oo how about HCs for Shinsou when cats just wont stop following him and his fem!s/o sees this on her way back to the dorms 🐈 thank youuuu â¤ď¸

plusultranerd:

Shinsou Hitoshi

  • Your boyfriend was a lover of cats and that was an indisputable fact.
  • When you first started getting to know him, however, this was something you’d never really would have guessed. If you aren’t close to him, he doesn’t give off the most friendly or soft vibes so you just assumed that he was the type to get annoyed by cats or dogs, but boy were you wrong.
  • Somehow, it wasn’t until your third or fourth date that you even realized he liked cats. It was a simple act of kindness really, the two of you had been walking home from your fancy dinner date of mcdonald’s when he had suddenly stopped in his tracks.
    • You were about to ask him if something was wrong, but before you had the chance you were interrupted by a soft ‘Mew’ and when you looked down, there was a little stray cat rubbing it’s cheek against his leg.
    • You were a bit surprised that he wasn’t shooing it away, but what surprised you even more was when he crouched down to it’s level before he scratched at it’s head gently. It was honestly pretty adorable considering the cute ghost of a smile that tugged at his lips and after a moment you had to crouch down as well to give the polite cat a few pats of your own.
  • After a few minutes, Shinsou explained that he actually had a soft spot for those little feline fluff balls. When he noted he liked that they were a bit more aloof and often loners, you began to understand why he liked them. Cats were a bit like him in a way, they could appear a bit standoffish or maybe even cold, but it just took a little attention to show they had kindness inside of them.
  • From then on you often teased him and his love for cats, but he had plenty to tease you with in return so he didn’t really mind. You always did joke about how he was some sort of ‘Cat King’ though, the two of you having run ins with one stray here or there almost every single time you went out together, but this was a whole new level.
    • Usually the two of you walked back to the dorms together, but he’d been doing some ‘extracurricular’ stuff with class 1-A’s teacher that he for some reason couldn’t tell you about, so sometimes you’d end up heading back to the dorms at different times. This time however you did end up seeing him, along with the practical train of cats following behind him.
  • You immediately burst out laughing when he looked up to see you, his face practically screaming ‘Help’ as he kept trying to get them to wander off the closer he got to the dorms since he definitely couldn’t have them all follow him in there. He really was the ‘Cat King’ and this was a sight to see.
    • “Don’t even ask.” He said almost immediately as you finally made your way up to him, but you just had to.
    • “How!?” Was all you said, trying to wrap your mind around how the hell he even found so many cats in the area.
  • He went on to explain that he made the mistake of feeding one..then two…and before he knew it this whole little pack was following him, meowing loudly in a cry for more snacks even though he had run out a long time ago.
  • Once you stopped laughing, you eventually decided to help him, slowly leading a few off into different directions until they had finally all left the two of you by yourselves standing outside of your dorms.
    • “Looks like that’s the last of your children.” You muttered, watching as that final cat slowly disappeared off in the distance, snorting at his annoyed response.
    • “I am not a dad.”
  • “What?! Aw c’mon, you’ve basically adopted all of those cats. And besides..” You hummed, a mischievous smile blooming on your face. “I’ve always wanted to be a mom.~”

Fluffy Steve hc— He leaves notes if he gets up before you or he can’t sleep. Because he’d never want you to worry about him and because he’s super romantic at heart.

stevesthot:

he totally would! he knows you’re always super worried about him

  • you wake up one morning and you don’t feel steve’s usual warmth against you. you sit up in a panic, already wondering what happened to him and you just see a small little post-it note with the prettiest little handwriting on it 
  • it says “going to run with buck this morning, he finally wanted to go out! xoxo” and you can feel your body go lax cause thank god it isn’t something bad for once
  • sometimes he leaves little sketches on the mornings you sleep in to give a clue to where he went. a small coffee cup to let you know he’s going to starbucks, a grocery cart for the supermarket, a stack of pancakes for breakfast
  • on your 1st anniversary, he just left a winky face and some hearts (such a mystery man)
  • or if it’s the middle of the night, and he can’t sleep, and he goes outside to think or to the living room to watch tv, he’ll leave little arrows to lead you to him.
  • sometimes it just points right to the balcony, where he’s sitting there, brooding and you can go out there and hug him
  • or to the kitchen table, where he’s eating the rest of the leftovers before anyone else can get to them
  • AND
  • when he leaves for missions or important business and he’s not there to leave a note, he’ll leave an entire book of notes for you to read every day, full of sketches and quotes and tiny poems, just little reminders that he loves you and is always there

archieimagines:

Dating Clint Barton would include:

requested by: @mindmyowns !! thank you so much, i really loved writing this beloved legolas dude !!

warnings: deafness, teasing!! a little bit NSFW

this could have gone on forever, i had so much to say. i hope you’ll like it!!

