#And here I was thinking Bill was a garbage can but no!!

[tswwwit]

Hello, I’m a very shy anon with many thoughts. 😣You don’t have to reply if this is too much!!

After reading the Book of Bill, I feel like your characterization of him remains impressively accurate! My view of Bill has changed slightly due to further emotional insight (which was shocking) but I think that the way you have written him with Dipper is really how he’d actually be if he managed to be in such a relationship, in that kind of universe, with that kind of development. Even more so now that we know a lot more about his backstory (his baby photo is so cute). And of course, you have always nailed his chaotic energy, humor, and Dipper’s awkward but lovable nerd self perfectly.

I love how we got so much juicy info and content about his love life, exes, his henchmen, *everything*! So many emotional curveballs too. This triangle completely spilt his guts out and felt so betrayed for it. I’ve gotten so attached to Bill as a character that I definitely felt sadness and bittersweetness with certain parts, and with his canon ending…so I’m glad to have your writing to tide me over. I’m sensitive and struggle to handle things like angst without a happy ending, gah. 😂 I mean I knew a happy ending was never in the cards, Bill is one messed up, broken being and he really got everything coming for him. Your Familiar AU! Bill has truly got it so nice, can he even fathom how good he’s got it?!

I guess overall, what I want to say is that the book was amazing and made me appreciate your writing even more!! I genuinely only use tumblr to read your works. Your fics have me loyal to BillDip forever, and nothing can change that even with the immense and *very* interesting details we gained about Bill and Ford lol. I’m just in too deep with these two! Apologies for gushing this much

Thank you so much for all your kind words! The Book of Bill was truly a blessing upon all fans and it brought so, so much fun material to dig through. Familiar AU Bill has NO IDEA how good he's got it, all things considered!

And you would not believe the sigh of relief I let out once I finished! I was fretting about how off my characterization was going to be after this, but ha! I'm not really all that off in my Bill portrayal after all!

Well. I was wrong about one thing.

He's a picky eater. 😔

[cuntwrap--supreme]

Not needing to, my mom went to a food bank.... and then proceeded to throw away 90% of what she was given because it's "poor people food." Is this grounds for murder?

[mommywandas]

Pretty When You Sleep — W.M

——

Pairing: Dark!WandaMaximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Nights are lot more dangerous than you think.

Warnings: noncon/dubcon, somnophilia, drugging, blood, murder, stalking, mentions of a knives, strap-on.

Word count: 2.9k

A/N: This is a very dark and heavy fic, if you find any of the warnings triggering, please do not read. Happy Halloween! 18+ only. Men dni.

Beta read by @poulengp <3

——

It started off small.

All the shoes you left in a mess by the door now neatly stacked up, laces undone, just so they were easier to slip on. The lamp you'd accidently leave on before falling asleep, being off when you woke up in the morning. Clothes that were dumped on the floor, suddenly folded up in your drawer.

Then it got weirder.

Your purse being filled with fifty dollar bills on the mornings you worried you wouldn't have enough to afford your groceries. Some of your clothes, specifically underwear, going missing. Your phone being in the other room when you woke up. Waking up with different pyjama bottoms on.

As it got worse, you found yourself confiding in your friend. Well, a little more than a friend, but the two of you had never labelled it. The two of you sat in the corner of a local cafe, coffee warming up your hands. It was a cool autumn day, causing you to wrap up in a scarf and fluffy coat. This crimson coloured scarf had suddenly appeared in your closet, right when you needed it. It should have been wrong to wear something that had inexplicably appeared in your home, but it was cold, and what else were you to do?

"It's just getting weird. Even the leftovers in my fridge that were about to be mouldy are being thrown away. I see it in my garbage bag. And you know me, I don't even throw it out until it's literally gone blue."

Erin laughed, "You're quite careless. And disgusting." Yes, you were, but that wasn't the point!

"Shush. I'm actually worried here. I'm starting to think.. no.. no one can be breaking into my apartment every night, I'd wake up and hear them. God, I think I'm going mad." You mumbled, hand gripping tightly around the coffee mug. It reminded you of the time you'd left a cold cup of tea on the side, and had fallen asleep. When you woke up an hour later, the cup was hot, as if it had just been warmed up again.

"You've added another lock to your door, you don't even have a spare key for it. It's impossible for someone to break in. And you live on the top floor. Honey, you've been exhausted recently, it's not uncommon for people to get forgetful. You probably did those things while sleepy." Erin reassured you, placing a hand over yours.

You sighed deeply, downing the last drops of drink you had left, Erin doing the same. "Yeah, you're probably right. It's just.. strange."

—

As you entered your apartment late at night, instead of throwing your keys carelessly on a table, you decided to tuck them in the nightstand by your bed. Just to be safe, even if it was just for your own peace of mind. You jumped into the shower, cracking open the window so the steam could be let out. You lived on the top floor of your block, no one could look in, which was always a good thing because your bathroom got very steamy, recently the ceiling paper even curling at the side from the condensation. Making a mental note to look up the prices for someone to redecorate.

You really needed a shower today, you and Erin had gotten a little.. excited earlier, and it always made you cringe not showering before bed after an evening of sex. Under the warm water, you hummed a song you'd had stuck in your head all day. It was a song you didn't even recognise, in fact you weren't even sure you'd heard it before. All you knew was that it was in a different language, and it was comforting.

Once clean, you felt overwhelmingly tired, it had been a long day, so you decided to go straight to bed after having your usual cup of camomile tea, with two spoons of sugar. Then you got into bed. Before you could doze off though, you decided to read for a bit, opening up your latest novel of your favourite author. It can't have been too exciting though, because you fell asleep before the first chapter was over.

When dawn broke, the early sun breaking through cracks in your window, you stirred, blinking a few times. Something felt strange, like every morning for the past few months. You felt a stickiness between your thighs, and your pyjama bottoms were definitely not the ones you fell asleep in. You stared down at the light blue shorts, eyebrows furrowed. Were you a sleepwalker? No, your past roommates would have told you. Maybe you'd had a really good dream and just forgotten it? Fuck, this was weird.

Deciding there was nothing you could really do about the situation, you got up, opting to take another shower to get rid of the icky feeling.

It was when you were munching on your chocolate flavoured cereal that you heard your phone ping. Automatically, you put your spoon down, picking up the device you so heavily relied upon. It was a text from an unknown number, causing you to frown. Opening it, you saw there was a picture attached to the text. And when you examined it, your blood ran cold.

It was a picture of you, naked in bed. Your body spread out, intimate area completely exposed.

"What the fuck?" You whispered, reading what had come with it.

Unknown number: Three orgasms in one night, that's your record so far.

You didn't know what to think— someone had.. touched you while you were asleep? They broke in and did this to you? You shivered in fear, your shaky hands typing out a response before you could even think about what the police would say if you went to them; to not engage with a dangerous person.

You: Who the fuck is this?

There was no reply. Not when you left for work, not when you arrived home in the evening.

You were rigid with fear. A sensible person would have called the police, or at least called someone like Erin, asked to stay over, but you just couldn't. Every time you were about to dial a number, something inside you made you stop. You couldn't explain it.

So here you were, sat bolt upright on your couch. It was around eleven, and your eyes were growing heavy. Your camomile tea mug now empty, you blinked a few times, just aching to lay down and rest. No, you had to stay up! You had to see who had been breaking into your home. But.. you were so tired, a sudden wave of exhaustion washing over you. Your eyes closed slowly, slumping down and falling into a deep sleep.

—

The next morning the first thing you did was check your phone, seeing if the stranger had replied, and they had. Two images attached to a message. And what you saw horrified you. The first picture, one of you in bed, with a.. strap-on, buried inside you. It made you feel sick, that someone had done this to you unwillingly. Though the expression on your face, clearly asleep but pleasure in your features. You could even see your own arousal dripping down the toy.

The second image quite literally made you throw up, You ran to the bathroom, heaving into the toilet bowl as the picture burned in your mind. It had been someone laying on a floor, covered in blood, a knife wedged in their chest.

You had to go to the police. There was no choice now. For some reason, you looked back at the picture, and your mouth dropped open. That someone was a familiar.

It was Erin.

You just knew, it was her jacket, her brown eyes wide open in fear, her blue dyed hair drenched in her own blood. It caused you to throw up again.

—

"I—I think my best friend has been murdered."

You whispered in a shaky voice to a police officer who had sat you down in a cold grey room. After seeing what you'd been sent, not even reading the message that had come with it, you rushed down to the local police station, practically screaming for someone to talk to.

"Why do you suspect this?" He asked in a gruff voice. He didn't seem to be all that serious about the situation, upsetting you even further.

"I've got pictures! And texts!" Your fingers fumbled around your pocket to retrieve your phone, opening your messages app.

It wasn't there.

"So?" The officer prompted, clearly unimpressed.

"It was.. it was right here.." You mumbled, opening every contact you had in case it had magically gotten messed up.

But no, the messages had vanished.

"Look, lady, I think you should go home and get some rest. You look tired. Our minds make things up when we're lacking sleep."

"But—"

"Listen, if something happens, come back in. But for now, you're making empty claims."

Hanging your head down dejectedly, you fought back tears. You knew Erin was dead. You just knew it.

—

Tonight you weren't going to fall asleep. Just to make sure, you downed two mugs of strong coffee instead of your tea. You hated it, but you couldn't risk falling asleep. The intruder— the murderer, was going to break in, you were sure.

The time ticked on. Eleven o'clock, twelve o'clock, one o'clock..

Until your phone buzzed. Dread washed over you. There was no one else who would be making your phone light up at this time of night.

Unknown number: How am I meant to enjoy you when you don't have your tea? You look so pretty when you sleep.

This confused you. Why would they be concerned about what beverage you were drinking? You typed out a response quickly.

You: I'm not scared of you.

It was a stupid thing to say, you knew that really. But the only thing you could think of was to pretend you weren't scared. Maybe that would make them bored and leave you alone. All you could think about what Erin's lifeless body. The blood, god.. all that blood..

Unknown number: See you soon, sweetheart.

Your eyes widened in horror; what the fuck did that mean? This person was on their way? Sickness rose up in your throat, and you ran to your kitchen, grabbing the first sharp object you could find— a medium sized kitchen knife. You clutched it to your chest, running to your bedroom, locking the door and panting heavily. You considered pushing some furniture against the door, but you knew you needed to call the police. Then you realised you'd left your phone in the kitchen.

Fuck! Fuck!

You had put yourself in the worst position possible. But before you could panic over that, you felt a gust of cold air. You frowned, turning around to see the window wide open. You definitely hadn't left it like that before, but it was also impossible for anyone else to have opened it. You lived on the top floor for Christ's sake!

Not knowing what to do first; close the window, get your phone, block the door, or just curl up in a ball and hope it would all just go away. You opted for grabbing your phone. If you could call the police, they'd be on their way, hopefully before your stalker could arrive.

Cautiously unlocking the bedroom door, you stepped out into the hallway. The lights that had previously been on, were off, leaving the whole apartment pitch black apart from the moon shining through the windows and the bedroom light.

Your steps were slow, ears straining to hear anything, but there was silence. The only sound heard was the hammering of your heart in your chest.

Until the silence was broken.

"Seeing you awake is strange. But exciting nonetheless."

The voice came from right behind you. Spinning around in horror, you finally came face to face with the person who had been tormenting you.

"Tormenting? That's a bit harsh, sweetheart."

The woman was dressed in all black, a hood covering most of her face. Light from the bedroom accentuated her figure, but more importantly, the silhouette of a knife and a cloth in her hands.

"W—who are you?" It was an attempt at a shout, maybe to attract the attention of the apartment below you, but your voice could barely manage a squeak.

"I've told you before, baby. You're a forgetful thing when you're asleep, mhm?" She stepped forward, causing you to take a step back.

"You've been taking advantage of me! You've been breaking into my home! You killed.. Erin!" You whispered, backing up against the wall. You had no where to go. You were most likely to die, just like Erin.

"Sweet girl, I'm not going to kill you. I could never hurt you." The woman's voice was almost softer as she approached you, only two feet away now. Was she reading your mind?

"But you killed my friend." The images of Erin's body filled your mind, and how you were going to end up just like her.

"Your 'friend'? Please, she was begging for her own life, not for you to be safe." She let out a cold laugh. "It was so satisfying, the sound of my blade tearing through her flesh and tissue." It almost sounded like she'd gotten pleasure from it

Finally, you got some sense and energy into you as she expressed her fucked up feelings. You let out a shattering scream, "HELP! HELP!"

The woman sighed in disappointment. It took her less than a second to raise the cloth up to your face, covering your nose and mouth. The smell of chemicals was overwhelming. You fought against it, until you couldn't anymore. Body falling limp to the ground.

—

The noise that woke you up was the sound of a squeaking. Your eyes wouldn't open, wondering what was going on. You then felt something inside you, a pressure building up in your lower stomach. What—

Finally, your vision became clearer. You blinked a few times, looking around you. The scene became pretty clear.

The woman was in between your legs, a strap-on buried inside you, just like that photo. The squeaking was the bed as she thrusted into you.

You should have screamed, but the pressure in your abdomen was too intense. You let out a whine, trying to move your tired body, but it was useless. You didn't even want to stop it, it felt too.. good.

"You're awake." She stated, a slight pant in her voice. Her hood was down now, revealing her auburn wavy hair, pale skin and deep green eyes.

"Let me.." You trailed off, because you didn't know whether to say 'go' or 'come'.

She let out a chuckle, holding your hips firmly as she thrusted into you. The feeling was delicious. Something about the fact your body was sleepy, heavy, while being fucked by a woman so dangerous..

No! Why are you thinking like this? It almost felt like your thoughts weren't yours anymore. Were you going insane?

The woman grunted, wet noises filling the room, making it very apparent that your body did not hate this at all. "You can come for me, it'll be your third."

Your third? You couldn't even bring yourself to ask about it, your body just trembled, a pending orgasm taking over, making you whimper in delight.

"Fuck!"

Tears filled your eyes from the sheer pleasure, and the fact that you should have hated this. You were filled with so much shame and guilt. This was the person who had killed your best friend, who'd stripped you of your dignity.

"Shh, darling, you don't have to feel guilty. You're allowed to feel pleasure. And your friend, well, she was just in the way."

Her twisted words made you feel sick again, but you didn't have time to dwell on that because the woman's hand suddenly reached down and started to circle your clit while simultaneously thrusting into you. A loud groan escaped your throat, eyes practically rolling to the back of your head.

"You're going to beat your record, four times will be an achievement." Her accented voice was hot and heavy, turning you on even more.

"I— mhm!" You tried to speak, but you didn't know what to say.

"Let go, detka, show me how good I make you feel." She gripped your waist with her spare hand, red manicured nails digging into your skin.

Without warning, you came hard, spilling all over the strap. The woman moaned, slowing down her thrusts and eventually pulling out, leaving you unbearably empty. She slipped the strap off and went to straddle you, leaning her head down to kiss your neck. You felt utter bliss, forgetting how incredibly fucked up and sick this was.

"Seeing as this is the first time we've met while you've been conscious, I'll introduce myself. I'm Wanda." She giggled, as if nothing had just happened, and had been happening for months. Your head spun, recognising that name somehow, as if it had been spoken in your dreams.

"Relax now, sweet thing. I'll be here when you wake up." Wanda said softly, lying beside you, wrapping the duvet around your naked body. Her arm laid loosely across your stomach, hearing her breathing slow down to something calmer than before.

