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cashappmentors · 2 years

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How to make money off Cash App stocks?

So you want to learn how to do stock trading through Cash App? This article will show you the basics. Here, we'll look at how to buy and sell stocks and make money from your investments. Getting started is easy with the app, which provides customer support and helps you with stock trading questions. Once you're ready to dive in, follow the links below to learn how to use the app.

How to buy stocks on Cash App?

There are several ways to invest in stocks on the Cash App. Users can invest in a particular stock by setting a custom order based on their price ranges. The Cash App also alerts users to any price fluctuations. Investing is essential to building wealth, and you can invest as little as $1 in a stock of your choice. Cash App also provides an automated investing service called Auto-Invest, which makes investing easy with the touch of a button.

When buying stocks on the Cash App, users can choose penny stocks, which are stocks of small companies that trade at under $5 per share. However, if you want to invest in more expensive stocks, you can choose from NYSE or major exchanges such as NASDAQ. The Cash App allows users to buy and sell stocks in real-time. If you are unfamiliar with the Cash App, you can learn more about it by reading the following steps:

How to sell stocks on Cash App?

To sell stocks on Cash App, you must first know how to buy them. Once you have purchased them, you must input the amount you want to sell. Then, you need to scan your finger to confirm the transaction. Then, the money will be deposited into your bank account. You can then withdraw the cash or use Touch ID to sell stocks. It's as simple as that! The process is quite simple, and it won't take long.

When you sell stocks on Cash App, you can choose to buy and sell the stock simultaneously. However, be aware of day trading limits. This is because day trading limits are set for you. For example, if you bought and sold the same stock on different days, you'll have to wait for the next day to sell your stock. In the same way, the schedule for selling stocks on Cash App is the same as the market.

How to make money off Cash App stocks?

The Cash App is an investment platform that lets you invest in different stocks. All you need to do is sign up using your email address and mobile number. The app will then show you a list of available stocks. After you select a stock, you will need to verify your identity by fingerprint scanning or a PIN. You'll also need to verify that you own the phone number linked to your account. If you do everything right, you can start making money off your Cash App stocks!

Once you've verified that you're eligible to purchase a stock on the platform, you can sell it. First, navigate to "my portfolio" and then click the company you wish to sell your stock in. Confirm your transaction with your Touch ID or PIN to complete the transaction. After that, you'll receive your money. You'll have a cash flow for the day if you profit from the transaction.

Is the Cash App Investing Platform Right for Me?

As an investor, you are likely to wonder, "Is the Cash App Investing Platform right for me?" Here are some tips for getting started. Cash App offers some essential tools, including stock charting. The charts don't feature numbers but show a line representing stock movement over pre-set time frames. You can also check out news feeds and company profiles. Cash App also offers some tips for finding good stocks.

Is it worth doing stocks on Cash App?

If you are a beginner to the stock market, Cash App may be the way to go. Though they don't offer many options for small investments, they offer a small number of stocks to get you started. Cash App may not be the best option for you if you're a seasoned stock investor. In addition, the company selection is still somewhat limited. Currently, they're only targeting stocks listed on the Nasdaq and New York Stock Exchange. You can always contact their customer support if you have any questions or concerns.

Before you dive into Cash App stock investing, consider what you want to invest in. Most cash apps allow you to invest with the money you already have in your account. Popular cash apps include Robinhood and Acorns. These apps make investing easy and fast. And since they only offer small investment amounts, you don't have to worry about losing a large amount of money. However, it's still worth mentioning that they're very different from other investing methods.

Does Cash App have penny stocks?

Many investors are confused about whether the app is legitimate and offers the right stocks. The truth is that it does, but you must know what to look for in the app to find the best stocks. In other words, the app should give you a list of companies with shares starting at 10 cents. Once you find the stock you like, you should purchase it. But before you do, make sure you know about the market.

Penny stocks are shares of companies with a price of less than $5. While they are riskier than other stocks, they can provide large returns if the prices go up. If you're a beginner, you can begin trading Cash App penny stocks for as low as $1. While you'll want to research the stock list very carefully, it's possible to earn thousands of dollars in a short period if you're careful.

What are the best stocks to buy on Cash App?

There are several options for investing on the Cash App. You can invest in bitcoin and use the app to withdraw the money into a local bank account. You can also invest in stocks through your bank's ATM. You can start with as little as $1 to buy stocks and don't have to pay any fees for investing. If you're unsure about investing on the app, you can read the cash app's safety tips.

Before you start buying stocks through Cash App, it's important to make sure that you are familiar with the platform. The app's stock trading platform is easily accessible from the investing tab. Once on the app, you can see your watchlist and the largest movers on the day. Once you've decided which company you want to invest in, tap on the company's name to open its stock chart and input the amount of money you're willing to spend to buy that stock.

#How to buy stocks on Cash App #How to sell stocks on Cash App #Cash App penny stocks #buying stocks through Cash App

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buy-cash-app-stocks · 2 years

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How to buy stock on Cash App? (Guide 2022)

The low cost of Cash App Investing makes it an excellent option for first-time investors, but it may not suit everyone's needs. Although it lacks advanced investment tools, its extensive information is still helpful to new investors. Here is a quick review of Cash App's advantages and disadvantages. Read on to find out if this is the right platform for you. But first, consider whether it meets your investing needs.

