#not from a big established toy company at least

[erb23]

I guess licensing is a different kind of beast, because you can not tell me that a car that scales well with 6in scale figures would cost that much more to make AND retail for twice as much if not more.

[irmawrites]

Sleeping with the enemy | One-Shot

Summary: your father, Gwayne Hightower, had always told you to beware of Davos Blackwood, son of one of your grandfather's most ardent haters. But when you meet him at a party years after graduating college, you can't help but think he's not so bad after all.

Rating: Explicit [18+], MDNI.

Pairing: modern!Davos Blackwood x Hightower!Reader (appearance isn’t specified, everyone is 18+ in this)

TW: smut with a tiny bit of plot, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), p in v sex, praising kink, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, dom/sub undertones, afab reader, not proofread.

Words count: 4393

Author’s note: Hi, everyone! This is my first time posting here, and I have to admit I'm a bit intimidated ahaha like a lot of people, I fell in love with Davos Blackwood's in episode three and ABSOLUTELY had to write this idea that's been on my mind for a while now.

I should probably mention that English is not my mother tongue, so please excuse my grammar mistakes!

Davos Blackwood had a bad reputation in your neighborhood, that much was true.

The rumors about him had started when you were still in college, something about red liquid smeared on the mirror in the boys' bathroom. A silly prank involving fake blood and strange theatrics to scare off a younger classmate that had perhaps gone too far. It was your own cousin Aemond who had found the fake crime scene just after the culprit had left, still licking his red-stained fingers. It caused quite a stir at the time, and he hadn't been seen on campus for at least two weeks. It may have been fake blood or just a tasteless joke, it was still inevitable that action would have to be taken.

It was Aeron Bracken in particular who had helped make these bizarre stories popular. He told anyone who would listen that Davos Blackwood was a deranged, violent madman. It was no secret that the two young men didn't get along. But no one expected things to get as bad as they did. There had been rumors in the hallways and whispers in the cafeteria, but that wasn't all. His car had been vandalized and marked with insults on several occasions. Even Gwayne Hightower, your father, had warned you.

A real witch hunt.

As far as you knew, however, the main target had remained unaffected by the situation, even toying with those who provoked him. In a way, he almost seemed to enjoy the wild, mysterious aura that all this fuss gave him.

You, for one, had never really believed it. After all, he didn't look like a bad guy, with his big, green eyes and permanently disheveled black hair. He seemed a little strange to you, a little off, but not enough to be considered a clear danger. But your opinion didn't matter much.

Nothing had ever destined the two of you to spend time together. His parents' company only did business with Rhaenyra's, refusing any ties and especially any agreements with the Hightowers. His father seemed to harbor a fierce hatred and boundless distrust of your family, apparently fearing that Otto's overweening ambition would lead him to overturn the order of succession established by Viserys himself and install his own grandson as sole ruler of the company.

And in your world, your parents had a bit more say in who you dated than they did for other people. You couldn't just go out with a guy because he seemed interesting, especially if he was the son of one of your grandfather's most ardent haters.

So you'd never spoken to each other in college, let alone at the lavish charity galas your family hosted.

Never, until that day.

"You like Iron Maiden?" a hoarse, unfamiliar voice said from behind you as you wrung the water out of your hair, "or is that your boyfriend's shirt?". The sun was high in the sky and you could feel the heat of its rays burning your exposed neck. The clear waters of the Targaryen family pool sparkled, and the garden echoed with the bursts of voices of those Aegon had invited to what should have been a casual gathering of the younger generation with ties to the Targaryen business.

You didn't think he'd invite Davos Blackwood, though.

"It's mine," you replied, giving the young man a mischievous smile, your fingers playing absentmindedly with the string that held the bottom of your swimsuit to your hip, "and yeah, it's one of my favorite bands actually." He seemed to take a moment to assess the situation, his eyes roaming up and down your body, an unreadable smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Never pegged you as a little rebel," he crossed his arms over his chest before continuing, "more of a model daughter." You knew he was toying with you, trying to tease you, but you were more than happy to play along.

Besides, you understood where the thought came from, you who were usually more used to short skirts and high heels than band shirts.

Mentally, you thanked Aegon for thinking of him. "Be careful, Blackwood," your voice sounded like a playful threat, "you might be surprised."

You were about to leave to return to the deck chairs, but it seemed that Davos wasn't quite finished with the conversation. "Wait," he ordered, taking your wrist between his broad fingers. Mechanically, you glanced around to make sure no one was watching. After all, the last thing you wanted was for someone to spy on your conversation with someone who still belonged to your grandfather's enemy side. "What is it?" it was your turn to cross your arms over your chest, your eyebrows furrowing as you waited for some kind of justification from him. It was clear he had something on his mind, but you just couldn't figure out what. "Do you want to come over to my place sometime?" he finally said, and you felt your breath catch somewhere between your throat and your lungs. "Why?" the question crossed your lips before you could even think about it.

You didn't know each other, had never spoken before, not to mention the fact that your families didn't approve of each other. You were tempted to agree, of course, because whether you liked it or not, you felt this kind of almost magnetic attraction pulling you together.

You'd have liked to think it was fate, but you knew it was just your love of danger and the forbidden.

His voice pulled you out of your thoughts again. "You seem like a pretty nice girl, and we obviously have the same taste in music," he replied, finally loosening his grip on your wrist, "we could watch a movie, get to know each other, something like that." The offer was tempting, the prospect of spending a little more time with him appealing, but even though you desperately wanted to say yes, you knew you couldn't. You had to be reasonable and listen to that little voice in your head that told you it all sounded like a terrible idea. But he seemed to sense your reluctance because he quickly added, "Don't worry, no one will know."

***

Davos’ room wasn't exactly what you'd call tidy. You noticed a half-full ashtray on the windowsill and a few empty cans on his desk. It was the opposite of your own bedroom, neatly decorated and perfectly organized. Your wardrobe drawers were a bit of an exception, but that didn't really matter.

Even so, you couldn't help but find it a little charming. The smell of his cologne in the air, the half-unraveled sheets, this was unmistakably him. It tasted risky and illicit, and it stirred something unfamiliar in the pit of your stomach. A reaction that no boy had ever managed to provoke in you.

"There's no denying it, vampires really are the best supernatural creatures," you muttered, sinking your teeth into the last slice of the half-cold pizza you'd ordered earlier. You were especially comfortable sitting cross-legged on his bed as the rain pounded against the windows and the end of the movie drew near on his computer screen. His parents were out of town for the week, on a business trip or something, providing you with an opportunity to finally meet away from prying eyes. He seemed quite comfortable too, with his leg pressed against yours and his hand wrapped around his soda cup, which he sipped absentmindedly. "I have to say, I never thought you'd be into movies like this," he told you after a few long seconds, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his lips, "given your looks, I thought you'd be more into romantic comedies or something." You held back an annoyed sigh.

"Like I said..." you finally replied, "you should beware of appearances."

They can be misleading sometimes, you kept to yourself.

It was true that you were usually a sweet, sensible girl, the ideal daughter who always smiled and never caused trouble. The pride and joy of your parents. But lately you had grown tired. Tired of following orders, of doing everything you were told without ever being able to listen to your heart. You were eager to get rid of this constant fear of disappointing your loved ones if you didn't live up to their expectations, and it seemed that life had given you the perfect opportunity to free yourself from all that. 

"Is there something I should know?" the young man’s hand came to rest on the top of your thigh, his thumb delicately stroking the soft skin there, "some dark secret of yours, princess?". His almost mocking tone and the annoying nickname were enough to bring back that scorching heat in the pit of your stomach. The way he looked at you, at your breasts, made you think that he was affected by this sudden closeness, too. His gaze burned, almost as much as his fingers, which were now creeping dangerously up the hem of your shorts. And when you felt them graze the lace of your underwear in the hollow where your leg and hip met, you thought that maybe, just maybe, you'd bitten off more than you could chew.

But even though you were entering unfamiliar territory, something foreign to you, you refused to lose control and let him take what he wanted without saying a word. This wasn't your style. You always had a witty comeback ready to go. And you were going to show him.

Slowly, you moved forward a few inches on the bed to sit astride his very inviting lap, never taking your eyes off his lips. Your hands found his shoulders, and you could feel the hardness of his desire beneath your thighs. Gods, the sensation was divine. This was your doing. You and no one else’s. The sudden surge of power and dominance made your head spin. "Be very careful what you do now," his fingers settled on your hips to bring your chests a little closer together, his grip tight and bruising. "Or what?" you replied in an almost insolent, even provocative tone.

"Or we could end up doing something you might regret."

This was all a very bad idea, that much was true. Davos Blackwood was a very bad idea. But you didn't want to dwell on what the future might hold, let alone the potential consequences of your actions. All you knew was that you wanted more. More of his hands on your skin, more of his lips on yours, and more of him.  

And it seemed that he, too, was eager to take it further.

His fingers made their way up from your waist to your chest, slipping under your tank top to brush his thumbs over the two little hardened buds. The ghost of a touch, really, but it was enough to make you moan. Your mouths were now just a few inches apart, your breaths mingling, but you didn't want to kiss him yet, choosing to prolong this delicious, exhilarating tension for a few minutes longer.

"Do you have any idea what you're doing to me?" he asked, his voice hoarse with desire. "Do you feel it?". He backed up his words with action, rolling his hips and planting a kiss right at the corner of your jaw. "You know what this is?" he added, rolling one of your nipples between his index finger and thumb, "what happens to a man when a woman behaves the way you do?". Of course I know, you wanted to say but the words stuck in your throat and only a moan managed to break through the barrier of your lips. You weren't stupid, you were perfectly aware of what happened in this kind of situation. But you'd never seen it, let alone touched it, and the theory was very different from the actual reality.

"Shut up," you replied at last, before planting a kiss on his lips. You didn't mean it, though. To be honest, you wished he would talk to you like that all night long, sending a wave of heat straight to your core with words alone. His tongue found yours, silencing your thoughts, and you wrapped your arms around his neck to keep from losing your footing. "Such a foul mouth," he said, smiling against your lips as he gave you time to breathe, "we'll see if you're still so talkative once I'm done with you."

The young man's hands found the bottom of your tank top and pulled it over your head, and soon it was your shorts that suffered the same fate, leaving you in nothing but your black lace panties. You suddenly felt exposed, lying there under that hungry gaze that regarded you like a precious gift, a prized possession. You waited eagerly for his next move.

Where was the bold young woman who had taken the lead just a few minutes earlier, the one so determined not to lose control? It seemed like she'd already vanished, replaced by some shy creature beneath his crude words and inappropriate touch.

"What are you going to do to me?" you tilted your head to the side to give him better access to the skin of your neck, which he was kissing with increasing fervor. "Nothing you won't like," he replied as he stood up to get rid of his t-shirt, which joined the pile of clothes at the foot of the bed. Your eyes couldn't help but wander over his toned torso dotted with dark hairs, your hands itching to touch him.

Soon enough, his lips found your jaw, then your neck, then the top of your chest, and you immediately shivered. The weight of his body lying on yours was delightful, comforting. "Please..." you whimpered as your hands settled on his shoulders, urging him to give you what you were so desperate for. You felt his fingers slide slowly against the skin of your belly, then lower, much lower, to play with the lace of your underwear, and your back arched almost reflexively. You wanted more, you needed more, and you were getting tired of waiting.

"Be patient, princess," he said, nibbling on the soft skin of your breast, his mouth soon wrapping around your hardened nipple. A grunt escaped you, and you weren't quite sure if it was from your frustration or the dominant tone he had just used. His hand slipped under the fabric of your panties to tease the top of your slit before brushing over your already soaked folds. It was annoying, really, the effect he was having on you with such a light touch. But it was heavenly, and you had decided to ignore the voice of reason for the night.

His index finger found the little pearl nestled at the apex of your center, and the contact felt like a delicious electric shock. You threw your head back, eyes closing, lips parting in a silent cry as he drew little circles around your most sensitive area. "Have you ever had anyone here?" he asked after a few seconds. When you didn't answer, he added: "I asked you a question, and I want you to answer me." There it was again, his commanding, almost controlling tone.

"N... no," you stammered as you opened your eyes again to meet his, "nobody." You suddenly felt like prey under his hungry gaze that devoured your trembling body. "Perfect," you heard, just before his fingers found your entrance, which was already clenching around nothing, "and here?".

The idea of being the first to enter you seemed to obsess him.

You nodded, this time from left to right, signifying that no, you had saved your virginity for the right man, the one who would know how to make you tremble under his ministrations, the one who would know how to make you beg for more, always more.

"Perfect," he repeated again, as the first knuckle of his index finger sank agonizingly slowly into you, teasing your inner walls. It was barely there, nothing really, and yet you already felt incredibly full. "You're so tight," he growled against the skin of your throat, "so warm too, you're going to feel amazing around me." He added a second knuckle and soon his finger was completely buried inside you. It felt good, and it felt right, but it didn't feel like enough. You wiggled your hips and it seemed as if Davos had understood your silent request immediately. "I need you to take another," he straightened on his left elbow to look at you with lust-blown pupils, "do you think you can do that for me?". Once again, you nodded your head in agreement, but this time it didn't seem to be enough for him. "Use your words, princess." You fought the urge to roll your eyes. "I... I can take more," you murmured right against his lips as you looked down between your thighs.

"Good girl," he said, his voice low and rough as you felt his middle finger pressing into you. He curled them both, brushing that spongy spot against your inner wall, and you threw your head back.

You dug your nails into his pale skin to stay anchored in the present as his thumb found your clit. But you knew you wouldn't last long. You could already feel tingles of pleasure buzzing through your body, and in the pit of your belly, the fires of delight burned a little more fiercely. You wanted to warn him, to tell him you were close, but he was quicker than you: "Come for me."

He didn't need to tell you a second time.

Soon, the wave of your orgasm washed over you.

It made your whole body shake with spasms, your climax exploding like fireworks behind your eyelids. Your lips crashed against his neck to stifle your final moan as your back arched under the intense sensation. The young man was merciful enough to give you a few seconds to recover before withdrawing his fingers, leaving you empty and frustrated. "Look at the mess you made," you heard him groan, "clean it up." His index and middle fingers brushed across your lips, which parted eagerly to welcome them into your warm mouth.

You timidly wrapped your tongue around them under his predatory gaze. The mere thought that you could taste yourself on your taste buds set your body on fire once again. It was indecent, inappropriate, and you probably should have been ashamed to be used like this, but you couldn't care less.

Maybe it was his fault, or maybe you'd just found each other despite everything that kept you apart.

His fingers left your mouth to wrap around your neck. But as he lay back on the mattress and guided you towards his lips, you resisted. Once again, you straddled his hips, only this time completely naked. He looked at you for a few seconds, a little confused, until you reached under the elastic of his underwear to slide it down his legs. This seemed to make him realize the extent of your intentions. His hard member jumped free and caught your eye. Standing proud with a mass of dark curls adorning its base, the sight alone made you salivate. "Let me thank you," you said, as your fingers gently traced its length. "I want to make you feel good too." You slowly moved between his legs to kiss his inner thighs.

You reached out tentatively and wrapped your fingers around his manhood. It felt heavy in your hand, massive and your index finger couldn't quite touch your thumb because it was so wide. You brought your lips to his crotch and, watching Davos from beneath your long lashes, planted a quick kiss on the head where it was already weeping for you. Your tongue traced a vein on the underside without ever breaking eye contact. He threw his head back, his lips parted to let out a muffled curse.

The rush of power you felt when you saw him so vulnerable under your touch was sinfully delicious.

You tilted your head to the side to plant a series of kisses all along his hardened manhood, your big innocent eyes still locked with his. There was a pause, a few tense seconds, before finally, finally, you moved your head forward to take him fully into your mouth. His big hand found refuge at the back of your skull, and you let him guide you completely.

The grip on your hair tightened, almost to the point of pain. "Breathe, through your nose," the young man ordered, but his voice was more urgent than before, his breathing becoming ragged from the growing pleasure. "You can do better than that." The fingers buried in your locks soon forced you to swallow him whole, your nose pressed against his pelvis, the unruly hair tickling your face. You could feel yourself drooling around him, the action messy. "Such a filthy girl," he said as his thumb came to caress the corner of your mouth, right where his member disappeared between your lips, "sucking my cock like a real whore." You let out an audible moan around his length in response to the foulness of his words.

But instead of disgusting you, it only served to encourage you.