You didn't say anything, too busy feeling a wave of satisfaction, as awful as that sounded. It was like your mind was used to this, and that it was something you'd always wanted.

The last thing you remembered was a soft lullaby, in a language you didn't recognise. You'd heard it before, in your dreams. And it brought you great comfort.

——

Tags: @rezwrites @hatdog96 @ion-news @esposadejoyhuerta @moimmmm @grimlygoblin @lizziesflower @yandereloverb312 @beggingonmykneesforher

——

[triaelf9]

Hey Critters!

So, you may recognize these doodles, as I've been live doodling since the first campaign, and doing what side games and one-shots I'm able to do ^_^ I really love doing the doodles, and I hope ya'll are enjoying them too!

I'm reaching out b/c Work is getting tricky as my wife was fired from her job (along with her coworkers last year) b/c her boss got greedy (the union is currently suing him, but we're not looking to get much recompense even if we win probably), and her covid really disabled her so she's not likely to be able to get much new work. Additionally, our kiddo needs a lot of one-on-one support, so her being a stay at home mom is really something he needs at least in these first years of his life. So I'll be the sole earner for the foreseeable future, and I bet you can imagine how tough living off of comics and freelance is lol XD (for a family of 3 humans, 4 rescue cats +1 outside we're caring for best we can, and a number of hefty bills to pay ^_^;;)

So, if you enjoy my doodles (and perhaps even my other work) and want to throw some support my way, a couple bucks a month goes farther than you'd think! Or if that's not an option, shopping in my stores is great too, or even the free option of boosting my work whenever you see it, tell your friends about my comics (word of mouth is LITERALLY what works through this social media algo garbage that's hitting), etc and so on!

Apologies for the long post, but I thought I'd bump this here on my tumblr where a number of folks seem to enjoy my humble lil' doodle offerings ^_^

Thank you for reading, and I'd be ever so grateful to any boosts!

[dragonpikachu]

I think the funniest thing about Bill's backstory is it changes nothing in terms of how I view him as a whole, like there's absolutely a sense of tragedy to what happened to his parents and his dimension, but it makes everything he ended up doing even worse in retrospect

my mans out here burying his head in the sand so he doesn't have to think about how he ruined everything while he continues to ruin everything and then has the nerve to get touchy about it, bro really out here putting Ford through the goddamn shredder both mentally and physically and then still thinks he can convince him to rule the universe with him, like if you feel for the guy more power to ya you're totally valid but it just makes me wanna see his ass kicked again

like I always loved that Bill was this insane bad guy who just did what he wanted but the context of his backstory makes everything so much worse because it doesn't stop him, he is and will forever be this garbage creature who fucks everything up because he's unwilling to learn from his mistakes and I kinda love that

[lilia-calderus-pet-goat]

Found-Family headcanons for a³'s coven of chaos, part 1: (because they all deserved more time with each other)

(part 2, here.)

(part 3, here.)

Agatha learned spanish for Rio, obviously—and spices up her dialogue with Spanish phrases out of habit. I assume she also knows other languages, being alive for as long as she has.

But I'd also like to think that language-learning gradually becomes something they all surprise each other with. And this is definitely super self-indulgent, because I'm always ecstatic when my native English-speaker friends are interested in learning my language.

For example, I definitely think Billy would ask Alice to teach him korean—and she'd be really excited for that. Not to mention, I feel like Billy just has the vibe of someone who'd be interested in learning different languages. (and korean in particular I think he'd definitely find interesting.)

I also definitely think Jen would try learning Sicilian for Lilia, considering the effort she makes to understand her and keep her comfortable towards the end. Lilia would be so moved, because she probably hasn't spoken to anyone in her mother-tongue in centuries. Like, it's literally considered an endanged language. (“Currently considered a “vulnerable” language by UNESCO, Sicilian faces increasing pressure from standard Italian, though it remains stronger than nearly all other Italian language varieties.”)

Mrs. Davis loves making food for all of them, always trying to diversify her cooking to suit their appetites, their cultures, the things each of them can eat, etc. It's a lot, but she doesn't mind!! She's a grandma!! She loves feeding people—and she missed having someone to cook for.

She grows her greens all by herself, too. Rio occasionally helps her with weeding and stuff. Mrs. Davis is freaked out by her rancid vibes at first, but ends up saying she's a “very sweet girl,” to which everyone responds by staring at her horrified.

Mrs. Davis would also definitely make a chore chart for everyone, but it never works out for a NUMBER of reasons.

First or all, Agatha always skips her turn with cleaning, saying that “she forgot.” She knows that either Billy or Sharon will just take care of it anyways. (Jen refuses to do any of Agatha's chores. “She can either do it by herself or drown in her own garbage-”)

Lilia always gets distracted and leaves her chores unfinished. She can only ever remember laundry, for some reason—she does everyone's laundry. But other than that, jeez. My girl is messy and that's okay. She has her very own unique way of finding where she puts her stuff, but others would merely call it chaos. Jen always picks up after her—and Lilia always huffs and puffs about how, “well now I can't find anything!”

Alice is the sort of person who accidentally creates messes everywhere, then stuffs everything wherever she finds. In drawers, under beds, you name it. Very, “out of sight, out of mind.” Like, she probably has “a chair” where she throws all her clothes.

Billy is very responsible, always abiding to the chore chart and oftentimes doing Agatha's chores too.

Jen is a total neat freak. She wants everything to be organised and under control—and she needs everything to smell nice.

She always makes the others scented candles. Agatha claims they're “useless garbage,” but uses them anyways.

Jen is also the one who usually keeps track of the bills and expenses, since she earns the most through her, “real job.”

Lilia is the sort of person to get lost in the mall, or even just the super-market. Alice has needed to look for her more than once.

Agatha loves crushing Jen's videos by appearing in the background and doing whatever bullshit she feels like.

Alice and Billy are everyone's mediators. Whenever someone gets in an argument, they're the ones who force them to work it out.

Alice is very protective of Sharon and Lilia, because she has mommy issues. Agatha has the opposite sort of mommy issues—but Sharon and Lilia treat them both like they're their kids.

The first time Billy brought Eddie to meet his coven, they literally put him through trials to decide whether he's worthy to date their son. Eddie is surprised he's been coven-approved.

“These women are insane, Billy—but then again, so am I for sticking around anyways.”

Eddie is very tired. His favourite coven members are Jen and Alice, who he considers the most normal. I REALLY think he'd fuck with Jen, because they're both so done with everyone else.

[hellsburners]

pain and suffering

summary: to which criminals run from the shadows, and the shadows run home to you. pairing: frank castle x male reader x matt murdock word count: 4k warnings: 18+ warning, unprotected s3x, dom!mattfrank, bottom!reader, double pen3tration, blowj0bs, mentions of violence a/n: i got this request like a whole month ago and im sorry to anon it took me a while to think of this

masterlist | more matt murdock

gif credit for frank & matt

The night air looms over Hell’s Kitchen. A normal person might hear the honking of cars and the loud chitchat of people in the street, but to a man like Daredevil, he hears everything. He hears Sally from down the street, crying as her husband comes home drunk, or Dominic, stealing another purse to pay for his brother’s medical bills. The city is not just a cluster of sounds for a man like the Devil, it’s a war cry. His city needs help, so he braces for the jump, a leap into the battlefield.

To him, pain and suffering is a saint. The pain of every hit, every jab, and every punch. To Matt Murdock, the pain of getting hit is like lashing for every sin he’s made. He is the fist of God, the guardian angel of the Kitchen, his suffering is the price for the safety of his people. So to him, yes, pain and suffering is the saint that guides him, the adrenaline to jump, to fight, to stand back up and fight again because he knows if he doesn’t, worse men will. 

He sits wounded on top of a building, the hanging laundry hiding him from plain sight. He pants, blood gushing from his lower rib. But then he smells it: gunpowder. The sound of clanking metal and rubber boots walking closer to him. He knows that smell, the smell of danger, the smell of bad news, the smell of The Punisher.

“They hit ya’ pretty bad tonight Red,” his rough voice roared across the building. He smells of blood, not his blood, but the blood of at least thirty other men. 

“I don’t need your help, Frank,” Matt said, wincing as he tried to stand. 

“I doubt that,” he was closer to Matt, he took the rear end of his rifle and pressed it to Matt’s wound, he cried out in pain. “See?”

“I don’t need any help from you.”

“That’s your problem, Red. You’re so self-righteous. You’re out here bleeding yourself to death thinking God sent you here on earth to be his punchin’ bag,'' he puts the rifle down, the metal butt hitting the floor. “You think your God can miraculously heal your wounds? The Devil ain’t no saint.” 

“And you’re any better?” Matt spat. “You wear that skull on your chest and you think that gives you the license to be a killer?” he licks his dried-up lips, the wounds weighing on him. “You’re a beast, Frank. A wild creature with no self-control, bloodthirsty, and—and inhumane.”

Frank was right, but Matt’s pride would never take any help from Frank Castle, he’s a murderer, a cold-blooded killer, and men like him have no place roaming the streets of New York. Matt tries to walk away from Frank, he could feel the blood drip into his waist, his head dizzy. Before he could even reach a meter away from Frank he feels the pull of the earth and drops into the cement floor, out cold. 

“Dumbass,” Frank spat.

—

To Frank Castle, pain and suffering is a weapon. 

Pain is the bullet to the head of a wife beater, a pedophile, a human trafficker, and any other demented fuck that helps in spreading crime in his city. He sniffs in the scent, it’s nauseating, the smell of garbage and piss, the smell of dead bodies piled in a heap for the cops to find. The blood pooled on his boots, painting them red. He reloads the gun, pulling on the lever that locks the bullet in the barrel, ready for the trigger. 

“Please, man. I have a wife and two kids,” the bald man begged. His shirt was soaked in blood, a bullet grazed his hip. He walks backward achingly, his back hitting the wall. “Fuck, man I swear I don't know anything ‘bout this! ”the man kneels in front of Frank, his hands together like he’s praying. 

Pain is the bullet that ends all suffering. 

Bang!

The man falls on the concrete, blood dripping out of his skull. Frank wipes the blood splatter on his face with his sleeve. He takes the pistol and slides it into the holster on his thigh. He grabs the man’s sleeve and pulls him into the heap. No loose ends. 

Frank takes his rifle and leaves. Taking the rooftops so the cops won’t see him. His body is sore, but it was never a hindrance. He sees a red blur across the building. The Devil himself, running from a bunch of men. Frank notices the Devil walking strangely, a hand on his left to cover a bleeding wound. 

He takes the sniper rifle and aims it at the four men searching for the masked vigilante. He reloads the rifle, and one by one the men drop dead. The Devil was clueless as to where the bullets came from. He walks over to the wounded man, lumped over the side of a rooftop wincing in pain. 

Frank had always admired the Devil’s determination, always standing back up after a fight, the line he wouldn’t cross, it amused Frank in a way. He liked to toy with it, always putting the red vigilante in positions where his moral code is tested. 

You know you’re one bad day away from becoming like me. 

Frank once told him, and he guessed it wasn’t true. Despite how hard the world hit him, he never crossed that line. That’s why when the Devil ended up face down on the concrete floor he took his body into his shoulder. Carrying his body to the only place he knew would understand the situation. To the person that knew the creed of pain and suffering. 

He stands in front of the wooden door, the door was locked. Not his first instinct to knock, because he knew he would always be let in. He knocked on the door, no answer. He knocked louder, banging on the door, the sounds echoing throughout the hallway.

“Jesus Christ, people will hear you,” you said, answering the door. 

— 

To you, pain and suffering is a curse. The curse that binds people to hospital beds for years, slowly rotting into the sheets as more and more medicine gets pumped into their veins. The curse that brings people into the emergency room, stabbed my knives, with broken knees, amputated fingers, and gunshot wounds through bone and muscle. 

You earn money from pain and suffering. Doctor’s fees from people you know can’t even afford it. You always wanted to give them pro-bono, but you weren't loaded like that. That’s why when injured vigilantes were involved, everyone in the New York underground knew your number. 

You had known people like Maya Lopez, Misty Knight, Ben Reilly, Ty Johnson, and Tandy Bowen alongside other masked heroes. That’s why when The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen arrived at your door four months ago you didn’t second guess your decision to help him. To you, helping these people would absolve you of being complicit in the suffering of innocent people in the hospital. 

“Got your number from Spider-man, hope you don’t mind,” he said, sprawled on your kitchen table covered in blood. His muscular body contracted from the pain as you sewed his wounds shut. You never truly cared about forming connections with your clients, it was more of a get-patched-up-and-leave type of way. 

He would often flirt with you whenever he came by, his dimples forming under his mask whenever he smiled or laughed. “Don’t worry Doc’ I’m a big boy,” he said, smiling at you. The smile quickly faded when you dug into his skin to retrieve the bullets on his bicep, a groan leaving his lips. You tried not to think about it, but he's pretty cute. 

On one night, a man banged on your door, you rushed to meet a shadow drenched in blood as if it was raining blood from the sky, a white skull on his chest. His hoarse voice groaned as you took him into your kitchen. Multiple bullet wounds, and gashes on his chest, in your personal opinion a person with that many injuries would've ended up on the morgue. 

“Did you fall into a meat grinder? What the hell,” you said. You tried your best to patch him up but he needed some blood transfusions. 

“Check the bag,” he groaned. Inside were bags of blood from the hospital, all type O, what the fuck. 

He stayed in your house for two nights, you checked his vitals every hour to make sure he was still alive. This hasn’t happened before, you’ve never had a client that was on the brink of death. It was always some minor injury, but this man managed to wake up and stand after two days to leave. 

You found a bundle of one hundred dollar bills in your mailbox the next day. 

—

“Bring him to the couch,” you said. You took Matt’s body as Frank carried his legs, you took his limp body into the sofa, a deep wound on the torso, an easy fix for you at this point. It has been months since you first met the two men in your apartment. You’ve spent multiple nights helping them, in your apartment, or Matt’s, or Frank’s bunker. You were technically associated with them to the point that you know their real names. 

“The emergency kit is on the kitchen counter.” 

“Got it Doc,” Frank saluted, removing his trench coat and his bulletproof vest, his muscular form bulging through his black shirt. They reeked of blood, you could taste the iron on your tongue. 

Matt’s eyes fluttered, his head turning to the sound of your voice. “Hey,” he said, groaning through the pain. You cut his undershirt open, the wound gushing out blood. You took some gauze to soak the viscous liquid, making sure the clotting starts. 

“Sit your ass down, Red,” Frank ordered. You managed to sew the wound shut, you gave Matt some pain relievers as his eyes fell back into sleep. You let him rest for a bit, covering him in a fleece blanket. You walked towards Frank, a few cuts on his arms, he was already in the middle of sewing some of them before you helped. “Don’t worry about me, it’s nothin’”

“Make sure you don’t die in my kitchen this time,” you said, walking to the kitchen sink to rinse your bloodied hands. You opened your refrigerator to grab a drink. “Want a beer?”

“Sure,” Frank nods.

You took a cold beer from your fridge, the metal caps clanking on the floor. You handed him the bottle, he took a big swig like he was thirsty for water, some liquid falling from the corner of his lips. He sat on a wooden chair, legs spread, the hem of his shirt raising a bit to show a peak of his abdomen. 

Matt soon woke up. Much to your disagreement, taking a beer of his own. He took a seat in your dining area, topless with bandages around his torso. The three of you are looking at each other around the table. “So–what happened tonight?” you asked. 