  • Meeting him in the mundane (but sweet) way possible. Maybe serving him a coffee or tripping over his bag in the street. He’d be very sweet towards you, but you’d see easily that he was a cheeky lil shit underneath.
  • He wouldn’t be shy to ask you out. Normally you wouldn’t be so keen on someone that came across so confident because it usually met with arrogance, but the way he did it…
  • He held himself with a certainty in his stance and shoulders that just told you he was strong, and a real man. He was confident, but he wasn’t an ass about it, which made him incredibly attractive, and that was without even considering his face.
  • He had this expression that told you he was amused, like he was fully engaged in your conversation. Not nervous for your answer, but eager to hear it. A shine to his eye that said he already knew your answer from the way you were looking at him. And when you accepted, he nodded, his smile brightening further.
  • Of course, he’d take you to crazy golf.
  • It’d be fun at first, all the excitement in the air, but when it became clear this wouldn’t be a competition between you (not even a close one because he was that freaking good) and he revealed it was a 200 hole course, it lost its charm just a little bit.
  • It was still fun, of course, but you were just a tad annoyed. And he thought it was hilarious. “Just ten more,” he’d keep saying, “Maybe you’ll land one in eventually.”
  • When you’re a little more comfortable with each other, he’d offer to help you. His arms would stretch around you and show you the movement you needed before moving you closer to the ball and letting you try yourself.
  • You’d be sure you would have managed a much better shot with his help if he wasn’t so damn attractive. When he wrapped himself around you and you could feel his firm chest to your back, it’d set you off into an internal frenzy.
  • Eventually he’d decide he’d annoyed you enough with the crazy golf and take you for a milkshake or ice cream of some kind, where you’d learn that he was shooting those holes with wildly good eyesight. You decided then that he was clearly cheating, no matter how much he disagreed.
  • It was settled that for the next date, you’d do something that you’d be better at than he was.
  • It’d be a little further into your relationship that you found out about his hearing. He’d let you see his hearing aid without any apprehensions, fully accepting of it. And you wouldn’t mind at all.
  • It’d prove to be an issue when you finally get round to doing the do, though.
  • He’d be a great kisser, weakening your knees with even the chastest of kisses, loving how he gives all of himself in his kisses. It’d turn you on every time, and just make you want to rip his shirt off.
  • Though, taking his shirt off would be a great difficulty – with one small move you’d knock it out of place and it’d get lost in the shirt, falling out when you discard it.
  • Clint would stop your lips from catching his again with a laugh, “Hold it, honey, my aid fell out. Time for search and rescue: deaf and naked edition.”
  • It’d ruin the moment entirely but you’d laugh join him in your underwear on hands and knees in the darkened room, feeling around for his hearing aids. You’d find them and help him put them back in, but both your patience would time out.
  • He’d have you on the floor, right there and then, relishing all the sounds you made in ecstasy, so thankful for his hearing aids.
  • He’d be very sweet afterwards, holding you tight throughout the night every time – once you’d finally cooled down enough.
  • He loves cooking – even more so when it’s for you. But, he would be the guy to make breakfast in bed and bring it to you, only to get back in beside you and settle it on his lap instead of yours. A light hit to his toned arm and he’d laugh and settle it between you, glad he made more than you could possibly eat yourself.
  • You’d learn ASL for those times he doesn’t have his hearing aids in, even though he can lip read well. He’d tear up just a little when he realises how good you’ve got and how dedicated you are, absolutely touched. He’d pull you into his arms and ask you why, only to have you pull away ever so slightly to sign to him, ‘I’m serious about us.’
  • The first ‘I love you’s would be had right there in sign. And there’d be many more afterwards.

written by: archie

Bullseye

asanotheronebitesthedust:

A/N: This is just a little drabble. Not a very long fic. But I was listening to Erratic Cinematic by Gerry Cinnamon (saw it mentioned on @crazyfreckledginger’s blog and was like hey why not), and I was just so at peace listening to it. Very warm vibe I got from the song and I suppose I was inspired to write some Roy Harper fluff. 

Enjoy writing inspired by a very content and peaceful mood!

Pairings: Reader x Roy Harper (Arsenal)

Warnings: Fluff


Sometimes Roy wonders what he did in life to earn moments like these; he wonders what he did to earn this privilege.

Sun filters in through the window blinds, soft rays entering the bedroom and illuminating the space with warm yellow and gold colors. The fan in the room makes the blinds flow a bit, making the sun rays move around.

Roy lies on his side, arm folded under his head, as he stares at your sleeping face. It’s creepy, yeah, he guesses, but you’re just so… beautiful, as a few rays catch your hair and skin. 

Heck, you’re always this beautiful.

You don’t stir when he reaches out to brush some of the hair out of your face, nor when he shifts closer to be able to wrap an arm around you and nuzzle his face in your hair. If anything, you mumble something before curling into him even more.

The sense of peace Roy finds when he’s with you is something he’ll never give up. The way you make him feel is something that will never fade. The love he has for you will never shrink.

Love is something he’d thought he’d already experienced. Love is something Roy never expected to encounter again. Love is something you have shown him.

Anything that makes you happy makes him happy too. Anything that hurts you hurts him too. Anything you enjoy he enjoys too.

Even the simplest things seem amazing to Roy if you’re involved. Things like waking up in the morning with you across from him. Things like eating breakfast, walking down the sidewalk, tidying up, washing dishes–they’re all his favorite things to do whenever he does them with you.

Nothing in the world can compare to you.

At some point Roy must have dozed off, because he wakes up to the smell of food, and noticed the absence of your warmth.

Knowing you’re probably cooking and, no, there’s no reason to worry, Roy takes a minute to let himself wake up before sliding out of the covers and off the bed.

“It’s cold,” he mumbles at the feeling of the air on his bare chest. Louder, he calls, “[F/n]?”

“In the kitchen!”

A-ha. His intuition had been correct.

Roy smiles, going to brush his teeth, then making his way into the small kitchen the two of you share.

Your hair is up in a messy bun, and you’re wearing an old too-big t-shirt with some grey sweats, but you still look like a goddess in Roy’s eyes.

Silently sliding up behind you, Roy whispers, “Boo,” with his mouth beside your ear.

You jump, whirling to face him, and he laughs. “Harper! How dare you!” You smack his chest with the spatula you’re holding and he chuckles, pressing a kiss to your head.

“Sorry, babe, couldn’t resist,” he cheerily excuses himself.

Rolling your eyes, you turn back to the eggs you’d been making. “Pancakes?”

Oh you know pancakes are his second-favorite. “I,” he solemnly begins, “will never reject a pancake in my life. If I do let me be struck down by lightning from the Gods!” Roy lifts the back of his hand to his forehead dramatically and you chuckle.

