#sir you do not need to keep screaming at me to go get a summer job

[plentyoffandoms]

Gator Tillman x f/Reader (18+)

Main Masterlist ♡ Miscellaneous TV Shows Masterlist

Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.

Warnings: Some swearing. Oral (m receiving) unprotected sex. car sex.

Gifs & Photos do not belong to me. 1st gif @djoswiftie

Summary: Gator & f/Reader have never gotten along, even though they both like one another. Reader's car breaks down, & Gator's father forces him to drive her around until it is fixed. Once it is, she thanks Gator in her own way.

GATOR TILLMAN'S POV

"Well, well, well. If it isn't my favourite Deputy." Came the sarcastic voice of known other than YN LN. All I could do was sigh when I heard her walk closer to me. I was standing in line, waiting to grab some lunch.

"Or should I say my favourite Daddy's boy." This part came in whisper close to my ear.

"Oh fuck off." I seethe through my teeth as I turned around to look at her. She just held up her hands and took a step back.

"Now Gator, no need for such profanity. We are adults now."

I turned back around as the small line was moving.

YN has been nothing but a thorne in my side ever since she moved here at the beginning of freshman year of high school. For some reason, she had it out for me, but she never showed this side to anyone else.

Everyone thought she was this sweet, kind woman. She went to my father's church every Sunday, wearing the prettiest of dresses. She volunteers with the elderly and spends her summer breaks from teaching, tutoring the children so none of them have to repeat their grade.

But I know how she truly is.

She is just a fucking bitch who will one day realise that she can fuck right off.

I stepped to the side when I was placed my order and to my suprise, when she stepped up her order was already to go.

She saw me looking at her, my mouth slightly opened. She giggled and placed her hand under my chin and gently closed my mouth. "Call ahead next time, Gator." I felt myself twitch in my pants when she said my name.

Oh yeah, I also have a massive crush on her. She may hate me, but I want nothing more than for her to scream my name as fuck her.

◆

It was Sunday, and I was in my father's church listening to him preach. I tried to keep my mind from wandering, but she was sitting in the same pew as me.

Her gaze fixated on my father, her legs crossed and her hands in her lap as she too listened. Her dress was hiked up just enough for me to get a sneak peak at her bare thighs.

The services ended, and I stood up, as did she. "Gator, I need you to drive Miss LN home. Her car broke down as she was coming here." My father said.

"Oh, Sir, thank you, but I will be just fine walking home." She stopped talking when my father held up his hand.

"Now, you live a bit too far to be walking. It won't trouble for Gator to be taking you home and driving you around until your car starts working again. Isn't that right, Gator?"

I wanted to protest and say she could find someone else to drive her around, but I didn't. "Of course, it is no trouble for me. Come, let's get you home."

The moment I slammed the drivers side door of my car, I drove as fast as I could to get away from the church.

She went to touch the radio but I slapped her hand away. "Don't touch my shit."

"Seriously, Gator? Come on."

"I bet your car is working just fine. You did this just to spit me." I said to her.

"You will see my car, broken down. Everything is closed as it is a Sunday, so it won't get picked up until tomorrow. You really think highly of yourself if you think I revolve my life around you, Tillman."

◆

We were silent, and just as she said, I saw her car on the side of the road. I didn't apologise for being rude to her. We pulled up in front of her small home, and before I could speak, she opened the car door and got out.

She leaned down, and I could see right down her dress. She cleared her throat, and I looked into her eyes. "Like what you see, Gator?" She bit her lip, and I dumbly nodded my head, yes.

"Of course you do, I bet you jerk off to me every single night, moaning my name as you cum all over your chest, wishing for me to lick it up."

Is she really saying this to me right now?

"Why don't you come in Gator, Gator, Gator, are you even listening to me, you perv?"

"What?" I shook my head, trying to get what dream YN said out of my head.

"I don't need you to pick me up tomorrow."

"Oh no, then you tell my Dad I didn't pick you up. Nice try, YN." She rolled her eyes at me.

"Stop trying to please your dad, Daddy's boy. Maybe you may get laid then." She slammed the car door before I could think of a comeback.

◆

We were silent, and just as she said, I saw her car on the side of the road. I didn't apologise for being rude to her. We pulled up in front of her small home, and before I could speak, she opened the car door and got out.

She leaned down, and I could see right down her dress. She cleared her throat, and I looked into her eyes. "Like what you see, Gator?" She bit her lip, and I dumbly nodded my head, yes.

"Of course you do, I bet you jerk off to me every single night, moaning my name as you cum all over your chest, wishing for me to lick it up."

Is she really saying this to me right now?

"Why don't you come in Gator, Gator, Gator, are you even listening to me, you perv?"

"What?" I shook my head, trying to get what dream YN said out of my head.

"I don't need you to pick me up tomorrow."

"Oh no, then you tell my Dad I didn't pick you up. Nice try, YN." She rolled her eyes at me.

"Stop trying to please your dad, Daddy's boy. Maybe you may get laid then." She slammed the car door before I could think of a comeback.

◆

I was sitting in my squad car, outside her house. I didn't see her come up to the drivers side door. She made me jump as she knocked on the window. I got out of the car to open the door for her.

"I told you I didn't need you to pick me up. I have Brian picking me up." A flash of jealousy coarsed through my body.

"Who the fuck is Brian?"

"Brian McKee. We teach at the middle school, together. You went to school with him."

"You knew you had a ride. Call him saying he doesn't need to come."

"I will not, Gator. I will not be seen being dropped off in a police car."

"So if I showed in my car, you would let me drop you off?"

"I don't know, maybe." Brian pulled up right behind me, and he waved at me. I just stared him down.

"Look, pick me after your day is done, in your car. You know how kids are. They may think I got arrested, and you need to slap handcuffs on me."

It was not the first time I had ever thought her in handcuffs, but I coughed to hide the moan from slipping from my mouth.

"Fine."

I watched as she ran towards Brian's car, and I had to fight not to rush after them and pull him over for a "broken taillight."

◆

I picked her up every day in my car, from home and work. I made sure that I was there on time and that she got into her safely.

It is Sunday once more, and I am just about to turn off the car and get out.

"My car will be ready tomorrow." She suddenly said.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Well, let's make today memorial, huh?" I don't know why I said that, but she just smiled and nodded.

The two of us went into the church, her once again in the same pew as me, but sitting right next to me.

"I have a gift for you in the car." She said before my Dad came out. I don't remember her bringing a gift.

I was about to voice that thought as well, but she shushed as my Dad took his spot at the front of the church.

My mind kept wondering what the hell she got me and why she didn't give it to me when she got into the car.

◆

The two of us were in the back seat of my car, my hands tangled in her hair as she moved her mouth up and down my cock.

I could see myself in the rear view mirror. My hair is a mess, and my mouth is hanging open. My eyes were half closed, her name falling from my lips now.

When she asked me to drive us somewhere secluded, I wasn't expecting this. I actually thought she was going to strip me and leave me out in the wild, but no. Once parked, she got in the backseat, spread her legs, and I was instantly hard when I saw she was wearing no panties and she was soaked.

I had to slap myself to see if this was a dream, but even she leaned forward and grabbed my hand, took two fingers into her mouth, and started to suck, I knew this was real and not just some daydream.

She moaned around my cock, making me accidentally thrust up into her mouth, and she gagged around my cock, making me groan out her name.

She pulled her mouth off of my cock, but kept her hands there, quickly jerking my cock. "No, stop, please." She slowed her movements and the sound of pleas.

"What's wrong, Gator?" She got close to my face. "Afraid of coming so soon?" I knew she was mocking me, but I whimpered out a soft yes.

"Don't worry, baby, I will take care of you. No lean back." I did as she asked.

She got between my legs and leaned forward to rest her arms on the front seat.

I held up the bottom of her dress and watched as she sunk down on my cock. Not believing that this was actually happening.

"Fuck Gator. You're so deep." She was grinding her hips back and forth. I couldn't even respond to her, afraid if I did I would cum before this even really started.

She leaned back against my chest, her arm above my head, gripping the backseat headrest and started to grind and bounce apon my cock.

She was moaning my name as she used my cock for her pleasure. "Gator baby, need you."

"What?" I was lost, but let her grab my hand, and place it against her clit. It finally clicked in. I started to rub her clit, making her already tight pussy, get even tighter around my cock.

"You going to cum all over my cock?" I asked her as I nipped her earlobe.

"Yes, Gator, so close."

"Who is making you feel good?"

"Gator. You, Gator. Only you."

That did it for me. I kept rubbing her clit as I came inside of her, moaning her name loudly.

"Yes, yes, yes, Gator. Don't stop. Almost there. Gator, Gator.... GATOR."

My name came out in a scream as she came. Her pussy fluttering around my cock, making me groan into her hair.

She didn't move, and neither did I, until she finally moved off of me. The both of us are fixing ourselves to look presentable.

I drove us to her place, the windows rolled down, airing out the car so it didn't smell like sex.

"What the hell was that?" I finally asked as I pulled up in front of her place

"That was your thank you gift for driving me around all week."

"Well shit, I'll keep driving you around if you thank me like that."

"Take me on a date first, Gator, and we will see."

"Want to go on a date?" I asked her.

"Really, Gator? Put some effort into it." She rolled her eyes and got out of the car. I watched as she got into her house, okay.

I finally pulled away from the curb, smirking to myself.

'Yeah, I am a fucking winner.'

#reader imagine #female reader #reader insert #fargo imagine #fargo fic #fargo fanfic #fargo fx #fargo season 5 #fargo smut #gator tillman imagine #gator tillman smut #gator tillman fanfiction #gator tillman fic #gator tillman x reader #gator tillman x y/n #gator x female reader #gator tillman x f/Reader #gator tillman #joe keery characters #joe keery

[jjkamochoso]

The Perfect Fit

Story Overview: Levi Ackerman begrudgingly finds himself falling in love with the Survey Corps’ seamstress. Will they be able to own up to their feelings for each other? Or is their love doomed to fail before they discover the truths of each other’s hearts? This slow burn reader insert story will be filled with angst, yearning, and a bit of mystery as we slowly unravel the truths behind Y/N’s past… and explore her and Levi’s future!

Chapter 1

Chapter 2 linked here

Levi Ackerman x female reader

Warnings: cussing

You grunted, lifting the last box into the cart and feeling relief that your sore arms could take a break for the short ride over to the Scout Regiment. You slipped your foot into the saddle of the horse, brought your other leg up and over, and started on your journey. You wanted to enjoy the feeling of wind in your hair and sunshine on your face this fine summer day, but frankly, you were too exhausted to give a damn. Your fingers were numb, your wrists cramped, your eyes dry. You were up all night mending the Survey Corps uniforms. As the resident seamstress, tailor, and only person skilled enough at embroidery, you were always busy, but no time were you more overwhelmed with work than after the group comes back from an expedition. Most, if not all, soldiers’ uniforms had holes of every size that needed to be patched. Pants, jackets, capes—each had to be in working order and acceptable in appearance as fast as possible. There was never enough money allotted to the Scouts to buy new uniforms as often as they should and sometimes you were even left working with clothes of the deceased to clean and repurpose for their living comrades. The whole situation was messed up, sure, but with severe lack of resources, especially with Titans taking up the valuable real estate needed to cultivate more, you understood that you had to make do. And so, you did. Just because something is a necessity doesn’t make it any easier to work with, though. You took to your face a handkerchief to dab away the accumulated sweat as your horse neighed and the cart slowly came to a halt in front of barracks. You were afraid that when you dismounted, your legs would give out in exhaustion, but you mentally slapped yourself. There was no way you would show an ounce of weakness in front of the people who give their lives just to keep you safe. Before you could give it any more thought, a voice called out to you.

“Y/n! Welcome! I trust everything is here?”

Commander Erwin walked toward you, halting his conversation with a shorter man who looked displeased at the interruption, but nevertheless made his way to you as well.

“Hello, Commander. Yes, all of the Scouts’ uniforms are in here, mended and ready to wear.” You slid off your horse and thankfully didn’t fall over. “Where should I unload the boxes?”

“Captain Levi will show you where they go. If you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting to get to.”

Your eyes went wide when you realized who the man in front of you was.

“Captain Levi,” you said, a smile gracing your face, “it’s an honor to finally meet you, sir. I rarely receive your articles of clothing to fix. You must truly be as good as they say if you can avoid snagging your cape in the tree branches.”

Levi had an unreadable look on his face as he let out a “tch.” You were about to say something else when Hange came running over.

“Y/n!” They screamed in excitement, dragging out the last syllable of your name. You were greeted with a big hug from your friend and you felt the tiredness slip away from your body for a brief moment.

“Hange! I haven’t see you in forever! I made sure to stitch up your shirt extra well and took great care to make sure it was straight as can be.”

“Aww, I am your favorite-”

“Isn’t that your job?” Levi interjected, looking annoyed as ever.

You were confused by what he meant. “I’m sorry?”

“Your job. Isn’t it your job to make sure the stitches are straight? Why are you bragging about doing your job the way it’s supposed to be done?”

You felt your face warm in embarrassment. You weren’t expecting to make a fool out of yourself, especially in front of someone as important as the captain, yet here you were. You should’ve heeded everyone’s advice to avoid talking to him or near him at all costs. Hange punched him in the arm, presumably for being so rude around their friend, but you answered him before a fight ensued.

“I don’t have a sewing machine,” you muttered.

Levi raised his hand to his ear, signaling you to speak up. You took a deep breath, frustrated at his attitude.

“I said, I don’t have a sewing machine. I mend everybody’s clothes by hand, by myself, with a turn around time of basically nothing.” You felt yourself getting heated and you knew it was because you were tired, but you kept going. “I fix undergarments, shirts, pants, jackets, and capes for 150 people at a time. I scrub blood from the dead’s clothes until my own fingers bleed because we don’t have enough material for me not to. I’m sorry my standards aren’t high enough for you, Captain, but sometimes I can only work extra hard on one person’s uniform. If I took the time to be that precise with everyone’s, your cadets would be fighting the titans just as naked as they are.” You felt your eyes start to water but you were determined to keep your cool. “Now, please show me where these boxes go. I have lots of work that needs to be done.”

