#fuckin throws up all over the other persons carpet

[vvo1d1ing]

does a lil dance

fucking falls off balance as i sneeze and cough my lungs out

bunch of photos fly out of pockets and it's all just me stalking Astarion and Gortash and giving them good night smooches

[miupow]

★ ── OTHER THAN THE BED... ? ⸝⸝ [ HYUNG LINE ]

skz hyung line and their favorite places to fuck ! ♡

[ ⟡ ] ── NSFW, MDNI! ⭑ fem!reader, dom!skz, mirror sex, couch sex, riding, doggy, light primal play, talk of exhibitionism, name calling, spanking, wall sex, degradation, manhandling, possessive behavior

੭ ⭑ 𓂃⠀⠀⠀⠀[ 0.7k ] ⭑ [ m. list ] ⭑ [ reblogs and feedback appreciated! ]

⟡ 방찬 BANG CHAN -> bathroom mirror.

chan grabbed a fistful of your hair, tugged hard so you lift your head to face him-- or rather, the mirror in front of you. he had you bent obscenely over the bathroom sink, fat cock pistoning in and out of your dripping cunt from behind, his thrusts so hard and deep that the sink digs painfully into your hips and you keep narrowly missing hitting the mirror with your forehead. "look at you~" he cooed so sugary sweet, nasty and condescending, the smacking of skin and the wet squelches from your cunt nearly drowning out his voice, echoing against the bathroom tile. "look so pretty like this, babygirl." you hardly recognized the person that stared back at you in the mirror; your mouth hung open, unable to contain your moans and shrill cries of pleasure, drool leaving your chin spit-slick and shiny. your eyes were blown out, dazed and unfocused and utterly debauched. you wanted to avert your eyes, but chan wouldn't let you look away. you can see his handsome, sweaty face and his pretty smirk behind you in the mirror, his tanned skin pink and his hair sticking to his forehead. "go ahead, pretty girl, tell me what you see."

⟡ 민호 MINHO -> the floor.

"such a tight fucking pussy, so good for me--" minho rasped, panting like a dog; the pace of his hips made you throw your head back and wail, his pretty cock hitting so deep inside you were seeing stars. you had been being a brat all night, pushed minho's buttons until he snapped and put you back in your place-- he had pushed you down onto the living room floor and mounted you right there like some kind of animal, held you in place with his long fingers pressing blooming purple and pink bruises to your hips and neck. "gonna make me cum soon, fuck baby... gonna let me cum inside? let me fill you up?" your knees burned from the carpet but you couldn't find it in you to care, not when minho was fucking you this good. he goes faster, harder, enamored with the way your ass jiggled fom his thrusts, the way your moans only got higher, more pathetic and whiny. he slapped your ass, hard, and snickered to himself as you choked on your scream. "you like it when i fuck you like this, huh? whore. right here where anyone could see you? see how good i give it to you? fuck, my girl's such a nasty slut."

⟡ 창빈 CHANGBIN -> the wall.

"who's pussy is this?" changbin growled into your ear, calloused hands folding you in half as he pounded you against the wall. "hm? who's pussy does this belong to? since you don't seem to fuckin' remember." your legs swung uselessly over his shoulders, bin's white-knuckle grip pressing your knees up against your chest-- his thick fat cock hit all of the right spots, kissed your cervix with every rough thrust, filled you up so deliciously you were rendered completely speechless.. "i-i'm sorry!" you warbled, scratching uselessly at his bulging biceps, unable to say much else with his thick fingers sliding down your thigh to rub tight circles against your swollen, aching clit. you could hardly focus, greedily drinking in eyefulls of changbin's big arms as he flexed to keep you firm against the wall. "it's yours! i'm yours!" "damned right," he grunted, huffing breath unsteady, his thrusts growing slick and sloppy as he neared his climax. "fuck yeah, you're mine, all mine."

⟡ 현진 HYUNJIN -> the couch.

"i just want to cuddle, baby," he had sworn with a smile, patting his lap so invitingly and beckoning you to come sit, but you knew he was lying straight through his teeth-- in no time at all hyunjin had you stripped naked and bouncing up and down on his cock, helping you set the pace with his hands gripping tight on your ass, alternating between squeezing and slapping the flesh, his evil grin widening with every whimper and gasp he managed to get out of you. his big long cock was so deep it made your head spin; you could feel him in your tummy, his hips meeting yours with deafening smacks... "jinnie, jinnie, i'm gonna cum!" you squealed, your nails digging crescents into hyunjin's shoulders; he just bounced you harder, fucked you deeper, threw his head back against the couch cushions when your wet gummy walls spasm and flutter around his shaft. "shit, baby, gonna cum for me? gonna make a mess?" he goaded eagerly, lopsided grin and unfocused eyes making your pussy clench hard around him. "go ahead baby, cum on my cock~"

[sugar-omi]

I been listening to 18+ audios (plz don’t hate I’m already ashamed of myself) and I came across one that was academic rivals fuck to study better, all I could think about was Cove and Mc who grew up hating each other somehow end up going to the same college and fucking their brains out every study session and because they still kind of hate each other still they’re the biggest fucking teases 

NO DONT WORRY BC I LISTENED/LISTEN TO THOSE N THEN I GO ON A SHAME STRIKE N THEN END UP PICKING IT BACK UP..... CURRENTLY ON SAID SHAME STRIKE BC MY EMBARRASSMENT ALWAYS CATCHES UP TO ME BUT WE'LL SES HOW LONG THAT FUCKIN LASTS.

but omfg that's so juicyyy... i have a absolutely sick migraine rn but I cannot ignore this.

gn reader, multiple choice dialogue.

the masochist in me likes to imagine cove pulling you into his lap, slipping his fingers into your mouth to help keep you quiet, and growls about how much of a dumb bunny you are.

you say you hate him, you can hardly share the same air without bickering. but you jump at the chance to be alone with him, feigning ignorance about the subject just so he'll come around to your side of the table n sit by you.. your hand sliding up his thigh to his growing bulge...

he helps you as if he doesn't know what you're doing, doesn't feel your hand sliding along his hardening length or undoing his pants, and tries not to moan when you're slowly stroking his heavy cock in your fist..

finishes explaining the problem, and you cheerily tell him you get it now. feigning more ignorance.

he doesn't let you though, tells you there's another problem you need to solve.

mmm, cove pushing the chair back and forcing you to your knees, even better if you're wearing shorts or a skirt and when you come up, you whine about the marks on your knees from the carpet.

telling him he's mean and disgusting. as if you wouldn't do it again just so he'd shove his cock down your throat, looking up at his pretty expressions, the expanse of his throat when he throws his head back... or the way he peers down at you with sharp, hooded eyes.

fight all you want, though. because he still pulls you into his lap, tugging off your bottoms n underwear and making you ride him.

he holds your hips, helping you grind those pretty hips so he can see your expression falter and eyes turn dreamy when his cock hits that delicious spot inside you.

pulls you into a kiss, making you use up the last of your brain power to French kiss, kisses you until he can't tell where he starts and you end.

doesn't let you do all the work too long, because even though he teases you for being needy, for having dick on the brain instead of hitting the books, he's also desperate, wants to see you fall apart on his cock, wants to make you moan his name even if someone overheats you.

he needs it. needs to carve his name into your body until all you can think about is him.

but then the sadist.... the same thing pretty much but reversed.

he's all grunts and moans, sweat dripping off his brow as he fucks into you so furiously. he hates your bad attitude, your snarky comments, but somehow he still finds himself sneaking into your dorm room at night, or jerking off to the thought of you or the risqué video you sent him in the middle of the night. teasing him.

or like right now, he has you on your back in his bed, your legs over his shoulders, his arms wrapped tightly around your midriff and face buried in your neck as if you didn't give him a scowl nasty enough to kill a man and sneered words thickly laced with hate and disdain.

even now, even though you're moaning so pretty, and your cunt is making obscene wet sounds from cove's desperate fucking / your cock making obscene wet sounds in your hand, your cock leaking and throbbing in your fist.

you're still trying to growl insults into his ear, telling him he's so desperate for some ass that he'd fuck the one person he hates. you'll laugh when he has a mouthful of your cock / cunt, his tongue moving expertly along your sex from the years of sneaking around and fucking, even if just seconds ago you were glaring at each other.

but you can't deny you want him, love fucking him. and he loves it too, and he can't even say anything back when you say that stuff. because yeah, you get on his nerves so bad. and even though he can fuck someone else, women and men damn near falling over him. it's college, you'd be damn pressed not to get laid.

but you.. he just keeps coming back to you.

let's you fist his hair and tug it, let's you bite his shoulders and neck. only if he gets to fuck you, grab your hips in his big hands and squeeze the fay of your ass. smack it in retaliation for a bad hickey or three.

let's you talk shit and call him desperate, call him a slut when he pulls you out the hall into a single person bathroom, holding your hips still and his shirt between his teeth, trying to push you both over the edge quickly before your lunch break ends.

only so he gets to fuck himself stupid inside your hot walls. and only so you'll text him that same night, telling him to meet you wherever you're at, a picture of your desperation attached...

[ziipzeepzop-eez]

hey zeepie! HIHIHIHII!!!!

ermmm

irl bestie headcannons? why the hell not, happy Valentine's season (or smt) a lot of this is purely imaginative, as im cautious about ppl online. I hope you feel better ❤️

if we were irl besties, I would prolly be afraid to text you a lot. id send u shitty memes and funny shit id find on Pinterest and think you would judge me about it, before seeing you happily text me back.

we would text about things happening, like gen alpha slang, or about our future. lots of intrusive thoughts from my way with frightened commentary from you

while I may be busy often, I try to fit my friends with my schedule, even if they don't match often (they go to public school) so youd be invited to Mexican parties, bday parties, skating hangouts, or even the once-in-a-life-time boy girl party.

and other times, I just want to spend time w/ you. sometimes I would invite you to the park to simply interact, or we would visit each other's house for a self care day. Everytime I see you, I just tackle you in a giant hug, as you struggle to hold me a bit.

id bring all of my favorite masks, along with the best snacks possible. you would prolly have the blankets and towels. imagine me loading up fortnite on my Nintendo as I make you an account for your tv 💀💀💀

like the 'its my first time' adult x 'imma protect you no matter what' 16 yr old trope. you'd call me cringe as I finish setting you up, and invite to my party for 3 rounds of battle royale.

we lost all three 😭.... but! but- we did get at least 9 kills on average per round, that's a win for me 👀 the opps were too strong for us 😞🫴🏾

id steal your remote as i press the tubi app, choosing some trash iteration of the monkey king. you'd laugh so hard about it the whole time, while id be rambling about the quality of CGI and the differences between modern movies.

while we talk I may poke you a bit, you swatting my hands threatening to fight. it's just smt abt tickling that makes a blk person wanna throw hands 🫠 👊🏾💥👊🏾💥other times id sooth through your hair in a spaced out silence, not really minding anything.

you'd ask about my locs sometimes, and my haircare routine. (thinking abt it now, I haven't gotten my hair done in almost a month 💀) so you'd prolly ask why my roots are so fluffy instead of rolled up. a smile would com across your face as I continue to explain, telling you about the palm rolling + clipper process, the dangers of water, and oil buildup. you laugh as I tell you about my dream to dye my roots neon green, keeping my tips pink.

(fun fact: [and this could apply to every hair type, but especially locs] when you leave water in locs w/o drying properly, you could literally grow matted mold. it can become very smelly and strong, because hair in general ESPECIALLY CONJOINED HAIR soaks up water like a fuckin towel. and if you arent careful about the products u use/what products you use, and how often you wash your hair, it can cause oil buildup pretty easily.

im not sure why, but when I add water to my hair, my scalp dries up and it starts to shed 😭😭 I SWEAR I USE OIL-)

and sometimes ill disappear for a month. it won't be on purpose of course! as soon as I get my phone in my hands, I'm racing to send you my entire meme bank, making you cackle during the early hours of the morning.

and when we can't meet up, well just ramble to each other over call, or play shitty Roblox obbies on discord. throw writing ideas, communicate, au's fictional and irl, existential dread, carpet fuzz. anything really!

and we would be really good friends too- like, top tier verbalization, positive affirmations, and happiness all the way ❤️

the only thing I could think of you and me arguing about is the use of my n word tendencies for stupid things. or my procrastination-

but other than that, being your irl bestie would be awesome! id make sure of it ❤️

ohh uhym

just, uh, aha- gimme a second? chippy?- babe– ,,

[scampers away behind a conveniently placed bush, curls down into a squatting ball so only the back of my head is visible] Guueuuueeeeeeeeghehehgehegheeeghhhh,,, gaaaaasp– ghhhhhuuuuuuueeeerrrrrghhhhgehegeheeeeghehhhnngh 😭😭😭

THIS IS!! SO!! 😭😭 THIS!! 💥☝🏾 CHIP. 😫 CHIP. 😭 CHIPPY?? CHIPPYYYYYY 👹

I read this groggily after waking up from my sadness-induced nap and it immediately, IMMEDIATELY !!! ... made me smile. Like, so so big. SO, so BIG!!!

Aaaand I am so, MAD, that we don't know each other irl because?? I need this?? In my life??? I've,,, ALWAYS needed someone like this??????? & to finally have her!! But she is not here IN FRONT OF ME FOR ME TO HAVE AS THE BESTEST BESTIE EVER??? IT SHOULD BE A SIN PUNISHABLE BY INSTANT LIGHTNING STRIKE DEATH FROM GOD HIMSELF JKHHJHJHDJBSHDJHJ 👹😭🤬💔💔 LIKE I AM- FEENING FOR THIS ☝🏾 FRIENDSHIP EXACTLY GRUUURAGAHAGAAAAAAGHHHH

Like why are you not here in front of me rn?? WHy, *chokes* do you not live across from me in my lil ghetto ass neighborhood where the only thing that'd motivate me to go outside is you calling to me from my window?? Like it's not fair it simply isn't fair as a matter of fact, i think it's racist that we aren't irl friends like and ALL OF THIS DURING O U R MONTH likeeee. *sucks teeth* seems sketchy to me bro 😤💔 [I continue to ramble if only to shield the sounds of my heart shattering quite loudly in the background]

THE TUBI PART DID IT FOR ME 😭😭 HOW DO YOU KNOW I'VE SEEN THE CRUDDY REITERATIONS OF THE MONKEY KING??? I'd palette it MUCH more easier if it were you watching it with me instead of my parents :'')) I'm the type to crack up obnoxiously during movies and shows - our chaotic energy would bounce of e/o seamlessly and we'd be our own movie fr 🎬🤣

I ain't no gamer but I'd do it for you bookie. even if the opps did get us in the end. we did our best, trust 😞✊🏾 magic of friendship always prevails, feel me?

