#but this time it worked out perfectly for the prompt

[fandomfucker]

Beach Trip-The Judgment Day X Black!Fem!Reader

Request/Prompt: The Judgment Day with their girl on a cute little beach trip

A/N: Linked a picture of the bathing suit I had in mind, just pretend it comes with a matching headpiece.

Word Count: 2,692

Reader's POV 

Time off with all four of my partners in the Judgment Day was not something that happened often.

Luckily, this week happened to be one where it was planned out that the five of us would be going down to the beach for vacation.

Before we could leave though, we all had some last-minute errands to run. Well, mainly me and Rhea.

Sitting in the passenger seat of Rhea's truck, I happily listened to the booming sounds of her metal music over the speakers as I scrolled through Pinterest.

"What kind of nails are you gonna get, babe?" I asked Rhea, looking over at her as she hummed in thought.

"I'm thinking, like, black scales with like, a purple shimmer," She answered, briefly looking at me before putting her hand on my thigh and stroking her thumb up and down as she drove.

"Ooh, that'll be cute," I replied as I went back to scrolling through Pinterest for my own new nail set. It was vacation, and we liked to look good on vacation. You look good, you feel good.

"Do you know what you're gonna do with your hair yet?" Rhea asked me. Normally, outside of work, I try to wear my natural hair as much as possible, which isn't always the easiest when it's being grabbed by my opponents to throw me around in a ring.

"I'm thinking I'll kinda match with Damian and get bohemian box braids. I think he's getting his done tomorrow, but then I can wear that cute headwrap that my bathing suit came with!" I excitedly explained. Her grip tightened on my thigh as a smile graced her features.

"That'll look so good, sweetness. I can't wait to see."

"Oh!" I exclaimed excitedly. "And then, I can get my nails to match and since I'll be wearing my bathing suit like all week, they'll match everything!" The girl math was mathing and everything was coming together perfectly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few days later, the five of us Judgment Day members all sat in Rhea's truck as we drove down to our beach house for the week. It was right on the beach which was going to be perfect.

Rhea sat in the driver's seat as not only was it her truck, but also because she would get us there faster than if anyone else was driving. Dominik sat in the passenger seat, giving Rhea directions in between picking the music for us to listen to. I liked to stare out the window while I listened to my music so I sat behind Dominik's chair, with Damian next to me and Finn on his other side.

Damian scrolled through his TikTok, occasionally showing one of us a video as his free hand rested on my thigh, while Finn read whatever book he was currently obsessed with. He read them so fast I never knew what he was reading at any given moment.

It was only about an hour-long drive so we were pulling up to the beach-house in no time. As soon as I stepped out of the car I noticed it was weirdly secluded. There weren't any other places directly around us and the tall landscape blocked any possible views. 

Damian stepped out behind me, making his way to the back of the truck, and popping open the covered bed to start grabbing suitcases.

He handed me my duffle bag as Finn and Dominik joined him in unloading the truck. "How about you girls go ahead and go inside and start getting set up, okay?"

"Okay!" I shouldered my duffel bag, grabbing Rhea's hand on my way over to the stairs that would lead us up to the front door. 

Once at the door, Rhea punched the code into the keypad lock, hearing a small click before she pushed the door open. Stepping inside into a tight hallway, there was a small kitchen to the right with another little hall to the left. Going into the hallway on my right there was a bedroom on the right with a queen bed, right in front was a bathroom, and next to it a washer and dryer. At the end of that hallway was another bedroom, with two separate twin-sized beds.

Going back down that side hallway to get to the main hallway that led past the kitchen, I walked into the living/dining room and called out for Rhea. "Hey, babe? Are we all gonna fit in here?"

I noticed another room off to the side and walked into it, finding another queen-sized bed with its own private bathroom. There was a sliding glass door leading to the balcony on the far wall, with a matching door in the living room.

Noticing that the door was open, I walked out onto the balcony and saw Rhea leaning over the railing as she stared out at the ocean, the small breeze blowing her bangs to the side.

"Rhea?" She turned at the sound of my voice, making me smile as I saw the relaxation already hitting her. "Are we all going to fit in here?" I repeated my question.

"Yeah, we should," She moved away from the railing and gripped my hips as we stood there. "I was thinking that we'd take the master, Dom and Damian take the other queen, and then Finn could take one of the twins. He's the only one other than us that would fit and I booked the condo, so if I want a girls-only room to cuddle you all week I'm gonna have that." She smiled at me, so proud of herself for thinking of this situation.

I threw my head back as I laughed. If she wanted to keep me all to herself all week during the night then I wasn't gonna fight her on it. "Do the boys know about this arrangement?"

She laughed again, giving me that shit-eating grin, "Not yet."

I giggled as I heard the boys walk in the front door with the luggage. "Y/N? Rhea? Where'd you guys go?" We heard Dominik shout out through the condo.

"Let's go," I whisper-giggled as I gripped Rhea's hands and tugged her back through the sliding door, the bedroom, and back into the living room where all three of our boys now stood, surrounded by luggage.

"Where should we put these?" Damian asked, gesturing around him. 

Rhea wrapped her arms around my shoulders from behind and hugged me tight to her chest. "You can put me and Y/N's stuff in there," she gestured with her head to the room behind us. "And your guys' stuff between the two rooms down the other hall." She smiled at them, albeit a bit passive-aggressively. 

"Wait, we're in different rooms?" Dominik asked us, his upset puppy-dog eyes appearing.

"Yep," Rhea popped the 'P', her accent unusually strong. 

"I want this one all to myself, "She squeezed me and kissed my cheek as my ears burned.

"Come on, seriously, Rhea?" Damian asked her, his voice seemingly deeper in his annoyance.

I could feel her nod my head against my ear.

Finn rolled his eyes, used to Rhea's antics at this point in the relationship. "Whatever, lads. We'll just have to have boys nights every night."

"Yeah!" Dominik agreed, sticking his tongue out at us mockingly before he grabbed his bag and walked back down the hallway to his room.

I played along with Rhea's wants and just shrugged at the two remaining boys who looked at us in disbelief. Damian scoffed before grabbing his bag and following suit, Finn right on his heels.

"They'll figure it out, right?" I asked Rhea, looking over my shoulder slightly at her.

"Yeah, probably."

"Good. Let's go down to the beach!" I excitedly told her, fully turning around to face her. 

She grinned at the prospect of me in a bathing suit, laid out in the sun, "Okay."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The boys, having heard we were going down to the beach, decided that while they were still upset, they weren't upset enough to not go down to the beach with us, and now stood sulking outside the bedroom door where I was finishing getting dressed, tying my matching skirt around my waist. 

It was a cute little orange two-piece I had found at a boutique near our house. The top was really just two little triangles of fabric to cover myself but it had come with a matching tied-up skirt and headwrap. And, it was covered in flowers which just made it that much cuter.

I fixed the headwrap, making sure all of my hair was covered without any weird-looking lumps sticking out, and then checked myself over once more in the mirror to make sure I had taken all the tags off and had the suit on correctly. 

Once I was satisfied with how I looked, I opened the door for a mock fashion show for my partners. 

Damian wolf-whistled at me as I did a small spin to show off the flowy skirt. Finn grabbed my hand and had me do another spin, lifting my hand over my head, to the enjoyment of my partners.

"You look so good, mami," Dom practically salivated as he stared at me with heart eyes. 

Rhea looked me up and down, her eyes briefly stopping on my nails before she got back up to my eyes. "You're right, sweetness. Your nails do match your bikini perfectly, good job picking out the color."

I beamed at the compliment and grabbed the edge of my skirt, lifting it slightly as I gave a small curtsey. "Why thank you, baby."

Damian came up to me, gripping my hips as he also checked me out, his eyes eventually landing on mine too, "Can I just say, with this beautiful complexion," he gently stroked his thumb down my cheek, "Orange is definitely your color." He kissed my forehead.

I blushed slightly as I smiled at him in silent thanks. "Okay, guys, let's go. I'm ready for some relaxation!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You know who I realized you look like?" Rhea asked me, completely out of the blue.

The two of us were laid out on the towels higher up on the beach while the boys threw each other around in the water, practically waterboarding each other while we watched.

I pulled my gaze from the book I was reading and turned to her, noticing her eyes were still closed underneath her sunglasses as she lay on her back, staring up at the sun. 

"Who?" I asked warily, not sure I would like the comparison.

"Orange Blossom," Rhea cackled.

I stared at her in confusion before it hit me. "From Strawberry Shortcake?!"

Rhea's laugh grew as I sat there in bewilderment before a laugh began to bubble up out of my chest. And then I was bent over laughing so hard I couldn't breathe.

Rhea herself had to sit up she was laughing so hard to keep herself from choking on her own spit.

The boys, having noticed our laughing fit when they looked up for their periodic check-up on us, began making their way up the beach to where we sat.

"What's so funny over here?" Finn asked us.

"She- she said- she said I-," I was laughing so hard I couldn't get a single sentence out. Rhea managed to sober up before I did and repeated what she had told me.

All three of them were sent into fits of laughter, after having to be shown who she was first.

"Don't get me wrong, you look amazing in orange. But, with the flowers I just couldn't not see it," Rhea cackled. 

I wiped away the tears of laughter that had formed in the corners of my eyes. "No, I totally get it. I don't know how I didn't see it before, oh my God."

"You know what? Just for that..." I trailed off and put my book to the side, hopping up and using all the strength in my body to pick Rhea up bridal style.

Her eyes widened as she startled but I had already fully picked her up and started running towards the water. 

"No, no, no, no, no! Y/N! Don't you dare!" She shrieked as we reached the water. I waded out to where the water reached the bottom of my thighs, about a foot below Rhea.

She wrapped her arms around my neck and clung onto me as she kicked her feet. "Oh, you want me to put you down?" I asked sweetly.

Rhea's eyes widened behind her sunglasses, "No-" She was interrupted as Damian came up behind the both of us and pushed up over, both of us toppling over into the water.

We both stood up spluttering as we watched him double over laughing at us, Dom and Finn on the cusp of the shore watching us.

Rhea and I shared a look before teaming up and each grabbing one of Damian's arms, dragging him further out into the water, him completely compliant as he laughed too hard to care what we were doing.

With unspoken communication, simultaneously, I jumped on Damian's back, sending him forward while Rhea yanked on his arms, further pulling him forward into the water.

Since we still weren't super far out into the water yet and I was on top of Damian, while I did hit the water, I luckily didn't go all the way under. Plus, Rhea caught me a little bit before I could.

Damian stood up from the water, the laughter now nowhere in sight as his annoyance was displayed clear as day on his face.

Small bursts of laughter exploded from me and Rhea as we tried to contain them, but the look on his face as water dripped down was too much. Any semblance of control went right out the window when Dom and Finn came up behind Damian and pushed him over into the water again.

Rhea and I clung onto each other for dear life as we laughed so hard we couldn't breathe, the boys keeping our laughter going by giving us a little show of performing wrestling moves on each other as they continued to fight and push each other into the water.