How To Buy Stocks on Cash App?

Cash App is one of the easiest ways to invest in the stock market. You simply sign up using your email address or phone number to get started. From there, you can begin viewing the stocks available to purchase. Once you find one that piques your interest, input the amount you'd like to spend, and then scan your finger to confirm the transaction. You'll be able to see the stocks' prices and charts and their current price.

You can purchase stocks on the Cash App by linking your mobile phone and bank account. Once you've linked both, the app will show you a list of available stocks. Next, you'll need to input the amount you want to invest. To complete the process, you'll have to verify your identity by scanning your fingerprint or entering a PIN. You'll also have to make sure that you own the phone number associated with the account.

What are the best Cash App stocks to buy right now?

While you can find some Cash App penny stocks under $5, they aren't necessarily winners. While they are a convenient and straightforward way to trade, you should exercise caution when buying stocks on Cash App. You will have to do additional research to find the companies you want to invest in, and you shouldn't buy the first stock you see. The investing tab in Cash App will help you find a company worth investing in.

Cash App stock looks like a bargain right now, but that discount is probably just a miscalculation on Wall Street's part. The macro headwinds pulling the shares down are micro-scale, so long-term investors should see price weakness as a great time to add to their positions. Cash App is an excellent example of a stock to buy if you're interested in investing in the rapidly growing e-commerce sector.

Can you make money off of Cash App stocks?

If you have ever invested in the stock market, you may have wondered if you can profit from Cash App. Beginners can use the Cash App's investing account to invest in stocks without worrying about scary graphs. In essence, investing in stocks is buying a part of a company. The "share" is a segment of ownership, and you're hoping it will grow in value. If you successfully sell it for a higher price, you will have profited.

While it's true that Cash App stock trading requires a great deal of expertise and domain knowledge, it is possible to make money with them. This free, easy-to-use app helps you invest in stocks and offers zero-commission stock trades. If you're curious, here's what you need to know. First of all, cash app stocks aren't for everyone.

#How To Buy Stocks on Cash App?#Cash App penny stocks #cash out stocks on cash app #Can you make money off of Cash App stocks?#Cash App stock trading

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steddieas-shegoes · 1 year

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Baby formula was expensive, and Eddie knew the fact that half of the container being spilled on the counter would probably cause Steve to have a heart attack.

It was an accident, obviously. He didn’t just decide to dump half of the powdered gold that fed their newborn daughter on the kitchen counter.

And Steve wouldn’t be mad about it. He didn’t get mad about accidents.

But he would definitely spiral about how that was two days’ worth of bottles for Ella and how they had a budget.

Eddie told him many times they were fine. He had more than enough money in savings from the band’s success, and he knew Steve had his own trust fund that he’d guilted his parents into letting him keep as a way to apologize for never being around in his childhood.

Money wasn’t really an issue for them.

But Steve was still careful with it, and Eddie loved that about him.

Other than their house, they’d never made major purchases, and stuck to necessities only with occasional extra spending for birthdays and Christmas for their loved ones.

But after they adopted Ella, Steve turned into a penny pincher. He stocked up on everything from diapers to formula to baby soap any time there was a sale, and refused to buy the “fancy” brand that had the same ingredients and vitamins as the generic store brand.

Eddie loved him.

But he was very worried about Steve finding out about this.

Maybe if he just cleaned it up and then pretended Ella had had a few extra bottles?

No, then he’d panic that her food intake was abnormal and he’d call the pediatrician and Eddie would have to backtrack and then Steve would be mad.

He pulled the trash can in front of the counter, swiping his hand across quickly to get most of it into the trash.

As he moved the trash can back to its usual spot, Steve came around the corner with Ella in his arms, cooing at her.

God, he was born to do this. Eddie was gonna do everything he could to give him the six nuggets he wanted so he could watch him in his element for as long as possible.

“Say hi to Daddy, Ella,” Steve said before looking up at Eddie, who was wiping down the counter furiously.

Not fast enough if Steve’s face was any indication.

“What are you doing?”

Dammit.

“Just cleaning.”

“You’re wiping the counter.”

“Yes.”

“You never do that.”

“I just finished the dishes so I thought I should.”

“You do the dishes all the time and never do that.”

He was so suspicious. Rightfully so.

Eddie knew he was found out, or if he wasn’t quite yet, he would be as soon as Steve saw the trash.

He sighed, letting his head fall down and his chin hit his chest.

“Eds, what is it?”

Steve was walking behind the counter, concern on his face. Concern for Eddie. Concern he didn’t deserve.

“I spilled something, it’s not a big deal.”

“Okay. But you’re being weird about it so it makes me think it is a big deal.”

And then he saw it. He must have, because Eddie watched him freeze in his tracks and stare down at where the trash is.

“Stevie, it’s not a big deal. I’ll go get another can to make up for it.”

“What happened?”

“I was measuring out her nighttime bottle and knocked the can over.”

“That’s a lot of formula.”

“I know.”

And then Steve started laughing.

It startled Ella in his arms and she let out a whimper like she was about to start crying.

Steve handed her to Eddie so he could lean over, hands on his knees, and laugh louder.

“Ella, your dad’s lost it.”