No more words were exchanged as you, Levi, and Hange moved the boxes to an empty room inside barracks. When the work was done and Hange bid you farewell, it was just you and the moody captain alone again. Your horse could sense the tension between you two, stamping the ground in light distress, and you both reached out to soothe the animal. Well, him being an animal lover makes you like him the tiniest bit more. Alas, you knew you had to make verbal amends or else you’d risk getting reprimanded by whatever higher ups caught wind of the situation that you weren’t giving 110% on your work (that inevitably gets ruined the next time the cadets get too rough during training, but you digress).

“Look, Captain, I sincerely apologize for my behavior. I know I technically don’t work under you but you’re still an officer and deserve respect. Just know that I am trying my best to work under these rough conditions, as are you and your team. I hope I didn’t offend you or undermine the importance of your team’s uniforms.” You lowered your head in a slight bow to show your remorse.

“Raise your head, dumbass. It’s fine,” he said, monotone as usual, and he walked away. When he was out of earshot, you groaned. You were lucky that you and Erwin were close or else you figured you’d be fired immediately for your lack of tact toward a superior. Mounting your horse once more, you rode back to your workshop for some much needed rest. With your horse squared away in its stable, you locked your front door behind you and took off your shoes, feeling your pain creep up. You went upstairs to your living area and sleep overtook you as soon as your head hit your pillow.

The next morning, you awoke to a soft knock at your door. It was much too early for any tailoring appointments you had, so after you yawned, you called out, “just a minute!” to let the person know you were on the way. However, when you opened the door, you weren’t greeted with a human, but a sewing machine! You stood in shock for a few moments before sweeping it into your arms, cradling it like a baby. As much as you never wanted to let go of the machine, you put it on your work table to read the note that was attached.

“ALL my soldiers deserve to be fitted with the best uniforms from the best seamstress. Also, go to the damn medic. Your fingers are fucking disgusting.”

If it weren’t for the note, you would’ve thought Hange got you the gift, but no—it must have been Levi! You couldn’t help but giggle at what he wrote as you looked down at your hands. He was right, of course. Your fingers had blisters all over them from sewing too much. He must’ve noticed them when you were moving boxes, or maybe when you touched your horse? Either way, he has a hell of an eye for detail because you were never all that close to him yesterday. Rereading the note, you felt your heart skip a beat. He definitely cared deeply about people, much more than he let on, which was apparent in the way he sourced a literal sewing machine for you in under 24 hours, a feat that few could pull off in these times. But he was just being a concerned captain, that’s all. There was nothing more to his actions, no hidden feelings or anything cheesy like that.

Right?

Chapter 2

#levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x female reader #levi ackerman x reader fluff #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader angst #levi fluff #levi angst

[sangheilihoes]

I'm Sorry

Warnings: Rape, yandere!Haytham, obsession at first sight. Dead Dove. Do Not Eat.

❣️ @wyyvernn @ladysaturnsdust @psybrepunk @bloodhaven99 @heiress-prime @haytham-loves-chocolate @konnisart @bookworm-with-coffee @demigoddessqueens @memoriesofafallen ❣️

A/N: This one is dark guys so please heed the warning. Also I plan on having another ending to this, a sweeter one.

When you met him, he was charming, charismatic and handsome but for whatever reason, you felt creeped out. There were no red flags that you had noticed, it was more his aura, like he was dangerous and it made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. He obviously was in a place of power, his attitude, how he dressed, the men around him and how they listened intently to whatever he was talking about, you may have even heard one of them refer to him as “Grandmaster”. What you failed to notice was his glances toward you and how he held his mug just a little bit tighter, his knuckles going white. You also failed to notice him following you out of the pub, keeping his distance while following you.

He contemplated not going through with his dark thoughts, dragging you into a secluded spot, ripping your clothes off, sliding his c-

He shook his head, trying desperately to rid himself of his depraved thoughts but he kept trailing behind you, now speeding up.

“Excuse me, miss?” A voice calls out to you, startled, you turned around to see the man from the pub again. “Yes, can I help you?” you ask, wary of him automatically, your hairs standing up again, this isn't right you think to yourself.

“I apologize for scaring you, it was not my intention.” He extends his hand out to you with a smile “The names Haytham Kenway.” You hesitantly put your hand out to shake his, he takes it, bringing it up to his face, giving the top a chaste kiss, you yank away, wrapping your arms around your torso, almost as if your trying to protect yourself.

“Y/N. What do you want?”

“I simply was going to escort you back to your place, if you wish, I witnessed some of the other men in the pub staring and I didn’t want any of them to follow you.” Haytham lies, he was the one staring and he’s the only one following you

“I appreciate the concern but I’m almost home, just another block or two away.”

“Please, I insist!”

“No!” You flatly tell him, turning around to walk away, quickly.

You didn’t get 5 steps away before you felt a hand go over your mouth, Haytham’s other hand grabbing your wrists with alarming strength, preventing you from fighting or screaming.

“You could have made this easier on yourself but no, you just needed to have an attitude toward someone who was just trying to help. But if you don’t struggle much, I’ll be nice and won’t hurt you, too much.”

You felt your feet lift off the ground as he picked you up, taking you away further away from your home, from safety.

“I will say, I like a feisty woman, makes me want you that much more.” You felt your heart sink, he wasn’t thinking of raping you, was he? You thought as the panic rose even more.

It suddenly got dark, too dark as Haytham stepped into an alleyway, the lights illuminating the summer night becoming more faded as he turned a corner to a dead end where two barrels sat.

“I am going to let you go, if you try to fight, I won’t hesitate to hurt you, darling but if you cooperate, I’ll be done and let you go, do we have a deal?” You nodded frantically

He released you from his grasp and you went for the barrels, trying to keep distance from Haytham. Even in the dark, you could see his once gray-blue eyes going dark as he looked you up and down.

“I want you to strip, and I’m not asking.”

“Haytham, Sir, please, I’m begging you, please please please don’t do this pl-”

“I. Said. Strip. Now!” He interrupted you, closing the space between you both a little bit

“No! I don’t want to, please.” The tears started flowing down your face

“Fine. Then I will.” He closed the space completely, pinning you against the barrels. His hand came up, a blade unsheathing from the wrist.

Taking your clothing in his other hand, the blade went through the fabric effortlessly, the cool air hitting your bare skin.

“Y/N, please, don’t cry, all I want is to feel you for a few minutes. You brought this upon yourself after all, the way you were dressed… tantalized me.”

Forcing you to sit on the barrel, he then cut your panties off and gripped your knees, spreading your legs open, your pussy exposed to him

“My god, you look delicious.” He dipped his head down, his tongue licking you making you jolt in your place. “Tasty..” He voice lowly whispers.

He started rustling with his breeches, his cock popping out, hard and dripping wet. Your eyes widened, “Nononononono no please I’m begging you please stop I can’t take that please don’t do this!” His only response was to look you in the eye and bring up a finger to his lips, a quiet “shh” coming out. Stroking himself, he lined up to your hole and slowly pushed in, stretching you open with his thick cock. You tried to cry out but a hand covered your mouth, tears streaming down your cheeks

“F-FUCK! You feel so good, so tight, wet, perfect. I want to ruin you for any other man, stretch your cunt to fit me and only me, my beautiful Y/N, such a whore, begging to be fucked, to be ruined, just look at you.”

You were full on sobbing at this point, you begged him to stop even with his hand over your mouth. You felt so stretched and full, you couldn’t help but feel pleasure. It was only your body but you felt betrayed. Why did your body like this? You still fruitlessly tried to fight back but Haytham was too strong, keeping you pinned, your back against the wall, sat on the barrels with your legs wide open. He leaned into you, nearly folding your body. His hot breath was now on your neck, his panting accompanied with curses and your name spilling out of his mouth.

“Maybe… maybe I’ll take you home, to keep you, to use you whenever I desire.” You shook your head, your fear spiking more than you thought possible. “Oh, don’t be scared, I won’t hurt you much, I think you’d be a perfect cock sleeve for me. And you’ll live a life of luxury, you should be honored.”

The mere thought of having you all to himself was almost too much, his cock started to throb as he got closer to his edge. His thrusts became more frantic, his panting turning into moans.

“I’m close, I’m so close. And you’re going to take my entire seed. I’m going to fill you, get you home and do this all over again until I can’t anymore. So perfect for me.”

You felt an orgasm quickly approaching, you tried to fight it but it was hopeless, despite your mind, you convulsed around him, your body shaking. He gave slow, hard, deep thrusts as his own climax hit him. Burying himself in you, he filled you to the brim with his load.

There was little relief as he finally pulled out, his cum leaking out of your pussy. “I was serious about taking you home.” Was all he said. You wanted to fight back, to run, to wash him off of you until your skin turned red but you knew that was hopeless, he had power and could find you easily and possibly kill you. All you could do now was pray and find a way to escape but not today.

#haytham kenway #haytham kenway x reader #assassins creed #arie writes

[explosionkatsu]

Demon within me

Immortal! Bakugou x Reader

Incubus falling in love with a Mortal.

Work.

Is all that he can think of. Being the new CEO of their family business is stressing him out. Well, this isn't new to him since he's been running this business for a while now.

How long you ask? A hundred and twenty-eight years. You read that right.

When Bakugou turned 20. His family decided to let him run their business which has been operating for not so extraordinarily long period.

Despite his age, his appearance looks young, healthy, and glowing. Every time he goes out for a break with his pal. Ladies would ogle, some are even brave enough to flirt with him ignoring his cold stare but his best friend is the one who always pushes the ladies away telling them he's not interested.

It’s summer and the heat is intolerable. Even though he's inside his office and all the ac is activated, thinking about the heat outside is making him pissed. So he stood up from his seat and left his office.

“Shitty hair. I'm going out.” He spoke out not giving his best friend a glance while heading towards the elevator.

“Oh really!? Let me join then!” Kirishima gleamed and follow his friend.

“Didn't I give you a lot of work?” Bakugou glared at his best friend for not doing his job properly and they both stepped inside the elevator.

“Relax man. I'm working on it. Just a little break you know. My energy is drained. I need something.” Kirishima said leaning against the elevator.

“Didn’t you get your usual at the parlor?” Bakugou asked, keeping his eyes closed as he waits for the elevator to reach the ground floor.

“Nah. The last one pisses me off so I told her I'm not in the mood. I might head over to the parlor again after this shift. Might as well invite the gang.” Kirishima grinned thinking of his plan. “You wanna come?”

“Fuck no.” Bakugou scowled. “And I don't intend to illustrate why.” He added.

The elevator let out a ding, signaling they reached the ground floor. The door slowly swung open and both gentlemen exited the massive building.

“GoodAfternoon, sir!”

“GoodAfternoon Mr. Bakugou.”

“Goodafternoon Katsuki.”

Greeted by all his employees who he ignores. Once he reached his destination, all the ladies around him are ogling at him. Some are even coming other, some are asking for his number, and some are complimenting him.

‘Fucking bimbos.’ He thought to himself trying to get inside his favorite Ice cream parlor shop.

“Hey hey! Please just get away from him! You really don't want to piss him off!” Kirishima screamed, trying to shield Bakugou. The small crowd eventually evaporated and both males are left in front of the building.

“Man. Why you gotta be so good looking.” Kirishima said panting. “One of these days I’ll bring Denki and Sero with me, I swear to God.”

“Didn’t fucking ask you to do it, didn't I?” Bakugou smirked.

“Geez. You're welcome.” Kirishima pouted.

With one hand, Kirishima pushes the facility door open, entering.

Bakugou was about to take a step when suddenly, a small child bumped into his leg.

“Oof!-”

This made him look down seeing a child sitting on the ground rubbing her forehead with her chubby arms.

“Sowwy, mistew.” The child mumbled before looking up at him.

Bakugou’s eyes softened. Seeing a child like her makes him want to have his own family. His own kid.

“Mister? Will you mawwy (marry) me?” the child said making Bakugou off guard.

“What?”

The child puffed her cheeks before standing up, dusting her fluffy red dress. “I said. Will you mawwy me?” She repeated.

This made Bakugou laugh. Not caring about Kirishima who has been watching him. He picked up the kid and look at her.

Her big shiny y/c eyes are looking at him innocently. Her h/c hair was tied in pigtails.

“Midget. What makes you ask that?” Bakugou smirked at the child on his arms.

“Cause, you look like a pwince chawming.” She said.

“Do I really?” the smirk never left Bakugou’s lips as the child nodded in response.

“Well then. You need to grow up in order to marry me.” Bakugou said now smiling at her.

“Then I will grow up into a beautiful lady and I’ll find you and mawwy you!”

#mha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou

[redflagsandbanners]

I cann’t stop thinking about Russian Robin because one night in the anniversary of The Starcourt Mall Fire Robin gets all misty eyed like - torture, what torture? - I mean yeah but I also lost my best friend then and Nancy is confused because who???

It's Alexei. After Starcourt burned down, Robin tried to find him, only to be told through code he was executed as a traitor of the Soviet Union state, and that she needs to stay on task of watching these weird children as they deal with the supernatural as if her best friend didn't completely turn on his own mission???

> Political thriller.

> Home life? The two people posing as her parents are also spies. Richard Buckley is posing as a transfer cop. Melissa Buckley is one meant to spy on Joyce Byers but after they move to California, she is told to keep an eye on the Karen Wheeler (Ronance forbidden love angst come on)

> Is. Robin. Buckley. Her. Real. Name?

> Robin misses the winters and the food most of all, and Steve keeps believing Robin is still teaching herself Russian because he catches her mumbling words to herself for the rest of the. very. hot. summer. of. 1985.

> Nancy is slapped by the realization she is completely in love with Robin, the first time it snows this winter and she sees the utter bliss on the girl's face when she walks around the cold in a simple sports jacket.

> Nancy very much moans when Robin cooks her the most delicious soup she's ever been graced with.

> For all her brilliance, Robin still instinctively counts height, weight, distance, temperature with the Metric System and everyone is confused until she smiles an innocent thing and quickly switches to the American one. KGB gives her a hard time about it.