Eventually, this led to us playing chicken, another few feet or so deeper into the ocean. I was on Finn's shoulders with Dominik on Damians while Rhea played ref on the side.

"Go for his stomach, remember he's ticklish," Finn whispered up at me. 

"Got it," I responded, determined to win as I leaned down and we did our little handshake. 

Rhea looked at both groups. "Ready?" She asked Finn and me, to which we both nodded in response. She turned to Dom and Damian. "Ready?" They both nodded.

"On your mark, get set, go!" She shouted, waving her hand like a flag.

Finna and Damian began walking towards each other as Dominik and I both held out our hands for each other. As soon as he was within reach, I began tickling his ribs, watching as he began to squirm atop of Damian, who was struggling to hold him up as he moved. 

As a unit, Finn and I moved in for the kill. I pushed Dom backwards as Finn pushed Damian. They both fell back into the water with a large splash.

Dominik immediately came up out of the water shouting for Rhea, saying that we were cheating. I gave the three of them my most innocent look possible as Rhea looked over at us while we were accused of interference.

"Nothing there was against the rules, Dom Dom. Y/N and Finn won fair and square." She announced.

Dominik was clearly affronted as a look of hurt crossed his features. "Okay, fine." He threw his hands up in surrender. Then, in the blink of an eye, he grabbed Rhea's arm and dunked her into the water.

And let me tell you, Rhea was not happy when she came back up. The two of them got into a splashing match and continuously dragged each other under the water until Damian inevitably broke it up.

Finn bent down and helped me off of his shoulders, trying to not get my head any wetter than it already was, and the five of us walked back to shore together.

Apart from a day or two spent out shopping, the rest of the week was spent like this. Fighting each other in the water, sunbathing, Rhea and me cuddling long into the night while the boys grumbled and complained and cuddled each other in spite.

It was blissful, and the best week of my life. 

[trashytoastboi]

Hi Toast :) — Dialing 📞 ☎️ for Sugar Daddy Lucifer please <3 It can be either HCs or scenario! I’m totally okay with either and preferably with She/Her pronouns 🎀 I’ll be waiting if you choose to do this :3

Hi bean! Thank youuu- This was an amazing request to wake up to! I went for headcanons because I felt I could include a bit more of how I see Sugar Daddy Lucifer, also I wrote with female reader in mind but since no pronouns were mentioned it works for gender neutral as well.

3K Permanent Event! Dial A...

Sugar Daddy! Lucifer x Reader

🎶 You had doubts the first time you decided to use this mystery service. An ad popped up for it while you were scrolling through Devilgram. You saw their list of services and some even sounded intriguing. You genuinely didn’t expect someone to answer. There on the other end; was the operator who easily led you through the prompts, and even the listings of people they had. You ended up choosing Lucifer. Honestly you went into this thinking it was going to be a joke, so when he showed up for your date you were surprised. 

🎶 Lucifer’s first impression was a great one. He is courteous, gentlemanly, polite, charming and easily carried the conversation when you stuttered from being overly shy during your first meeting. He waited until you got a little more comfortable before discussing things like your allowance that he’d be giving you. You honestly thought the sugar daddy thing was a joke- it was not. When Lucifer told you the amount he’d be giving you every week you genuinely had to ask if he made a mistake in adding an extra 0 at the end.  

🎶 As if the weekly allowance wasn’t enough he often surprised you with gifts, ranging from expensive things, to paying for your meals or sweet treats whenever you had a craving and telling you to spoil yourself- at his expense and he felt a surge of pride whenever you did. Lucifer often told you he has so much money that he doubts he could spend it all and so even if you wanted expensive things, it barely put a dent in his finances. 

🎶 You’d see him quite often, one thing you could call a condition, which wasn’t at all bad. Lucifer wanted you to go on a date with him, once a week and more if both your schedules would allow. He’d like to take you out to whatever restaurant you wanted to try, sometimes he’d be in the mood to go watch an opera if there was one performing at the theater. Sometimes he’d invite you for something quieter, just the two of you and he’d be the one to make dinner and say it’s to spoil you (He’s very much a softie for his sugar baby and wants to provide in any and every way.) 

🎶 Without fail every time you saw Lucifer he had a new gift for you. He knew your tastes perfectly, sometimes he’d buy you something that he felt you’d look absolutely gorgeous in, other times it was something that you’d been looking at. He truly pays attention to everything you like and encourages you to talk about yourself more. He loves seeing how you light up when talking about the things you like. 

🎶 Lucifer is the avatar of pride, and he takes pride in being able to give you everything beyond your wildest dreams. He wants you to always feel and look your best. Hell, half the time it’s something silly and you’d tell him that you don’t need it but he’d always follow up with the question “Do you want it?” It started with an allowance then evolved into Lucifer telling you he’d handle all your living expenses, after all the money he gives you as an allowance should be for you and the things you want. 

🎶 One thing you came to learn later on in the relationship is that Lucifer is a very affectionate and sensual man (demon). He enjoys your affection, he doesn’t outright ask for it and more hints towards wanting you to initiate it. If you’re the one who holds his hand first or kisses him first, he can feel himself falling deeper and deeper for you. It’s interesting he didn’t realize how lovely you’d be and thought it would be a casual relationship not knowing that the longer he knew you, the more in love he fell. 

🎶 He intentionally made more time for you, working a little harder to clear up time so he could have two dates with you a week instead of one. If he really wasn’t able to get away he’d enjoy just hearing your voice, sometimes when he’s working he’d call you just to hear your voice. Lucifer loves being able to hear you talk about your day, something you did or saw today. It makes him happy. 

🎶 He raised a problem. An issue you’d never think you’d hear someone bring up as an issue but here you are. With Lucifer, who sincerely hopes and pleads that you’d spend more of his money. You’re smart and you don’t squander it, he can appreciate that but he’s asking you to just buy whatever you want without considering the price tag. There’s been too many incidents when he takes you shopping and you shy away from something after seeing the price. (He buys it for you anyway) 

🎶 Out of all your previous partners, Lucifer is the most confident and self assured. Lucifer also taught you that someone can genuinely be confident without being conceited or arrogant. He knows what he wants and it’s attractive to you who really has never seen those qualities in the people you’d previously dated. Maybe that was the appeal of an older man after all.

[mister-eames]

Borrowing the word generator fic prompt challenge from my friend @roosterbox!

Todays word: sausage

----

"Well, look who it is," is what Ariadne begins with when Eames arrives at the office that morning. She turns her head to exhale a plume of cigarette smoke downwind. "Trouble in paradise, I take it?"

Eames pauses at the door, loosely grasping the handle.

"Pardon?"

She points her thumb somewhere over her left shoulder. "You know, with the whole ---" she balls her hands into fists and mimics a series of tiny explosions, "---thing."

He casts a wary look at the door, suddenly unsure of the contents within, then back at Ariadne, perplexed.

"Maybe give him a wide berth," she suggests.

He's far too hungover for this.

"I'm... not following," he blinks. "Give who a wide berth?"

The tiny woman makes a circle out of her pointer finger and thumb and winks exaggeratedly at him. "O-kay. That's how we're playing it then."

Righteo.

With a yank to the metal door Eames enters, shaking off the weird interaction, leaving Ariadne outside in the fierce, chilly Berlin winds. The youth these days, honestly.

"Hallo," Eames loudly greets his colleagues, unwinding his scarf from his neck as the sauna-level heating immediately hits him. "Guten morgen!"

"Eames! Hello," their chemist greets, appearing out of nowhere.

Sandeep is nervous young man on the best of days, looking particularly rattled on this perfectly ordinary one. He wrings his hands together as Eames makes a beeline for his desk, eyes darting about.

"Sandeep," he nods, then again, over to the desk furthest from the entrance. "Arthur."

"Yes, hello," Sandeep says again, trading increasingly worried looks between Eames and Arthur. There is sweat on his upper lip.

It sure is hot in here. Eames removes his coat too, hanging it on the back of his chair.

It takes several minutes for Eames to extract all of the field data he'd managed to retrieve the day prior from his bag. Receipts, pin locations, recorded messages, even discarded newspapers; all minutiae, and all utterly vital in composing the pigment that paints the broad strokes in forgery, as it were. He's shadowed the marks twin for all of five hours and knows his lunch order, his favourite cafe, political leanings, preferred brand of cigarettes, and the exact, saliva-soaked, smacking noise he makes when he chews his peppermint gum, open-mouthed, which he did all damn day.

A quirk Eames is going to have to momentarily adopt. Ugh.

Nothing to be done for it, he supposes, even if he is already cringing so hard he's developed a minor tic. He slides his glasses on and starts to make sense of his notes.

It takes him a solid hour to realise Arthur hasn't acknowledged him. Not even once.

---

Ariadne keeps shooting him worried glances. Sandeep has dropped three beakers and left the office an hour ago after a... verbal incident... and hasn't yet come back.

And Arthur -- well.

He seems very, very preoccupied in sharpening the same three 2B pencils, is the thing. Not that Eames is one to judge. Especially not after the time he saw Arthur utilise a sharp pencil as a weapon in a dream one time. Very resourceful, that man. Utilitarian.

Lovely.

Arthur slaps down one of his newly sharpened pencils on his desk with a frightening amount of force and an equally frightening grimace on his face.

Ariadne looks at Eames again. Perhaps because Arthur does not seem to be doing any actual work.

Well, Eames can help him with that. Collecting his notes, Eames rises and ambles over to Arthur's desk, stopping short as he takes in the peculiar state of it. Paperclips, bent out of shape to the point of irrevocable deformity, litter the surface, alongside several scrunched up balls of paper.

The aforementioned pencils sit primly in the centre amidst the chaos.

"Can I help you?" Arthur demands, wielding one.

"Notes," Eames tentatively holds his folder out, somewhat taken aback by his tone and the force in which Arthur snatches it from his hands. "On the forge."

Eames catches Ariadnes eye, finally. She mimics another explosion.

"Err...alright, Arthur?"

With a wave of his free hand, Arthur dismisses Eames in lieu of an actual response, flicking through Eames' paperwork with jerky, agitated motions.

"Right," he says, Arthur's silence becoming increasingly uncomfortable. "...Good. Is there anything else you --"

The pencil in Arthur's grip snaps clean in half.

"Never mind," Eames, alarmed, gestures to his desk, inching away. "I've got to...."

He retreats.

---

Arthur, exuding a downright hostile, malefic aura, ignores both Eames and Ariadne for the most part; except to snap at them like an agitated crocodile whenever one ventures too close to his desk or 'talks too loud' or 'breathes like a congested bovine', which is a shame, because the kitchenette is right behind Arthur's set up and Eames loves a good tea-break chat.

Speaking of. Eames isn't sure what crawled up Arthur's rectum and perished, but it is now mid-morning and Tetley's waits for no man.