“Sorry,” Steve said as he tried to gasp for air between hysterical laughter. “Just- you were so serious. Why didn’t you just say that?”

Eddie knew he wasn’t seriously asking that.

“Sweetheart, you’re kind of insane about this stuff. In a good way! I love you because you’re a little crazy! But like, that was a lot of formula and it’s wasteful and costs a lot to replace.”

Steve’s face went serious.

“Baby, you don’t think I’d be mad about an accidental spill, do you?”

Oh no, he was hurt.

Eddie hurt his feelings.

“No! No. It’s not that. It’s just you’re so serious about the budget and this would mess it up.”

“It’s just a little. And it’s not like we actually have to live so tight.”

That was suspicious. What the hell did that mean?

Steve wasn’t changing his mind on the budget, was he?

He must’ve done something.

“Oh my god. What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Oh yes you did. Your face is bright red and you look like you committed a felony. I would know what that looks like since we’ve committed at least two together.”

Steve somehow blushed harder.

“It wasn’t a felony.”

“Aha! But it was something!”

The tables turned awful quickly. Eddie didn’t know how, but he’d take it. Anything to get the focus off of him.

Ella was gurgling in his arms, eyes flitting between the two of them like she was watching a tennis match.

“Well, you know how we talked about getting an RV, right? Since we had Ella now and might try to adopt again? Since it’s one of the things I want more than anything?”

“You bought an RV.”

Eddie was smirking at Steve, who probably expected him to be upset, but Eddie was thrilled.

Not only would they be able to travel the way Steve wanted to, Steve had thrown their budget right out the fucking window.

“I put a down payment on an RV. I told them I had to talk to you first.”

“This is gold.”

“We did technically talk about it already.”

“We did.” Eddie bounced Ella in his arms and looked down at her. “Wanna go on a road trip, angel?”

“So you’re not mad?”

“Sweetheart, I’ve been waiting for you to spend my money for years. This is the third best day of my life.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

Eddie walked up to him and kissed the corner of his mouth, then his nose, and finally his lips.

“I love you and your crazy budget.”

“I love you and your ignorance of how money works.”

“That’s why I have you, sweetheart.”

Steve rolled his eyes but nodded.

“We can pick up the RV tomorrow if you want.”

“Did you plan our first trip yet?”

“No.”

Eddie raised a brow at him.

“Yes.”

Eddie jumped up once, making Ella giggle.

“Where are we going?”

“I figured you’d wanna take Wayne to the Smoky Mountains.”

Of course he did. Of course he thought about what Eddie would want and what would make Wayne happy and what he could do to make it happen.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Then I guess we better make a stop at Wayne’s house tomorrow with the RV.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #tumblr drabbles #stranger things #dad steve harrington #dad eddie munson #domestic fluff

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cowgirlcherrie · 9 months

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after the storm. ⚡︎ florist! abby drabble

╰ * a/n: no plot for this either but rather a spin off on my headcanons ! just a little treat for my patient babis who were waiting for more ♡ in simple words this is about happy accidents. . .

song(s) — after the storm. kali uchis & tyler the creator , falling in love. laufey

3:40pm new york.

Abby didn’t do love.

Although it would be nice and she yearned for it. She wished with the very small penny that she would find in her sage dickies, somewhere blanketed with an old mint gum wrapper and her brown leather wallet in her pocket. Tossing her very last penny into the Washington Square Park fountain wishing for a lover as considerate or even more than her. One to build flowers for and be her muse.

One to make stockings with around the holidays where she would plant mistletoe around the house, using it as an excuse to merge lips with her lover; and to make floral centerpieces for the family dinners.

Was it too much to ask for?

Abby felt like a late-bloomed flower in comparison to her peers. They were going to wine and dining events with their partners, fancy yachts in the summer, and getting engaged. Everyone was falling in love around her whilst she fell behind and was tormented into watching.

On this typical, almost mundane Saturday, the rain flooded down the crevices of the tall buildings hugging the wood and brick of the apartments and offices. Golden Canary taxis beeping as passengers let out screeches rushing to the nearest hut under the rain. Abby stood frozen in her floral shop. Figure in front of the window pane, as she let out cracked whistles through her dry lips, hands in her pockets. The jingling of her keys almost matched the sound of how hard the rain came down. Rocking on her toes, to and fro. Abby being alone for the evening took a number. It was vacant around the shop, the smell of roses, chrysanthemums, and daisies merged together itching at her senses — she could feel a faint sneeze drifting up her nostrils from the dust in the vents.

She liked the glass windows. Largely panned giving everyone a wide view into the small business, including herself who had gotten nosy at strangers on the concrete. She admired the different people that she would see. The couple where the girlfriend would beg her partner to buy them a bouquet or a rose; The children dug in the crates begging their parental figure for dandelions to make wishes. It was all too pure for Abby, making her heartache at how the flowers brought unity to everyone around her. It was innocent, lovely and made her love her job even more.

Abby itched at the nape of her neck, swinging her braid to the back as she bolted outside in a hurry to bring the cart of flowers inside as the wind picked up; business was dying down now that people seek shelter instead of enjoying nature. Abby stuck her left foot out kicking the wooden stopper in the door, door chimes ringing as her hands gripped the cart of the flower display.