Matt’s frown was deadset. Frank taking gulps of his second bottle of beer. You were taking sips of your bottle, looking at the heated tension between the two. It was annoyingly anxiety-inducing. “You know, I don’t know what’s the point of talking to you two—I’m a physician, not a therapist.” 

“You need to stay away from him,” Matt said, his lips a straight line. “He’s a dangerous person with nothing good going on for his pathetic life.”

“Boohoo! Little catholic boy here feels entitled about being god’s little bitch,” Frank spat. “Is that what you think bitch boy?”

“See? He’s an immature old fuck that thinks the world’s answer to violence is guns and bullets,” Matt said, downing his beer.

“He’s just using his lawyer bullshit on you,” Frank said.

You rolled your eyes, it’s always like this, them bickering. You downed the beer, the bitter taste running through your tongue. You set it down with a loud clunk. The two men halted their bickering. 

“I’m not taking sides but I think both of you are annoying cry babies that should just kiss and make out!” the two men frowned their brows. “You bicker like an old couple��the two of you need to suck it up because, at the end of the day, the two of you leave a trail of blood in this city that I clean!” you shouted.“You know how many people end up in the emergency room thanks to you two, I don’t even keep count of them anymore.”

Matt called for your name, to apologize or something, but you took another bottle of beer and gulped on the bubbly drink. Instead of talking you took his lips to yours, the bitter taste of his mouth shared with yours. His hands come to your neck, fingers wrapping around the flesh as his tongue meets yours. You smell his clean shampoo mixing with the alcohol, he smelled like a man who took hygiene seriously.

You pull back to walk towards Frank, bending down to kiss him, pressing on his shoulder with your hands to guide you. The bitter taste of both of your mouths intoxicates you. He grabs the hem of your shirt, pulling you in more. He smelled of cheap soap and gunpowder. You pulled away to catch them frozen, feet glued to the floor, aghast.

“See,” you rubbed your hands. “Not hard at all.” 

Frank was biting his lip chuckling, his fingers massaging his lip. He pulled you to his lap, kissing you harder, his hands falling to your ass. Your hands run through his dark hair, his stubble pricking your face. You moaned from the contact, Matt’s enhanced senses making the sound echo in his head. He hesitated but his groin turned to the noises you made. Frank’s lips fall to your neck, nibbling on the skin eliciting more lewd noises from you. 

“See this red?” he said. “This little slut likes it.”

“Play with his ear, he likes it,” Matt ordered. Frank hadn’t known that.

“He also likes it when I do this,” he pinches your nipples, and you shudder from the slight pain. The two men didn’t know that you had experiences of having sex with them on different occasions. “So you’re a little whore huh, you do this to all of your clients?”

“No—,” you gasped. “Just you two.”

Matt chuckled. Frank had set you on his lap so that you were facing Matt, his hands playing with both of your nipples as he left purple hickeys all over your neck. Matt had knelt in front of you palming your growing erection. The ache in your groin grows from the lack of release. Tonight these men offer you more pain and suffering but in ways that elicit nothing but pleasure. 

He takes your trousers off leaving you with nothing but your shirt, finally something to ease the pain. Matt stood to open his pants, his thick cock standing tall, the hairs neatly trimmed. “Take his dick inside your mouth,” Frank whispered, while he stretched your legs open so his fingers could tease your hole. He took his fingers to your mouth making it wet.

Matt’s hands ran through your hair, his tip teasing your swollen lips. As you took his length into your mouth, Frank's finger entered your hole curling inside drawing out muffled sounds from your mouth. You were quickly bent over by Frank, his head in between your ass cheeks licking and fingering your hole, while your head was bobbing up and down on Matt’s cock. 

Frank smacked your ass so hard it left a red print as he continued to toy with your rear. Matt groaned as the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat. Frank pulled you back with your hair, popping Matt’s cock out with a string of saliva. It was painful the way they carried you, but in some sick twist of events, it turned you on even more. 

“My turn,” Frank said, as he takes your mouth to his sex, you engulf his thick uncut cock, your nose hitting his unkempt hair taking in his scent. Matt bent down to toy with your hole, curling and stretching two fingers inside you stimulating your prostate. You were turning your lips as you sucked on Frank’s cock, a hoarse groan leaving his mouth as he grabbed onto your hair tightly. 

Matt stroked your cock as he moaned, eating you out with his wet tongue and playing with the rim of your hole. Frank took control of your mouth, fucking into it like you’re his sex toy, his cocking hitting the roof of your mouth at a constant speed. Frank could feel his climax coming so he pulls out leaving you a wet mess next to Matt. 

“Can I fuck you?” Matt asked. You nod, taking them into your bedroom. 

Frank undressed and took a seat on the small sofa chair in the corner of the room, stroking his hard cock. You were on all fours on the bed, facing Frank. His eyes glued to you as he stroked. Matt lubes your hole before slowly pressing his cock into your hole. You gasped as he sheathed into you. Frank smirked, this turned him on even more, his large arms contracting as he stroked his cock.

Matt started to fuck you slowly, his hips slapping your ass. He started to let out guttural moans, his hips becoming rigid as he gripped onto your waist, his nails digging into your skin. He bends down to kiss your neck, rutting into you, his hard thrusts ramming into you. “I’m close,” he moaned. He jerks your cock to the point that you yelp out, cum shooting out of your cock as he continues to jerk his hips before he emptied inside you, a deep groan leaving his lips as his cum fills you. You two collapsed on the bed, his body weight on top of you. 

“Move over Red,” Frank said, looming over you as Matt moves over before Frank mounts you. Matt’s cum formed a slippery lube that made Frank’s cock ease its way as it thrusts. Your body was still weak from your high. He grabs onto your hair as he ruts into you, continuing his hard pace against your body. “You like that?” he said, stroking your sore cock back to hardness. 

“Ye–yes, fuck,” you moaned. 

Matt was at the edge of the bed, soothing your hair as he peppered kisses all over your face. The bed creaked as Frank humped you, veins popping across his arms as his grip on you tightened, you’re sure it would leave marks. He pulled out, leaving you to gasp from the sudden lack of fullness. He sits back on the headboard of your bed, legs sprawled as he gestures for you to ride him. You mount yourself on his hardness, sitting on his thick and hairy thighs. Matt sits on the edge of the bed, his erection coming back from the sight of you two. 

“Take it like a good boy,” Frank praises. You hold onto his chest as you feel the hardness enter you, some of Matt’s cum leaking out. You take Frank’s lips, you now realize how abrasive his stubble was. You move your hips around and around, Frank lets out curses here and there. He pulls your head back, littering your neck with more marks, his fingers find your nipples, teasing them to draw out more moans from you.

Franks sees Matt on the side, his hard already leaking precum just from watching you take Frank’s cock. He calls for Matt to come to you two, to join back in. You feel Matt’s fingertips on your skin, your body is now so filled with stimulation, his mere touch driving you wild. You feel his erection on your back, his lips attached to your shoulders. He takes his leaking cock and presses into your hole, the size alongside Frank’s was a tight fit, your breathing quickens from all the pressure. The two men made sure to guide you and praise you as you take both of their lengths. 

You cry out from the sensation. Frank takes your lips to stifle your cries, tears fall from your eyes as your tongues touch, and Matt inches to join your kiss. The three of you kiss into the pain, The two men slowly moving inside you. The pressure was so intense but the arousal overcame, your sex was so hard, leaking so much into Frank’s abdomen. They start to thrust, Matt could feel his sensitive frenulum rub on Frank’s, it made his eyes roll back, his senses overflowing. 

All of you reeked of sex, the sounds of slapping skin and wet tongues fighting for dominance against the grunts and moans. The constant rocking was making the bed hit the wall, the mattress moved as if there were an earthquake. You were all covered in sweat, hair sticking onto skin, Hands gripping the wooden headboard, fingertips roaming skin, and tongues lashing on each other. 

Everything felt like a blur to you, you were being rocked back and forth like a playground swing, your core sore from the fucking, and there were pairs of hands all over you touching your most sensitive spots. You could feel the climax, creeping into your body tingling your coccyx to the highest peak of your spine. You felt their erratic thrusts, Frank was a groaning mess under you, his neck all red and his face flushed. Matt was a noisy mess on your ear, cursing and calling your name like a prayer, his arm wrapped around your waist as he fucked. 

You were at your peak, arousal overflowed from your body into theirs. Their cum filling into you. You all yelped out in pleasure as you rode your highs. Frank dug his hands into your thighs as Matt hid his forehead on your shoulder, rutting their fill into you. The next few minutes came to you in flashing lights, like fireworks spraying colored lights all over the room. 

You woke up the next day to two heavy bodies at your sides. Matt’s arms around your waist with your head resting on Frank’s chest. All of you reeked of sweat and cum. As you turned you saw Matt’s eyes flutter, his long lashes flicking as his golden eyes beamed under the sunlight. 

“Sorry about last night,” he whispered. 

“Why? I had fun,” you said, peppering kisses all over his cheeks. 

“You sure?” he said, as he rubbed his thumbs on your cheeks. 

“Pretty sore but nothing a pain reliever won’t fix,” you said. 

“I guess you’re right, making out fixes everything,” Frank said, his voice deeper. He joins you and Matt, pressing kisses all over your shoulders. Matt takes this as a sign to kiss you all over your neck, their hands snaking all over your body. “What’s good for breakfast around here?” Frank said in between kisses.

“There’s a good diner across the street,” Matt said, leaving soothing kisses on the marks they left on your neck. Your body was so sore and painful, but these men made sure to make it up to you. You woke up last night to them cleaning you up, Matt wiping you with a damp cloth and Frank rummaging through your closet to grab something for you to wear. Despite their rough lifestyles, they made sure you were taken care of. Maybe a little less pain and suffering next time though. 

“But first,” you said, pulling away from them.” Shower.” 

interactions are greatly appreciated btw if u liked this fic and want more send me a prompt and i'd gladly make something from it :>

[little-pondhead]

[inspired roughly by this post. My brain snails started going nuts so I thought it'd be easier to post this separately :)]

…

It was a lovely day in Gotham. Well, as lovely as it could be. The sun was up, peeking through the overhead cloud cover and making the buildings gleam in the rare sunlight. The air was fresher than usual, and faucets ran clear of strange and unusual toxins.

Somewhere in the Upper East Side, in a little neighborhood tucked away from the rest of the city, marched around the new boss of the area. She was a young girl, just barely in high school. But despite it being the middle of a work day, she wandered around her chosen streets, content to do whatever she wanted. Above her, a pair of siblings watched on and discussed the unique situation.

"So let me get this straight: that fourteen-year-old goth girl is a crime boss?"

Mia smiled at Leon, her older brother, and his dumbfounded expression as they rested on her balcony. "She's fifteen, actually. Her birthday just passed. We all got together and threw a block party for her!"

"You know how insane that sounds, right?" Leon turned to her, a bit miffed that she dared to say those words to his face. "She's a kid. Why do you all listen to her?"

Mia shrugged and sipped her beer. "She does good work. Holds her own pretty well, and the kid has connections. Good ones, too. That can be the difference between life and death in Gotham."

Leon rubbed his forehead in frustration. "I just don't get it. How did she end up in this line of work? Do child labor laws even apply here?? Why aren't the Bats doing anything?"

"Don't think about it too much, dipshit." Mia crushed her now-empty beer can in her hand and tucked it into a paper garbage bag hanging off of a hook on the balcony rail. A familiar set of green arrows was printed on the side.

"And now you're recycling?!" Leon realized. "When did you start doing that, Mia??"

The woman shrugged and got up, stretching. "Probably around the time Brambles absolutely reamed out Mrs. Zalinski for littering at the park."

"Wait, who's Brambles?" Leon scrambled upright and followed his sister inside.

Mia laughed. "Brambles is our fifteen-year-old crime boss!"

...

"I can't believe you got a cool name right off the bat," Danny grumbled, flopping onto Sam's bed face-first. Sam smirked and shoved him off with her foot. Danny just squawked and let himself ragdoll to the ground.

"It's your fault for not having a better gimmick." She said to his prone body. "Besides, it could've been worse."

"I think Inviso-Bill is the worst possible nickname for anyone." Danny groaned. "But you got something cool immediately. Who even thought up 'Brambles'? That's such a unique name!"

"Well the kids call you Grim; that's pretty cool."

Danny flopped over, twisting himself much farther than any human was supposed to just so he could glare at her face. "They only call me that cause one of the is obsessed with Harry Potter." He grumbled, pouting.

Sam just rolled her eyes and went back to sorting through piles of papers scattered all across her duvet. Since moving to Gotham several months ago, Sam had taken it upon herself to turn the experience into something useful rather than just moping all the time, as she originally wanted to. That 'something useful' had landed her as the newest crime boss in Gotham, with about a third of the Upper East Side as her current territory.

So many problems had popped up in the last year, and the group had decided that taking it on alone would never work. The GIW had been trying to close Amity's borders, Danny's parents had a scientific breakthrough, tensions in the Realms were high, etc. There was a lot on their plate! Sam's solution was to create a foothold in Gotham City. She would lay the foundations for Jazz to work in Arkham and forge a safer environment for the residents of Amity Park to sneak off to if the GIW went too far. She was essentially weaving a cushion for everyone to fall back on.

Danny, using the power of duplication, was splitting his focus between foiling his parent's plans and resolving issues with his rouges to create a united front. He was the main distraction, and Sam's own heavy hitter when she needed help establishing dominance.

Tucker planned to gather intel with the help of Technus and Jazz. They were trying to gather as much evidence as possible so they'd be in the clear when the whistle blew. The GIW would crash and burn, legally speaking. They were the bugs of the operation, spreading themselves thin and hoarding information like it was candy.

Dani was their wild card, their jester. She was keeping the JLD's attention focused solely on her and all the supernatural hijinks she was stirring up. When the time was right, she'd point them in the direction needed and let them loose. After winding them up so much, the hope was that the Justice League Dark would descend upon the GIW like hellfire.

But those were their future plans. Right now, Sam was in possession of specific files from Arkham Asylum and the GCPD. She was looking for anything to give her an edge in the upcoming meeting with a few other crime bosses. Some annual thing they host to renew Goonion contracts, see who's still alive, and examine how much the territory lines have changed. Stuff like that. Red Hood was supposed to be there, and she knew she needed an ironclad defense against him and his nosy colony of Bats.

Danny untwisted himself all of a sudden, making a weird face. "Sorry, got to go." He apologized. "Vlad just showed up to my house."

Sam waved him off. "Go, I'll be fine for today. Just be on time for the meeting on Friday. And I want you, not a double."

"You got it!" Danny did finger guns at her and promptly melted into a pile of green goo. Right on her bedroom floor!

Sam sighed and got up to throw a towel over the puddle. The ectoplasm would evaporate eventually, returning to the original Danny little by little. But for now, this would keep anyone from asking about it until it was all gone.

Sometimes she really hated living in student dorms. People always felt the need to burst into her room for no reason.

Who even made dorm rooms for high schoolers in the first place??

...

Jason couldn't help but stare at the new recruit.

Well, 'new recruit' wasn't exactly accurate. 'Potential to be the most headache-inducing supervillain' was more like it. Standing at a solid 5'10" with platform boots, Brambles, the newest crime lord who had taken over half of the Upper East Side in under four months, was almost tall enough to look him in the eye straight on. Which she tried to do anyways, tilting her chin up oh-so-slightly (in that stupid way aristocrats do when they want to look down at you) and glaring at him with open hostility.