You hollowed out your cheeks, still following the rhythm of his hand, which had resumed its place at the back of your head. He was big, and he filled your mouth in a way you hadn't experienced before, but you wanted to prove to him that you could satisfy him, that you could make him proud. Tears formed at the corners of your eyes, which he hastily wiped away with the tip of his free thumb. "Shh... you're doing so well," he praised you in a reassuring tone. You knew he was close to reaching his climax. His breathing had become labored, his movements erratic, and it was evident that you were causing him to lose his balance. But it seemed he didn't want to end it that quickly.

"Wait, not yet," he straightened into a sitting position, placing his hand on your cheek to force you back a few inches, "I'd hate to waste it." The implication made your cheeks flush, but you couldn't help but look forward to what would come next.

His hands came to rest on your waist, encouraging you to sit on his hips again, this time making his still impossibly hard manhood brush against your soaked cunt. The contact alone was enough to elicit a moan from you. His own fingers wrapped around his member as he guided it towards your narrow entrance.

And after what felt like an eternity, he finally thrust into you.

He stretched you to perfection, the foreign sensation a mixture of delicious pain and aching pleasure. "Fuck princess, you're tight," your head found refuge in the hollow of his neck, but you could hear that annoying smirk in his voice, "I'm going to ruin you." And oh how you couldn't wait for him to make good on his threats. "Move," you pleaded against the skin of his throat as you hesitantly moved your hips up and down to get that delicious friction you craved. He seemed hell-bent on teaching you self-restraint, even though you desperately wanted to see him lose control. He grabbed your waist in a firm grip, keeping you pressed against his hips and making you whine. "Did I say you could move?" he asked, kissing the side of your jaw. Once again that night, you'd annoyed him by not answering, and he repeated, "did I say you could move?".  

It seems he was also trying to make you learn obedience, in addition to patience.

You didn't even have a chance to react before the young man used his grip on your waist to pull back almost completely, revealing his member glistening with your sticky juices before thrusting himself into you once more. His head was rubbing against that most delicious spot inside you, making your legs tremble with pure bliss. "Please, I..." You didn't even know what you were asking for as he moved back and forth continuously. You thought he'd ask you to speak again, but he was too caught up in pleasure and close to his release to be bothered by your pleas.

But even if he'd lost his rhythm, it was clear he was still determined to satisfy you. His thumb was back on your little pearl, tracing small circles around it, while inside you his length relentlessly pounded against your inner wall. You could feel yourself clenching around him, and the heat between your thighs was back with a fiercer intensity than ever. “I’m going to fill you up,” his teeth nibbled at the soft skin of your neck, marking it possessively, “I’m going to fill you up and you’re going to take everything I’m going to give you, feel me for days.” The moans that came out of your mouth were now completely incoherent, a confused jumble of yes and please.

Your climax hit hard and fast—stronger than the one Davos had offered you earlier that night. You dug your nails into his shoulders, leaving red half-moons as evidence of your forbidden actions. Your back arched off the mattress, pressing his body against yours as reality slipped through your fingers and a myriad of stars danced behind your eyelids. He followed you just a few seconds later, pouring into you with white ropes.

He stayed inside you for a few more moments, his length softening. But neither of you felt like moving, not when you were so comfortable, lying against each other, your limbs tangled. He placed a tender kiss on your forehead that made your heart clench. You still refused to think about the future and the problems that might arise from such a strong connection between the two of you. All that mattered for the moment was his skin against yours and your fingers in his hair.

"We should do that again," you murmured as you kissed his cheeks, his chin, his nose, "someday."

He smiled.

"We will," he said with confidence, "I'll make sure of that, princess."

The nickname made your stomach flutter with excitement.

[clawsdevour]

how many floors left

wc: 1.7k content warning: public sex, smut, fingering, kissing, established relationship, not proofread, multi-fandom x reader

•°. *࿐

Entering your workplace which is a big tall glass building with about 70 floors, you come in your professional attire daily. Hair and makeup nicely done, wearing your pencil skirt, an ironed blouse and black stockings which matched with your shiny black heels. The jewelry you picked today complemented your eyes and matched the rest with your outfit. You worked under the CEO of the company, as his assistant. Little did the whole company know that you were secretly dating him.

Dating at work was strictly prohibited to ensure that the work environment is productive, and not filled with gossip and toxicity. You crossed over a few rules with this. One, you started dating one of the people you have to engage with on a daily basis at your workplace. And two, the person you were dating is the CEO, the person you work the most with. It was like he was bending the work rules for you. However, you both were able to put up a front where you’re both completely professional on work grounds. But not whenever you were in his office with him alone.

You scan your ID card to clock in before heading to the elevators. You noticed how unusually empty it was that day. Am I late, or am I just way too early for today’s scheduled meeting? You pondered to yourself for a moment. Usually to prepare for meetings you decide to come at least 20 minutes earlier than when the gathering is held. It’s normally bustling at that time, with some people here asking to clarify the documents and some people still finishing up their papers. About to press the call button for the elevator, you hear a clicking sound coming from behind. A male figure was walking towards you and the elevator you’ve chosen to use even though there were plenty available. His finger touches the button before you could hit it. Looking up with a stern look on your face to see who beat you to the race, it was no one else other than your boyfriend who you’ve been dating in secret.

“Good morning, Miss. I see you’ve come earlier for today’s meeting,” extra emphasis on the Miss to toy with you. He’s holding himself back from smirking to keep it professional in case anyone's around. He cleared his throat, turning his attention to watch the number of floors race down to your level.

“Morning Mr. CEO. I see you also came early but what for? I’m the one who’s preparing the meeting for you,” you’re looking at him like he’s got something up his sleeve. Typically he comes to the meeting right when it’s starting, you never see him come early because you actually do your job right.

“Just wanted to help. I’m your boss overall, I’m here to help you submit your work to me,” he chuckled. Rolling your eyes, the elevator stops at floor one. Smoothly opening its doors upon entry, you both step in. 

About to click the same floor, he exchanges a look that says You can press it. Returning the favor, you press it for him. The meeting was located on one of the top floors of the whole building, floor sixty-nine. The doors closed, creating that gravitational pull as the elevator is about to take off into the air. You stood shoulder length apart with your boss.

“Sooo… now that we’re alone would you mind telling me why you’re such a tease this early morning? What did you do before getting here..?” Naturally you’re curious why he was in such a good mood, this early. Usually he’s the grumpiest and coldest person alive in the morning. You pondered, He must’ve done something devious, but what would he do before even getting to work besides eating and getting dressed? Catching his attention with your words, he looks down at you, practically beaming with joy. 

“Because I wanted to come early to.. I don’t know.. get some alone time with you, since you know.. the rules, even though I’m basically running this company” he’s stepping towards you, making you walk into the wall backwards. Your ass touches the handrail of the elevator leaving you nowhere else to run. His actions have your mouth parted in surprise. You always thought he didn’t even know his own rules, he’s just a man living carefree while running a big company. 

Finger on your chin, tilting your head up so you’d look at him. His sinful eyes narrowed looking into your eyes. You’re starting to turn a light pink hue as you grasped onto the handrail, as if it was gonna help you achieve anything. 

“Do you really want to do this.. at work?” Both of you are very aware that there’s just a one in a million chance of getting caught this early in the office. You just have to pray that no one’s already on one of the floors pressing the button for their departure. 

His lips lightly brush against yours, a simple peck that you wanted more of. He knew that of course. Noticing that you’re currently at floor 17, it was gonna be a long ride up and you both had time to waste while you stood in the traveling structure. Pulling his head down to meet yours with your hands, your lips meet once more. His hands tightly gripped your waist to draw your body closer to his as you two shared a long passionate kiss. Sliding your hands down to his shoulders, you held onto him as you sloppily fought with tongue for dominance.

His right knee gradually started to come in between the soaring heat your legs produced. Slamming you down against the wall for support as he started to rub his knee harshly against your stiff pencil skirt, getting it to scrunch up at your waist. Enough to edge you on, he’s grinding his knee against your damp and sensitive clothed clit. You can’t help but moan into the kiss, sparking more arousal to catch onto your panties. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you part from the kiss, head laying on his shoulder feeling the sensations he’s creating from under. He’s kissing the crook of your neck. Fluttering your hazed eyes, you were currently at floor 24. Getting a lot of fun before prepping the company meeting in a timely manner that’s worth the same time as traveling seven floors up, not bad. 

Your worries and concerns dissolved when he put two fingers on your clothed cunt. Feeling your wetness increase due to the thrill, he snickers at you.

“How many floors have we got left baby?” Whispering in your ear, his hot breath makes your skin flinch. You squint back at the small digital screen displayed above the buttons. 

“Umm.. 39. Wait no, 36 floors. Well it’s moving up,” enjoying the adrenaline he plants another kiss on your lips. 

“Haha, that’s so much time to let us get down.” Looking down, you feel a slight tug on the sides of your panties. His hands were at work pulling them down just enough to have your bare cunt exposed, leaving you to quiver as the chilled office air touched your wet pussy. His fingers on your clit, you’re holding on to his biceps covered by his blazer as he moves his digits in slow small circles. Breathing out whimpers of pleasure, he kisses your collarbone, inhaling your scent. 

“I love the smell of your perfume. How do you smell and look so good every morning? I know I don’t show it, but whenever I see you running around the office I can’t help but stare. You’re so beautiful, you know that?” He cooed, increasing the pace of his fingers that traced your clit multiple times with no end. You’re whining, trying to push his right arm off your clit, overstimulated. 

“We’re nearing.. floor 50 M-Mr. CEO” stuttering, high off the pleasure. You can’t help your legs as they start to twitch and shake from him teasing your swollen clit.

“Oh, please.” Resisting your hands that try to push him back, he plunges his fingers into you. His left hand takes your weak grip off him, leading you close to his freshly shaven jawline, landing a kiss on your knuckles. 

“I’ll make you finish before we arrive,” giving you a defiant look, he finds your sweet spot. Your back arches against the traveling elevator wall as he pokes and curls his fingers inside you. Secreting more fluids that started to drip down onto his knuckles, the squelching noises grew audibly. His head was slightly glancing over his shoulder to count down how many floors were left. Currently, at the 59th floor of the building. Feeling the sparks grow unignorable down there, the build up from the pleasure started to occur, your orgasm was awaiting to be unleashed. 

“I.. I’m gonna.. gonna, cum..!” Pulling your head back as you surrender yourself to the pleasure, soft kisses being planted on your jawline. His speed increases rapidly probing at your incoming release, creating a line of milky white froth on his fingers. 

“Cum for me, Miss. On my fingers. I want to feel you clench tightly around my fingers when you cum,” were the words you heard come from his mouth when you orgasmed. Your legs twitched as you felt the gravity in the elevator shift, coming to a halt. Shit. Why did the elevator come to a stop? Your mind was blank, trying to recover from the slightly numb sensation and regain your composure. 

Looking at the floor number, you were only on floor 66. Did someone come in earlier than you to also prepare for the company meeting? He’s looking back with a shocked look of worry flashing in his eyes. Covering your body and exposed bottom with his big build, he puts both his hands at the sides of your head, against the wall as if he’s shielding you from the door. His face screamed out, It’s gonna be okay, you’re not to be blamed. You’re breathlessly trying to look behind him, gazing at the elevator buttons, then with the floor number trying to figure out why it stopped moving. 

You see the elevator doors open where you make eye contact with your coworkers as they peer back at you, as well as the imitating male figure that’s facing towards you, the CEO.

*.༄ TETSUROU KUROO, MIYA OSAMU, TOORU OIKAWA, SATORU GOJO, SUKUNA, KAMO CHOSO, SUNA RINTARO, HAWKS, TARTAGLIA, WRIOTHESLEY, TENGEN UZUI (ALL AGED UP/POST-TIME SKIP), and of course any of your favorite characters!!!

masterlist here

[loafgeto]

KINKMAS DAY THREE: BONDAGE WITH KENTO

synopsis | you can’t seem to take your hands off your husband while he’s working on an important project and taking calls. so, what better form of discipline is there than to tie you up and fuck you until he can’t anymore?

contents | fem!reader, she/her pronouns, explicit language, established relationship between reader and nanami, husband!nanami. NSFW, restriction/tied to the bed, mentions of masturbation, blowjob, slight gagging, praising, fingering, teasing, dirty talk, overstimulation, unprotected sex (p in v), deep penetration, edging, creampie (a big one), orgasms and squirting multiple times, spanking, pet names, size differences, fluff?? at the end, not proofread!!

word count | 4k

notes | i want him to tie me up just like this 🤭

tags | @aydene @biscuitsngravie @homeslices @tiredkitten @get0sfav @erensflies @bleachisfood @witchbybirth (if you want to be tagged, just let me know!)

you sigh out of frustration, rolling from side to side in your bed and scrolling through social media on your phone, seeking for something entertaining. your husband was currently occupied, working on a project and taking calls in his office. to say that you miss his touch wasn’t an understatement— in fact, he hasn’t even touched you in weeks.

kento’s a diligent worker at his company, earning respectable positions and receiving a plausible salary, so it’s expecting of him to take responsibility of large projects and completing stacks of unfinished documents. it’s another night where he’s working on something rather important— so important that when he returned home hours ago, he immediately engulfed himself in his office.

it’s difficult not to bother kento— since, this routine has been occurring for several days in a row. by the time kento finishes for the night, you’re already in a deep slumber after waiting for him. and by the next morning when you awake, he’s already dressed and about to leave the house. it upsets you, of course, because you want to spend at least some time with your husband.

there’s a distressful situation happening with the marketing of his company, along with many others which was why he was so preoccupied and strained. problems like that don’t necessarily fix over a short span of time.

you try to fall asleep— or, force yourself to sleep. but the ache between your legs and longing for him was tremendously bothersome, and your toys weren’t much of a help because they just weren’t kento. groaning, you decide to do something that you probably shouldn’t do. it has you leaving your bed, tiptoeing towards the closed door of kento’s office, having you quietly opening the door and poke your head in as he’s speaking with the secretary of his company.

kento’s eyes shift from his computer to you immediately, and his words trail off when you step inside. the way you’re dressed in a short silk dress, kento knows you’re wearing nothing underneath but an underwear. he knows he shouldn’t be distracted by such alluring sight of his wife, and he firmly tells himself to concern about the situations of his company. but he just can’t keep his eyes away when you’re slowly walking behind of his chair.

“hey baby,” you whisper, lowering your face to plant a kiss against his cheek and draping your arms around him. your husband acknowledges you with a smile and quick nod, directing you to his phone that indicates he’s chatting with someone. you gave him a frown, gently caressing his chest while keeping your face next to his.

“not now, sweetheart,” kento replies when pushing away his phone from his ear. he gives you a peck on the lips, hoping it’d be enough to strip you away from him. but he can’t deny enjoying the feeling of you raveling around him, acting so needy for him even when aware that he’s occupied.

but knowing you, you’re too touchy, continuously clinging onto him even when he tells you no more. kento rubs circles against the palm of your hand, feeling your soft and delicate skin that he realizes he hasn’t felt in what seems like a long time. your hands travel down his chest, towards his tight abs beneath the layer of his buttoned up shirt, and back up to his biceps.

you gradually move underneath his desk, facing him on your knees with a smile as he tries to remain stoic with his boss. kento can feel blood pumping fast to his dick, tightening beneath his pants and causing him to sweat a little. your gentle caresses on his thigh was sending him over the edge— he hates how you’re messing with him like this, but he doesn’t stop it.

kento knows he hasn’t touched you in weeks, or even felt you touch him like this. he misses it— more than you think. nearly each lunch break, he’s always in the bathroom, sitting on the toilet with his hard cock in one hand and his phone in the other, playing those lecherous videos of you he’s saved over the years. he’s never admitted such action to you before, not that he was embarrassed to, he just chooses not to. pumping his length, he always imagines it’s your hands. it’s aggravating because he doesn’t end up finishing and has to return back to his shift.

however, you’re under him now— giving him the sight he’s been thinking about for weeks. he holds his breath when he feels your hand brush over the bulge of his pants, nearly grunting from the way you smirk at his reaction. unzipping his pants, you free his cock and grasp it around your hands.

kento nearly gasps out loud, choking back his groan as he feels your small hands stroke several pumps on his length— his pre-cum leaking out already, being spread around his swollen tip with your thumb. he loves the way you look, the way you’re so small compared to him.

“are you still there, kento?”