And !! Girl !! Black girl hair knowledge 😍💅🏾✨ AAAAAAAAAA!!! FROTHING AT THE MOUTH FOR IT SJDKDJ (/ns btw ksjsjsj just as a forewarning 😭😭💀 you get me girl) PLEASEEE I don't have thoroughly kinky hair, since i'm mixed so i never got the whole concept of it and anytime I'm bein made aware of afro-centric hair care i EAT THAT ISH UPPPPPPP. u're my new knowledge plug. like, this was edumacational. AND HONESTLY I THINK YOU HELPED ME TOO??? 🤣 I get reeeally bad buildup sometimes but I think it's because I air dry my hair, not really much at all!! :')) yes yes i know, cue the screams of horror. 💀 I SWEARRRR I'M LEARNING AND GROWING I JUST NEED TO USE MY BLOWDRYER JKJKS

AAAAAAAA we'd dye our hair together!!! 😍 that's honestly such a cute color combo, wholly underrated !! my tenderheaded self, but I'm a sucker for people stroking my hair/head bcuz it rarely happens nowadays 😭

sitting in comfortable silence? casual healthy platonic affection? posting up when you tryna start somethin with them pokes and tickles?? 😔✊🏾 yes please yes to all of it.

fr tho you can catch this fade if you keep tryin me bbygirl i be screeching like a banshee jsjsjsjss

UGHGHHHHHHHGGGGGGHHHHH the ✨positive reaffirmations and 🩷verbalization of love🩷✨

Like this a whole dream.

,,,real images of me caught in 8K UHD surround sound 32 Gigs ram, HDR GEFORCE RTX, TI-80 texas instruments, Triple A duracell battery ultrapower 100 Cargador Compatible iPhone 1A 5 W 1400 + Cable 100% 1 Metro Blanco Compatible iPhone 5 5 C 5S 6 SE 6S 7 8 X XR XS XS MAX GoPro hero 1 2 terabyte xbox series x Dell UltraSharp 49 Curved Monitor - U4919DW Sony HDC-3300R 2/3" CCD HD Super Motion Color Camera, 1080p Resolution Toshiba EM131A5C-SS Microwave Oven with Smart Sensor, Easy Clean Interior, ECO Mode and Sound On/Off, 1.2 Cu. ft, Stainless Steel HP LaserJet Pro M404n Monochrome Laser Printer with Built-in Ethernet (W1A52A) GE Voluson E10 Ultrasound Machine LG 23 Cu. Ft. Smart Wi-Fi Enabled InstaView Door-in-Door Counter-Depth Refrigerator with Craft Ice Maker GFW850SPNRS GE 28" Front Load Steam Washer 5.0 Cu. Ft. with SmartDispense, WiFi, OdorBlock and Sanitize and Allergen - Royal Sapphire Kohler K-3589 Cimarron Comfort Height Two-Piece Elongated 1.6 GPF Toilet with AquaPiston Flush Technology:

......,,,, SOmeone should hELP her. 🧍👀

[clears throat and composes myself]

Ahhh, my Chippy Choco Chip girl. You are already such bestie material online, I can only imagine how viscerally that translates to in person :'')))

If I can get a little personal here?? Ever since I was young, I wished and prayed and begged, for a friend. Like, a GOOD friend. A best friend. Someone who'd be there for me and actually want to spend time with me; oh you have no idea how much you healed little me typing this out, Chips (´；ω；｀) Tumblr, our moots as a whole have also healed the little Lilo in me and have simultaneously become my Stitch. :'))

This is the bestest thing I could've received for Valentine's (and yes I'm considering it as my valentine's/galentine's gift from u 🤨 problem?? *chkt chkt* ???..... yeah i didn't think so 😌. thank you.) and I am just. BLESSED. 🙏🏾😫

THANK YOU JESUS. JEHOVAH. GOD. ELOHIM. FOR, AT USER ITSYAGIRLCHIP. MY CHIPPY CHOPPY GIRL.

I love you pookie. ❤❤🫶🏾🫶🏾 Thanks for making me smile so hard my face almost stayed permanently that way today.

[thedarkestgreys]

Fexi - 29 ❤️

sorry for the wait sweet anon! also i may have blacked out writing this one because it's over 700 words and i'm not sure how. under the cut for length!

“You have nothing to worry about,” Lexi reminds her husband over Facetime as their separate glam teams get them ready for the Grammy’s in conjoined rooms. Not that anyone in the room knows she married the rapper in a private ceremony three months ago - all anyone really knows is that they met at a Grammy’s party two years ago and have pretty much been inseparable ever since. Fezco snorts lightly as Gemma - his personal assistant - hands him his take out order while his regular groomer cleans up the lines on his buzz cut. “They got you presenting with a guy known for takin’ his fuckin’ shirt off at any fuckin’ chance he’s given. These the Grammy’s baby, an’ music types ain’t all prim and proper like you’re acting buddies at the Oscar’s, you feel me?” Lexi rolls her eyes, much to the annoyance of her MUA Jesus. The man tuts at her and despite Fezco’s insistence that actors like Lexi are way more serious than musicians, she sticks her tongue out at the older man before he starts cursing at her in Spanish about messing up her makeup. “Real mature Lex,” Fez snickers as she throws a French fry at Jesus. “You win one fucking Oscar and everyone thinks you have to be like, a full time adult or something,” she complains lightly as Louise hands her a stack of rings for her left hand - her engagement and wedding bands mixing in with the other jewels easily. They may not be ready to tell the whole world they got married, but it doesn’t mean she’s about to walk a red carpet without her wedding rings. Fezco’s lucky, he’s been known to wear his fingers full of rings for years, even before he and Lexi became a Hollywood It Couple. She, on the other hand, has always been known for her more understated taste in jewelry, something that quickly became a problem when Fez proposed. “Hate to break it to ya shorty, but you just turned twenty-five like, two months ago. Been a whole ass adult for a minute.” “Oh my god, you know what I mean,” Lexi exclaims as a team of hair stylists start taking out the hot rollers that have been setting her hair. “You win for a dramatic role and people think that’s all you are capable of. Need I remind everyone I got my start on a CW comedy as a teenager? I have comedy skills.” “Aight baby, I hear you.” There’s a lull in the conversation as their respective teams start making them actually get ready, but Lexi’s unwilling to end the call, even though Fezco is literally in the room right next door. They’re expected on the red carpet in less than an hour, Fezco being a big time nominee for the night and every single outlet on the face of the planet is going to want a sound clip from him about his chances of winning big. She blows her husband a kiss before she get dragged into the bathroom to step into her gown for the night - perfectly coordinated with Fez’s suit for the evening. “We gotta go now,” her PA Morgan says, eyes trained to her Apple Watch. “Fezco is waiting outside the door.” With one last round of thank you's to her glam squad, Lexi accepts the clutch where Morgan has stored her essentials for the night with a grateful hug. Just like she was told, Fezco’s waiting right outside her hotel room door, whistling low when she steps over the threshold. “Too fuckin’ gorgeous,” he whispers as he pulls her in for a kiss, both Morgan and Gemma begging them to remember the makeup. “Can’t believe I get to call you my fuckin’ wife. Just don’t let that lil bitch do sumn inappropriate up on that stage tonight shorty, I ain’t hadda knock anyone out in a long ass time, but I can fight.” “No one’s ever getting in between us,” Lexi reassures him. “How about this though, if your name is the one I get to read off that card tonight, I’ll announce you as my husband and we can just put it all out there?” Fezco’s eyes light up. “Forreal baby?” “Yeah,” she says, leaning in to kiss him again. “I’m tired of hiding it.” “Aight,” he replies with a wicked grin. “You on Howard.”

[ybcpatrick]

hi we don’t know each other! but i have a picture of johnny knoxville wearing a shirt with one of your guys on it!! so funny that i can now recognize a couple of wrestlers in the wild despite not caring abt it at all. worlds colliding etc etc anyway cheers!

oh my GOD i'm so excited i get to tell you about this. you will regret this /j

since you happen to just Have a photo of johnny knoxville on hand, i'm guessing he's a special guy of yours, and in that case i've got great fucking news: back in late 2021/early 2022, jackass actually partnered with wwe to promote jackass forever. johnny knoxville ended up having a legitimate storyline feud with sami zayn.

so, the royal rumble is an event held every year in january. the draw of the show is the titular royal rumble match, wherein thirty competitors battle for the opportunity to main-event wrestlemania in april for a championship of their choosing. two people start in the ring, and then every ninety seconds, another competitor is added. to eliminate someone, you have to throw them over the top rope, and both of their feet must touch the ground.

now, i say "competitors" and not "wrestlers", because you don't actually have to be a wwe superstar to be in it. case in point: johnny knoxville announced on january 7th that he was gonna be in the rumble. sami (who, i should note, was a crazy bad guy at this time) was PISSED that a celebrity like knoxville could just show up and take spotlight away from real wrestlers. so when the rumble rolled around on january 29th, sami made sure to personally eliminate johnny.

johnny took that poorly. presidential alert, the girls are fighting.

on february 2nd, sami crashed the red carpet of the jackass forever premiere and johnny had security forcibly remove him from the premises

on february 18th, sami won the intercontinental championship off of shinsuke nakamura (hence johnny's shirt in the pic djekfhskfh). then, sami lost the title to ricochet thirteen days later, on march 4th, due to interference in the match by johnny knoxville

sami challenged johnny to an anything goes match at wrestlemania 38, johnny accepted

the match at WM38 is the stupidest shit in the world, and it's fucking AWESOME. it's goofy wrestling at its best, and sami's gone on record saying it's one of his favourite things he's ever done. it's got all the jackass shenaniganning you could want. if you've got twenty minutes, i highly recommend watching it, because the whole thing is on youtube.

and bonus points, even though sami's a good guy now and it's been over a year since it went down, johnny still "hates" sami's fucking guts and takes every possible opportunity to dunk on him. it's so good it's so fuckin good man. johnny knoxville is like a blorbo-in-law. to Me.

[stranded-star]

could i be the sky

fandom: the last of us

pairing: ellie x riley

everything ellie has ever known has been fury. meeting riley - well, it makes her believe in something more than an endless parade of misery and submission.

ellie and riley, before the mall.

—-

She kicks out, furious that she’s been caught off guard. Her hands frantically pat around her surroundings to find her Walkman, and to her chagrin there’s nothing but cold floor and sweaty smears of blood. She hopes it isn’t hers.

“Hey, hey - new kid, it’s okay. Take some deep breaths.”

Ellie growls and makes a desperate swing from the ground, which the older girl intercepts with poorly hidden amusement. She grabs her wrists and pins them gently to the floor.

“Seriously, calm down. The captain is coming and we’re trying to make a fucking case for why you decked Carol in the face.”

Ellie blinks up at her. The other girl’s brows are furrowed, brown cheeks slightly pinked by the cold. A thick twist of braids falls over her shoulder. Something deep in her spine whispers danger.

“Yeah, okay,” she mutters. “Maybe you can tell them she stole my fuckin Walkman.”

The other girl sits back on her haunches. Her piercing gaze makes Ellie shift uncomfortably. She feels raw and exposed, and just wants to curl up into her shitty twin bed and listen to music and daydream about blood running down Carol’s smug face.

“Sure, that works. It works, doesn’t it?” This she barks to the two girls standing behind her, who both shift uncomfortably.

“Riley, can’t we just leave?” Pleads one of them, a mousy slip of a girl whose eyes have been darting around the room since Ellie’s been conscious enough to notice. The girl - Riley - sneers over at her and then her unnervingly clear brown eyes meet Ellie’s.

“Can’t leave this one to fend for herself, can we?” And Ellie forces herself to maintain her gaze, green eyes meeting brown ones, and something shifts, clicks, changes; and it feels risky, or like something worse, something like getting invested in another person, and Ellie shoves it down, down, down, into the abyss where things like giving a shit went.

She sticks her hand out. “My name’s Ellie.”

Riley smirks, and warm dry fingers clasp hers. “Riley.”

***

Later that day Ellie is hunkered down in her dorm, which is blessedly single, likely due to her track record of getting into fights with whomever they try to room her with. She’s hungry and frustrated and Captain Kwong gave her a bullshit lecture per usual. She wants nothing more than peace and quiet. Predictably, she gets neither.

Rapid knocking interrupts her from her zoned out stupor. She growls at the intruder to leave her the fuck alone, but the banging continues. She gets up, throws the door open, and says what, only to lay her eyes on -

Riley. She’d throw a punch at her too, except her hand is outstretched and in it is -

“My Walkman!” Ellie exclaims, and makes grabby hands to get to her beloved device.

Riley relinquishes it and rolls her eyes, shouldering past Ellie to flop onto her back over her duvet.

“Yeah, you’re welcome. Kwong couldn’t find it on Carol but he assumed she just ditched it somewhere. You’ve got shit music taste by the way.”

Ellie can’t even bring it in herself to care. She slips the headphones over her ears eagerly and tests the tape inside. The familiar strum of guitar is like a balm upon her ears and she sighs.

“I guess you suck less than I thought.”

Riley props herself up on her elbows. “Suck? I rescued your ass!”

“I had it handled!”

“Your lip begs to differ.”

With her words the sting of her split lip returns and she runs her tongue along the break, tasting metal and salt. She shrugs, self-conscious all of a sudden.

She wants to sit, but the idea of being on the bed with the other girl sprawled over it is unquestionably terrifying. Instead she plops down on the ratty little carpet next to the bed and looks up to meet Riley’s gaze, her brow scrunched.

“What’s your deal anyway?”

Ellie shrugs. “Orphan.”

Riley nods sagely, as if that answers every question she could possibly have about her background. “Me too. Well, I am now. I didn’t used to be.”

Ellie’s stomach twinges. “I’ve always been one.”

The older girl studies her, and the twinge grows into an uncomfortable fluttering. She wants to run away but desperately doesn’t want Riley to leave. Having her there is like picking a scab: it feels good even if it makes you hurt worse when it’s over and done with.

“We should be friends, I think.”

Ellie crosses her arm and raises an eyebrow, doing her best impression of bravado that a tween can muster.

“Oh yeah? And why’s that?”

Riley’s eyes crinkle in the corners, her smile beatific. “I think you’re funny, new kid. And seems like you could use someone who sticks around.”

The flutter grows until it’s a swarm, rattling around her insides, a warning call - but she’s desperate for something that stays, even if the phantom pain of loss starts to calcify around the edges of her heart. Doesn’t she deserve a friend, too, tiding her over until the inevitable creep of fungus drawing her back into the ecosystem of the apocalypse?