Brambles was young, way too young to be in this line of business. At the start of the annual underground crime meeting (yes, they couldn't come up with a better name), she had announced that she was fifteen, went by she/her, and would snap the dick off of anyone who looked at her funny. Most everyone laughed at her, thinking it was an empty threat. Brambles proved it wasn't by sucker-punching a younger lieutenant who tried to get handsy with her five minutes into the meeting.

When the lieutenant's boss protested and threatened a gang war, Brambles had snapped her fingers and summoned what could only be a fucking pit demon from the depths of hell to threaten the man back. The creature looked like a teenager, just like Brambles, at first. But it was...off. The longer you looked, the worse it got.

It wore a draping black cloak that covered most of its body, with the ends turning to mist when it reached the floor. It had a pale, young face and white hair. Its eyes glowed just like Brambles', except they were a toxic green that made Jason's heart skip a beat in fear. The creature was snarling, with a fucking muzzle on it to keep its sharp teeth away from wandering fingers.

With a nod from Brambles, the creature bounded forward and knocked the guy to the floor, its arm elbow-deep into the guy's chest. The dude looked terrified, and a little sick "Would you rather lose a lieutenant or your life?" She had snarled, sounding almost a bit demonic herself. The other boss had backed down without another word, writing off his subordinate as dead and gone.

Instead of killing the guy, however, Brambles simply banished her little guard dog to a corner of the warehouse to play with its new toy in peace.

"Is she allowed to do that?" Someone whispered.

"They weren't unionized, so the Goonion won't say anything." Another answered.

It was the most awkward meeting in the history of the criminal underworld. No one even died since they were all focused on the newcomer.

Jason could feel a headache forming as the meeting came to an end. Brambles was still sitting in her chair. The creature had grown bored of its toy and was leaning against her, sprawled out lazily and barely flicking an ear at the onlookers in acknowledgment. A few people were idling around her, mostly women, trying to talk some big game and get on the kid's good side. Brambles was humoring them, taking tight control of the conversation when they got too prying.

Jason sighed. He knew he'd have to go over and have a talk with the kid, even if it was just for Bruce's files. He hauled himself upwards and stalked over. "Pardon me, ladies and gents, but I'm going to borrow the kiddo here for a moment."

The creature hissed at him, tensed at his approach. Brambles kept a tight grip on the back of its muzzle, keeping it grounded. The other criminals scattered like flies. They were the only two (three?) left in the warehouse within minutes.

Bramble rose to glare at him. "What." She spat. "If you're here to convince me not to get involved with anything, I will set Grim on your ass after lighting it on fire."

The creature, Grim, growled in agreement. The sound echoed strangely like he was hearing it from underwater.

"Relax, I'm not here to do any of that." Jason raised his hands in surrender, immediately abandoning that possible line of thought. "I'm just here to talk business. You're young, and while you don't want to admit it, inexperienced."

"Stop the fancy words, Red Hood." Brambles' eyes glowed again, and she released her hold on Grim's muzzle. "If you want to make a deal, say it to my face. If you're here to dig for information, either ask me or hit the road. I prefer honesty over flower talk, so tell me what you want before I take over your area, too."

Jason bristled. His vision was tinted green as he snapped, "What the fuck is your problem, kid?! I just wanted to make sure you were safe and not being forced to do this. I was even going to offer my support and protection if it was too much! I know you aren't going to stop, but that doesn't mean I want a kid to die just because they got into something they shouldn't and they think their fancy guard dog will always be there to protect them!"

Brambles' eyes stopped glowing, and her stare softened a bit. Grim went deadly still, just floating there, staring at Jason. His heart beat like crazy in his chest. What was he saying? It was all true, but he could've been nicer about it. Dick would've found a way to be nicer.

-krrrk- "Ibis, reporting in. I think you can trust him, guys. Even if he's a Bat, his connections and experience would be useful in our plans. Ibis out." -krrrk-

Jason flinched from the sudden noise, looking around to find the source. It sounded like it had come from everywhere, even inside his own helmet. Brambles immediately switched out her hostile look for an annoyed one, tapping an earpiece he hadn't noticed before.

"Ibis, you really have to stop opening up our comm lines to the public." She snapped, but there was no real heat to it. "And I thought I told you to stop eavesdropping!"

-krrrk- "Sorry, can't help it. I'm everywhere now! You shouldn't have given me this power." -krrrk-

Grim hissed.

-krrrk- "Don't hiss at me, young man! You were the one who suggested this!" -krrrk-

"I'm sorry, time out!" Jason made a T with his hands. The green from his vision had completely disappeared now. "What the FUCK is going on now?"

Brambles sighed, rubbing her temples. "You know what? Fine. We'll trust you. My name is Sam. Nice to meet you, Jason Todd."

Jason stepped back, immediately reaching for his gun. Grim darted forward and promptly flew through him, stealing all his weapons in one go. "I'm Danny!" Grim-Danny?-chirped in a human voice, giving him a shit-eating smile. "Sorry for the act, Mr. Hood. And sorry about the name drop, I'm the one that told them."

-krrrk- "I'm Tucker! There are more of us, but they're busy. I have literally so many questions for you, Mr. Hood." -krrrk-

"Now that introductions are over-Danny don't eat his smoke bombs, you're not gonna look like Dorathea-we'd like your help."

Jason squinted at them. "You understand this is all suspicious as fuck, right? And how did a pit demon find out who I am?"

-krrrk- "Yeah, we know. But lives are on the line here, and I think you'd really be a help!" -krrrk-

Brambles-Sam-sighed and pulled out a flash drive. "I was going to use this as leverage, but I guess it'll have to be useful in other ways." She tossed it to Jason, who numbly caught it. "Look over it if you want. If you don't, then just burn it. Do not try to plug it into the Batcomputer. Don't try to send it to the Batcomputer, either. A virus will target that specific IP address as soon as it makes contact. Any other computer is fine."

"Look it over, and we can go from there," Danny added, spinning in midair while chomping on one of Jason's knives. (His good one, too!) "And I'm not a pit demon, but I am dead. That's how I knew about you. Whatever brought you back to life gave the Realms a real headache for a while. It wasn't hard to look you up in the records."

"This is so much information. Lives are on the line? And two, three kids are dealing with it? By becoming crime bosses?"

-krrrk- "Technically, Sam's the only crime boss here. And that was kind of an accident. She was supposed to create a safe foothold in Gotham in case we needed to evacuate our town. But we all got cool nicknames out of it! And you're the only adult we've told this stuff to!" -krrrk-

"I'm what?"

"The only adult." Sam's unwavering gaze seemed to pierce his soul. "There are quite literally no other adults that can help, Red Hood. None that we trust, not really. Any adult intervention needs to be planned carefully so it doesn't backfire on us. We're trusting you here, Jason. Not only are you like us, which technically puts you in danger too, but you have power and connections to support a whole town of people the government wants to eradicate."

Jason looked at the little green flash drive in his hand. He didn't want to ask. "And this...?"

"A fruit basket," Sam said simply. "Originally, it was supposed to be blackmail. But instead, this is a present to show our goodwill and faith. To show you our skills. That drive contains information on other gangs, upcoming rogue attacks, chemical breakdowns of Joker Venom and Fear Gas, unfinished antidote formulas, etc. Tucker and his team scoured the underbelly of Gotham and gathered dirt on every single prominent figurehead. Including Bruce Wayne, should you choose to use it."

"I would never-"

"But you've thought about it." Danny cut in and scratched his neck. Jason's hands shook. "It's not a bad thing. It's just the nature of the dead. Wanting to right the wrongs left over from their time with the living. Even if you walk and breathe now, that doesn't mean desire disappears."

"The point is, we need help. Even if I'm loathe to admit it." Sam rolled her eyes, and suddenly, Jason didn't see a potential supervillain in the making. He saw a teenager trying her best, shouldering the responsibility of hundreds of people, both in Gotham and her hometown. Danny looked the same, no matter how other-worldly he was. What battles were they facing? Why weren't there any adults to turn to? What kind of lives were they leading if they immediately trusted a known crime lord with their lives upon the first meeting?

"I'll think about it." Jason finally said. Danny trilled in excitement, and some tension bled out of Sam's shoulders. "If the situation is bad enough, however, I'm calling in someone else for help."

Danny shrugged. "As long as it ain't Batman! I don't think he'll appreciate us smuggling a town of liminals into his city."

Sam poked Danny's shoulder, prompting him to look at her. "Let's go, before you break his brain with more info-dumping. Bye Red Hood!"

"Uh, yeah. Goodbye!" Jason stuttered. He watched the two kids walk towards the exit door, before shimmering out of sight before they even touched the handle.

What the fuck.

[billskeis]

HEASIAIZIA HAI

CAN YOU MAKE LIKE BILL BEING A POLICE OFFICER AND THE READER DOING SOME STUFF THAT COULD GET HER IN JAIL BUT LIKE ok LISTEN she does the "everybody knows that im a good girl officer" thing (song by Lana del rey playing dangerous) and he lets her go but like the next day they meet again and go on a date and HOOKUP but he punishes her for doing that stuff (perhaps if it could be spraying on like stores if you get me) like punishes her not letting her release TYING HER WITH THE HANDCUFFS UGHHHHahhshshsHAJDSJS

ᡣ𐭩 police officer bill

police lights flash behind as you attempt to catch your breath in an alleyway. on the run, you’re currently hiding from the police as they’ve caught onto you and a couple of fiends vandalizing public buildings with vulgar graffitis.

as you hide your body behind a garbage chute, you kneel down to make yourself less known to the open world.

shouts boom across the street seeming as though a few of the cops have already caught onto your other friends.

bless the heavens that you weren’t caught.. yet.

“haah.. phew..! i think, i think i made it out alive!” speaking to yourself as somebody else was there.

“i don’t exactly think so, schatz.”

“oh sh—”

in your feeble escape, you try to make a run for it until a pair of arms latch onto your shoulders and push your body up against theirs.

“fuck! ow..”

“you really thought that you could get away..?”

you turn to look at the body that’s pressed up against yours. he was tall, and really pretty, actually you wondered why he didn’t just work as a model instead of being a police officer.

black locs adorned his face, with an eyebrow piercing accompanying his right, are they allowed to wear those on duty?

whatever, it makes him look hot.

“well.. i’ve been such a good girl officer.”

“my ass, you’ve been vandalizing the streets and these buildings for weeks and you know it.”

“it adds a little.. character! what can i say, this city could use a little colour to it.”

“as much as i love art, princess, what you’re doing is ILLEGAL.”

“no, what’s illegal is how hard you have this gun pressed into my backside, it hurts.”

“..?”

“um hello?? officer—”

you turn to find his name tag attached to the right side of his uniform. bill. officer bill.

“officer bill, can you at least move your gun to—i don’t know—the side more??”

“oh my sweet little thing.. that isn’t a gun.”

…

“oh.”

your eyes meet his, dark brown irises highlighted in the sunny light, his lips curled into a downward smile although his voice stern. it seems as though this police officer enjoys having you up against him.

you feel a rush of heat go to your cheeks, so you turn your body around. embarrassed, why? fuck if you’d know..

well maybe it’s the fact that the officer that currently has you captive in the back of an alleyway is not only super fucking gorgeous but he’s PACKING.

“i.. i—”

“i’m going to let you go.”

he releases his grip on you and you turn your full body to meet him once more, truly relishing in how tall and slim fit his figure is built. you have to look up at him to make eye contact.

“although under one condition,”

“and that is?”

“you go on a date with me,”

“fuck no. i’d rather be caught dead than go on a date with a police officer.”

truth be told, you did wanna go on this date, but your stubborn nature wouldn’t allow you to say yes so easily. you really wanted to test the waters and see how persistent bill was in getting that date.

“fine then, i am obligated to then turn you in.”

“waitwaitwait nevermind i’ll go on that date with you.”

fuck yourself for being this easy..

this little shit, how dare he pull the authority card on you after you had done something illegal and he do his job?? his face once emotionless now held a smirk on his lips before he slipped you a small paper.

“good girl. now stay here for a little longer, i’ll let the others know i couldn’t find you.“

“..kay, but i’m expecting a lot from you just so y’know..”

you wave him off goodbye as you see his figure disappear from away the alleyway. hearing voices chatter, you can only assume he came up with an excuse to let you off the hook in exchange for a date with you.

“oh trust me princess, i will exceed those expectations.”

“i—um..”

“use your words f’me princess,”

“how is this a date!?”

you’re currently on his bed, the tight little number that you wore is currently riding up your thighs as you clench them together.

prior to this, bill took you out to a restaurant that was AMAZING, and insisted that you go back to his house to drink a bit more.

to your naivety, bill had other intentions underlying his silver tongue words.

with your cunt hovering right above the tip of his dick, you cannot find the words to speak. how is this even possible?? how dumb could you be to sleep with a cop?? stupid stupid y/n.

with each hand on the side of your waist, the soft pads of bill’s fingertips graze over your skin sending a shiver up your spine.

“you’re leaking onto me schatzi, sure you don’t want this?”

“shut up..”

with a harsh slam, bill pulls your hips flush to his, bottoming out. you let out a surprised squeak as your walls molds to his shape.

now you’ve had sex before but not with someone this big, the stretch is something you gotta get used to.

if you were to fuck him again.

“you better watch your mouth, maus.”

“f-fuck.. a little warning would be nice, no?”

“hm, nah..”

bill uses his hands to grasp each side of your ass before lifting you up to slide you up and down his length, the stretch burning a bit but it quickly subsides as he makes you ride him.

electricity sparks from within your body and you feel your stomach starting to clench. every time he brings your butt down to touch his thigh your clit rubs his abdomen momentarily.

with your orgasm coming close, you don’t even care about the noises that fall out of your mouth. you sound like a total slut. not that bill even cares.

“i-i’m close..”

he stops.

“bill..!”

“i don’t think you deserve to come yet.”

you grind your hips in circles in an attempts to release but he brings a hand to spank your ass.

“o-ow..”

“gimme a reason to let you release, hm? you been acting up for weeks, plus the multiple warnings the force has given you just hasn’t stopped you from committing crimes has it..?”

you bite your lip in a remains of silence. no way in hell were you going to beg bill to let you come.

he wraps his arms around your waist to bring your torso closer to his, now bringing his mouth to your bare chest to lick a stripe up from in between your breasts.

a moan in approval slips out of bill’s mouth as he then brings his tongue to lick around your right nipple swirling his tongue around it.

he bites on the bud eliciting a wince out of you. your hips still on his, an achy feeling still felt in your cunt as you yearn for more.

“so? what’s it gonna be maus?”

“please..”

“please what?”

“let me come.. bill,”

“okay, but i have another condition for you.”

you cock your head to the side in confusion, wondering what he’s up to now. that is until he releases an arm off you to reach for something on the bedside table.

oh fuck no.

“you kinky shit, handcuffs?”

“it’s apart of my get-up what can i say?”

“n-no.. i’m not wearing those.”

“well then i guess you can’t cum! i can sit and wait here all night baby.”

tears begin to well from your eyes, all you want is the sweet bliss of release and the man who wanted a date with you in the first place clearly isn’t give it to you unless you put your pride aside.

well, fuck it.

you present your wrists pressed together in front of bill, looking around the room in shame. a smirk falling down on his face as he clicks the metal gadget around your limbs now connected with one another.