"Can I get you a cuppa?" Eames offers, magnanimously.

Directing a glare at Eames that could wither a sequoia, Arthur slides on a pair of midnight black headphones.

"Err..."

It's as clear a statement as any. The death metal he plays is so loud that Eames can hear it through the headphones and over the screech of the boiling kettle.

"I'll have a coffee," Ariadne yells to be heard over the din. "White, two sugars, please!"

---

After some internal deliberation, something clearly seems to be the matter.

---

Once, in their early days of working together, back when Eames was young and impulsive and quick to take things to heart, Arthur's professional ire rubbed him the wrong way at the wrong time. Took his poor mood personally. A blow to his ego.

So, Eames did whatever any young lad who had never held a real job would do - he nicked a tampon out of their extractors bag and presented it to Arthur. Eames had told him, "here, you're clearly on the rag," thinking himself so damn clever, puffed up with his own satisfaction and the sound of his team-mates laughter.

Sure, it led to a barny of almighty proportions that led to Arthur freezing him out for a year, but they were young and dumb then.

Eames would like to think they've grown since.

With that in mind, after an entire morning of weathering Arthur's potent animosity, Eames thinks he's finally narrowed down the problem.

The audible stomach gurgling is what tips him off.

Perhaps Ariadnes' never seen this side of Arthur before, but Eames has, enough to put two and two together. The snark, the twitchiness, the bitchiness; this is Arthur at hangriest. A situation easily remedied.

Ariadne would know, if she knew Arthur like Eames did. Perhaps placated him with a danish or a bagel. A succulent hot chocolate, maybe, like that one time, in Ohio, where Arthur got whipped cream on the corner of his lips, licking them over and over, his countenance softening in a haze of glucose and a chocolate-y scent had permeated the office. He'd smiled at Eames, then. There had been dimples.

"I'm getting lunch," Eames announces suddenly, standing.

He knows just the place.

---

The only thing that fills the office now upon Eames' return is the sound of Arthur's plastic knife scraping against the polystyrene tray as he cuts, no, hacks into the potatoes and variety of wurst that Eames brought back for him.

It's worse than the pencil-sharpening.

Even Ariadne winces as Arthur forcefully stabs a sawed-off portion of sausage and eats it.

Eames watches, transfixed, mouth dry, as Arthur seems to take great satisfaction in mutilating the food in a manner that can only be described as savage.

"Alright, Arthur?" he dares to ask again.

Instead of answering, Arthur locks eyes with him and, very slowly, chews a chunk of wurst.

---

At four-o'clock on-the-dot Ariadne packs up her bag and departs without so much as a goodbye, discomfort writ visibly all over her face.

Eames can commiserate. He too has seen the shredded remains of Arthur's lunch in the kitchenette bin.

"Penis jokes," Arthur says as soon as Ariadne's out, voice as hard as his steel-eyed glare. "Nice one, Eames. How old are you?"

Eames pauses.

"What?" he asks dumbly.

"The lunch," Arthur gestures. "Really? I thought we'd moved past that."

"I'm not... following."

"The sausage."

"The wurst?"

"The sausage. You really are an asshole."

"Because of... lunch...?"

Arthur tuts darkly, standing too, placing his laptop and papers into his messenger bag with gentleness despite the rigid line of his spine and shoulders.

"Because I'm sick and tired of your stupid jokes, alright?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"The--the lunch," Arthur repeats, voice rising with fervour as he secures his bag across his torso, "the text last night!"

"Are you fucking on something?"

"Are you? You sent me a photo of your dick!"

Affronted, Eames says, "I did not."

"You did so." Arthur affects a poor imitation of his accent, "Come over, Arthur. I need your help, if you catch my drift. Wink-ey face." Arthur shakes his head. "Fucking worst pick-up line ever."

"I swear to you, I didn't send you a --" he fishes his phone out of his pocket, thumbing through his recent texts for evidence, opening up his log with Arthur, "-- look, hang on a tick..." where is the damn---

---oh.

There it is. Erect and proud like a flag pole.

Hazy memories of getting drunk in his hotel room come swimming back to the fore. He'd gotten back to his hotel room tired, cranky, aching to loosen up. So he took a shot of vodka every time he remembered the sound of his marks disgusting chewing. At some point he blacked out, but he does recall thinking it was a good idea to send something flirty and subtle to Arthur. But he always thinks that.

Although, to be fair, he did think it was rather odd that he woke up in the bathtub with his pants around his ankles this morning.

"Looks like I did."

Arthur huffs. "That's what I just said..."

Eames stops listening as a rare feeling of shame washes over him. His stomach turns. Jesus Christ, good one Eames, now you've gone and done it. Of course Arthur would be livid over such a thing. Eames can hardly blame him.

Of course Arthur would raise hell at the very thought of such a lewd come-on, especially from Eames of all people. Of course he'd be repulsed; it's Eames after all and Arthur has never seen him that way. Arthur has never -- Arthur would never want that with --

"...and then I went to your hotel room and you didn't even answer the door! What the fuck, Eames?"

Eames stills.

"Back up. You did what?"

Drumming his fingers on the bag-strap, Arthur averts his eyes somewhere just past Eames, mouth twisting to the side. The stern lines of Arthur's body sag with heaviness.

"Just another joke at my expense, right?"

Eames feet are set on a path towards Arthur before he can command them otherwise. "It wasn't a joke. I must have fallen asleep."

"Great," Arthur rolls his eyes, still refusing to meet Eames eyes. "Passing out before the punchline. Excellent."

"So...you came to the hotel room?"

"Yes."

He steps closer again, ducking his head to catch Arthur's gaze. "You wanted to... 'help' me."

"And now I want to shoot you."

"Arthur, I've been trying to be very subtle," Eames says softly, trying to not get his hopes up, feeling as if his heart, beating with the bass of a djembe, is teetering on a tightrope, on the verge of flight or failure. "About my feelings."

Arthur's mouth twists even more, pursing unpleasantly. "Yeah. I got the message loud and clear."

"I'm not sure you do." Tentatively, Eames places his hand on Arthurs upper arms, grateful when Arthur doesn't immediately punch him in the face. "I bought you lunch because you were hungry."

"And?"

"And I took a job in Germany in the middle of winter."

"You wanted a job."

"Yes; with you."

"...Oh."

"Yeah."

"You..."

"I don't need the money. And let's face it; this is the worst job. Possibly ever."

"You do hate the winter," Arthur says, voice small.

Eames nods. "And Germany."

"That's why it's so hot in here," Arthur says, gesturing to the wider office. "The heater. I know you hate the cold."

Eames has been sweating in here for two weeks.

But there isn't anywhere else I'd rather be.

He admits, helpless, "I would never leave you locked out on purpose. I've wished to woo you properly."

"Oh," Arthur blinks, a sudden smile unwinding his lips. He steps forward and looks Eames right in the eye with none of the flint from before, but all of the fire. "I mean, I appreciate it, but..."

Arthur forcefully tugs him in and kisses him.

[mantou-rin]

Under the Night Sky

Prompt: Dancing under the stars

Characters: Sugawara Koushi, Reader

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 596

A/N: Not really proofread I'm sorry, but Suga was my first anime love so I had to write something for him

You and Suga opted to walk back to your shared apartment from the train station today instead of taking the bus. The weather was nice and you decided that it was a good way to digest the food you had for dinner just now. You also liked that it gave the both of you time to just be in each other’s presence. 

It was rather quiet, with the occasional sound of the two of you talking to each other, mainly discussing what to have for dinner tomorrow after work. 

The both of you were recharging your very dead social battery after a long day of work. You were glad that you were able to enjoy a moment of silence with Suga by your side, and likewise, Suga was glad that he could do the same without you feeling like the silence was uncomfortable. 

You and Suga only started dating after a very long two years of showing very obvious signs that the both of you liked each other, but with the fear of sabotaging your friendship, the both of you took a long time (and lot of convincing from your friends) before deciding to finally get together as a couple. 

It was like the both of you were soulmates though. Both of your energy matched the other perfectly, and you two filled in the missing gaps the other might have had. 

Your momentary silence was interrupted by the sound of someone playing a violin in the distance, which you concluded as the sound of someone busking. The melody was slow, enticing and romantic, and you had to fight to control the urge to sway to the music. 

Or did you? 

Suga suddenly let go of your hand and hurried in front of you, his body turning to face you. He had his hand over his chest, bending slightly forward as he bowed slightly. As his head raised to lock eyes with you, he asked,

“May I have this dance?”

Immediately you broke out into the widest grin and a blush formed at your cheeks. In that moment he was your prince, and you felt like his princess. 

You put your hand in his and let him lead, just like how it was back then when the both of you danced during prom. 

The street was empty with the exception of the two of you just basking in the presence of each other. Right now the both of you were the protagonists, with nothing else bothering you as you savoured every moment. In Suga's eyes there was only you and your beautiful smile, and in yours it was only Suga and his firm but also comforting gaze. 

You weren't sure how long more the both of you danced for, but eventually when the music came to a stop so did the two of you. Suga took your hand and planted a kiss, but it seemed that he decided that that gesture wasn't enough to express the immense love he had for you. Quickly yet gently he cupped your face in both of your hands before leaning down to capture your lips in his. 

Under the night sky filled with stars, you finally let your tears flow as you realised how loved you were by your boyfriend. You were lucky, so incredibly lucky to have Suga. The way he cherished you, the way he protected you, the way he simply loved you, was more than whatever you could have asked for. 

The star-filled night sky was indeed beautiful, but Suga made you feel even more beautiful that night. 

[aesadraws]

Cyberpunk-tober // Day 7: Relic

[fingertipsmp3]

Someone on a NaNoWriMo prep thread: if you’re trying to win NaNo for the first time my advice is to pick the simplest idea

Me: yep, that seems smart. I’ll do that

Also me: *walks away from my first brainstorming session needing to research the golden age of piracy, the composition of the UK in the mid 17th century, the British navy in the mid 17th century, and the overall concept of a time loop*

[pangzi]

I’ve been thinking so much about Pangzi and Xiao Hua actually becoming a Thing™ during shahai... they start off as just friends, comforting each other as they worry about and miss their partners, becoming slightly more than friends as they find comfort in each other’s touch and presence and from there on it grows into something more until they cannot deny this isn’t just comfort sex anymore. thinking about the fallout when after they deal with the Wangs they have to tell their partners...