“yes— i am, sir,” kento firmly replies, glancing down at you as you kiss his tip with your soft lips. it sends vibrations throughout kento’s body— making his cock twitch in your hands. you smile, almost devilishly. “i-i apologize, can you say that again?”

“i said…” his secretary continues to speak, but kento’s attention was already drawn away when he feels your warm mouth slowly take in his throbbing cock. you bob your head slowly, panties getting more soaked from kento’s reaction— your desire for your lewd imaginations to become true was happening; which is also why you’re here in kento’s office, bothering him even though he’s working on important tasks. “..i think if we discuss this tomorrow at the meeting, we can potentially see increase in sales despite the corrupt marketing.”

“yeah, yeah. sounds good..” kento utters past his low groans, not even knowing what his secretary just explained as his attention is occupied on the feeling of your mouth sucking him in, wet tongue drooling over his cock and your hand giving sensual pumps. his cock throbs in your mouth, making you moan at an instant.

“mm- i’m so wet, kento,” you whisper and gaze up at him once you pop his dick out of your mouth, pressing his redden tip against the side of your lips while still pumping his length with a hand. something in kento immediately snaps, mainly due to your expression and your words. he’s about to lean forward, when the voice of his secretary cuts him off.

“did you get that down kento?”

“uh yeah.. i did,” kento replies to his secretary, watching intently as you return your mouth around him— already bobbing your head to push his entire cock into your mouth. well, he didn’t write anything at all, let alone hear what he was supposed to write down. while his secretary proceeds to talk, kento mutes himself, finally letting out his groans. “fucking hell- sweetheart. didn’t know that mouth of yours could take my cock so well now.”

you moan as a response, bobbing your head faster and slurping his cock deeper into your mouth. kento grunts, a hand lowering to grasp your hair as his head falls back. “f-fuck.. shit.. you’re doing s’good, sweetheart,” kento praises, gently nudging his fingers into your head.

every bob of your head you make causes kento’s core to stir. the dirty and wet sounds of your mouth sucking and licking his cock gradually driving him towards his climax. watching your small mouth pulsate around him was enough for him to cum— and you know he’s almost there. especially with the way he’s moaning louder and ignoring the calls of his secretary annoyingly inquiring if he’s still there— to the way he’s gripping his phone hard enough that it’ll smash into pieces— to the gentle pushes on your head to nudge his tip against your throat.

you gag, almost slightly, mouth quivering from being unable to take him further in. you look up at him, nearly causing kento to bust. “c’mon princess, keep going. keep taking my cock into your mouth like that,” kento continues, gently caressing the side of your cheek. “fuck, i’m about to cum.”

with that statement, you push your mouth away before wrapping two hands around his girth. with your mouth open, you place his tip on your tongue, pumping his cock to catch his cum. kento groans, eyes squinting as he uses the hand once on your cheek to grip the armrest of his chair. he’s close, nearly about to ejaculate all over until you stopped.

“babe?” kento grunts, giving you a confused look as you pull away from him completely, releasing your hands around his cock. you give him a smile, indicating you’re not letting him cum that easily before standing up. kento’s expression turns to a state of disbelief, brows furrowing as he watches you walk away.

“good luck on your work, honey~” you stick your tongue out at him as you give him one last look, opening the door and exiting with a quiet giggle.

during the session of giving your husband a blowjob, you initially thought about edging him— since you know it’ll bother him more than anything, which causes him to be more distracted from his work. it’s happen before, not on many occasions, but during situations like this— most definitely. in your perception, it’s the only way to get kento away from his computer. besides, he needs a decent break.

after you leave, kento’s just sitting there, upset at how you didn’t allow him to cum. he sighs, already becoming defeated in this scheme of yours. kento’s already going mad at this point, he just couldn’t resist his wife at all.

with another sigh, he unmutes himself, cutting off his secretary who’s speaking, “i apologize, sir. i have to go now. my wife…” kento starts, hand traveling to his pelvic area. “my wife got into a small accident.. i have to help her,” he finishes the excuse, gripping his phone and ending the call before his secretary could get another word out.

kento sets his phone aside, quickly zipping his pants before stomping out of the office and towards the master bedroom. he immediately detects you laying on the bed, flat on your stomach, eyes on your phone and pretending to look at something. with the back of your head facing him, you’re unable to see him enter the room— though you hear the faint sounds of his footsteps.

“babe,” kento calls out firmly, but you don’t reply.

during moments like this, you typically ignore him, intentionally— but for fun, since you found entertainment in your husband’s whiny calls for your attention. however, you didn’t expect tonight to be different. severely different.

“you’re just going to avoid me like that after edging me?” kento’s question rings yours ears, causing you to respond with a short hum. you didn’t turn your head as you smile, only swinging your legs as an act to inform him that it was intentional.

you can feel the bed sink down slightly as kento climbs on, crawling towards your body and hovering over you. the least expected thing on your mind was that he’d grab your phone, gently tossing it to the side and grasping both of your wrists with one hand. you finally turn your head, lifting your gaze at kento as he pulls the dotted pattern tie around his neck.

“kento?” you raise a brow.

“disciplining you for distracting me away from my work,” kento responds, lacing the necktie around your wrists and then around one of the legs of the headboard. your eyes widen, feeling how secure your wrists were together with the headboard, and you watch as your husband slowly unbuttons his shirt. “and how you edged me earlier like that. y’know how that makes me feel, princess.”

“k-kento.. baby-“ you squirm, eyes lifting to your wrists bind to the headboard. somehow, this was kinky— being tied up while your partner gets to do anything to you. your legs quiver at the anticipation of what was going to occur next as kento slips off your panties, tossing them aside before positioning two fingers at your entrance.

kento doesn’t utter another word before pushing his fingers past your folds, sinking them into your heat and slowly thrusting them. your eyes widen at the sensation of his fingers spreading your velvet walls, moans plummeting from your mouth as your head falls forward to the pillows.

"w-wait! kento!” you gasp, yet your husband doesn’t stop at all, fingering your pussy from behind while still hovering his body over you. he presses soft kisses on your shoulder, nearing your ear with a short coo. “isn’t this what you wanted though, sweetheart?” he questions, his raspy voice causing your walls to pulsate around him.

right, this is what you want. what you both have been wanting for weeks now. you moan as a response, shutting your eyes as he prods his fingers far into your cunt, curling against your g-spot and stirring your core. kento never fails to please you, even when you don’t remember the feeling of his touch because of how apart you two have been. and once you do, it’s like you’re falling in love with kento again.

“f-fuckkk.. i’m gonna cum— soon, kento,” you manage to slip out, eyes rolling back as his fingers thrust faster, his palm slapping against your vulva. you couldn’t see your husband’s face, but it was flushed from the way you’re practically a mess underneath him already. his wife tied up in his favorite tie that he had received from you years ago, maybe he might like this more than he thought.

however, kento was pretty serious about disciplining you for such actions— he has his ideas, ways that’ll have you crying, even begging. he thrusts his fingers in a quicker pace when being notified that you were close to your orgasm, smiling wider when the pitch of your moans became clearer, solely just because of his fingers.

“i’m just getting started though,” kento replies, almost in a cunning tone. he’s passionate, especially in bed, and this new persona of his was quite appalling. but it’s likable, since it’s coming from your husband. your walls tense around his fingers as you’re about to cum, gripping the material of the necktie around your wrists, your face falls forward and all you can chant over and over is kento’s name.

“shitshit, ken’ i’m—“

your words pause when he stops, immediately pushing his fingers out just when you’re about to cum all over him. with a gasp, you whip your head around, giving your husband that similar expression he gave you earlier ago. kento smiles, eyes lowering to his fingers that were coated with your arousal ppl he asserts his attention to the tight bulge of his pants, cock still aching from being unable to release earlier.

“y’know how it feels now, baby?” kento questions, a hand lifting your dress further above your ass. you whine, nearly in disbelief because you thought of another outcome when you decided to edge him. but now, your husband’s giving you the taste of your own medicine. was it good? most definitely not because the ache of being edged is upmost unbearable.

“i’m sorry, darling- please-“ those words slip out as kento unzips his pants, holding his hard and throbbing cock in one hand. he gives his length several pumps, not even listening to your quiet cries for him. kento could already cum just from the sight of your pussy right there, but he wasn’t going to give in that easily.

kento lines himself at your entrance, rubbing your clit with the pad of his thumb which makes you whine and instantly shoves his cock into your aching wet cunt. you’re unable to fathom at how big he is, at how perfectly your walls spread to fit around him like it’s only for him— you came without telling him, tears welling the socket of your eyes as he groans and hovers his body over yours.

“already cumming? i just put it in, princess.”

“b-babe..” you can barely perform any audible words when kento starts thrusting his hips. he’s got you in the prone bone position, sensually fucking his cock into your gummy walls pouncing around him. a groan escapes past his lips when he feels you clench around him, slick walls glazing his girth that starts to form sloppy sounds.

the angle grants kento’s cock an imitable and deep penetration, stroking perfectly against your sensitive g-spot that’s steering you towards another orgasm. heavy moans of pleasure leave your mouth after each plunge of kento’s cock, the tears built in your eyes eventually streaming down your cheeks as your husband’s thrusts become rougher.

“my wife all tied up in her favorite necktie and already becoming a mess, what a sight,” kento comments, bucking his hips faster, ramming into your ass that starts creating sounds of skip slapping. he hadn’t felt the warmth of your pussy in what felt like forever— and he didn’t realize how much he misses it. he could dump all of his load saved up for you right now, but with the way you teased and edged him just seems to bother him a little too much.

“kento- p-please- slow down!” you manage to cry out, but he’s not listening to you, and you knew that for a fact because he just thrusts even faster. for a fact, even when he slows down, you know you’ll be pleading for him to go faster. the heavy drags of kento’s cock punishing your walls just happens to feel overwhelming, but a good overwhelming. your cries echo the room, along with the messy sounds of your wet cunt sucking him in.

“ngh- fuck, sweetheart. i’d give you all of my cum right now, but you don’t deserve it,” kento hisses, lowering his face down to press wet kisses on your shoulder. he can tell how much your womb is begging for his thick and warm load, after all— you love whenever he creampies you, stuff you in all that semen that fills your baby room to the brim.

“pl-please, kento! ‘m sorry, i didn’t mean to—“

“you didn’t mean to?” kento cuts you off, jerking his cock deep when you state your words, only causing moans to follow after. he slaps your ass just to hear you cry louder and tighten your walls around him. you want his cum, all of it— you crave for it that all you can think about being able to receive it is to apologize. “i’m—“

“stop apologizing. there’s no need for you to say sorry,” kento intervenes you again, pulling his cock out before shoving it back into your abused hole. at this point, you’re at the edge of sobbing because of how good it felt, how good his cock was since you also missed it so much. you missed kento— so, so much. “tell me. what’s a reason why my princess deserves my cum, hm?”

“i..” you pause as you’re seeing stars, overstimulated pussy and erotic cries only finishing the response to his question. you deserve his cum— because, well, you’re his lovely and beautiful wife. kento smiles, nudging his cock into your deepest parts, stumbling you towards another orgasm you can’t fight back. your grip around the necktie loosens as you’re unable to hold it much longer, all you want is for kento to fuck you endlessly, make you squirt until you can’t anymore.

every noise in the room is filthy: wet, sloppy, rough and loud. kento’s harsh thrusting causes the headboard to smack against the wall, making your quiet neighborhood possibly being able to hear what’s happening to you. the familiar knot in your stomach forms as you peak another orgasm. it’s too much to handle at that point.

“kento- you’re s’big— i c-can’t anymore!” you sob out, feeling him perch your hips up.

“yes you can princess, we’ve got all night. it’s why you drove me away from my work, no?” kento replies, slapping the side fat of your ass. he’s rambling again about you bothering him and his important work, however it’s true and you can’t deny that. “baby- oh god- i’m—“

“cumming again? how many times has it been already?” kento chuckles, guiding you onto your knees before pushing your hips back against his. he’s pounding you, his own climax he’s been withholding nearly about to unravel inside of you. for a fact, kento can control his own orgasm— despite at how it’s disturbing, especially when he wants to cum. but the night’s not over, and he’s not even close to being done with you.

the following hour consists of kento constantly pulling his cock out when you cry that you’re close, only to have you begging for him to let you cum when his redden tip is teasing against the folds of your swollen cunt. he’d flip you on your back as you’re still tied up before inserting himself back into you, thrusting roughly until you release your juices all over him again.

your mind is foggy and completely overstimulated at kento’s pace, and your tears have practically dried up since there’s no more left. all you can see is kento, your handsome husband, pumping his cock into you— along with his hair that’s usually styled up, covering his forehead due to the amount of sweat built up. you can hear his heavy breaths and moans, and your name in between them.

“i’m gonna cum now, sweetheart—“ kento groans, his body practically falling atop of yours as his thrusts become erratic. “gonna stuff your womb with all of it— ‘kay?”

“yes.. yes, kento-“ you whisper out, whiffing the scent of his hair as you’re unable to hold him close to you. “pleaseeeee.. give me all of your cum, baby.. i need it all—“

kento sinks his cock deep in your cunt, finally cumming and painting the walls of your womb with his massive load. there was so much coming out, practically making your husband quiver slightly as his body completely topples against yours. he holds you close as you’re moaning quietly at the sensation of the creampie before you’re both just panting.

your husband’s lips come in contact with your neck and down to your collarbone, and he leaves gentle pecks before he lifts his head to passionately kiss your lips. it’s more romantic than usual— you can sense his hand gently caressing your face, placing all the love he could barely give you during those past weeks. and you smile against his lips, causing him to smile too.

after, kento removes his cock from your hole, eventually watching the cum follow after and drip out, staining the sheets of your bed with the rest of your previous juices. it’s surprising to kento that he could last and control himself that long. would he do it again? definitely not, but it was an experience.

“are you still upset at me, kento?” your voice returns him back to reality and he rests his body on yours again, pressing his face into your chest.

“you think?”

“i won’t do it again, i promise.”

kento snickers, knowing damn well you will on another night like this. “it’s okay. i needed a break anyway,” he replies, raising his head to meet your exhausted gaze. he gives you another quick kiss before brushing his nose against yours. “i love you.”

“i lo—” you halt your reply, about to move your hands when you realized that you couldn’t. you forgot that you were still tied to the headboard. “you don’t get one back until you untie me.”

kento raises a brow, a faint smirk appearing in the corner of his lips as he leans his body away. “what do you mean? i never said we were done. we still have a long night ahead of us, sweetheart.”

well, shit.

LOAFGETO. thank you for reading! please do not copy my work or publish in another media without my permission.

a/n: i’m so sorry guys, i’ve been so busy and i was rushing to complete this fic. IM SO SORRY IF ITS TERRIBLE I WAS RLLY RUSHING LIKE SO BAD. i’ll go back and proofread soon but rn i have sm other stuff to complete :( i hope you all have been well!! im almost on break so i will finally have my attention on my works and will update more<3 thanks for your support, likes + reblogs + shares are always appreciated.

[kkanabel]

caffeine addiction ❃ annoying bakugou ❃ chapter 3 Bakugou Katsuki x Reader / Coffee Shop! AU directory/m.list

⇦ previous chapter - next chapter ⇨

words: ~2.4k

After Bakugou nitpicked at the amount of caffeine you had, he started to give you warning looks when you’re starting to drink too much. It was as if a bartender was watching a patron that tends to drink himself blind-- except you’re drinking coffee and you’re one espresso shot away from a full-blown heart attack. 

Thus, you’re sitting at your usual table with a peach lemonade, tapping your feet on the ground as if you’re waiting for something. It started to become entertaining. When Bakugou looked at you, he saw an angry pomeranian that had its toy taken from them.

When you looked at Bakugou, you saw an evil mother pomeranian that withheld the toy for your own good.

It was strange-- you hardly knew each other. Even then, this rando barista was withholding something that would make him money. All for the sake of your health. It made you want to spend more money at this establishment. You wanted to rain money onto his broad shoulders (that were already covered in designer brands anyway) to show your appreciation for those who care about others.

Or it could just be for legal reasons. You’re pretty sure that you’re liable for your own decisions, but you suppose you could say that his coffee provoked you because it was too delicious…? Likely not. Worth a thought, though. Not really.

You were taking a look at sneak-peek photos of the Masaki show coming up soon. Your aunt was going to be one of the VIPs, and she invited you to come along. She desperately wanted you to be in promotion photos for Masaki, saying “I was telling Masaru about how I have a niece with a face that perfectly suits their brand! I wish you would take the option already! You have such a big opportunity to model for us, but you still insist on doing something else.”