Abby underestimated the rain, her body was instantly covered in droplets her black t-shirt clinging to her chest almost becoming uniform with her skin. Providing a roughed, sloppy kiss to every curve and outline of her tender body. Abby let out grunts as she pushed the cart inside having to do it all alone until she heard footsteps. Not slow ones, but rather rapid, almost like the sound of the motorcycles against the pavement, bikers revving up at the stoplight.

You were in a hurry, and it seemed as though the day couldn’t get any worse. You wanted to cry and bawl up into your bed, holding the sheets so tightly as sobs flowed through you as the serotonin in your body decreased. Tears weld up in your eyes as you run through the city streets, an oversized blazer above your head with some distance as you used it to shield you from the rain. Why me? – you would cry out, thick lashes sticking to the sunken skin of your eyelids as your face grew puffier in tears. That was all you wanted to do. But naturally, you couldn’t find a way to win. Not only was it raining, wet wind smacking your face, but you were going to miss your train because you weren’t moving fast enough. You were through for the evening. Briefly, your running slowed down in front of a flower shop catching your breath, heaving as your hands lowered letting the rain wash over you like a fresh cold shower.

You lost.

And to confirm it, a black Sudan drove by; hitting a pothole, splashing murky rainwater onto your work outfit leaving you drenched and soaked furthermore. Blinking rapidly, a loud gasp echoed behind you, followed by a falling ceramic flowerpot that collided with beige concrete, the sound echoing like an ice machine. Making your head snap to your left seeing a just-as-wet figure, cursing under her breath as her hands gripped the edges of the table.

She seemed just as stressed as you were. Considering the flower pot on the floor with dirt smeared and washing away into the city drains like mascara on a wet face made you wince. Picking up the still intact flowers surrounded by the broken glass.

She looked like she could use some help.

“Hey!” you shouted, but your voice was low compared to the rain that was drowning you out, the girl didn’t answer steadily pushing the cart in between the long rectangular door. “HEY!”

She stopped moving the cart, lifting her eyes up from the cart in front of her. Her lashes were long – her face free of any makeup, a light dusting of rose across each cheek, contoured and sculpted edges, giving her a bronzy look under the summer solstice. It didn’t help that the rain was making it hard to see turning your vision into endless mush. The flowers behind her almost popped out and came to life…full bloom and kissable touch. You were stuck, still breathing…but heavily of course; you zoned out somewhere lost in her ocean of eyes, before snapping out of it at the sound of someone’s car alarm going off on the street.

her tattoos and soft face almost mocking each other at her inquires as a floral shop owner.

Everything got louder almost amplified. Obnoxious noises match your heartbeat. Her lips were parted as she eyed your wet figure up and down.

“Let me help!” the both of you shouted at the same time. Followed by sweet sweet laughter amidst the rain.

“No, seriously let me help” This time the woman in front of you was whispering, almost merging voices with the pellets of rain hitting the metal of the table. Blonde hair sticking to the sides of her face.

There was a silent agreement. You put the jacket you were using as an umbrella back on your arms, followed by locking your purse over your shoulder as you reached to the other end across from Abby lifting up the table with the count of 3. The two of you carry the table back inside, this time no spills.

You weren’t sure why but she was like a breath of fresh air, beautiful and in her own world almost as if the heavens planted her there for you to see. It was purely an accident that you stopped in front of the flower shop. Hell, you could have chosen Mimi’s Bakery or that’s vintage! Threading and clothing warehouse but your body chose Lovestrung Florals. How glad you were that you did, new feelings brewing inside of you as your brain struggled to find the right words.

The broken flower pot remained, in unity with the concrete hugging each and every crevice of the holes in between the rocks. Going unnoticed by both you and Abby as the two of you worked together, not even catching the single cream-colored rose that was deteriorating under the harsh application of rain. Drowning in water as the petals peeled off and ran down the sidewalk into the city drains, tainted with dark mud; changing like the seasons. The sun begun to peak out embedded through the grey clouds casting a bright glow haze on the busy Soho streets.

“Now let's get you inside, don’t need your beautiful self getting sick now do we?”

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y0ur-loca1-lyr3 · 2 months

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Hey could we get your headcannons on Shane gaining a crush on the farmer? How Shane would feel about the whole scenario, how he would address it, the like

Shane getting a crush on the farmer hcs

A/N; omg I’m absolutely fangirling over this rn thank you so much for this request anon, hope you like it :D

As we all know, Shane isn’t really very fond of people

Actually it’s not that he’s not fond of people he just can’t see someone actually liking him as a person

So when he first realized he had a crush on the farmer he just sort of pushed it away, thus in turn probably also the farmer

At first he thought that there was no way someone like the farmer would remotely feel the same

The farmer talking to him, and giving him gifts was probably just out of pity, right?

No need to acknowledge that weird swirly feeling in his stomach, or the fact he always stumbled over his words around them

Not like they felt the same anyhow

But then they show some type of interest in the same way he feels

Maybe it’s a slip of the tongue, or maybe he says something on accident that makes them a little flustered

And now he’s freaking out

He can barely focus at his job

Probably dropped a few things while stocking shelves because he was so in thought he missed the shelves entirely

Internally freaking out in his room later

Cannot sleep. Like normally he’s too drunk or too exhausted to do anything but plop on his bed and sleep away his life, but now? Oh, no, no, no

He’s wide awake pondering what to do

Hell, he’s still having a hard time grasping the fact that someone is willing to talk to him, and now this?