[silhouettecrow]

365 Days of Writing Prompts: Day 342

Adjective: Nostalgic

Noun: Face

Definitions for those who need/want them:

Nostalgic: characterized by or exhibiting feelings of nostalgia (a sentimental longing or wistful affection for the past, typically for a period or place with happy personal associations; something done or presented in order to evoke feelings of nostalgia)

Face: the front part of a person's head from the forehead to the chin, or the corresponding part in an animal; the face as expressing emotion, or an expression shown on the face; a manifestation of outward aspect of something; a person of a particular type; the surface of a thing, especially one that is presented to the view or has a particular function; (geometry) each of the surfaces of a solid; a vertical or sloping side of a mountain or cliff; the side of a planet or moon facing the observer; the front of a building; the plate of a clock or watch bearing the digits or hands; the distinctive side of a playing card; short for typeface; the side of a coin showing the head or principal design

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

WRITING PROMPTS REGARDING ABORTION AND MISCARRIAGE 

trigger warnings for graphic description of the above topics, human trafficking, cannibalism, violence against pregnant women.

everything about this is entirely fictional, meant for writers. since I understand there aren’t many whump blogs that feel comfortable writing prompts about the subject (very understandable), I figured I could offer writers out there some prompts about this, in case they were looking for ideas for their works.

that being said, while the prompts are not real, the subject is very much real and can be triggering, so if it’s not something you’re comfortable with, don’t read below the line.

__________________୨ ୧ __________________

*feel free to change/adjust the pronouns however you want

a pregnant whumpee got kicked in the stomach by whumper, which led to miscarriage.

a pregnant whumpee, who was a housewife, fell down the stairs at her house when her partner was away for work. she didn’t tell her partner about the incident either because she was afraid he was going to get mad at her or because she thought it was fine and didn’t want to worry him. until she suffered severe bleeding that turned the mattress red at night.

whumpee who went through miscarriage kept hallucinating a life where her child was alive and she got to raise them. caretaker tried to help her, and even though her condition only seemed to get worse, they refused to send her to an asylum. 

whumpee who lost her child during childbirth refused to surrender her child’s corpse. It was understandable at first, until the child started to decompose and rot in her arms and she, with a knife in her hand, would attack anyone who tried to take her baby away from her.

whumpee was a sex slave who got pregnant, the thing was that it was a mistake. so in order for her to be able to continue doing ‘her job’, whumper made her undergo unsafe abortion by having a straightened-out wire with sharp edge (from a coat hanger) inserted into her vagina and into her uterus. they got the fetus out, but whumpee later got a nasty infection that resulted in her suffering from hallucinations, and her not being able to stand or stop her pale, naked body from shivering. whether or not she was rescued in time is up to you, the writer. 

whumper is an OB doctor who often lied to the patients that they miscarried their perfectly healthy stillborns and that the babies needed to be surgically removed in order to save the moms’ lives. this made it very easy for the doc to get away with eating fetuses, since the moms would rather not keep the corpses of their stillborns anyway, and police were never involved. (I mean who would question a licensed physician?!)

[deadghosy]

THANKS TO @lazyemmy FOR THIS LOVELY IDEA OF THE PENGUIN! READER💗🦆

HAZBIN HOTEL X PENGUIN! READER

prompt: during one extermination an angel had kidnapped you and took you to heaven based off a common mistake

“Quack?” You were literally trying to water the hotel’s flowers when you forgot about extermination….the leader of the exterminators had grabbed you by your sailor outfit Velvette made you.

“Shut your mouth short stuff.” You heard a man’s voice to see a person wearing a horned mask and a golden robe. You panicked as Charlie had told you about a man like this as Adam scoffs seeing your panicked state.

“JEEZ CHILL OUT YOU FUCKIN' BIRD BRAIN!” Adam yells as he enters in the portal of heaven with the exterminators behind him. He plops you down on the clouded floors to see the heavenly gates Charlie tells you in stories

As you waddled you seen a male who seemed to be waiting for you. “Ah! Reader..so glad to have you. It seems as if heaven had made a mistake and sent you to hell.” St. Peter said as he picks you up having the gates open. Your eyes widen at the bright light of heaven as angels walk and smile. “Welcome to your true home [reader]”

The air smelt so clean and not bloody as it seemed so peaceful and holy. After St. Peter getting your room and home ready to stay in heaven. You start to feel a little “home” sick as you hope the hotel crew was doing well and aren’t going crazy.

Which they totally are as Charlie is panicking calling her father.

After a few days , Adam will visit you a lot saying how he got forced to look after you…(he wasn’t forced he just liked how cute and pure you are but he’ll never admit it) Adam makes dumb ass jokes about how all those sinners down there should die and perish as he pats you on your little head. You quacked trying to show some worry for your friends down there.

“Oh them? Hah! They’re probably running like headless chickens looking for your ass.” Adam says with his usual grin as he pops some popcorn in his mouth. “Want some?” He says as he waves a piece of popcorn in your face. you sniffed it and ate it from his hand as adam's eyes widen at your cuteness…

you're like a little baby..💗😭😭😭

Adam grabs your chubby cold cheeks as he faces you towards him. “Never leave here. Okay?” He says seriously low with a protective tone as you quack nodding nervously at how quick this dude got attached to you.

Adam pushes your face away from him smirking. “Good now let’s watch this video I saw off of this human app called ‘TikTok’”

Lute didn’t know how to approach you, but she sends you small gifts that reminds her of you as you just open them like “quack?” And a head tilt confused but take it in anyways.

I imagine lute literally being your bodyguard when you don’t have any work to do as she just pushes anyone who gets to close to you away. LIKE IT COULD BE AN OLD LADY AND SHE WOULD BE LIKE “BITCH MOVE!”😭

After the 3rd day of the 1 week of being in heaven, lute definitely got overprotective of you. Always keeping tabs on where you go and which house you deliver mail to. I mean who knows what would happen to a cute soul like you? (A/n: Omg this sounds like a yandere…)

The angels love how adorable you are as they pet you. Immediately you are popular just like how you are popular in hell. Sera has given you a job as a mail boy again as you smile.

I can see St.Peter visit you when he isn’t on duty or just when someone takes his spot so he can say hi and hang out with you.

You wear a cute little yellow and white mail delivery fit thanks to sera who got a designer to get you to fit it perfectly.

You love how you still got your delivery job as you leave a cookie on the front porches of the angels. It’s like your significant signature to others to have a good day.

Adam and lute were arguing one time in front of you and you sniffled not liking the loud noises and immediately, and surprisingly. Adam and Lute pretended everything was okay to make you happy as Adam picked you up and took you away to get your favorite snack for you.

Sera checks on you as well with Emily by her side as Emily just finds you so cute and is excited to get to hang out with you more.

Emily immediately hugs and kisses your head amused by your small and kind soul she sees in you.

Sera would like to take you on stroll on week 2. She’d like to show you around heaven with Emily as she hold you in her arms gushing chow cute you are.

NOW I CAN IMAGINE YOU AND EMILY GOING ON A SHOPPING SPREE TO EXPLORE NEW CLOTHING AESTHETIC ✨💗

You showed yourself to be an angel by spirit as you helped a kid get a new lollipop, which makes sera smile at you being helpful as he is glad to hav with here in heaven and not they “ratchet” place.

You do miss hell as it had your friends who you got use to….you hoped they were still doing okay down there.

MEANWHILE IN HELL: “OMG OMG I CANT BELIEVE THEY GOT KIDNAPPED…IM A BAD FRIENDDD” “HON DONT WORRY, YOUR DAD CAN FIND A WAY TO GET THEM..” “it’s okay fat nuggets, they’ll come back…” *sad oink* and everyone else is having their own panic moment in their own way.

MEANWHILE BACK IN HEAVEN: “quack.” You said looking up at adam who holds your hand. “Huh? Jeeezzz bird brain..stop worrying about those loser down there…they’re fine without you.” Adam says smirking knowing damn well they aren’t .

Emily holds your hand as you waddle quacking at the ice creams around here. They taste so much better as your eyes sparkle at this sweet flavored treat. Emily squeals as her eyes got big and took a pic of your happy face. Sera most definitely got the picture on her heaven phone as her face soften seeing the new angel in heaven enjoying their self.

I imagine Adam is the one to be the one who claims to be the closest to you. But really he just brags about himself to you about how much sinners he kills.

I headcannon for your wings to be little cute fairy looking wings or pure white ones as you just fly.

You definitely have cherubim in heaven which makes the angels find you more adorable as the delivery boy.

You had made an account literally one day, and instantly you got 2 million followers which made you shock as Adam just munches on snacks while you quack panicked at how quick you became famous here.

I headcannon St. Peter to send you cookies with those cute little penguin designs on it. It looks like Christmas cookies but they are so cute and tasty

Say for example you fell and you couldn’t get up as you’re so rounded 😭 LITERALLY ALL YOU CAN DO IS ROLL AND SQEUAK AND QUACK💗 Adam is laughing as he takes a picture and video for himself before helping you up.

I can imagine Adam and Sera having a schedule out to plan who gets it hang out with you on weeks and days 😭

You liked the herbal tea they had as you waddle around with Adam having a kid leash on you as he just looked bored.

At the end of the week, you were sleeping wearing a whole ass cute gown Adam bought you as he literally dropped it on you with a flustered face seeing your cute smile.

As you slept…Lucifer snuck into heaven and snatched you up leaving a “fuck you” letter to Adam. Don’t even question how he got into heaven. Just be glad he took you.

[novelbear]

cute (and clumsy) cooking prompts 🥣🍪

a prompt list by @novelbear ᵔᴥᵔ

"come make tanghulu with me!" "no. we burnt all the sugar last time. you remember? we managed to burn. sugar."

accidentally using sugar instead of salt (or vice versa) and trying to quickly think of a way to cover it up before the other finds out

teaching the other how to use a certain tool (can opener, potato peeler, etc.) since they're somehow doing it so terribly, dangerously wrong.

bickering over whether or not they should follow the recipe word for word

"cheese? i thought you said peas. i bought peas." "...eh, i guess that's fine too. put them in."

setting like three separate timers for different things and then forgetting which timer went to what.

one lying about knowing how to cook and promising to walk the other through a recipe for a date idea (then having to spend all day trying to perfect the recipe themselves)

^ or they can just wing it and chaos ensues naturally

finding out the oven is broken after already prepping everything together

"god, could you stir any slower?" "you try this then!"

^ *proceeds to stir perfectly fine whilst the other glares in annoyance*

having to pause and tend to the other because they burnt a singular finger

"did you wash those?" [very obviously lying] "....of course."

sweetly lifting a spoon to their mouth to taste a little of the food

^ this immediately backfiring because the food was still too hot.

[after the meal is successfully cooked] "so we agree we're not attempting this again, right? "not for a long while."

one ordering delivery halfway through and the other just stares in disbelief

^ "you're serious? we're working our asses off here and you ordered chicken." "we had a rough start, okay? i thought we would have given up by now."

dancing and making fun out of having to clean up the mess in the kitchen

spending the next day in bed together as they had somehow given themselves food poisoning.

[reiderwriter]

🔫 Oh, Captain, My Captain 🔫

Pairing: Unit Chief!Spencer Reid x Fem BAU!Reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge 2024

Requested: Unit Cheif!Spencer who uses gun training as an excuse to rub up on the new member🤭

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI Gun kink, dubcon, dry humping, pictures/photos, age gap, Pervert! Spencer, unprotected sex, implied cream pie, semi-public sex, boss x employee dynamic, spanking, masturbation, slight cum play, degradation (slut, whore etc), praise kink if you squint (good girl).