“good girl.”

again with no warning, bill pistons his hips up into you at a harsh and fast pace. without falter, he keeps his rhythm to which you cannot catch up to.

choking on your words, all you can do is hold onto him for stability, the pressure brought to your g spot by his tip feels amazing.

“b-bill..”

“gonna be good f’me?”

“yes..!”

your legs begin to shake and quiver as your orgasm washes down on you but bill is nowhere near done with you, never stopping his hips.

“shit, looking at how you’re sucking me in..”

“gonna cause more trouble for me and my friends?”

you’re panting so hard and your brain and legs have become so mushy only small whimpers and whines fall out of your mouth. bill clearly isn’t satisfied with your behaviour, biting into your shoulders.

“answer me.”

“ung! n-no! ‘m sorry. hic ‘m so sorry billy i won’t c-cause you anymore trouble just—hic—please slow down..!”

your cunt all sensitive and sloppy, only squelching noises can be heard in bill’s bedroom as be fucks his dick into you. body so sensitive and overstimulated you let him do you as he pleases.

he leaves sloppy kisses all over your neck and chest calling you dirty names but you can’t help but clench around him even more, milking his cock as if its asking for his seed.

your words fall onto deaf ears, clearly, as all bill does is go even faster at an inhumane pace you didn’t even know was possible.

“a-ah.. i can’t.. ‘m done, bill.. no more..”

“almost done baby, okay? just be a good girl for me and let me do the work..”

“a-ah nooo..”

it hurts. the pressure hurts. but its hurts so good.. with a final thrust, bill finally comes, releasing into your walls with his dick all nice and pressed up into your cervix.

“s-shit, coming..”

his moans are low and nasally. mouth agape and hands still on your hips with a grip so tight his nails dig into your skin leaving a trail of red marks.

your tummy feels warm and full, and bill’s thrusts in riding out his orgasm becomes all sloppy and sticky with how wet your cunt was.

you’re a hot mess, hair falling everywhere and body all sweaty. mouth lolled out as your head rest atop bill’s shoulder drool falling out.

he taps your shoulder and you raise your head to look at him, unable to open your eyes with how bill fucked the energy out of you.

“you okay maus?”

“mhm..” you nod at him as he places a sweet and gentle kiss onto your lips. all you can do is blush and smile, taking in how pretty bill is for a cop.

he shifts while still inside you, grabbing a key to unlock the handcuffs that left little marks of bruising on your wrist.

you rub your hands to smooth over the irritation. bill taking note of this swiftly grabs them and places a kiss on top of the marks. your cheeks burn red as he burn a gaze into your eyes, not looking away.

“did so damn good schatz, hope i fucked all that crime committing business outta ya.”

a/n : i hate this. i’m so sorry anon i feel like i disappointed you 😔😔😔

[derfpossessions]

Rented You Out - Part 4

Our story continues on with Denholm and Markus searching for a new client that is willing to rent Denholm’s body out for a spin. The hospital bills are rising up again, and the two needs their classic gig to pay out the loans.

While they were there, a woman named Natasha approached them and heard of their services. “Heyy, you’re that Denholm guy that can be rented from the black market right?” She giggled. “Uhhh.. yeah, but I don’t remember someone booking an appointment with me today..” He replied.

“Oh come on, I just decided I’d come and see you in-person! So, when can I use you?” She slowly walked up to them. “Girl wait… so you’re the one using his body?”, Markus said, who is starting to get suspicious about her. “You think only men can try out men bodysuits?? Stop with the gender roles!” She got lowkey pissed.

“Anyways, can I try it on first before I settle with the deal?” She couldn’t resist her temptation to try on the suit. “Ok, I’ll show you right now..” Denholm taps the button and he goes into suit-mode. Natasha entered his body and it and opened her eyes in his new masculine physique.

“Woahh.. something’s hard down there! Omg this is sooo fucking cool!” She was giggling as she felt Denholm’s cock.

“It must be fun being a man you know, I’m doing this for a social experiment for my case study.” She added, while looking enthusiastic. She then started rubbing in his body and looked at her new reflection in the phone camera. “Ok time’s up girl the free trial’s over. get out of him.” Markus said as he unzipped Denholm and pulled her out. “Ok I think I like it! I would pay more if you want!” She said.

“Uhh.. well I better get ready then. Just so you know you have to make the payment first before you’ll be able to use the suit.” Denholm said nervously.

“Ok ok. No rush, take your time and I’ll meet you tonight.” She said and then left the two. The two then continued on going to class.

“Are you sure you want that girl to use your body? She sounds like she’s on meth!” Markus told Denholm while walking down the hallway.

“Well if she’s paying anyway then we can’t refuse on a customer.” Denholm sighed. Things are about to get strange from this point onward.

While they were walking they saw a peculiar man cleaning the windows. With him he had a large cart full of boxes. “That’s weird, I never noticed that staff here before.” Markus told Denholm. As they passed by the man, they accidentally knocked off one of the boxes, and the man panicked an stormed off with the cart. “Bro what’s wrong with that guy?” Denholm said while Markus looks down to see the weird box. Inside the box there’s a garbage bag sealed with duct tape. The box was a quite heavy, so they brought it to a nearby classroom.

To their surprise, there was something rubbery-like in the bag, and when they opened it, it’s a folded up bodysuit.

“Woah what the fuck?!” The two got shocked by the looks of the bodysuit. They carefully undressed the man from the formal suit he was wearing. It was a little bit drenched in sweat, and the it smelled like it just came fresh from the gym. “Holyyyy shittt?!!” Markus screamed as they started unfolding the suit on top of the table.

It was a bodysuit of a man, probably in his early 20s, and is ethnically East Asian. “Well he looks like your local gym rat, and a total fuckboy.” Markus jokingly said (he was right tho). “So, looks like there’s a lot more bodysuits out there, not just me.” Denholm said while touching the man’s deflated rubbery arm. They tried flipping the man over to see if he has a switch that is similar to Denholm’s. “Let’s bring this man back to life shall we?” Markus said. They flipped the switch, but there was no response. The suit remained a little deflated, and hollow. The two started getting scared. “Don’t tell me.. don’t tell me this guy is dead..” Denholm was shaking.

“Found one of them I see?” Mr Singh came in to join the fun. The two gasped. “What are you doing here?!”

“Well I knew one day you two would see the others.”

Denholm: “What do you mean… the others..??”

Singh: “You see, your case as a bodysuit isn’t as rare as you might think. Lots of people around this city, fall bait into the numerous kidnappings that occurred. They get taken away in a van, never to be seen again.”

“What happens to them next? They’ll be put in a large factory where humans are transformed into bodysuits. Their organs, their insides are replaced and retrofitted to become a fully wearable suit, or whatever the fuck magic they do in that place.”

“You should be very grateful you’re even alive. Some people like you do survive the suit process and manage to escape, not knowing how to be able to cope with their lives being changed forever. And then there’s the unfortunate people. The ones who are put into the deep sleep, and forced to be worn as lifeless mascot suits for the rest of their lives. The people who wear them have full access to their past lives and memories, and may choose to continue on that original life, or reinvent their past lives, or a mixture of both.”

“That man right there… had a girlfriend, aiming for his degree in Engineering, getting ripped at the gym. all of that was taken away from him on one night. Now it’s up to his users if they want to live upon his legacy.”

“That’s all I know for now. I don’t know if there’s ever a cure to this condition of being converted into a suit, but it really sucks for these people.”

Denholm got furious. “I must stop this madness then. I’m gonna put an end to it.”

Markus stopped him, “Are you stupid?! You almost got killed yourself! Our goal is to stay out of from their sight as much as possible!”

“Markus is right. Don’t worry, it will all be better soon.” Mr Singh said. “Well I gotta go teach my class now. You two, stay safe and don’t get yourselves into trouble.”

Markus carried the suit to the backroom. “Hey, one more thing Denny.” Singh grinned.

“With those hot charisma you have, you sure ARE a great kisser.” Singh winked and left. (see part 2 if u dont get what he meant)

“Wha… what did he meant?” Denholm was in shock.

“Nothing! just some side jobs while he was renting you out!” Markus was sweating and turned around from Denholm to avoid eye contact.

“Listen. I trusted you into making sure I don’t get harmed in any way but if you get your weird shit into the conversation I will won’t hesitate to-“ a thud was suddenly heard.

“-to give you all the love you want and need.. babe.”

“What..?” Markus was frozen. Whatever the fuck he heard wasn’t Denholm.

“MR SINGH?!! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING INSIDE HIM?!!” Markus screamed.

“I’m trying to save you from getting beaten up! Now go clean this mess up!” Singh laughed.

“Well on one thought.. I think I do want a kiss..” Markus leaned forward from good old Denny and they had a mouth to mouth embracement, with their tongues locking intertwined, forming a heart shape from the divine.

“Pull down your pants. This will only take 8 minutes trust me.” Singh giggled as he took off Denny’s hoodie.

And then the rest is history…

- TO BE CONTINUED -

[thezombieprostitute]

Dream Come True - Part 1

Summary: The “Garbage Men” are the guys in the mob who get the dirt on others and clean up after the higher ups. They have many different ways of gathering intel by running legitimate businesses. One such business is Jefferson/Jensen’s cyber cafe where you regularly go to work. You’ve actually become good friends with Jefferson’s daughter and Jensen’s niece. You even volunteered as their after-school tutor. One day, there’s a robbery attempt where you get hurt protecting the girls. This is how you are introduced to Curtis Everett, the guy in charge of the “Garbage Men”.

A/N: Reader is plus sized, femme. No other descriptors used.

Warnings: Shooting mentioned, not written. American healthcare system. Bullying with an emphasis on fat shaming. Please let me know if I miss any!

Part 2

Series Masterlist

Curtis stormed into the manor. Normally he didn’t care for visiting the higher ups, surrounded by their opulence but this wasn’t normal circumstances. He headed straight for Steve and Bucky’s office, the folder Jake compiled for him under his arm. As much as Curtis wanted to act on this he knew he had to get permission first, as Mace kept reminding him. 

As soon as he entered the office, the Bosses greeted him. 

“The nieces are okay?”

“Yes,” Curtis replied. “We did a priority background search on the would-be thief. Found no connections to other families so he was likely just an idiot trying to get some quick cash.”

“And the guy who took the bullet,” Bucky asked.

“She is currently in the hospital,” Curtis felt his fists tighten, thinking about her situation. “It wasn’t life threatening, just a quick surgery but she’s not gonna be allowed to walk for a few weeks.”

The bosses nodded their heads, “you made sure Beck is her doctor?”

“Yup. But there’s a hitch that I need permission to fix,” Curtis took the folder out from under his arm. “She got fired for missing some big meeting. First person she called was her boss, to explain what happened, and the asshole fired her over the phone. Now she’s trying to leave the hospital way too early because she’s scared of not being able to afford the care.”

Steve and Bucky looked astonished at this information. “Who the hell fires someone for that? Especially when she has the proof to back her story,” Bucky huffed. “You got that information, right?”

“We got it months ago when she first started tutoring the nieces,” Curtis affirmed. “Had to make sure she wasn’t someone playing the long game.” He handed the folder to Bucky who opened it. The men took a few seconds to find her boss’s name. Curtis was pleased to see Steve’s eyes go steely with anger. 

Steve looked at Curtis, “I’ll make sure he gets handled.”

Bucky cut in, “for now, work with Huffman to get the paperwork settled. Officially, she’s been employed by us, as a tutor, for months. We’ll make sure the backpay gets added to her account. Beck and Jensen can work to make sure her insurance goes back as well.”

Curtis nodded his thanks and left to go back to the hospital. Hopefully she hadn’t succeeded in leaving.

“Please,” you plead through tears, “please just let me go home.”

Dr. Beck shook his head, “that would be wildly irresponsible of me. You have no emergency contacts, which tells me you have no one to help you out at home. You need to stay off of your leg for at least a week and you need help to do that. If that means keeping you here for that week, so be it.”

“I can’t af-” 

Dr. Beck interrupts, “I’ve been in touch with some people, namely the family of those two girls you rescued. You’re not paying for anything and they insist you get your full rest here.”

“I…” you’re flabbergasted at the news. Jake and Jefferson had always been kind but you never got the impression they were so well off they could cover someone else’s medical bills. You can’t stop crying. It’s been a tumultuous day.

There was a knock outside the privacy curtain and a deep voice asking, “is it okay to come in?”

“Yeah, come on in,” Dr. Beck replied. “Been expecting you.” He turns to the source of the voice. Walking to your bed is a tall, muscular man with a buzz cut, beard and the most piercing blue eyes you’ve ever seen. You blink back tears and try to compose yourself. Crying around medical staff is one thing. Crying around strangers who might not be used to tears is something else.

“I’m Curtis,” he holds out his hand to you.

“Hi,” you shake his hand, confusion written all over your face.

“I’m here to inform you that you do, in fact, have medical insurance. You also have backpay.” Curtis starts putting paperwork on the patient table in front of you. “You’ve been tutoring my nieces for several months. The least we could do is make sure you’re being paid for your time, complete with benefits. Just need you to sign a few things.”

“What?” Far from answering your questions, you find yourself even more in the dark. “I…I don’t understand…”

“You helped my family,” Curtis replied. “Not only did you offer your time and patience, you’ve given your health and well-being. The least me and mine can do is take care of you.”

“I, uh,” you hesitate, trying not to insult, “are you sure you can afford this?”

“Yes.” There was no room for argument in Curtis’s tone. His face was stern and you discerned no cracks indicating he was lying in any way.

“I don’t know what to say,” you whisper.

“Don’t say anything,” Curtis tells you. “Just sign here, here and here.”

With a look to Dr. Beck, who gives you a reassuring smile and nod, you take the proffered pen and shakily sign where Curtis tells you to.

“And, with that,” Curtis gently smiles, “you were officially hired by us three months ago as a private tutor for two of our nieces. When you’ve recovered, you will return to your work and we may have more for you to do.”

Ransom was having a great day. His ugly assistant missed a big meeting and he finally had grounds to fire her. She'd been hired by his grandfather so he couldn't just get rid of her without a reason. He even encouraged her remote work so he wouldn't have to look at her. Now he could hire an assistant on his own and actually pick someone easy on the eyes.

It's not like the job was difficult. He needed someone who could research stuff he needed to know for his writing. Anyone could do that. He could, too, but he didn't want to and could afford to hire someone else to do it for him.

He was in the middle of writing up the job ad when the door to his office slammed open, making him jump. Steve Rogers was glaring at him as he strode into the room.

“Rogers,” Ransom smiled. “To what do I owe the honor?”

“Did you hear what happened to the nieces today?”

“Jake and Jefferson's girls? No.” Ransom was genuinely concerned. Those girls were spoiled by everyone in the families but they still managed to be the sweetest people he knew.

“There was an attempted robbery at the shop,” Steve continued, walking closer and closer to Ransom. “They were nearly shot by the idiot. Thankfully, they were rescued and someone else took the bullet.”

As Steve sat down on the desk Ransom started putting some pieces together. He wasn't an idiot. The nieces almost being shot and his assistant actually being shot? It would also explain the rage emanating from Rogers.

“The woman who took the bullet requires a lot of medical care. But, of course, she can't afford it since her asshole of a boss fired her.”

Ransom gulped, “I can hire her back. Say it was a moment of anger, a mistake that never should've happened.”