The next day when they talk to him, he’s very nervous

Normally his response is something along the lines of ‘go away’ but now he’s trying to piece together a normal response to them

It wasn’t until that moment he realized how hard it was to simply speak English

He stumbled over his words a few times before finally getting out a “hey, what’s up?”

They’d respond kindly, and for the first time in a while he actually has a good conversation with someone

He had to admit it was nice to actually talk to someone he was fond of

This happened day after day until him and the farmer talking before his shift was just sorta daily

The days they couldn’t talk to him he found himself a little less happy

Of course he’d forgive them the next day and go on like normal

He’s pretty sure that the only time he really ever smiles anymore is around them

He’d begun to trust them a lot, and that little crush that he tried to snuff out only grew more and more

He started to see things at his work that would remind him of them

And he’ll, he had more than enough to buy that and some beer later, right?

They’d given him so many gifts it’s only fair to return the favor

He’d probably be all nervous and awkward while giving them the gift, but it’s still be worth it in his eyes to see them smile

Confessing his feelings would probably take a while

First he has to gain the courage to do so, and on top of that he has to figure out how to confess

After much ‘research’ (interrogating Marnie to see what the best way to confess is) he decides to invite them to share a beer over at the dock by Marnie’s ranch around nighttime

When they get there he gives them a flower he bought from Pierre’s that he knew was their favorite

Sure it cost him a pretty penny, but this was worth it, plus it looked nice in their hair either way

After sometime chatting and whatnot, he tells you how he feels while looking down at his reflection so he doesn’t have to look you in the eyes

He’s probably mumbling a bit but he’s doing his best

If they say no, he’d be heartbroken

He wouldn’t say anything about how bad he feels, but he does let out a small “oh.”

After that he asks if they can still at least be friends

The rest of the time is just rather awkward silence, before Shane gets up and goes home with his head hung low, feeling dejected

If they say yes, however he’s absolutely ecstatic

A part of him still kinda thought you would’ve still said no

So when you confirm that you feel the same way he can’t help but ramble a little, saying how great this is and how he’d love to go out somewhere with you sometime once he raises enough money

The rest of the night is spent chatting away with Shane while he held their hand looking up at the beautifully gleaming stars

And god, how he loves the way they reflect in your eyes <3

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kryptonitejelly · 2 years

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Flyboy (Part 2) | Jake Seresin x Reader Top Gun: Maverick - Jake Seresin x Reader Genre: romance; fluff; angst; best friends to lovers Warnings: general hangman being hangman; sexual tension; general cursing; will contain mentions of a break up / previous relationship; general use of pet names; fem!reader; pining; general naval / flying inaccuracies. Length: Mini-series, chaptered - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Epilogue

Summary: Jake gets called back to TOPGUN the same time you’ve been granted a sabbatical from work. He invites you, his purely platonic best friend of years, to live with him for 6 months and you accept. Just two best friends kicking it back for 6 months in San Diego, Fightertown USA, right?

A/N: Thank you all for the love that everyone has given to Flyboy. I’m so glad that you guys are enjoying this with me <3 I was not expecting all the love, and I hope the rest of Flyboy doesn’t dissapoint.

Flyboy | Mini-Series Masterlist

(If you haven’t already seen them - blurbs and asks (one-shots coming soon) are also listed on the Flyboy masterlist!)

Flyboy - Part 2

PART 1 <<

Approximately 5.1k words

The two weeks after the day you arrive in San Diego passes in a blur. You hardly see Jake in the two weeks, but being busy doesn’t give you much time to notice his absence.

He leaves you one of his credit cards, the small rectangle placed in the middle of the small kitchen island, with a text to your phone bestowing upon you the task to “get whatever else you need to make this place liveable”. You shoot off a text with a snark about how he had only invited you here for the help, and he only responds by sending you a wink. You slip his card into your wallet, but end up pulling out your own plastic anyway. There was no need for Jake Seresin to be paying for the pastel coloured ziplock bags you decided you needed, just because they looked nice, or for the extra cushions that the sofa just had to have.

Between buying bits for the house, which truth to be told was already stocked up on the essentials, you had ended up spending a majority of the two weeks answering work calls which were essentially a cry for help, kicking off desperate stray emails that were still pinging their way into your inbox, and tying off the last of the loose ends from stragglers at work pleading with you for guidance before you powered down your laptop for good over the next few months.

“Still on that laptop? I thought you were on sabbatical.” You look up at Penny who is polishing a glass behind the bar.

“People are a pain.” You grumble back in explanation as you roll your eyes.

“Shut it off.” She places the glass on the rack above while slinging the cloth across one of her shoulders. “They’ll figure it out.”

You press send on your last email, before jabbing a thumb down on the power button, watching the device splutter to black, before you push down the screen.

“Done.”

It earns you a cheer from Penny, and her teenage daughter Amelia who looks up from her book with a toothy smile to join her mother in your celebration.

“So, what’s on the agenda today?” Penny asks you, her hands on her hips. “More decorating?”