> Her KGB handler is another young girl with a beautiful voice that Nancy once hears through the closed door of Family Video’s backroom after hours and almost kneels over in jealousy because who is this angel talking gibberish to Robin?

> Robin lives in absolute terror for about a week after and damn nearly ships herself to China so she can never be found from both Russian and American intelligence, because of how careless she’s gotten in these spaces she very much feels comfortable to simply be.

> Coming out to Steve under the truth serum she up and down swore to her officials she can handle yes sir thank you very much - was her biggest slip up in all her years as a spy. She also lives in absolute fear KGB will find out and kick her out of the mission.

> She doesn't exactly turn like Alexei did but after Vecna and That Trauma, she calls KGB like yes, hi, no more, please, i care about these kids now and this is personal, but this is a political thriller my dear don’t you know the gerne you’re in? so they are like huh, no? We need you keep doing the work until the last of these children leaves Hawkins. There is a contract and everything?

> The ANGST when the truth comes out...... like Steve doesn't talk to Robin for about a year after. Nancy cannot get over it ("Was everything an act then?" (SCREAMING) "Nancy, please..." "I don't believe anything you are saying, Robin. Stay away from me". (WHEELS AND BRAKES SCREECHING ON ASPHALT))

> Somehow, Erica is the only one sticking close to Robin after. Like the kid is impressed to the point of which she cannot be mad and actually no this one has sticked by our sides through hell despite orders and has protected us and it is truly a miracle they haven't executed her too.

> Both Nancy and Steve get misty eyed, they talk, they agree, they go to find Robin and wipe her a new one but accept her back and Erica is like "Oh, yeah, she is going back to Russia".

> Robin. Buckley. Is. Not. Her. Real. Name.

#HI YES #i cannot be writing this too #pls #russian robin is something that can be so personal actually #robin buckley #ronance #stodin #russian robin

[i23kazu]

say no to this

warnings – mentions of abuse in passing, it's not descriptive. also diluc cheats on you. honestly i'd tag this as suggestive because there's a bit of IMPLIED sexy times in this one but i didn't write it in!

characters – diluc x fem!reader [can be read as gn!reader if you'd like, but feminine terminology (wife, mother, etc) is still there]

a/n – the second part of my hamilton au! all lyrics go to lin manuel miranda, i don't take credit for any of it. i had to rewrite some parts of the song to fit the au! please reblog if you enjoyed this! the song is "say no to this" from hamilton :3 link to series post.

There's nothing like summer in the city, Ying thought. Someone under stress meets someone looking pretty – there's trouble in the air, even you can smell it. Our dear Ragnvindr's by himself: I think I'll let him tell it.

( diluc's pov )

I hadn't slept in a week – I was weak, I was awake. You've never seen a bastard orphan more in need of a break. Between longing for Jean and I was missing my wife – that's when Miss Donna Reynolds walked into my life.

The girl said, " Mr Ragnvindr, I know you are a man of honor. I'm so sorry to bother you at home, but I don't know where to go, and I came here all alone."

Reynolds added, "My husband's doin' me wrong. He's been beatin' me, cheatin' on me, and mistreatin' me. But suddenly he's up and gone, and I don't have the means to go on."

I sighed. The Reynolds family was a notoriously broken one – James Reynolds was a gambler and a drunkard, a wife beater, even. Donna Reynolds took the brunt of it all.

Therefore, I offered her a loan and offered to walk her home – I was luckily she lived close by, otherwise I wouldn't have offered in lieu of the mountains of paperwork that welcomed me in my abode. Once we were out on the streets, Donna tapped my shoulder.

"Yes?"

"Oh, nothing – you're too kind, sir."

I felt a deep pity for her life, and gave her thirty bucks that I had kept away.

"I live a block away," she said. "This one's mine, sir."

Donna walked up the steps to her home, breath trembling. She placed her hand on

Then I said, "Well, I should head back home. Goodni-"

What I wasn't expecting was the matriarch of the Reynolds family to grab my wrist tightly, and pull me into her house.

"Mrs Reynolds, I really should be going-"

"Just follow me, Diluc." Donna turned red, and led me to her bed.

(WAHOO SEXY TIMES WAAAOW i'm not writing this shit.)

That was when I began to pray. Archons, show me how to say no to this. How do I not know how to say no to this? Barbatos, she looks so helpless. (And her body's saying, "Hell, yes.)

No, show me how to say no to this.

I don't know how to say no to this!

In my mind, I promise you, (Y/N) – I'm trying to go, but all of a sudden her mouth was on mine, and I don't say no.

I couldn't say no.

On my account, I wish I could say that was the last time – I know, I said that last time, but it became a pastime. A month into this endeavor with Donna, I received a letter from a Mr. James Reynolds, even better. It said:

"Dear Sir, I hope this letter finds you in good health And in a prosperous enough position to put wealth In the pockets of people like me down on their luck You see, that was my wife who you decided to-"

Fuuuuuuuu-.

"Uh oh, you made the wrong sucker a cuckold So time to pay the piper for the pants you unbuckled And hey, you can keep seein' my whore wife If the price is right, if not I'm telling your wife."

I hid the letter and I raced to her place. I screamed, "How could you?" in her face, but she said;

"No, sir!"

Donna was half dressed and apologetic: a mess, she looked pathetic, she was crying.

"Please, don't go, Diluc!"

"So was your whole story a setup?" I asked angrily, throwing the letter into her face.

"I don't know about any letter!"

"Stop crying, archons, dammit, get up!"

"I didn't know any better!"

"I am ruined! My career is ruined." I wanted to tear my hair out in that moment.

"Please, don't leave me with him helpless!" Donna was sobbing into my lap.

"I am helpless, how could I do this?"

"Diluc, please – just give him what he wants and you can have me!" I don't want you.

"Whatever you want, if you pay, you can stay! Please!"

Barbatos, show me how to say no to this. I don't know how to say no to this.

But this situation's helpless, right? Who am I to deny a person in need?

"There is nowhere I can go!" Donna cried. I couldn't think straight anymore, and I kissed the girl on my lap.

To tell you the truth, when her body's on mine, I don't say no. I can't say no.

Say no to this, Diluc.

Yes.

"So?" James Reynolds smirked, in my mind. I could picture that gleeful grin of that man when I give him the money.

Nobody needs to know. I'm sorry, (Y/N).

wahoo sorry i put this story on hold for so long!! hope yall enjoyed and dont worry the next part will definitely be better <3 please reblog with tags and comments :") i wont tag this with the astronetwrk tag because this is suggestive ueueue

#diluc x reader #diluc x fem reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #mildly suggestive – this part is about cheating tbh. #also emotional and physical abuse is mentioned #so i'd be warned if i were yall :") #you can search up the lyrics to Say No To This (Hamilton) if you want to see the premise of this story #[📝 stewardess' notepad!] #hamilton #hamilton au

[d3ad-on-arriva1]

so. say no to this laurens edition. it is not very good but i think it kinda funny

There's nothing like summer in the city Someone under stress meets someone looking pretty There's trouble in the air, you can smell it And Alexander's by himself, I'll let him tell it

I hadn't slept in a week I was weak, I was awake You've never seen a bastard orphan more in need of a break Longing for Angelica Missing my wife That's when Mister John Laurens walked into my life, he said

I know you are a man of honor I'm so sorry to bother you at home But I don't know where to go, and I came here all alone

He said

My wife's doin' me wrong Beatin' me, cheatin' me, mistreatin' me Suddenly she's up and gone I don't have the means to go on

So I offered him a loan, I offered to walk him home, he said

You're too kind, sir

I gave him thirty bucks that I had socked away He lived a block away, he said

This one's mine, sir

Then I said, "Well, I should head back home" He turned red, he led me to his bed Let his legs spread and said

Stay

Hey

Hey

That's when I began to pray Lord, show me how to say no to this I don't know how to say no to this

But my God, he looks so helpless And his body's saying, "Hell, yes"

Whoa

No, show me how to say no to this

I don't know how to say no to this

In my mind, I'm tryin' to go (go, go, go)

Then his mouth is on mine, and I don't say

No, no (say no to this) No, no (say no to this) No, no (say no to this) No, no (say no to this)

I wish I could say that was the last time I said that last time, it became a pastime A month into this endeavor I received a letter From a Mrs. Martha Laurens, even better, it said

Dear Sir, I hope this letter finds you in good health And in a prosperous enough position to put wealth In the pockets of people like me down on their luck You see, that was my husband who you decided to (fuuuu)

Uh oh, you made the wrong sucker a cuquean So time to pay the piper for the pants you unbuckled And hey, you can keep seein' my whore husband If the price is right, if not I'm telling your wife

I hid the letter and I raced to his place Screamed, "How could you?" In his face, he said

No, sir

Half dressed, apologetic, a mess, he looked pathetic, he cried

Please don't go, sir

So was your whole story a setup?

I don't know about any letter (stop crying God dammit, get up)

I didn't know any better (I am ruined)

Please don't leave me with her helpless (I am helpless how could I do this?) Just give her what she wants and you can have me (I don't want you, I don't want you)

Whatever you want, if you pay

You can stay (Lord, show me how to say no to this) I don't know how to say no to this But this situation's helpless (helpless)

And his body's screaming, "Hell, yes"

No, show me how to say no to this (whoa) How can I say no to this? There is nowhere I can go (go, go, go)

When his body's on mine I do not say (no) yes

Say no to this

Say no to this, I don't say no to this There is nowhere I can go (go, go, go) So?

#hamilton musical #lams

[fnafagainstmodernfnaf]

Do we really have to tho.. .

I think this calls for a secret marriage 🤭🤭

-queen of the shadow realms

There's nothing like summer in the city

Someone under stress meets someone looking pretty

There's trouble in the air, you can smell it

And Alexander's by himself, I'll let him tell it

I hadn't slept in a week

I was weak, I was awake

You've never seen a bastard orphan more in need of a break

Longing for Angelica

Missing my wife

That's when Miss Maria Reynolds walked into my life, she said

I know you are a man of honor

I'm so sorry to bother you at home

But I don't know where to go, and I came here all alone

She said

My husband's doin' me wrong

Beatin' me, cheatin' me, mistreatin' me

Suddenly he's up and gone

I don't have the means to go on

So I offered her a loan, I offered to walk her home, she said

You're too kind, sir

I gave her thirty bucks that I had socked away

She lived a block away, she said

This one's mine, sir

Then I said, "Well, I should head back home"

She turned red, she led me to her bed

Let her legs spread and said

Stay

Hey

Hey

That's when I began to pray

Lord, show me how to say no to this

I don't know how to say no to this

But my God, she looks so helpless

And her body's saying, "Hell, yes"

Whoa

No, show me how to say no to this

I don't know how to say no to this

In my mind, I'm tryin' to go (go, go, go)

Then her mouth is on mine, and I don't say

No, no (say no to this)

No, no (say no to this)

No, no (say no to this)

No, no (say no to this)

I wish I could say that was the last time

I said that last time, it became a pastime

A month into this endeavor I received a letter

From a Mr. James Reynolds, even better, it said

Dear Sir, I hope this letter finds you in good health

And in a prosperous enough position to put wealth

In the pockets of people like me down on their luck

You see, that was my wife who you decided to (fuuuu)

Uh oh, you made the wrong sucker a cuckold

So time to pay the piper for the pants you unbuckled

And hey, you can keep seein' my whore wife

If the price is right, if not I'm telling your wife

I hid the letter and I raced to her place

Screamed, "How could you?" In her face, she said

No, sir

Half dressed, apologetic, a mess, she looked pathetic, she cried

Please don't go, sir

So was your whole story a setup?

I don't know about any letter (stop crying God dammit, get up)

I didn't know any better (I am ruined)

Please don't leave me with him helpless (I am helpless how could I do this?)

Just give him what he wants and you can have me (I don't want you, I don't want you)

Whatever you want, if you pay

You can stay (Lord, show me how to say no to this)

I don't know how to say no to this

But this situation's helpless (helpless)

And her body's screaming, "Hell, yes"

No, show me how to say no to this (whoa)

How can I say no to this?

There is nowhere I can go (go, go, go)

When her body's on mine I do not say (no) yes

Say no to this

Say no to this, I don't say no to this

There is nowhere I can go (go, go, go)

So?

-NM Mangle🪳

#fnafagainstmodernfnaf #fnaf security breach #fnaf sb #ask blog #ask box open #fnaf #askblog #send asks #Hamilton #alexander hamilton #say no to this

[helenaheissner]

Love During Robot Fighting Time: Chapter 5

Hello, lovelies! Hope y'all are doing well :) 

Don't forget you can read two chapters ahead on both this story and "Magical Girl Exorcist Squad", as well as twenty chapters ahead on "A Dream of Summer Rain", by becoming a paid subscriber on my Substack or my Patreon!

***

Keith

12 Months Earlier

“And that’s why you don’t mess with the future champ!” I screamed as I started doing a poorly choreographed victory dance. I’d just slayed a flipper called… Well, Flipper. It looked like a dolphin, and the bottlenose was used to… You get the idea. And it was piloted by these guys from San Diego who had been jeering at me the entirety of the match. 

It was my first match in the pros. I was surprised to have won. But not nearly as surprised as everyone else clearly was. So I danced like the uncoordinated idiot that I was, no partners in sight so I had to be content with my own (not-so) sick moves. 

Marty Weston pulled me aside into an interview. “So, Keith Calloway, how you feeling right now, kid?!”

“I’m feeling pretty great. I think I’ve provided everyone with a good demonstration of what’s gonna happen to them when they face me!” I said, the barely-earned confidence flooding out of my mouth with each screamed syllable. 

“Bold words,” Marty said. “You think you’re gonna live up to them?”

I grabbed the mic out of his hands and grinned maniacally. “I think there’s a new sheriff in town, and you best believe he’s gunning for the crown!”

Everyone went wild, and it was at that point I decided this would make a good angle for a pro career. 

Because I’m an idiot. 

***

“So, Keith,” Eric said, and it felt like I’d been slapped. What the hell was happening to me?

“Yes,” I said, hurriedly putting my hands under my rear while I sat in the uncomfortable plastic chair. 