A/N: This is my first entry for the CM Kink Bingo challenge 2024~! I chose a lot of the prompts based on some of the smut requests in my inbox and let my TELL you I was SO EXCITED to write Unit Chief + gun kink!!! I'm so excited for this entire challenge tbh, it reminds me of the good old days on past years' Kinktober 😂🥰

Masterlist || Bingo Board

When Spencer Reid was made the interim Unit Chief for the BAU, he agreed with the reasoning. At the time, he really couldn't argue that he was aptly experienced, responsible enough to make big decisions, and reliable. And whilst he had been through a lot in the last two decades with the FBI, he still did value his own sense of morality. 

He accepted the job and then was assigned you as an intern, and suddenly, he didn't agree with any previous assessment of him. 

Experienced, yes, but he was still stammering and rambling when discussing simple things like the weather. He certainly wasn't responsible enough to keep his eyes off you, and he probably couldn't be relied on in the field to focus instead of thinking about your pretty, plump lips and how they would feel wrapped around his cock. 

All morality had gone out of the window after a week of working with you when he closed his office blinds, popped his pants open and took his cock in hand, relieving himself while staring at your newly printed ID card. 

He had a lot of power, during the few months Emily was away, and he was trying desperately not to use it. 

Unfortunately, with great power comes a great amount of orders to give, and since you reported directly to Unit Chief Reid, you'd become his de facto shadow for the first few weeks. You bought him coffees when you got your own, asked him for quick run downs of past cases so you could take notes and remember relevant details for later, asked him for help writing reports. 

Which caused the blinds to be drawn at least once a day as he desperately tried to keep his hands off you. 

Emily had joked when leaving him behind that she'd usually give the new boss the “don't shit where you eat” speech, especially with people in your chain of command, but it really wasn't necessary with him. Of all people. 

It didn't help that you were so damn clumsy in the office. You were usually pretty calm and collected, but since starting at the BAU, the pressure was getting to you a bit. 

You made small mistakes, you double, and triple checked your work, and you were constantly in Spencer's office asking him for opinions on topics, for background information, and for, well, reassurance. 

And you dropped stuff. A lot of stuff. 

Your analytical Monday have been perfectly suited to the BAU, but somewhere between your head and your hands, all your body parts refused to function adeptly. You'd dropped things constantly, tripped on your own feet, and constantly bumped into people even while they stood still. 

Not to mention the time your dropped your (thankfully, iced) coffee all over Spencer's lap when you'd brought him his own. 

“Oh my- Oh my god, Doctor Reid, I am so so sorry,” you scrambled, immediately grabbing tissues as he jumped up from the desk. 

“Please let me help you, god, I'm so stupid, I'm so sorry-” you said, patting away as his lap as he stood frozen in front of you. You dropped to your knees to mop up the traces of coffee still running down his thighs, as he stammered. 

“Y/N, please, you don't need to, I have a spare pair I can-” 

“I'll have them dry cleaned, I promise,” you begged, just as a knock sounded and the door to his office swung back open for JJ to enter through. 

“Spencer, the files for the- woah! Okay, I'm not jumping to conclusions, but I'm still backing out of this room right now.” 

She laughed her way out of the room, which was when your brain finally caught up to your hands and realized the stupid position you'd put yourself in. 

You'd practically pushed your boss up against the wall, kneeled before him, and begged to touch him. 

You'd squeaked out an apology and quickly left the office, much to Spencer's relief, because even after an ice bath and semi-public humiliation, he was hard and horny and his IQ had been knocked to roughly 7. 

How he'd wanted to keep you pinned in place, to stroke your cheek as he made sure you took each inch of him down your throat slowly, filling you up so you couldn't escape. 

How he'd wanted to keep his job as well, something he'd probably not get to do if JJ had decided to walk back in, or - god forbid - bring other witnesses to his debauchery. 

You were clumsy, and he was desperately horny, and you were both complete and total messes.

“I don't see how I can help you, Y/N,” Tara held up her hands in defeat as you begged for her help. 

“I'm competent with a gun, but it's not something I can teach you. I wouldn't know where to start.” 

“I just need someone to show me how to hold it properly. There's a trick to it, right? There has to be a trick to it?” 

“Ah yes, the old aim and shoot trick, I forgot about that one,” Rossi laughed, shaking his head at your office antics. 

You'd been interning for a few weeks, and the latest in a line of ability tests was shooting. You'd pretty much aced the physical fitness test, but you'd never even held a gun before joining the FBI, and you were struggling. 

“I've put in 10 hours at the shooting range in the last week, and the closest I've got to an accurate shot was hitting the next lane's paper. Don't ask.”

Your coworkers shared a sympathetic look as you sat down at the round table, ready to hear the next case details. 

“I'm relegated to office work until I pass this certificate, and I was not made for sitting at a desk for 7 hours.” 

“Well, why don't you ask Reid for help?” JJ said helpfully, bringing her coffee to her lips to hide the meddling smile plastered there. 

“Reid?” 

“He had some issues shooting when he was a rookie as well, but he put in some hours at the range, and now he's the best shot on the team.” 

“Easy there, blondie, I'm nothing to sniff at with a gun myself,” Rossi smiled, patting himself on the back. 

“I'm sure he'd enjoy helping you,” JJ continued. 

“Who would enjoy what?” Spencer said, finally joining the team in the meeting room and pulling out the case files as everyone opened up their tablets. 

“Y/N was just saying she's having some trouble shooting, and I suggested she ask for your help?” 

He froze momentarily and stared down at you as you looked up at him, hopefully, a shy smile on your face. 

He tried to keep his eyes on yours, but from this height, he had the perfect view down your shirt, your perfect-sized breasts pressing together as you leaned towards him, giving him a generous eyeful. 

He looked away quickly and nodded his agreement, sitting himself down and attaching his eyes to the files instead so he could get his mind off of  your body, and your lips, and the begging that surely would've come out of your mouth had he not accepted earlier. His brain was tormenting him with images of you underneath him, under his desk even, his cock in your mouth as you paid for his precious time training you. He blinked away the thoughts and, for once in his life, actually had to put effort into reading and understanding each word on a page as he ignored the raging fire of his lust. 

A few hours later, the two of you were at the shooting range. 

“My main problem is shooting. The instructors said my form isn't great either and that I looked like a child playing with toys whenever I hold a gun, so if you could help with that…?” You said, putting on the goggles and turning back to look at your boss. 

“Doctor Reid?” You asked. 

“Oh, yeah. Yes, they said something similar when I was training. First, let's see what you can do.” 

You smiled at him as he watched you bounce up to the lane and pick up the gun. You calmed your breathing and got ready to take the safety off when you felt a hard hand clamp over your own and pull the gun from your hand. 

“What are you doing?” He asked, staring down at you with wide eyes. 

“You said to show you-”

“You're not wearing a vest.” 

You cursed quickly as he pulled you back over to the side of the room. The place was practically deserted, as it was past the official closing hours of the range, but Spencer had been forced to pull some strings with his new title and had managed to keep it open (and somehow unmanned) until now. 

He quickly grabbed the first vest he saw and pulled it over your head, taking the side straps and tightening them until the vest was comfortably protecting all your major organs. His hands lingered for a second, and you stared shocked up at him, somehow enjoying the way he pushed you around. 

You were a grown woman, and you could do this all by yourself, but there was something about a man roughly a decade and a half older than you controlling your movements that were entirely too dangerous. You quickly stepped away and back to the podium, whispering a quick thanks under your breath as you tried to ignore the heat pooling between your legs. 

You stretched out your neck a little as you felt him walk back behind you again, keeping his distance as he watched you shoot your first clip at the targets. 

Out of six bullets, you'd missed the target five times and had grazed just below the targets arm once, a brilliant display of your natural lack of talent. 

“Your form is wrong. You're holding yourself too rigid, which means the recoil has a higher chance to hurt you. Loosen your arms slightly.”

His advice was actually good  and you followed his instructions closely, listening clearly as he walked you through each tip. 

“Like this?” 

“A little more… here, let me.” 

You had no chance to react before his body was pressed behind yours and his hands were wrapped around your own, moving g each finger by a fraction to improve your grip, trailing up your arms slowly, leaving a field of goosebumps wherever his fingers grazed. He repositioned your elbows before moving forward his hands down to your hips, turning them slightly as he widened your stance. 

“Try now.” 

Breathless, you could only nod as he stepped back, unaware if he'd even said anything since his hands had landed on you. 

You forced yourself to breathe again and took one shot.

"Oh my god, it hit. Spencer, it hit!” 

“Do it again and we can celebrate.” 

Another five shots later, and you'd managed a small cluster of hits around the arms and one shot. 

“You're definitely veering left, so let's try and over correct by aiming to the right.”

He pushed up against you again and held the gun, moving it to the right a fraction, taking complete control of your body. 

If your breath was scarce before, it was totally gone now as you felt his crotch press up against your ass. Considering the bulletproof vests put an extra inch around your chests, he was absolutely doing it on purpose, and you were shocked to realize you were too. 

You'd pushed your ass back into him, grinding slowly on his hardening cock as he hooked his head over your shoulder, looked down the sight with you, and fired the gun. 

Straight into the center of the target. 

“Good girl,” he whispered before pulling away.  

He moved two meters away from you, and maintained the distance for the rest of the night, and even though you were both aware of his hard cock tightening his pants, neither of you said a word. 

“Same time tomorrow,” he said and grabbed his jacket to leave. It was the first thing he'd said as your Unit Chief that even vaguely sounded like a command and not an enthusiastic suggestion, and you were suddenly very excited for the rest of the week. 

“Before we start,” he said the next day, unbuttoning his shirt sleeves and rolling them up to his elbows neatly. “Show me your posture again.” 

He gestured towards one of the dummy guns at the side of the range, the style you recognised from mission training that held small layers instead of bullets - same weight, same mechanism, no lethality. 

You'd spent the day and night worked up from the last time you'd been here with him, and a small part of you felt disappointed you were starting with the kiddy gun. Not one to miss an opportunity, though. You bent over to pick it up, making sure to bend at the waist right in front of him to show off your ass. 

Maybe you'd gone crazy, but the memory of his touch was burning you from the inside out and you needed to feel it again to make sure you weren't crazy. 

He maintained his distance, though. It was hard for him to keep his hands off you in all honesty, arms crossed to keep himself from crossing any more lines. That and he was sure that you'd be able to tell he'd spurted cum all over them in his office the night before despite him scrubbing them thoroughly multiple times, the weight of his guilt eating into him like a parasite.

“Arms up, point straight. Good.” You tried to keep still as he assessed your form, but his eyes prowled over you thoroughly, and you had to suppress a shudder. 

“You need to control your breathing, Y/N, you can't be afraid of pulling the trigger if you need to.” 