On her way out, returning to her room, Riley’s calloused knuckles brush against the hairs on her arm. She shivers and lays in bed, the crackly voice of Dave Gahan swarming her head until the wave of sleep, blessedly, takes over.

***

Being friends with Riley, Ellie decides, is what being on a rollercoaster must be like. (She’s always wanted to try one.) She’s loud, boisterous, and half of the girls respect her quietly and the other half rally behind the Carols and Bethanys and do their best to torment her and anyone who falls in her shadow, which now includes Ellie. She doesn’t mind, and honestly prefers it: it’s more fun to get the shit kicked out of you if your friend is grunting in pain nearby. And easier to rip chunks of silky hair out of Bethany’s stupid skull when Riley’s got her pinned down by the wrists. Girlhood in the QZ resembles dogs released out of their cages after being starved and trapped for days on end - there’s no real reason to fight other than feeling something, even if it hurts, even if it leaves your teeth bloody and aching.

That and the only way out of drinking yourself to death after graduating is getting a halfway decent placement, and FEDRA watches silently, eagle eyes separating the strong, the brutal, from the weak. More than that, they look out for the ones defiant enough to keep getting up, keep fighting the power. They’re the ones that need squashing.

Ellie doesn’t want to die, not really. But now that she has Riley, she viciously wants to live.

The other girl is several inches taller than her, further along in her awkward ascension to womanhood. She’s good at sneaking out of the dorms, even if she refuses to let Ellie come half the time, citing her age and boasting of the dangers she’s overcome on the rooftops and in the sewers of Boston. But it’s hard to protest when she always brings her back some kind of trinket: Savage Starlight comics, a charcoal pencil and scraps of paper, a busted up map of some old zoo in New York before the outbreak. In weeks, Ellie’s world has gone from small to bursting at the seams and it feels horrible, it feels like eating a slice of orange for the first time, it feels sticky and hot and like she’ll die if it’s ever taken away.

In two more weeks, Riley’s roommate (a heavily scarred girl named Kayla with a perpetual grimace ripped into her mouth) graduates and gets her assignment. Riley moves into her room the next day. Ellie doesn’t even mind being her shadow, names shifting from new kid to Riley’s little sidekick (or bitch, if you asked Bethany). She feels, tentatively, for the first time in her short miserable life, like she belongs.

***

She realizes she’s different than the other girls slowly, painfully, and then all at once.

The boys train in a different academy. FEDRA can’t afford an unpredictable number of mouths to feed or losing their soldiers to teen pregnancies, and things like birth control or condoms were precious currency on the black market. Nonetheless, when their training regimens would bring them glimpses of the other half of the teenagers in the QZ, the girls would titter and whisper, blushing cheeks getting smacked redder by the sour Captain Billings, aged face pinched with rage. Riley always rolls her eyes and Ellie -

She feels nothing at all.

But her skin erupts in goosebumps when Riley huffs a laugh near her neck. Her face grows hot and embarrassed in the showers after drills, eyes trained determinedly forward on the handle of the hot water until it runs cold and the other girls are long dressed. Despite being short and scrawny, she feels altogether too big for her skin when Riley knocks her boots against hers, the warmth of her thigh pressed along hers on the cafeteria benches. She swoons over the exploits of Dr. Daniela Star and admires the badassery of Mileena from Mortal Kombat. So yeah. Ellie knows there’s something different about her.

She knows the bad words for it, the ones the popular girls spit at her under their breath when Riley can’t hear. And she knows something bigger and worse, because she’s not stupid, and she knows it’s not entirely normal to want to lace your fingers together with your best friend and listen to the gentle thud of her heartbeat.

So she scuffs her toes and keeps her eyes glued to the ground, keeps her arms tight to the side so they don’t brush the warmth of Riley’s skin, always so alive and hot to the touch; she lets her freckles obscure her blushing and her foul mouth obscure the softness rotting away in her throat.

The days are short, never ending, hopeless; but her love feels like it stretches to the horizon, like there’s not enough space for it to ever find its edges. Love is too long, and the months tick away until Riley’s 17th is closer than her 16th.

Ellie listens to Etta James in the quiet, Riley’s breaths regular and reassuring from across the room, and aches.

Riley leaves a few weeks later, and the calcified cage around her heart cracks and she screams and screams and screams but no words come out.

***

When Riley’s gone, Ellie can’t seem to stop remembering.

She started drawing early. Even before coming to the FEDRA military school she would scratch designs into anything with anything: rough sketches of what she imagined her mother to look like, the rats she used to practice shooting at with a BB gun, the constellations she could pick out in the sky above Boston. Riley loved her art, begged and wheedled to be allowed to see her sketches. She used to flop across Ellie’s bed after rounds and loudly whisper about her drawings getting put into a museum, how in the old world hundreds of people would come visit her exhibits. She said her parents used to tell her about warm summer afternoons in the heart of downtown Atlanta before the outbreak, where families would stroll from gallery to sandwich shop to theater on monthly art walks. How there’d be sweet creamy frozen treats and hot fried meat, how people would laugh, loud and unabashed, the threat of clickers haunting only fanciful nightmares and horror movies.

When Riley leaves, Ellie scribbles over the portraits she had hastily drawn and hidden of the other girl’s eyes, dimples, full mouth; the shaky lines of all her girlish hopes and awe. She wants to die. Riley will come back.

She wants to live.

***

“Shut up!”

“No! You fucking shut up!”

Riley leans back, cackling. “You look so fucking stupid with pigtail braids.”

Ellie huffs, nervous fingers already coming to the elastic to shake out the plaits that Riley had put there.

“It was a dumb idea.”

“Hey, you’re the one who complains about your hair all the time, getting in your eyes and shit.”

“Guess I’ll have to suffer,” she mutters, cheeks burning. She scrambled to put it up in a messy thick ponytail, pushes the curly bits that fall out behind her ears. One day she’ll cut it. Something cool, like the smoky eyed, androgynous models that she’s seen on the contraband skin mags that some of the older girls smuggled in.

Maybe then Riley won’t see her like the 13 year old she rescued, and more like the 14 (going on 15!) year old she’s become. Old enough to sneak out, to confide in, to trust with her life.

She picks at her fingernails, and misses the way Riley’s eyes follow her, the twinge of worry in them. The fear that maybe the teasing had really gotten to the soft girlish quick of her, left tooth marks on her heart.

Riley’s pinkie brushes hers. “I like your hair the way it is, you know.”

They sit in companionable silence, after that, backs pressed to the wall and listening to the creaks of the cicadas outside. Summer air wafts in through the crack in the window, something sweet and right in the way it brushes against their cheeks. Tender.

Ellie hates remembering.

***

On the last night they have together, the last night Ellie has as a whole person, as a person whose lungs remember how to breathe without gasping, Ellie thinks, I love you.

The words fill up her chest like one of those hot air balloons Riley’s told her about that she doesn’t quite believe ever existed - they fill her up like hot wet air, like rock music, like the trickle of water from a forest stream in spring when the ice melts and blooms creep out of winter - her love no longer haunts her but hums along her skin, released.

She thinks, when they’re bitten, you’re the only thing worth dying for, and presses her chapped mouth to the sweaty divot of skin where Riley’s jaw meets her neck, and cries, and cries, and lets her salty tears leak down to meet the tendrils of fungus angrily festering around the drooling wounds, unable to creep into her bloodstream.

She thinks, when Riley’s eyes darken and film over, when the bits of her that made her Riley get greedily eaten up, take me with you.

But her eyes stay green, and the flash of silver is quick, and her hands aren’t even bloodied. Her fingers buried in her hair, her arms pressed against cool skin, all the touch she never had and now all she gets is a ghost.

And when a woman who calls herself Marlene comes and pries her off, who chains her hands together, and shakes her head, almost disbelieving, and remarks that she’s alive, Ellie can’t stop shaking her head.

The glowing alive part of her is gone, and yet her love still stretches up and around and over the horizon, searching for the edges.

***

fin.

[feralthembo]

so im going to include a diverse array of anime guys so this may take multiple reblogs:

you mentioned twinks so im gonna start with my wettest sappiest guys.

first on the roster? my beloved Izuru, Pre-cyborg status because i love this picture so much. look at how fuckin skinny he is i just wanna toss him over my shoulder and throw him into bed

keeping on the theme of "blonde guys who died and were brought back to be meat weapons" we have Deidara, the pic i chose is because the mouth hands are important to understanding my choice here. ART IS A BANG!!! Be Gay Commit Arson!!!

keeping in the fandom with this next one, I'm pulling up Deidara's partner, Sasori. Guy is a puppet who turns people into puppets because fuck you thats why. art is eternal, art endures, art isnt a fucking explosion deidara...

AND NOW BACK TO BLEACH!!!! disaster science twink, Szayelaporro Granz! this guy deepthroats his sword on screen mind you, so thats the kind of fucked up he is. he vores his subordinates to heal himself. the only way he gets defeated is by getting out fucked-up-science-guy'd by someone whos probably gonna make this list once i get to "men i want to hit me or cut me open" but yeah! science twink!

honorable mention for his little brother, Yylfordt, who gets choked out by a superpowered little girl which angers him so much he turns into a bull

Ok so im putting this in after id gone past it because i forgot about the science twink of Durarara!! Shinra Kishitani. this guy is really good at being really smart AND really stupid. but its ok because hes got a hot fairy wife who hits him <3 this guy sells cheap but effective titty skittles 100%

now im gonna transition from this category to another by way of Izaya Orihara. general nuisance. most commonly shipped with a guy who wont be too much further down on the list who he tries to get to kill him multiple times a day. i hope they kill each other while they fuck kinda thing. has a sister whos really into him iykwim. generally seen being a dick or getting the shit kicked out of him, usually both.

AND THIS BRINGS US TO THE CATBOYS WHO I WILL LEAD OFFICIALLY WITH T H E CATBOY.

GRIMMJOW JEAGERJAQUEZ

this is THE angsty catboy. he kills, he maims, he pisses on the carpet, he eliminates whole species of birds for fun and if you keep him inside he SCREAMS AT THE TOP OF HIS LUNGS HOW DARE YOU FATHER YOU CAGE GRIMMY LIKE THE CIRCUS ANIMAL????? JAIL FOR TEN THOUSAND YEARS FATHER!!!!!!!

you know what fuck it this is as good a place as any to drop Shizuo, he IS a catboy after all. He has super strength because hes angry. theres a proper in universe explanation but brain isnt there rn brain is at boys avenue. So he dresses in barkeep getup because his brother gave it to him. his brother is his person, though hes close with a couple others. throws vending machines at izaya in canon. this is quite literally how they introduce him. transgender autistic cluster B king SHIZUO HEIWAJIMA (please pardon his hatred of milk)

i cant recall that many catboys actually so next category: miscellaneous fucked up science guys!! starting with the guy who fucked up the pink haired guy from before! Mayuri Kurotsuchi! this guy is war crimes mcgee. he commits atrocities not even for breakfast but a light snack or beverage. my gender is his six inch coke nail? his bankai is a fucking baby and it gets more fucked up each time it shows up. made his child in a lab and is real weird about it. was literally in jail for science crimes at one point.

The guy who let that fucker out of science jail was Kisuke Urahara. my professional nerd opinion is that nobody hates kisuke correctly. YES he masks his fucked up science guy shit with dopey stoner vibes, but those vibes arent fake. hes just a dopey stoner who is also a fucked up science guy. and he is fucked up! he bimboifies everyones favorite catgirl in canon bc it made her stronger! he controls the protagonists party putting them all in serious danger without giving them enough information CONSTANTLY. but also hes my babygirl and i love him. scrungly.

Another guy who kisuke let out of jail was Akon! im actually writing a fic with him in it rn!!! He was just a kid when kisuke let him out and its never really mentioned how he got in there. he keeps a straight face for everyone BUT mayuri and kisuke who piss him off existentially. Hes not just a hero, hes a union man. this is the guy soul reapers go to to get any gender affirming care. he could and would build you a cock trident. basement gremlin energy

I forgot to add him up with the other science twinks but this works because hes an old man in a fresh body? Toto Sakigami. im not talking about him too much because this genderfucked little weirdo explains himself in like .5 seconds on google and i could never do it justice

and ill use this to transition into "please kill me" territory: Senji Kiyomasa! Deadman Crow! literally the only downside is he used to be a cop. hes got the beef, he got no brains, hes flustered REAL easy. its just too good. this man is shaped and sounds like a daddy but would crumble if you so much as showed him a nipple. cinnamon roll that got torched by systematic injustice that he participated in

now my FAVORITE deadman wonderland character? Azuma Genkaku. the UBERMONK. hes gonna help that soul transcend its flesh prison, man. maximum gender, he is the epitome of apeshit. peak fucked up little guy. I am chewing him chewing him chewing him chewing him chewing hi

Kenpachi Zaraki. Dilf extroardinaire who could kill me with his vibes. i dont just want to fuck this old man, i NEED to fuck this old man. he straight up rips someones throat out because they were talking too much. yeah there are more reasons hes here but thats about it

im losing focus but i have like 3 more genres of Guys to rummage thru at some point

the cute anime girls on my tumblr dash would not want me to commit unalive to escape the agonies the cute anime girls on my tumblr dash would not want me to commit unalive to escape the agonies the cute anime girls on my tumblr dash would not want me to commit unalive to escape the agonies the cute anime girls on my tumblr dash would not want me to commit unalive to escape the agonies the cute anime girls on my tumblr dash would not want me to commit unalive to escape the agonies

[from-a-reckless-writer]

ii. secret.

read on ao3

Lena Luthor dies a villain.

Her death took out half the population in the vicinity. A blinding white light piercing through the National City skyline. A deafening boom heard 5 cities over. An explosion so great, even Supergirl was knocked dead.

And so, Lena Luthor dies a villain.

Alone and young. And so, so bitter. An accomplice and ally to Lex Luthor.

Some would even say she was a greater, far more cunning, far more terrifying force than Lex.

There were rumors that the woman had magic at the end of it all. That no one person could be capable of that much destruction without the help of something inhuman.

But well, rumors were all it can be, especially when all possible witnesses perished along with the Luthors.

******

Weeks later, Andrea Rojas holds a memorial event for Lena Luthor; protesters burn the venue to the ground.

Months later, Supergirl returns to the world. More radiant than ever. More alive than ever. Stronger. Better.

Years later, National City recovers fully from the whole catastrophe.

Supergirl is reported to most frequently be seen in the memorial square for the fallen victims. A dozen paparazzi pictures of the caped heroine quietly walking, sometimes whispering under breath.

Praying, somebody on a CatCo article comments. She’s always praying whenever we see her there.