Eric Gaines was the owner of Gaines Auto Body and Bodybuilding, south Los Angeles’ premier destination for car detailing and weightlifting. Eric was, quite simply put, a hulking specimen of testosterone. He looked like he didn’t have an ounce of fat anywhere on his body- just raw muscle as far as the eye could see. He’d been my sponsor the past year, and he’d been conciliatory when I’d lost the finals last year. The unspoken caveat was that I needed to turn it around next year. 

And so far… I was letting him down. 

His office was all white walls and hardwood floors with a dark brown finish, his desk made of pure glass. He sat on a workout ball, while his guests were made to sit in the most uncomfortable plastic chairs imaginable. Probably a business negotiation strategy- the man had a truly staggering number of books on the subject on shelves lining his walls. “Last night didn’t exactly go as planned.”

“No, sir, it didn’t.”

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

“Um… I mean, I could tell you about how my loss was a fluke, but it would probably just sound like an excuse,” I said. 

“You’re right, it would,” he said with a shockingly earnest smile. Was he being passive-aggressive? I could never tell.

“I’d like to say it won’t happen again-”

“But you can’t guarantee that, and that’s completely reasonable,” he said with a conciliatory shrug. 

“Uh… Yeah,” I said. 

“But you’ll do the best you can?”

“Yes! Absolutely.”

“That’s good. Because anything less than that… Any more of these ‘flukes’, and you and I might have to reconsider our arrangement,” Eric said. “Sponsoring a robot fighter like yourself is an eccentric rich man’s game, and I’m merely an eccentric middle class man running a small business. I have a bottom line. And a reputation. And given your… Antics, in the ring, if you keep losing, it might not be great for that reputation, or that bottom line. Do we understand each other?”

“Yes, sir!” I said. 

“That’s good to hear, Keith,” he said. 

Slap. Seriously, why did that keep happening today? Sure, taking off that dress last night had been one of the single most painful experiences of my life, but that didn’t MEAN anything. Definitely. Not one bit. Not even a tiny little sliver of anything. 

“The money for this month should have already been deposited in your account,” Eric continued. “Anything else you need for the time being?”

“No, sir,” I said. 

“Good. Let’s talk again next week.”

We shook hands, and I left and stepped out into the hot midsummer air of Culver City. That was one meeting down for today. That just left the second one… And probably the much more painful one. 

I’d called Underhill last night, against my instincts. He’d texted back saying if I wanted to resume our conversation from last night, we could meet for lunch the next day.

We met at a retro diner in Inglewood with old movie posters all over the walls and fifties music playing on the speakers and waitresses wearing old timey dresses as uniforms. I’d been here before, and I’d probably been able to ignore it before, but the uniforms were… Really, really freaking cute! They were pink with white polka dots, and they had red aprons over the front. The women all wore their hair up, and I pictured myself with long hair, down past my shoulders, and in the process of putting it up, spending an hour each morning brushing it and applying product and arranging it and… 

Oh boy. 

Boy?

Right, that’s what I was. That’s all I’d ever be. I wasn’t really tr… 

But I wasn’t exactly cis, now was I? Cis people don’t spend their downtime fantasizing about being the opposite gender. 

So what was I? A girl? Non-binary? Gender fluid? 

Did I even like being a boy?

I ordered a black coffee after being sat in a booth in the back corner of the oblong establishment, drumming my fingers on the table while staring into my drink. 

“Hi,” Underhill’s voice called out as he approached. I looked up- he wore a black and gray flannel button-down and jeans, his hair messy but still framing his face well, his stubble somewhat grown in compared to last night. His eyes were… Big and friendly and inviting, and I… 

No, no, bad! I chastised myself. “Hi.”

He sat down. “So, what did you want to talk about?”

I sipped my coffee, then exhaled deeply. “So. Before we go any further. I need you to promise me that this will remain confidential.”

“Sure thing. Scout’s honor,” he said, holding up the obligatory three fingers, smiling broadly with all his perfectly straight pearly whites. 

 “You were a Boy Scout?”

“Eagle Scout!” he said. 

“Of course you were,” I muttered. 

The waitress, a young black woman named Connie, came over and asked if we were ready to order, to which Underhill replied he just wanted a black coffee. 

“A fellow black coffee drinker, I see,” I said. “A man of culture. Duly noted.”

He chuckled. “You’re stalling.”

I gave a much more nervous chuckle. “Yeah. I am.”

I pulled out my phone, and showed him a photo of me from last night. After Mom had gotten done doing my hair. 

“Oh wow, look at you,” Underhill said with an approving smile. “You look pretty. Did you do your own makeup?”

I felt myself blush. “I’m not wearing makeup in that photo.”

“You’re not? Dang. Good for you.”

I chuckled again… Actually, no, that wasn’t quite accurate; I giggled. I freaking giggled- what the hell was wrong with me? “Thanks. My mom did my hair for me.”

“So she knows?”

“Both my parents do,” I said, stirring my coffee with a spoon. “They were… Completely supportive, and completely unsurprised.”

“So, you’re-”

“I don’t know,” I cut him off. “If you were about to say the ‘t word’ that is. I don’t know yet. But… There’s a chance that I am.”

Connie came back and asked if we wanted anything to eat. Simultaneously, Underhill and I both said, “A Denver omelet, side of hashed browns.”

Connie raised an eyebrow and smirked, then jotted it down on her pad. “Sounds good, kids.”

“A woman of culture,” Underhill smiled at me again, the kind of smile that you saw in dental commercials- seriously, killer smile. 

A burst of warmth ran through me at being called a woman- Gender Euphoria? The articles certainly would have called it that. Was this… This couldn’t just be my immature ass getting off on tricking people into thinking I was trans. That would be ridiculous- no cis person would ever be happy with something like that. 

“I try,” I said, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “I guess I just wanted to ask you- and I need you to be honest here- do you think I’m trans?”

He flinched. “Um… I’m not really sure it’s up to me whether or not you’re trans.”

“I know that, I know that, I just… My parents think I am, and I’m starting to think that maybe, MAYBE, I might be. What do you think?”

“I think that you shouldn’t be looking for someone else’s approval on this sort of thing.”

Dammit. That was a good point. 

“But at the same time, if you’re hoping I’ll say yes and tell you you’re trans-”

I scrunched up my face again, closing my eyes and nodding in spite of myself. Ugh, what is wrong with me?!

I felt a hand covering mine. I opened my eyes to find Underhill squeezing it. “Look,” he said, “I’m not an expert. Yes, my best friend is a trans girl, and I’ve learned a lot about this stuff from her. All I can really tell you is what I think she would say- which does slightly beg the question of why you wanna talk to me about this and not Faith.”

“Because she hates me,” I monotoned.

He opened and closed his mouth, then nodded. “Yeah, that’s a good point- she does. She REALLY does.”

“Not that I don’t deserve it,” I said from the corner of my mouth.

“Oh come on, don’t be like that-”

“I’m a total jerk whenever we’re both around each other.”

“Yeah, but you’re not when you’re out of the ring,” Underhill said. “You play the heel because our sport is populated mostly by weird nerds with questionable social skills- the audience likes a good douchebag. Yeah, you lay it on thick sometimes, but also Faith is terrible at reading social cues from people she doesn’t know super well.”

“Maybe I should dial it back,”  I said. “That whole schtick was one thing when I was on a winning streak. Right now… That ain’t me.”

“Heh. Maybe,” Underhill said. “Backtracking, though: if Faith were here, and she didn’t hate you, I’m sure she would tell you that wanting to be a girl and being a girl are the same thing, but that only you can decide what you want.”

“That’s good advice,” I said, trying to ignore the hollow feeling in my chest. Connie came back with our orders, as well as a single chocolate milkshake with two straws. “We didn’t order that,” I said. 

“Yeah, I put it in for you,” Connie said. “You two were being super cute, figured why not.”

“C-cute?!” I stammered. It was then that I looked down and realized Underhill’s hand was still covering mine. He seemed to realize the same thing, and slowly withdrew his hand, but still smiling that winning smile. 

“I mean, hey, we’re both real good lookin’,” he said. 

Connie gave him a thumbs-up as she walked away. I buried my face in my hands, the heat from my red cheeks burning my palms like a hot stove. 

“You wound me,” Underhill said with a laugh.

“Why?”

“Embarrassed to be assumed as my date? She wounds my fragile male ego.”

I smiled in spite of myself. “Shut up- aren’t you embarrassed? People might think you’re gay!”

“So?” Underhill shrugged. 

“So?!”

“So,” he said. “Not really a big deal to me. If it was the right guy, I could probably call myself hetero-flexible. And besides, you’re…”

“I’m…”

“A question mark,” he said. 

“Damn you.”

He rolled his eyes. “Besides, you do realize we live in southern California, yes? This is arguably the most queer friendly place on the whole of God’s green earth.”

“You… You raise an excellent point,” I acquiesced. He really did- if this, whatever it was, was a part of me I wanted to explore, I did live in one of the better places to do that in. And if I wanted to wear a dress outside my home, even if it were just to go down to the market for groceries, it wouldn’t be THAT abnormal in Venice Beach. 

He took a sip from the chocolate shake, and, on impulse, I went for a sip as well, our faces, our mouths very close together as we both sipped. It was his turn to blush, then, and I laughed in earnest and without embarrassment when he did. 

“I thought you said you didn’t mind,” I needled him.

“Lol, just caught me by surprise,” Underhill said. “Bold move, that was.”

“I’m a bold girl,” I said, the words tripping out of my mouth before I could stop them. I’d just called myself a girl without even meaning to, and it felt… It felt amazing. It felt like a hot bubble bath after a long walk, like dry socks on a damp afternoon, like the warm and soft comfort of my bed after a long day. 

Dammit. 

“That you are, ma’am,” he said. There was that smile again. 

Dammit. Dammit dammit dammit.

“You’re a good guy, Underhill,” I said. 

“Thanks. But call me Zeke.”

“You’re a good guy, Zeke,” I said, then finally took a bite of my omelet. Delicious!

“Thanks. Also, there’s actually something I wanted to ask you,” Underhill… Zeke said. 

“What’s that?” I said between bites. 

“What got you into the robot fighting game, anyway?” he asked. “For me it was just a fun thing to do with my engineering program buddies- I never expected to actually go anywhere with it.”

“... It’s a little embarrassing.”

“Calloway, we’re professional science nerds.”

“Fair point,” I said. “I, uh, always wanted to build my own Gundam, ever since I was a little kid.”

“Ayyy, I love me some Gundam.”

“You do?”

“Hell yeah! Never get to talk about it though because Faith hates it.”

“What the- she hates Gundam? She’s a robot fighter, and she hates giant robot anime?”

“Obviously she doesn’t hate giant robot anime- look what our bot is named!”

“Touche,” I said. 

“She’s strictly a super-robots girl,” Zeke said. 

“Ahhh, I see, I see,” I said. “That makes sense. No disrespect, they certainly have their place, but I lean more towards real robots.”

“Fair and valid.”

“I actually have a bunch of Gundam on Blue Ray,” I said, leaning forward in my seat. I never got to talk about Gundam with anyone, much to my chagrin, though the whole ‘no life outside of work’ thing probably contributed to that. “You wanna watch it together sometime?”

“Sure!” he said. “When works for you?”

“I’m free tonight,” I said. 

“Awesome!” he said. “Can’t wait.”

I smiled. “Me neither.”

***

Buy my books here!

#serial fiction #original fiction #trans woman #web novel #trans protagonist #wlw #comedy #romcom #romance #battlebots #enemies to lovers #enemies to friends to lovers #rivals to lovers #bisexual #polyamory #love triangle #tournament arc

[gale-gentlepenguin]

ML song Ficlet: Say no to this

(Inspired by Elation/Exaltation and Hamilton. And don’t worry I made it safe. Bold are the people singing))

Plagg: There's nothing like summer in the city

Someone under stress meets someone looking pretty

There's trouble in the air, you can smell it

And Chat noir’s by himself, I'll let him tell it

Chat noir:

I had been patrolling for a week

I was weak, I was awake

You've never seen a teen hero more in need of a break

Moving on from Ladybug

Wanting a lovelife

That's when Miss Marinette walked into my life,

she said

Marinette:

I know you are a man of honor

I'm so sorry to bother you on patrol

But I don't know where to go, and I saw you all alone

Chat noir:

She said

Marinette:

My friends's doin' me wrong

Dissin' me, ignoring' me, dismissin' me

Suddenly I needed some air

I don't know if they even care

Chat noir:

So I offered her an ear, I offered to get some ice cream with her

Marinette:

You're too kind, sir

I took her on a ride to Andre’s ice cream cart

She said

Marinette:

This one's fine sir

Chat noir:

After a weird debate with the man Then I said,

"Well, I should head back home"

She turned red, she kissed me on the head

Let her lips spread and said

Marinette:

Stay!

Chat noir:

Hey…

Marinette:

Hey❤️

Chat noir:

That's when I began to pray

Plagg, show me how to say no to this

I don't know how to say no to this

But my kwami, she looks so helpless

And her voice's saying, “oh yes"

Marinette:

Whoa!

Chat noir:

No, show me how to say no to this

I don't know how to say no to this

In my mind, I'm tryin' to go (go, go, go)

Then her mouth is on mine, and I don't say

Chorus (Alya and Tikki)

No, no (say no to this)

No, no (say no to this)

No, no (say no to this)

No, no (say no to this)

Chat noir:

I tried to say that was the last time

It felt like a crime, feeling guilty, such a pastime

A minute into this endeavor, an akuma appeared

From a Mr. Monarch, even better, it said to her

Monarch:

Demasker, I hope this akuma finds you in despair

And in a desperate enough position to put miraculous

In the pockets of people like me down on their luck

You see, Chat noir is someone you want to

(fudge)

Chat noir:

I felt him say

Monarch:

Uh oh, you made the wrong sucker a victim

So time to pay the piper for the person you cataclysmed

And hey, you can keep seein' this dumb girl

If the price is right, if not I'm taking her life

Chat noir:

I panicked and I raced in place

I Screamed, "Snap out of it?" In her face, she said

Marinette:

No, sir

Desperate, unapologetic, a mess, I felt pathetic, then she cried

Marinette:

“Let me love sir”

Chat noir:

Don’t let him make you a setup?