“I'm not-” 

“Shoulders back,” he said, moving to your side as he again began slightly correcting your form. 

Unlike the day before, though, this time, there were no bullets. And no bullets meant no bulletproof vest. 

That's why when his exploring hands came to your chest, he could feel your hardening nipples through the flimsy material of your dress. He could feel you pressing forward into his touch as his hands cupped your breast.

“Calm your heartbeat, Y/N. You need to stay calm so you can shoot straight, right?” 

The words sounded alien, even to him. His gaze was locked on the top of your shirt, looking down it to the slope of your chest, disappearing into your dress. He so wanted to let his hands disappear right along with them, to pull you back into his aching cock and play with your nipples until you cried out for mercy. 

He let his touch fall and played off his molestation as correction, even as your underwear grew slick with desire. 

“Grab your vest. Let's try again.” 

A week of late night training later, and you weren't sure if you were improving at all. The guns were the last thing on your mind when Spencer's hands were on you, his voice in your ear telling you how good you were for him, such a good subordinate. 

Both of you had yet to acknowledge that you were spending the majority of the session just rubbing up on each other, like teens at prom, desperate for whatever friction you could get without having to name the game you were playing. 

“Doctor Reid, if I hit the target this time, can you do something for me?” You chanced on the Friday, needing something else to tide you over for the weekend. 

“What do you need?” 

“No, no, nothing specific, just like a…a reward?"

He'd done his best to keep his hands off of you, which meant that he'd failed miserably, and he knew exactly what he'd like to treat you to as a reward. Keeping his hands of you in daytime hours had become harder and harder as the week flew by, and he felt like a randy school boy the amount of times he'd needed to excuse himself to either kill his bones or abuse his cock with his hand.

“Oh,” he said, growing quiet. You took his hesitation for rejection, and immediately began to back pedal. 

“Y-You don't have to, sir. It was really quite conceited on my part to demand a reward from y-” 

“Okay.” 

“Okay?” 

“If you shoot six bullets that hit either the chest or the head, you'll get a reward.”

You smiled brightly at him, suddenly feeling very hopeful. 

“But if you miss, you'll get the opposite.” 

The words were out of his mouth before he could even think about what they meant. Just hearing the words made him want to visibly cringe and write himself up for office misconduct. But your smile didn't fade one bit. 

“Yes, sir. I won't let you down.” 

Turning away from him, you loaded your weapon again, and he watched you put yourself into the correct position. Despite his middling efforts to actually teach you, you had seemed to have improved over the last few days. 

He wasn't sure if he wanted that outcome. 

Just as you stepped up to take your first shot, he stepped closer to you, wrapped his hands around your waist, and pushed up against you. 

Your first shot veered left, completely missing the target as you gasped. Spencer had popped open the front button of your pants and was unzipping them, letting his hand wonder down to your panties. 

“Look straight. There will be distractions out in the field, you can do this, right?” 

“Y-Yes, sir.” 

“Good girl.” 

You tried to steady your breathing g and your hands again as he began rubbing slow circles into your underwear, your body alight with lust as you let him. 

Your second shot hit the paper. Your third didn't. 

“You can do better than that, Y/N.” 

You took another deep breath and picked up your gun again, shooting just as he shoved your underwear to one side and dipped his fingers into you. 

Your mouth opened in a silent moan as you quickly shot your last three bullets, not caring where they went so much as where his fingers went. 

“Y/N, I expected better,” you could hear the smile in his voice as he took the gun from your hands with his spare. “You can't even handle a weapon like this.” 

He kept his fingers pumping shallowly inside you, as he inspected the gun again. 

“Maybe you'd learn better under duress. I did, too. It's easy to learn when there's a gun pointed yo your head, right?” 

He quickly turned the gun on you  pushing it to your temple as his other hand shoved your pants down. He angled you forward with a press of his hips as his fingers returned to your cunt and slipped deeper inside. 

“S-Spencer, fuck-” 

“You missed all six bullets, so punishment it is.” His fingers gained speed as you stood, flushed and spreading your legs for him. You wanted to bury your head in your arms and scream out your moans, but the gun to your head kept you quiet and in place. 

“You may not be able to shoot a gun, Y/N, but that doesn't mean you're not enjoying them. You're so wet for me.” 

Tears sprung to your eyes as you felt your climax build and build, chasing the high you'd been searching for with every unprotected touch. 

You were letting your boss touch you, letting a man almost old enough to be your father hold a gun to your head, and you were going to squirt all over his fingers very soon. 

“Spencer, Spencer, please- please….”

“Shhh, it’s okay. There's nothing to be embarrassed about. You just needed some more help learning. You can cum now, princess. It's okay, let go.” 

You tried your best to hold back, but your body had a mind of its own as your orgasm hit you, the cold metal of the gun finally moving away from your head. 

With one hand around your waist, pinning you to the side so you stayed upright, Spencer carefully placed the gun back down before dragging your pants back up your legs. 

Taking your elbow in his hand, he walked you to the door as you blinked out the daze in your eyes. 

“We're going to my office now. To talk about your recent performance.” 

You couldn't have cared less what he'd said as long as his hands were on you, stretching your head back so it rested on his chest and pushing up until your lips could connect with the bare skin at his neck. 

“Hands off. We're going to walk all the way back to my office, and you're not going to let anyone know what just happened, okay? Not with your words, or your expressions or body language, okay?” 

You nodded, but he kept a hand on your elbow, gesturing yourself forward. 

You weren't sure how you were even able to walk after what had to have been the most intense orgasm of your life, but the promise of more likely carried you all the way up the stairs until you were comfortably enclosed in Spencer's  office. 

Like he'd found himself doing multiple times a day this month, Spencer closed the blinds, pulling you down to the sofa with him as he sat. 

“When I was your age,” he started, making sure your ass was facing up as he pushed your head into the cushions gently. 

“When I was your age, I couldn't shoot well. My Unit Chief had to kick some sense into me. I think you need that as well, right, Y/N? You need someone to beat some sense into you?” 

You nodded as he stroked your hair, and he thanked you for being so open to him. 

He made quick work of your pants and underwear, and in a quick hot burst, his hand came down on your ass. 

“Fuck, more. Please more!” 

He did it again and again as you squirmed in his lap and moaned, begging him to keep brutalizing you. 

“That's it, show me how pathetic you are, show me how much you're craving my attention.” 

He pushed your legs off of his lap until you were kneeling on the floor underneath him. He pulled up your arms and pulled your shirt over your head, similarly discarding your tank top and bra until you were totally bare on the floor in front of him. 

Instead of stripping himself yet, he pulled out his phone, palming himself through his pants. 

“Show yourself off,” he said, pointing the camera at you. 

You followed his directions quickly, hands flying to your tits to fondle them while he took pictures of your fucked our face. 

With his foot he gently nudged you down onto all yours, letting you know to turn around so he could flash a picture or two of your sloppy cunt as well. 

Your hips rocked back and forth in the air, unconsciously searching for something to rub against, some relief from your frustrations. 

He kept snapping pictures. 

Deciding that you needed his attention and stat, you let your chest fall to the floor, face flat too as your hips lifted higher in the air. Your hands found your ass cheeks, and you spread them slightly, giving Spencer an even better view of how much you needed him. 

He took one last photo, and then he knelt behind you faster than you could expect. 

In a heartbeat, his pants were down, in two his cock was buried deep inside of you. 

“So…tight, shit. You're such a precious little slut, you kept this little pussy nice and fresh just for me, right?” 

It was all you could do not to cum right there, and when he started moving you were a goner. It had always been easier for you to cum a second time than it was for you to cum a first time, and considering how quick he'd made it happen earlier, you really should've been expecting it. 

Your body convulsed around his cock as you screamed into the floor, hands still spreading yourself wide for him as he rutted into you. 

“That's it, milk my cock, Y/N. Milk your bosses cock, let me blow my load inside you.” 

Your nipples rubbed painfully against the carpet, only adding to the storm of stimulation you were experiencing. 

His hips faltered as he collapsed over your body, holding tight as his muscles locked him into place with his orgasm. He came inside you with a grunt, and he felt your cunt still clenching around him, making sure to take every last drop. 

“That- was much - preferable,” you said, gasping for breath. “To shooting - any gun.” 

He rolled off of you as you laughed, body satiated now for the first time in what felt like forever. 

“You still need to work on your gun skills,” he said after you'd detangled yourself, but before either if you had worked up the courage to leave the floor and get dressed. 

“Why?” You said, turning your head to look at him  lying on the floor next to you. 

“It seems I can fire pretty accurately already,” you said, as your hand snaked down to his cock one more time. 

[tired-teacher-blog]

Virgin Pro hero Iida whose mind couldn't be less concerned about the subject despite him nearing his thirties.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who usually brushes off his friends' teasing words about him being "clueless around girls" and "surely to die alone" since his one and only goal in life is to be a hero worthy of carrying his brother's title, and nothing more.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who has the habit of scolding you each time you playfully ask him out on a date since he's just so used to everyone's mocking and believes it's what you're doing as well.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who is tragically unaware of your true feelings for him, and for someone who appears to be quite sharp and brainy, he constantly misses the longing gaze in your eyes.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who finally agrees to join you for dinner one evening just to shut you up and put an end to your pestering, only to wind up having a wonderful time with you, away from the usual stress of work.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who starts freaking out the moment he realizes that your soft voice and beautiful face are now hunting him, plaguing his every waking hour and rendering his mind a tangled mess, and the more he tries to deny it, the clearer it becomes that you are no longer just a dear friend to him, but potentially something a lot more than that.

Virgin Pro hero Iida whose peculiar tics seem to worsen around you, prompting your confusion as you watch him lose his composure before disappearing without a trace.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who secretly wishes you would ask him out again since he cannot bring himself to do it no matter how much he tries.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who almost yells his agreement when his wish finally comes true as you casually suggest having a drink together after work.

Virgin Pro hero Iida whose blush refuses to leave his face while he strives to keep his cool around you, beating himself up for seeming like a loser, but is unaware of how adorable he appears to you.

Virgin Pro hero Iida whose priorities start to shift and broaden a bit -to potentially include you- the moment your hand accidentally brushes against his own when walking you back home after your fourth date.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who can never explain the persistent heat waves washing over his body everytime you flash him a smile or call out his name, and in his confused virgin brain, it can only mean him suffering from an illness which seems to aggravate with your presence. Yeah, that must be it.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who almost breaks into laughter when he realizes the real reason behind his inexplicable state the moment you share your first kiss. It was never a virus or a mysterious syndrome that hit him, it was simply you all along.

Virgin Pro hero Iida whose arms shakily sneak around your waist and bring you against his toned chest to prolong this magical moment while your lips are moving perfectly together.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who's unaware of the prominent smile plastered across his face for days now, his eagerness is growing by the second and the feeling of your soft breath fanning over his face as you leaned back from the kiss, is still vivid in his memory.