****** The closet doors burst open and out steps Alex Danvers.

A colorful stream of expletives coming right along with her, “Fuckin’ fur coats, goddamn hangers, fucking hitting me in the face—”

“Took you long enough,” a familiar voice greets her, “where the hell have you been? And why are you so...dirty? If you track mud on my carpet I swear to God, Alex—”

“I was cleaning your grave, okay?” she snaps, setting down a bucket filled with various cleaning supplies, that Lena’s just now noticing, on said carpet.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Alex huffs about, crossing her arms, “You don’t have to make a big deal about it. I don’t want to do it again, it’s a bitch for my back pain. I was just pissed about the graffiti. You’d think people would have better manners than defacing the grave of a dead woman. If only they—”

“Thank you, Alex,” she cuts her off, a shy smile gracing her face. She really doesn’t want to hear about the rest of it. And if Alex doesn’t want to make a big deal out of it, then no big deal shall be made.

“There’s coffee in the kitchen,” she says then, and Alex just nods, grabs her bucket of supplies again and turns to leave.

Although not before saying, “Remind me again why you let Kara win? With the portal?”

Lena just shrugs, dark hair escaping out of her messy bun at the movement.

“She said she’s always wanted to go to Narnia.”

Alex shakes her head, rolls her eyes, “Whipped.”

And well, that sounds about right.

******

There’s a documentary on Netflix about the Luthors. Lena’s face in black and white, on the preview banner, a big red X drawn over it.

Kara snaps the remote in half.

Lena reaches over the blanket, grabs her hand, flicks the TV off with only a swish of her fingers and a glitter of sparks.

“C’mere,” she says, tugging gently, till she has a lapful of Krytonian draped over her. Lena traces her fingers over the crinkle between Kara’s brow, smooths them out, thumb dragging across lips till it pulls to a soft smile.

“We know the truth,” she tells her, “and that’s enough.”

“It’s not fair.”

Nothing ever is.

******

“How’re the kids?” She asks, one hand whisking eggs, the other holding the bowl steady.

“Oh, you know, asking me a thousand silly questions a day. Driving Alex crazy. Never letting me sleep. They’re perfect, really,” Kelly says, and Lena hums in response. Before she catches Kelly popping a blueberry in her mouth, a crime punishable by Lena Luthor’s death stare.

“Those are for the muffins.” A foam covered whisk points dangerously to Kelly’s chest.

She raises both arms in surrender, palms opening, dropping the remaining three blueberries onto the counter.

“You know, I’ve seen you do it a thousand times, yet it still doesn’t fail to surprise me.”

Lena concludes she’s talking about the baking tray hovering in the air, a feet away from them, greasing itself. Or maybe it’s the soup at the stove with a ladle stirring itself.

“What can I say,” Lena quips, smirking, “I’m magical like that.”

******

Andrea finds her on a Tuesday.

One minute Lena is reading quietly on her front porch, the next, there is an explosion of sound in her living room. She throws open her door, magical energy sizzling at her fingertips.

The sight that greets her stops her in her tracks. Acrata pinning Supergirl down, their coffee table destroyed. She sighs internally, she loved that coffee table. It was a wedding gift from Nia and Brainy.

“I knew it,” Andrea whispers, her grip slackens around the hero's throat. She stands up slowly, as if afraid that if she moved too fast Lena would disappear. She leaves Supergirl gasping on the floor; materializes in front of Lena in a cloud of black smoke.

“I knew it. I knew it. I knew it.” She sobs into Lena’s blouse, arms wrapped tightly around her. Lena embraces her on instinct, her eyes closing briefly, before opening up again to check on Kara dusting herself off.

“Andrea,” Lena croaks, “you can’t tell anyone.”

You can’t tell anyone I’m alive. You can’t tell anyone how I tricked Lex, how I saved Supergirl, how I saved National City.

“Nobody will know,” Andrea promises her.

******

There is a cottage by the woods that nobody else sees, where every Sunday a blonde woman rips apart pieces of wood with her bare hands, where a pale woman with even paler hands grows crops from the barren earth within seconds, where the closet hides cities instead of clothes, where a dead woman and a hero spend their lives in bliss.

******

It has been ten years, her hair is more gray than blonde now, her skin more wrinkled than smooth, her hearing though? Her hearing is still better than ever. And it has been ten years since she’s heard that tell-tale whoosh of a cape, it’s been a decade and still, the sound brings her the same thrill, the same adrenaline.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Supergirl? Or should I say, Superwoman, now?”

And oh-

She did not come alone.

Lena Luthor is set gently down on the balcony.

If Cat Grant wasn’t Cat Grant, she’s sure she would’ve already suffered a heart attack from the mere sight of a woman long dead standing breathing and alive in her home. She would’ve shrieked and demanded answers.

“I need a favor,” Kara tells her, stalking closer, hand on her hip. Cat would’ve laughed at that if this were some other time. No need to play the intimidating game with me, Kiera, she would’ve said.

“What is it?”

“I need you to break a story,” she tells her. “You, Cat. I want you, and nobody else to cover this.”

Cat raises her brow at that, she already has an inkling as to what the story might be about.

“A story hmm? This better be good, if I’m to come out of retirement for it.”

This time it’s Lena Luthor who speaks. Cat has been dying to hear what she has to say.

“It’ll be good," she promises her, "It’ll be better than good."

Kara crowds closer to Lena, then; wraps a protective arm on her waist. Cat watches frozen as Lena's index finger lights in flame. What a sight they make.

"You’ll be telling the entire world the last Luthor’s secret.”

[elvisabutler]

so, i'm not getting anything out tonight. consider it halloween exhaustion or what have you (the what have you is my time of the month.). keeping that in mind, i shall offer some halloween treats as i have multiple things that have at least bits and pieces written. so below the cut i offer several snippets of various fics ranging from multiple kinktober blurbs, the vampire elvis au, and the austin mermaid au i have been trying to finish.

vampire austin elvis/elvis:

The man in front of you looks like he hasn't aged a day since about 1974. Your parents had pictures of him plastered among the walls of your childhood home so you're familiar with the shape of his jaw, his nose and those eyes- those stunning blue eyes. The ones you're looking at are just as stunning but you can see a hint of what looks like red in the pupil. It confuses you enough to have you moving closer to him to investigate. He raises an eyebrow and tilts his head.

"That's new. Most of you just hide away like scared cats." He huffs, allowing you to step closer and peer at his eyes.

"Do I seem like post people, Elvis?" You ask as your hand against your will found its way to his mask covered cheek in an effort to pull him closer, only to have him practically snarl at you and grab your wrist.

housewife kink, austin

You were never made to be a housewife, you've told Austin this on more than one occasion. Even when you first met him and were first talking to him, you told him that despite how perhaps you looked it, all warm and inviting, it wasn't your style. Life had a weird way of changing that sort of thing. and "I can just flip up that skirt while you're dusting, baby. Promise I won't make you smudge the nice clean window with your body."

edging, olivia dejonge

Olivia Dejonge is a monster. You've learned this in dating the woman for over a year, sneaking in and out of her dressing trailer, knowing fully well that yes, Covid protocols dictated that you weren't allowed. You've learned this with her head between your legs, her tongue on your most sensitive parts, licking and making a mess of her makeup in ways that have every single makeup artist is on her team practically cursing your name. You can't help it when you end up coming all over her face every every single time. Crying as she wrenches a second, a third and on one memorable occasion, a fourth orgasm out of you in just an hour's time.

throat fucking, austin elvis. guess which time frame lol.

"Little boys wouldn't know what to do with ya. Wouldn't treat ya like I do. Wouldn't have you coming nearly as hard as ya do with me." You're at eye level with his cock and you swear you haven't ever actually seen it this hard the entire time you two have known each other. "I'm gonna make sure you can't fuckin talk to them for a week. Gonna wreck your throat so that all you can do is nod for yes daddy. Bet you're gonna come right now. Bet if I touched you right this second you'd make a mess of my fuckin carpet."

sex tape, austin x priscilla actress.

He's seen what leaked sexual things can do to a person he loves and while you make him selfish and make him want to throw every rule he might have about relationships and his limits out the window, he would die rather than to cause you harm- intentional or otherwise.

His body is like a big cat or a crocodile slinking over to your with intent in his eyes and his cock surprisingly already ready for the occasion. You eye him under lidded eyes, your hands moving down to play with your lace covered breasts. Austin's lips curl into a smile.

"Already getting started without me?" He chuckles, climbing on top of you, his hand moving to cover your own.

merman austin:

"What are you laughing about? Because, babe, I don't see any reason you should be. We've got you in a net and you're completely at our mercy." Her hands motion to his whole body and Austin knows she has a point.

It takes several minutes for Austin's brain to catch up to what Olivia is saying but when he does, when his brain helpfully supplies multiple other scenarios where he is at your mercy- at the mercy of both of you- he has to bite his lower lip to keep from groaning. Oh this is truly a disaster. He knows there's a chance his lower half is showing his reaction but he prays to Poseidon it isn't. His eyes are shut for several minutes as he tries to calm himself down and as he hears Olivia barking orders to your crewmates, her crew that she controls with what sounds like an iron fist. When he finally opens his eyes, he's greeted by Olivia's blue ones- ones that look like the sea that you two just yanked him out of- staring at him through the net almost sizing him up.

professor elvis ( it's totally big daddy but like you can read it as an austin big daddy, i won't judge when ya see it )

He leans behind you, his mouth brushing your ear and you can feel his breath against your neck as his hand on your knee moves ever so slowly higher. "You think acting like a Jezebel in front of me is gonna get you what you want, don't ya? You really do just wanna play with boys for the rest of your life, don't ya?"

[sickness-health-all-that-shit]

Handmade

(originally written as part of this prompt challenge)

“Hey. Here’s your fuckin’ present thing. Happy birthday.”

Mickey’s not meeting Ian’s eyes. He’s looking at the floor of their living room and biting his lip nervously as his outstretched hand holds a colorful card with all sorts of drawings on it.

Ian takes the card from him, a smile starting to form on his lips, though he’s frowning a bit at Mickey’s demeanor.

“But you already got me that set of beautiful cooking knives you gave me this morning. You got me something else?”

“Yeah, I just knew you really wanted ‘em. This is… more personal or whatever.”

Mickey’s still not making eye contact as he speaks, seemingly very interested in their carpet today, considering how long he’s been staring at it.

Ian takes his eyes off his puzzling husband to examine the card. It’s got Happy Birthday Ian written on it in big lettering, and all around are various little drawings, mostly sketches of Ian’s face – and other body parts – skulls, red hearts, balloons that say “happy fucking birthday”, handcuffs, stargazer lillies and other colorful flowers.

Ian feels like he could cry. It’s absolutely fucking beautiful, and so Mickey.

“Mickey…”

“My main present is still the fuckin’ knives, this is just some shitty-ass thing I drew that you can just throw in the trash if you want. It’s whatever.”

“Like hell I fucking will.”

At that, Mickey finally raises his eyes.

“Mickey, this is perfect. I love it, it’s the best fucking present I’ve ever gotten. Thank you.” And with that Ian grabs hold of Mickey’s arm and pulls until Mickey’s straddling Ian’s lap on the couch, chuckling.

Ian hugs him tight, until Mickey stops laughing and gets serious again. “You really like it?” he whispers in Ian’s hair.

Ian pulls back and gives him a sweet kiss on the lips, cradling his cheek. “Of course I like it. I always love your drawings. And you’re right, this is a more personal gift. I love that you got me the knives because you knew I really wanted them, but this…” He gestures to the card. “Handmade presents are always the best.”

Mickey smiles softly. “You corny motherfucker.”

“Oh, I’m a corny motherfucker? I’m not the one who just handed a thoughtful, handmade gift to his husband for his birthday!”

Mickey raises an eyebrow. “Oh yeah, tough guy? I got something else to give you for your birthday.”

Ian gets barely a moment to think Mickey might be flirting with him before he gets assaulted by Mickey’s tickling hands all over the most sensitive parts of his body. Ian starts giggling uncontrollably and begging Mickey to stop, but Mickey continues, relentless.

“You gonna stop callin’ me corny, huh, bitch?” Mickey has the brightest smile on his face, laughing as he keeps torturing Ian with his hands.

“Yes! Yes, okay! I won’t call you corny anymore, I swear!”

Mickey looks at him suspiciously, but stops. Ian sits back on the couch and catches his breath.

“You are pretty damn romantic, though. You gotta admit that at least,” he says, stroking Mickey’s side, smiling dreamily at him.

“Shut up, you fuckin’ dork.” Mickey reaches out and cards a hand through Ian’s hair. “You’re probably gonna keep that shit with all the other stuff I gave you that you think is romantic, huh?”

Ian grins big at his husband. “You can bet your ass I will.”

---

thanks to @shameless-notashamed for reading this over!

[skiller0dani]

NSFW Alphabet | JJ Maybank

M A S T E R L I S T Outer Banks Masterlist

smut requests info

hope you enjoy, love you all. 

AFTERCARE (what he’s like after sex)

so JJ is used to random hook ups and aftercare wasn’t always something he did

he did if he was in the mood 

most of the time hook ups were a way to release pent up frustration 

and when he’s mad he doesn’t do aftercare

until he started dating you

now he goes a little over the top with aftercare

he massages you with lotion afterwards

gets you water and snacks if you want them

hot water bottle if you’re sore

sometimes draws you a bath

boy really loves you & wants to take care of you 

BODY PART (his favorite body part of his & yours)

JJ loves every single inch of your body

but deep down he’s an ass man

loves to see the round curve of your ass in those tight jeans you wear

and your bikini? 

lets just say JJ has a lot of unwanted boners whenever you’re in a swimsuit

which is often during the summer

you can always count on JJ to pin you against the wall and grab a handful of that perfect ass of yours at least once a day

CUM (anything to do with cum, basically)

JJ thinks your cum tastes good

which is kind of embarrassing when he talks about it too much

sometimes he talks about your cum just to see you get all bashful about it with rosy cheeks

funnily enough JJ thinks his cum is kinda gross though

“ew it got on me!” 

“that’s your cum JJ!” 

he usually cleans it off your right away though

he doesn’t want it to get tacky on your skin

which grosses him out more

DIRTY SECRET (a dirty secret of his)

JJ, for some reason, is embarrassed about the fact that he tends to be a little gentler in bed then people expect

it’s an inside joke among the pogues that JJ is a rough lover

which you discovered is not really true

he can be rough, but normally he isn’t

he’s rough when he gets possessive

like when Rafe and his little group flirt with you to piss JJ off 

you can bet that night JJ will be pounding into you so hard you won’t be able to walk for a few days

JJ can also get rough if he’s angry 

if someone pisses JJ off for any reason you can count on getting thrown around a little

but he doesn’t throw you around too much, he would never hurt you

it’s all consensual though, JJ would never do that if he knew you didn’t want him to

EXPERIENCE (how experienced is he? does he know what he’s doing?)