Marinette: (chat noir in parentheses)

I don't know if I can let up (dont give in mari come on, get up)

I should know better (Paris is ruined)

Please don't leave me with him helpless (I am helpless how could I do this?)

I’ll give him what he wants and you can have me (I can’t do that, It will hurt you)

Whatever you want, We can be free!

You can stay (Plagg , show me how to say no to this)

Chat noir:

I don't know how to say no to this

But this situation's helpless (helpless)

And her eyes's screaming, "violence”

No, show me how to say no to this (whoa)

How can I say no to this?

There is nowhere I can go (go, go, go)

When my mouth is on hers and I do not say (no) yes

Say no to this

Say no to this, I don't say no to this

There is nowhere I can go (go, go, go)

Monarch:

So?

Chat noir:

I kiss her to free her soul.

#miraculous ladybug #ml #ml spoilers #ml elation spoilers #ml exaltation #say no to this #Hamilton reference #Marichat

[eoieopda]

blog info

⇢ how tf do i pronounce your username?

oy-OPE-da. it’s the romanized version of 어이없다, which is one of my favorite korean words. listen to hoshi scream it here.

⇢ why do you have a problem with minors and ageless blogs?

i discussed this here. as of summer 2023, i am no longer blocking ageless blogs and am instead ignoring their interactions unless and until i have some reason to believe they're an adult. see here for some ways that i (and other creators) approach this.

⇢ can i request to be tagged for new stories or new parts?

i don't do fic-specific tags (with the exception of force quit) because it's a massive hassle. instead, i have permanent taglists which include fics/chapters + drabbles:

multi (for all of the groups listed below)

bts

seventeen

stray kids

ateez

⇢ can i tag you in xyz?

i track #eoieopda archive (and also #eoieopdaarchive because some people use that instead). i don't like to be tagged outright in fics if:

i didn't sign up for a taglist or otherwise consent to be tagged

i didn't beta it or have anything to do with its creation, and/or

we don't know/talk to each other (because i can't vouch for whatever it is you've tagged me in — or you, personally — and don't want to be explicitly linked to it).

⇢ when is xyz being posted/updated?

when i have the brain juice and time and i want to 😌

⇢ why is xyz on hiatus/discontinued?

likely because i, icarus, have flown too close to the sun. sometimes, the idea part of my brain moves faster than the follow-through part; and i need to take a silly little break before i’m able to pick up a story. sometimes, i lose interest entirely and will then remove something from my masterlist + make it very clear that a series is discontinued.

personal

⇢ your real name was leaked — can i call you that?

it doesn't bother me if people use my govt. name when they talk to/about me! my whole tagging system uses my nickname (jade) because my actual name wasn't supposed to get out, so that's (primarily) how i'm going to refer to myself on here.

⇢ you said you were adopted —can you tell me xyz about this entire process, what you know of your birth parents, what you remember about korea, etc.?

no thanks! i know very little about the whole thing because i was literally 18 months old. i've also had experiences on here where users' entire communication with me has been to ask/talk about these things, which is icky at best and fetishistic at worst (whether or not it's intentional).

⇢ i’m not korean — can i call you unnie/noona/hyung?

i don’t have a problem with this, and i actually find it pretty cute. keep in mind that my opinion here isn’t universal amongst koreans; and i did not grow up in my own culture, so koreans that did are entitled to feel differently.

⇢ can i come into your inbox and ask very invasive questions about your personal life and/or spew racist garbage and/or erase your identity and/or tokenize you?

thanks for checking — absolutely not! playing stupid games will win you stupid prizes (aka being blocked and/or reported).

⇢ i’m confused by your pronouns — which should i use?

my gender identity is essentially the ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ emoticon at this point, so i use both she/her and they/them. and by that, i mean: pls don’t stick to one or the other (exclusively she, exclusively they) because i am not exclusively either.

i’m comfy with almost all “gendered” terms (sis, bro, dude, girlie, sir, ma’am, gworl, etc.) because i think gender is fake, lol. i do not vibe with “queen”, though, and i don’t know why. #kingjade

⇢ is it cool if i pop into your ask box with random thoughts, memes, tiktoks, non-k-pop stuff, etc.?

hell yeah, brother! let’s be friends.

⇢ you talk so much and it’s clogging up my dash — what do?

check my tag index here and filter shit to your heart's content!

requests (read the rules here before submitting)

⇢ who will you write for?

bts, seventeen, stray kids, and ateez.

i don't write for han jisung, kim seungmin, yang jeongin, or choi jongho as a personal preference. i adore them, but i don't see them in a romantic and/or sexual light.

⇢ are there any requests you won’t take?

i’m open to trying most kinks, dynamics, and AUs, depending on what's being requested of me (and the weather, what i ate for breakfast, the lunar phase, etc.) i'm down with poly!member x reader; and member x reader x member (etc.) dynamics, but i don't currently write strictly member x member.

hard passes:

non-con

anything involving minors

harry potter AUs

⇢ did you get my request? are you done yet?

pleeeeaaaaaaaaseeeee don’t. i did get your request. i’m a full-time attorney with fibromyalgia & ADHD and therefore cannot make any promises that my brain and/or body and/or schedule will allow me to finish things quickly.

i don’t complete every request i receive! sometimes, the requests are too similar to what i’ve done already, they don’t spark anything for me, etc. i reserve the right to pick and choose what i spend my time on.

rev. 12/9/23

#frequently asked questions #jade’s faq #faq

[krethes]

@wolfstarmicrofic Day Twenty-Three: accident

This is part 3 of the firefighter AU. Part 1 (Wildfire). Part 2 (Inhale).

c/w: mentions of car accident, past death of parent, general firefighter peril and emotions.

18+ nsfw

There's no off-season, no summer vacation, no federal or religious holidays. There are a lot of missed events, fun opportunities gone untaken, and fucked-up sleep schedules. Remus can't remember the last time he actually watched a movie in theaters or ate a meal at a restaurant that wasn't within walking distance of the station. Dry springs and drier summers are spent jumping out of planes into burning landscapes, and the rest of his year is...this.

He can feel the bite of the sleet even through his gear. The burning heat of the up-ended oil tanker set ablaze does little to warm him, but even if it did, the accident scene they've walked into is enough to chill his blood: an oil tanker on fire a few meters off, the cab crushed like a coke can. The ground beneath his boots is slick: black ice.

His team is already on the trailer of the tanker, dousing it with foam from three angles. Remus descends on the cab and steels his heart against the chaos he knows he'll see inside. He needs to focus on the mission and put his emotions aside. Emotions cause mistakes, and mistakes cause burns, injury, and death.

So he shuts his sympathies down as they wrench open the crumpled door. The driver is breathing (good) and conscious (poor fucker), but he has a face full of glass and his leg definitely shouldn't be bent that way. "Sir, can you hear me? I'm Lieutenant Lupin. I'm here to help."

The man's screams follow him home.

He tried to ignore Lily's pointed look once they'd loaded the driver into the ambulance, but she's somehow gotten craftier over the years. She's not allowed within explosion range of the tanker (James's rules, not hers, though Remus thinks she'd probably change her stance on that now that her jacket can't close over the swell of her belly) but she cuts Remus off at the scarlet Number 10 engine. She dismisses his protests that he's fine (because he is!) and sends him home. There is no arguing with Captain Potter.

At home, he's alone with his thoughts. Sirius will be back...some time, hopefully before the sun rises. They both moonlight as paramedics, because of course they do. They have to constantly keep moving. If they stop, they might have to deal with all the shit getting thrown at them. If they stop, they might never start again. Remus lights their fireplace (funny how he can't stay away from that, either) pours himself a measure of whiskey, and curls up on their sofa.

Sirius wakes him with a gentle touch, all that's needed after years responding to a hair-trigger alert. "You're the worst fireman ever," he teases, gesturing to the still-lit fireplace. "Leaving a hearth unattended. Wow, Remus."

He smells like the hospital, like antiseptic and the lurid green cleaner they use on the floors. His mouth, when Remus kisses him, tastes like stale hospital coffee and cigarettes, and his hair is a bit lank under his fingers and his blue shirt sweat-damp. Need overtakes Remus, pushing aside the shadowy feelings lurking just below his skin, and he quickly fiddles with the zip and buttons of Sirius's uniform shirt.

Sirius pulls back as Remus's wandering hands grow more urgent, a questioning look in his eyes. "Bad call?" he asks, though he must already know. "Saw that guy..." Sirius stills Remus's hands and pulls him upright to sit next to him. "Even looked a little like your dad, huh?" His words are soft, smoke-husky, but gentle as he presses Remus to his chest.

Remus's throat is tight. "Yeah..." His father was a long-haul trucker, and not as lucky as the one today when his tires met sudden ice over a bridge. Accidents like this are always hard on him. It's been seven years, but things like that don't just go away. Remus clears his throat and stands, tugging Sirius up with him. "C'mon."

The shower is a sanctuary. There is no fire here, just steam. No murky memories or painful thoughts, just the slick slide of their bodies together as the water sluices through their skin. It washes grey soot and sweat alike down the drain until the water runs clear. Sirius shampoos Remus's hair with careful, luxurious care, working out the knots in his neck and shoulders with deft fingers, and Remus thinks (not for the first time), that if he could live in their shower, he would.

When Remus returns the favor, Sirius decides to drop to his knees and take Remus in his mouth. When Remus's nails scrape across his scalp, lathering the soap into his long, black hair, Sirius moans and takes him deeper, deeper, deeper, down into the soft, wet heat of his throat. There's no rush to it, though, no urgency to reach a hasty end, and Sirius stands to let Remus rinse his hair.

They fall into each other on the bed, sheets freshened by their maid (the one "frivilous" thing Remus agreed to after they both made Lieutenant) and smelling of lavender. Five years ago, Sirius would have begged him to talk about it, to open up, to crack apart his protective walls and spill all of his squirmy, sobbing guts out onto the mattress before they did anything. But Sirius knows him now, knows that Remus will speak when he's ready. They don't need words, not for this.

His hips whinge in protest when Sirius pushes his legs back, but Sirius's first bottomed-out thrust into his body is worth the discomfort. They don't often have time for actual sex, but their schedules and the stars do occasionally line up. Sirius fucks into him slowly, measured movements focused entirely on Remus's pleasure without racing towards orgasm. With each push forward, it's 'I love you 'and every pull out 'you are enough.' The kisses that dot his neck, stubble-rough, are 'you are a good son,' and the hands that catch his wrists and hold them above his head are 'you are a good man.'

By the end, Remus is crying, even as his orgasm is finally wrung from his body by Sirius's tongue filling the space his spent cock left. It's cathartic, a release of the emotions he's had to lock up, of the agonizing heartbreak he feels because it is too much for one person, it is, but if they don't do it...if they're not the ones running into burning buildings, parachuting into burning forests, racing toward burning cars... who will? No one wants their job. The pay is shit. The benefits are shit (well, there is a pension so that's pretty nice). The hours are fucking shit.

But the looks on their faces, like the man he resuced today...that look of hope that dawns like the day, that spurs them to hang on to their breath, to hang on to life...is enough.

#wolfstar #remus lupin #sirius black #lily potter #firefighter au #wolfstarmicrofic #accident #cw car accident #cw death of parent (past) #my fics #microfic #yes it's another one over 1k #sorry not sorry

[levithestripper]

Bite Me, Bruise Me, Love Me, Abuse Me

masterlist

warnings: hickeys, bathroom sex, oral sex [m! receiving], praise kink, steve calls billy sir, choking, breath play, impact play [spanking], mirror sex, degradation/dirty talk, aftercare.

relationship: billy hargrove/steve harrington.

characters: billy hargrove, steve harrington, eddie munson, dustin henderson, mike wheeler, will byers.

length: 2.8k || read on ao3

⤷ if you want to be added to the taglist click here

summary: after a hot summer’s day, there is no better way to end it than getting together at steve’s house to jump in his pool. billy watches the golden evening sun wash over steve flawlessly, illuminating him like some kind of god. he can’t tell whether it’s the beer or something else, but all billy knows at that moment is that he needs steve all to himself.

a/n: these two have been living in my mind rent-free for the past two weeks and this is what became of it lmao. this is for days 14, 22, and 27 of kinktober! daddy/master kink, blowjob, and degrading/dirty talk.

Laughter rang throughout Steve’s backyard, accompanied by loud splashing and screeching from the pool. Beer cans and bowls of junky snack foods littered the pool deck; the group had gone through a concerning amount, which will only grow now that the afternoon is coming to a close.

Eddie, Dustin, Mike, and Will are all in the pool together, screaming about something nerdy while dunking each other. Eddie’s hair is up in a sloppy ponytail, failing at keeping his hair even slightly dry. Mike slicked his and Will’s hair back against their foreheads, looking god awful but proud of themselves anyway. Eddie’s portable radio blasted some heavy metal song Steve didn’t know the name to.

Steve sat near the edge, his legs kicking languidly in the water. His skin is warm to the touch, halfway between a nice tan and a bright pink sunburn. The evening sun shone beautifully over him, illuminating Steve’s deep brown eyes, making them look like they were pools of amber. Dozens of new freckles adorned Steve’s back and shoulders, clustered together to look like rainclouds. Billy had to fight everything to not break out a permanent marker and start playing connect the dots.

“What are you nerds yelling about, anyways?” Steve asks, hand coming up to block the sun from his eyes. Billy sat in a lawn chair directly behind him, manspreading to a point where Steve was effectively trapped between his legs. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

Hellfire lets out a collective gasp, acting as if he claimed the sky was purple, and threatened to cut Eddie’s hair. “It doesn’t make any sense?!” Munson gawks, “What’s hard to understand about Will the Wise and his party of seasoned warriors who fight to save the souls of the innocent in the Kingdom of Mysia from an Annis Hag?!”

“The fact that I have no fucking clue of anything you just said proves my point,” Steve chuckles, taking a swig from his slightly warm beer.

“You’ll come around! They always do,” Eddie winks before turning away, returning to his sugar-rushed children.

