left foot and knife with the right. As you sit on the opposite side of table, you can't take your eyes off her while she cuts a small piece of her pizza and using the fork in her left food brings it to her mouth with a great effort.

"Oooh!" she smiles with pleasure as she savors the food in her mouth, "I almost forgot how great uncle Tigran's pizzas are! You should eat too while it's hot." Taking a bite from your own pizza, you must agree - this is certainly the best pizza you ever had. As you both eat, you notice Jana's movements becoming ever so slightly more fluent and relaxed with each bite. you can't help but stop and look at her, smiling.

"What? Is something on my face?" she asks as she starts rubbing her nose with her right stump. "No, it's just... When you came you were all tense and apprehensive, but now you seem to ease up." "I just know i'm in a good company", she says, shrugging her shoulders, "I mean, yeah, i knew you are funny and kind from the first time we started chatting, but now, you made me feel... appreciated, normal. Like i matter. I... probably just needed to hear that, you know? Like... from somebody outside of my family." "I see," you say, "But how come you weren't so shy when we were chatting on the forum?"

"I don't know, i guess the anonymity played a part, you know?" she ponders, "Like - on the internet, nobody sees me. Nobody knows. There's no way to tell whether the person on the other side is beautiful, ugly, thin, fat or uses toes to write. That probably helped me there."

"Tell me about it," you say. "Sometimes i feel anxious even making a phonecall, let alone talking to strange people in person!" "You?" she smiles "No way! You seem so cool and confident. After all, you asked me out first, i would have never had the guts to do it myself without you."

"The same magic of the anonymous internet as in your case" you reply, "And if i somehow seem confident now, it's only because i feel like we known each other for ages. It's hard to describe, but i feel like we were meant to be together, you know?"

setting down the knife, she extends her right foor over the table towards you, gently stroking your face with her big toe. Smiling, you take her foot in your hands, planting a soft kiss on her ankle. She giggles "That tickles! But... it feels nice." Kising her foot once again, you let go of it, looking deep into her green eyes with a warm smile. "So, are you up for a little stroll after we finish our pizzas?", you ask her. "Gladly!", she replies as she puts another piece i her mouth. "Do you have any specific place in mind?" "Well," you say, "I was thinking of just going for a walk, but if you want, we might go to the gazebo on the cliff above the city and watch the sunset together?" "Oh, romantic!" she exclaims with excitement. "I like that."

When you finish your pizzas, mister Manukyan comes in to clean up, almost as if he was waiting for his cue. "Enjoyed your food, my dears?" he asks, "Everything was up to your liking? "Of yourse, uncle Tigran," responds Jana with a smile, "I always loved your cooking."

As you leave Jana in the back to pay for the food, mister Manukyan says:

"Thank you for everything, kid. Jana really needed someone to just be there for her. She used to visit me every week, but since her accident she just moved back to her parent's house and stoped going out. I knew what she was going through, but i had no idea how to help. Turns out, all she really needed was for someone outside of her family to just treat her with love and respect and you did just that. I won't lie to you - i doubt if stuff would be just *poof* and everything is okay now, people just don't work like that and i am sure there is still a lot ahead of Jana before she's back to the cheerful self i remember from before her accident, but i feel like you really helped her make a big progress today. Once again, thank you for that."

"It was my pleasure, mister Manukyan." you replied, "She is great girl and i fell for her ever since we started chatting." "I'm glad to hear that. And please, you can call me Tigran", he says with a smile, "Or Uncle Tigran, whole town will know me like that anyway soon, at least i hope."

After shaking hands with mister Manukyan, you return to Jana, who is almost prepared to leave. As you help her tie her shoes loose enough so she can slip them on and off at will, you go fetch her coat.

"No, you can leave that here,", she says, "i'll talk with uncle Tigran and ask him to hide it somewhere so i can pick it up later."

"Are you sure? Your arms are in there, don't you want to put them on?"

"Not really. As i said, they are heavy and uncomfortable. Also, they are purely cosmetic, so aside from keeping people from staring, they are pretty much useless.", she said. "And if that means people will stare, then so be it. I need to get used to showing in public and i thought why not now, when i have you by my side?" "As you wish," you reply. "Shall we go, then?"

"Okay. I hope you don't mind being seen in public with a disabled girl"

"Being seen with beautiful smart girl i love? Why shuld i mind?"

A little afterword is due.

This story, while obviously coming from place of my attraction to women with, let's say, non-standard physique, in this particular case bilateral arm amputees, is a departure from my usual style. My usual character background snippets revolve around happier circumstances - my characters usualy lose their limbs voluntarily, non-permanently or in some obscure magic way, which, while it can't be assured to be temporary, has the peculiar side effect of making them weirdly okay with the changes.

This is not the case. In reality, a limb loss is a powerful traumatic experience to vast majority of people. Overcoming such trauma might take weeks, months, years even, and some people may never recover mentally. I felt like this point was worth mentioning and keeping in mind.

As for overall themes of this story, the main themes are hope, acceptance and dealing with adversity. In that sense, Jana's condition is a stand-in for number of problems which might cause a person to lose their sense of self-worth and shut themselves off from the world. If you are suffering from any condition causing you to feel that way, remember this: You Matter. You are loved. And while in real life, recovery will certainly not come as quickly as for Jana in my story, the point illustrated still stands: Some battles are not meant to be fought alone. Sometimes all you need is to find someone who will help you carrying your burden. Remember, that leaning on your friends in hard times isn't weakness. On the contrary, knowing when to ask for help is major strength. And if you do not suffer from any such problems, then please, be mindful of those who do. Be kind, accepting and unconditionally loving as our unnamed protagonist. After all, the protagonist is reffered as You, because they are supposed to represent the best in every single one of us. Man, woman, trans or non-binary, if you're reading this, i hope you will always be as unconditionally accepting as the protagonist is to Jana.

Some elements of the setting sort of come from my own experience. The overall setting of my stories is this usual culturally neutral americano-european mishmash, made for easier accesibility for wider audience, but certain characters or places might carry something from my personal experience. As some of you might know, i am Czech, so i decided to write Jana as one too - even though this might not be really apparent from anything beside her name, that is her intended nationality. Whether you imagine her as local, thinking of this story's setting as somewhere in Czechia or as immigrant to a foreign country of your choice is up to you. Also, the character of Tigran Manukyan is losely based on my own experience: Where i'm from, a lot of pizzerias are actually owned by people from Armenia, Georgia or Turkey and a lot of their owners are very similar to "uncle Tigran" both in their appearance and in their cheerful, friendly way of greeting their customers. Uncle Tigran's character arc is also about acceptance: Accepting own cultural heritage, because every culture is worth preserving.