“No.” You laugh, slightly sheepish. It was clear to the three of you that Jake and your house was currently, hands down, the most decorated and furnished house in the community of aviators. “They are delivering my car today.” You grin, referring to the rental you had booked.

“The car? What did you pick in the end.” Amelia drops her book onto the counter as she slides a seat down to sidle up next to you. It was something you had been agonising over the past two weeks after it had become clear that renting a car for the next few months would be a necessity. You had gotten by with hailing cabs, booking ubers, and on occasion taking Jake’s truck when he decided to carpool in with someone else, but given the distance between places here, it wasn’t always the easiest thing to do.

“The range.” You respond, and Penny groans, shaking her head.

“What happened to cruising down the beach with your top down and hair flying in the wind.”

“I live in a gated community of largely male aviators,” you say as you cram your laptop back into your bag. “Can you imagine getting a porsche? I would never actually get the chance to drive the car myself.”

“I suppose.” She sighs, defeated by the truth of your words, as you slide off the bar stool.

“I’ll borrow yours if I want an adventure.”

“Not sure you could handle her, she’s got a temper.”

“Just like her owner.” You tease, only to earn a burst of laughter from Amelia.

You hug the teenager sideways, before leaning across the counter to hug Penny before ducking out the door to search for the staff delivering your rental.

Jake notices the black beast of a car sitting in the driveway as he drives down the street. It’s hard to miss even in the dark, the shine of the black paint shimmering in the streetlight above. It makes him shake his head and grill as pulls his truck up behind and kills the engine.

It had been a rough two weeks, with Cyclone calling the team back in at the last minute, for an intensive break down of the uranium mission, with hours in the air running practice rounds to see how the mission could have been carried out better in anticipation of the programme that was starting the next week. That coupled with mandated training that the team had to go through before they themselves could become the trainers, had him stumbling into bed in the wee hours, and waking up against at the crack of dawn to drag himself back to TOPGUN. It was hardly the way he intended to start the 6 months, but when duty called, Jake Seresin answered.

He enters the house as quietly as he can, locking the door behind him. He unlaces and yanks off his boots, before entering the living room to find you curled up on the sofa, a heap of fluff, or a throw bunched up around your shoulders, your eyes closed, mouth slightly open, cheek pressed against a cushion with your body splayed across the length of the sofa, the television playing softly in the background.

The sight sends a warmth spreading through his chest, and he hardly realises the soft smile that has flickered onto his face as he watches you sleep, your chest rising and falling in gentle waves. It had been the first day he had come home to find you asleep on the sofa.

He smells like a day of sweat, jet fuel and dust, but he pushes that out of his mind as he bends at the waist, easily slipping a hand beneath your neck and the other under your knees. He manages to hoist you up and into his arms with ease. The movement doesn’t disturb you, which is testament to you being a deep sleeper, and his face splits into a grin as you turn your face to snuggle into his chest, cheek rubbing against the fabric of his shirt. Your nose wrinkles for a moment, as the remnant fumes of jet fuel hits you, but you bring a hand up in your slumber to rib the tip of your nose and the smell is forgotten.

You’ve gotten lighter, he notes, since the last time he has had to carry you like this - 5 months ago, on the day you had told him you and Dan had broken up, when he had plied you with enough tequila to get you crying and blackout drunk with the result being he had to carry you to your best. It is he thinks, a combination of being on the mend from heartbreak, and overwork.

He manages to make his way into your bedroom to settle you on the bed before pulling the opposite side of your covers over you, wrapping you in like a human burrito.

“Jakey.” He hears you mumble as he turns to go. It makes him look down at you, only to find you still fast asleep. It puzzles him, why you would say his time old nickname in your sleep, but it also brings him a strange sense of both comfort and joy. He runs a knuckle gently down the side of your face, pushing back wisps of hair that have fanned out on your cheek.

“I miss you too darlin.” He murmurs, the words so soft he isn’t even sure he has said them.

Jake steps out of his room three mornings later, the smell of fresh coffee hitting his senses and it makes him pause, his hand on the door knob. Was it a burglary by the world’s friendliest - coffee and ‘hand over the goods’? He treads down the hallway, past the living room, dining area and into the kitchen where he finds you sitting on of one of the barstools, hunched over your own mug of coffee in front of you. Your eyes are hazed with sleep, hair messily piled on top of your head, body swaddled in one of his sweatshirts, paired off with a pair of pyjama shorts.

“Well would you look what the cat dragged out.”

“Good morning to you too Seresin.” You mumble, barely able to muster up the energy to return with a barb of your own. It was still dark out, your coffee yet untouched. You point wordlessly to the filled travel mug and granola bar placed on the small kitchen island beside you.

“That for me?” He asks, and you nod letting out a yawn, while propping your face up on both your palms.

He makes his way over beside you, settling sideways into the barstool on your right, an elbow on the counter of the island, knees facing your side.

“Think this belongs to me.” He tugs lightly on the sleeve of his sweatshirt. It was clear that you had gone rummaging in his closet. He only receives a slight shrug of your shoulder, you still not using words. “Go back to bed.”

“No.” Your protest sounds more like a stubborn whine, and you flap, or attempt to flap, a hand at him. You wouldn’t admit it outrightly even if he asked, but you had taken it upon yourself to drag yourself up a few minutes before he usually left for his day to pull together his coffee, because well, it had been a while since you had seen or spent any time with him.