You loved your aunt, but she still pestered you to join the fashion industry with her. While you absolutely loved fashion, the industry was just too much for you. You’ve had your fair share of models gossiping about how you’re a “fashion princess”, having one of the top designers in the world as a relative. Exposure like that is uncomfortable. You didn’t want to get big in the industry just because of the people you’re related to. If you’re going to make it big in the industry, it’s going to be by your own hand–you don’t want to get a big push just because of your aunt. 

You wanted to be fully self-made.

So, you sent an advertisement design to one of your clients, a new dating app called “Kiss, Kiss, Fall in Love”, which “innovated” a way to find love by placing you into a group chat with all of your suitors at once. It sounds extremely stupid. At least your advertisement made it look clean and professional. You pinched yourself for helping out a company with such an idiotic premise, but at least it makes you money. 

Then, you closed your tabs for the graphic design you were doing and then swiped over to your tabs open for a handful of assignments on finance. You have a lot of shit to do today. You also had ideas for your aunt’s new line, and you were going to sketch them out and send them to her by the end of today.

Falling asleep wasn’t a problem, because you had your lemonade, a cup of ice water, and an americano next to you. Going to the bathroom 5 times in one hour may be a problem, but you ignored it in favor of trying to finish your assignment as quickly as possible. You wanted to sketch out those designs now, but you’d be too anxious doing them if you didn’t have your assignment finished. 

Drinking iced liquids during the winter helped you stay awake. You were fucking shivering, but it’s okay. Anything to stay awake. You have to get these things done. This urgency was definitely making your dark circles worse by the day, though. 

It’s fine. You’ll need to put on concealer later, anyway. You needed to hop on a Zoom call with your club members in a couple hours, and you needed to freshen up before then. For now, your hair jutting out in all directions from your messy-ass bun and how crusty you looked was fine. The only person seeing you was an extremely hot guy in the café, but it’s also fine because you’re not going to court him, and this café is basically your second home at this point.

All of this was running through your mind as you worked on your assignment, furiously typing away on your laptop to fill out an extended-response question. 

Seeing you work on your laptop was making Bakugou feel particularly productive today. 

He whipped out his own laptop to sort out details he needed for his father’s upcoming fashion show. His parents wanted him to be there so they could have a photoshoot of their cute baby in nice clothes.

Except their cute little baby was now a 23-year-old man. 

After the show, he was going to be backstage, taking photos with the models so his parents could show him off to their mutual fashion-forward friends. Since Bakugou asked them not to post his photos as promotion, they didn’t. Like you, he didn’t want the attention. But this was a little different–he just didn’t want any fame, in general. He’s already got enough attention on him from the various women (and men) coming into the café to flirt with him. His ego is big enough as it is, and the random people eye-fucking him from across his own coffee shop don’t really help. 

But at some point, he had to ask some of his employees to help him kick out some people that were getting too rowdy, and he wasn’t the biggest fan of doing that. He just wants to live his life without people drooling over him like a piece of meat. Although Bakugou made it seem like he was more proud of his good looks when someone objectified him, it made him uncomfortable at times. 

So, he was glad that you were a new regular of his and not some creep trying to get into his pants. He found himself being a little happier every time he saw you come into the café with hair that looked like a bird’s nest and a face that definitely hadn’t woken up fully.

So, with some typing to give feedback to his parents, he sent them a lengthy paragraph detailing what he thought about the setup for the show. The models’ makeup, the music, and the general vibe of the walkway. 

Next on his to-do list was to experiment with new drinks for the menu. He was getting bored, and he thought that a great way to spice up his life and his customers’ lives was to add a new drink or two to his café menu. Thus, he got to brewing and mixing. In the middle of his work, he saw someone come in from the back. 

“Hey, Bakugou!” came a chipper voice from the girl who was putting on the café apron and bringing the apron’s strings around her waist so that she could see the strings as she was tying them. “Whatcha up to?”

He glanced at Ashido Mina, one of his long-time employees. They’ve been friends since high school, and she helps out at the café from time to time to make some extra cash. Though it was difficult for him to say it to their faces, he was always really grateful for his friends helping him with this coffee shop. 

“Makin’ some new drinks. Figured we should have something new for Christmas–apart from the seasonal drinks we already have.” He looked back down at his work, crushing up a candy cane on a cutting board into smithereens. 

She silently watched him as he sprinkled the crushed candy cane onto the drink next to the cutting board. The drink was in a glass mug and was a creamy brown topped with whipped cream and the candy cane Bakugou just put onto it. Bakugou brought the mug up to his lips and tasted it. Without a word, he gave the cup to Ashido.

As Ashido tasted it, her eyes lit up. “This is good,” she praised, placing it onto the table. 

Bakugou still looked at the drink, putting a hand up to his chin whilst thinking. “It’s not quite right,” he keened, crossing his arms. He didn’t know what to change. He used one of the best chocolates on the market. He didn’t even use the powder shit that tasted like ass! He mixed together a combination of milk and dark chocolate, so it should have added the complexity he was looking for. But for some reason, the drink tasted flat. 

“Mina-san?” From one of the tables at the café, you looked at Ashido with a surprised face. Ashido returned the face, gasping when she saw you. 

She called out your name in realization, walking around the counter to envelop you in a hug.

Bakugou furrowed his brows when he saw that you did makeup and calmed the birds’ nest that was your hair in the short period of time he was talking to Ashido. Witchcraft, he thought. The fact that you even did eye makeup amazed him. Wait– is your hair curled this time? How?!

He watched as you and Ashido made some small talk when she pointed a thumb at him. “Yeah, I work here to help out this dude. Actually, he’s trying to make a new drink for the upcoming holiday season, and he’s kinda struggling. Wanna try the prototype?” Bakugou’s eyes widened a little bit. It wasn’t in surprise, but moreso… fear?

“Sure!” You chirped, making him a little more scared. He couldn’t place his finger on why. Maybe it was because it was unfinished and all you knew about his drinks were perfection? He didn’t want to ruin that idea for you. But before he could say anything, Ashido passed you the mug with the prototype drink, and you sipped it.

He tried to ignore the fact that you drank a drink that a stranger also drank, but the very tiny teenage girl portion of him went, Oh my gosh, an indirect kiss! With me and Racoon Eyes!

“Hm, a peppermint hot chocolate? It’s good, but it could use more complexity.” Out came your response, and you tasted it again. “You should add some coffee to deepen the flavor. Also, maybe flavoring the whipped cream with mint would be a nice touch.”

Bakugou furrowed his brows in confusion. “Coffee? What?”

Your cheeks started to burn a little. It probably seemed you were saying that just because you’re an addict and he knows it. “N-No, I’m not trying to change it into some coffee drink! I’m saying– I normally add a little of some instant coffee to my hot chocolate because it deepens the flavor!”

He thought about it for a moment before grabbing the saucepan with which he previously made the hot chocolate. He tossed in a little bit of instant coffee, then poured it into three paper cups for all of you to try it.

All three of you tasted the prototype beverage at the same time, and while you had a content expression tasting very nice hot cocoa, the expression that Bakugou and Ashido had was one of amazement. “It’s… perfect,” Bakugou said, mystified.

Ashido let in a wide gasp when she finished the rest of the drink in the cup and she turned herself to face you. “...are you a flavor genius?”

You chuckled and said, “No, I’m just a coffee addict."

You were sitting outside on your Zoom meeting while Bakugou and Ashido were lazing around in the café, waiting for people to come in. Bakugou was blankly staring at you. You were laughing while waving your arms around to make a point to the people in the online meeting, and Bakugou was entranced.

When he snapped out of it and turned his head to Ashido, his good mood instantly dissipated when he saw her grinning like a Cheshire cat. A very evil Cheshire cat that is most certainly up to no good.

“Whatever the fuck you’re thinking, the answer is no.” He crossed his arms and glared at her, who was now suggestively wriggling her eyebrows at him. “I don’t have time for that.”

She rolled her eyes at him as she took a sip of her peach green tea on the back counter. “The fact that you knew what I was thinking just affirms my thoughts. Plus! Why not? She’s reeeally pretty, right?” Ashido emphasized her words a little too much, but still kept her voice down in case she was bothering any nearby patrons.

Bakugou sighed and propped himself on the chair in front of the register, nursing a freshly-made latte to his chest. “I’ve got my hands busy with a café and with my parents’ shit. I won’t shoot my shot if I’ve got no bullets.”

Ashido seemed to consider things for a minute, tapping her foot and looking into space. She raised her pointer finger, “But-”

“Racoon Eyes. No.” He glared her down. 

She didn’t back down. “Not even a hi? A meager hello?”

Bakugou really didn’t have time to deal with love. He’s got other shit to do– his parents are still pestering him to join the fashion business, and he’s working himself thin with the café already. 

“You don’t think she’s pretty?” Ashido offered, looking at you sitting outside.

Bakugou scowled. He didn’t want to deal with Ashido right now, either. “I’m not fucking blind. Of course, she’s pretty. I just don’t have time for it.”

Her eyes seemed to start blinging with interest as she squealed, “Bakugou has a cru-” he placed a hand over her mouth. People were looking in their direction, confused. A relationship, never mind pursuing one, is in no way something he wants to deal with. Unless this girl started showing up in every facet of his life or something, it just wouldn’t be possible.  

But the higher powers up there have a funny sense of humor. 

(Ironically, the girl that Bakugou just started pining for had named him a god just a couple days prior.)

a/n: taglist is open! just lmk <3 stay hydrated, cuties! :D

directory/m.list

⇦ previous chapter - next chapter ⇨

[lorei-writes]

HC: Crochet! Princes - Foreign Affairs Faction

Clavis, Chevalier, Luke, Nokto Content Warnings: none Word Count: ~1.3k Inspired by @keithsandwich 's work :)

Quiet. Be quiet, little ones. For what would have happened if humans saw you come alive, with your little crocheted heads and wire spines? Children of yarn do not see eye to eye with those born from blood.

So be quiet.

At least for now.

Clavis

He falls asleep come midnight, so he spends his days wandering in the shadows of his human maker. (Who, as it happens, is now certain that Clavis doll is possessed — how else could they explain the fact that it is him and him alone who is always misplaced?)

A multitude of legends has grown around Clavis the possessed doll. Likewise, rules followed. For the protection of his co-habitants, naturally.

Rule #1: If you see Clavis doll appear in the kitchen while you’re cooking, do not turn your eyes away from the food. Otherwise, it will be magically transformed into gruesome in appearance, although technically edible, abomination.

Rule #2: If you hear the plink of glass out of nowhere, pinch your nose and proceed as usual. If you see any colourful vapours, run.

Rule #3: Say “I adore you to the moon and back, Clavis!” whenever you hear hyaena laughter.

Rule #4: If you see Chevalier doll fighting with Clavis doll — no, you did not. Follow any steps specified by Clavis doll until you’re outside the reach of Chevalier doll. Were you to fail at the task… Clavis doll does enjoy digging in the ground.

Cyran doll is still in the making. As such, Clavis doll is… Well.

His ambition is to find a needle and to add certain “adjustments” to Chevalier doll. However, he’s been unsuccessful thus far – largely because any yarn needles are held within the big tin box of doom on the upper shelf, guarded by a hedonist-doll-hater orange cat by the name of Potato.

An ancient prophecy says that on the day of final judgement Clavis doll with descent from heavens riding on an orange lion. It is highly likely that Potato’s disdain for all things Clavis is what prevents the apocalypse.

Whether that will remain the case is still unclear, as Clavis doll has taken interest in growing plants… including catnip.

Chevalier

Chevalier doll can generally be found somewhere around any large bodies of books — bookcases, attics, perhaps his maker’s backpack (whenever their route leads by a library). That being said, it “conveniently” always so occurs that it’s perfectly reasonable for Chevalier doll to be there. As such, nobody ever questions it.

The people who have seen Chevalier move do not make it far. (Typically not outside the door; provided that they do not execute the instructions of Clavis doll).

The house hosting Chevalier doll is rather old. As such, the primary focus of Chevalier doll is the maintenance of his kingdom, for the benefit of the doll kind. Using his superior wadded (with polyester) brain, he slays mice and moths with toothpicks, unclogs toilet bowls, calls appropriate companies to fix the roof… The list goes on.

That being said, Chevalier doll does indulge from time to time. Not only that! He finances his endeavours on his own!

Can you really be sure the person you talk with online is a person and not a crochet doll? Can you? CAN YOU NOW?!

With the internet at his non-existent fingertips, Chevalier doll can accomplish things no ordinary (meaning lifeless) doll could dream of. An inconspicuous doll by day, Chevalier spends his nights as an editor for an established publishing house — the fearsome Bloody Tiger who will not let the smallest error slide!

His work laptop (and personal e-book reader) is hidden below his makers bed, next to their secret toy box. They do not dare question it. The placement of the device was meant as a threat and it clearly has worked.

Yes. He has his own bank account.

And somehow, a driving license.

Nothing is impossible for the rare genius crochet doll born made every 1 000 years.

But maybe let’s not think about that too deeply. Lest we are to arrive at human-doll hybrids.

Luke

Luke is one of the few dolls who have actually befriended a human.

Her name was Leila. She was the niece of his maker and she instantly took a liking to him. She’d take him out on walks, make clothes for him, sing him songs, feed him pretend honey cakes… and she’d also tell him things. Things she’d never tell to anybody else.

In turn, Luke protected her — whenever she was afraid of demons living under the bed, he’d go and “scare” them away. He’d check inside wardrobes, hush any mosquitoes, bring her cookies after she had already brushed her teeth. He’d keep a flashlight on the ready and he’d do his upmost to present her with shadow theatre whenever she couldn’t sleep while visiting.

However, Leila grew and she continued to grow… and eventually, she convinced herself that she had merely dreamt of Luke coming to life. It all must have been a silly game played by a child bored with yet another visit to her relatives.

That being said, Leila still comes by. She also still plays with Luke, or at the very least takes time to greet him properly and shake his hand. She often brings (now an actual honey) cake and sets a good portion of crumbs aside aside, just for him… Although she tells herself it must be mice that eat it. Surely. Just old mice.

Luke finds it hard to accept this reality. The little girl that has once played with him is no more. He is happy to see her well, however, he also struggles with the fact that their lifespans clearly differ. Luke the doll will go on living. Leila the human is already an adult. She will age, and then… How does one mend humans? What does one do when their stitches become loose? When moths eat away at their cotton flesh and their strange button eyes fall off?

Nokto

Nokto doll is an absolute hit with women of all ages. For… vaguely unexpected reasons, perhaps.

The way Clavis doll is seen as cursed, Nokto doll (together with Licht doll) is thought to be blessed. Having Nokto around supposedly brings good luck during job interviews, dates, social gatherings of any type, and language classes.

Given the above, he is brought… everywhere. Nokto doll enjoys a rich social life. His wardrobe is expansive — how else could he become the high fashion accessory craved by many but possessed by few? Some of his outfits are downright scandalous… not that he complains. (That being said, he may consider it most curious, given the intricacies – or lack thereof – of his crochet anatomy).

The sad truth of Nokto’s life is that he never stays for long with anybody. It may be that he’s grown to accept it, or to even prefer this state of affairs (although he cannot say why that could be the case). He sleeps in many beds, just to be brought home in the morning, to sleep away all day and be back at his post at night.

The secret behind Nokto’s “magical qualities” is that, whenever people aren’t looking, he disappears from the crowd and sneaks in below the floor, to converse with local rats.

Nokto doll is the best cheese dealer in town. And other-things-dealer too, but we do not talk about that. The rat king sees him as a valuable ally and so, his subjects are to do as Nokto commands.

Since one of Nokto’s commands is to avoid his own house of origin, Chevalier doll does not see this situation as a potential threat. Even though Nokto may be actively working to overthrow the major of their town. For what purpose? Well… That still remains unclear, although the recent evidence suggests a certain eyepatch has been crocheted. Who knows, perhaps somebody else is pulling all the relevant strings…

You've seen a typo? Please, tell me!