So, this is the end of my little PSA. Respect each other, be tolerant to one another and try to help those whose life dealt them the worse hand.

[kcrossvine-art]

Γεια σας! Here we are at the Penultimate Redwall Recipe we're going to cover, and this ones a two-fer as most of the drinks are. Today from the Redwall Cookbook we're covering both Applesnow and Mossflower Mulled Cider!

(you can also find the original recipe at the bottom if you’d like to follow along)-

MY NAMES CROSS NOW LETS COOK LIKE ANIMALS

SO, “what goes in to an Applesnow?” YOU MIGHT ASK

Sauce apple (such as McIntosh or Cortland)

Ground cinnamon

Sugar

Eggwhite

AND, “well, what goes in to an Mossflower Mulled Cider?” YOU MIGHT ASK

2 cups apple cider

3 tablespoons sugar

4 cloves

1 cinnamon stick

Pinch ground allspice

2 slices lime or lemon

Applesnow is essentially applesauce but fancy-ed with the egg, you can cook more or less time for various applesauce consistencies, the time this recipe gives will have it be less mushy (or not cooked at all…).

AND, “what does each taste like?” YOU MIGHT ASK

Theyre both very simple dishes that pack a lot of flavor!

Applesnow is definitely best served chilled

Eggwhites, when beaten enough, have a good texture to them (youll need to beat them until theyre soft-firm peaks!!! Don't underbeat them!!)

Though the taste of eggwhites on the applesauce is….. Acquired. I did not like it, it tasted too savory/breakfasty

the cider is sweet and smooth, buttery

citrus adds a really nice tang to balance out the more complicated flavors

The english have some damn weird desserts

. doubled allspice amount in applesnow . doubled cinammon/cloves amount in cider

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

From deciding to make both to having both completed and ready to eat, id say it took about an hour- most of this was me double checking recipes and waiting for my electric stovetop to heat haha.

Applesnow is a fascinating concept- you dont often see egg whites alone used in end results. It doesnt have a strong flavor on its own but the texture is very satisfying because its layered with the applesauce, and the applesauce is delicious because its spiced. Measure with your heart on that also. But whipping egg whites is quite a bit of work and i think i wouldve personally liked this better with vanilla bean icecream? Making it closer to a sundae than Applesnow.

The Mossflower Mulled Cider makes about one large glass, so id recommend making the recipe in a larger quantity just given how long it takes for spices to incorporate. Also, try to shoot for a tall saucepan! I made mine in the same pot i use for pasta and had it been just a wee bit shorter on the walls it wouldve been impossible to stir enough for the sugar to incorporate.

Really excited to get to the last redwall recipe next review! I have some closing thoughts on the book and hopefully it wont take me too long to come out with it. Thank you all so much for reading along this far, it really does mean a lot to me how much folks have enjoyed this series and seeing people save recipes for cooking later :')

I give Applesnow an 8/10, and Mossflower Mulled Cider a 10/10 (with 1 being food that makes one physically sick and 10 being food that gives one a lust for life again.)

🐁 ORIGINAL RESIPPY TEXT BELOW 🐁

Applesnow Ingredients:

1 large sauce apple (such as McIntosh or Cortland), peeled, cored, and thinly sliced

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon (optional)

Sugar (or other sweetener), to taste

1 egg white (see Note)

NOTE: Raw Egg Whites For most healthy people, the risk of salmonella food poisoning from a fresh egg white is small. To minimize this risk, use the egg white directly from the refrigerator and serve immediately, or, to avoid all risk, substitute powdered egg whites. Follow package directions to reconstitute the equivalent of one white.

Method:

Place the apple slices in a saucepan with the cinnamon, if using, and add 2 tablespoons ofwater. Bring to a boil over medium heat, then cover the pan, reduce the heat, and simmer until the apple goes mushy, 5 to 10 minutes.

Transfer the apple mush to a bowl, add the sugar, and beat until smooth. Let cool.

Just before serving, beat the egg white in a mixer until stiff. Fold the egg white into the apple and serve.

Mossflower Mulled Cider Ingredients:

2 cups apple cider

3 tablespoons sugar

4 cloves

1 cinnamon stick

Pinch ground allspice

2 slices lime or lemon

Method:

In a saucepan over medium heat, combine the cider, sugar, cloves, cinnamon and allspice and stir together until the sugar has dissolved. Continue to heat until the cider reaches a boil.

Take the pan off the heat, cover it, and let sit for 10 to 15 minutes. Strain out the whole spices and serve warm, garnished with a lime or lemon slice

[fantasticait]

Tumblr can I make ricotta cheese with lime juice instead of lemon juice? Google tells me they're similarly acidic, and you see I have this scheme prepared for tomorrow I'm gonna turn on my bread machine and while it's thumping away I'm gonna use milk from a local dairy and some key lime juice to make ricotta and then later I'm gonna spread it on the toasted bread and drizzle some local orange blossom honey over it because sometimes it's depressing living in Florida (politics)...but doesn't that just sound like the most lovely Florida dinner?

[mncxbe]

Hello

Something similar to the post where Chuuya dragged Akutagawa out to a night club/bar, however Reader insists they go with them (keep an eye on Chuuyas drunk ass) and basically Chuuya walks off, leaving reader alone with Akutagawa and Chuuya ends up talking a lot with a girl that by pure coincidence looks almost exactly like reader. So she's just sat there jealous, like even the bartender starts being like "uh.. You okay, this is the 15th shot of vodka in the row—" or she just completely ignored the guy behind that just tried to grab her wirst (she ends up riding Chuuya for hours on end back at home overstimming both of them—) (maybe that reader and Akutagawa have a sibling like relationship)

Omg yes I absolutely love this idea anon and I had so much fun writing this. I also got a bit silly with it hehe. Hope you enjoy♡

°☆○

9:30♡

𝑪𝒉𝒖𝒚𝒂 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: smut♡

"What ya doing darling? Really think I'm gonna let you cum this easily after what you did tonight?" you slurred your words as you bounced up and down your boyfriend's cock, manicured nails digging deep into his shoulders.