Steve stood and pulled up Ransom by the front of his sweater, forcing him to stand on his toes. “Do you remember,” Steve growled, “why we had to send Lloyd into exile?”

“Too many casualties?”

“Close. He viewed people as expendable. This family got started by helping others. Helping the Unions. Supporting the communities. So when you treat someone like that, you disrespect all of us.”

Steve let go of Ransom’s sweater, setting him on his feet. Without warning, he punched Ransom in the stomach so hard he doubled over.

“You are on notice,” Steve told him. “You've been straddling the line for some time now. But one more slip, and you're gone. Understood?”

Ransom coughed, “yeah, I get it.”

“And you don't have to hire her back. We got her a much better boss.”

Part 2

Tagging @alicedopey because I promised I would.

@dontbescaredtosingalong

@icefrozendeadlyqueen

@texmexdarling

@veltana

@winter-soldier-101

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged.

[outlawruben]

I love when quote generator is accurate here’s a few that I got:

Sean: Welcome to my very first vlog, in which I try different hair products!

Sean: *sprays hairspray in his mouth*

Sean: Well, right off the bat I can tell you this one is not very good.

—————

Dutch: If there are no questions, we'll move on to the next chapter.

Arthur: I have a question.

Dutch: Certainly, Arthur. What is it?

Arthur: What's the point of human existence?

Dutch: I meant any questions about the subject at hand.

Arthur : Oh.

Arthur: Frankly, l'd like to have the issue resolved before I expend any more energy on this

—————-

Dutch, to Hosea: Well, one of us has to be wrong and it's not going to be me.

—————-

Dutch: If you really want to get back at a man, scare him with a pregnancy test. I've got a whole box of old positives at my house.

Micah: You're an American treasure.

—————-

Arthur: I'm going to get myself some soup.

Hosea : Be careful not to burn yourself, it's hot.

Arthur: Pfft, I won't burn myself.

*30 seconds later*

Arthur, entering the room: I burned myself

—————-

Pearson: Tommorrow's garbage day.

Sadie: I can't believe they made a whole day dedicated to you.

—————-

Arthur: Oh, they left the bowl out?

Arthur: It says, "Take two pieces of candy."

John: Nobody around though...

*John grabs the entire bowl and runs off with it*

Arthur : NO -

—————-

Dutch : Are pigeons drones?

Hosea: What? No, I'm trying to sleep.

Dutch: Think about it. How come you've never seen a baby pigeon? And why do you never actually see a pigeon nest? Because they're DRONES!

Hosea: *Crying* Please let me sleep...

————-

Charles : Are you ready to commit?

Arthur: Like, a crime or a relationship?

————-

Dutch: I think I just figured something out. I got to go.

Hosea: Aren't you forgetting something?

Dutch : Uuh...*hesitantly kisses Hosea's forehead before running out.*

Hosea: No, pay your bill! Damn, who raised you??

————-

Arthur : I'm trash.

Charles : As someone who's environmentally conscious, it's my duty to pick you up. Does 7:00 work for you?

Arthur :

Arthur : You smooth motherfucker. And yes, it does.

————-

Javier walking into the kitchen and seeing all their limes peeled: John, I love you but, what the h-e-double FUCK.

John, sipping coffee happily: I love you too

————-

*Sadie comes home absolutely drunk, undresses, and stands in Abigail's bedroom.*

Abigail: Babe, are you.. coming to bed?

Sadie: No thank you, I'm sure you're lovely but I have a girlfriend.

Sadie: *Lies on the ground and falls asleep*

Abigail: ….

————-

John : This date is boring!

Javier: This isn't a date. I said I was going to the store.

John: Then why did you invite me?

Javier: I didnt, I specifically said "don't come with me," then you said, "fuck you Javier I'll do whatever I want!”

————-

Sadie : Talk dirty to me, baby~

Abigail: The dishes.

Sadie : Wh-

Abigail: They've been there for 4 days and it's your turn to wash them. You still haven't cleaned them and I have asked you to do it several times.

————-

Thank you.

[aesthetic-bbyg]

hey, can i request a tom x puerto rican female reader? Kinda similar to the chola one but it's in new york instead of la🤭omgggg. It can be any era idm sjensjsj

AY, BENDITO ~ TOM K.

Tom Kaulitz x reader

In which a determined Tom won’t stop till you accept his offer to take you out.

Nattie speaks: Yayayaya!! Im excited to write this bc I literally love Puerto Ricans sm like y’all are real ones ong🙏. Keep the request coming in bc I def wanna start writing more on here!

YOU NEARLY GROANED AS you saw the boy approach, your friend, Daniela, giggled from beside you just watching in amusement. Nearly everyday, Tom Kaulitz managed to find you and ask you the same question.

“You free tonight?” His German accent so alluring yet you knew you couldn’t, and you wouldn’t. Yes, you will admit that Tom was a very attractive boy, you liked him a lot, but you also knew the type of person he was. It seemed as though every girl you talked to had at least one interaction with the Kaulitz boy that ended in sex. “Come on, just one date and it’ll be worth it.”

You glared, turning back to the line and waiting for your lime flavored piragua, choosing to ignore him. You weren’t sure why he decided that picking you as the main victim of his pestering was good idea but each day it annoyed you more. There we’re even some where you nearly gave in and excepted his offer but ultimately walked away before the words could leave your mouth. Was the piragua guy purposely taking long to shave the ice or was it just you? The mix between the heat of New York and Tom’s blabbing in your ear made the tone feel slow.

“Enough!” You snapped, turning to face the boy who was listing off reasons as to why taking you to Señor Guzman’s pizza place would be the perfect first date for the two of you. “I already told you that I’m not interested in going out with you.”

You could hear your friend snickering beside you, “Ay bendito.” She was just observing and sipping the cool cherry flavored syrup from her cup. (Poor boy)

Tom only smirked, adjusting his hat and backing away with his hands up in defense. “Okay, okay, I hear you, I will come back tomorrow.”

You sighed heavily as he walked away, “Don’t come back at all!” You yelled, but he didn’t turn around or do anything to acknowledge your words, based on his past actions you knew he would be back.

“Aquí está.” The tan man gave you the piragua in a small plastic cup, the shaved ice soaked in a lime-flavored syrup. Your demeanor immediately changed, a frustrated scowl turning into a soft grin with just one sip. You dig through your shorts, handing some bills before walking off. (Here you go)

“At this point, it’d be better to accept his date then reject it, Amiga.” Daniela spoke up, giving you a knowing look as she shoved some of the ice in her mouth, letting it melt on her tongue.

“No quiero, Dani, to give him the satisfaction of taking out another girl would be like hell to me.” You argued back, “He just doesn’t take a hint, and everyday he comes and bothers me about something.” (I don’t want to)

“If you really about it.” Daniela began making you roll your eyes. “I’m starting to think that he really likes you and isn’t just playing around to get in your pants.”

You turned to her with furrowed brows, “What do you mean, it Tom fucking Kaulitz, of course he’s gon’ something involving.”

“When’s the last time you heard of him hooking up with someone?” Daniela asked, watching a a you shrugged your shoulders. “Exactly, and don’t you think that it’s strange how Tom is constantly flirting with you, only you.”

“I think it’s very strange, and annoying, ya me tiene esta los cielos, Dani.” You huffed, stopping as you arrived in front of her apartment building. (he has me up to the sky)

“Just take a moment and think, he totally got a thing for you because he’s putting in actual effort, not just shooting out some lame pick up lines.” Your friend tossed her cup into a nearby garbage bin before climbing up the steps. “He likes you, and I know you like him.”

You processed her words as you made it back to your own home, the refreshing snack cleared up your mind from its previous annoyed state. It made you frustrated, how could it be that a player was suddenly wanting to get with you of all people. For as long as you could remember, Tom would always flirt with you, it gave you a string of hope before he ended up in another girls room that same day. If the reason why you became so cold, more brutal with your rejections then before.

Walking into the house, your auntie and mom were in the kitchen, they could already sense the annoyance radiating off you. “Nena, que tú tiene?” Your auntie questioned, raising her thinly drawn eyebrow at you. “And don’t bullshit me.” (Girl, what is wrong?)

“María!” Your mother scolded towards her sister, “Don’t be using those groserías in front of my daughter.” You walked into the kitchen, jumping onto the counter as you watched your mother cut up some chicken. (Bad words)

“You know Tom K, el aleman te la esquina?” You began, getting the attention of both of the woman. (The German from the corner)

“El que tiene un hermano emo?” You auntie asked, placing a hand on her hip. (the one that has an emo brother?)

“Titi.” You warned as she threw her hands up in defense, “Bueno, pues, he’s been asking me out for the past five months.”

Your mother let out a dramatic gasp, stopping her motions and looking at you, “Cinco meses? Y qué carajo todavía haces aquí?” (five months? And what the hell are you still doing here?)

You groaned, throwing your head back, “No salir con el, mama, he’s a player, I’ve been sayin’ no each time.” Your tía grinned, clapping your hands. (I don’t want to go out with him)

“Mira, no mas!” She squealed, shaking your shoulders proudly, “Mi nenita ya tiene todo los hombres a sus pies.” (Well, well, my little girl already had all the men at her feet)

“Ay, no titi, no quiero salir con el, qué pasa si no mas me trata como otra.” You frowned, feeling your mom place a comforting hand on your shoulder. (I don’t want to go out with him, what happens if he just treats my like any other?)

“If he does anything.” She threateningly raised the knife that she was chopping up vegetables with. “You just come to me.”

“Mhmm.” You tía hummed in agreement, “Just gimme that address and you won’t have to worry about it.” Her serious face was then replaced by a bright smile. “Pero, you should totally go out with him.” (But)

“Dani was sayin something about how he might be interested since he’s been trying to hard, and just earlier when I was getting Piragua from Señor Rodríguez he came up to me.” The two woman listened intently, “He asked me out again and I said no, and when he said he’ll come back tomorrow I said he should never.”

The woman in front of you winced, “Ay, bendito.” They said in unison, making your frown even deeper. Maybe you were too harsh. (Poor boy)

“But since he’s so adamant on me, saying yes then he probably does have some interest. Well, that’s what Dani thinks.”

“Mira, nena.” Your tía placed her tan hands on your shoulders, “Back in my day, yo traía todos los hombres, tu mama era una virgencita.” (Listen, girl. I had all the men, your mom was a virgen)

“Ey!” Your mother slapped your tias arm angrily, making your scrunch your face up. “I was just waiting to find the right hombre.” (Man)

“Pero esperaste unos mil años.” The woman turned back to you, “As I was sayin’, no matter how much a man tried to be all playa’ by sleeping around with women and shit, the thing that’s gonna touch his heart is when a woman cares. So the next time he comes up to you and ask you out, you say yes when you go on your first date, show him that you’re interested.” (But you waited some thousand years)

You sighed heavily, “I’m nervous.”

“Why? Because you’ve been crushing on him since you were a kid?” Your mother questioned, tossing all the ingredients she’d been cutting up into a boiling pot of water. You eyes widened, mouth opening to say something before shutting itself up. “No crees que no te visto, te gusta, and I know it.” (Don’t think I haven’t seen you, you like him)

You hop of the counter and head into your room, you pick up the small phone that was sitting on your bed, clicking in Daniela’s phone number. In just a few rings the girl picked up with her usual chirpy voice. “Wassup, Amiga?”

“Dani, I’m gonna say yes the next time Tom asks me out.” You spit out quickly, not wasting a second to pause in between words. It was nearly inaudible but Dani still registered every syllable instantly.

“No way!” She squealed, “No me chingas amiga!” (Don’t fuck with me, bestie!)

“I’m bein’ for real.” You smiled slightly at her excitement, fiddling with the gold necklace nervously. “The next time he comes up to me, I’ll say yes.”

“WHERE THE HELL IS HE?” You asked anxiously, eyes looking around to see if he’d magically pop up. The day had nearly reached an end, the sun beginning to lower itself into the horizon while you and Dani had walked around the area multiples times. By this time, Tom would’ve already walked up to you, gripping his baggy pants, a shit eating grin on his face, German-laced accent speaking the same words that you usually rejected, it almost became a routine.

But today you hadn’t seen him, it begun to make you nervous and ask the sun disappeared and the street lights flickered on, you sighed sadly. Never did you think you’d be so sad about not being pestered by Tom, in fact, you wished for a day like this. Now that you have it, you realize how boring the day has been, not hearing him or his corny pickup lines made it feel like a puzzle piece was missing.

“It’s okay.” Daniela rubbed a soothing hand up and down your back, “Maybe tomorrow, he could be busy with his band.”

“But he said he’d be back.” You frowned deeply, shoulders slumping, feet dragging on the pavement as you walked back home. You did the usual, dropped of Daniela first, her right hug lingering longer then usual before you walked the next few blocks to your own home. Just as you stepped on the steps that lead up to your front door a repetitive shuffle caught your attention.

“Hey, gorgeous.” Tom held flowers in one hand, the other one timidly waving at you. You’d never that you’d be so happy to see him, a smile would’ve taken over your features but you held back. Keeping a straight face as he held out the roses. “I got these..for you.”

Your eyes widened, taking the flowers and blushing. “Thank you, how’d you know these were my favorite?”

“You told me.” He smiled softly, it made your heart flutter and stomach twist into knots. “And, uh..I wanted to ask you, again, if you’d wanna go out with me?” He fiddled with the bands around his wrist, expecting the usual words of no and a slammed door in his face, but you have a warm smile instead.

“Yeah, I’m free on Friday.” You tried to hold the eye contact but his eyes practically hypnotized you, you stared down the roses, a shy smile on your lips. “I’m sorry for being mean on the past times.”

Tom chuckled, demeanor shifting from an laid back player to a timid lover boy who was stupidly excited that his crush finally said yes. “It’s okay gorgeous.”

An awkward beat of silence engulfed the air before you leaned forward, pecking his cheek and watching as the red blush creeped up onto his face. “I’ll see you Friday then.” You mumbled, hand gripping the door handle and pushing it open. You looked towards the boy one last time, “Bye Tom.”

“Bye, gorgeous.”

I hate using y/n if y’all couldn’t alr tell by the amount of pet-names I have in all my fics. 😭 I tried my best to capture the Puerto Rican culture but as someone who isn’t really familiar, I don’t really know if I did all that good. Apologies if there was some errors in some areas!! either way I enjoyed writing this fic and loved the idea!! Ik it got corny at the end but pls ignore that.

hehehe

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Nobody's Girl - Chapter Two.

Ask and ye shall recieve, besties! Thrilled at how well-received the first chapter was, thank you all so much for your feedback :)

Previous chapters - One

Taglist - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed

Words - 3,445

Warnings - Adult content throughout, minors DNI!

The sound of a garbage can hitting the sidewalk from the street below with a clatter was what roused Emily from her long, deep sleep the morning after, coming to and not immediately realising where she was. Until she smelled him on the sheets.  

While his scent lingered, the man himself was nowhere to be found, but he had left her a note. A note and a stack of cash.  

‘I have business to deal with, I’ll be back later. Go buy yourself some clothes and whatever else you need. Two of my guys, Angelo and Donny will be waiting for you downstairs. They’ll look after you.’ 

His writing was elegant and loopy, very fine penmanship, she thought, placing the note down and getting out of bed, remaking it neatly. Picking up the crisp stack of bills, her eyes bulged. All fifties. Twenty of them.  

“A grand?” she gasped, her mouth dropping open. He’d left her a thousand dollars, like it was small change! 