Billy runs a hand through his curly hair, sitting up in his chair, bare chest barely brushing against the back of Steve’s hair. His hand subtly moves to the base of Steve’s neck, squeezing gently. “C’mon, Stevie, let’s go get more beers.” He tugs the hair on the back of his head, pulling him up and dragging Steve by the hand.

He staggers behind him, catching up before he gets too far away. “Billy, hold up, Jesus Christ,” Steve groans, “what’re you talking about? We already have a ton outside.” He threads his fingers with Billy’s, receiving a squeeze. Billy doesn’t answer him, entering the house and pulling Steve into the nearest bathroom.

He pushes him against the door, pinning his hands above his head by the wrist. Billy kisses him before Steve can get a word in edgewise, the kiss quickly growing desperate and needy. “Fuck, Stevie,” he groans, “you drive me fucking insane, baby.” Billy’s free hand roamed through Steve’s no-longer perfect hair, tugging on it again, drawing a low moan from him. Soon, he moves to hold the column of his neck, possessively keeping Steve still for him. “You have any fucking idea what you look like out there? Sitting at the edge of the pool so innocently, letting the sun pour over you, making you glow like a damn God,” his voice rumbles next to Steve’s ear, causing a shiver to run up the boy’s spine, a smirk spreading across Billy’s features.

“Honey—” Billy interrupts him with another kiss, effectively silencing whatever complaint Steve was bound to spout. Billy tilts his head to the side, nose pressing into Steve’s cheek as his tongue finds its way inside Steve’s mouth. Soft moans become more and more frequent from both of them, the air between them growing thick with desire. Steve manages to pull away in need of air. “Billy, honey,” he drawls, lust thick in his voice, “we don’t have time; they’ll come looking for us.” Big brown Bambi-like eyes meet crystal blue ones, leaving Billy to melt into a puddle.

“Let them find us, baby.” He kisses down Steve’s neck, sucking deep purple hickeys into his freckled skin. “Let me show you just how much I love you.” Steve’s face flushes, and he looks to a corner of the room, embarrassed. It doesn’t last long, Billy gripping his jaw tightly, his cheeks squishing together. “No, no, no, you’re not allowed to look away. Eyes on me, Stevie, you hear?”

Not trusting what filth may come out of his mouth, Steve nods.

Billy sighs, “No, no, I need to hear you say it. C’mon, pretty boy. Tell me you’ll be good for me.”

“I’ll be good—I’ll be good for you,” Steve stammers, the blush dusting his cheeks deepening. Billy’s smile is more of a smirk, but the grip on his jaw relaxes despite it. “Want you.” He grasps Billy’s hips, desperately tugging him closer, in need of everything he’s willing to give him.

Billy grinds his cock against Steve’s, reveling in the sweet moans he responds with. His hand leaves Steve’s jaw, trailing south to grab him through his swim trunks, finding him already fully hard. “Awww, Stevie,” he teases, his hand running lines up and down the imprint of his shaft. “You’re already this hard for me?”

He nods, pathetically rutting against his hand. “Mhmm,” he whimpers, returning Billy’s smoldering gaze with a desperate one of his own. “Billy, honey, please, stop teasing me!” Steve tugs at Billy’s hand, trying his best to slip it inside his trunks but failing.

“Aw, I thought you said you’d be good for me, sweetheart,” he coos, pulling his hand out from Steve’s grasp. “Thought you’d be a good boy for me.”

‘Good boy,’ echos in his head, making him feel soft and needier than he already was. “But I have been!” Steve fumbles over his words, his poor brain moving too fast for his mouth to keep up with.

Billy chuckles, fingers carding through his boyfriend’s hair soothingly. “Good boys know not to call me that, don’t they?” Steve nods, melting at the tingly sensation running through his hair and down the back of his neck. “What do you call me?”

Watching Billy’s full lips move as he talked proved too much for him to handle, leaning in for a kiss, which he got. “Mmh, I call you sir,” he groans. Not even a second after he responds, he kisses him again, and again, and again, rekindling the pace they were at before.

“That’s right, Stevie; good job.” Billy rucks up Steve’s shirt, hands spreading across his hairy chest. He pulls it up and over his head, tossing it into the sink carelessly. Steve reciprocates, making quick work of Billy’s belt and zipper, pushing the jeans down to his ankles.

Not long after, they were both naked, clothes forgotten about on the bathroom counter. Steve got down on his knees, hands running over the blond’s thick thighs. His big bambi-like eyes look up at Billy as he mouths at the tip of his already-hard cock. He’s thick and heavy on Steve’s tongue, skin salty from sweating in the hot summer air. “Taste good.”

A breathy moan escaped him, his mouth hanging open and hands tangled in Steve’s messy hair. “Yeah, honey? I taste good?” Billy teases, loving to hear him admit it.

“Mhmm, you taste so good, sir,” Steve moans out, eyes locked with Billy’s as his lips sunk halfway down his cock. He wraps a hand around what he couldn’t fit in his mouth, his head starting to bob. His wrist and mouth move in sync, knowing precisely what drives Billy crazy. The calloused pads on Billy’s forefingers rub small circles into Steve’s scalp, pressing Steve further down his shaft, not quitting, even after he starts to choke. Spit drools down Steve’s chin as he sputters, lack of oxygen making his head go fuzzy.

“Goddamn slut, slobbering over my cock like a two-penny whore,” he smirks, not letting him up for air. “’Cause that’s all you’re good for, isn’t it, Stevie?” Billy forces Steve’s head down to the root, his nose buried in coarse golden curls. “Yeah, that’s all King Steve is worth, isn’t it? Nice for a good couple of fucks until you’re just like all the other whores at our school.” Tears begin to stream down Steve’s reddened cheeks, further proving Billy’s point. “Aw,” he mocks, “you’re getting tears all over me, Stevie. That’s not very nice, now, is it?”

Steve hollows out his cheeks in a futile effort to stop himself from choking. Just as his reddened face started to deepen in color, Billy let him off his cock, reveling in the desperate gasp Steve made. The brunette’s chest heaved as he gulped down air, Billy’s dick twitching at the sight of him. “Good boy,” he hums, wiping the drool off of Steve’s chin. “Stand up for me, yeah? Hands on the door, mkay?”

He nods between the deep breaths he took, the stars sprinkled in his vision quickly dispersing. His red, bruised knees shake as he stands up, accepting Billy’s outstretched hand. “Kiss, please?” Steve asks, his voice rough and scratchy sounding.

“Of course.” Billy cups his face in his hands, gently closing the gap between them. Steve’s lips are swollen and pink, making the blond’s cock twitch against his stomach. His thumbs stroke Steve’s cheekbones, prompting Steve to press himself impossibly closer. Billy gently presses him to the door, hips grinding in tandem with one another. “Turn around,” he demands, his deep voice laden with lust and desire.

Steve is quick to obey, his hands coming up to make a pillow for his forehead, legs spread wide. Freckles are scattered along his back, trailing down his butt and continuing to the backs of his thick thighs. A pink, faded hickey is still visible on Steve’s ass, and Billy couldn’t help but smack it. Steve’s dick twitched at the slap, and he arched his back, silently begging Billy to give him something, anything.

Billy hums, staring at the heavenly curve of Steve’s spine. “Such a nice ass you got here, Harrington. It’d be a shame to leave it so plain like this.” The palm of his hand connects with Steve’s asscheek, pulling a choked yelp from him. A pink handprint blooms a few seconds later, giving Billy a target to smack next. After a few minutes, both sides are painted a pretty shade of pink and red; a subtle heat radiating from the half a dozen handprints Billy left behind.

“Fuck, Sir, please! Please, just fuck me already!” Steve whines, grinding against Billy’s cock.

He coos at him with a mocking tone, “Stevie, Stevie, Stevie, always a desperate little slut for me.” Hands run up Steve’s back and settle on the meat of his shoulders, making him shiver. Billy ruts against his already loose hole surprised to find that Steve already prepped himself. “Well, well, well, look at that,” he tsks, clicking his tongue. “Already loose for me, huh? Why is that, Harrington? You anticipated I’d drag you into your bathroom and fuck you like the cheap whore you are? Or were you just jacking off this morning, fantasizing about how I fuck you so much better than that dildo you were using?” Billy licks his teeth coyly, chewing on his bottom lip as he slides two slick fingers inside him, the other hand still glued to Steve’s shoulder.

Steve chokes out a startled moan, not expecting his fingers that quickly. “Oh god, Billy—”

“Which one was it, baby?” His fingers speed up, quickly adding a third. “C’mon, tell me, Stevie.”

“The second one!” he sputters, dick twitching as precum dribbles out from the tip, pooling on the cold tile floor. “Missed you this morning; couldn’t help myself.”

Billy’s fingers leave just as quickly as they arrived, drenched and sticky with lube. “Aww,” he teases, a smirk wide across his handsome face. He wraps a hand around his shaft, tapping the head of his cock against Steve’s winking hole. “Now, now, I’ll give you what you want, don’t worry,” Billy hums, slowly pressing inside him. Steve gasps and groans, hips pushing back on his cock, eager for more. “Yeah, that’s it, Stevie. Nothing compares to the real thing, huh? This what your pretty little ass needed?” Billy bottoms out with a harsh thrust, groaning in pleasure.

“Oh fuck, yes, just like that,” he moans, blunt nails clawing at the door. “S’deep, baby, fuck.” His chest bobs from his heavy breathing, giving away how sensitive Steve is already. Giving him minimal time to adjust, Billy pulls out halfway, only to return with intense vigor. His balls slap against Steve’s with every pounding thrust he delivers, harmonizing with the mantra of moans and high-pitched gasps pouring from the brunette’s mouth.

The hinges on the door rattle, giving away their secret if anyone were to hear. “Aww, this is just what you needed, isn’t it, baby? Just needed a good plowing to fix all your problems, isn’t that right?” Billy cards a hand through Steve’s sweaty hair, gripping it tightly and tugging. He pulls Steve off the door, forcing his back to arch further, bringing their faces close together. Billy’s tongue darts out to lick the shell of Steve’s ear, a shiver wracking through him again. “Go on an’ tell me how you feel, sweetheart.” He turns Steve to the right, forcing him to stare at himself in the mirror. “Look so good for me, Stevie.”

Steve took in their reflections. Sweat trickled down both of their hairlines; their faces flushed a matching shade of dark red. Steve’s bangs bounce with every thrust before eventually getting stuck to his damp forehead. “S’good, Billy—Sir,” he corrects himself. “Fuck, yes, just like that! Please don’t stop,” Steve begs, eyes threatening to roll into the back of his head. Billy sucks another hickey into his neck, eyes never leaving the mirror. “Oh my God, oh my God, Billy! Right there, right there, right there!”

Billy adjusts himself to hit that spot with every thrust. “Found it,” he mumbles to himself, hips speeding up considerably. The sound of skin slapping skin fills the bathroom, mixing with their moans to create a lustful song meant only for them. Precum oozes from Billy’s cock, creating a small, white ring around the base of his cock. Steve’s followed suit, the pool on the tiles growing steadily. “Cum whenever you want, honey,” he whispers in his ear, smirking at how Steve clenched around his cock in response.

“Billy, Billy, Billy, baby, oh my lord, I’m so close!” he cries, returning his thrusts. His hands dig into the expensive marble countertops, desperate for any kind of stability he could find. “Don’t—Don’t stop! Don’t sto—stop, please!” Steve’s eyebrows furrow together, his face morphing into one of pure ecstasy. His whole body shook as his orgasm washed over him, Billy’s muscled arms holding him steady as he fucked him through it. Steve’s spunk dripped down the equally as expensive wooden cabinets, his cock twitching even after his orgasm ended.

It wasn’t long before Billy came as well, shooting his load deep inside Steve’s ass. He doesn’t pull out right away, allowing them to revel in the afterglow. Billy litters Steve’s back with chaste kisses, reeling him back down to earth. “Fuck, baby,” Steve groans, turning his head to kiss him. He turns around fully, Billy’s cock slipping out unceremoniously. Cum slowly starts to drip down his thighs, leaving him to shift around uncomfortably. “Love you so much.”

Billy’s hands ran through Steve’s hair as they kissed. For once, nothing else in the world mattered but them. Nothing mattered other than how long they could kiss, how long they could cuddle, and how long they could stay enveloped in each other’s worlds. “Love you so, so much more, baby,” he whispers, their noses bumping. “Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” Steve nods, placing another kiss on his lips before they part.

Billy dampens a washcloth in warm water, gently cleaning the half-dried cum from Steve’s thighs. “Didn’t go too far, did I?”

“No,” he shakes his head, chest warm with affection. “I’d tell you if you did. You don’t need’ta worry, honey.” Steve kisses his cheek reassuringly. Billy pumps lotion onto his hands, massaging it gently onto Steve’s sore butt.

He smiles at his response, leaning down to grab Steve’s swim trunks. “I know, I know.” Steve steps into his trunks, letting Billy dress him. Once the drawstrings are tied in a pretty blue bow, Billy pulls up his own pants, loosely buckling his belt. They forgo their shirts, both way too hot to warrant putting them on. Billy’s large hands roam the expanse of Steve’s soft, freckled stomach, enraptured by his boyfriend’s beauty.

Steve cups Billy’s cheek, mystified over the sheer amount of beauty Billy holds. “Feel like staying the night? We can order pizza, rent a few tapes. How’s that sound?”

“Sounds amazing,” he hums, turning his head to kiss the palm of his hand. “Let’s go before someone comes looking for us.” Steve nods in agreement. Reluctantly, Billy peels himself from his lover, opening the door for him and closing it behind them after they leave.

taglist: @its-deputy-caleb, @ban-canram

#billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove x steve harrington #harringrove #billy x steve #stranger things #eddie munson #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #will byers #character x character #billy hargove imagine #steve harrington imagine #steve stranger things #billy stranger things #eddie stranger things #harringrove smut

[casual-assassin17]

My Roommate is The Monkey King! Chapter One

(This is the first chapter of my latest story. I hope you all enjoy it! Also, I hope that I portrayed Sun Wukong as accurately as possible. Feel free to leave feedback and comments!)