--

Tag List: @lancelotscloak @violettduchess @pathogenic @fang-and-feather @tele86 @rinaririr @keithsandwich @cheese-ception @bis-enti @claviscollections

Tell me if you'd like to be added to my tag list :)

[ifreakforicecream]

COD MODERN WAREFARE 3 Predictions

Disclaimer: I have never played the games I am just doing this for my own enjoyment (I don’t have 70$ lying around) I am going off of cutscenes, the wiki and other people’s head cannons. I kind of wanna see how this list plays out once the new missions come. (This barbie has to draft 30 sheets of site analysis for a presentation but is doing this instead) I will probably update this with coloured text as it goes

also, lmao mw3 getting revealed by monster energy drinks has the same energy as the previous installments being revealed by Dorito Chips or when hero movies get early reveals from toy/action figure patents.

Graves does come back but only as an operator for the multiplayer games. Conversely, He could be an illegal arms dealer but in hiding (think MacAfee before they found him). Shepherd has a higher chance of going in that direction in my books. Update: he comes back completely unscathed and going by the new trailer he's siding with Farah and Alex? oooo this gonna get messy (28/7/23).

Price, Laswell, or Gaz dies. Sort of a riff off from the originals I’m guessing the writers are trying to find some form of subversion but this is where it's at (oof)

Farah or Alex dies and neither of them finishes what they started. My money is on Farah tbf.

Gaz dying makes sense in the way that he started with wanting to do right by people when he first met and would probably die that way too. or this being a red herring price jumps in for him and dies and then takes his place which seals his fate as the MC of this installment.

Laswell goes out of the way of aiding a mission when she was expected/advised not to.

Laswell gets a protégé that will replace her in a much later installment. It has a shot at being Gaz man just collects good intel.

more female ops? I like to think COD writes them pretty damn well. (at this point my standards are must pass the Bechdel test. which is not a bad benchmark considering its flaws but not great either)(this is also where I found out the first installment of Twilight passes the Bechdel test. go figure)

Gaz replaces Laswell and Ghost takes Price’s place.

Price dies while killing Makarov. or we get him smoking a cigar as he is introed making it a full-circle moment once more.

Ghost trades bullets with shepherd but only shepherd dies. Many have said the reboot plays it safe so I am going off of that assumption here slightly but ik a lot of og gamers of the previous titles would find that satisfying.

In the wiki, it states that the shadow company is disavowed but that might change. I didn’t check the established title (Like if it was private or public) of such a company but there might be a line of succession here. for what they have in assets it seems too big to be disavowed.

we get a partial face reveal of the ghost. It could be something mundane as smoking or a teasing jump cut. it’s just like barely there.

everyone gets promoted: It happened after the mission in the ghost's origin story. It’s a hefty mission they just survived. I would be surprised if they didn’t. with shepherd gone this swings either way. or gets buried under the rug as it is a mission hidden from the public.

Roach gets in the picture. he also wins the IDGAF wars or is second to Price in that regard.

regional operators? They were all over the place in past titles and with las almas this seems the least farfetched. (hoping for some Indian or Nepalis operators woo)

someone from 141 or affiliated gets kidnapped or “killed” but it’s that “lucky death” situation that COD likes to pull like it did with Alex. This happens towards the end or at a start of a mission season.’

Shepherd is the actual villain and they kill off Makarov pretty quick as a subversion of the original title. Again moot, if you consider the potential monster energy leak his face is in red behind price.

price dies, Gaz finishes the job.

this is more of an anti-prediction: the price isn’t gonna be the main character but the most prominent. (also going by the monster leak) ghost was the last game’s MC I don’t think they were married to his POV all that much even though it played a huge role.

ghost dies, and Soap finishes the job. “you wanna be better than me Johnny” or Johnny dies saving Ghost in the final moment.

Makarov operates the no Russian mission remotely and he acts as a clean nationalistic politician, making him more dangerous and will cause international trouble when apprehending him. (a lot of opposing politicians or figures “fall out of windows” in the process.

The ghost team carries over to Russian soil.

141 gets bigger and possibly with pre-existing operators within the game.

shepherd gets murdered by a more evil boi/girl

ghost’s tattoo design has a canonical refresh/update. The grey fleece jacket comes back.

Soap recovers while Ghost hunts for Shepherd solo. (this happens right after the final mission or the bar scene)

Every now and then a COD title comes out with a new game mechanic or a way to play. In this installment, I am predicting laser sights for night missions.

Heavier lean on digital/informational warfare.

we don’t get much about ghosts. RalphsValve said there might be a spinoff personally I don’t this will ever happen but it’s a tossup considering the original investor report saying mobile makes 40% of revenue but the Microsoft acquisition may change things ( also wonder where product collaborations are at on that investor report probably not that sizable but still worth a look). Conversely, he’s ghostie has become a character favorite and the market landscape has changed drastically in the last 10-20 years and he already has source material. BTW I read that Origin comic That poor fucker can’t catch a break. Brother looked so red-eyed when he hit the tarmac when he met Soap.

[twilightmalachite]

VS★PRINCESS - Battle Royale 2

Characters: Mao, Subaru

Translator: Mika Enstars

JP Proofreader: 310mc

EN Proofreader: Asia Blossoms

"Explanation please, Sally~!"

[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]

Season: Spring

Location: Prince Castle (Exterior)

Several minutes later. At the first 4piece venue, known as Prince Castle…

Mao: Well, this should be our venue—

Subaru: Holy crap~! It really looks like a castle! Soooo sparkly~! ☆

I have no idea why, but it’s so crazily extravagant! Hey, Sally~! So what’re we gonna do here?

Mao: I’ve been telling you, 4piece.

Haha, your mood instantly gets better the moment you find something sparkly, huh, Subaru.

Subaru: Well I can’t stay down forever, y’know!

Mao: Right, just like the sun. Thanks for all your hard work.

Anyhow, as I said along the way, I only know about what we’ll be doing at 4piece or whatever as much as hearsay dictates.

You can’t keep asking me to explain so much. Seriously.

Subaru: Right. So um, this 4piece, it isn’t operated by ES for once, right?

Mao: It seems that ES is heavily involved too, but as strictly just a sponsor. They do have a presence here, through investment and supplying staff.

But it seems like the organizer and operator of this 4piece event is some massive overseas company.

It’s called something like Thunderbolt Entertainment. Have you heard of it, Subaru?

Subaru: It’s kinda hard to remember anything for it when all you’re given are some long, roman letters thrown at you, huh? Though that’s to be expected, this being an event centered around an overseas company and all.

Hold on, why am I being asked questions? Isn’t it supposed to be Sally~ and Ukki~’s job to explain things I don’t know about to me? Get it right!

Mao: Why are you getting angry at me… But to be fair, Subaru, you have been in the entertainment industry longer than I have, or at least been associated with it, haven’t you?

You’ve been neck-deep ever since your father was in it.

Subaru: Hehe, I’m glad people have been bringing up my Dad casually as of late. I don’t like it when people talk about it like it’s some sore spot.

But the idol industry’s always been sorta closed off from the rest of the world. We don’t hear much about what goes on overseas, do we?

So even I don’t really know about this kaijuu slash pro-wrestling sounding company, Thunder-something or whatnot.

Subaru: Explanation please, Sally~!

Mao: This kinda thing is more of Makoto’s hobby and forte, though… But oh well~, there’s only me this time.

Thunderbolt Entertainment, often shortened to Thunderbolt, is one of the world’s largest companies.

It appears to have developed around what we call the entertainment industry.

Subaru: Ooh… I think I might’ve seen something like their logo around Japan, actually. On things like toys, and for amusement parks.

I love their logo! It’s so sparkly!

Mao: You would like it, wouldn’t you? I don’t do well with sharp-looking images, and that logo’s kind of garish, like, it hurts my eyes.

Subaru: Kinda like a thunderbolt~[1], you could say!

Mao: Yeah, exactly. Their interests conflict when it comes to ES, or rather the Tenshouin and Himemiya families, so they don't stand out much within Japan.

But from time to time we do outsource projects and the like, so we have done some work associated with Thunderbolt.

Subaru: Right. They did warn us that it’ll be hosted by a big overseas company this time around, so we wouldn’t be able to do as we please as we usually do, didn’t they?

Mao: Uh, I think you shouldn’t do whatever you please at any time. But I guess that’s your personality, or rather Trickstar’s as a whole.

Subaru: He-hem!

…So now, a huge overseas company whose existence had been kept minimal is finally making their big move, huh?

Mao: ES has been on quite the roll lately, so I guess overseas companies can’t just sit by idly anymore.

Although, while ES is making waves within Japan and growing remarkably, it is still a young and newly established company—

As a company, it’s in no way on the same level as Thunderbolt when it comes to size and performance, so… Not anyone in ES can stand on equal footing as, I’d say.

Subaru: So it’s kinda like when a youngster misbehaves and gets a good scolding by a relative’s distinguished uncle?

Mao: Well… I don’t know about that.

Thunderbolt’s a large international enterprise. I doubt it has a personality in the first place.

I doubt they’re here to scold anyone, more like just coming wherever the smell of money is, y’know?

Subaru: What a horrible relative!

Mao: That’s just called capitalism. Though I’m fed up with being at the mercy of that kind of stuff…

But in this case here, it does give us an opportunity.

No matter the company, there are people within it. The more active a role we take at 4piece, the more support we’ll be able to receive from staff that reign from a global enterprise.

Meaning, just one move and we’ll be able to make use of all the foreign connections and whatnot that ES has been building up until now.

Once we achieve that, we’ll have a view of the world that we’ve never had before.

I mean, overseas constitutes a tremendous expanse of scenery, y’know?

[ ☆ ]

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Thunderbolt Entertainment is written in English with roman letters; Subaru's cheekily saying the Japanese word for thunderbolt here, inazuma (イナズマ).

[pumpkinpot]

Black Butler Grinch!AU

Synopsis: Someone is set on ruining Christmas, starting with the Phantomhive household.

Hey this story has actual horror in it. Not this part, but part two does. I have a CW list below this for the next two parts so please check those if you aren’t a horror fan. Part three is also NSFW so please MDNI past part two. 

CW: Sebastian is kind of an ass? No established relationship, but Sebastian is pining quite plainly. Man almost freezes to death. future tw: the grinch is like an actual monster, not the jim carey version.

Pt. 1

Pt. 2 

 Pt. 3 

.  

It was that time of year again. Christmas was always busy at the Phantomhive manor given its toy-making. Even more so given way back when Ciel’s father ran Funtom he founded an outreach program that allowed children to write Christmas letters to “Santa” and send them to the manor. Those received would get back a postcard from the big red man himself with a sweet attached. 

During times of economic struggle, the Phantomhive house could expect an influx of letters. Sometimes it may be the only thing a child receives, and this year was especially brutal.

It was a sweet idea and a never-ending annoyance to Ciel. Carriers stopping by the house to take letters almost every hour, the stacks of postcards that needed the “Funtom toy co, Santa stamp of approval” and of course all the foil-wrapped chocolates. 

Though he never had to lift a finger to help it still bothered him how much space it took up. He’d taken to delegating the servants' kitchen in the lower level to the task so he wouldn’t have to see it as much as possible. You imagined it was a hard time for him without his parents.

So here you sit on the other side of a ginormous pile of finished packages ready to ship continuing on the even larger pile of unfinished supplies around you.

Everyone had a job. Sebastian stamped the cards, handing them to mey- Ren who had a bowl of foil-wrapped chocolates to tack to the card. She would pass it down to you where they would be assembled in an envelope and given to Pluto to lick, Bald to sort into bags, and Finny to bike out to the mail carriers at the end of the property. 

It was a proper little workshop. This had been the norm for weeks, except today.

A blizzard ravaged London leaving the manor buried under a mountain of powder. Mey-Ren, Finny Baldroy, and Pluto were digging out the entrance in prep for guests later in the evening. Sebastian insisted you stay and continue sorting letters. He gave no explanation and offered no room for compromise. 

Though he couldn’t help you either. Ciel would be up any minute and he needed to prepare his breakfast. He sorts his young masters' team sliding you a mug before wheeling the cart away.

The thought of drinking warm tea while your friends were out digging out snow drifts left you with guilt and annoyance. Begrudgingly you stuffed cards letting the tea sit untouched. 

The blizzard continued in spouts of rage screaming through the cracks of the mansion and you waited for a long while for the four to come back. You could only imagine how cold they were. 

Suspended in your guilt for wanting your own tea and the fact that you could feel your fingers, you set the kettle on ready to make them something warm upon finishing their chores. 

Sebastian also hadn’t been back, so you continued with only a crackling fire to keep you company. It’s this way for at least another bag's worth before there's a knock at the kitchen door. 

The workers would have never knocked and no groceries were expected until the evening. You step away cracking the door. 

behind it, a young man in a mail carrier's uniform huddles into himself. “Good evening mx.,” he says, his accent a thick Irish tone. “Finny usually brings out the mail, but he hadn’t today, so I figured I’d come along.” 

You look behind him to the rift he stomped through. “That's quite the trek.” 

His smile is innocent as he waves the worry away. “It wasn't anything too rough. d‘you have some letters for me?” 

Did you?! you look behind you to the three full and ready bags and he sighs. “oh, I think I can take two for now and come back for the rest later.”

You nod. “It’s a stormy day don’t overdo yourself-” the kettle cuts your comment short and you turn away pulling it from the stove. You’d hoped the three would be back by now, and there only was enough water for them, but you reckoned, just melt down some more snow for another kettle. “Do you want some warm tea to take with you?”  

The man looks as if you’d just asked him to marry you. He nods his head, nose wrinkling under a big sniffle. You empty a glass vanilla bottle of its last drops into a separate bowl pouring a bit of your tea and some piping hot water to the top.

He tucks the bottle into his breast pocket, hugging it into his chest. 

As you attempt to pull your hand away he catches it cradling his palm under your knuckles. “Your hands,” he says, lightly running the tips of his fingers down your palms. “You've been busy.” 

It was quite undeniable your hands had seen better days. you look like you’d been playing tug of war with a rose vine. thin cuts were between every one of your fingers and the envelope glue had slowly peeled away at the pads of your fingertips. Not to mention the usual wear of the day, cooking and cleaning.

“We have, yes,” you agree. 

He massages your palms, his fingers freezing as ice. “You better be taking care too if-”

“they are-,” Sebastian says behind you. His tone is flat and looming. “quite taken care of.”

The mailman's once rosy nose flushes with color and he gives you back your hand dropping his to his side.  

“The mail is ready to take. you may be on your way.”  Sebastian's usual politeness was taut and sparing. He got like this whenever you received the attention that wasn’t from him, though he’d never admit it. 

Once a woman touched your hair complementing the curls Sebastian had put them in and he pouted the rest of the night. when asked what was wrong he had only to say. “I don’t like people touching my things.” 

It was an odd thing to say as he’d never considered you his. Out loud. 

The mailman stacks the bags up onto his shoulders with a nod before leaving out the way he came without another word. Sebastian follows, closing the door behind him.

He sighs before something catches his eye. He crosses the room to the counter where your tea, the kettle and bowl of emptied vanilla pull together a cohesive crime scene. “you shared your tea?”

“It's cold out,” you defend, “Given I am perfectly warm it was the least I could do-” 

“That's his job.” 

“As is mine. I am not a poodle Sebastian. Why am I in here instead of helping outside? Tanka is perfectly capable of taking over here.” 

“Tanaka is seeing Mey Ren’s duties. I have my reasons for keeping you inside, none of which involve sharing tea with anyone who comes through the door-” 

“And what are those reasons, Sebastian?” 

He adjusts his gloves, something you’ve come to know is a tell of annoyance or avoidance. “He left a bag,” he says, looking behind you. 

“there were too many to take in one trip, he’ll be back later,” you continue, “are you going to answer me?” 

“That's unacceptable,” He picks up the bag, throwing it over his shoulder. “I’ll take it to him,”

you call his name but he’s out the door before you have any more syllables to spare. 

He doesn’t come back through the servant's entrance, but you know he’s back because you can hear him through the halls. When he does come into the kitchen it’s only to fetch Ciel’s next tea or prepare his scones.

These times unlike the last he doesn’t spare you any of the leftovers. Why you were being punished was lost in three more bags of finished letters and no more chocolates to fill the orders with. 

You have half a mind to pull on your wools and go help the others, but Sebastian stops you in the hallway from your room. “where are you off to?”

“Taking the bags of letters to the property's edge. The others aren’t back yet so I figured I would do it.” 

It takes every bit of strength in your body not to fill the silence that follows with more explanation. You attempt to step around him but he holds out a hand. “I can take them.”

“No need, besides Ciel will need dinner soon.” 