“If you want some, you’ve got to make them yourself.”

He gasps. “How cruel. You know your pancakes are the best.”

You look at him out of the corner of your eyes, a sparkle in their [E/C] hues. “Should’ve thought of that before you decided to scare me.”

“[F/n]~”

“A-ah. Sh. This is your fault.”


Tags: @boosyboo9206 @mizmahlia @red-balistic @awanderingballoon @me-my-gifs-and-i @pythiaaa and I think that’s it? If you don’t want to be tagged in anything other than batboys, let me know and I’ll take a note!

Have a blessed one!

sweetboybucky:

omnomsauruswrites:

Cupckes

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Writing prompt: Cupcake for #sweetboybucky1k and @sweetboybucky

Summary: There’s a cupcake fairy abound.

Bucky had come back from a hard mission a couple months ago. His outfit still covered in dirt and someone else’s blood. The mission had gone so poorly that they had been unable to recover any information. He walked into the kitchen late at night but the lights were dimmed as if someone were expecting him. And there on the counter was a cupcake waiting for him with a note that said:

“Bucky, You can’t be sad when holding a cupcake.”

His eyes went from the handwriting to the sprinkle covered cupcake, confused. Who the hell left him a cupcake? He went through a list of names and couldn’t come up with one who baked. Part of him worried it was poisoned but he was hungry so he picked up the cupcake unwrapped and ate it. But kept the note and reread it over and over on his way to his room.

Then it happened again the next month. This time it had been pink and topped with a strawberry.

“Bucky, A cupcake is just a fancy muffin.”

This time he stared at the cupcake long and hard. The first time it had happened he just passed it off. Was someone trying to kill him? He didn’t know how long he had been staring, when a voice popped in. “It’s just a cupcake,” Steve said, taking in his friend, glaring at the cupcake.

“I know what it is?” He grumbled.

“You sure?” Another voice piped in.

“Of course I do, bird brain.”

“Ok, gramps. Whose it from?” Sam replied.

“Doesn’t say.”

“So you have an admirer who can bake, cute!”

“Or I have someone trying to murder me!”

“Why would someone murder you with a cupcake?” Her female voice cut in. “Cupcakes are the best kind of cake.”

His blue eyes moved across the room to her standing there in her pjs, her hair in a ponytail, looking like she was about to crawl into bed. “So you did this?”

“I don’t bake, sweetheart. But whoever it is…” she paused looking at the note, “is smitten with a James Buchanan Barnes.”

He blushed and she grinned.

The third time, he had been coming back from the gym in the morning, after getting in a fight with y/n. He had accidentally pushed her so hard she dented the wall, which caused her to lay him flat on his back, while she raged at him about not trying to kill his teammates and him yelling that If she had a better stance and actually trained it wouldn’t have happened. He watched as her eyes turned dark and she left quickly. He had spent another hour punching the bag in anger. Didn’t she know he just wanted her to be ready.

This time it sat on the table without a note. This time chocolate with chocolate icing. He sighed and picked it up, walking over to the trash can. He was about ready to throw it away when he saw the piece of paper on top.

He put down the cupcake and picked up the note, spreading it out.

“Bucky, Wanna go on a cupcake tour? -y/n”

He stared at, realizing you had lied last month. He went to her room knocking but no answer came. He changed and waited again. Night came and she never showed.

A large crash came startling him awake, Bucky looked at his clock 01:37. He heard a very soft fuck reverberate down the halls. What was she doing up in the middle of the night he wondered?

As he walked down the hall in his sweats, he noticed the kitchen lights were dimmed and a soft whirring sound could be heard with soft pop music. She had her back to him in shorts and a tank top. On her right shoulder was a purple bruise what he assumed was from him pushing her into the wall. She had no knowledge that he was there, concentrating only on whatever she was doing.

He glanced around the kitchen, flour, sugar, eggs…. all the ingredients for cupcakes. “So you are the cupcake fairy?” He said.

He watched how she jumped at his voice. “Fucking shit!” She yelled as she turned to face him.

She had flour on her cheek and a flour handprint on her shorts. “Jesus, Bucky! Don’t do that!” she voiced as she continued whisking.

“What are you doing?” He asked as his eyes went around the countertops.

“Stress baking,” turning her back on him.

“And you do this … often?”

“About once a month.” She poured the ingredients she had been working on into the other bowl.

He sat on the stool and watched her move around the kitchen, measuring ingredients, grating carrots, adding the batter to the cupcake pan. Her eyes never met his and she never continued the conversation he had started.

Whenever, her back was turned, he was reminded of pain he had caused her that morning. When she did finally turn after placing the pan in the oven, her eyes fell back on him. The hardness in them was laced with tiredness and pain. “What do you want, Bucky?” She asked bluntly.

He held her eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know …”

“It’s fine. We both were tense this morning.”

She pushed off the counter, walking towards the lounge, when he grabbed her wrist. She stopped and looked at him. “I didn’t know you were the cupcake fairy.”

She shrugged and moved to leave, he held on. “I liked the cupcakes, y/n.”

His fingers went to intertwine with hers, feeling the contrast between his callous ones and her soft ones. “And I’d like to take you on that cupcake tour.”

Her eyes went from his to their hands. “You do?” She whispered softly.

His metal hand went and tilted her chin back up. “I do,” he said with all sincerity.

He watched her eyes soften and her fingers squeeze his. He moved his metal fingers across her cheek dusted with flour. “We’ll call it date.”

Her eyes brighten and a smile crossed her face. She hummed, “That sounds perfect.”

He brought her between his legs. “But for right now I need to know, what the cupcake fairy is making?”

She laughed. “Carrot cake.”

“Vegetables don’t belong in cake, doll.”