I really hate my job. I’m sure everyone has said or thought that same sentence before. However, I really mean it. Retail work is never easy, especially with a customer that is upset about his new credit card not giving him his promised 20% off. I sighed softly as I look at the man. “Sir, normally you would’ve only saved about $200 with your bulk savings. But since you used the card, you saved an additional $121.96.”

“No, no. You said I would save big. I should be saving over $400! Are you calling me stupid?!” Clearly, he wasn’t being very cooperative. Sure, I probably could’ve explained the card better to him, but he’s now being unfair. I could feel my blood beginning to boil. 

‘I need to calm down… If I blow up on this guy, I’m gonna lose my job.’ I took a breath to calm down and tried again. “I understand, sir, However our cards have a certain limit to–”

He shoved his finger at my face. “Ah, so you messed up! You didn’t tell me that! If you had told me that, I wouldn’t have gotten that bullshit card!” My blood was really boiling now. I could feel my hands clenching tightly as I try to keep my temper under control. He kept rambling on but I tuned him out. I understood that this was a frustrating task for all of us, but he didn’t have to be a total jerk about it. I’m just trying to do my job and he’s throwing a temper tantrum about not saving $100 more. I just wanted to kick his carts of doors and painted planks over and make him pick it all up by himself. I wanted to beat him into the ground… But I’m a pushover and just let him rant. After all, “the customer is always right”... Bullshit.

After that fiasco, I began to get ready to clock out for the night. I was absolutely done with dealing with that guy and wanted to just go home and probably scream into my empty apartment. As I was grabbing my car keys, I heard the break room TV playing the news channel and I looked over at the screen. The newscaster talked about a strange weather pattern that was heading towards the city of Fairbanks and I tilted my head. Strange weather isn’t exactly new to us Alaskans. We get scorching heat in the summer months, 24/7 sunlight as well. In the winter, the weather makes it feel like we are living in Siberia, Russia and 2:00pm would look like 10 at night. Like I said, we’re used to it. However, the weather pattern on the screen told a different story. “Weird… I had no idea that Alaska would get a hurricane.” I whispered to myself.

“That’s not a hurricane, James.” A coworker told me, boredly scrolling through his phone. “If you ask me, that’s more like a storm cloud…”

I raised an eyebrow as I looked at him. ‘How did he hear me?’ “How is that a storm cloud?” I then shake my head, already feeling exhaustion taking hold of me. “Forget it… I am too tired to argue.”

“Was it that bad?”

“Worse… Some Russian guy was arguing with me about his new credit card…”

He chuckled at that. “Yeah… We humans are a greedy bunch.” He then got up and stretched. “Man, I’m beat… I’m gonna head to McDonald’s before I head home. Good thing they don’t close until midnight… You wanna come with?”

The offer was very tempting and my stomach agreed. “As much as I wanna say ‘yes’, I can’t. I gotta get home and do some stuff. Maybe next time, Mac.”

Mac nodded with a shrug. “Your loss, but I get it. Take care, James…” He then walked away, his long black hair trailing behind him. I chuckled softly before following suit, clocking out and heading to my car. As I walked to my car, I put on my noise-cancelling headphones, turned them on, connected them to my phone, and began to listen to AI covers of popular songs. I had to admit that some of them were really good. Who knew that Sonic could sing “Billie Jean” so well? I got into my car, started it, buckled up, then began the drive home. My stomach growled at me and I sighed softly. ‘Damn it, Mac. You made me hungry…’ I pull into the nearest fast food restaurant, which happened to be McDonald’s, and ordered some food. The smell of the golden arches’ famous fries filled the car and I could feel my stomach growling more. I reached over to grab some fries from the bag, but stopped. “...I can wait until I get home.” I hated waiting to eat, but I also didn’t want to get into a car accident for a handful of fries.

Suddenly, I hear thunder and I look at the road ahead of me. “Looks like Mac was right, as always… I swear, he just knows everything.” I continue to drive, noting the color of the occasional lightning. I was confused as to why they were yellow-orange instead of the usual color. I am snapped out of my thoughts by my phone ringing and I knew it was my twin sister. I answer her call. “Hey, sis. I clocked out already and I’m heading home.”

“Okay, but just be safe. The storm looks like it’s getting worse and I worry about you.” She told me. I loved how caring she was and it made me feel a tad better. “Also, I have some leftover baked goods from the cafe. We had to get rid of them before they got stale, so I took a few.”

I smiled at that and chuckled. “Thanks, Melody… You’re the best.” I look out my window and saw a lightning bolt hit near the car. The sudden lightning startled me and caused me to swerve off the road, crashing through a metal fence and into a clearing. The car made sputtering sounds before it turned itself off. I tried to restart it, but the car was officially dead. My heart was beating rapidly from the lightning jumpscare and I took deep breaths to try and relax. “H-holy crap… I almost got struck by lightning!”

Melody was still on the call. “Oh my God, are you okay?!”

I nodded as I relaxed finally. “Yeah… Yeah, I’m good. The car is dead, though…”

“Where are you at? I’ll head over as soon as I can.” 

I looked around to see anything noticeable. “I’m near Celebration Ranch, about five or ten minutes away from the house.”

Melody sighed through the phone. “I know where that is. Stay there and I’ll come get you.” She then hung up and I pocketed my phone. I sat on the hood of the car and huffed softly, a bit miffed that I got into an accident. The only plus side to my situation currently was that I was still alive. As I waited for Melody, the thunder grew louder and closer. I looked at the sky and saw that the storm was right above me. My eyes widened and I went to get into the car, but a massive lightning bolt struck the car and I was blown back, electricity coursing through my body. I hit the grass-covered ground and my vision went black for a second. It’s one thing to hear about people getting struck by lightning… but it’s another thing to actually get struck by lightning. My vision was blurry, I couldn’t hear anything but the sound of my ears ringing, it was hard to breathe all of a sudden, and my body felt like I got hit with a flamethrower. I soon regained my sight and hearing and slowly stood up, coughing and wheezing as my breathing was still jacked up. I look over at the car and all that was left of it was a massive crater. 

‘So much for calling a tow truck…’ I went to check to see if my phone was alright, when I noticed… light. It was coming from the crater. I walked towards the edge of the crater, holding my burnt side with whatever was left of my tattered shirt. When I looked over the edge, I saw… some kind of monkey man. He wore some weird armor and had a quarterstaff in his hand. I slid down towards the man and went to nudge him with my foot. “Hello? Can you hear me?” No response… I went to pick up his staff only to realize that it somehow weighed a lot more than I thought. I couldn’t even lift it! “Jesus!! What kind of staff is this?!” I looked back at the man and frowned. ‘...What do I do now? I can’t just leave him here… Wait, yes I can! I don’t know him, so why should I even bother?’ I went to leave… but I stopped and looked back at him. I groaned in annoyance. “Curse my altruism…” I walked back to him, knelt at his side and pressed my hands over his chest before starting to perform CPR. “C’mon… C’mon, wake up!” I went to breathe air into his mouth but saw his eyes pop open and we both scrambled back with a yell.

He stood up and pointed the staff at me. “Hey!! What were you trying to do to me?!”

I was surprised at how easily he wielded the staff, but I ignored it for now. “Me?! What were you doing a crater?! I had to resusitate you because I thought you were dead!!”

To my surprise, he only laughed at that. “Me? Dead? You are too funny, human! I can’t die because I am immortal!” He then planted the staff into the ground, jumped onto the top of it, then began to examine his surroundings. “Hmm… This isn’t Fruit Flower Mountain, nor is it Heaven…” He scratched his head in true monkey fashion before pointing at me. “You! What realm is this?!”

I blinked in surprise. “Realm? Wait, wait, wait… Did you say ‘Heaven’?! You’re not an angel nor are you Jesus!”

The man raised an eyebrow at me. “What? Do you have any idea who I am? I mean, really think about it…” He then jumped down and gave me a smirk. “I’m sure it’ll click…”

I began to think, forgetting about my pain from the lightning. “...A cosplayer?”

The man’s face practically dropped before he huffed. “You really don’t know?! I am The Great Sage Equal To Heaven! Vanquisher of Demons! I am… The Monkey King! Sun Wukong!!” He pointed at himself, staring at me as if expecting something.

A few seconds have passed before I spoke again. “...Cool.”

His eyes widened. “What?! That’s all you have to say about that?! ‘Cool’?! I am more than just ‘cool’!! I am–”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah… Anyway, if you’re some celestial being or whatever, why are you here?” I asked him.

Wukong chuckled as he leaned against his planted staff. “Well, if you must know, I was just doing my usual duties of being Monkey King. Defending Fruit Flower Mountain, killing demons, having fun…” He then frowned as he used a finger to dig into his ear. “But then, I get summoned to Heaven and Ne Zha was there, as usual. We got into an argument, not my fault by the way, and one thing led to another. Next thing I know, I am being banished to this realm by the Jade Emperor! Everything I have done for the Gods and the Buddha, yet all I get is banished…”

I gave him an unimpressed look. “Based on your behavior, I can see why they banished you.” Apparently, that was not the right choice of words as that only seemed to piss him off. He let out a screech and jumped at me, causing me to yelp in surprise. We then began to wrestle in the crater. Now, I would lie and say that I was totally winning the impromptu fight… but let’s be real, I am not some pro fighter nor have I ever been in an actual fight before. Wukong absolutely destroyed me, ending with him standing on top of me while I laid on the dirt. I groaned in pain and coughed. “...Okay, lesson learned: Do not piss off the monkey…”

Wukong nodded with a puff of his chest. “That’s right! I am The Monkey King! I have never been bested by any demon nor mortal! You can’t even possibly–” I then hear the sound of some kind of aerosol and Wukong screaming and yelling in pain. His weight disappeared from my back and I look to see him clutching his face and writhing on the ground. Melody stood over him in her cafe uniform, holding a can of pepper spray. 

She helped me to my feet. “Are you okay? Who is that?”

I cough a bit and dust myself off. “Apparently, that is Sun Wukong… He got banished here, and he totally mopped the floor with me.”

Melody nodded and helped me to her car, then went back and was dragging Sun Wukong into the car. He was still writhing in pain, cussing us out, and practically promised to kill us when he could see again. I kinda felt bad but shrugged it off as Melody drove us back home. I'm sure he'll be fine... Probably.

#sun wukong #my work #my roommate is the monkey king #my story #my ocs

[im-tops-bottom]

anon asked for "Say No To This but make it Jamilton"...now I know you wanted a fic but I said fuck it I can't think of anything so I rewrote the song instead. for your reading pleasure...please note I accidentally deleted your question instead of replying (my bad) also please note that this will not go to the beat very well if at all so don't sing it...

Narrator (N): There's nothing like summer in the city

Someone under stress meets someone looking pretty

There's trouble in the air, you can smell it

And Jefferson's by himself, I'll let him tell it

Jefferson (TJ): I hadn't slept in a week

I was weak, I was awake

You've never seen a bastard secretary more in need of a break

Longing for a cat

Missing my wife

That's when Alexander Hamilton walked into my life, he said

Hamilton (AH): I know you are a man of honor

I'm so sorry to bother you at home

But I don't know where to go, and I came here all alone

TJ: He said

AH: My works doin' me wrong

killin' me, losin' sleep, frustratin' me

Suddenly I'm up and gone

I don't have the means to go on

TJ: So I offered him to help, I offered to walk him home, he said

AH: You're too kind, sir

TJ: I gave him a coat that I had locked away

He lived a block away, he said

AH: This one's mine, Jeffershit

TJ: Then I said, "fuck you, I'mma head back home"

He turned red, he led me to his bed

Let his legs spread and said

AH: Stay

TJ: Hey

AH: Hey

TJ: That's when I began to pray

Lord, show me how to say no to this

I don't know how to say no to this

But my God, he looks so helpless

And his body's saying, "Hell, yes"

AH: Whoa

TJ: No, show me how to say no to this

I don't know how to say no to this

In my mind, I'm tryin' to go

Jefferson's conscious (JC): go, go, go

TJ: Then his mouth is on mine, and I don't say

JC: No, no (say no to this)No, no (say no to this)No, no (say no to this)No, no (say no to this)

TJ: I wish I could say that was the last time

I said that last time, it became a pastime

A month into this endeavor I received a letter

From a Mr John Laurens, even better, it said

John Laurens (JL): Dear Sir, I hope this letter finds you in good health

And in a prosperous enough position to put wealth

In the pockets of people like me down on their luck

You see, that was my husband who you decided to

TJ: fuuuu...

JL: Uh oh, you made the wrong sucker a cuckold

So time to pay the piper for the pants you unbuckled

And hey, you can keep seein' my whore guyIf the price is right, if not I'm telling your wife

TJ: I hid the letter and I raced to his place

Screamed, "How could you?" In his face, he said

AH: No, sir

TJ: Half dressed, apologetic, a mess, he looked pathetic, he cried

AH: Please don't go, sir

TJ: So was your whole story a setup?

AH: I don't know about any letterTJ: stop crying God dammit, get up

AH: I didn't know any better

TJ: I am ruined

AH: Please don't leave me with this helpless TJ: I am helpless how could I do this?

AH: Just give him what he wants and you can have me

TJ: I don't want you

AH: Whatever you want

TJ: I don't want you

AH: If you pay

TJ: I don't

AH: You can stay...

TJ; Lord, show me how to say no to thisI don't know how to say no to thisBut this situation's helpless

AH: helpless

TJ: And his body's screaming, "Hell, yes"

AH: Whoa

TJ: No, show me how to say no to this

Jamilton: How can I (you) say no to this?

TJ: There is nowhere I can go

JC: go, go, go

TJ: When his body's on mine I do not say JC: No...

Jamilton: Yes...

JC: Say no to this...

Jamilton: Say no to this, I don't say no to this

TJ: There is nowhere I can go

JC: go, go, go

JL: So?

TJ: Nobody needs to know...

#Jamilton #Lams #Qanon

[shadow-daughter]

The Essential Questions

[When a child goes missing, certain questions must be asked.]

[Approach the question of Why with caution.]

[It is never a pretty story.]

{trigger warnings: alcoholism, child endangerment, suicidal ideation, unreliable narrator}

Who?