Beneath you, Chuya let out a low groan. "Please baby just need to cum I'm sorry I'm sorry"

Your slender fingers travelled to the nape of his neck, entangling in his scarlet locks. "Well too fucking bad" you said as you swiftly tugged at his hair, ripping a moan from his parted lips.

What was supposed to be a fun night at the club with your boyfriend and best friend ended up being a complete shitshow. Within half an hour from entering the club Chuya got drunk and vanished in the crowd. A few minutes later you spotted him lounging on one of the red velvet round sofas, chatting with a woman.

"Do you fucking see that?" you asked Akutagawa, who was mindlessly gazing around the room. He's always hated clubs; with their roaring music that blasted through the speakers, sending vibrations through his entire body and the sweaty swarm of people that never ceased dancing.

"Huh, see what?"

You pointed in Chuya's direction and he followed your finger, his silvery eyes landing on your boyfriend.

"Oh damn. That's awkward" he said, squinting his eyes. "She kinda looks like you tho."

You took a moment to examine the woman; indeed, she had fairly the same built as you and the shade of her silky hair was alike yours.

"I can't believe this" you huff as you grabbed Akutagawa's arm and dragged him towards the bar. "Come on drink with me"

"Aren't you gonna talk to him about..?"

"Fuck no. If he wants to cheat I won't bother to stop him" you chimed in.

Taking a seat on one of the high chairs at the glowing bar, you ordered ten shots of tequila. The bartender raised a brow in surprise upon hearing your order but hurriedly poured the light-gold liquor in small glasses, topping them with a perfectly cut slice of lime.

He placed the ten shots between you and Akutagawa with a little smile.

"Oh thank you sir. Put them on Chuya Nakahara's tab, will you?" you cooed, flashing him a sweet smile before dividing the drinks between you and Akutagawa. "Here you go. Five and five. Cheers!"

With a grace that only comes from practice you downed the first shot, taking a bite of lemon right after. Your body shook a little.

"Wow that was strong" you laughed, urging Akutagawa to drink his shot too.

Three minutes after all the glasses were empty; your glassy gaze slid to the place where your boyfriend was, still talking to that woman. His brows were slighly furrowed, eyes half-lidded as he leaned in to whisper something to his companion. The girl chuckled lightly and pat his shoulder with an exaggerated saccharine gesture.

"Tch... Bartender! Another round please and a negroni."

Akutagawa's eyes narrowed in your direction.

"Hey I think that's enough for tonight"

"Nonsense. Just five more each and then we can stop. We're having fun!"

~

Ten tequila shots and a cocktail later your head started spinning. The flashing lights that danced around the room only made your headache worse, a feeling of nausea taking over you. Akutagawa left a few minutes ago so you were all by yourself.

Chuya was still talking to the woman and they were closer now, his hand loosely sliding up and down her tight. A wave of jealousy washed over you when the woman leaned in, placing a kiss at the corner of Chuya's mouth.

"Oh fuck this. This is enough"

You got off the chair and marched through the crowd, shoving away a man who attempted to take you to dance.

"What the hell are you doing, Chuya?" you asked in a low voice, arms crossed over your chest.

The man shook upon hearing your voice. "Huh? What?" he slurred as his gaze moved from you to the other woman.

"Wait... you're not my girlfriend" he eventually concluded, pointing at the girl next to him. A loud slap landed across his face.

"You didn't tell me you had someone asshole" she screamed in a high pitched tone before getting off the sofa and disappearing in the crowd.

Chuya held a hand to his reddened cheek, his skin hot under his touch. "Sorry baby I'm really drunk right now." he said as he got off the couch, struggling to stand straight.

"Nah you don't say" you spat, gripping his wrist as you pulled him towards the exit.

~

Half an hour later you were back home, hips grinding against his as you pushed your boyfriend closer to his high. His head was thrown back, lips slightly parted as little whimpers and lewd sounds fell off them; tufts of his red hair clinged to his damp forehead.

"Please baby I'm sorry" he moaned lowly, eyes shut tight.

"You don't fucking say." you utter between ragged breaths, riding him at a relentless pace; You felt his dick pulsate again and suddenly ceased your motion, hovering your hips just above his length. Your boyfriend let out a huff at the loss of touch; his hands gripped your hips in attempt to pull you onto him again.

"I'm so close love it's been too long. I can't anymore."

"I also waited while you talked with that woman tonight so stop bitching around."

His deep blue eyes met yours again. They were glossy and blurry, tears threatening to spill at any moment.

"I'm so sorry my love. You know I'd never cheat on you. You're my one and only and I'm so so sorry I was so drunk I didn't realize..."

You instantly lowered your hips onto his, causing him to groan.

"Please angel please." he moaned, his desperate sounds causing a knot to form inside you.

"Promise me you'll never do this again" you said between sobs of pleasure.

His expression suddenly softened and he cupped your face with his calloused hands, gently brushing his thumb over your lower lip.

"My love I'll never do this again. Never gonna make you feel like this. Please forgive me and let me make it up to you." His words were so sweet they caused you to squeeze tightly around his length.

"Mm come on baby just cum on me. Make yourself feel good." he stuttered, gripping your hips as his nimble lips trailed feathery kisses along your neck.

Slowly but surely the two of you reached your high, panting. Your head came to rest on his heaving chest; his arms snaking around your body.

"I love you Y/N. Please forgive me." he whispered softly, your name falling off his lips like a prayer.

"Of course I forgive you Chu. I love you too much to stay mad at you."

He chuckled lightly, the tips of his digits gently tracing loose cricles along the expanse of your back; goosebumps rising on your wet skin. The alcohol lulled the two of you in a deep slumber and you fell asleep entangled with one another, your heartbeats syncing as you breathed in the same slow rhythm.

[thedarkmistress16]

here's some long-awaited tony food for your thots

(im serious this is 100% PWP done in like, *check watch* 6-8 hrs or so in one sitting- it's all over the place, fam)

let me know immediately if any of you want me to community label this, if that makes you more comfortable. if you want another installment (it will have actual plot i promise) just let me know. None of the used images here are mine, they belong to their respective owners, I only own my garbage writing.