She pulled away, “To bad for you Barnes, this cupcake fairy believes they do.”

Ahhh! I love the way you used the prompt in this piece! It’s very sweet, making Bucky cupcakes. He deserves all the cupcakes in the world ☺️

Thank you so much for participating in the challenge! 💗

frogyell:

steve rogers on his 5th bowl @ 3:54 am on the balcony of avengers tower: guys did u k. did u kno they called her Peggy bec

natasha: what

steve: B. 😂😂😂BEcause She

tony with the straightest face: because she what steve

steve:

tony: why did they call her peggy steve

May I request for the reader using a strapon on Hanzo?

shes-claws-deep:

Decided to do some headcanons 🙂


  • Hanzo enjoys doggy style waaaaay too much. He likes to posture and present himself to you with his knees spread wide open. He might reach back to pull his cheeks apart to wink his hole at you, or he’ll run a hand along his inner thigh to try and tempt you. When you finally fuck him, he loves the feeling of you on his back and how he can hold you and himself up.
  • There are a couple of dildos that Hanzo really loves in your collection, with his favourites being your more monstrous/alien dildos. Like the werewolf one that has a knot that you enjoy forcing into him – he can only take it if he’s had a few rounds of fucking and loosening up, but he cums so hard when you fuck him with it. There’s a dragon one with piercings and ridges and a thickness that Hanzo has to hiss and relax to take; it’s a bit of an indulgence for him, since you can’t fuck him too fast with it and he takes a while to cum with it. And then there’s one which is shaped like a tentacle that he only gets when he’s really good. This one digs at his prostate just right no matter whether it goes in or out and he cums so quickly with it. 
  • When you pull his hair while you’re fucking him, he’ll get so noisy. He starts to moan and groan and whisper in Japanese, though sometimes it’s praises and begging, sometimes it’s just senseless mumbling. Kiss his neck and Hanzo will melt, just crumpling down and arch his back so you can hit his prostate. 
  • He hates it when you start to edge him, he’ll get grumpy and pouty and start fucking back on you if you stop. You can pin him down by the neck and pull his hands behind his back so he’ll stop moving, but he’ll continue to grumble until you wrap his collar around his neck and put a gag in his mouth. He’ll slip into subspace so quick then and become the most pliable toy you’ve ever fucked. 
  • For a treat, you can lock him into a set of stocks – either traditional ones that just lock his neck and wrists, or ones that have him suspended above with ground with just his ass hanging out for you to fuck. Hanzo gets really into role play if you do this, spitting and hissing that the Shimada will come after you if you touch him. Of course, if you fuck him he’ll just start moaning and whimpering like a whore. When you point it out to him, Hanzo will try his best to shut up but he can’t help but voice everything out once he cums once, twice, maybe even three times. Unlike when you fuck using his cock, your dildo never flags and when you do get tired of fucking him personally, there’s always a machine that can take over for you. 
  • When he’s like this, you can get him to suck and lick just about anything, even another dildo, since he’s so out of it. He does get feral after a while so watch out for his teeth.

Drunk

batfam-imagines:

Prompt: The reader drunk calls
Jason and Jason freaks out because he doesn’t know where they are. 

Jason Todd Prompt Challenge from @jason-todd-rh

I did my best! This is an actual conversation my friend has had with her boyfriend when we went out drinking one night! 

I’m gonna work my way through this prompt list eventually, but this one in particular really made me think about my friend. If anyone sees any others on this list they want me to do let me know!

———————————————————————————————

You can barely see your
phone at this point of the night. The club is loud, and you aren’t quite sure
where your friends have gone this point, probably out to the dance floor again.
But you didn’t want to dance with those guys from the bar, you wanted your
boyfriend, you wanted Jason. It was pretty easy to find his number even though
you were so drunk you could barely make out the screen, his was the last number
you had called.

It only took three rings
before Jason answered, “Hey, baby. I thought you were out with the girls
tonight”

“J’son! Miss you!” Jason
says something else, but you can’t hear him over the loud music. “H’ld on. I
c’n’t hear you.” You stumble outside and lean against the building of the club,
“’m outside now, Jay”

Jason’s voice is
strained when he speaks next, “Babe, are you drunk? Did you just go outside, alone, while drunk?”

“It’s fine. I miss you,
Jay”

“Where are you, Y/N?
Babe, I need you to tell me where you are, so I can come get you and your
friends.”

You let out a snort, the
world slowly tipping to the right, “’s fine, Jay. They’re dancing!” The
constantly spinning street is making you feel a little nauseous, “Jay, I don’t
feel good”

Jason lets out a distressed
sound and you can hear him shutting the apartment door, “Baby girl, I’m
tracking your phone and coming to get you. I know you hate it when I do that,
but you can be mad at me tomorrow when I know you’re safe, okay? Go back in the
club and wait for me, love.”

“I think ‘m gonna be
sick, Jay” You double over, and end up emptying your stomach on the alley
ground, barely missing your shoes. “Ugh, that was gross”

“You alright, Baby girl?
Y/N, I swear I’m never letting you go out drinking without me after tonight”

“That’s fine. Hurry up ‘n
come get me”

Jason lets out a soft
chuckle, “I’m coming, sweetheart, just wait a few more minutes and I’ll be
there. Did you find your friends?”

“No. ‘m still outside, I
just wanna go home” You lean against the brick wall behind you, trying to will
any leftover nausea away.

“I’m pulling up now, baby
girl. I see you, so I’m gonna hang up, okay?”

“M’kay. Love you” But
the phone beeps as Jason ends the call, tears fill your eyes, Jason didn’t say
he loved you before he hung up. What if he’s mad because you got drunk and
doesn’t love you anymore?