His annoyance is growing, you can feel it in the air, but he wasn’t your keeper and if he was unwilling to give you any valid reason for his behavior then you wouldn’t allow it to affect your actions.

“Can’t you be like other women who enjoy staying inside?” 

The remark took you aback. “If you'd prefer the company of other women, Sebastian by all means take your leave, but I will warn you they do come with their minds as well that will not always align with yours.”

you attempt to sidestep him again but he holds you firmly in place. “can’t you just listen-”

“I have been listening Sebastian and you have given me nothing.” 

He opens his mouth, all his teeth ready to tear into you when a crash from the lower floors takes both your attention. 

“Sebastian!” someone shouts. Mey Ren runs through the halls catching up to you in a cloud of cold air. 

Ciel comes out of the study. “what’s happened?” 

“You have to come see this sir,” she says, turning down the hall again.

In the lower floors, Finny and Balroy have stripped from their top layers both their clothes coddled around a large mass splayed out on the kitchen table. As you inch closer you see the distinguishable rosy nose of the mailman. His eyelids are frosted shut and it looks like he wears no clothes beneath what was spared to him by your coworkers.  

You turn away, lining your shoulder to Sebastian. “I shared my tea with him, Sebastian, this is a slight overreaction, even for you.”

His red eyes widened at the accusation. Ciel steps between you two before anything else can be said. “Your lover's qualm can wait, go see if he’s breathing,” he delegates to you. “Sebastian with me.”

Sebastian's eyes stay on you a second longer before he turns away with his master.

You go to the man and pull back the shredded layers of his uniform. Superficial scratches decorate him in stripes and once he’s out of his top most layers you find the vanilla bottle you’d given him stored against his skin, 

It’s cooled considerably but where it was on his chest keeps to a normal temperature unlike the rest of him. His body fights to keep contact with it as you peel it away. You hand the bottle to Finny, replacing it with your warm hand. 

His body throws itself into a fit of shivers as he clings to you. His breathing is shallow, but it's there. 

“I think that bottle might have saved his life,” Finny says. “Did you give it to him?” He asks you. 

You nod briefly before, pulling your hand around the back of his neck. “Mey Ren, there is a heated glove beneath the kettle and a bowl of vanilla on the counter, will you fetch it?” 

She does so kneeling beside you. You place the oven mit on the back of his neck and hold the bowl beneath his nose and as suspected his shoulder loosens allowing more air to flow through to his lungs. 

Sebastian and Ciel watch from the back half of the kitchen as you work to pull the man's consciousness back to the present. By the time you've finished his eyes are open. Your next worry is his body heating too quickly. 

His gray eyes find you and it brings him a grim sort of comfort. He blinks a few times attempting to separate his lips. They come apart sticky and he coughs. 

“That’s enough,” Sebastian says, “we can take it from here.”

You look up at the pair ready to argue, but as you pull your hand away the man keeps your wrist. “wait.”

Sebastian takes a warning step forward but you stay where you are. 

“He-” He croaks, turning away with a sniff. “You have to believe me.” 

You tilt your head to him with a nod. “go on then.” 

“Yes,” Sebastian says as if a point is about to be proven, “tell us what happened.”

the man’s eyes only go to Sebastian a moment before finding you again. “He was green and large.”

“Pardon?”

. 

CW for part 2: Actual horror. Gore, Blood, Decapitation, Threats. (will be posted dec 7)

CW for part 3: Post Trauma shock, Blood, Smut. (will be posted dec 14)

Also, if you like this content check out my Master List

[spiderdreamer-blog]

Treasure Planet (2002)

The year 2002 was a weird time for the Disney animation studios, to put it mildly. After the legendary stretch of films that constituted the Disney Renaissance-The Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast, Aladdin, The Lion King-the yearly animated offerings were still making money, but they largely weren’t outright phenomenons anymore. Worse, competition had arisen both within and without: Pixar had totally changed the game with 1995′s revolutionary Toy Story, but the fancy new CGI bells and whistles were making more money than the studio’s traditional 2D animation and seemingly had more staying power to boot. Former studio chairman Jeffrey Katzenberg had left to form DreamWorks with legends Steven Spielberg and David Geffen thanks to a highly publicized power struggle with CEO Michael Eisner after the 1994 death of company president Frank Wells. They were succeeding too, with 2001′s Shrek being a (ahem) monster hit in particular. Eisner’s grip on the Magic Kingdom was slipping after this and other costly blunders like the creation of Euro Disney/Disneyland Paris, and he knew it. In the middle of all this, one of the most expensive films in the company’s history, a passion project for directors Ron Clements and John Musker, was nearing the end of production: a sci-fi adaptation of Robert Louis Stevenson’s classic adventure novel Treasure Island. How does it hold up? Well, if you’re like me and grew up with this, Atlantis: The Lost Empire, and The Road to El Dorado on loop, the answer is “I cannot be remotely objective about that”, but let’s get down into the nitty gritty on why this movie rules.

I suppose in one sense, I don’t necessarily have to offer a plot summary. If you’ve somehow gone your entire life without knowing the basics of Treasure Island and its myriad adaptations, I’d love to see the realtor quote on the rock you’re staying under. Disney itself is no stranger to the property as a studio. The book served as the basis for Walt’s first big swing into live action territory in 1950, and quite a good one at that in its surprisingly faithful rendering of Stevenson’s red-blooded adventure. Not the least of which was Robert Newton’s immediately iconic, gloriously hammy West Country accent-fied portrayal of Long John Silver; if you’ve ever wondered why movie pirates sound the way they do, he’s patient zero. And of course there’s Muppet Treasure Island, a childhood favorite that has a surprising amount in common with Planet in terms of some of its adaptation choices (namely, making Mr. Arrow a stern, professional sailor rather than the drunken layabout of the novel).

Where Planet benefits the most is the meta-knowledge one is bringing to the story and updating it to fit within the lines of a modern feature film. Structurally, it’s fairly faithful as we meet Jim Hawkins (Joseph Gordon Levitt, still most famous for 3rd Rock from the Sun at the time) at the Benbow Inn and he obtains the fabled treasure map from Billy Bones (Patrick McGoohan, giving us a great death rattle in about 2 minutes of screentime), thus prompting a treasure voyage. But even in this early stage, there are smart changes: Dr. Doppler (David Hyde Pierce) is a combination of Dr. Livesey and Squire Trelawney so we can cut down on characters, for instance.

And most crucially, rather than a pre-teen, Jim is now a teenaged delinquent whose father abandoned him and his mother Sarah (Laurie Metcalf); the thirst for adventure and Treasure Planet itself is established in a tooth-rottingly sweet prologue, but now we have extra context and motivation in addition to the destruction of the inn. Jim wants to make his mother proud and feel like he’s worth something. Then, when we get to the ship, not only do we get the great reinvention of Captain Smollet in Amelia (Emma Thompson at her Emma Thompson-iest), Silver (Brian Murray) too is enriched by foreknowledge. Silver’s treacherous intentions are laid bare within minutes of meeting him rather than saving that turn for Stevenson’s famous apple barrel scene. But this adds tension rather than subtract. Now we wonder less that Silver WILL turn mutinous and more what it means for his and Jim’s relationship; the apple barrel becomes a lightning rod. He becomes an even more intriguing character as a result, one of the few genuinely morally ambiguous villains in Disney’s history that makes some surprising choices by the end.

If there’s one arguable flaw in the adaptation, it’s the depiction of B.E.N. (Martin Short), a robotic take on Flint’s old crewmate Ben Gunn. He’s a clever idea conceptually, especially with the angle of his missing memory circuit that hides a deadly reveal, and I like his gangly CGI animation. But he fits into a trend Disney was leaning into in terms of trying to recapture the lightning in a bottle that was Robin Williams’ Genie in Aladdin where they hired big comedy actors to come in and riff as the sidekicks so that they could boost the trailers with funny bits and ensure the parents their kids wouldn’t be bored. Sometimes this worked out splendidly (Eddie Murphy’s Mushu in Mulan is as iconic as his Axel Foley or Donkey in Shrek, Rosie O’Donnell and Wayne Knight fit in shockingly well in Tarzan), other times...less so (hi gargoyles in Hunchback and Dave Thomas and Rick Moranis just doing Bob and Dave McKenzie again as the moose in Brother Bear). To be clear, there’s nothing outright wrong with the character as presented. I think Short is a deserved comedy legend who also really needs clear direction so he doesn’t get lost in a sea of hamminess, but this is certainly a better showing of his eager-to-please neuroses than the likes of The Pebble and the Penguin. And he only comes in at the third act point, so there’s less time for him to feel jarring. But he doesn’t feel strictly necessary in retrospect, especially when the movie is already funny in cleverer ways (”Well, uh... thank you. Thank you very much! Well, I have a lot of help to offer anatomically— amanamonically— as-astronomically face smack“), and we have a Designated Kid Appeal Merch Sidekick in the form of Morph. Two feels like pushing it.

Of course, even if the story had been merely okay instead of better than average, this would still be one of the most visually striking films the studio’s ever released. Taking cues from the Brandywine school of illustration, the colors are lush and rich, and the alien character designs are appropriately outsized on such a grand stage. The action scenes are clever and creative throughout, especially the escape from the inevitable mutiny and a nail-biting outrun-the-clock climax.  The CGI integration is a little easier to spot 20 years on, but the Deep Canvas process allows for all manner of imaginative spacefaring visuals, the Victorian-by-way-of-Star-Trek aesthetic (sailing ships in outer space is exactly the level of FUCKING AWESOME it needs to be), and especially Silver’s cyborg limbs married to his broad 2D frame.

Though it certainly helps when you have master animator Glen Keane supervising one of his best performances, marrying the subtlety and grace he’d achieved with characters like Aladdin and Tarzan with the bravado of his earlier villains like Ratigan or Sykes in Oliver & Company. Under his hands, Silver can go from garrulous and brash to quiet menace or reflection in the blink of an eye. John Ripa (recently co-director on Raya and the Last Dragon) has a tougher assignment with Jim considering he’s something of a straight man, but he rises to the occasion with touches like a ‘face mask’ adding to Jim’s brooding nature that gradually fades as he opens up emotionally. Ken Duncan adds another great heroine to his quiver after Megara and Jane in Amelia, especially with the cat-like features, and Sergio Pablos’ Doppler is frequently a comic highlight with his wild gestures and facial grimaces that anticipates the animator’s work on Klaus.

Things are equally great on the aural end. A year after his iconic work on Atlantis, James Newton Howard gives us another great old-school adventure score with Celtic/Gaelic influences that also gets rockin’ at points with electric guitars punctuating Jim’s most awesome moments. Yes, it’s very XTREEEME and 2002, no, I do not care. (YMMV more on John Rzeznik’s “I’m Still Here” musical montage, but I think it’s awesome) The voice cast is also well chosen in its mix of then-current-stars and more unusual talent. Levitt, as with Ripa’s animation, opts to underplay, but he’s far from flat and manages some moving moments of tenderness and anger. Murray, primarily a theater actor in life, goes for the opposite approach, marrying big theatrical emotions with Silver’s larger-than-life personality, but never loses sight of the character and is quite affecting in the film’s denoument. Pierce inevitably brings a bit of his Niles Crane to Doppler, but since that’s one of the best sitcom characters in history, I can hardly complain, and he gets the lion’s share of the film’s most memorable lines, including a priceless Star Trek shoutout. Thompson is stiff-upper-lip dry wit personified, and she gives an interesting tinge to a budding romance in the latter portions of the film. Metcalf only has a few key scenes, but builds an effective portrait of a struggling single mother within them; thanks to her, you really end up rooting for Jim and Sarah to make amends. Rounding out the numbers are Michael Wincott giving a scary-ass pirate filter to his iconic gravel-pit voice as the villainous Scroop (who gets a memorable spin on the typical Disney villain death-by-falling trope), Roscoe Lee Browne’s stentorian bass giving Arrow a do-not-fuck-with-this-guy dignity, and ringers like Corey Burton and Rodger Bumpass as a pair of robo-cops.

Treasure Planet’s story had a bit of a sad ending at first. Unlike the same year’s immediate hit Lilo & Stitch, it was a notorious flop financially, especially given how expensive it was to produce, and hastened the death of big 2D theatrical films at the studio who pioneered them. But it’s lived on admirably, and even with its flaws (I think we also could have done without the fart noises alien), I count it among my favorites. I miss this period of Disney theatrical animation, where strict formula gave way to experimentation and weirdness. We should do that again every so often.

[peaberrymuffin]

Every now and again, I go to a convenience store that's a little out of the way, a bit of a walk from the uptown central. The location means a lot to me. It's right outside of the trailer park where I grew up and when I was younger we would always walk over there any time we wanted. Snacks, video rental, dinner, you name it, it was just a quick walk over there. Nowadays the building is under new management so things like the samosa heater or slushie machine are gone, but the lady behind the counter is very friendly and I like seeing her now and again. They have these surprise bags in stock. Back in the day, they were a dollar and were these waxy paper types, filled with plastic toys and chalky gum and those cigarette stick candies. Obviously not the best stuff ever but I was young and it was a dollar and of course the allure of the surprise bag would always be fun. I tell the lady the same thing all of these years later, how these used to be a dollar, how these used to be paper instead of plastic. Now they're two and a half bucks. But I understand, everything is more expensive now and I like the establishment, I don't mind a little extra for a tiny bit of candy. I bought one a week or two ago, and on this trip just yesterday I bought two. She was helping her daughter learn to read behind the counter and I felt inclined to give her a little more than the two dollars for the Keurig coffee I got. The bag includes Two Rocket sleeves, two PEZ sleeves, three Tootsie Roll Chewies of varying flavours, a carton of Popeye cigarette sticks, five fizzy candies all daisy-chained together, and two Hubba Bubba lollipops; my least favourite, with the gum inside. They even throw in a tiny little plastic toy, this time of a lovely little red lizard. Imagine my surprise and utter dismay when, as it turns out, every single surprise bag has the same stock, even down to the same flavours you're given. My lizard was replaced on subsequent bags with a plastic ring, and in the third, those tacky vampire teeth you hold in your mouth. We live in a cold and heartless world where your surprise bags are actually predictable bags. I didn't expect much for so little money but they can't even be bothered to throw different types of candy into the mix. The company that makes them are affiliated with tons and tons of big brands here in Canada to do distribution and make candy packs for Halloween and all that, but they seriously won't even fill their surprise bags with anything new? Oh well. Suppose I can just, not buy any more. Maybe this is what growing up is like. Learning how much you can cut corners and be deceitful and still pull profits. I wonder if the surprise bags I had growing up were like this, too? It's been so long I can't really remember anymore.

[adamwatchesmovies]

Short Circuit 2 (1988)

In many ways, Short Circuit 2 is kind of a mess. It’s too long, key characters from the first film don't return (and the explanation for why is weak) and several plot threads go nowhere or are needlessly complicated. Nonetheless… the characters have so much charm and the parts that work are so good it wins you over. The first Short Circuit was a bit of a divisive film but if it appealed to you, definitely check out this sequel.

Sometime after the events of Short Circuit, Benjamin "Ben" Jabituya Jahveri (still played by Fisher Stevens) is now a struggling toymaker who lands a huge contract with the help of a street hustler named Fred Ritter (Michael McKean). When the run-down factory they’re using is ransacked by thieves tunneling beneath the building to get to a collection of valuable jewels, Johnny 5 (voiced by Tim Blaney) is sent to help his friend. In a big city with so many distractions and with many looking to exploit the innocent robot, can Ben fulfill the toy order on time AND catch the eye of the beautiful Sandy Banatoni (Cythia Gibb)?

Why does this film has a subplot about a gang who convinces Johnny 5 to help them steal car stereos and another about Fred being tempted to sell Johnny 5 to a tech company on top of the bank plot, the toy deadline, the romance and Johnny 5’s sudden realization that, as a machine, he doesn’t have the same rights as a human being? It’s as if writers Brent Maddock and S.S. Wilson came into the producer’s office with plans for not one, but three sequels to Short Circuit. “Sorry boys, but you only get to make one” they were told. Instead of picking the best ideas and leaving the rest for later, they just decided to include EVERYTHING. On the upside, this means Short Circuit 2 moves VERY fast. If there’s an element that doesn’t quite work, you’re moving onto the next thing before you know it.