Boyfriend!Steve Rogers x Girlfriend!Experienced!Unfaithful!Reader x Jealous!Yandere!Tony Stark- Repression and Suppression

and here are some messy A03-esque tags for your reading pleasure (srsly read these before continuing or you void your reading warranty):

(Lime, Lemon, G-rape, Cheating, Physical Cheating, Unintentional Cheating, Affair, Noncon, Dubcon, Forced Orgasm, Overstimulation, Fingering, Oral, Vaginal, MxF, PWP, Love Triangle, Jealousy, Third Wheel Tony Stark, Sexual Deviant Tony Stark, Manipulation, Humiliation, Dirty Talk, Swearing, Teasing, Gaslighting, Sexual Coercion, Power Play? Beard Burn, The run of shame?, Lust used as a manipulation tool, Tony blatantly misunderstands words, The horny ruins lives, Reader’s never cheated in her life ong she just misses sex, Tony is all kinds of wrong here, OOC Tony Stark, His dialogue is probably OOC sorry about that, No descriptors besides gender have fun)

...

You don’t know how this happened.

…

Okay, you do know how this happened. You and Tony stumbled upon the same floor in an otherwise empty Tower and you both plopped on the same couch shooting the shit. No paperwork for you to do and no big baddie causing a commotion in New York for the Iron Man to stop. And you may have overshared a tad about the feelings you’ve been having at his prompting about your relationship status, but hey, that’s normal, even for sober people. Everyone needs to vent every once in a while. Or overshare, or both.

What you didn’t expect, however, was your totally innocent sex conversation with Tony to turn into dirty talk. Which, alright- fair, this was Tony you were talking to, so probably not your best moment.

“It’s not like he’ll find out.” Tony’s palm rests on your thigh. “And you said so yourself, he doesn’t give you what you need.”

But thankfully, that’s when your brain started working again, and you actively began to create some space between you, with his hand falling off your leg.

“No, Tony. You know who I’m with and you know he’ll be coming back.”

Tony follows you and- what the fuck? Was this couch always this small? The palm greets your thigh again, more insistent now if the pressure was any indication.

“Can you really wait that long?”

You stare at Tony, incredulous at the turn of events. He wouldn’t- would he?

You see him smile at you before diving in for a kiss.

Wide-eyed, your first reaction is to push him off, but he practically falls on top of you, keeping you pinned there as his tongue goes to work in prying your mouth open.

You struggle, and then, well, he knew how to kiss to get what he wanted, that was for sure. It was so different from what you were used to with him, all chaste and loving. Tony used the flat surface of the appendage to massage your tongue, and- holy fuck you really forgot what good kisses felt like. Tony feels so good- so warm and passionate, that his embrace sends you into a blanketed bliss.

And as you make out, that blanket grows more and more stuffy. You lose track of time, and- well, yourself. The next time you open your eyes, you’re greeted to a shirtless and more disheveled Tony Stark on top of you, kissing down your neck, and humping his bulge against you and- oh fuck your pants were gone.

Okay, this had officially gone too far. Yes, this was hot, and yes your body was awakened from the longest dry spell ever by his kisses, but you had to try and stop this. You had to get Tony to shut this shit down, and then blame your horny self later.

But first, Operation Turn off Tony.

“Wait!” Your hands fly to Tony’s chest, pushing with effort despite wanting to melt into a puddle. “I can’t- you know I can’t-”

Okay, your voice would’ve sounded commanding if Tony hadn’t run his hands under your shirt.

And if his arm wasn’t practically glued to the damn cushions you would've had more leeway to shake him off. And if he wasn’t so stron-

Wait- one arm?

…

…oh my god why is he pushing against you?

“Oh?” It comes out automatically and your body absolutely preens at the sensation before you come back down.

Oh fuck no- now two of his fingers are inside you and you’re not sure if you can even try to hold him off now.

Think of Steve think of Steve think of Steve think of Steve-!

“Tony, mmn-m, pl-”

“Why refuse this?” He pauses to let his fingers talk and the resulting squelching has you trying to seal your mouth in protest. “Why refuse me? When the sweet release you want is right in front of you?” His fingers fall away. “And when this-” he rolls his denim-covered penis over your pussy, eliciting a groan from both of you, “cock is ready and begging to be inside you?”

There is no hope to quell your blushing at this point either, you unhelpfully surmise to yourself. But even so, you don’t let up, forcing yourself to meet his eyes.

“He’ll, ah- find out, hah, Tony.” Fucking hell it was hard to form words now, “and he w-will-”

Tony, more envious than you’ve ever seen him, snarls in retaliation. “Don’t think about him! He’s not the one who’s going to be fucking you tonight.” He takes a moment to regain his composure before adding, “don’t worry, baby. I’ll make you feel so good you can’t stand it.”

“Ton- ah!”He hit a sensitive spot inside you, and your body jolted with the feeling. “P-please...ha...” You pant, trying to control yourself as his fingers retract. Trying to think of Steve instead, and all the other reasons why you shouldn’t be doing this. Why he shouldn’t be doing this to you and how he’s currently making you tingle in too many places.

In mock concern, he inquires, “what is it, baby? I’m right here...” You swear to the highest moon that Tony Stark’s teasing is the worst kind you’ve ever had to experience in your entire life; mainly because he does it in a way that pisses you off to no end.

“I- Tony, I n-need you to-” He shushes you, leaving you more baffled. He doesn’t even know your request yet and he’s already cutting you off. The playboy slides two fingers inside your wet canal and you cry out in surprise. They slip out within the next second, not allowing you to properly process the action. He languidly laps at his fingers and you actually whine at the sight, which is literally the worst reaction you could've had. Tony hums at the taste and his eyes, holding your own, gleam wickedly as you attempt to recover.

“Oh, you need me to fuck you baby? Say no more.”

You gasp, utterly scandalized. How the fuck did he interpret a nothing sentence into that? He’s already working on unzipping his jeans and you’re quick to remedy the situation, despite your breathlessness. “No, Tony, that’s not-” A hand swiftly comes down to palm your sensitive pussy and squeezes, attempting to shut you up with desire. You’re shameful when you realize his tactic worked, as you find it elicits a sexual groan from you strong enough to make your head tilt up towards the ceiling and your back arch off the couch. Tony tuts at your wanton display.