“Hey, babe, you ready to
go home?” Jason catches sight so the tears in your eyes, “What’s wrong? What
happened?” His hands come up to cup your face, “You’re alright, baby girl, I’m
here.”

You sniffle and rub your
eyes, smearing makeup everywhere, “You don’t love me anymore, I’m annoying and
I got drunk a-and you had to come get me -”

Jason gently pulls you
closer until your head is tucked under his chin, “Of course I love you,
sweetheart. What made you think I don’t love you?”

“Y-you didn’t say you
loved me on the phone” Wiping your face on Jason’s shirt you pull back to look
at him. Jason doesn’t even mention that you’ve stained his shirt with eyeliner
and mascara, “’m sorry that I’m annoying”

Jason presses a kiss to
your forehead, “You don’t even know much I love you, baby girl. Sometimes it
scares me just what I would do to keep you safe.” Jason scoops you up and
starts walking to the car, “Let’s go home now. We can get you into some pajamas,
you’ll brush your teeth, drink some water, and go to bed. How does that sound?”

“Really good. Can we
cuddle too?”

“Of course we can. I’ll
text your friends to let them know where you are”

“Thanks, babe” Sometimes
you forget how strong Jason is, but he makes it apparent when he easily shifts
you onto one arm and uses the other to open the car door. “’Can you take off my
shoes? My feet hurt”

“Sure, baby girl. I
really don’t know how you managed to stay upright in these things while drunk,
I can’t even walk in heels sober”

You snort, “Magic.” Jason
unstraps your heels and hands them to you, “Thanks. You know I love you right?”

“I love you too, Y/N.”

–

By the time you get home
Jason’s already contacted your friends and they know that he came to get you.
Jason carries you up your shared apartment and helps you into one of his old
t-shirts that you usually wear to bed.

“Drink this glass of
water, baby, and then we can go to bed”

“And cuddle?”

“Yes, and cuddle” The
two of you crawl into bed a few minutes later, “You’re gonna have such a bad
hangover tomorrow, you know that?”

“Mmhmm”

“And I’m never letting
you go out drinking without me” Jason tugs you closer until you’re once again
tucked under his chin.

“It’s fine. I missed
you, wanted you there” You’re already starting to drift off, “’m glad you came”

“You know I’ll always come
rescue you, baby girl, even if from something as simple as you being drunk” Jason
presses a kiss to your forehead, “Go to sleep, love. We’ll talk more in the
morning”

“Night, Jay. Love you”

“Love you too, Y/N,
always.”

———————————————————————————————

Let me know what you think! Send any ideas you have to my Ask Box!

Tricky Treats and Torture Candy (Loki’s Naughty Candy Shop) Part 1

g-w-3-d-damn:

She
stepped over the cracks in the drab concrete, application and resume
in hand.  She printed it on plain white nondescript paper.  In the
overcast sun, the faded gray streetlamps granted no light to the
cramped shaded alley.  Disrepair and neglect crept to the storefront
of the Tricky Treats candy store.

She
thought, the Tricky Treats Candy Store?  When did that get there?

Her
shoulders slumped.  She’d addressed her cover letter and filled out
an application for the Torture Candy Sex Shop.  She’d passed the shop
on several nights, spotted a Now Hiring sign, googled it, and found
her way here.  A similar ‘now hiring’ sign hung between the brightly
colored candy striped pillars of the flamboyant storefront.  In the
window, a rainbow assortment of delights awaited purchase; colored
spiral pops in purple and pink, orange caps atop magenta bottles,
green candy canes, flowers of white icing atop violet petals dotted
with tiny red berries their center, plus an oceanwave-like poof of
cotton candies dyed blue and spun before a curtain of red Twizzlers
all stood in stark contrast against the outside world full of ashen,
cracked streets and the chipped, faded paints of the alley walls.  

A
bit of her reflection in the glass showed a childlike happiness, a
glitter in her eyes at the vision of sweets.  Upon seeing this
reflection, she straightened her shoulders and pursed her lips as if
to say Happy doesn’t look right on me… Ugh, they’ll probably
force me to smile at this job.
 She sighed to herself and entered
the store to apply.  The job would not involve sales for the toys she
loved, but she figured that at least if they hired her, she would not
starve.

So
she stepped across the threshold of flamboyancy and into the Tricky
Treats Candy Shop, Home of the Trickster’s Delight™.

Inside,
pinatas of all sorts imaginable hung from the railing of the stairs
to the loft, and along the loft railing as well.  A gilded sign and a
red velvet rope across the stairs signified that the upstairs area
was reserved for employees, only.  A large urn filled with decorated
sticks advertized the various prices for the pinatas on display; the
sticks were sold separately, and each stick did match a pinata above.
Clear jars of candies assorted by color lined a rainbow wall.  A
sickeningly pink frilly apron hung upon a coat rack near the door.
Sunlight streamed in through the window and highlighted the stacks of
Heart Shaped Boxes in various states of decorative gaudiness.  One
heart shaped box laid open upon the workspace counter.

The
workspace consisted of a reflective epoxy countertop which held an
old-timey cash register and a large gumball machine, its globe filled
with jawbreakers.  Behind this counter sat a workbench, above which
sat shelves of mysterious gift-wrapped product.  An ornate
four-tiered cascading chocolate fountain was anchored into the edge
of the workbench.  Price tags cut in little squares in pastel colors,
some underlined red to denote a sale, marked the shelf under each
well-organized line of colorful products.  The products were eclectic
in their design; A line of ceramic jars whose lids were replaced with
white cloth were tied tight with red hemp.  Tubs and boxes were
wrapped in colorful papers and tied tight with hemp or ribbon.
Stacks of round, peach colored tins with gold etched in bevels joined
gold boxes with red lacquered strawberries on the shelves.  White
paper packages with lavender and sky blue labels sat on the shelves
above a set of cabinet doors with brass handles.  The thin, babyfaced
man behind the counter left this cabinet door ajar, which gave her a
glimpse at the rolls of tissue paper and ribbon and wrapping supplies
within.  The man snipped a bit of gaudy ribbon, neon orange with a
magenta stripe down it’s center.  He slipped the ribbon between his
elegant pale thumb and the edge of his sharp silver scissors, and
pulled.  The ribbon hissed as it slipped between the pad of this
thumb and the bladed edge, and curled beautifully at the end of the
scrape.  He wound this ribbon onto an equally gaudy heart shaped box
before the tiny bell above the door jingled and caused him to look up
at her.  She wondered why the bell failed to jingle when she first
arrived.  Little did she know, he wondered the same thing.