Placing the money back down again, she ventured to the bathroom, the only part of the apartment that was walled off from the rest. Looking at herself in the mirror, she could count it as a small mercy that Joey rarely touched her face, she supposed, always wanting to keep her pretty, as he once worded it after a beating. His body shot punches were a different matter. The soreness lingering over her ribs and stomach attested that, although she doubted anything was broken.  

Her eye was tinged with the violet and shadowy green of bruising, but gladly not swollen, the same to the side of her mouth and both cheekbones. It wasn’t ideal as visages went, to have her looks marred like that, Emily always taking pride in her appearance. Looking on at her reflection, a few tears of relief pooled her eyes, realising that the wounds he’d inflicted upon her were all that was left of the scumbag that was Joey Calabrese. 

Once she was washed and refreshed, she dressed in the other clean shirt left for her, pulling on the grey coat he’d also placed with it, thinking what a mess she looked. A sullied face, no shoes, no underwear (hers were still hanging to dry after she’d washed them in the sink the night before) and wearing men’s clothes that buried her.  

And she was about to go out in public? The utter shame of it.  

Emily quickly realised that she didn’t have a whole lot of choice in the matter, though, so all she could do was go with it. What made nerves pool in her belly more was the fact that she now had to place her faith in somebody who wasn’t Luca, two somebody’s in fact. Her trust in their boss was only tentative at best, after all.  

Was she really being taken to purchase clothes, or was something else more nefarious about to befall her? What if he’d struck a deal with Gino for her return? The words lamb and slaughter came rapidly to mind. Realising she was panicking and so far, Luca had shown no real signs of deception, she took a breath at the top of the stairs before padding down, swinging the door open and turning right.  

Two very large men turned in their seats at the bar, wide smiles greeting her. “Hey, sleepy head. I’m Angelo, this is Donny. The boss told us to take you out someplace nice for clothes. My wife tells me that new place Barney’s is the best, so we’re takin’ you over to Manhattan. You ready, toots?” 

He received an elbow and an eye roll from his cohort. “Can’t just be callin’ her toots like you know her, man,” he admonished lightly, extending his hand. “Miss Mortensen, a pleasure. I’m Donny, anythin’ you want, just ask, alright?” She shook his hand, Donny bringing it to his lips to place a little kiss upon her dainty fingers.  

“Oh, look at this guy over here,” Angelo chirped, “Mr Smooth, amirite?” 

“Screw you, pal. Gotta treat the ladies with respect, eh? Plus, she’s the boss's gal and I ain’t lookin’ to get clipped for my yap, know what I’m sayin’?” 

They were a pair, she had to admit, set at ease by their little back and forth banter. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both, too. I’m not Luca’s girl, though.” 

Angelo lifted his chin with a little grunt. “Wearin’ his clothes, came from his apartment, he told us to look after you and treat you nice. Yeah, you the boss’s gal, toots.”  

“Enough with the toots, already! This guy and his lip,” Donny chuckled, offering his arm to Emily. “Let’s go, huh?”  

Her giggles peppered the air, taking the arm of the younger man, Angelo ambling along behind them. “See? Even left us his best car to take you out in. If you ain’t his gal then trust me, the big man is definitely sweet on ya, wanting you taken out in the Rolls.”  

“Woah,” she gasped, seeing the shiny, black Silver Ghost parked at the curb, a car of esteemed value and luxury. “Oh my god, it’s beautiful.” 

“Ain’t it, though?” Donny spoke, opening the door for her and gesturing in. “Drives like a dream, too.”  

The men mostly talked between themselves for the duration of the journey, asking her a few questions here and there along the way. Truly there wasn’t much more they could converse with her about, for what did two mobsters and a naive twenty-three-year-old woman truly have in common? Not a whole lot.  

“So, the big man says you’re a sunshine state gal,” Angelo broached, looking at her in the rear-view mirror. “What part ya from?”  

“San Francisco,” she replied. 

“Get outta here, I gotta cousin from my wife’s side who lives out there!” he laughed warmly. “Hey, how about those Giants, huh? We whooped ‘em big style this year!” 

“Oh, I don’t really follow baseball. I take it you’re a Yankees fan?” 

“Until my dying breath, toots!”  

The demeanour of the men set her at ease, even more so when they entered Manhattan, a place she had only been to once before. The buildings loomed huge overhead, Emily looking out of the window with curiosity filled eyes, Donny nudging Angelo and jerking his head back with a smile at her wonder.  

“Oh, it’s so fancy,” she exclaimed, looking up at the department store once they’d parked up and alighted the car, her gaze then falling down to her bare feet. Discomfort tingled through her chest and down her legs. “And I have to go in there like this.”  

“Eh, don’t you stress about it, you hear?” Angelo spoke, offering his arm. “You gonna get all fixed up even prettier than you are, I tell ya. Let’s go.” 

Donny swung the doors open, following them into the hustle and bustle of the store, Emily feeling like such a fish out of water as she gazed around. It was all so indulgent, so luxurious, and there she was, a poor girl from San Francisco, barefoot and makeup free, with her roots showing and her face all marked up. 

It didn’t take long for her appearance to draw stares. From clientele to staff alike. One particular woman working within the ladies' clothing section was absolutely not shy in looking her up and down several times, Emily dropping her head in embarrassment, letting her pale waves cover her face.  

Oh, no. That would not do. 

“Hey you, with the twisted-up mouth like a dog’s asshole,” Angelo began, clicking his fingers at the woman and pointing before him, pulling out a fat wad of bills from his pocket. “We got a lotta dough to spend in here, and it’s your job to make Miss Mortensen happy while she’s goin’ about it. So, set your face straight and hop to it.”  

Her eyes bulged at being handed a fifty, the woman fixing her face in a wide, friendly smile that had not existed prior to knowing that the well-dressed men and the poor looking, barefooted scrap who accompanied them were, in fact, likely the wealthiest people in the store. Maybe the girl was of some kind of European aristocracy, she wondered? Perhaps a little eccentric, hence the men’s clothes and bare feet?  

“Certainly, sir,” she nodded, turning to Emily with a smile. “Good morning, Miss Mortensen. My name is Ivy, and it would be my pleasure to show you some of our garments. What are we in the market for today?” 

“Everything, four times over,” Donny spoke, winking at Emily when she smiled up at him. “Go on, you go enjoy yourself. We’ll be right here, darlin’.” She was a little reluctant to move away from them, Donny remembering Luca specifically stating to treat her with care and never leave her alone, even for a second, watching her relax when he stepped forward and accompanied her as she began browsing the clothing.  

Dresses, blouses, skirts, pants, shoes, underwear, stockings, cardigans, shawls, purses and hats were all perused and gathered, Emily having a wail of a time trying everything on and playing model for her approving audience.  

“Beautiful, stunning, get in black, too!” Angelo enthused as she twirled in a deep red fringed dress, he and Donny clapping. She presumed them to be merely humouring her, of course thinking she was the boss’s girl, no matter how much she corrected them to the contrary. The two mafioso’s were genuinely having a good time with their young companion, though, watching this girl who looked like she’d never had two pennies to rub together suddenly catapulted into a world of splendour.  

“You need a fur too, toots. Here, feel this. Mink. Gorgeous, ain’t it? I got one for my wife last week. I swear, she’d sleep in the thing!” Angelo spoke, approaching with a gorgeous, pale grey coat. Emily placed her arms in, pulling it over her shoulders, turning to look at herself in the mirror.  

How was this her life?  

“How much is it?” she asked the assistant. 

“Two hundred and thirty dollars, Miss Mortensen.” 

She’d been adding it up in her head, her running total for the items she’d already chosen. God, it cost even more than all of them put together. Turning to Angelo, she bit her lip nervously. “Do I take it?” 

“Of course, ya take it! How much did your man give ya?” 

“A grand,” she confirmed, the burly man laughing softly. 

“Well, he gave me an extra G on top of that, should you go too wild. Told me to make sure you had a good time, so let’s see to gettin’ you a chinchilla too. You’ll need different ones for different outfits, amirite? I know you dames like that.”  

She had a thousand, and Angelo had a backup thousand. Good god, her head was spinning. The chinchilla coat was tried on, Emily falling in love with it, choosing an outfit to wear right away and going to dress while the assistant took her purchases to the sales desk and rang everything up. All in all, it came to seven hundred and twenty dollars.  

She felt faint.  

A trip to the cosmetics department, and she’d spent almost another hundred on high end makeup, perfume, face creams, necessities for her hair, etcetera. No matter how much the guys encouraged her, she still felt guilty, knowing it wasn’t her money and she hadn’t done a thing to earn it.  

“Yeah, you did,” Donny spoke after she had voiced that thought to him, his arms laden with bags as they left the store. “You saved the boss’s life by tellin’ him about what was under his car.” 

She supposed if that was the way Luca expressed his gratitude, she could live with it. Still, she would have settled for a place to stay for the night and only that all the same. Afterwards, she was whisked across the city to a beautiful Italian restaurant for lunch, Emily feeling much more confident about her appearance after applying some makeup on the ride over.  

“Well, toots,” Angelo began at the doors, taking her hand and kissing it. “We had a real good time with you, but this is where we leave ya. Don’t worry about your things, we’ll get it all back to Brooklyn.” 

“See ya, darlin’.” Donny spoke, offering her the same before they turned and left, Emily quite confused as the Maitre'd approached.  

“Miss Mortensen, your table is ready. Please follow me.” 

Were they really leaving her to dine in the city alone? How on earth would she get back to Brooklyn? She didn’t even know Luca’s address! All her thoughts swirled as her heart began to hammer, being led through the grand looking restaurant, Emily looking up and feeling her worries melt in an instant. 

“Well, don’t you scrub up beautiful, huh?” Luca spoke, rising to his feet and taking her hand, kissing it softly. “You have a good time with the guys?”  

“I did, thank you,” she spoke, suddenly feeling a little shy. “Thank you so much, too, for leaving me the cash. I have change, here.”  

At watching her delve a hand into her pocket, he shook his head, touching a hand to her arm. “No, doll. That’s your money, not mine.” God, she was just so adorable. No other woman he’d ever encountered would think to be that courteous as to try and return the cash she hadn’t spent to him. The man pulled in roughly two million a year, and here was this sweet little flower, trying to give him change.  

“How has your morning been so far?” she asked courteously, Luca taking the bottle of carbonated water from the table and pouring a glass for her. It still aggrieved him, that he couldn’t enjoy a good bottle of wine while in a restaurant. Fuck the Volstead Act.  

“Busy, mainly. It’s how I like it, though. Profitable, too.” Translation; he’d personally visited a man who was proving to be a growing pain in his ass regarding his rum running operations, and duly shot him in the face for his behaviour. He’d then called upon another who owed him money, and broken a finger for every week he’d been late to pay him. Four fingers had ended up bent out of shape, Luca walking away with his money plus a hefty late payment fee.  

It was good being king. 

It hit him then, realising that it had been a long, long time since anybody had asked him how his day had gone. It was so simple, yet so profound that she had the courtesy to genuinely inquire. The whores he fucked never did, obviously. His ex-wife seldom had, that was for sure. He rested his chin in a clasp between his thumb and forefingers as he viewed her inquisitively, Emily just about able to see the smile beginning to grow from beneath his hand.  

“What?” she asked, feeling uncomfortable to be caught in a gaze so focused. “Do I have something on my face?”  

He closed his eyes, laughing softly through his nose. Fucking adorable, and it killed him. “No, baby. I just can’t remember the last time I met a woman like you.”  

“I saw the girls in your joint last night,” she began, shrugging a little, “You must meet pretty girls all time. I mean, not that I think I’m exceptionally pretty or anything.” 

Leaning forward suddenly, he covered her hand with his. “True, doll. I do meet pretty gals all the damned time. But that ain’t what I meant.” That bold, evergreen gaze of his fixed upon her so strongly, her heart skipped, Emily swallowing hard. Being fixed with a gaze of such intensity, she didn’t know whether to be nervous or excited, so settled for an equal measure of both. “You’re not like other women.”  

Shyness crept over her, her cheeks colouring as she bit her lip, the tattooed hand resting atop hers gently squeezing. “How can you know that? You barely know me.”  

“True.” His eyebrows fluttered slightly, leaning back again as he removed the toothpick from between his teeth, pointing right at her with a narrow-eyed gaze. “Says a whole lot about you that I can, though, don’t it?”  

The conflict within her ran so rampant, for a few moments she felt a little queasy, shrinking into the collar of her fur coat more, the chinchilla pelt soft against her cheeks, cheeks that prickled cerise, wishing she could hide how her emotions betrayed her feeble attempt to remain passive.  

She needn’t have felt bad. Nobody was a match for Luca Changretta once he’d set himself to unravel them.  

“Oh, and by the way,” he began, standing, adjusting his suit a little before touching a hand to her shoulder as he leaned down. “You are exceptionally pretty. Excuse me a moment.”  

He walked away grinning, leaving here there practically boiling under her collar. “Rack ‘em up and knock ‘em down.” he muttered smugly, trying to ignore the tight pull of protest against his scheming arrogance when it jabbed him in the chest. The voice telling him his desire to know more about who she was as well as what she knew could pipe the hell down, too. As could his heartbeat.  

Fuck.  

After using the restroom, he returned to the table to find a waiter hovering, looking at him nervously. Fear or awe; they were usually the top two reactions invoked by his presence.  

“Rib eye, rare. Emily, have whatever you want.”  

Lifting up the menu, she quickly scanned the dishes, thinning her lips as she tried to make a decision rapidly, so as not to hold the waiter up. None of it was familiar to her. “What would you recommend?” she asked coyly, looking up at the young man with the crisp, white notepad in his hand.  

“The chicken piccata is our special today, miss. An exceptionally excellent dish.”  

She nodded, handing over the menu. “One of those, please.”  

“Certainly.”  

She let her coat fall from her shoulders, deciding she felt comfortable enough not to hide in it and pulling her arms out, letting it drape over the back of the chair. The dress she wore was beautiful, Luca noted, realising that no matter how humble and poor her beginnings were, she had very good taste. He also very much enjoyed the way the black lace hugged her tiny frame.  

God, she was so little. Five feet two, if that. He’d be scared of breaking her, if he ever got her underneath him, pressed her to his bed, let his hands and mouth wander over her... 

“Do you come here regularly?” 

Her question shattered the glass that housed his impure, lustful thoughts, Luca reaching for his water and taking a sip. “I used to all the time, but not so much recently. Don’t wanna run into my ex, but I know for fact she’s in Florida with the kids right now.” 

She had wondered over his marital status, noticing that his apartment didn’t contain a drop of anything that could be constituted as a female presence. “Oh, sorry that you guys broke up,” she spoke out of courtesy, not really knowing how else to reply. 

He sniffed, rolling the toothpick in his mouth over his lower lip with his tongue. “Don’t be, I’m not.”  

“Didn’t end well, huh?�� 

“Nah. It’s probably mostly my fault, but yeah. Eighteen years over, because neither of us cared enough to save it. What about you? Any exes out there with burned bridges?”  

She laughed softly, shaking her head. She had to laugh, because little did he know but her involvement with men was so limited, it was fair to say she was severely stunted where relationships were concerned. Twenty-three and still a virgin by choice. Pathetic, really, she thought. Women her age were usually married with children, and she was still trying to find her way, but failing.  