Luckily, few elements DON’T work. Once we get into it, the relationship between Ben and Sandy is tender. You want them to get together. As for Johnny 5, he's so sweet and innocent that seeing him reading Pinocchio and Frankenstein, and realizing what those stories mean to him melts your heart. The special effects are once again excellent, largely due to everything we see on-screen actually being there when the cameras were rolling. It’s all puppetry and practical special effects. Sometimes you don’t realize how much of a difference that makes until you see it in action.

Like the first film, this sequel has many hilarious lines to offer. So many that, once again, you’re prone to miss one or two while you catch your breath. Director Kenneth Johnson, writers Brent Maddock and S.S. Wilson lack restraint. There is too much going on and it gets even wilder during the conclusion when the story takes yet another turn but there's one aspect of the conclusion that wraps up the movie so well it allows you to overlook the flaws. It’s a bit of a retcon, as the original Short Circuit clearly established that Ben WAS born in the United States while now, he’s applying for citizenship but where it leads will make you say "continuity be damned".

You don’t need to have grown up with Short Circuit 2 to enjoy it, though you do have to have enjoyed the first. What worked in that film works again here. Despite the overstuffed story and at least one element that hasn't aged well, those anyone excited to hear that they made a Short Circuit 2 will be happy with these results. (On DVD, March 30, 2019)

[barleyo]

Rental Slut.

Montgomery Gator X Fem! Reader (smut)

A/N: Hello everyone! I know this took awhile, but I really put my all into it, so I hope it exceeded, or at least met your expectations. Thank you all for being so patient with me.

Summary: Fazbear Entertainment is now catering to a more mature audience! Lucky you!

Fazbear Entertainment. A household name, yes? Of course! Everyone remembers playing games and eating pizza at their earlier establishments and watching performances at the current one, but even the memories the company created couldn’t save them from losing profits. Things were going downhill quickly and nobody really knew what to do to help. Until one bright and somewhat disturbing employee came up with the idea to rent the new Glamrock Animatronics out for more ‘adult’ occasions. Really it wasn’t a bad idea, the sex appeal of the robots might’ve been what saved the iconic company from its all time low.

Every Friday to Sunday after 10:00 p.m. the animatronics were sent to their green rooms to get ready for their more mature customers. Although not many people were extremely interested in having intimate time with mechanical sex toys, the people that were, paid a lot to live out their fantasies. Some did it for fun, some as a fetish, some as a dare. Whatever the reason, it was costly, and Fazbear Entertainment profited from it.

Considering all of this, it was a pretty obvious choice for things like bachelorette parties, one of which you were attending. Your best friend was soon to be married, and wanted to have some unconstrained fun. The answer to that? Fucking an anthropomorphic robot character loved by millions.

Once your group had arrived at the PizzaPlex, you were starting to get nervous. You’d mostly tagged along to support the bride-to-be, and to not be seen as a stick in the mud, but being there brought on a layer of shame. Wouldn’t it be weird to do ‘stuff’ with a hunk of metal? What if someone you knew found out? What if this turned into a fetish?!

You tried to calm yourself down while entering the building, but your anxiety was very obvious.

“Hey,” one of your friends chimed in, noticing your distress, “it’s not a big deal, (Y/N). It’s just for fun! You don’t even have to do anything, really if you want you can just stay at the bar and drink.”

“Nah it’s fine, I guess it could interesting, and besides, I don’t wanna ruin the fun,” you said.

You all had reached the front desk and were admitted into the lobby. Nobody else was walking around except for a girl heading into Chica’s room, so at least no one you knew was there.

“Alright we’re going to that hot ass bear’s room, are you joining or just hanging out?” Another one of your friends asked.

“I think I’ll wait for y’all to finish and sit at the bar,” you replied apologetically.

She nodded and joined the others while you took your seat at the makeshift tavern. The map bot turned bartender rolled over to your stool. How naïve of you to think you’d get much human interaction here in the first place. After placing your order with ‘bar bot’ you swiveled around in your chair, looking around the PizzaPlex. All of the rooms had curtains covering the windows, most likely for privacy, except for one: Montgomery’s. He was looking away from the window, zoning out completely. Really he looked bored. Maybe lonely? Either way, the expression on his face was enough to draw you in.

What an allusive creature he seemed to be. He was aggressive, loud, and quite intimidating. He wasn’t necessarily a fan favorite, but you thought he was at the very least the most interesting and the most attractive, in an aesthetic way. It’s not like you had the hots for a gator.

Either way, you felt yourself stand up, completely abandoning your drink. A few steps later and you found yourself standing in front of his door. You felt awkward just standing there, what kind of creep just hangs out in front of someone’s door?

Swallowing your pride, you knocked on his door. You reasoned with yourself, it was fine. You were only going to check in on him, maybe even have a chat while you waited for your friends to finish up? You could practically hear the crisp thwack of his head turning to look in the direction of your knocking.

“Hm? Come on in,” he grunted, it was obvious he wasn’t expecting any visitors tonight.

You entered, holding your breath. Each step caused you to be more embarrassed, any closer and you would simply have to turn around and run away. You stopped a foot or so away from him, resisting eye contact while mumbling a greeting.

“Hello? You okay, darlin’?” he questioned, wondering why you were just standing and muttering like a weirdo.

“Huh? I’m…I’m sorry,” you started, “I didn’t mean to bother you, I’ll go.”

He snorted, he wasn’t used to such timid visitors this time of night. You’d be a fun change of pace.

“Aw, don’t go. You think a cutie like you could ever bother me any?” He teasingly asked.

“No it’s not that, I just,” you paused “I just wanted to stay with you until my friends are ready to leave. Is that okay?”

“I don’t mind at all. What a sweet lil’ thing you are,” he gushed.

You shuffled over and sat down, sitting as far away from him as possible. This was most definitely noticed by him. After a few minutes of suffering the distance, he slowly moved over to close the gap between you two.

He fake yawned and stretched, allowing his arms to raise and fall over the back of the couch, close to where your shoulders were.

What a sly dog he was.

He slid his arm lower and lower until it was was wrapped around your lower back. His hand’s coldness sent shivers through your body.

“Oh, you poor thing. You’ll catch your death of cold, shivering like that,” he murmured.

He picked you up and sat you in his lap, curling you up into his chest. His chest-plate was warm, but not nearly as warm as your face was getting.

“That better, Cher?”

All you could do was nod as the heat from your core and face increased. He turned you around on his lap so that you were looking at the window, and each of your legs were on a different side of his right one, and wrapped his arms around your waist, bordering your needy cunt.

He started humming and slowly bouncing his leg. The vibrations from his movement was enough to completely trigger you. You needed to do something about your sudden urges.

You started to slowly move you hips in little circles to match the rhythm of his leg, just enough to offer yourself some relief. Luckily, the small sounds you allowed to slip past your lips were covered up by his mindless humming.

After a minute or two he saw what you were doing and smirked. He thought to ignore it and let you keep going, but the opportunity to embarrass you was too tempting.

“And just what are you doing?” He questioned in a smug tone.

You immediately stopped as tears of embarrassment pricked your eyes. Your face burned up and you looked down at the floor in slight shame.

“No, it was nothing, I didn’t mean to-,”

“Pipe down, you little Jezebel, I didn’t tell you to stop,” he interrupted.

You hesitated for a second, still flustered, but decided to continue at your previous pace.

Without his humming, there was nothing to hide your desperate moans. You started grinding into his hardened thigh, speeding up ever so slightly when you heard him groan at the sight of you.

He let his hands travel up your shirt and slice your bra off with his nails. He then took your boobs into his hands, rubbing your nipples with his thumbs.

This only added to your internal fire and made you pant like a dog.

“You like that, huh?” He said, obviously amused.

You whined in return, “It feels so good.”

He snorted and leaned in to lick your neck with his slick tongue. Hearing your breath hitch only egged him on. He bit into your neck, deep enough to leave a mark. You gently sobbed out at the sudden puncture on your throat.

He lifted his head up and laughed.

“Aw, Sha, did that hurt? However will I make this up to you?”

He grabbed your hips and stopped your movements completely. You whined at the lack of friction on your cunt.

“Oh, hush. You’re getting something better anyways,” he snapped.

He lifted you up and sat you down on the couch, prying your legs open as he dropped to his knees. He grabbed the back of your legs to anchor himself properly.

“Monty, what are you doing on the-“ you asked before you were interrupted by him quickly licking the folds of your pussy. Your legs briefly shook as you adjusted to the feeling.

“Yeah, how about that? Y’like that?” He smugly asked.

“Please,” you started, “can you keep going?”

He didn’t reply, but let his tongue run over your clit, stopping every once in awhile to lick a stripe over your leaking cunt.

You threw your head back in pleasure, releasing all the pent up moans from your throat.

After a few minutes, your hips started bucking and your legs opened further. Taking notice of this, Monty retracted his claws and thrusted two of his fingers into your already overstimulated core. He forced them in and out in a messy rhythm, curling them inside of you.

You clenched around his thick fingers and came on them, panting and furrowing your eyebrows as you rode out your orgasm.

“You look like such a cute slut with my fingers in you,” Monty snickered.

You couldn’t catch your breath in time to respond to him, and him pushing you down on the couch didn’t help.

“It’s a good thing you’re already worked up, right slut?” He asked in a patronizing tone.

“You’re so mean to me,” you retorted in a fake hurt voice.

“Oh, I’ll show you mean.”

He pressed his pelvic plate, releasing a thick, veiny dick. It was leaking a pre-cum like substance.

He lifted both of your legs over his shoulders and slid into your tight hole. You clenched around him, leaving him groaning in pleasure.

“Fuck, gonna milk me dry, yeah?” He moaned and quicken his pace.

“Mhm, yes! Feels so nice,” you said.

His thrusts got stronger and his groans got more and more filthy. Your walls were clenching on his cock repeatedly as you took him deeper inside of you.

“God damn, I’m close, Sha. This little cunt is so perfect,” he cooed.

“Please keep going,” you whined, “I’m close too.”

He mercilessly pounded into you, feeling your walls spasm on his cock only made him go faster and faster. The room filled with lewd squelching noises.

You reared up on your orgasm and could feel a pressure build up in your stomach. You finally released after Monty roared and shot his synthetic ropes of cum into you.

He fell down next to you and huffed out.

“Thank you for letting me stay with you,” you shyly said after a few moments of silence.

“No problem at all, darlin’. I’m glad I got to stay with your cute ass,” he purred.

He stood up and stretched, then helped you gather your things a get ready to leave. Just as you were about to walk out and find your friends, Monty called out for you.

“Hey, Y/N. Before you leave, I just want you to know the curtains were open that entire time,” he grinned.

You immediately blushed and cursed your luck.

You felt him creep up on you, slap your ass and send you off.

“Come back soon, yeah? I’ll see you next time, you little exhibitionist.”

[equizona]

Headcanons for the fnaf 1 and fnaf 2 gang reacting to a child being forgotten after hours?

— CHILD GETS FORGOTTEN AT THE FACILITY AFTER HOURS

Starring: Freddy ⸝⸝ Bonnie ⸝⸝ Chica ⸝⸝ Foxy ⸝⸝ Marionette ⸝⸝ Toy Bonnie

Note: Sorry, but this request broke the rules. This is way above the character limit I have. Therefore, I decided to just do the first gang + Marionette and Toy Bonnie.

๑FREDDY FAZBEAR

He probably handles it the best out of everyone in the original group. The security measures in his system don't actually work for children.

Doesn't know what to do. At first he's a little angry. How could somebody forget their child here? That isn't how it's supposed to go. And how could the security staff not find the kid? He thinks the security staff at this establishment is incompetent.

However, as the company mascot, he's probably the one who freaks you out the least, so he's quick to try and calm you down. He'll try to sing you a song to calm you down, if you're upset.

He brings you to the night guard in an attempt at getting you home, but seeing as the security night guard probably has trauma from them trying to murder him, he ignores it and locks Freddy out. Of course, Freddy is a bit upset about that buy he gets it.

Decides to bring you to the backstage room, and let's you bundle up with some blankets that are thrown around the establishment. Tells you to sleep, and that he'll keep you safe for the night and your family will come collect you in the morning.

Oh, also the night guard gets fired the next day for not helping the child out. Freddy is happy to see him gone, but a little peeved he couldn't do it himself.

๑BONNIE THE BUNNY

Him finding you was a total accident, and pure chance. He probably found you in the supply closet, where you probably hid from the darkness.

He's confused when he finds you, wondering why a child is here after hours. Shouldn't the security staff have gone through the building to make sure that nothing had been lost, like a child? He's also upset about your parents, since they must be pretty horrible if they forget their child.

He's upset so he goes to get that anger out on the poor night guard. Again, leaving the unfortunate soul with a bunch of trauma. After banging on the door for a while, he realizes he probably shouldn't leave a child all alone in a facility filled with a bunch of murderous animatronics.

So he goes back to you, and then proceeds to drop you off with Freddy while he goes back at the night guard. Freddy's the mascot, so you'll like him better either way. And it isn't day time, so he has no responsibility over a child that some dumb, irresponsible parent forgot to get.

๑CHICA THE CHICKEN

When she sees you she's so excited. She absolutely adores kids, but she's sad that you're here after hours. Kids shouldn't be forgotten by the people who are meant to love and appreciate them!

But she has no intentions of making an already bad experience worse for you, so instead she introduces herself with a happy look and watches you stare at her in awe. Who doesn't want to be so close to one of the most popular animatrpmics?

She offers to make you pizza, letting you help her if you wish and you get to pick anything you want! At least the night guard is happy that she's occupied this night.

She spends the entire night playing games with you, doing whatever you want as she makes sure to keep you away from the others in fear that they might decide to harm you. You're a kid and she wants to make the night easy for you, since she knows it must be scary to be forgotten in a big, dark place like this.

She'll be glaring at your parents the entire time when they come to pick you up in the morning, and wishes that you come back. This time during the day time. You're her new, favorite kid!

๑FOXY THE PIRATE FOX

Odds are that you sought shelter in his cove, and when he powers on for the night, he is so excited about you being there. He doesn't even register that it's nighttime and a child shouldn't be here at all. He's been stuck on the cove for so long, 'out of order' and the night guard won't even cross his mind for a single second.

Man, he hasn't been this excited for years! Just like Chica, he's quick to join you in any games you want to play. Hide and seek? Tag? Pretend? He can do it all! He's so happy about the fact that he's getting to talk and play with a child again. He would be crying if he could.

He tells you all about his adventures at sea, letting you be his first mate and everything! He has a wild imagination, so he tells you about all sorts of magical places that you can visit, and eventually when you get tired he'll tell you a bedtime story. Best believe you'll be having the most exciting dreams of your life.

๑TOY BONNIE

Just like Chica and Foxy, he's a bundle of excitement about a child being here. Though he's a little more relaxed about it.

Sure, he knows that it's messed up that a child is here. Honestly, the parents are lucky he isn't wired to stuff lost children in an extra suit.

Well, since you're stuck here for the night, and he doesn't even know where the night guard is, he decides to take matters into his own hands! He'll bring you to one of the party rooms, and tell you that you're free to do whatever you want as long as you stay in the room.

Naturally, he gets roped into the various games that you want to play. He also comforts you if you happen to be scared of the dark. He stays with you the entire night, making sure to keep you away from the withered animations or anyone else that he fears could possibly wish to hurt you.

10/10 would recommend spending the night with him. He's precious towards children.

๑MARIONETTE

So confused when they first see you. Why is there a child here? The facility is dark? It's after hours and they remembered being settle into their box for the night? Chjldren aren't allowed here after hours, right? Did somebody forget the child? Did the security guard bring the child here?

So many questions, but they get zero answers. While Marionette wishes to question you, they won't. Instead they'll hand ask you who your favorite animations is, and gift you a plushie of that animatronic to keep you company through the dark, scary night.

If you answer that Marionette is your favorite animatronic, they'll feel so happy. Rarely are they the favorite, they're just there to play music and hand out gifts to the lucky children.

Marionette will invite you into the box, even if the space is small. They will collect some more blankets from the backrooms, and make sure you're safe and comfortable for the night as the sound of their music box lulls you to sleep.

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Piece by Piece: Halfway Happy

I’m just posting the fic here instead of the former link because god, mobile Tumblr hates me. 