JJ, much to your dismay, is very experienced while you were very inexperienced

by the time you two had sex the first time he had already been with 4 girls before you

JJ had to teach you everything about sex

he was very sexually ambiguous for a 17 year old 

JJ has never been ashamed of his sexual past, but when he started dating you he did feel a little guilty when he saw how much it bothered you

it only bothered you so much because you were a virgin before JJ

you’ve never been with anybody before JJ, and he’s had a lot of sexual partners 

and you would be lying if you said it didn’t bother you

because it does

a lot 

that’s why JJ doesn’t really bring it up

FAVORITE POSITION (this goes without saying tbh)

any position he gets to fuck you is his favorite position

JJ always says “there’s way too many to pick just one!”  

a personal favorite of yours is when you get to ride him

JJ is always takes the lead when it comes to sex 

so he’s always watching you come undone

and when you ride him you get to see him come undone

and boy is it a beautiful sight

head tossed back against the bed

eyes squeezed shut

little whimpers escaping his clenched teeth

his hands holding your hips tightly to still control the pace

even when you top, JJ needs to be in control somehow

you can’t help but whine whenever you see his bottom lip pulled between his teeth

it truly is an honor to watch JJ cum

GOOFY (is he more serious in the moment? more humorous? etc)

he is both evenly 

most of the time, JJ is goofy 

he hardly even takes day to day life seriously

so most of the time JJ is cracking jokes and trying to make you laugh

and he spends a decent amount of time trying to make you blush

but when JJ gets upset he’s an entirely different person in the bedroom

his jaw is always locked, and his gaze is dark and lustful 

he doesn’t crack any jokes, and doesn’t goof around

if someone made a move on you then JJ is usually pretty pissed off during sex

sometimes he’s gotta remind you who you belong to

HAIR (how well groomed is he? does the carpet match the drapes?)

trimmed a little but honestly JJ isn’t too concerned about it

you don’t care if he upkeeps his pubes or not so neither does he

he does if the bush gets to crazy but other than that he leaves it alone

they’re a shade darker then his hair

so like a dark dark blonde

INTIMACY (how is he during the moment? is he romantic?)

unless he’s angry, JJ is very intimate during sex

before JJ started dating you, he had sex just to get off

he had sex with girls because it felt good

there was no closeness in it, no intimacy

but with you sex is very intimate

it’s never about just getting off

every time he has sex with you 

even when he’s angry and pounding into you 

he’s showing you how much he loves you in the only way he knows best

while it’s true that JJ had a lot of sexual partners before you, none of them really showed JJ what sex could be like

that it could be so fucking good 

because with them it felt good, but nowhere near as good as it feels to have sex with someone you love

JACK OFF (masturbation headcanon)

JJ jacks off a lot more then he used to

because when you’re not in the mood, or if you’re busy then he has to find some way to relieve himself

before you JJ would hit up every one of his booty calls until one of them agreed to come over

but he would never cheat on you so if you turn down sex, JJ waits 

and while he waits he jerks off to satiate him until you’re ready

and he never rushes you because he’s not an asshole

he waits patiently because this sweet boy loves you very much

KINK (one or more of his kinks)

he hasn’t outwardly admitted it but you think JJ has a secret daddy kink

he loves when you do exactly what he says

he loves being in total control

he loves the trust that comes with it, when you physically show him that you trust him enough to do whatever he says without question

it’s comforting to know you trust him not to hurt you

he calls you little girl during sex a lot

which you love

“gonna cum for me little girl?” 

“yes daddy please,” 

it accidentally slipped out. really you didn’t mean to say it

but as soon as you did, JJ groaned softly

and his pace quickened a little

you could tell that he liked that

so you decided to “accidentally” say it more often

LOCATION (favorite places to do the deed)

JJ is a borderline exhibitionist 

he likes the thrill of almost getting caught

but most of the places he chooses to rail you are places that couldn’t be come across accidentally 

JJ can’t bring himself to risk someone else seeing you naked

or worse 

getting fucked

if some other guy saw that beautiful fucked out look on your face when JJ’s driving his cock into you

he’d probably beat the guy to death

so JJ gets his “fucking in public” fix in restrooms or other places with lockable doors

he’d never fuck you out in the open

MOTIVATION (what turns him on?)

e v e r y t h i n g

JJ is horny 92% of the day so anything you do is bound to turn him on

bending over? JJ is popping a boner

your shirt lifts to reveal your midriff? JJ is 100% popping a boner

stripping down to your bikini to get in the water? he’s rock solid before you even get your shorts off

and then he’s looking around to make sure nobody else is watching you strip

there was one time he caught Pope looking when you were getting ready to get in the water and JJ might have punched him

he pulled the punch though, so it didn’t even really leave a bruise

it hurt enough for Pope to never make that mistake again

he literally closes his eyes until he hears you get into the water now, Pope won’t even risk glancing in your direction 

he’s afraid of receiving JJ’s wrath if he’s caught looking again

NO (something he wouldn’t do, his turn offs)

anything that would cause you a lot of pain

he’s comfortable with inflicting you with a little bit of pain like spanking

but anything worse than that and JJ is out

once as a joke you asked JJ if you guys could try ‘blood play’ and JJ freaked out

“I would have to cut you Y/N, no fuckin’ way.” 

“I was just kidding baby.” 

JJ would prefer to make sex exciting in other ways

ways that can’t hurt you

like blindfolding you

using ice or feathers as stimulation

g e n t l e choking 

very gentle

JJ can’t hurt you, he physically won’t feel any joy from it

his dad has hurt him so much that JJ doesn’t like hurting anybody that doesn’t really deserve it

like Rafe, he definitely deserves it

ORAL (preference on giving or receiving, skill, etc)

JJ hates being that stereotypical guy but he really loves when you give him a blow job

you’re just so fucking good at it

when you wrap your lips around him, it literally takes his breath away

when you use your tongue on the underside, JJ feels his insides begin to squirm around

plus he doesn’t mind receiving more than giving too much because he knows how much you love sucking him off

sometimes you beg him to let you suck him off

and of course, JJ always says yes

you’re fucking hungry for his cock, and if you had it your way it would always be in your mouth

but just because JJ likes receiving more than giving doesn’t mean he doesn’t know how to go down on you

because JJ is phenomenal at eating you out

some of the most mind blowing orgasms you’ve ever had have been with JJ’s head in between your legs

boy knows what he’s doing in that regard, he just doesn’t do it very often

which doesn’t bother you because he will happily do it if you ask him to

PACE (is he fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc)

depends on his mood, like all things

if he’s in a good mood, his pace is pretty moderate

not too fast but not too slow

if he’s in a really lovey dovey mood then his pace is slow and passionate

long and deep strokes to make sure you feel every inch

if he’s pissed off or jealous then his pace is quick and brutal

harsh snaps of his hips against yours and definite bruises on your hips from him holding you so hard

he always feels bad about the bruises

but you always reassure him and insist you love the bruises

which you do

QUICKIE (his opinions on quickies, how often, etc)

quickies are a pretty normal thing for you two

it’s quickies more often then anything else

a quick fuck in the Chateau’s bathroom before any of the pogues notice you’re gone

quickies in your room when you sneak away from the party because JJ took off his shirt and you decided you desperately needed his cock

it’s rare that you two get to take your time 

but when you can take your time, its some of the best sex you guys have

like it’s so good that it’s worth waiting for

but you’re not complaining too much because any sex you have with JJ is going to be amazing

RISK (is he okay with experimenting? does he take risks?)

yeah he’s okay with moderate risk

if it’s something that could get you in serious trouble then he absolutely won’t do it

if it puts you in a situation 

if it’s something that could hurt you or cause you pain then no he won’t risk it

he cares about your needs and your safety way more than his own

JJ doesn’t care if he gets in trouble and he doesn’t care if he gets hurt

his pain tolerance is really high so he almost never notices if he gets hurt during sex

like if you claw at his back too much and he’s bleeding

actually he loves it when you claw at him, and he loves it even more if you make him bleed

you usually end up looking out for him in the same way he looks out for you

you won’t let him do anything that could end up hurting him

STAMINA (how many rounds can he go for? how long does he last?)

JJ can go for 2-3 rounds before his dick physically will not get hard again

if he had it his way he’d fuck you all night, but he can’t 

which annoys him

boy can fuck you at Earth shattering speeds and hardly break a sweat

he’s got the energy of a hyperactive child when it comes to sex

sadistically that’s one of your favorite things about JJ, that he can fuck you for long periods of time without tiring

it makes sex exciting

TOYS (does he own toys? how much does he use them? on you or him?)

JJ definitely doesn’t own any toys but you do

and when he discovered this, he immediately brought it into your sex life

he loves watching you cum on a vibrator

he has a remote control one that he uses a lot so he can sit at the end of the bed and watch you cum without even touching you

he also got a small one that you sometimes use when other people are around

and JJ will randomly turn it on when you’re having dinner at Kiara’s 

and you can’t make any sound or act weird 

you always see that little smirk on JJ’s face from across the table when he sees you’re close

and he never lets you cum

UNFAIR (how much he likes to tease)

big tease energy

there was one night he was so frustrated that he teased you to tears 

he edged you so much that one thrust and you were cumming around his cock

he’s a tease in day to day life and in the bedroom go figures

but when JJ is trying to show you how much he loves you he never teases

he worships your body and will give you orgasm after orgasm until you’re a shuddering mess

VOLUME (how loud is he? what kinds of sounds he makes, etc)

JJ mostly just groans and swears under his breath

he says he doesn’t want to drown out all of your beautiful sounds with his own moaning

but your favorite is when JJ growls softly in your ear, or when he sucks a harsh breath in through his teeth when you clench around him

you’re the noisy one in bed 

and that’s the way JJ likes it

WILD CARD (random headcanon)

when you first started dating, JJ was actually really evasive about how many partners he’s had before you

he would get really quiet whenever you asked him and would never directly answer the question

until you cornered him in the Chateau, demanding to know how many people he’d been with 

“4...” his voice was soft, and he wouldn’t lift his eyes to meet yours

that was more then you were expecting, but you couldn’t be mad at him

he was single then and had completely cut off every girl he’d ever had sex with the second you two started dating

so you immediately forgave him which was a huge relief for him

X-RAY (let’s see what’s going on under the belt)

JJ is packing

a good 8 inches when he’s fully hard 

and he’s decently thick too

his cock reaches places inside you that make your toes curl 

JJ has never really described himself as someone with a big dick, but once he saw your eyes widen when he first had sex with you

he thought maybe he might be bigger than average

which you love

there’s always a delicious stretch when he first enters you

YEARNING (how high is his sex drive?)

JJ is down to have sex whenever 

he loves having sex with you and has a stupidly high sex drive

he needs sex at least twice a week or he’s going to be grumpy 

so it was sort of an adjustment when he first started dating you

because it was at least a month until he took your virginity

so he was pretty grouchy for that month that he wasn’t having sex

he didn’t mind though because he was dating you and that’s way better than sex

ZZZ (how quickly does he fall asleep afterwards?)

JJ doesn’t fall asleep too quickly after sex

but since he does most of the work during sex, he’s usually pretty tired

but when he lays down with you, he will spend a few minutes talking to you before he falls asleep

he can last a good 10-15 minutes before he’s too tired to keep his eyes open

so you curl into his chest and fall asleep in his arms

heaven :)

[uvobreakmylegs]

Retrieval

I just wanted to write some gross shit sorry

Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, death, graphic imagery, gore, blood, degradation, threats of violence

A trio of very intoxicated men stumbled out of the front door of the bar followed by you. You held the door open for a second as you called out to the men to have a good night and to come back soon, but before you could give any of them a chance to respond you had shut the door and locked it, the bell on the door jingling above you. Maybe you weren't being too subtle about wanting them to leave already so you and your coworker could clean up the place, but at the moment you couldn't say you cared too much. It was after midnight and you wanted to go home.

Your coworker, Corey, chuckled at you from the entryway to the kitchen.

“Not very professional of you.”

“Because people like that are coming to a sports bar for professionalism and not to get drunk off of their asses,” you answered, grabbing a bucket and rag to begin with wiping down the tables.

“It's on you if they call back to complain,” he teased.

You laughed.

“Like any of them will be able to remember when they wake up tomorrow.”

“Guess you got a point there.”

You hummed in agreement, wiping down the wooden seats of the chairs before glancing back to him; Corey was still standing in the doorway, checking something on his phone.

“Are you going to clean up back there or are you expecting me to do it for you?” you teased him.

Corey held up his hands in mock surrender before he disappeared back to the kitchen.

The small sports bar you worked at always got pretty messy, both inside the kitchen and out. Food crumbs, wet stains from spilled drinks and small things like loose change, wads of gum and people's small personal items littered the dark carpeted floor. The tables and chairs were usually in a similar state in terms of the food and drink residue. At least you had never needed to clean the bathrooms.

Moving from table to table, you would wipe the surfaces clean, letting the mess on top fall to the floor before you set the chairs upside down on top of the table. Whatever had ended up on the floor you'd get with the vacuum later. It was time consuming and monotonous, but there was a weird part of you that got a certain satisfaction of being able to return the dining area back to a clean state, even if it would be all ruined by the next evening.

Even if it was stupid, at least you actually had the freedom to do what you liked no matter how stupid it was.

Corey was playing something on his phone in the kitchen; knowing him, it was probably some new podcast he had gotten into. The noise you could hear from the back was drowned out when you turned on the vacuum cleaner, trying in vain to clean up everything on the floor. You really wished the owners would take the time and money to replace the carpet with some hardwood; it would make cleaning up easier and would just look nicer.

The bar was always last because it wasn't usually that bad and you could get away with a not so thorough job as you tried to finish up before your shift ended. Corey was almost always done with the kitchen at this point and would be ready to mop the floor after you wiped down the counter.

As expected, Corey was waiting in the kitchen doorway with the mop bucket right next to him when you made it to the bar counter.

“Any plans after you get off?” he asked.

“Sleep,” you answered.

“You sure lead an exciting life,” he said jokingly.

“It's going to be after one in the morning soon; what kind of plans could I have?”

“I don't know. Figured maybe you'd have a boyfriend waiting for you or something.”

Boyfriend.

That word brought back some unpleasant memories. Of things you wanted to forget, and what you had run away from all those months ago.