“My
apologies,” he said, “I didn’t hear you come in, may I help you
find something?”

“I’m…
looking for a job if you know where I can find one of those,” she
said.

“A
jo- Oh, right, the hiring sign,” he said.

He
sighed as if he wished someone else he knew would have applied for
the job sooner.

“Well,”
he said, “let me see your application.  You did bring one, yes?”

“Yes,
but um, it was for, hey wait!” she said.

He
plucked the papers out of her hand and read over them.  And as he
read, his smirk grew.

“Okay
dude, look, I was looking for this other place, google said it was
right here, and here it isn’t, but I still need a job, so-”

“I
can’t accept this application,” he said.

“Is
it because it’s for the other place?” she asked.

“What
other place?” he asked.

“You
know, the sex shop?” she said.

“Oh,
no the sex shop is not a problem.  Why would the sex shop be a
problem?” he asked.

“I
mean, it’s not a problem, that’s the job I wanted,” she said.

“Hmm.
Anyway, I’m afraid I can’t accept an application without a name on
it,” he said.

“Excuse
me?” She said.

He
turned the application around to reveal the fields for a first and
last name were both blank.  The sight took her aback.  She knew she
wrote her name on the application, it was the first thing she did
after printing it out.

“Oh,
well, I have a pen, may I have the application back and I’ll scribble
that information in,” she suggested.

“You
know it’s quite unprofessional, to give an application, resume, and
cover letter, all without a name,” he chuckled.

“Quit
messin’ with me,” she said.

He
turned around her resume and cover letter.  Where she had once
printed her name in the header in large font capital letters, nothing
had printed.  At the end of her cover letter, the last word was
“Regards,” without a name written afterwards.  She wondered if
she was dreaming, or if she’d had a seizure or stroke at an early
age.

“You
know, if you don’t want them knowing your real name at the sex shop,
you can use a fake name,” he suggested.

“Uh,
I don’t mind if they know my real name,” she said, “they kinda
need that for tax purposes, right?”

“Not
really.  Do you perhaps have a stripper name?”

“A
what?”

“A
stripper name.  A street name?  A … sex toy worker name?  Hell,
even a tumblr username?” he asked.

“Why?”

“Because
we have to put something on this application before you can turn it
into the sex shop, and your real name just won’t do,” he said, “So,
what would you like to be called…. Miss?”

“Communication
is usually my strong suit, I apologize, let me just think-”

“Miss
Communication, it is, then,” Loki said.

He
scribbled Miss Communication on her application.

“Uh…”
she stammered.

“Mind
if I call you Miss Cum, for short?” He asked.

She
burst out laughing.

“Sure,
that’s fine, just put down whatever you think will land me the job,”
she said.

She
reached her hand out to him, with the intent of shaking hands.

“So
Hi, I’m Miss Communication!  Apparently, I answer to Miss, or Come.
What’s your name?” she asked.

He
took her hand and kissed her knuckles gently.

“Loki,”
he said.

The
magic bell tinkled frantically.  Loki looked past Miss’ shoulder and
squeezed her fingertips in excitement.

“And
here comes our most important customer!” he whispered.

He
dropped her hand, stood up straight, and brushed his hair back over
his ears.  Miss turned, but saw no one in the shop.  

“Quick,
hide yourself,” Loki said.

“Eh,
what?” she said.  

Loki
pulled her behind the counter and pressed for her to stay down.  A
shadow passed over the door, and in walked a tall, broad shouldered
man with long blonde hair and ice blue eyes.  He greeted Loki with a
thunderous voice.

“Hello
again!” the man said!

“Ah,
Thor! Welcome back!  How are you today?”

“I’m
well!  Thank you for asking,” Thor said.

Miss
peeked over the counter.  She lost the will to hide upon seeing the
tan muscular man’s broad smile.

“Holy
shit,” she said as she popped up from behind the counter.

“Oh,
hello!” Thor said.

Loki
cleared his throat.

“Thor,
this is Miss, Miss, Thor.  Miss, could you go run the IC inventory in
the stockroom for me?” Loki said.

“Hi,”
Miss said to Thor.

Under
the counter, Loki pushed her away from them.

“Get
lost, I have work to do,” Loki muttered.

“Uh
huh,” Miss said.

Thor
smiled, looked at his feet and scoffed to himself.  He looked back to
the pair, locked eyes with Miss, and spoke eagerly.

“So
I came by to pick up something special for my girlfriend,” he said.

Miss’
jaw tightened in pained disappointment as Thor emphasized the word
girlfriend, however, she retained her goofy grin.  Thor turned his
attention onto Loki.

“And
I just knew you’d have something amazing for me to give her,” Thor
said.

“Well,
I was just working on something amazing, but it’s not quite done
yet!” Loki said.

Loki
waved his elegant hand over the gaudy heart-shaped box with the crazy
magenta striped neon orange ribbon.

“Perfect!
I have some time, is it a bother if I stay?  I love to watch you
work,” Thor crooned.

“I
vote stay,” Miss said.