“You’ve never been a morning person,” he reaches over for the travel mug and flips the lid open to take a sip.

You flip your left palm open to rest the full weight of your cheek on it, turning your face towards him, letting your right hand drop down to the surface of the island.

“And you’re welcome for the coffee.” Your gaze focuses on him, decked out in the khaki of his uniform with his white undershirt peeking out, face clean shaven, hair slicked back. It was hard to deny that the uniform suited him.

“Thanks,” he grins and offers you a belated thank you before taking another sip and popping the lid back on. He reaches over to grab the granola bar, picking up the travel mug along the way, before standing.

“Jake?”

He hums in acknowledgement, looking down to find your face now angled up to him.

“Fly safe.” You mumble, your voice still thick from sleep. You see him stare at you for a full three seconds, before his hand slips around your shoulders to pull you towards him. Your shoulder presses against his abdomen, and your face connects with his sternum as he holds you against him in a hug. Your hand that is at rest on the counter top instinctively moves to wrap itself around his waist, your thumb slotting itself into one of his belt loops. His hug catches you off guard, but at 5.30 in the morning you don’t have the mental facilities to overthink how domestic a morning with Jake Seresin of all people feels.

“Go,” you say against his shirt, and and you can both hear and feel the amusement in his reply as it rumbles through his chest.

“Got to let me go first sweetheart.”

“Gladly,” you want to roll your eyes, but you don’t because it is way too early. You pull yourself away from him, both elbows coming to a rest on the counter, face positioned above your still untouched cup of coffee.

Jake feels the lack of warmth against his body as you pull away, but he lets you and settles instead on flicking the messy up-do on your head before heading out into his day.

“It is the first weekend that you guys have been off, and the first thing you decide to do is have a barbecue with each other?” You snort in disbelief as you anchor your sunglasses on the top of your head while stepping into the store.

“Mav.” He states, as if the man’s call sign is explanation enough, and shrugs.

“Decided that he couldn’t go a day without see you lot?” You ask as you pull your phone out from your bag, searching for the message from Tash, listing out the items you both needed to procure.

“Decided that a barbecue would be a good way to meet the trainees before we start the programme next Monday.” He explains in full as he slides his own shades off, anchoring them to the front collar of his tshirt. Jake cranes his neck over your shoulder to peer at your phone. “I still don’t get why Pheonix texted you instead of me.” He grouses.

“Because Tash, knows if she leaves it to you, you’ll not turn up with half the items on the list.”

“Tash?” He raises a brow. “You guys best friends now?” He feigns mock hurt.

“The best.” You say emphasising both words, and he narrows his eyes at you, slinging an arm around your neck, pulling your head against his. Your sunglasses knock against the side of his hair and you stumble slightly, your sandals smacking against the floor.

“I didn’t bring you here to have myself replaced.”

“Then you better up your game Seresin.” You struggle fruitlessly against his hold. “Instead of trying to strangle me in the middle of goddamn public.”

“Shall we, my lady?” He releases his hold on you, and presents you with his arm instead.

“A gentleman?” You question and he sticks his arm an inch more towards you. You sigh loudly in defeat before slipping your hand through the crook his arm creates to hold onto his bicep.

“Lead the way.”

“Someone,” Rooster slides onto the bench beside Jake, shades covering his eyes although the sun is fast setting, “is hitting on your girl.”

Jake tears his attention away from his conversation with Payback, both men sticking their heads up like gophers in the sand, eyes searching the aviator crowd, largely comprising of trainees, that dot the beach space just beyond The Hard Deck. Jake doesn’t protest at Rooster’s use of the term “your girl”, but his eyes narrow as he spots you standing in the crowd, red solo cup in hand, your hair glinting in the soft glow of the generous string of lights dotting the space overhead.

He watches as one of the trainees, tall, dark hair, chiseled face, makes you laugh, as he shifts another inch closer to you, watches as you laugh along. The trainee says something else, and his hand reaches out to touch your elbow, and Jake’s fingers tighten around the neck of the beer bottle he has dangling from his grip.

“Aaand she’s passing over her phone,” Payback narrates the scene as it unfolds, the three men watching as the trainee takes the device from your hand and keys in a string of numbers. “And saved.” Payback finishes with a flourish as the trainee returns your phone, and you clutch it back within your grip.

“Must be tough,” Rooster claps Jake on the back and Jake grits his teeth.

“S’ not like we are together.” He mutters as he takes a swig of beer, and Payback and Rooster find themselves exchanging a glance over his head. “We’re friends.” He shrugs.

You are talking to Penny when you feel your phone, which is grasped in your hand that is hanging loosely by your side, tugged out.

“Penny.” The familiar drawl hits your ears and you don’t bother turning around. Instead, you raise your hand, palm upturned to ask for the return of your phone.

“Hangman,” she greets him in return before shaking her head, her lips slightly upturned, “I’ll leave you two to it.”

“Asking for something?” Jake’s question rings out from behind you, your palm still upturned.

“You know what I’m asking for.”

You feel fingers sliding over your palm, coming to nestle in the space between your own, bending to settle on the back of your upturned palm, his own palm pressed against yours. It makes you whip your head up to stare at him.

“You weren’t asking for my hand?” He says, wide eyed and innocent as he tugs your combined hands down in between you.