He was giving her that look again, Emily feeling like she wanted to crawl under the table and hide from the intensity of his stare. Gathering herself a little, she quickly found something to take her mind of her sexual inadequacy. “So, these tattoos,” she began, tapping the number six atop his hand. “Do they hurt? How many do you have?” 

He couldn’t help himself. “Not much, it's a bit like a cat scratch. As for how many, maybe I’ll show you one day.”  

Her insides were reduced to smouldered ashes when he winked again, Luca watching her blush and drop her gaze. He truly couldn’t remember the last time he’d enjoyed having the upper hand so much.  

And the arrogant fool still told himself that this was all it was.  

[thelampisaflashlight]

A Lack of Engagement Pt. 8: Save The Date

[Previous Part: Here. The final installment in the ALOE series. I am first and foremost a delighter in chaos. This is what happens when you let me write while ill.] Below the cut.

While the groundskeeper drags the lake closest to the docks for any signs of the giant dick that started this whole mess, Rain and Dew spend their afternoon digging holes and carefully planting the blueberry bushes Bea had entrusted to them.

It's a tedious job, especially since neither of them knows how best to approach the situation; Whether it's better to dig all the holes first, or simply dig them one at a time, but either way the task is distracting enough for the two of them to spend most of it working in near silence.

Rain digs the holes and Dew sets the plants into the ground, carefully covering the roots, his nails slowly becoming encrusted in soil.

They wind up making a loose circle, spacing the bushes out with room to grow, and by the time they finish and take a moment to stand back and admire their hard work, Bea's approaching them once more.

"Hm, good job." she nods approvingly, placing her hands on her hips, "I appreciate the help."

Rain smiles, then looks past the woman towards the docks, "How did the search go...?"

Bea scratches her fingers through the short hair on top of her head, glancing back over at the water herself.

"Well, there's definitely something in the water over there," she says, "but that's the thing; There's a LOT of things in the water by the docks."

She gestures for them to follow her, and they all find themselves standing on the edge of the dock, staring out over the water.

"The water here is relatively clear, so you can see the bottom pretty easily." she explains, "I didn't have to search long to find an abnormality, but..."

She points to several odd shapes in the silt below, "It's kind of a mess down there."

Rain frowns, the groundskeeper is right, there's all kind of debris in the water by the docks, and none of it really looks like what they're searching for.

"You said the statue you were looking for was made of metal, so I thought I could just sink a magnet on a line and see what it stuck to, but, then again, there's so much garbage down there... and I think y'all said the blasted thing was made of bronze, yeah?" She asks, and the pair nods, "Yeah, see, you can't use a magnet to find bronze, because the shit's not magnetic, well, not unless it has nickel mixed in-"

Bea cuts her rambling short and shakes her head.

"Anyway, point is, short of diving in there and having a look around, I can't really go in there and shift things around much more. Taking a net to the lighter debris is one thing, but I can't be hauling up anything heavy and potentially waterlogged manually." she sighs, "Personally, I'd have the Creature From The Black Lagoon over there-" she gestures loosely at Rain, "-take a dive and see if anything fits the bill."

"We appreciate the help either way, Bea." Rain says, "Sorry to take up so much of your time."

Bea shrugs, "Ehn, it's whatever. Besides, if I had known earlier how messy this area was, I'd have probably come out here sooner and organized a group to help sort out all of this..."

She places her hands on her hips.

"I'm going to talk to Copia about getting some machinery in so we can remove some of the larger bits from the water, but it'll probably take a while for that to happen, so..."

Rain hums.

"We'll figure something out in the meantime, go have your fun with Mountain already." he does a light shooing motion, "Just shout if he actually tries to kill you."

"Aw, so kind of you to think I'd have the time to scream if he really wanted me dead." Bea places a hand on her chest, "But yeah, I better get going, or he'll be upset... I did promise I'd let him make dinner afterwards..."

As Bea leaves with a bit of a skip to her step, Dew can't help but turn to look at Rain and mouth a simple, "What the fuck?"

.

.

.

"So a plan B is in order." Rain announces after surfacing for the fifth time, "I've found two car fenders, a large rock that looks like a penis, but was definitely a rock, and, like, three shopping carts at this point."

Dew kicks his feet in the water, "We have to order a giant purple dildo and send it to Limbo via express shipping?"

Rain pulls himself up onto the dock, "We have to order a giant purple dildo and send it to Limbo via express shipping."

"Man..." Dew flops backwards, sighing, "I was kind of hoping we'd find the dick, I kind of wanted to see that ridiculous thing again..."

"I mean, yeah, it was pretty funny to look at." Rain agrees, laying down next to him, "...Dew?"

"Yeah, Rainy?"

"Why do you think that dick showed up here in the first place?" he asks, turning his head to face Dew, who is already looking at him when he glances over, "Like, the sudden rumors, it just appearing and disappearing and all of that... It just feels... odd, you know?"

"Mn." the other ghoul thinks for a moment, "Well, strange things happen here all the time, it's just the nature of things, I suppose... I don't want to dismiss it's... oddness, but, I guess I've bore witness to a lot of weird shit over the years so this didn't really register high on the list."

"But it is weird, right?" Rain wonders aloud, "Touching that statue, winding up in that other... dimension? World? Whatever that was... and then traveling to Limbo, getting out of there so easily because we could bargain with the Toll Man... Hell, even Bea being willing to help us search the lake... it all feels too convenient to be real."

Dew reaches over and trails his fingers down Rain's side making him twitch slightly before letting out a yelp as Dew pinches his sensitive skin.

"Ow! Hey-"

"Well, we can rule out the idea that this isn't real or a dream." he chirps innocently, "But I get what you mean. It's like someone is guiding us somehow, and I'm not entirely sure how to feel about that."

"Who do you think it is?" Rain asks, "Guiding us?"

"Honestly? It could be anyone." Dew says, sitting up again, "You said you heard the rumors about the dick from eavesdropping on the siblings, right?"

Rain nods.

"Well, the siblings all study the arcane arts, at least the ones living here in the abbey do. It wouldn't be hard for a couple of them to concoct some weird multi-dimensional, teleporting penis... no matter how fucking weird that sounds now that I'm saying it." he turns to look at the abbey in the distance, "Point is, whoever made it probably just wanted to test out the statue on some poor saps curious enough the try it out... Or ministry actually shelled out cash for a giant metal dick statue, but that doesn't feel like a Copia purchase to be honest."

"Definitely more of Terzo purchase," Rain chimes in, "or Ome-"

"Omega!" Dew gasps, "Why didn't I think to ask him before??"

"Huh?"

"Omega manages the arts department! It's... kind of a holdover position from when Terzo was still around and they'd do 'still life nights' that were just an excuse to fuck each other covered in paint, but he's basically in charge of deciding what pieces go on display and which ones get vetoed or shipped elsewhere for viewing." Dew explains, "He'd know if the dick is still in the collection if it's not in the lake!"

"...Can we go back to the having sex covered in paint part?"

"Rainy."

"What?" Rain pouts, "I'm a connoisseur of the arts myself... Also was that one of the instances where you and them..."

He brings two of his fingers together, then, after some thought, tries the same motion but with three instead.

"...I will admit that Terzo did occasionally school me on my... brushstrokes."

Rain whistles and Dew kicks him in the side lightly.

"C'mon, ya perv, let's go see Omega."

.

.

.

"...A giant metal dick?" Omega's mouth hangs open as he processes what Dew has said, "No... I don't think we have one of those. We do have a rather large, um, Georgia O'Keefe style statue that has a similar story to it, but it involved rubbing the clit and some people had a bit of a hard time finding the right spot to-Anyway. No, no large metal dicks."

"Aw, fiddlesticks." Dew snaps his fingers, "...Any idea where we can find the pussy statue by any chance?"

Omega eyes him wearily.

"No dice, huh?"

The older ghoul nods.

"Circling back," Omega says, waving his hand about dismissively, "you said you two held hands in front of this dick statue, rubbed it, wound up in another universe where you were married, then traveled through Limbo, came back here, had the groundskeeper -who is currently getting railed by Mountain, a detail I didn't need to know- search the lake and came up empty... which lead you to here, am I correct?"

Rain and Dew nod.

"Yeah, that's basically everything."

Omega leans back in his office chair, bringing his hands up in a prayerlike gesture.

"Boys, have you been eating out of Lucifer's cabbage patch...?"

"Lucifer's... Are you asking if we're high??" Dew balks, "Omega, it's a Monday! I'd at least wait until Tuesday-"

"Professionally, no..."

Rain clears his throat, "We're being serious, Omega. We experienced something really weird, and now we're kind of... It lead to some... emotions. So we just... we want to confirm that it, ya know, actually happened, and also we kind of sort of promised a ten foot tall demon in Limbo that we'd send him back something he could ride, and the giant metal dick that started all of this seemed like the obvious choice."

"Ten foot tall demon in Limbo..." Omega looks between Rain and Dew, "...Dewcifer Maurice Drop, if you're telling the truth, did you-"

"Fuck the Toll Man again? No, not this time."

Rain throws his hands in the air, "He knows about that, but you never told me-"

Omega holds up his hand, "As a medical professional and a man of science, I needed to know how-"

Dew slaps his hands down on the desk.

"He can shrink down!"

"OHHHH!"

As the sun finally begins to dip below the horizon, Dew, still reeling from their conversation with Omega, lets out a sigh as he and Rain fall onto the couch in the ghouls' common room.

"Well... we're back at square one." he says, letting his body sag into the cushions, "...Can you get me my laptop?"

"Gonna order the dildo for the Toll Man?" Rain asks, "You sure you don't want to wait and see if the metal dick doesn't show up somewhere?"

"Nah, let's just... We're the only people that seem to know that thing exists. I'm tired, and I have a giftcard that expires soon, so... Two birds, one stone. Laptop, please." he shrugs, "Oh, and my reading glasses!"

"Aye, aye, Captain." Rain salutes him and Dew rolls his eyes, smiling softly as the other walks away.

As soon as Rain returns, Dew opens up his laptop and clicks on a pinned link below his search bar.

"...You just have this site on quick access?" Rain's eyes grow wide as he takes in a barrage of colorful sex toys in some... unconventional shapes and sizes, "On your unlocked laptop no less?"

"If anyone opens my laptop without my permission and the worst they see is a bunch of penises than I think it's fine." Dew says, pushing up his reading glasses as he scrolls through their options, "This isn't even my main computer... Anyway, let me know if you see anything you want."

"...You're gonna buy me a dildo?"

"Or a vibe or one of those stroker things, whatever your perverted heart desires, I'm feeling strangely generous."

After a bit of searching, and spending way too long customizing not one, but two absurdly large sex toys, Dew carefully inputs the details on the gift card and confirms his purchases...

...Just in time for Swiss to walk in dragging a certain metal dick in what is effectively the ghouls' front door.

"You guys will NOT believe what I found-"

Rain and Dew exchanges looks.

"MOTHERFUCKER!"

[iguessthisisanewobsession]

It takes a mob part 3

Part one 

previously

“This place is a dump Bill.”

“Hey! Excuse me if I wasn’t expecting company!”

Bill grimaced as he pushed a couple takeout boxes of the kitchen island. Renting alone was difficult enough; maybe he hasn’t swept or scrubbed in a while. He’s been busy, sue him!

The kid didn’t seem to mind, he was too busy chewing on a rabbit ear to complain.

Ken grimaced as he bounced the squirt,

“Forget company Bill, you got an entire war in your kitchen.”

“It you’re going to complain so much about it then lend a hand?”

“Oh no man, you forget. I’m holding Danny, this is an important job! Can’t have him crawling around here and picking up diseases. This is much more important than being your busboy.”

Bill raised a brow, watching as Marv snuck up behind Ken and scooping up the kid with a chuckle.

“Oh yeah? Looks like you’ve been relieved. Hop to it bus boy.”

“Marv!!”

“Didn’t want Danny to pick up your garbage attitude.”

Bill held back a groan as the two dumbasses started a game of keep away with the boy.

He was tired. What was supposed to be a quick beer on a night off has turned into a four am game of house.

The chaos paused when a whimper broke into the air.

“Look what you did Marv!”

“Me!? Ken you didn’t have to-“

The kid was fully bawling his eyes out and the two jackasses where too wrapped in their pissing match to notice.

Grabbing the boy from the two of them, Bill leveled the with a glare as he gently bounced the kid on his hip.

“He ain’t a toy you bozos! Be glad you didn’t drop him and crack his head open!”

Not breaking his glare Bill made his way to his couch and lowered himself to the cousins with a weary sigh,

“I’m cashing in the IOU’s. You two idiots get to clean the apartment.”

Bill raised his unoccupied hand at Ken’s sputtering,

“I’m not fucking finished numb nuts. You two are goin’ to clean and think about what you did. The tyke is barely old enough to raise his head! I don’t care if he’s a meta or not. The only reason he’s here and not at the Wayne foundation is because it’s safer with us than in the goddam system! The second that changes I’m not afraid to pack him up and take him there myself. Am I clear?”

Ken let out an annoyed “yes sir.”

Marv for his part looked properly chastised.

“Alright, now get.”

Letting out another sigh, Bill turned his attention to Danny.

“Let it out kid, just let it out.”

With a little bounce Bill brought his feet up and tried to get himself comfortable leaning against the arm rest.

‘The kid has a set of healthy lungs at least...’

“I’m really sorry you got to deal with a couple lugs like us. If it makes you feel any better, Kenny’s 19 and Marv has only handled older youngin’s before. There’s a learning curve.”

Bringing the squirming tot to his chest Bill began to run his palm up and down his back, mildly marveling at how much he could cover in one small swipe.

“Truth is, I’m probably no better. At least those two have excuses. If I fuck up don’t hold back on old Billy alright? Lord knows I can get my head up my ass at times.”

Danny let out a little hiccup as his crying petered out. Glancing down, Bill switched to rubbing a small circle with his thumb as the baby’s eyes began to droop.

‘Huh.. I thought his eyes were blue?’

Bill gave a mental shrug. It probably had something to do with his meta-abilities. God forbid if he drew the line in the sand over an eye color change.

The kid was fighting to stay awake; it was kind of adorable watching him try to keep his eyes open.

That being said a sleeping baby was easier to deal with than awake one.

‘Ok, think Bill, think. What would old man do?’

Glancing around, he made a face.

‘They won’t hear me over their own swearing...’

Clearing his throat, Bill hummed as he tried to recall some old words.

“Go to sleep you littl’ baby.. Go to sleep you littl’ baby. Your mama’s gone away and your daddy’s goin’ to stay.. Didn’t leave nobody but the baby..”

Bill kept humming as he tried to recall the next verse.

He hadn’t heard the song since he was a tyke himself, sue him.

He could almost feel the moment when the little man lost the war with sleep.

“Honey on a rock and sugar don’t stop.. gotta bring a bottle to the baby..”

Bill was pretty sure he got that lyric wrong, what Danzo didn’t know couldn’t hurt him.

Bill kept humming as he listened to the sound of Gotham outside. The early bird would be just starting their commute by now.

Actually, why weren’t the numbskulls making any noise? If they think he was going to accept any half ass cleaning for two favors than they had quite a bitching to look forward to.

‘Not right now.’ Bill felt his humming slow down, ‘can’t risk waking the kid,’

He was aware he was joining Danny in Dreamland at this point; the fact of the matter is he been up for almost 24 hours and is supposed to go in tonight anyways.

He deserved some sleep after all this shit.

Gently laying his arm over Danny, he let his body relax as the first rays of dawn entered the apartment.

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