Loki,
blushing from the compliment, elbowed her.  He gave her a look that
both silenced and comforted her.  His look was one part “you’re in
no trouble, but play along,” and one part “let me handle this,
I’ve got a plan.”

“Of
course it’s no bother!” Loki said to Thor.

To
Miss, he whispered, “keep quiet or you’re fired before you even
fill out the w-4.”

Loki
cleared his throat and returned to work.

“Trainees,”
he scoffed, “am I right?”

Loki
curled another ribbon for the gaudy heart-shaped box.  He selected a
cardboard insert for the box and lined it with an azure tissue paper.
He side-eyed Miss as he took a gold tin with enamel cherries inlaid
from the freezer.  Miss looked at Thor.  Thor beamed, concentrated on
everything Loki did.  Miss turned her attention to Loki.  He removed
a small red fruit, a cherry.  The neglected cherry pitter rested on a
hook on a pegboard near the fountain.  He dipped the cherry, pit and
all, into the fountain by the stem, and sat it upon a tiny circle of
pinkish paper.  After repeating this process six more times, he
reached for a shaker full of sprinkles.  Miss watched as his hand
glided past the sprinkles and to what appeared to be a shaker of
crushed red pepper.  He shook out an even coating of the pepper, then
reached for a pippete bag, filled with a hot pink icing.  He wound
the stem in spiral of this icing and wrapped these six up.  He
transferred them to six out of the thirteen divots in the cardboard
spacer.  He then prepared to make six more, but as Miss squinted, she
noticed that whatever fruit he pulled did not look like a ripe
cherry.  This fruit looked wrinkled.  As he pulled the next one, she
spotted it clearly; these were carolina reapers.

Miss’s
eyes widened and she looked at Thor to see if he noticed.  He had the
exact same studious, unchanged beaming smile on his face as when Loki
first began his work.  Reapers dipped, iced, and wrapped up, six more
filled the divots.  Loki pulled a special clear plastic container
from the stainless steel refrigerator.  Inside, a piece that looked
like an ornate corsage shone through with pearlescent violet petals
and dewdrops crafted with boiled sugar glaze.  Loki uncovered the
artisenal confection, scooped it into the center of the heart-shaped
box.  Thor beamed.

“Beautiful,”
Thor said.

“Thank
you for the compliment, I am glad you enjoy it!” Loki said.

He
closed up the box and sealed it with the gaudy neon ribbon.  Thor
took out his wallet, handed Loki some bills, received his change and
left with a polite wave to Miss.  She watched his sculpted ass as he
left.  As the magic bell tinkled to denote his exit, Miss turned to
Loki with her hand in the air.

“Fuck
the hell yes!  Way to get my back with that mystery girlfriend, you
are awesome!” she said.

“Your
back?  I’ve been poisoning this mystery bitch for months, believe me,
Miss, I am doing this all for myself,” he said.

“Wait,
for clarity, you gay is good, you poisoning people is bad,” she
said.

“Oh
please, I never send her anything I wouldn’t let him eat on accident.
So no, it won’t kill her, not that I haven’t thought about it, but I
want it to make her wish she was dead,” Loki said, “so at this
point I’ve hit her with the hottest, foulest, nastiest flavoring I
can find and she still won’t fucking break up with him.”  

He
slumped hopelessly against the counter and looked toward the door
with longing.

“He
must be absolutely incredible in the sack,” he said.

“Have
you tried sending him back with, like, normal shit?” she asked.

“What
do you mean?” he asked.

“Like,
normal, delicious chocolates, in a pretty box with a nice note,”
she said.

“Why
would I do that?” He asked.

“Because,
I mean, he keeps bringing her what you send, doesn’t that kinda mean
she likes it?”

Loki
sighed.

“You
might be right.  He’s a kinky bitch, I know that,” Loki said, “it’s
very possible she likes the suffering.”

“How
do you know he’s kinky?” Miss asked.

“Work
here for a couple of weeks,” Loki said, “you’ll understand real
quick.”

“So,
does that mean I got the job?” Miss asked.

“Can
you start tonight?” Loki asked.

“Uh,
I mean, I’m here, so, sure, I guess?” Miss asked.

“Then
you’re hired,” Loki said, “go put on that apron.”

She
looked to the coat rack by the door, upon which the sickeningly pink
frilly apron hung.  She looked back to his uniform, a striped shirt
and black slacks and tie.

“I
don’t have to wear one if you don’t,” she said.

“You’re
no fun,” he said.

“Look,
if I’m really working here tonight, you should probably show me what
I’m supposed to be doing,” she said.
“Oh, you’re working,”
Loki said, “I was just about to take down the Now Hiring sign and
lock up for the night.”

“Wait,
if I’m working tonight, and you’re locking up now, what am I supposed
to do?”

“Training,”
he said cryptically.

He
walked out the door and tugged on the Now Hiring sign.  He turned the
hanging Open signboard to Closed on his way back inside.  The neon
open signs shut themselves off, and velvet curtains of deep violet
descended over the windows to hide the treats within.

“Miss?
I’ll need you to stand over here, please,” Loki said.  

He
gently held her by the wrist and guided her away from the workspace.
The business cards on the cash register each jumped into the air and
flipped, one by one.  Before the jump, each white card read “Tricky
Treats Candy Shop, Home of the Trickster’s Delight™!” in
candyapple red ink.  After the flip, the black backside of each card
contained candyapple red lettering which read “Torture Candy Sex
Shop” and in much smaller letters below, “(Also the Home of the
Trickster’s Delight™)”.

“What
the theoretical fuck,” she muttered.

“Oh
dear, I’m afraid I’m not accustomed to having others in the shop for
the transition,” he said, “please pardon me.”