Virgin Pro hero Iida whose body stiffens -but only for a second- the moment you invite him into your apartment with a suggestive glint in your eye. He's not stupid, and understands your intentions perfectly as they mirror his own, but his restlessness and excitement are messing with his brain and preventing him from voicing his approval, so much so that he ends up stiffly stepping inside without a word.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who's barely able to form a coherent thought all throughout the movie you suggested watching together, and whose only interest seems to be in the way your fingers are absentmindedly playing with his own.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who's just about reached his limit when you clumsily move to straddle his waist and claim his lips in a tender kiss as the end credits roll up the screen.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who curses under his breath when feeling his cock hardening against your restless hips, he wants more but is unsure of how to proceed, or if it is even possible for him to withstand your teasing without bursting in his pants.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who suddenly stands up while holding you in his arms, searching your eyes for a permission to carry you to bed, and stumbling his way there when you shyly nod an approval.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who lays you down gently and kneels before you, a deep flush reaching the tips of his ears as he racks his brain for what to do next.

Virgin Pro hero Iida whose blush undeniably grows when you start giggling at his clumsy state and softly ask him to follow your lead as you guide his moves.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who's a quick learner, promptly takes control and relishes the way your directing words jumble up with broken moans as you finally give in to him.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who is a gentleman, does his utmost to pleasure you, as best as his virgin body allows, and boy does he do that!

Virgin Pro hero Iida who whimpers loudly while feeling your warm walls squeezing him blissfully for the very first time, praying to God not to cum right then and there as the sensation is driving him insane.

Virgin Pro hero Iida whose tears are threatening to spill as he buries his face in the crook of your neck before giving in to them.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who cannot get enough of your warmth surrounding him, strokes, kisses and embraces you all night long while moving slowly and deeply into your heat and taking the time to explore your lustful body.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who breathlessly watches your enticing body splayed underneath himself with the hope of itching this heavenly image of you deep in his memory.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who is proud and elated to have you as his first, it was never about losing his virginity but rather, about experiencing it with the right person, and that is precisely who you are.

Divider by : @/cafekitsune

[satoruhour]

悟

a/n:a repost from my old blog ♡ / contains one sex joke / 0.9k

“satoru, come to bed, it’s late,” yawning, you pat the space beside you. he’s doing his nightly skincare routine, patting his face gently with the retinol serum he just bought.

“ya sure you don’t want to try it out?” gojo offers out the dropper, a hairband cutely pushed up to prevent his bangs from interfering.

“i don’t like slimey stuff on my face.” and you cringe, realising your mistake too late.

“and yet you give me your face to cu—”

“shut the fuck up,” you severely miss him, pillow landing on the floor beside him. he didn’t even bother to activate his technique, laughing out loud at your failed attempt.

gojo never did switch it on when he was with you. not when he decided that he’d give his all to you, not even he asked you to move in with him on a desperate full of nightmares, not when you first said i love you.

gojo satoru was soft around you, a sight that many would like to see yet only disclosing it to you. the you who got him falling when you’d hang out with his students, giving as much pointers as you could on cursed energy. that was when he decided, he’s sure. but again, there were countless other times where gojo recalls falling deeper and deeper in love with you. he smiles at that, capping the skin care bottle before quite literally jumping onto the bed.

“argh... satoru, what the hell? you’re heavy!” his weight was crushing you, emphasised more when he leans down to plant kisses on your features. the feigned anger turns to giggling and shielding hands which he easily seizes between his fingers.

“s-stop! ’toru!” your smile is like the first few hues of dusk. it makes him feel all warm and mushy inside, something the strongest normally wouldn’t have the luxury of feeling. satoru says, fuck it, because even i deserve love, even i deserve to be held. he repeats those words you said to him the first time he broke down in front of you, and he does it all the time, now.

gojo is brought back to reality when you cup his cheeks gently, not minding the slimey stuff as you caress his skin. your hands accommodate his smile, cheeks filling up with how he’s grinning down at you and you feel dizzy with the immense love you have for him.

“you’re insanely beautiful, satoru,” you say it like it wouldn’t boost his ego, but you can’t care much when that much is true, noticing how much his hair resembles starlight and how his azure eyes catch the moonlight so perfectly.

gojo could say the same about you.

he sucks in a breath when he hears the compliment, the familiar cocky smirk and corny line lingering on his lips — he figured it’s just different when the words come from you.

“say it again.”

“hm? you’re beautiful, terribly b—” your mouth parts in surprise when the other lowers himself to your side, which prompts you to lie on your lone shoulder.

“no, my love, i meant my name.” gojo pulls you closer, lighting your skin with flames.

“oh! okay! uhm, sa— toru?” you giggle, the name falling weirdly from your lips now that you were demanded to say it. you try again, “satoru.”

your lover smiles, scooting closer, “again.”

“satoru.” the syllables leaving your lips makes him feel dizzy and giddy. while he enjoys being told his voice sounds like silk and syrup, he finds that it fits you better, bringing his face to rest only inches from yours.

“again.”

“satoru,” you whisper, a shy smile overtaking your lips. soon, they’re captured by gojo’s, moving tenderly against yours. you’re certain you see the sky painted in many different colours before your eyes close, the mere thought of gojo sending you reeling and cheeks flushing.

gojo’s kisses are slow tonight, savouring every part of your mouth before he slips his tongue in, entwining with yours as he continues to make you fall harder. it works. breathlessly, you smile into the kiss to hopefully get a bit of air, feeling the reply of a grin on your lips when his irises open up to look at yours.

“love you.” you murmur, ghosting along his lips before he smashes his lips against yours again, albeit clumsily that you two let out collective laughs.

people only ever call him gojo satoru, the strongest. he’s never found much identity, always a pawn for the higher-ups to play with, but when sa-to-ru falls from your lips? god, he can compare it to being caught in cupid’s arms. you give meaning to his name — satoru, satoru, satoru, you whisper, knowing that it meant enlighten, and he’s certain that’s all you do whenever you’re around.

you’re always lighting up his life, always loving him with no restraint.

“angel?” gojo whispers in between kisses. you respond sleepily, tracing incoherent patterns along his chest. the words are caught in his throat when you fingers go over the 悟 of his name, three syllables packaged into a single character. he didn’t expect you to remember, but it breathes some life back into him when you do it over his heart. he can’t remember the last time he let someone trace his name so intimately.

“your first name is beautiful, satoru, just like you,” you peck his lips. “now rest, you have a long day tomorrow.”

“i love you too,” the other replies a little late. his heart clenches up at the sight of you, caged and safe in his arms that he isn’t sure what to do with his hands. “i love you. i love you. i love you so much.”

with one last lingering kiss, you both succumb to slumber in peace, with gojo satoru’s first name in the palm of your hand, and his last name aching to take its place in front of your own.

[lovebugism]

hi bug! can I please request the dialogue prompt “Hold up, she said what?” with steve and shy!reader? maybe she is robin’s friend and robin tells steve something reader said (maybe that she thinks steve is cute or nice or something of the sort), and it leads to a cute conversation between the two?

ty for requesting angel!! — steve finds out the cute girl at the record store likes him and decides to bring her ice cream as a proclamation of love (shy!fem!reader, friends to lovers, tooth-rotting fluff, 2.3k)

blurbcember ⋆⁺₊⋆ ❄ ⁺₊⋆ ❄

“Wait, wait, wait,” Steve interjects suddenly, a metal scoop in his hand and a wild look in his eye. “She said what?”

Robin fumbles with the metal tub of Peppermint-Chip ice cream she’s refilling. It clangs when she drops it into place with haphazard care. The shop goes unusually silent without her rambling to fill the dead air. Holly, Jolly Christmas crackles quietly from the broken speakers overhead.

The girl blinks at him with a wide ocean gaze. Her rogue-tinted mouth falls softly agape. She knows she’s said the wrong thing, but she can’t remember what.

“...Huh?”

“What’d you just say?”

Her doe eyes flit to the left for a moment. It takes her a second or more to recall the words she’d only just said. She does this thing sometimes where she rambles on and on about nothing, and Steve was the first person in the whole world to let her. So it’s way too easy for her to tell him a billion things at once and forget about all of them a second later.

“That the music store just got new cassettes in?” Robin answers, her gritty voice a few octaves higher than usual.

Steve nods slow and with a crooked grin that pulls at the corners of his mouth. He rests his elbow on the glass case above the ice cream and eggs her on. “After that?”

“…That you and the pretty new girl that works there have the same taste in music?”

“Before that.”

“That she said she wanted to show you the new tapes,” she says, wincing with the realization that she had, in fact, said the wrong thing. A secret she swore not to tell has just spilled from her lips without her even knowing it.

“And?” Steve lilts with a wider, rosier smile.

“Because she likes you…” Robin confesses (or rather, re-confesses) with her teeth gritted.

Even though Steve had heard her perfectly the first time, hearing it the second makes his heart skip a beat. The pulsing organ lurches into his throat. He almost forgets how to breathe.

“She likes me?” he repeats, mostly whispering, with an incredulous gape of shock. His bushy brows raise until his forehead wrinkles. His eyes go wide until the honey of them starts to glimmer.

Despite her best friend’s lovesick disposition, Robin’s freckled face hardens. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you that,” she rumbles like a storm cloud, knocking her shoulder against his when she walks by him.

“Why?” Steve retorts like a child, following behind her just the same. 

He nearly bumps into her when she stops short at the deep freezer. She returns the cloth mits she carried the ice cream in with after spending her whole break organizing the case by color. Steve could never even be bothered to put the damn things back where they belonged in the first place.

“Because I swore to her I wouldn’t,” Robin agonizes, then whips around to face him again. Her features are twisted like a hurt puppy as she pleads. “Don’t tell her I said anything either, okay? She’ll hate me.”

Steve wasn’t planning on it. Not because he thought it might make you hate her, though. He’s not entirely sure you’re capable of that. 

He’s only known you for a few months — ever since the leaves started changing color and people traded their ice cream cones for cool music at the new record store. He spent half that time admiring you across the landing, but you’ve never been anything but gentle with him. You were soft, with a soul of sunshine. 

He didn’t know it was possible to be made of sunlight until he met you.

“Well, did you tell her I liked her back?” he presses, hoping Robin might’ve done some of the hard work for him.

Her face screws up like she’s tasted something sour. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I promised you I wouldn’t.”

Steve shoots her a deadpanned look.

Robin caves. 

“It’s not like I meant to tell you she liked you just now, okay? It just came out!” she explains, gesturing wildly with her hands. “Maybe next time I stick my foot in my mouth around the new girl, I’ll tell her that you’re obsessed with her, and the two of you can finally start dating instead of making sex eyes at each other all the time.”

He wouldn’t put that past her. Robin the Mastermind, Robin the Blabbermouth, Robin the Matchmaker. But his fluttering heart is pumping with too much adrenaline now. He feels like he could move mountains with the knowledge of your affections — knowing that all his own big, fuzzy, suffocating feelings have been reciprocated all this time.