“Don’t deny it, honey. You’re absolutely dripping for cock.” He leans in close to your ear and latches his mouth onto your neck. The man nibbles and suckles enough to probably leave a mark before playfully biting your earlobe and whispering, “and I’m more than willing to provide that relief.” A small part of you finds it ironic he’d use the word willing when you haven’t vocally confirmed it in this case.

When he’s fully sheathed inside you, he sits still for a minute, groaning at the feel of you. Tony then starts circling his hips, not thrusting in the slightest, and at this point you’ve had enough of his games. If he wants to do this so badly then so be it. “No teasing…” you huff unpleasantly.

“Hmm? What was that?” His member is still nudging against the ridges of your vaginal walls, causing your lower body to spasm and tighten at random intervals.

“If you’re going to fuck me then actually fuck me.” You make your voice harsh to get your impatience across, keeping your gaze even. Tony simply winks and wastes no time setting a pace inside you, smirking pleasantly as your body shifts from his thrusts. He licks his lips at the sight of your breasts bouncing underneath your shirt and impatiently forces the fabric up to your neck to squeeze at one. 

You close your eyes and furrow your brows, focusing your efforts on meeting Tony’s thrusts and tightening your pelvic muscles frequently to help his orgasm along. Judging by his strained moans, the fruits of your past lovers' labor seem to be working. He starts to shudder and you beam with pride.

Jackpot.

That is until he yanks himself out of you completely, struggling to hold himself over your body.

“Mngh, hah- baby,” he laughs in between ragged breaths, “let’s not spoil the fun too early, now…”

Tony then switches to playfully dragging his cock along the splayed seam of your lips, right over your spasming hole, and you wouldn’t have been able to hold in that unholy moan if you tried.

He flips you over without a word, leaving you disoriented with an “oof,” as he re-positions you to make your ass hang lewdly in the air. Tony swats one asscheek and your hands scramble to find purchase before he tries something else, which you seldom find in the firm material. Another mocking sound escapes his throat at your reaction and you turn your head to glare at him.

“Could have given a girl a warning, y’know?”

“Well, sweetcheeks, I can’t very well tackle this raging problem unless I approach it from all possible angles~” His eyes rove over your new position admiringly. “And this view is definitely worth the effort.”

He winks at you, smirking all the while. You refuse to react, deadpanning, before giving up. “Fuck you, Stark.”

He says some other comment you don’t care about- on the lines of having patience- when something wet wiggles across your folds-

Your eyes widen. Was this a better advantage point for him to-

His tongue thrusts itself inside your walls and you lose all sense of thought, wanting to collapse into the couch already. Tony’s firm and swift in his movements, pressing the angle of his chin into your mound harshly and rubbing your sensitive areas consistently. The stiff hairs of his beard rub themselves across your clit as he leans forward and you lose all sense of yourself, screaming into the cushioned void and spasming around his mouth.

Your hips lull into a gentle rocking, you realize, when the sensations have dulled. You can still feel Tony between your legs, but licking you much more softly now. Your satisfied mews fall out of your mouth like a gentle stream, and you let yourself bask in the well-overdue afterglow.

Tony slowly parts from your pussy with a smacking sound, and you feel saliva trailing down your thighs as you whine. You hear him say the word “ready” and you hum questionably, not in the mood for words. He leans forward to kiss up your back and make a path for your ear, reiterating himself.

“You ready for me, honey?”

“Mm, you’re not-?”

“-finished? How kind of you to offer, baby. After all, I haven’t finished fucking you into forgetting him yet.”

Your brain almost fits the pieces together, already turning towards him to voice the question when you feel him line up his cock at your entrance. You don’t even bother doing anything other than bracing yourself as Tony thrusts into you, and you realize too late that you’re still too sensitive.

He’s more insistent as he fucks into you, just as his mouth, but he’s humping into all the right places despite your body singing to the point of pain.

“Ahn! O-oh!” At this point, you literally didn’t care that your face was practically being suffocated by the cushions that Tony Stark- your not-boyfriend- was pushing you into and fondling your breasts. You were about to get an orgasm on a dick you haven’t been treated to in months on top of a great orgasm, and it was quickly feeling like it was going to be one of the best ones you’ve ever had.

“Oh, fuck- yes, oh- Tony- fuck-! me!” You manage to scream out over your lack of breath, feeling his thrusts grow frantic. The determined mumbling he’s spouting over your ear becomes noise as your second orgasm crashes over you. Your ears are fuzzy but you can make out Tony proclaiming your name in ecstasy before he plops down on your back, causing your legs to fully give out.

You pant there, lying in sweat and regret, wanting to move just yet but knowing you have a lot of cleanup to do.

Tony shifts first, stroking your hair as he whispers once more, “So, was that a thorough fucking for you baby?”

Despite yourself, you laugh. Whether it was from the now spiraling guilt slowly ebbing away at your brain or that it was from the sudden feeling of loss in how to handle your new infidelity status, you didn’t know. You chalked it up to exhaustion.

Tony mumbles again, but you’re coherent enough to understand his words and nod, calmly lying there as he gets up. 

You waited until the bare ass of Tony left your line of sight before you shot up like a lightning bolt, gathering your clothes and racing toward the elevator in one fluid motion.

You impatiently return to your room to inspect Tony’s damages in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror, trying to ignore the aftersex glow you still had. Your hands trail over your naked body, taking note of the reddened marks with each twist and turn. Yep, that was definitely a hickey.

They halt on your thighs when you feel a searing pain there and your eyes grow wide, mouth hanging open with a hiss.

Oh fuck. You had beard burn. How the hell were you going to explain that to Steve? Covering them up was one thing- but the itching pain you were going to feel?

The cum inside you suddenly shifts downward and you instinctively clench to hold it in, cringing at yourself. Another man’s mess splattered on the carpet of your and your boyfriend’s room is not what you needed right now.

Biting the inside of your lip, you hurry to the connecting bathroom and wash yourself of the sexual encounter the best you can.

[valle-de-sombra-de-muerte]

Homestuck Reread: Act 3, Part 1/3 (p. 760-891)

Read the previous post here.

Time for the beginning of Act 3! An inauspicious start, since the Act begins with Jade's introduction.