You tried not to show it, but Corey seemed to pick up on the way you tensed at that.

“You okay?” he asked.

“I'm fine,” you told him hastily, “not in the dating scene currently. I needed a break.”

He nodded slowly.

“Gotcha.”

You couldn't say that the two of you were particularly close, having only known each other a little less than a couple of months, but you did appreciate that he understood boundaries. Too many of the older staff were nosy and wanted to know your business, which frequently got on your nerves.

Wiping down the last bit of the bar, you were about to throw the cleaning rag back into its bucket when you both heard a loud banging sound coming from the kitchen.

“What the hell?” said Corey.

“I'll check it; you start mopping out here,” you told him.

He nodded as you brushed past him, your eyes looking about the kitchen as you entered it, trying to find the source of the noise. Setting down the bucket on one of the counters, you made your way to the back when you didn't see anything.

The culprit ended up being a large pan that had somehow fallen off the shelf. Most likely from being stacked incorrectly. That was annoying, since you now needed to wash it off, with it having touched the floor and all.

“Everything okay?” Corey called back to you.

“Yeah. Something fell,” you answered.

The wash you gave the pan was rather haphazard, but as you set it to the side to dry overnight, you figured that if the crew in the morning had an issue with it, they could clean it again. Right now you were five minutes away from clocking out and you wanted to get out on time.

“We're all good out here,” Corey's voice called again.

You were about to answer him when you noticed the bucket you had brought in, and when you ran over to dump the water out, you noticed the rag was missing.

“Ah shit.”

You'd left it on the bar counter, didn't you?

You had indeed managed to do that, and you slipped past Corey, standing on your toes and propping an arm on the bar counter as you reached for the rag.

“Could you maybe not step on my clean floors?”

“Sorry,” you called back, “need to grab something.”

Pulling the rag off of the counter by its tattered edge, you pushed off the counter a bit as you moved back to get off of the wet floor.

Somehow, you slipped. You felt your feet slipping against the wet tile as you fell backwards, and you had only seconds to try and brace for impact.

You hit something, but it wasn't the floor.

Corey had moved behind and grabbed you just in time. He held you like that for a moment so you could adjust your footing and stand up properly.

It was then you both realized that, in his efforts to save you from a nasty fall, one of his hands had accidentally ended up grabbing ahold of your breast, and he was currently groping you.

“Fuck I am so sorry!” he exclaimed, pulling his hands away the second you righted yourself.

“It's okay,” you answered. It came out a bit shaky, though that was mostly due to you almost falling.

“I swear that was an accident,” Corey continued.

“It's okay,” you insisted, “seriously, it's fine. I prefer that over having my skull break open.”

Corey nodded, but still looked sheepish, a hand coming up to scratch the back of his head while he looked at the floor.

Eager to alleviate this new tension, you wracked your brain for something to say that would get things feeling not so weird again.

“Hey,” you said, “I didn't fall, so at least your floors have been spared from that.”

He chuckled a little bit.

“For the most part. But you still stepped on them in the first place.”

“I forgot I left the rag! Give me a break.”

“I will, if you move so I can re-mop the floor,” he said.

Happy that things seemed to have gone back to normal, you complied, walking back into the kitchen and tossing the rag into a bin. You grabbed the bucket again, hoisting it up to dump the murky contents into the sink.

A loud noise sounded from the dining area, like wood being split apart accompanied by the light tingling of a bell.

It was so unexpected and so noisy even in the kitchen that you jumped, causing you to spill some water onto the floor.

That noise..... Was that the front door? From hearing the bell it sounded like it, but hadn't you locked it?

“Sir,” Corey's voice sounded through the kitchen door, “w-we're closed.”

Corey saying that indicated that someone had come in, but that noise wasn't normal, and you set the bucket back down as you went back to the dining area to investigate.

And how did this person get in? You were certain you had locked that door.

You pushed open the door-

And froze.

Phinks.

He was standing in front of the bar's entrance, the door practically pulled off of it's hinges and hanging open. Bits of the door frame had splintered off from the force he had used to wrench it open and had been scattered on the walkway leading up to it.

But there was no way Phinks gave a shit about that.

The second you opened that door, his eyes were on you.

Rage.

Pure rage radiated from him, a blackened aura you swore you could see that slowly began to fill the empty spaces in the bar, his form stiff and his hands in fists that were clenched so hard that his knuckles had turned white.

Only months ago you had done everything to get away from this man. Now he had found you, and he looked like he was ready to kill.

Corey looked back when you had entered, and immediately noticed your terrified expression.

“You know him?” he asked you.

Words couldn't come out. They just stayed trapped in your throat as you looked between him and Phinks, your breathing becoming short and harsh.

That had told Corey everything, as he stepped in front of you and addressed Phinks firmly.

“Sir, please leave now. We're going to call the police.”

With Corey now in the way, you couldn't see Phinks. But when he spoke for the first time since entering, you could sense just how much angrier he had become at Corey's actions.

“Un-fucking-believable,” he hissed.

Corey turned back, reaching out to you as he said “go call nine-”

Faster than either you or he could even think, Corey was pulled over the bar and brutally thrown across the room, crashing into one of the tables, the wood surface splintering and the chairs on top flying.

“Don't fucking touch her.”

Phinks' attention was on Corey now, and he stepped away from the bar. Corey was groaning and disoriented. There was blood dripping down his face as well as his arm, and he was shaking so violently that he couldn't push himself up off of the floor, instead collapsing over and over again onto the bits of broken table.

Phinks stood before him and reached down to pull him up by the collar of his shirt.

Corey pushed away his arm and stumbled backwards, hitting the edge of another table. You could see his eyes now, and the way he looked at Phinks in terror and confusion.

“Pathetic,” Phinks spat.

The blonde rolled up the sleeve on his right arm, and began to wind that arm in a clockwise motion.

That was familiar, you realized, as a horrible memory was brought back.

A man had tried to cut the strap of your purse as you and Phinks were walking home one night. Phinks had noticed and pulled you out of the way, but not fast enough, and you had ended up with a large gash on your arm.

“You think I'm scared of you?” the man had said when an infuriated Phinks approached him, winding up his arm once, then twice and then three times.

Phinks punched him and the man went flying; across the empty street and into the side of a building. The impact had left a dent in the bricks and the man's blood smeared on the surface as his body slid down onto the pavement.

Your mind had gone hopelessly blank at the sight of that, the wound on your arm you had been nursing forgotten as you stared wide-eyed at your boyfriend, who quickly returned to your side and chided you for taking pressure off of the cut.

“Ph-Ph-Phinks,” you stuttered.

“Yeah?”

“You..... You killed that man.”

Phinks' gaze narrowed.

“What's your point?”

He was going to do it again.

That brought you out of your stupor, and you rushed to the edge of the bar as you yelled out “Phinks! Please! Don't kill him!”

More pleas for Corey's life were about to spill from your lips when he glared back at you, a silent command for you to shut the hell up. That look made you freeze up again, and you stood by helplessly, holding on to the edge of the bar as you watched Corey struggle to stay upright.

That murderous aura that had been around him was now stifling, and it affected Corey to the point that he was having trouble breathing.

You counted at least twenty times that Phinks had rotated his arm, the aura increasing every time he did it.

Phinks glanced back at you again, and rotated once more.

He punched Corey in the face.

And Corey's entire upper half exploded.

His head was completely gone, face caving in on itself where Phinks had punched until it burst out through the back of his skull. His chest and arms were blown to pieces from the impact, the smaller bits of muscle and organs ripping out of him and sticking to the walls while the larger pieces of meat slid down with the copious amounts of blood and collected into the booths below. His lower half that remained mostly intact slumped beneath the table he had been leaning against, the remainder of his insides spilling out onto the floor while one of his legs still twitched. There was a fine red mist in the air over what remained intact, slowly settling down and soaking into the dark carpet.

You couldn't move.

You just stood there, keeping your hold on the edge of the bar, occasionally tensing and untensing your fingers as you looked at the piles of red slush and bone that had been your coworker.

Phinks had already walked away from it, coming towards the bar. But he passed by you, slamming the door to the kitchen open and letting it swing shut as he entered. You could hear movement, the sounds of his shoes scraping on the brick-red tile of the floor, glass clinking, him cursing to himself, a faucet being turned, and a familiar sound of water filling up a small container.

But you still stood there, unable to take your eyes away from the horrific scene. Minutes, no, seconds ago, that had been a person. Corey had friends, family and aspirations. And within a single moment, that person had been reduced to a mangled corpse that would only fill half of a body bag. How would they identify him? Whoever cleaned him up, would they be able to get everything? Or would bits of him be left behind and stay forever buried in the cracks and crevices of the bar?

You had seen Phinks kill before and it had made you sick then, but nothing had ever been anywhere near as terrible as this.

Corey's leg had stopped twitching, but blood that had hit the wall continued to trickle down in small streams.

You heard Phinks let out a loud sigh as a glass slammed against a metal counter top.

“Okay,” he called out, “I think I've calmed down now.”

Those footsteps in the back became louder and the door swung open again. Phinks appeared by your side, and when he gently put a hand on your arm, you finally looked away from Corey.

Phinks opened his mouth to speak, but stopped when he glanced over to the mess he had left.

“... Lets go to the back,” he said after a moment.

He pulled you with him into the kitchen, and you didn't fight him on it. He still looked angry, but it was considerably less than when he had first entered.

Phinks leaned against the rim of the sink, one hand staying on you as you were positioned to stand in front of him.

“Been a while,” he said quietly.

You didn't respond.

He tsked.

“Goddammit. I find you again after months, and now you can't speak because of that asshole out there. Look, I know I overdid it, but after seeing the way that guy touched you I couldn't control myself.”

His eyes narrowed and he continued “why the fuck did you let him get away with touching you like that?”

Somehow, you managed to find your voice.

“I-it.... It was an a-accident.”

Phinks' free hand came up to lightly slap the side of your head. It didn't hurt, but you flinched regardless.

He had used that hand to end Corey's life; he could easily do the same to you.

“Stupid. You actually thought a move like that was accidental? That bastard was taking advantage of you and you were laughing it off.”

That wasn't true. It had been an accident. But instead of volunteering those thoughts, you bit down on your lip as it began to quiver, tears starting to form in your eyes.

“Don't cry. Sorry. I shouldn't have hit you,” he said, his hand going back up to where he hit, softly stroking your hair.

“I'm just so fucking pissed at how gullible you are. What do you think would've happened if someone smarter had tried taking advantage of you? Fuck, some guys wouldn't need to be smarter; they'd just need to be strong enough to pin you down. Do you even realize how many ways you could've been fucked over before I found you? Did you even think about that? Or was that just me, because I'm actually capable of having some fucking sense?”

His hands settled on your shoulders and his grip became tighter.

“I've been stressed out of my mind trying to figure out where the hell you went, how the hell you managed to get away, or what condition you'd be in when I found you. I couldn't find you and I swear I was going insane. And after all that, when I finally manage to track you down, I have to see you letting some piece of trash grope you?”

Those hands slid up until they were around your neck, and his grip became tighter still.

“It would be so easy,” he murmured, “to just snap your neck and be done with it. Then the constant headache I get from worrying about you would go away. If you're going to fight and run away from me than what's the point?

“Maybe it'd be better for me if you were dead.”

It was deathly quiet in that kitchen.

Phinks still held that grip on you, and you were certain he could feel how fast your heart was beating through the pulse in your neck. You stood there, stiff and quiet as he looked you over, thinking to himself.

He really was considering it.

Any wrong move from you, and there would be two corpses to be found in the morning.

After a few painfully silent moments, he sighed again.

“But I think that if I killed you, part of me would die, too. Maybe that sounds stupid, but it's the truth.”

Finally taking his hands off your throat, he pulled you against his chest to embrace you.

“You drive me fucking crazy,” Phinks said, “but I'd be even more miserable if I didn't have you. Does that make sense?”

Your face was pressed against the front of his tracksuit and you found yourself focusing on the patterned colors of white, red and green.

“I've heard it said a lot that being in love means that you also have to suffer,” he continued, “do you think that's true?”

“..... I don't know.”

Your voice was barely above a whisper and was muffled by the way he pressed you against his chest, but he still managed to hear your answer as he actually chuckled, rubbing the top of your head.

“'I don't know'. Big surprise there,” he said sarcastically, “you haven't changed a bit.”

When he pulled you away he was smiling, wiping away your tears with his thumb as he told you “don't cry anymore. I'm taking you home.”

Hearing that only made you want to cry more.

“Go get your bag and anything else you brought in,” he continued, “I already went to your apartment and packed up your stuff there. Once we're done here we can head out.

“We'll be back home before you know it.”

[hageny]

Succession Thoughts: Gerri x Roman 

AN: Credit goes to @thinkingfixatingobsessing​ for the idea for point number one in this post. Also, this post is my lengthiest yet, but I promise it’s worth the read, lol.

1. Come Over?

This moment between Roman and Gerri is a small one, but presents an interesting thread that starts in this episode--Vaulter--and gets threaded into their phone sex scene in Safe Room. During his time working through the documents and foundations of Vaulter, Roman is stuck in the middle of the proxy battle and feeling the heat of the moment, which comes to a head in this scene. We see him wrestling with himself about what to do, throwing his phone a pathetic glance, hesitating, and then finally deciding to call Gerri for help. He divulges to her that he essentially has no clue what to do and throws out a weak ‘pivot to video’ idea that Gerri instantly reminds him was tried by the Vaulter team already and presumably fell flat. Finally, Roman breaks and asks her meekly, “Can you just come over? I want you in the room.” This is interesting because it is one of the first scenes where the show establishes the fact that Roman seeks out Gerri for comfort. This, of course, comes on the heels of their trip to Japan, so we can deduce that Roman has realized that Gerri could’ve screwed him but didn’t, and sees how he was exposed to her nurturing side when he needed it most. What’s interesting is how the dialogue in this scene mimics what comes later. He first asks her for her help, and when she balks at his request, he immediately says, “Yeah, could--yeah--fuck you!” and hangs up on her. The move from gentle and comforting to caustic is an interesting one, but it’s fascinating because for once it isn’t built into the scene to showcase that Roman needs degradation to achieve sexual pleasure. Here, he flies off the handle at Gerri, but when we think about this scene the reason why is obvious and not tied to sex: Roman gets angry because in his one weak moment the response he receives is not the sympathetic one he wants, and so he pivots back to caustic to shield himself later on. He knows that should Gerri brings this up later he can tell her he was fucking with her and didn’t mean it, but in truth, he did mean it--he did want her and need her, and Gerri didn’t understand this, and was too busy with things on her end to meet him where he needed her. Part of Roman’s hang ups, sexually, are tied to the degradation he experienced as a child, but there is also a link between his need for degradation and his realization that he never got the comfort he needed, so seeking insult was easier. He is a walking example of the quote, "All attention is good attention.” Because Roman never received the comfort he desired, he shields himself from rejection by pretending to be hardier than what he is and striving to be insulted, because to him, at this stage, it’s all the same. He could get a hug, but getting walloped and getting off are faster so he settles for that instead. This thread is later carried into the ‘shirt-button’ scene in Hunting, where Gerri walks up to Roman’s room to look in on him. Now, she has the understanding of him that is necessary to respond appropriately, and instead of berating him for being a mess she comforts him, and he responds not by pushing her away but accepting her gentility, however brief. Roman doesn’t so much need humiliation to get off--he only needs it because it’s all he thinks he deserves, and it’s served him well enough so far. It’s the key to his inability to have sex with his other girlfriends: it’s not that he can’t, it’s that sex requires intimacy and sensitivity, and Roman isn’t close enough to himself emotionally to comfortably tap into these feelings and deliver. 