If he doesn’t talk to you now, he’s scared he’ll never work up this kind of courage again.

“No. Screw that,” he concludes with a shake of his head. He’s in King Steve mode now — feeling half as suave as he used to back when the whole town was falling at his feet — chest puffed and ego reeling. “I’m gonna go talk to her.”

Robin watches, dumbfounded, as he dumps a scoop of their best-selling ice cream into a paper bowl. Another tub she’ll have to refill. Steve ducks under the counter door and heads for the exit. “Wait— what am I supposed to do?” the girl shouts across the empty store.

Now out in the bustling Starcourt mall and taking short strides towards the music store, Steve spins on his heel to face her. He shrugs and readjusts the sailor’s cap on his head. “Wait for me to get back.”

—————

You’ve been banished to the back of the store.

Not exactly. But that’s what it feels like.

You got a bit too overwhelmed working the front counter, and since Eddie’s crazy soft on you, he let you put up all the Christmas decorations he’d been putting off instead. It’s a win-win situation, really. 

You’re stringing up sparkling tinsel over the rows of records when a deep blue sailor’s uniform catches your eye. Looking over your shoulder, you find Steve in all his glorysauntering towards you. He’s wearing shorts even though it’s basically winter now in Indiana. He’s beaming at you like sunshine anyway.

Beneath the amber glow of the dimly lit store, he looks borderline angelic. Almost unfairly ethereal.

“What’s that?” you wonder with a smile you don’t even know is there, nodding to the Scoops Ahoy brandedcup in his hand. 

You can almost smell the syrup-cinnamon concoction of the ice cream he holds in his palm. Or maybe that’s just Steve, and the sugary sweetness is radiating from his pores after working in a confectionary shop during the holidays.

He looks at you even sweeter.

“New flavor,” he answers vaguely, smirking as he leans against the metal shelves. He stumbles slightly when it rocks beneath his weight. “Oops. Sorry. It’s, uh— It’s pancake chunks with maple syrup swirl. I call it Wake and Bake.” 

A giggle tumbles from your lips when he hands it to you. “Eddie’s gonna love that,” you murmur.

“Well, it’s actually called Breakfast in Bed, but— I don’t know— I thought my idea was better.”

“Way better,” you concur with a nod and a pretty smile.

Steve watches with attentive honey eyes as you spoon a bite into your mouth. He feels a bit like it’ll be his fault if you hate it. His irrational need to impress you always makes him feel hopelessly inadequate. 

“Woah,” you hum without your mouth still a little full. The cream melts softly on your tongue, tasting of a sweet and early morning. “This is really good.”

His brows raise, and his eyes widen. “Yeah?” he wonders. Your words wash over him like a compliment for a reason he can’t name. It feels good to make you feel good.

“Mhmm. I might have to come by after work and buy the rest of it, actually,” you joke with a curt shrug. It’s a feeble confession — your way of telling him that you want to see him more because you could never say the real thing out loud.

Your heart sinks when Steve shakes his head. Then swells when he smiles.

“No way,” he scoffs, lips curling into a lopsided grin. “I’m not gonna let you pay for it— that’s crazy.”

“You can’t keep giving me free ice cream, Steve—”

“What my manager doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” he lilts lowly and with a cool shrug that makes you melt. He goes very distinctly soft when he looks at you, all scruffy-faced and sweet-eyed. 

It’s suffocatingly beautiful. You crack under the pressure of it. 

“Well, uh— Thanks for the— ice cream,” you stammer and motion the bowl back to him. Thanks for stopping by and keeping me company, but you’re too pretty and I’m not sure how much longer I can take it, you don’t say.

“You don’t want the rest?” he asks with pinched brows.

“I just… should probably get back to work, you know?”

“Eddie doesn’t let you take breaks?”

“No, he does,” you answer quickly, shifting your weight on your feet. It becomes virtually impossible to meet his gaze. “Just not with…”

Steve’s brows raise when you trail off. “Not with me?” he finishes with a laugh.

“Well, not with the… pretty-boy-ice-cream-slinger in the sailor’s uniform,” you correct, then quickly follow. “His words. Not mine.”

In all honesty, Steve couldn’t care less about what Eddie Munson has to say about him. If Hawkins’s local freak is the only thing standing between him and the pretty girl at the music store, he’s down to break a couple of dumb rules.

He takes a small step towards you. His pink smirk widens. You swear your heart stops when he looks at you with it. “You don’t think I’m pretty?” he teases with a twinkle in his squinted eye.

Suddenly, there’s a frog in your throat and you’re fourteen all over again. You’re flustered and drowning and totally unsure of yourself. “I didn’t say that,” you mutter, gaze flittering and smile wavering.

Steve goes to rest his elbow on the shelf again, then remembers its unsteadiness and decides against it. His arm rests awkwardly in the air for half a moment before he crosses both of them over his chest. 

“Well, I mean, you didn’t not say it, so…”

You squint up at him, busying your clammy hands with the melting ice cream in your palm. You know what he’s fishing for. Your pride urges you to stay silent even though your heart sings the sweetest songs for him. 

“You know you’re pretty, Steve,” you murmur matter of factly.

“But do you think I’m pretty?”

Your thundering heart lurches into your throat when Steve takes another small step closer. He smells like wintertime — like Christmas and nostalgia and boy. You don’t trust your voice to answer him verbally, so you nod, slow and sheepish.

“Good,” he hums with a beam he couldn’t hide if he tried. “‘Cause I think you’re pretty, too.”

Your chest gets all sparkly at his admission — the affirmation that all your girlish feelings are being reciprocated by a boy you never dreamed you could have. You don’t feel hardly deserving of the fondness dripping from his features, but you pray he never stops looking at you with it.

You grow warm with the irrational hope that he might kiss you. You think he might actually kiss you until your boss’s voice pierces the golden bubble of puppy love the both of you are basking in.

“How’s the decorating going?” Eddie announces himself, appearing suddenly between the two aisles.

Robin idles at his side. She’s in the feminine version of Steve’s sailor outfit — with silver chains around her neck and bandaids on her knees. Effortlessly endearing and totally unaware of it all.

You push Steve away from you without thinking, all but shoving the softening ice cream into his chest. Some of it smears white against the scarlet tie around his chest. “Sorry!” you exclaim in your moment of fleeting panic, then turn to Eddie with the same apologetic wince. “Sorry…” you repeat quieter.

“Robin?” Steve gapes at the sight of his best friend — apparently the second thing standing in his way, right beside the freak. “What the hell are you doing here— did you tattle on me? What are you, four?”

“I got lonely,” the brunette answers plainly. “And I knew you were around here somewhere, so I asked Eddie where you were—” She waves a pale hand your way, fingers painted with chipping maroon polish.  “—And now I’m here.”

Eddie grins wide and tilts his wild head to his shoulder. “Yeah. Can’t believe you’re trying to taint my one good employee, Steven.”

“I’m not tainting anybody, Munson,” he bites back like a bickering brother, then screws up his face and turns to Robin. “Wait. If you’re here, who’s manning the counter?”

Her freckled face falls like a child caught in a fib. Her deep blue eyes widen when she blinks at him. In a mousier voice, she confesses, “Dustin came by… And I told him he could eat all the ice cream he wanted as long as he made sure no one stole anything.”

The four of you fall silent. The soft rock of Christmas Wrapping plays weakly from the radio at the front of the store. Eddie breaks first. ‘Cause he can’t ever be serious about anything. 

The boyish sound of his laughter sends a giggle sputtering from your lips. The pretty noise makes Steve smile despite his baffled disbelief.

He turns to you with a dumbfounded grin. “You’re still stopping by after work, right?”

“Yeah,” you answer softly, nodding as your smiling face grows hot.

Eddie scoffs when Steve walks by him. “If you still have a job by then.”

[bet-on-me-13]

Bank Security Guard Danny AU

So, the People of Gotham are extremely desensitized to Rouge Attacks at this point. It got to the point that whenever a person gets a job at the Bank, they have a whole 1 Hour Training Video on how to deal with a Rouge Attack right.

So, when they hire a New Security Guard from a lesser known Security Company, they don't even bother showing him the Training Video. They assume that he'll either Die or Drop them within a Week.

Danny, for the record, did not know how bad the Rouge problem truly was. All he knew was that some random guy in a Ski Mask had just walked into the bank like he owned the place and started showing off a Gun telling everybody to get on the ground.

Danny did the sensible thing and Knocked him the Fuck Out.

Then, the same thing happened the very next day, but this time it was an entire group of people. Danny had them dealt with before the first person had gotten to the floor.

Then the same thing happened the Same Day!

By the end of the week he had become a Legend among the Citizens of Gotham. There was only a single Bank in all of Gotham that had avoided being robbed for a Whole Week, and it was all because of this one Security Guard who was freakishly good at his Job.

By the end of the Month, most criminals don't even bother trying that Bank anymore. It got worse when he got loaned out as Security for another Bank, and the same thing happened again.

Eventually, he ends up rotating shifts in Every Bank in Gotham, and it becomes a Game for the Criminals to see if the Bank they try to Rob is the one Danny is in that night. And they can't even reasonably predict his next location, since he always moves around at Random!

No matter what Bank he is in, he always manages to beat the Crooks trying to Rob the Bank.

Then it gets weird. Due to a scheduling Mix Up, Danny ends up being scheduled for 2 different Banks on the same day, each across the city from the other.

One Bank reports that Danny stopped a gang from Robbing them at 6:00 PM, which really confuses the other Bank because Danny did the same thing in their Bank at the same time. Security Footage proves it, Danny was somehow in 2 places at once.

They decide not to confront him about it, but they do test a theory. They intentionally hire him at multiple different Banks at the same time for a week. He shows up to work every time without fail.

By now they have basically confirmed that he must be a Meta, but they don't really care anyways. Now he can protect multiple Banks at once with his usual perfect Efficiency, and he'll be payed accordingly as well. The Banks get protected well, and he gets payed Extreme Overtime by the Banks, everybody wins!

Well...except for the Crime Bosses of Gotham.

Before this, it was a Game for them to try and beat Danny. They didn't really care since a single Uber Competent Security Guard was still perfectly fine for business, sure they would fail a Job once in a while if they ran into him, but he could only be in 1 place at a time. It wasn't a Huge Loss.

But now it was too much. They needed to take care of him.

Assassination Attempts didn't work. He was just as competent Off the job as he was On it, so they could never get to him.

They tried attacking his Bosses, but then they hired themselves to protect...themselves. It was hard to kill his Bosses when he was constantly Bodyguarding all of them at once.

Attempts to get to him through his Family were...let's not talk about that...

It continued on like this for a while.

...

Soooo...I don't know how to end this one.

Go ahead and put your own spin on this Prompt! The basic idea is that Danny is using his Duplication Power to get to every shift on Time, and he is really annoying the Local Crime Bosses.

What do you think?