So I guess the "reader" is still acknowledged as a thing. And they're actively attempting to manipulate Jade. I wonder how much longer this will last for.

Jade has so many interests, you guys! So many! And I'm sure each and every one of them will be relevant to her character as well!

Also, she needs reminders so she doesn't forget about the things she's interested in? What?

Why does Jade have so many variants of fetch modus when none of these will ever show up again? Actually, the whole modus system continues to be really dumb and that's probably why it's rarely mentioned in the later acts.

Jade's precognition again being treated as just a fun lil' quirk. Gosh, she's just so quirky, right fellas? So many modi, so many interests. She's just so silly and fun, right? Right???

Honest confession time. When I first read Homestuck, I had no idea that a "eureka lemon" was an actual variety of lemon. Of course I've heard of crab apples, key limes, and mandarin oranges, but it never occurred to me that a eureka lemon was also a real thing. I didn't figure this out until years later.

Wait wait wait. Hold the phone. Jade is a fan of old cartoons? When is that ever referenced again outside of the occasional mention of Squiddles (a show that isn't real)? What the fuck? John likes movies, has posters in his room, and name drops his favorites on a regular basis. Why does Jade not talk about any cartoons she likes???

Physics, gadgetry, and gardening are all shit that aren't ever mentioned again either, but I was at least aware of those things being related to her, at least on a surface level. Jade's whole thing (well, what I assume Hussie ostensibly intended to be her thing) is that she's this genius wiz kid. And her username is gardenGnostic, so of course horticulture has to be somehow related to her character. This whole cartoon thing is seriously new knowledge to me, though.

Grandpa Harley was a real renaissance man with a multitude of interests, so it's natural that Jade takes after him. The problem is that Grandpa is dead and he's less of a character than he is this mysterious symbol that Jade both admires and resents. It doesn't matter whether or not he's fleshed out, but Jade is a main character, so by necessity she must be or else she comes across as half-baked.

Jade has two pages dedicated to her interests, yet none of them are relevant to her character. She never talks to anyone else about gardening or anthros or anything like that. She doesn't use her scientific knowledge to help solve a problem. Her guns only serve the same basic combat purpose as the other kids' kind abstratus, but beyond that she isn't a gun nut.

One can point to stuff like John's interest in programming or Dave's love of photography as examples of extraneous character traits that don't ever manifest later on in the comic. But in Jade's case, it's nearly all of them. Hussie could've filled these pages with anything he wanted, but nothing would alter the existing perception of Jade being nothing more than "silly, upbeat girl who can see into the future." This is what I meant when I said earlier that she doesn't have any character to speak of. Or rather, she's just extremely shallow.

And because Jade doesn't have enough quirks already, her shirt randomly changes designs. Wow! Incredible!

These "manthro chaps" are honestly more unnerving and sexually charged than the smuppets. I don't ever see anyone reference them nearly as often, and probably for good reason. Unlike the smuppets, they're too close to resembling humans and are very uncanny. This feels like a deranged fetish thing, but it's being played off as more silly, quirky bullshit. "Slop trough" is a phrase I never want to read again.

Right. Hating furries was very much en vogue back in 2009, I'd say more so than the present. However, Hussie is going to great lengths to portray Jade as one of the "good ones." Her interest in anthros is non-sexual in nature and she does not partake in "cringe" furry activities like wearing fursuits and engaging in sexual activities with other furries. As stated before, the manthro chaps are being depicted as wholesome make believe, not in a feral/pet play context (despite the fact that that's exactly what it looks like).

This is just Hussie taking pot shots at a subculture that has historically been a very easy target for ridicule. I'm not even sure why he decided to make Jade a furry in the first place if he was going to draw lines in the sand like this. What an incredible dickhead. And since this is written from Jade's perspective, it makes her a dickhead too.

There are a few times later on where Jade comes across as rude or judgmental, coming at odds with her otherwise unflinchingly polite and optimistic disposition. Needless to say, this does little to endear her to me.

Like John, Jade also has a chest full of shit that doesn't end up mattering. Come to think of it, this whole intro sequence feels extremely drawn out, kind of like John's. John at least had the excuse of being the first character and he required a long intro in order to establish the tone and mechanics. We've gotten a good handle on things by the time we reach Rose and Dave, so their intros weren't nearly as involved. So why the fuck is Jade's taking so long? We know this whole routine, we've done it three times now. Can we get the fuck on with the story already!?

This is a really bizarre sequence of pages where the "reader" is forced to match the memory cards of Jade's modus, only to fail at it repeatedly while both Jade and Hussie judge them for it.

Man... I know it's a common fandom notion that Jade is the most neglected and underutilized of the main cast of kids, but you seriously wouldn't have guessed that based on all these early pages. She feels more like Hussie's favorite, if anything.

Every passage he seems to talk about her with affection and a total absence of snark, not like the other kids who are regarded with bemusement at best or mockery at worst when they do something foolish. Here the derision is solely focused on the reader for their apparent cluelessness, and both Hussie and Jade are on the same side. C'mon, Jade's just offering the reader to play this game and they fail because they're obviously not as smart as she is. Serves them right for that earlier, boorish suggestion that this wonderful girl might be a, gasp, disgusting fursuit-wearing degenerate!

There's something a little off about how this then-30 year old man created this 13 year old girl who's so sweet and perfect in every way, and whom he dedicates so many pages showing us every single one of her quirks and all the amazing things she has in her home. But I don't really want to dwell further on this, so I'll be moving on.

"But he does like his steak well cooked."

"He does prefer his steak rare after all."

Well, which is it??? Does he like his steak well or rare? Does Hussie not know the difference between these terms? Has he never cooked a steak before?

Dave Strider? More like Dave Simper. He is incredibly down bad. She's obviously not online, dude. Get out of her DMs. He's also facetiously engaging her with furry roleplay. God, Dave, get a clue! ERP is something only cringy furries do and as established previously, Jade is most definitely not one of those types of furries!

The Midnight Crew get their own dedicated flash. These guys sure are getting teased a lot, despite just being characters from an in-universe webcomic. I wonder what it could mean...

FINALLY we get to the Strider fight. Well, it's more like Dave vs. Cal rather than Dave vs. Bro. Not to try and crack open more Bro discourse, but the idea that people will try to equate Dave getting clowned on by a puppet with actual child abuse is absurd. I don't see how this is any different than the previous strifes John and Rose had with their parents.