2. Rejected.

As I’m re-watching the series in preparation for Season 3, there is a thread which is established early on between Kendall and Gerri that begins in Lifeboats and is expounded upon later in the show. We see Kendall at the helm of Waystar during Logan’s absence as he makes his infamous ‘Lifeboats’ speech, gathering his team together and asking for their help in moving Waystar into the future, inviting them to pool their ideas and deliver them to him, essentially attempting to depart from his father’s style of management by ostensibly establishing an ‘open door policy’ with his team. This move, however, is ironic, as immediately after this scene we have the scene between himself and Gerri, pictured above. Really, in hindsight, Kendall is as manipulative as Logan, but he is weaker in the sense that he is not as combative openly, and therefore comes across as a softer, better version of his father, which isn’t always true to his nature. We see Gerri follow Kendall after the meeting and tell him, “I want to talk options to you, okay? I’ve got some thoughts I’ve been working on for a long time--”. Kendall immediately interrupts her and replies, “I don’t want the sloppy seconds, Gerri. I’m taking five to think big.” When she presses the issue again, promising that she has some good ideas, he flat out rejects her without even listening to her, and it is here where we see shades of his father in himself. It’s also what makes Gerri’s manipulation of Kendall easier later on. We can deduce that this is not the first time that Gerri has been pushed to the sidelines by one of the Roy family members, and at a time when help is sorely needed--and on the heels of Kendall openly asking for it--he outright rejects Gerri’s and essentially makes it clear to her that her help is second-rate help--only useful to him when it can get him out of a tight squeeze, but not so useful that he believes her worth listening to when the stakes are higher. This ties into her relationship with Roman as well. While Roman is always showcased as being the one who needs her, if we pay attention we can clearly see that Gerri’s need for him is equal to his. Gerri has been a part of Waystar for decades--at one point in Pre-Nuptial commenting to Kendall that she and Frank are reminiscing about their first visit to Caroline’s estate in 1986--making her one of the most senior members of staff. But what she has--it is implied--never had is someone who genuinely valued her ideas and her input. This is also what she gets from Roman. She tells him to do something, he does it. She throws an idea out, he listens. He becomes her voice, often using the phrases, “Gerri thinks” or “Gerri says” during Season 2. Through Roman, we hear Gerri, and through Gerri we see Roman’s potential. They carry each other. Roman is always depicted by his family as being stupid, and yet who was smart enough to seek out advice from the one person with the most experience at Waystar aside from Logan? Not his siblings. Because they believe they know better, their ego will be their downfall. 

3. In Logan’s Shadow.

In Sad Sack Wasp Trap, we see shades of Gerri’s eventual betrayal of Kendall begin to take shape. Having tasted his first drops of power, real power, Kendall’s ego immediately starts to swell in little ways. We hear him telling Jess that he wants to do a run on the late-night TV circuit, having gotten the idea while traveling in L.A. Gerri reacts to this with disbelief, and Kendall retorts, “What does that mean? I was fuckin’ king of the Lampoon.” Kendall’s use of the word ‘king’ is used to purposefully emphasize the way he has begun to see himself--finally in the position he desired for so long, finally out of his father’s sphere of influence. His high is interrupted by Jess’ telling him that his father has dropped into the office and wants to see him. When Kendall asks Gerri if she knew about this, she denies this, but when he says, “Shouldn’t he have told you?” all she does is shrug coolly in his direction. This begs the question: did Gerri really not know? On the surface, it seems obvious she didn’t, but we have to consider that this moment comes right after Kendall’s complete disregard for her in the previous episode. Gerri’s motivation to help Kendall would be at a fairly low point, and what could be more amusing to her than to watch him fall flat on his face so quickly again, especially considering Logan’s outrage at Kendall’s decision to bring Stewy in to help their debt issue. Maybe she genuinely didn’t know, but given what she does later on, it would seem pertinent to wonder. 

4. Take the piss.

Later in Sad Sack Wasp Trap, Kendall finds out that his father has pissed on his carpet and brings Roman, Gerri, and Frank in to assess and discuss the situation. He starts by lecturing them about what could happen if people knew Logan had done this, pointing out that this bit of knowledge could spear the company’s already flagging public persona, and trying to use that as a way to keep his father from attending the RECNY ball. He tries to drop the responsibility for fixing the situation into Gerri’s hands, telling her she needs to talk to Logan and tell him that if he intends to come back he has to do so via the proper avenues, and that he can’t just show up on a whim. Gerri listens for a while, and eventually delivers a barb that is subtle but effective. She asks Kendall, “What did you do, Kendall, when you realized he’d done this?”, referring to Logan’s pissing incident. Kendall immediately falters, stuttering that he didn’t want to embarrass his father in front of Stewy and basically admitting he did nothing. The camera sweeps over her and Roman’s faces, and they give Kendall the same look, suggesting they are disappointed but not surprised at his ineffectiveness. This moment also mirrors what Roman does later in Vaulter, undercutting his brother in front of his father to get the result he wants. The point of Gerri’s remark is to showcase her opinion of him. To Gerri, Kendall is nothing but a papa’s boy with a golden spoon in his mouth, someone who wants the power but is unwilling to work for it. And who can really blame Kendall? Considering the way his father treats him, he has learned from Logan that working is one thing, but using a by-way to get to the top faster is better, and he attempts to see this come to fruition by taking control of a company he is ill-equipped to lead. Gerri’s disgust for Kendall is fairly obvious, but to Kendall’s great misfortune, he is a swimmer in a shark tank, completely out of his league in her waters. She is faster than him, more subtle, more cunning, and lacking in conscience enough that when she disposes of him later she feels no remorse. Kendall has bad traits but he is overall not a bad character, and we see his better parts shine when he is not chasing power. But to Gerri, his better characteristics are a moot point. She undercuts him later once again, and we see how she delights in what she’s doing, how his weakness and trusting nature to her are disgusting, and if anything make it easier for her to do what she does. While Roman makes her prove herself equal, playing with her, seeing if she can give back what he puts out, Kendall takes for granted her abilities, wanting only a menial servant, and sees himself eaten alive. 

5. I Will Guide Thy Hand.

During the RECNY ball, we find out--via Connor--the Kendall has plans to make a retirement announcement in Logan’s presence, allegedly so he can usurp the throne for himself. Though Kendall later denies this, we do know that he does not want his father to speak at the ball. Allegedly, this is out of ‘good will’, his concern for his father and the company mainly influencing his decision, but truthfully Kendall is also motivated by a desire to take hold of a position his father always had at the ball--as a speaker--and be on the receiving end of the adoration Logan is so used to. He wants to be seen by the public the way his father is: competent, powerful, totally in control; he also knows that there is a chance that Logan will declare himself CEO again, knocking Kendall from his throne--which eventually comes to fruition. Gerri knows this, is smart enough to intuit why Kendall is afraid, and is calm when Kendall once again comes to her for assistance, wanting her to handle his father. Unlike earlier, she doesn’t throw any barbs his way. She calmly promises to talk to Logan about his supposed speech and to try to dissuade him--while not so convincingly claiming she knew nothing about the speech at all to begin with. Instead of doing what she promised, she walks over to Logan and simply tells him, “Good luck tonight. Gonna knock it out of the park.” She gives him the motivation he needs to move forward with his plans, especially at a point where his health is so precarious. Gerri knows this, knows Logan well enough to understand that a little reassurance will ensure that Logan will do as planned and follow through with his decision. We see her later in the episode watching the whole thing play out during Logan’s speech, a self-satisfied smirk on her face, already knowing the end from the beginning. What we’re witnessing is the blooming of the flower on the end of the thread that started when Kendall disrespected her in Lifeboats. All he had to do to save himself was listen to Gerri, and yet he chose not to, believing he knew better than her how to reposition Waystar and lead the company into the future. He, who has been to rehab, fallen prey to his addictions and vices, and only played in the big leagues when he wanted to while Gerri--and the other members of Waystar--had to be there regardless of the circumstances in their personal lives. Again we can’t solely blame Kendall--he is the person his father has allowed him to be. We can also see that what Kendall lacks is the thing that makes Gerri so capable of remaining in power--detachment. Gerri is emotionally detached enough to do her job well and not worry about what amoral things she does to maintain her position of power. This is another trait she shares with Roman, who, after hearing how beleaguered the employees of Vaulter are, still guts the company and costs them their jobs without a second thought to the damage he is doing. With regard to her relationship with Kendall, for Gerri destroying him is not only easy but pleasurable. She knows that Kendall stupidly trusts her, and will remain none the wiser to her duplicitousness, and so she operates in the background, doing what she can to ensure he will lose what is so precious to him because of her--all while believing she did what she could to help him. This theme reminded me of the movie The Witch, hence the title of this particular post. Thomasin ends up in the hands of the Devil at the end, and--believing he will give her what she wants--she gives her soul to him. Like Kendall, she doesn’t realize that the person who is giving her what she wants is really taking everything, and she, like Kendall, is left with nothing in the end. Am I comparing Gerri to the Devil? Only superficially. She is certainly not totally like Satan, but from what we see here, she has the ability to operate like him: swiftly and maliciously. 

[v3nusaphr0d1t3]

i’m in love with a stripper

crossposted on ao3: <3 rating: mature warnings: strip club environment, suggestive themes (no actual smut tho) gender neutral stripper!reader x hawks. afab implied but can be read either way.

your job was to look good, feel bad, and entertain. in the most literal sense.

life as an ‘exotic dancer’ wasn’t nearly as glamorous as movies and shit made it out to be. your body ached constantly, you had nearly fought about 4 people in the past two weeks, and you came home in the morning smelling like alcohol and sweat and some random cologne. the pay wasn’t amazing on its own, so you had to rut yourself against old men to pay your rent.

and yet, it was addicting in a way you couldn’t exactly explain. you had wanted to work in the entertainment industry since you were little, a star up on the big screen. this was sort-of similar. you had eyes on you at all times, and it was your job to put on a great show. but instead of red-carpets it was party favors and gross back-room carpeting. 

it was good workout, and you knew you looked good enough to taste, so that was always a plus. tonight, you were all dolled up, one of your more femme looks. your shorts were riding low on your hips, yet still stopped so high on your legs that it could be considered more of a belt than a pair of shorts. your thong straps framed your hips, bright red in comparison to the blue jean shorts. you had a red bikini top on, and a crop top that was yet again just another shred of fabric framing it. your shoes were red and tall enough to make you feel like you were on top of the world. 

you had gotten used to the sashay and drama of all the bullshit presentation, perfected your sultry stare, and polished your pole skills. yes, you could use work. but so could everyone, it was an art that you were still constantly trying to learn more about. 

so as you walked your way out on stage on a busy friday night, you could tell that tonight would be a good tip night. first off, there was MUCH more security than normal, which meant that someone important was probably in attendance for some kind of ‘special night’. they got bachelor parties and birthday parties all the time, but usually they weren’t this… guarded?

 it was strange, but you instead focused on feelings the rhythm in your bones as you strutted your way up to the pole, starting to go into one of your choreographed routines that you knew like the back of your hand. though you supposed you could throw in some more risky moves, for whoever was currently paying for your console gaming subscription. being in the air was always exhilarating, but you were always worried about flashing too much. you knew that it would happen eventually, but you would still prefer for it not to.

you spun too fast on your way down and got that wobbling feeling in your stomach as your heels hit the stage a bit too hard to be ‘graceful’. oh well, you thought as you moved to the more floor-based part of your routine. you brought your hands up, running them over your body and pulling at your crop top, pulling it off and throwing it further back on the stage to be retrieved when you were done with your set. 

you made it slow, teasing, swaying your hips to the beat of the song and running your hands back down, under the strings of your thong to snap them against your hips. it was effective, but it was hard not to wince in annoyance. you were too salty to do this shit. it was a lucky thing that you were so good at acting. you slid further onto your knees, back arched as you looked some random guy that was halfway decent and crawled forward. that was something that always racked in tips. it made folks feel engaged with the whole experience. the guy held up a 20 and you stuck it under your thong strap, moving to collect more of the money that had been thrown at you.

you were honest with yourself when you said you loved the attention that this job brought. there were many people out in the crowd that wanted you, that sat in their chair or stood amongst the sweaty crowd with a white-knucked grip and lust in their eyes, and you ate it up. you loved being wanted, it was one of the worlds wonders. 

eventually, you finished your set, hair tousled from flipping it, back of your knees and your hands sore from gripping the pole, but ultimately you felt invigorated. energized. like someone had wound you up like a toy. and now you had to pounce on someone in hopes of attention and the money you needed to buy that new game you had been saving up for. comical.

you could tell a bunch of the dancers were anticipating the party that was in tonight. it was obvious they were important, and important people had money. so the dancers that weren’t on the stage currently were prowling around the VIP area, looking to advertise themselves.

you decided to do the charity work and tend to the rest of the forgotten crowd. you knew from experience that eventually the richer guests would get tired of giving their money away and eventually leave. and the rest of the crowd was just sitting there, so you slipped your way in to the seats that were closer to the stage (shitty stripper etiquette, but some of thesen dancers were fuckin’ shady sometimes) and found some dude who looked wimpy enough to play the whole deity act with. 

you walked your way around the chair, placing your hands on his shoulders and beginning to rub them, your hand making it’s way down his chest as you whispered a greeting in his ear. you used your other hand to run through his hair, plucking the bill in his hand out of his hand and into your g string on your hip with the rest of them. you moved back around the chair and plopped down on his lap, feigning interest and asking him about his day, making him feel special with the whole shebang. you eventually were able to make quiet some money from that guy, surprisingly. and you left him alone and unsatisfied when the lights dimmed between sets. 

now, to find someone else out of sight of the first guy. you were on your way to do that when something caught your eye. a glimmer of gold, no- not metal, someones eyes. you were momentarily mesmerized before you realized that the person attached to those honey irises was staring at you. at you. from the VIP booth. while you were in the middle of the crowd. you were never flustered, so it was new when you felt a heat in your cheeks. 

you quickly put your act back on, throwing him a wink. he made a ‘come here’ motion with his finger, but you gave him a playful grin and a little teasing wave of dismissal. you had no idea what came over you to do that, but you decided to stick with this little ‘hard-to-get’ persona, and you disappeared into the crowd. 

not 10 minutes later you were grinding on some guy through your shorts, just to work that 50 out of his hand. he was one of the assholes that would promise and never give. it was hypocritical for you to think that way, you supposed, but it was your job. either way, you got it from him by nosing up his neck (too much cologne) and giggling in his ear. and he put the bill in your g-string himself. gross.

you slid away from him between sets like you always did, and once again felt the heat of eyes on you. this was different, however. it wasn’t like the usual eyes on you, the gazes you had grown to crave and expect. this was predatory. you were being watched like a hawk. you spun around to find him staring at you again, this time split off from his little friends and instead sitting in a chair further back from the stage. he gave you a certain look and raised his hand, waving a bill in his hand. like bait! that was hotter than it should have been. 

still, decided to make your way over to him, stopping in front of his chair, towering over him in your platform heels as he sat in the chair. he didn’t seem too physically imposing, but his energy was cockier than shit and you could tell he was bulked up. you usually didn’t fuck with these types, but something about him was just magnetic. it was insane. he leaned back in his chair, obviously insinuating that he wanted the same treatment as the others. you instead took a singular finger and raised his chin up to meet his eyes as they ran you up and down. 

and that was when you realized, under the dim lights, that you were a complete and total idiot. you hadn’t even realize that the man in front of you was hawks, number two pro hero and the man too fast for his own good. you tried not to make a face, but you knew he could most definitely see in your eyes the minute you put the puzzle pieces together. what the fuck was he doing in a place like this?