Loki
pulled her against his chest just as a squadron of sexy mannequins
pranced past with boxes of gear.  She yelped as their chests
collided.  He slid his hand to the small of her back and took her
other hand in his.  He pushed his right toe between her feet, then
kicked it out to step to the right, pushing her foot to the right in
the process, causing her to step to the right along with him.

“Terribly
sorry, try to keep the tip of your toes pointed towards mine, and if
I push, you step back,” he said as he pushed her.

She
stepped back.  A mannequin bolted behind Loki, hauling the hot, still
cascading chocolate fountain.

“And
if I pull you, you step forward,” he instructed.

His
right foot stepped backward, so she stepped forward with her left,
kept the toes of her left shoe pressed against the toe of his right.
He pulled her, she stepped forward as he stepped back.  She collided
against him as he stopped abruptly.  Mannequins shot by them on every
side, and when he pushed her forward again his legs spread to take
impossibly long steps.  She strained and reached backwards with her
heels in an attempt to keep up with his wide gait.  The inner seams
of their pants crossed paths and built friction between their legs as
they waltzed among the chaos.  He pressed his back against the back
of a bent mannequin, which lifted and swiveled to its left.  Loki
swiveled to his left, kept their backsides together, and Miss twirled
to the right to compensate.  The mannequin walked away and Loki
swiveled again.  When Miss twirled herself into place, she felt her
rump brush against the edge of the counter.

“Up,”
he said.

He
lifted on her waist, and she bounced up to sit on the counter.  He
jumped up and straddled her lap with his knees on the countertop as a
mannequin ran a swiffer broom beneath them.  She looked at him with a
face full of uncertainty at the correctness of their intimate
proximity.  Loki smirked.  His eyebrows darted up for a instant, as
he pulled away from her face and pressed against her breastbone.

“Down,”
he said.

He
pushed her, and her back hit flat against the countertop, as he
himself hopped down and ducked below the counter until his head sunk
between her open thighs.  She could not see this, as her head hung
free over the opposite edge of the counter. When she looked to the
ceiling, just overhead, a metal bar containing many hangers full of
lingerie swished over her.  She sat up to find Loki’s smirking face
still between her legs.  She pointed her finger right to the cute
bridge of his pale nose.

“Not
unpleasant, but not okay,” she said.

“I
do hope you’ll pardon the mess,” he replied, “things get a bit
different in here come sundown, nothing looks the same after dark
here.  Not even me.”

A
lollipop tree swept over his head, over her lap, and her finger
caught a clear red pop.  She caught it as it fell from the tree,
before it could bonk Loki on the head.  She looked down at him.  His
baby face appeared to age.  The smooth, porcelain skin grew a touch
more loose and porous.  Parentheses like creases pressed themselves
into the edges of his muzzle, crows feet imprinted at the corners of
his intense eyes.  The kiss of age rendered him no less attractive,
only different.  Miss lifted the gemlike red candy.

“Can
I have this,” she asked.

He
stood up, put his hands around her waist and drew her from the
countertop.  He took the lollipop from her and flung her towards the
entrance door, but kept hold of her hand as a line of mannequins
ducked down and shuffled between them under their arms.  He lifted
their hands and spun back into her arms.  While he spun, he dropped
the lollipop back into a second mobile lollipop tree and withdrew a
different, teddy bear shaped pop.  He unwrapped it and presented it
to her.

“How
about this one,” he said, “it’s safer!”

“Sure,”
she said.

She
bit the head of the lollipop and closed her lips around its round
waist.  A mannequin barreled toward the two of them.  Loki, wide
eyed, silently asked for a little push.  Miss pushed him forward as
she pushed herself back out of its path.  Her heel caught some unseen
obstacle as she stepped back.  Loki wheeled to face her, grabbed her
palm as she fell, yanked her towards him, spun her back into his
arms.  She looked up at him wide eyed, and sucked down the cherry
flavor from her teddy bear lolly.  The magic bell tinkled out an
alarm.  The mannequin squad jumped, scrambled to their final
positions.  Outside the last rays of sun disappeared behind the
mountains.  The candies that were left on the shelves transformed
into various adult novelties and sexy sundries.  The assorted candies
in the stacked glass bowls became individually wrapped specialty
condoms, energy pills, and single use lubricant packets.  Packets of
Fruit Stripe Gum unwrapped themselves and reformed into striped
edible underwear, as displayed on one previously nude mannequin.
Packets of twizzlers unwound and tied themselves in intricate
Japanese knots around a rope-bondage mannequin.  The long, twisted
spiral lollies in the vase turned into pyrex wands.  Miss’ wide eyed
expression turned to one of concerned confusion as her teddy bear
melted in her mouth to take the form of a small cherry red anal plug.
As she continued to suck on this new-found pacifier, it provided the
same cherry flavor.

“That
one does look cute in you,” he said.

He
stretched out a long, elegant finger and pressed the button on the
butt of the plug.  It wobbled, then the edges of Miss’ lips blurred
as the vibrator whirred.  She pushed the button and it pulsed
rapidly, pushed once more and it switched off.  She pulled the plug
from her lips with a slurp and stared at it in suspicion.  Loki
smirked at her, and each new wrinkle the sunset brought with it
displayed itself upon his face.

“You
seem shocked at the change,” Loki said.

“I’m
just surprised that it’s still cherry flavored, considering, y’know,
where it usually goes,” she said.

She
popped the plug back in her mouth and continued to suck on it.  Loki
chuckled.

“You’re
going to have a lot to learn from my clientele, I can already tell.”

——- 

#KristenMackWriter#@debellatis#@teck#@kingloptr#@ruleroftheworl#@adamcansuckme#@lady-loki-laufey#@godly-butt-touching#@toomanylokifeels#@timeasylum#@hailvady#@mangajuicexd#@sparkleslordofthunder

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