FUCK it was only for one page. We're back to Jade again. You know, if I had a friend who knew whenever I was about to have an internet outage and acted all smarmy about it, I would probably stop talking to them.

"Grandpa Moreau over there on Hellmurder Island" is a good line. Thank you Rose for providing some levity to this slog of pages I've been enduring.

Another GameFAQs page, but this section is written by John for some reason. He brings up a great point about how nobody is reading these damn things. If you're some nudnik who truly gives a shit about how punch card alchemy works, oh boy do I have a page for you!

Jade dislikes hunting and it was mentioned earlier that she'd never shoot an animal. It strikes me as odd that she has such a passion for guns, but not hunting. What does she shoot then? She's a "skilled markswoman" but do we ever see a shooting range or anything to practice her skills? I can't imagine there's much else to shoot on this island aside from wildlife.

Grandpa Harley says Jade will grow up to be like the women in the photos he gets off to. I uh... I don't know how to feel about that. Other than perhaps it's for the best this old man is dead.

Wow! Who's this rude customer? What a crazy guy! Oh well, he was blocked so I don't think we'll ever see him again.

Finally at this point we take an extended reprieve from Jade. For the record, we're 99 pages into the Act. It took Rose 25 pages from her intro before the plot returned to John, and Dave 48 pages from his before turning back to Rose. (I'm not counting brief cuts to other characters for these counts, because the main focus is still on the recently introduced character). Nearly 100 pages of Jade showing off her house before going back to the plot. Augh!

Anyway, Rose actually reaches out and grabs the captcha card, which isn't something we've seen up to this point. This whole inventory system is weird, man.

I think it's all but directly stated that Mom Lalonde became an alcoholic because she has known the exact date the world was going to end. A sad detail.

Part 2 of the Strider fight ends with Bro yeeting Dave down the stairs. Again, I can't see this scene as serious representation of legitimate child abuse, especially with the fucking SBaHJ jokes at the end. The tone is so comedic and outrageous I don't understand anyone who takes it seriously.

Honestly, the earlier scenes with Dave roaming the apartment, being surrounded by weapons and sex toys, making comments of how he has difficulty accessing food, and being videotaped for Bro's fetish films paint a much better image of an abusive household than any of this strife shit. I don't want to try and argue that Bro isn't a bad guardian, because he definitely is, but there's this notion in the fandom that he does all this because he hates Dave and wants him to suffer, and I don't think that's true at all. His actions read more like neglect and carelessness, not malice.

You can make a list of all Bro's crimes, but hating his brother is not one of them.

John wins his fight against the ogres. There's an earlier page where we see him getting the tar kicked out of him (with the same over the top slapstick animations during the Dave vs. Bro fight, mind you), but it's only after Nannasprite and Rose join to help that he's able to achieve victory. He really can't do anything on his own, can he?

How about a "thank you, Rose, for beating those ogres for me"? Dickhead.

No "thank you" for Nannasprite, either. Instead he asks her to carry him to the gate, since he already knows Rose can't do it. This kid really sucks.

Now that I'm a third of the way done with Act 3, I have to say Jade is some honest to god Mary Sue shit. I don't like using that term because it's been misused to the point of uselessness, but come on. Compare Jade to the three previous kids and tell me that this girl isn't the most ridiculous character in this lineup.

We have John, the goofy cornball that likes pranks and watching bad movies; Rose, the smug pseud that likes the occult and writing lousy fiction; Dave, the aloof hipster that likes rapping and making shitty comics; and Jade, the genius manic pixie furry girl with a randomly changing wardrobe that can see into the future, lives on a private island full of crazy hi-tech gadgets, was raised by a radioactive dog, and likes physics, gardening, sharpshooting, bass guitar, and inventing.

Fuck me. If I was DM for a DnD session and someone submitted a character sheet like that against three normal ones, I'd tell them to leave. Why can't she just be a normal kid like the others? It's all so jarring!

Suddenly I'm wishing I was back reading Act 1 again.

Read the next post here.

[teal-sharky]

All this generic alt-history fiction is F-15s this, gunpowder that.

If I had the time machine and time to prep a know how packet, I'd go to ~1200AD and grow a mercenary-merchant fleet of catamaran hulled ships.

The cornerstone of my fleet would be super-ship-biscuit with mixed in coffee (kills the weevils, keeps the sailors sharp), fortified with vitamin C (lemons, not limes) and nicotine (keeps the men sharp and under my control - leaving the ranks means withdrawal). There would be forbidden red biscuit (added cocaine) and blue biscuit (added heroine) for when things get extra rough.

I'd grow penicillin to demonstratively protect my crews from plagues even god cannot or will not stop as a stopgap while running extremely aggressive vaccination research (It'd go so much faster with liberal usage of orphans for experiments/culture growth; you could get so many fucking orphans back then, they were just free)

All the ranks would be taught Marxism and a prophecy of the wold ending demon that will be unleashed after the gods are forgotten and kings are killed if money still is a focus then.

Build a network of merchant hubs that'll earn sustenance mostly through external trade and fishing, with avoidance of grabs of land if it involved any displacement of locals. While external trade is commercial, internally they should rely on money as little as possible.

The most important milestone is to stall industrial revolution, maintaining a dogma of how bituminous coal (now called Demon Bone) and oil (Demon Blood) are to never to be burned outside of very specific, ritualistic and relatively rare circumstances (metal foundries and chemical extraction) as their use as mere fuel would turn the earth into a actual literal hell (the least gaslighty thing I have to do, tbh).

Grow laterally as much as possible as your local friendly coven of weirdos, emphasize just uprooting the hubs and fleeing if the locals get aggressive.

If things go well, reward myself every now and then by giving whichever ripe local peasantry the thoughts (marxism) and tools (dynamite) to behead their local monarchs.

I don't doubt there's a million things this could turn awry and create a world even worse than ours but hey, you're free to be a fucking coward, I would still give it a shot.

[lolly-dolli]

Here's what you're gonna do.

You're gonna go down to your local Aldi's, buy a 24oz bag of frozen mango chunks, a bag of rice, and two cans of black beans.

If you don't already have them; salt, lime or lemon juice and cumin; maybe some meal prep tupperware. Pouch tuna if you like that stuff.