“what the fuck is someone like you doing in a place like this?” you asked, coming out of your mouth before you could really stop yourself. he only chuckled, grinning as you felt his jaw tense against your finger. the main reason you didn’t recognize him is because there was a lack of giant red wings.

“what anyone else is tryin’ to do. have a good time! it’s my friends birthday, i have a life outside work, you know?” his voice was barely heard over the pounding of the music and the bass rattling under your feet. 

“what about your reputation? i’m surprised there isn’t a line to gag on your dick at this point,” you held no filter in speaking to him. you never had it with anyone else, really, and what was so special about him? he was just another dude in the club, so you did what you always did and slid into his lap, pressing your bodies together in all the ways you knew did the best. you watched something flash in his eyes as he bit his lip for a moment. he looked back up to meet your eyes again.

“well, how long did it take you to recognize me? and you’re sober, aren’t you?” hawks brought a sculpted arm up to wrap around your waist, and you slapped it away as you worked your hips against his to the beat. 

“no comment. and no touching, unless you want to pay for that too.”

“i might just have to. what’s your name, gorgeous?” his face was too smug for a man who could buy the building, yet completely in the the eye of the public had a semi hard-on for a stranger in some daisy dukes. 

“i don’t know, what’s yours?” you asked, raising your eyebrow. you didn’t know his real name, no one did. it was a mystery highly speculated about online, not that you checked or anything. 

“fair enough, fair enough. pick one before i blow a couple hundred on getting free roam to touch you.” he said, rolling his hips up to meet yours. this shocked you, catching your breath, and you knew he had noticed by the shit-eating grin he wore. 

you gave him your stripper name. it was sufficient enough to add another layer of mystery, because even though you were in his lap, you wanted to keep up this game of cat and mouse. predator and prey.

the thought of that made you tingle. you told him your rates, and he forked it over quite a fuckin’ bit. you stood up from where you were sat in his lap (thought the loss was more upsetting than you would care to admit). you took his wrist (his hand was big) and started to drag him back to one of the more secluded areas. 

you had to pass the VIP area to do that, and when you did, you heard a shout. it scared the shit out of you for starters, but hawks seemed to recognize the voice. it was coming from a woman with white hair and rabbit ears, currently cheering hawks on.

“fuckin’ get some, dude!” she said, and her voice was strangely familiar as hawks flashed an award-winning grin and a thumbs up. you winked at her and pulled hawks on with you.

you pulled him into a pseudo-room in the back. not cut off by doors, but isolated and split off by room dividers. you pushed him back onto one of the booth-like seats lining the wall.

the music was quieter back here, and it was easier to hear yourself think. the lights were dim and the bass was still thumping through the floor. there was no one back here, just you and him. 

“ ‘kay, so i’m technically not supposed to let you touch me, but you just paid for my groceries and they don’t really check the cameras here. also, you’re cute.” you rambled off, more genuine and clearer now that the music wasn’t so intense in the middle of the madness. and then, catching the beat, you started your ministrations, rolling your hips against his and hearing his breath catch as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. 

“so i’ve been told,” he says with a shit-eating grin.

“don’t let it go to your head, princess.” you said, and he didn’t reply, too focused on oogling you.

his hands came up to hold your waist, and he put his effort into moving along with you, and his grinding did not go unnoticed. or unappreciated, for that matter. with his hips at your waist, he raked his thumbs under your thong straps and snaps them against your hips like you had earlier. it earns a breathy chuckle from you as you watched his pupils pin. you pulled back, standing and watching his face sour as his hands were pulled from your waist. but you decided to give him a little show, just ‘cuz you had a case of the hots for him and the way he was looking at you was much appreciated.

you now stood in front of him, towering above him as you toyed with the waistband of your daisy dukes. he simply bit his lip, practically eye-fucking you. it was exhilarating. you enjoyed the lustful gazes from customers, but this was on a different level. you felt truly alive, and yet like you were melting all the same. your insides felt gooey but you kept your perfected expression hard, movements practiced, sex appeal seasoned to flawlessness. and now you unbuttoned your shorts, pulling them down to reveal your bright red thong, hips, legs and torso all one long line. he looked at you like dinner and you were fucking living for it.

you kneeled inbetween his legs, laying your head on one of his thighs in the way you knew drove people crazy.

you heard a small “god damn,” exit his mouth as he looked at you, entranced as you caught his t-shirt on your way up his body with your teeth, pulling it up and dropping it back down, promptly standing up to slide backwards into his lap. you roll your ass where you know it’s appreciated and hear his breathing speed up behind you. you can practically hear his heart pounding to match your own, like a drum to the beat. your body laid down the bass, your eyes were the melody and he was drowning.

and when it was all over, poor guy walked out of the club with his fellow semi-disguised pro-heros with a raging hard on.

and later on, when you were pulling all your money out to count it, you caught a piece of paper rolled up along a $100 bill. it was his number. a pro-hero gave you his number. that was risky, especially in the type of place they were in.

you liked the risk he took. you put his number in your phone. 

[hot-wiings]

The One Where Katsuki Bakugo Gives You A Priceless Gift For Christmas. Alternatively, The One Where [Y/N] [L/N] Buys Her Boyfriend A Joke Gift. 

Edited: 12-1-2020

The fire crackled as you walked into the entertainment room of the rented cabin you were staying in. It was nice, it had a fairly well fireplace that kept the entire cabin warm and it had relatively spacious rooms. It was supposed to be a nice romantic getaway from the city, Christmas in a rustic cabin. An escape from your busy lives as heroes, an escape from work, villains, and responsibility. You were sure Katsuki would have been enjoying his time with you had he not been so annoyed.

Last-minute Mina and Denki found out about your plans, she and he wormed their way into getting invited. It wasn't like you had a real reason not to let them tag along, it was a three-bedroom cabin, and you weren't going to tell them they couldn't come because you planned on getting railed on the holiest holiday of the year. You end up inviting them and Eijirou, much to Katsuki's displeasure.

You made a quick way around the presents on the floor as you reached the love seat next to the fireplace. Katsuki had woken you up and gave you specific instructions to get two cups of coffee and preserve the good couch for the both of you before 'those damn extras' get another chance to ruin his holiday.

You were glad you got the desired couch before Mina or Denki could. It was right by the fire giving you a toasty feeling, but you knew halfway through opening presents you would be curled up against your boyfriend, receiving his heat instead.

"You get the good seat?"

"Yup!"

Katsuki plopped himself down next to you into the two-person loveseat and took his coffee mug from your outstretched hand. He let out a soft grunt as he took some of the substance down his throat.

"I woke them up, should be out here once they dry off."

"I thought you were joking. I specifically told you not to throw snow on them."

"Since when do I listen."

"Santa's gonna give you coal for Christmas."

Your voice came out in a singsong voice, teasing him. He had no clue that you, in fact, did get him coal for Christmas. It was a joke gift that Mina convinced you to get him. The idea of your boyfriend opening coal was too enticing to turn down. To be fair, it wasn't like you didn't get him something else. The minute you're done opening gifts, Katsuki was going to get his real present in the bedroom.

"Speaking of gifts, you're never gonna beat the gift I bought you."

"Oh?"

"Fuck, you're gonna love your gift."

Katsuki placed a quick kiss on the side of your head before rummaging through all the gifts on the floor, looking for the small box he packaged up and wrapped months ago. He knew he wanted to give you this, he wanted to pop the question. He had been trying to pop it for months now but he couldn't find the right way, it had to be perfect. It was Eijirou who convinced him to just wrap it up for Christmas, but he hadn't counted on the two dumber individuals of his friend group to try and tag along on the trip, he also hadn't counted on you letting them tag along. Luckily he had Eijirou, shitty hair was supposed to keep dumb and dumber out of the room while he gave you this gift.

"Open it."

You caught the small box that your boyfriend tossed at you and smiled at him. You shook it slightly before taking a drink from your coffee and placing it on the table next to you.

"Katsuki, we've gotta wait for the others."

"Just open it, trust me. Before they come in."

"Fine..."

You bit your lip as you made work on the tape and peeled off the paper. You pulled a small black velvet box out of the wrapping and flipped it open. You pulled your hand up to your mouth in shock as you looked at the ring. It was gorgeous, and the diamond was huge. It must have cost a fortune. You looked over at Katsuki who had knelt to one knee and you couldn't help but smile. He was doing it, he was really doing it.

"[Y/N]. Every day with you is like waking up on Christmas. It's joyful, happy, and fuckin' fun. It's worth living. Do me the pleasure of marrying me."

"Oh my god, Katsuki... Yes, yes!"

You quickly slid the ring on your finger and examined it as Katsuki sat down on the couch next to you and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you against his body.

"Told you I got the best gift... So what'd ya get me?"

Your throat went dry as you remembered your gift to Katsuki. He was going to kill you, as a matter of fact, you were going to kill Mina for having the idea in the first place. How could you give your boyfriend--fiance cole for Christmas, you couldn't, not when he just proposed with the biggest rock ever. You would look like such an ass.

"About that... I left your gift at home."

You scratched the back of your neck nervous as you tried to find the gift among the pile of gifts all your friends brought and placed under the tree making a mess of wrapped boxes.

"Don't be shy just cause' I got you something awesome. I know you grabbed it before we left the apartment, I saw you."

As Katsuki stood up to rummage through the gifts to find the one with his name scrawled out in your handwriting you panicked. He couldn't open that gift. At the same time, Mina walked in and spotted your ring. She could sniff these things out like a dog.

"Oh my God! Your hand! That rock! It's huge!"

"I know! It's Katsuki's Christmas gift to me, he proposed."

"I didn't know Katsuki could be so romantic! That's like the best gift ever. Oh! oh..."

You and Mina made eye contact with the same thought in mind. He could not open that gift or he was going to skin you both alive.

"Katsuki, just sit down. Wait your turn."

"No, I wanna see what you got me."

Without thinking you threw yourself onto Katsuki's back, wrapping your arms around his shoulder and chest region you made it hard for Katsuki to move. Mina was quick to jump into action and grabbed the gift but she froze as Katsuki tried shaking you off of him. He didn't know why you didn't want him to open the gift, but with Mina involved he desperately wanted to see what it was.

"Mina, do something!"

"I- I-"

Mina wasn't sure what to do. She couldn't just dispose of the gift, not especially after he saw it. Oh, but she could! Without a second thought, Mina threw the box on the floor and shot her acid on it.

You let go of Katsuki, thinking you were out of the woods but you thought wrong. You supposed you and Mina should have paid more attention to chemistry class in school, maybe then you'd know acid does not get rid of coal. It creates a chemical reaction, a chemical reaction that makes fire. Rapid, quick fire. It wasn't long before the fire spread over the house due to the carpeted floor. You and Mina felt embarrassed, red cheeks spread from your necks to your foreheads as Denki and Eijirou came rushing in and trying to put it out. It just kept spreading like lighter fluid. The damage was far too severe to put out so Katsuki just blew a hole in the wall creating an exit for you all.

"What the fuck was in that box."

You and Mina looked at your feet before she spoke up. Her voice came out quick, quick, and fast before she took off to her car.

"It was coal. Merry Christmas."

You never saw a car pull out of a driveway so fast, and you would've been amazed had you not been enraged over the utter betrayal.

"You got me fucking coal for Christmas?"

"Eijirou and I are just gonna leave... Uhm... We grabbed your keys, congrats on the engagement, and merry Christmas."

Eijirou and Denki were quick to get to their car and left. Cowardly traitors. They were all leaving you to deal with a ticking time bomb, couldn't they at least stay until the fire department arrived.

"My God Katsuki! Look at this ring, it's so pretty! Aren't you glad I'm your fiance? If you think about it, burning a house down is nothing when you think about how I said yes."

Despite the fact you got him coal, despite the fact you started a fire and he was mostly going to have to pay for all the damage, despite the fact you were both barefoot in the snow, Katsuki laughed. Maybe it was because it's Christmas, maybe it was because he was happy you said yes--he knew he'd never find another soul like you, someone who put up with him and all his shit.

"You're lucky you're my fiance... We can call the fire department from the car. Let's go, if I speed we can make it home on time to have dinner with my mom, we can tell her the news."

Katsuki laced your hand with his and brought it up to his mouth to kiss your knuckles. He dropped your hand, turned around, and bent down slightly at the knees.

"C'mon, I'll carry you to the car."

You were quick to climb into your fiance's back for the second time that morning. With your face resting in Katsuki's neck and your arms tightly wrapped around his neck, you smiled.

"Hey, Katsuki?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm glad you proposed. I don't wanna burn a house down on Christmas with anybody else but you."