Fandom: Stranger Things Rating: T (for now, huehuehue) Pairing: Steddie Category: Established relationship, trauma, healing, domestic fluff  Series summary: Healing doesn't happen at once, it is like a puzzle, a mozaic, piece by piece. Steve excels at shoving those broken pieces under the nearest carpet and pretending they don't exist. Eddie excels at finding them and returning them to Steve, glued back together. A series of standalone moments from Steve and Eddie's relationship and how Steve learns to be cared for. Chapter 1 summary: Steve collects responsibilities like stupid porcelain figurines and his most recent one is fixing Eddie’s eating habits. Eddie hates being told what to do, but maybe, just maybe there could be a potential compromise. 

You can also read it HERE.

You will see a lot of parentheses in this fic. The reason? The POV is Eddie's and I see him as a guy whose ideas have a mind of their own and he has to chase and redirect them at least once or twice a sentence. I hope you understand and forgive me. I swear it's intentional.

This will have multiple chapters (M rating for the future ones), most of them standalone, but tying into the topic of Steve's tendency to carry all the weight of the world on his shoulders and Eddie's disregard for his own safety and well-being.

Anyway.

Chapter 1: Halfway Happy

This isn't right. Why does he feel responsible for this again?

Eddie really should have noticed some signs sooner, but that was the thing with Steve Harrington. He had many talents, some more surprising than others, but sneakiness and being inconspicuous with his feelings weren't exactly among those (perhaps because Steve didn't know what "inconspicuous" means. Big words and all that). He was almost painfully honest and transparent, which - and past Eddie would have gagged for only thinking this - made him a perfect company for someone as paranoid and twitchy as Eddie. How could you feel unsafe around a man who couldn't lie to save his life? How could you suspect that he was hiding something? Then again, and Eddie would kick himself mentally for months for missing that, Steve hiding something out of concern for others was very much like him. Always self-sacrificing, even when it was no longer necessary.

Eddie himself was, self-admittedly, full of shit and he loved riling people up with the most outrageous things imaginable, but also loved fantasy and if you twisted his arm, very firmly, preferably with Steve whispering tiny encouragements into his ear and mouthing at his neck, he might have admitted (quietly, very quietly, and then deny it till his dying day) that he was an idealist. His father had tried his very best to extinguish that tiny flame of hope in him, repeated ad nauseam that "there is no good or bad in this world, everything you want you need to take yourself. Concern is for weaklings," he told little Eddie when the boy turned worried eyes at a toy left in the backseat of the car they were just stealing and, in his naive youth, asked whether the family will be okay when they have a kid to take care of. "No one is going to give you anything, so grow up."

Well, turns out his dad didn't know shit, because Steve Harrington, the former King of Hawkins and now his (how did this happen to him, the freak, Eddie Munson? How did he of all people end up with the hottest man in Hawkins, and, more importantly, someone who had no idea what Mordor was?!) boyfriend had just waltzed into his life, bit a demobat or two, threw himself into another dimension again and again, either with a bat or stupidly unarmed, while babysitting a group of annoyingly lovable brats. To top that, he nursed Eddie back to health when Vecna's attempt at resurrection didn't go exactly as he'd intended (a fuck-up in life, death and resurrection, no surprises there) and...

He never asked for anything.

Never.

Steve was just giving, giving anything and everything, food, shelter, advice, hugs, kisses...more. Eddie sometimes dreamt of taking Steve to see his dad in prison, just have Steve stand there, the hair and everything, while Eddie would display him as the most precious treasure in the world and yell at his dad "HOW DO YOU EXPLAIN THIS, HUH?!"

So yeah, the idealism. Eddie loved fantasy and felt like Steve was a full party in one delicious package - a protective warrior, ready to face any danger with a bat in his hand to keep his loved ones safe (did Eddie count? He hoped so. He'd have to ask Steve just in case. And if Steve started a new habit out of it, saying "I still love you, by the way, if you were wondering" in the most random moments, Eddie didn't mind at all). A hilarious bard, always cheering up the rest of the group (mostly unintentionally, although Eddie suspected he sometimes accentuated his stupidity to lighten the mood). A caring healer, always there after a battle, his gentle hands making sure that Eddie's injuries were clean, well-treated.  A mage...well, the Harrington charm had to count as a spell. It just does, there's no other explanation for the things Steve's voice did to Eddie. Steve was, to put it simply, just everything.

And he was so good at that everything that it took Eddie embarrassingly long to notice that, maybe, Steve really didn't know how to relax. A full party in a single person, so self-reliant that he didn't really get why anyone else would take over any of his responsibilities.

The first time Eddie noticed something was off was when they were watching a movie together. It was a wonderfully domestic scene - Eddie slumped against Steve, beer in hand, head thrown back with barks of laughter as Steve valiantly (and ineffectively) pretended to be an expert on recent video releases and their significance in the grand scheme of things (or the film world). Well, not really pretended, Eddie was pretty sure Steve understood how fruitless that would be, but somehow they got into a bickering match on how useless Steve was at his job at Family Video when he had absolutely zero idea about movies, genres and all that jazz (he also had no taste, Eddie claimed, and he'd die to another demobat swarm before he'd admit that watching romantic comedies was way more palatable when Steve leaned into his shoulder, gentle smile on his lips, unaware his hand was squeezing Eddie's tighter during love confessions and happy endings). Steve - of course - denied this and proclaimed he was an expert on bullshitting his way through any and all unknown topics, that his charm and quick tongue (Eddie snorted and wiggled his eyebrows at that and Steve smacked him with a pillow) would save his ass again and again. He offered to prove it and asked Eddie to choose a movie to recommend to an imaginary customer.

And that was how they got to this moment, with Steve describing the progressive character tropes and psychological merit of The Nightmare on the Elm Street. Not even ten seconds in and Eddie was howling in laughter at his insistence on how the movie poses a challenge to look beyond the physical defects and into the soul of the villain. Eddie mused that Steve had maybe seen a picture of Freddy Krueger and used that single image for a full-blown (and fully misguided) moral argument. And while his confident claims were absolutely and outrageously ridiculous, he couldn't help but listen, watch Steve's animated expressions, his free hand gesticulating to convey the importance of how we need to let go of our biases.

"Okay, okay, I yield, Harrington," Eddie wheezed and wiped tears from his eyes, grinning at Steve. "You are an excellent employee. The best if you want to get someone to watch a movie."

Steve grinned back and pulled Eddie closer to him. "Told you. The Harrington charm."

"I just wouldn't want to be there when your customers come back after actually watching what you rented them. I mean. The lecture was great, 10/10. But you know it's a slasher, right?"

Steve shook his head. "Well, duh. But even slashers can have those...you know. Overtones. Maybe the poor scarred claw guy just needs some understanding or something." He winked at Eddie. Winked. With those ridiculously thick lashes and all. The asshole.

"Now that's settled, we definitely need to watch it and see what you think of Mr. Krueger afterwards," Eddie laughed and nuzzled closer to Steve, his ringed fingers playing with the other man's t-shirt.

It had become quiet, just warmth and shared touches, and Eddie found himself relaxing, his mind at peace. That is, until his stomach gave a quiet growl, nothing major, nothing to be nervous about. All stomachs do that sometimes.

So why was Steve staring at him with that look, the one he gave to the kids when he found out they were up to some dangerous bullshit again and hadn't bothered to tell him?

"Are you hungry?"

Eddie waved his hand. "Nah, I'm fine, man. Don't worry about it."

But of course, Steve did worry about it. That was the whole thing about Steve. Caring and absolutely relentless. The deep breath he took warned Eddie that this would be yet another bickering match that he would, eventually, lose. Didn't mean he would go down easily though.

Steve frowned and put some distance between them, just enough to observe Eddie's face closely. Does he expect a sign saying THIS YOUNG MAN IS STARVING or something?  "You sure? Because you haven't eaten anything normal today-"

Ah, there it was. The battle had begun. Eddie cocked his head to the side and put on his best offended face. "Excuse me! That box of cereals didn't eat itself!"

"It had been almost empty."

"And now it's completely empty!" Eddie grinned. "Hence, I ate."

But Steve was not amused. Or even remotely convinced. "Something nutritious?"

"Uhhh..." Okay, that was a tough one. "The box said so...?" Eddie tried, using his doe eyes to the fullest advantage (and failing spectacularly because while his eyes normally had Steve stuttering and forgetting the topic of their conversation or sometimes even his own - but never Eddie's - name, the caring and protective side of him just wouldn't switch off).

Steve shook his head. "The box is a filthy liar."

Eddie grasped at his chest dramatically, throwing himself back against the sofa. "That traitor. The fiend! I really thought I could trust him! Or it. I think it. That sounds more devious, don't you think, Stevie?"

And of course, Harrington just wouldn't get off his back. Eddie didn't do well with people telling him what to do, he'd normally flip them off and leave, but Steve's earnest voice, the please-let-me-care-for-you-or-I-will-be-miserable look in those eyes, the long fingers gently stroking Eddie's arm through the t-shirt...he could never just push the man away.  He wondered if Steve realized how special he was to Eddie, to go through this dance every so often and never throw up his hands, say "fuck that!" and leave the door at the slightest bump in the carpet.

Steve just twisted in his seat more, watching Eddie with a gentle smirk. "You need something proper, Eddie. Something that's not just sugar and artificial coloring. Plus, it's sort of a fast energy thing, it goes up and then down really quickly-"

"Makes it a good fit for me," Eddie quipped.

"- and your stomach's been singing me serenades-"

Munson threw up his hands in defense. "Baby, all of me wants to serenade you and have you let down your beautiful hair from the tower Harrington. Can't blame my stomach for that."

It was quiet for a second and then: "...Eddie."

He swallowed heavily, his throat suddenly tight. "...yes, Steve?"

Eddie didn't want to look up, didn't want to see that he was, yet again, causing worry to the most precious person in his life, but then there were warm hands on his own, intertwining their fingers. His eyes met Steve's as he prepared for the inevitable loss.

"Can I please," Steve said, his voice serious and his hand squeezing Eddie's more tightly than should be necessary, "can I please get you something. Just a sandwich or...or I can heat up something, it doesn't matter. So please...will you let me?"

Ah, there it was. Even more effective than the Harrington charm. Eddie sighed and reached out, stroking Steve's face gently. "If it makes you feel better, then yes."

And just like that, Steve smiled, radiant and content, and Eddie found himself thinking he'd eat dozens of sandwiches to keep that expression on his boyfriend's face forever. Not much of a sacrifice, really. All his cooking was delicious, even the simplest things tasted so much better than most things Eddie ever ate (although that might be saying more about Eddie's disregard for something as mundane as food).

The realization came a bit later, when Eddie started happily munching on a sandwich. Steve was still smiling, but his expression slightly dropped.

"Whut?" Eddie hummed at him, trying to keep his chewing noises down. "It's really good, if you're worried about that."

Steve shook his head. "No, not that. Although I'm happy you like it. It's just...I'm sorry I didn't realize sooner. That I should have prepared something."

That had Eddie staring back at him, mid-chew, forgetting to swallow. "Um." Oh yeah, the bread. Gulping down the rest, he gave an incredulous chuckle. "Steve, I'm older than you, you know that, right? I'm pretty sure that I won't starve to death if you decide to take a nap, watch a movie or something. I managed to survive until now after all."

"Barely," and ow, that one hurt. Because while Eddie went for a teasing tone, Steve's betrayed what he really thought. The constant worry, the smell of blood and toxic spores that would stay with them forever.

And yes, Eddie disliked, hated, abhorred when people had the audacity to try and change him, when they wanted him to act against his nature. The logical thing would have been to say something along the lines of I don't answer to you, Harrington, and I'm not a fucking child you need to watch 24/7. That would be the pre-Vecna Eddie. And in a way, he still felt that way, he still had that rebellious streak (or two, three, a dozen). But there was also this, the love, warmth, laughter and discussion on hidden kindness of Freddy Krueger, and even if he lashed out sometimes and spoke too fast and maybe had to explain himself while his hands travelled in the weirdest patterns to illustrate his point, he would go to the hell and back (again) to keep all that. To keep Steve.

The post-Vecna Eddie just sighed, ate the rest of his sandwich in one bite and scooted towards Steve who was now avoiding his gaze, staring intently at his feet as if there was an incredible show happening just to the left of his sock. "Hey."

Nope, the sock was still more interesting than what Eddie had to say. "I know it's stupid," Steve muttered. "I'm not doubting you or anything, I know you can take care of yourself, but..." He left the rest unsaid. Eddie would be lying if he said he understood, because how did they even get here over a stupid stomach growl? But the magical lab girl El taught him an important word - compromise, apparently halfway happy - and maybe this was the right time to practice what it meant.

"I'll tell you what, big boy," smiled Eddie and the change in tone finally made Steve abandon his floor watching. "I promise that I'll be more conscious of the proper and nutritious food thing if that makes you feel better. But! Please, for the love of all your nuggets and then some," and Steve snorted at this and that might have been just the small push Eddie needed, "never think my less than ideal habits are your fault. I mean, I think they're absolutely fine, but you have," he waves his hands in the air, "standards. So, I propose an exchange."

"That sounds ominous," Steve mumbled, but there was a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Eddie nudged his side. "Ominous! What a big word, I'm a proud man! Anyways. Your back is pretty fucked up, or so I hear every morning." Ignoring Steve's protests, he carried on. "If you let me help you with that, I swear on my guitar I will eat. Something. Nutritious," he spat out with feigned disgust.

He knew that Steve didn't really let anyone take care of him, that he was always restless, looking for something he could be doing for others. And Harrington was almost as stubborn as Eddie. He really, really struggled not to chew on his hair waiting for Steve's response.

"So...you're telling me that I get a massage and you start eating well?" Steve chuckled and the tension was gone, just like that. "You've got a deal. Seriously, Munson, where is the catch?" And if Eddie ended up in his lap even faster than usual, well. As if he needed excuses.

"Oh, baby," Eddie smiled against his mouth, "did I mention I'd get to pick the music to accompany that massage?"

"Well, shit."

....

Oh yeah, that small tidbit about a failed resurrection? A fanfic in planning. Yours truly can nowadays hardly write in her native language, not to mention English, so any corrections are welcome.

AS ARE COMMENTS. PLEASE. THEY ARE LIKE COFFEE TO MY TIRED SOUL. TALK TO ME. WAKE ME UP INSIDE. (Desperate Evanescence sounds)

Ahem.

[mr-entj]

Hi Mr. ENTJ. You mentioned before that you're a career coach. Do you take the person's MBTI type into consideration when you give career advice to the people you've coached? I'm wondering how that affects what you say or how you say things to them. Thank you.

Yes, but I first take their goals into consideration ("Is my advice going to maximize the chances of securing the outcome they're aiming for?"), then their personality type ("How can I tailor this plan so the person will actually use it?"). Their personality type affects how I frame feedback, pose questions, and tailor potential solutions to their problems.

Although everyone is an individual, I've seen patterns emerge from my 15+ years of career coaching and tracking career outcomes based on type that inform my advice:

xNFPs / xNTPs who join big corporations typically end up miserable and dead inside, better outcomes are seen when they join smaller companies or freelance to do their own thing.

xNFPs are the least money motivated of all the types unless they're enneagram 3s trying to be xxTJs then they try to suck it up and suffer through corporate hell although they're not very successful with upward mobility. Those that persist end up on Tumblr quoting Nietzsche and screaming about individuality and freedom.

xNTPs swing dramatically between having 9,999,999 different career ideas they want to explore or no ideas at all because they're procrastinating and avoiding career planning at all cost. If they have rich parents, they can afford to further avoid career planning for a few more years until they reach back out to me in a panic because they're approaching their late 20s/30s and are now 'behind'.

xNFJs tend to first lean towards big picture but impractical careers that will improve society in some capacity (psychology, public health, social justice) and they'll try to Mother Teresa it for a bit. If it works, it really works. If it doesn't work, they default into corporate roles to pay the bills or go back to school for another degree.

xNxPs and INFJs are highly represented in academia (PhD programs). They're 2 inches wide and 2 miles deep (specialists). Most of them are convinced that more education is always better. For personal reasons, sure. For professional advancement, not always, and at times it’s detrimental.

xSTJs are resistant to joining smaller and unproven startups unless it's their own idea, they have a high preference for joining established companies immediately post-graduation and typically rise quickly.

ISTJs tend to resist or delay taking up people management positions preferring instead to be specialists (highly ranked individual contributors).

INTJs tend to toy with a career in politics while in college until they join the workforce, meet other human beings, and are forced to work with dumb people which set that dream on fire.

IxTJs in careers they hate make the best online memes.

xSxPs you never have to worry about because they always find a way to make money even though their career moves are heart attack inducing.