The screen is lit a garish green by the toxic smog in the larger photo, overshadowing the thumbnail in the corner. Leather creaks, an impatient eye scanning over the news clipping open on another screen. A lip curls up towards a nostril in a nasty twist, tongue clicking against pearly teeth.

"Who did we send that abomination after, again, Sandra?"

"Abominate, sir," comes the response from the corner. "And it's Sarah," follows the mutter, soft enough to ignore. "I believe you sent him after the Mason girl, sir."

"You believe." Mocking. "Yes, because I'm paying you for your stellar intuition. The contract, Samantha, check it. Honestly, how hard is it to confirm a thing?" A scoff, as he shakes his head, spinning his chair to face the window. "The Mason girl. What was her name, Margaret?" "Magnolia, sir." "Right, Marigold. Who was supposed to be keeping a eye on that one, then?"

There's no crude shuffling of papers; the tap of a silicone stylus tip against a tablet is all but silent. Loading screens have replaced the old waiting of searching through the papers. "According to the files, she was left in the custody of her father; one Joshua Mason. Pharmaceutical technician."

"Send for him. And whoever it was in charge of that project. Conference room Four, D, I think. The brights are working in that one, aren't they?" "Yes, sir." "Get to it, then! What are you waiting for?"

When?

The lights of the conference room, directly overhead, feel blinding. Sweat trickles down the back of Joshua's neck; somewhere behind him, the ventilation makes a clanking noise, a groaning hum. Motor's going, he doesn't mean to identify, in the back of his mind; he can't help it- he's heard that sound five summers in a row now, tried to fix it for three; easier to replace than to fix but who has that kind of money? --they do, why haven't they?

Papers shuffle; tap against the desk with a solid enough thnk to get his attention. His gaze snaps across the table, hand dropping from tugging at the collar of his shirt to fold in front of him.

"Mister Mason. Relax, would you?" Absolutely not. Unease is a prickle along the back of his neck, hair standing on end. "You aren't in trouble." Yet. "We just have some questions, about your family. For our records, of course."

We.

The man sitting near his superior must be one of the research scientists. It would explain the lab coat; the blue gloves. Joshua tries not to think about the stethoscope-- who even casually wears a stethoscope, what kind of sick power play is this-- or the tablet. Or the lingering familiarity; the photo on the wall of his daughter's pediatrician. In the pharmacy where he works. The nametag; the name on a label. It's not a coincidence. It could be a coincidence.

He needs to stop tugging at his collar. Awful habit, awful tell. As if they need it to see through the fake smile he's plastered on, leaning back in his seat. As if they can't see right through him, anyway.

"Of course."

Leather creaked across the room. His boss- his bosses boss?- sips at a glass of iced tea, a breeze disturbing the ends of his hair. He doesn't need to shuffle papers; he has a tablet, something fancy. Sleek, lightweight, collapsible. The papers are an accessory. Another power play.

You don't need them. He can't scream at his boss. You already have me between a rock and a hard place. Just say what you want to say. He Cannot Scream At His Boss.

The picture slid across the table to him makes him want to.

"Let's start with your daughter."

Let's not. His tie is too tight; he knew he should have stopped messing with it. His mouth feels dry, suddenly. "Maggie?" It's too light; it's too sharp. Too loud; he flinches away from the sound of his own voice, laughing nervously as he tugs at his tie. "I don't know why you'd need to know about her. I mean. She's a good kid."

"She's a good kid." Some smiles don't feel friendly. The one turned on Joshua now doesn't; tight at the corners, a single eyebrow arching over narrowing eyes. "I'm sure. Tell me more about her, anyway." Rubber taps against glass; swipes across the screen. "How long have you been homeschooling her?"

Breathe. "Sir?" Breathe. "Pardon?"

A tap across the screen. "Well, I'd hope you're homeschooling her, anyway. There's no enrollment records for this year or the last in your district for her. We checked, of course." That smile, smug and sly again. "In the interest of thoroughness."

Breathe. They don't know. There's a drumbeat in his skull like a warning march, as he forces a smile, dragging his hand down his tie. "Yes. Well." They don't know. "We thought she could use a more tailored experience, you know? Some more personal attention."

(More personal attention wouldn't have changed anything. Or would it have? Would she still be home, if they really had pulled her out to homeschool her?) (It doesn't matter.) (It doesn't.)

"You've been told before of Crey's educational benefits program for employees. Why not take advantage of it?"

"We didn't believe we qualified, sir."

A low laugh feels like a trap being set. "I see. Is that why you stopped using your medical benefits, then? Because you didn't believe you qualified?"

"Sir?" Drumming grows to pounding; if he slows down enough to count it, he's pretty sure he could measure his pulse by the racing in his throat. "I'm not sure what you mean?" A lie. He knows exactly what he means; the doctor is here for a reason.

He won't look.

"Your employee medical benefits, mister Mason. You and your wife haven't changed doctors. Why hasn't your daughter come in for her vaccinations?" The doctor hasn't spoken, yet. Disdain drips from his voice like venom as he does now, each word chosen as careful as a scalpel. "You knew you qualified enough to get your own vaccinations."

Sweat rolls down the curve of his jaw, light as a finger across his throat. He breaks. His gaze pulls away from the VIP for a moment, to settle on the doctor- the doctor, looking down his nose at him, nostrils scrunched like he's smelling something fail. Joshua tugs his tie again. Shifts his gaze back to the VIP. Feels the trap he'd seen being set close in around him, with the disdainful smile he receives.

"You know how this has to look, mister Mason. Your daughter stops going to school, stops seeing a doctor, while you and your wife carry on like nothing has changed at all--" Sly and slick, smugly superior. The files slide across the table, to rest in front of him. "--we want to help you. But you're going to have to be honest with us."

"Mister Mason."

No. Please don't ask.

"How long has your daughter been missing from home?"

Why?

The house is too quiet, these days. It makes the little noises so loud. The droning buzz of the flies over the garbage; the dripping kitchen faucet, the high pitched ring of the microwave. Turn the TV up to drown it out; take another drink, like she could drown her thoughts.

(She can't. Not when she can't pull her eyes away from the fly buzzing around the room, bouncing off the ceiling. Landing on a child's tacked up drawing, yellowed with cigarette smoke, speckled with bug shit.)

(Watch it fly away again, bounce off the ceiling again. Tangle it's wings in the spiderwebs dangling off the ceiling fan.)

(Had she felt like that, her little girl? Like a fly bouncing off of obstacles, trapped, doomed?)

(Don't think about it. Take another drink.)

(Tastes like horse piss.)

God. The house is too fucking quiet. Just-- shut up- just shut up.

Shut up. Drown it the fuck out. Drown it.

Stop fucking thinking about it.

God. What fucking good does it do.

God. Fucking. Why.

Why. Why her baby girl. Why her angel.

(You fucking know why. You fucking know why, Miriam.)

Drown it.

(She wouldn't have run without a damn good plan.)

(She wouldn't have run unless she thought she had a damn good reason.)

(She'd never complained about the fucking roaches.)

(Didn't even jump at the damn spiders.)

(Didn't fuss about her pets not being let inside. Didn't throw a fit about those vet visits they never made.)

(Didn't even whine about the fucking binder.)

(God. She should have fucking realized it couldn't last.)

(Fucking idiot.)

(This isn't helpful.)

(What the hell are you doing.)

(What the hell are you fucking doing, Miriam.)

(Your mother didn't raise you this way.)

(Hell do you think she'd say, she were here today?)

(Raising her grandbaby in this mold crusted shithole.)

(Losing her grandbaby to the fucking spiders.)

(And the hell is she doing about it?)

(Same fucking thing she always fucking does.)

(Getting drunk about it.)

Drown it.

(Drown yourself, bitch.)

Drown it.

(Yeah, how's that fucking working for you?)

Drown.

(Better off with no mom than one like you.)

It.

(She thought it too. Why else would she fucking leave.)

OUT.

"Shut up. Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up! Shut the fuck up! Shut up!" Something's burning in her lungs, something feels like it's tearing in her throat. "SHUT UP!"

Something crashes against the far wall, and she doesn't realize it's the bottle until her arm is already burning from over extension, and the pieces are scattered all across the carpet, cheap beer soaking into cheap synthetic fibers and fuck if that doesn't just feel like her entire fucking life.

God. Now she's fucking crying. God fucking damn it. Because-- because that's fucking helpful, right, because crying over spilled beer is any less pathetic than crying over spilled milk--- except no, that's right! It's more fucking pathetic. And she threw the fucking bottle her fucking self, so what fucking right does she have to fucking cry over it, anyway?

(It's not over the fucking beer, Miriam.)

"Shut up," Miriam hisses through her teeth as she grabs up a wad of not-totally-filthy-yet napkins, stomping over to the offensive puddle with a desperate fury. "Shut the fuck up. I'm not listening to you anymore tonight. Piss off. Come back when you have something fucking useful to say."

(Something useful, like-?)

"I said. Shut up."

(You're fucking crazy, talking to yourself. You know that, right?)

"Shut up. What part of shut up don't you fucking understand."

(You know what would make me really shut up for good?)

"I'm not fucking listening to you. I'm not listening! Lalala, I'm not listening!"

(This. This is why your daughter fucking left, Miriam.)

"Shut up already!"

(You're lucky Joshua isn't here to see this.)

"You aren't even fucking real. Shitty internal fucking monologue."

(Real original, cursing every sentence.)

"Yeah, well, fuck you too!"

(Haven't you got a better word than fuck?)

"Shitty internal monologues don't get to police my fucking language!" The laugh that pushes itself free is unanticipated-- but once the first giggle bubbles out, she can't hold back the ones that follow. Breathless, hysterical, guttering guffaws that peter out into hiccupping giggles. "You aren't fucking real."

"You," she repeats, voice softening to something approaching level. Maybe it's oxygen deprivation from laughing and sobbing and screaming making her giddy. Maybe it's the alcohol, numbing her again for a moment. "Aren't fucking real."

She giggles again, wheezing into a hiccup. Her ankles feel like they're tilting under her feet- like she'll fall if she doesn't sit now, and so she does, dropping down onto the sodden carpet on the floor with a wheezing giggle. It is still a giggle, right? It's just-- it's just, her eyes are burning again, and her face feels wet, and she's still hiccupping, and it's.

It's getting a little hard to tell.

(Why are you on the floor?)

"Because you aren't fucking real." She hiccups, and she either sobs or she giggles, and her face is stretching so wide it hurts, and she's not sure if it's grinning or screaming that's making it feel that way. "Because you aren't fucking real, it's me, it's just-- me, it's always been fucking me, and--"

(and?)

"And god help me. God, fucking help me. Please."

(Why?)

(You already drank all of your miracles away.)

Where?

The last late-staying customers of the night filter out the doors into the cold morning air, stumbling back against light that might as well burn. Some of them might regret their choices, already. Maybe just staying out until dawn. Maybe that last wine spritzer was unnecessary.

The hands they meet, helping them into chauffeured cars, are hired, of course. Bought with family loyalty, bought with family money, bought with illicitly gained goods-- but bought, all the same.

Others won't leave tonight. Some might not leave at all. A castle to avarice, a monument to greed- and oh, isn't that draw, just to some, stronger than any pressing need? To walk out of heaven, back into hell- no, it's no wonder they might balk at such a fall.

A kingdom of lies, but isn't it nice, to be courted by an illusion? Chase your dreams, they all say-- tucked away in a corner of Mercy's bay, last night's guests stumble away from that dream today.

A boat ride away, armored men in uniform pick their way through underground ruins. A flashlight lingers over a hand-welded sign, long enough for a camera to flash. Someone else is already photographing the ruined doorway, the crumpled sheet metal and broken concrete.

Someone's studiously not reacting to the stench rising from the fish scattered across the ground, smeared under rubble, impaled on glass. Someone has already called biohazard to the sight. The remains will be bagged and tagged in a few minutes. What's left will be incinerated tonight.

Beady eyes stare out from the remnants of the mouse cage. They're gone, when someone looks back to them-- just a lonely pile of old straw bedding, missing the toys that used to decorate it.

If they're smart, they'll wonder where all the animals that are supposed to be here have gone. If they're smart, they'll have wondered who would have risked the Geiger activity to come down here, bypassing spooks and nosy news crews.

They won't get answers any time convenient. But they'll wonder.

On a ferry pulling out of a Port Oakes Bay, a Bane Spider who really deserves more sleep than they usually get will open a bag of take-out this morning, and find that there's a sleeve of soft cookies in there this morning, decorated in black and orange seasonal icing to have spiders on their front. Halloween has already past- but the local bakers still have a stock of pre-dyed frosting to use up, it seems.

The air over the waters outside of Port Oakes will be cold, this morning. But the cookies will be still warm out of the oven in their paper sleeve, and the coffee will be fresh and hot enough to still be steaming after having a half cup of creamer upended into it, and, for a moment, at least, the sunrise will be bright, over the waters of Port Oakes.

The last of the morning crowd will be gone, by the time that sunrise has crept up over the roof of that club. No one will lay eyes on the small figure in the red hood who comes in through the back, except for an exasperated guard at the door. No one will tell her that she's too young to be in a place like this.

The elevator ride will feel long. She'll be half asleep on her feet by the time the doors open. By the time she makes it down the hall, to the second to last door on the right, she'll be tracing her path by feel, eyes too heavy to keep them open.

The room will be too dark to see when she comes in, after the closing door cuts away the beam of light that bounces off the floor to ceiling mirrors. She'll find her way to the bed by feel, not by sight; drawn by the cool warmth put off by a small shape already present.

She'll wrap around a fox like he's a teddy bear, and be asleep nearly before her head has hit the pillow. She won't think to wonder, later, who covered her with a forgotten blanket in her sleep. She won't be awake, to know which of the two potentials it might have been. She won't particularly care, in the end.

A bird beds down to nest in the fox's den, tucked away at the outskirts of the spider's web. In the heart of the flames, where she feels secure and safe, a child will dream. A company will search. A mother will pray. A field operative will wonder.

A child will sleep, unaware of the people searching for her-- and the only holders of the answer, disinclined to share.

#magnolia mason #my writing #my fiction #City of Heroes #The Essential Questions #hopeful ending