Once home, put that bag of mango chunks in a bowl full of warm water so they defrost. Don't pen it. The bag needs to stay closed. This'll make sense later.

Prepare enough water in a pot to cook two cups of that rice. Make sure the pot's big. Big enough to hold way more rice than you expect there to be. Add a teaspoon of cumin, two tablespoons lime or lemon juice, salt according to preference. Pat of butter.

Boil. Make sure the butler's melted. Stir to combine.

Add your rice. Cook according to rice bag.

If you have a protein, you can cook that now. 20-30 minutes at your disposal. If not, that's why we got the second can of beans for.

I recommend Aldi's tuna steaks - quick to defrost, 5 bucks for 2-3. Lean protein. Real nice. Creme de la crumb's tuna marinade also works real nice if you have the energy.

A pouch of tuna's just as good functionally.

Less mercury that way.

You can mix it in that if you want, too.

Strain your beans. Conserve a little bean water for the rice if you want.

Your rice is done.

Add your beans. Twice as many if you're feeling like it'll be a bad week. Two or three pouch tunas too if you want a little extra.

If you have the lemon pepper kind you can probably nix the citrus juice.

Now we go back to your mango. If all's worked correctly, the warm water should've thawed them somewhat, the heat warming the air in the bag.

Dump 'em in, turn the burner to low heat. Stir until well combined.

Portion out into Tupperware.

You've got a good couple meals right there. Even more as side dishes if you have the energy to cook chicken nuggets or fish or veggies or whatever.

Lunch. Breakfast. Dinner.

Carbs to keep you awake and moving.

Protein to fuel your muscles.

Bit of fiber to push it all through your guts easier.

Citric acid to avoid the scurvy.

Can be eaten hot or cold, and the shit's good, too.

You're gonna have something tasty to eat whether you can operate a microwave or not this week.

That's what you're gonna do.

[invisiblequeen]

For @theosconfessions Love Is Embarrassing BC: Parker Wiles!

Age: 25

Sexuality: Straight

Hometown:

Occupation: Latte Artiste At The Coffee House

Traits: Bookworm, Humble, Worldly, Good

Aspiration: Neighborhood Confidante

Skills:

Cleaning - 5

Fitness - 3

Charisma - 8

Handiness - 7

Cooking - 5

Research & Debate - 8

Rock Climbing - 5

Mixology - 8

At first glance, you'd think Parker has always been a laid back normal guy. But just a decade ago, he was wearing sweater vests and complaining about limes over lemons in his iced water.

Parker grew up with in a privileged home to some privileged parents who took all of their privilege and did some white collar crime with it. What that crime was, he couldn't tell you. They never said anything other than, "We do what he have to for you, honey." He was raised to be the charming, patronizing preppy boy, only going to the finest of schools with the best of the best. Classmates who were there with him say he was never actively a bully, just friends with some. Turning a blind eye to their misbehavior, he'd be the one trying to charm the girls during lunch, lazily chewing on a toothpick, brushing off the red flags.

All was fine and dandy until Senior Year. The bullies he had absentmindedly befriended started going too far. Just once. With a freshman in the hallway. It was the one time he found himself unable to turn a blind eye. In a rare display of courage, Parker Wiles stood up, got in between them, and said simply, "Enough." Unfortunately, fitness was never his strong suit, so of course, the very people he thought were friends turned on him instead.

But that's not what truly changed him. Instead of showing compassion for his plight, his parents were more confused as to why he'd risk his own skin for "some random kid."

This caused such a rift between himself and his family that he could never look at anything--his family, his friends, his clothes, his hometown--in the same way again. So as soon as he graduated, he took his ass out of that house and never looked back.

Having saved up an entire childhood's worth of allowance in cash, Parker had enough to cover rent for at least a year while he figured out what to do. Five years later, he works as a well-liked Latte Artist in San Myshuno (and he just might make it to management!) With the help of his neighbors, who are all ten times friendlier than anyone he knew back home, Parker has adjusted to a life he was taught to hate. He rejects the high-priced, sterile lifestyle for the vibrance and warmth of what he now knows is "community." He has been unlearning toxic tendencies and embracing new ones, with the hope that somewhere down the line, he'll have a family of his own, and do everything differently.

No. BETTER.

what do you think @theosconfessions????

[scotianostra]

On May 20th 1747 James Lind began a controlled experiment which demonstrated that citrus fruits could prevent scurvy

Lind was born in Edinburgh in 1716, in 1731 he registered as an apprentice at the College of Surgeons in Edinburgh and in 1739 became a surgeon’s mate, seeing service in the Mediterranean, Guinea and the West Indies, as well as the English Channel.

While serving as surgeon on HMS Salisbury, on this day in 1747 Lind carried out experiments to discover the cause of scurvy, the symptoms of which included loose teeth, bleeding gums and hemorrhages.

Lind selected 12 men from the ship, all suffering from scurvy, and divided them into six pairs, giving each group different additions to their basic diet. Some were given cider, others seawater, others a mixture of garlic, mustard and horseradish. Another group of two were given spoonful's of vinegar, and the last two oranges and lemons. Those fed citrus fruits experienced a remarkable recovery. While there was nothing new about his discovery - the benefits of lime juice had been known for centuries - Lind had definitively established the superiority of citrus fruits above all other ‘remedies’.

In 1748, Lind retired from the navy and went to Edinburgh University to take professional qualifications. In 1753, he published 'A Treatise of the Scurvy’ and in 1757 'An Essay on the Most Effectual Means of Preserving the Health of Seamen in the Royal Navy’, which threw much light on the appalling living conditions and diet of seamen. In 1758, he was appointed physician to the Naval Hospital at Haslar in Gosport where he investigated the distillation of fresh water from salt water for supply to ships.

In 1763, Lind published work on typhus fever in ships and in the 1768 publication 'An Essay on Diseases Incidental to Europeans in Hot Climates’ he summarised the prevalent diseases in each colony and gave advice on avoiding tropical infections.

Lind died in 1794 in Gosport.

Although the importance of Lind’s findings on scurvy were recognised at the time, it was not until more than 40 years later that an official Admiralty order was issued on the supply of lemon juice to ships. With this, scurvy disappeared almost completely from the Royal Navy. To me this showed the indifference that the navy placed on the wellbeing of their charges.