“I was asking for my phone,” you blink as you try to free your hand from his grip, but to no luck.

“I need a drink,” he says and begins to stride towards the coolers, your hand still firmly in his. It forces you to follow along, both of you weaving through the crowd, you just a step behind him.

“You can get a drink without manhandling me.” You grumble as you both come to a stop in front of the coolers.

“This isn’t manhandling darlin,” he says as he scans the coolers before picking a beer. “It’s helping.” He tilts the bottle towards you, and tips his chin towards the bottle opener hanging by the coolers.

“Helping?” You scoff your question out as you pick up the bottle opener with your free hand and pop off the top for him.

“Helping,” he affirms and takes a gulp from the bottle. He shifts you both around to face the crowd. “To ward off unwanted attention.”

His words shift the gears in your mind and understanding dawns on you.

“Nate,” you use the name of the trainee who had slipped his number into your phone earlier on, “is not unwanted attention.”

“Isn’t Nate, a child?”

“Younger by a couple of years I think,” you shrug, you gaze darting lazily across the crowd, but not searching for anyone in particular “would make for good fun, with all the time I have.” You are half joking.

“If you wanted fun, all you had to do was ask.” He drops your hand but slides his arm around your waist, his hand coming to rest on your hip. He pulls you towards him so that your side is pressed against his. The movement makes you place your own hand on the small of his back, your face tilting up to face a lazy smirk.

“Manhandling me for the ten millionth time this trip Jake.” You push your other hand against his chest, but he doesn’t budge. You catch Penny and Mav’s darting a glance at you both from the corner of your eye.

“Darlin, you haven’t seen handling yet.” He drops the man from manhandling, both to emphasise that he means no harm, and also for innuendo. He squeezes your waist causing the fabric of your dress to scrunch up slightly, skimming an inch higher above your thigh. Your hand goes lax against his chest at the gesture. Jake had always been flirty, whether to you, the lady at the corner deli, or even the gas station attendant, it was just a part of him, and something you had gotten used to, but if the fluttering feeling at the pit of your stomach and beating of your heart in your chest was anything to go by, this - this felt different.

“I’ll take my chances with Nate, thank you very much.” You collect yourself, hand twisting down to the back pocket of his jeans where you pull your stolen phone out from his pocket. “Now, if you’ll let me go before you ruin my chances with any of these men.”

You both hold each others gazes, your hand now clutching your phone, brushing against the back pocket of his jeans, his hand still planted firmly on your waist.

“I’ll let you go,” he brings his face down, closer to yours, and you find yourself staring at his lips, eyes, and the soft flop of his product free hair over his forehead. “But behave.”

True to his word, he lets you go, and you clear your throat, meeting Pheonix’s eyes from across the space, she waggles her brows at you and tilts her head. You clear your throat, avoiding her gaze and a few other glances at both of you, snatching the beer bottle from Jake’s hand, and putting it to your lips. Men.

The rest of the night had gone by without much of a hitch, but after Jake Seresin’s little show, which Penny had informed you later that everyone had noticed, you hadn’t been approached or spoken to by anyone else apart from the core team of aviators.

You weren’t entirely sure what angle Jake was playing, but you couldn’t say you were surprised either. He had always had something to say about whatever guy you were dating, or whatever boyfriend you had at the time, but he usually had the sense to keep his opinions and actions more measured. It was strange, you had told him before, that he had any views and opinions on the matter given that Jake himself had been in a grand total of two serious relationships in his life, the last of which ended before he headed off for the Navy. Since then, he had been a casual, no-strings type of guy who settled for casual relationships that spanned weeks to a few months, or a mutually beneficial type of arrangement or understanding with whatever his flavour of the moment was. It wasn’t that he didn’t have his fair share of admirers or girls who tried to lock him in for the long run, it was just, as he had told you, he wasn’t interested in anything long term.

Lacing up your running shoes with a little more force than necessary as you think back to the night before, you follow the action by stuffing your earphones into your ears and flicking on your music from your smart watch.

You are on your second round around the compound when he catches up with you, falling into a comfortable pace beside you. You see his lips move, and you can make out the words from the shape of his lips, despite not being able to hear him through the music blaring in your ears - race you, if I win you delete Nate’s number. He holds up 4 fingers, to indicate four rounds around the compound, and takes off with a bound in his step, not waiting for you to follow.

You manage to match his pace, but barely and not with the ease at which he is running, something which you aren’t all too surprised by. You aren’t a teenager anymore, and being one of the best pilots requires a certain level of fitness. You both see your house in sight, and he grins at you before sprinting off. You try your best, legs moving, arms pumping, to catch up with him, but he soars easily across the invisible finish line before you and jogs a circle before coming to a halt. You on the other hand, sprint past the line, and collapse onto the driveway.

“Not fair.” You manage to gasp out as you rip your earphones from your ears, your words coming out in short fast pants. “You’re fit, and started two rounds later.”

“You should have just run faster.” He says and tugs his shirt off his head before falling into a seated position, legs spread out in front of him, on the driveway beside you.

“I was running fast.” You shoot daggers at him from your eyes, sweat trickling down the sides of your temples. “Can’t you see my sweat?” You gesture to your face, and he throws you a look and laughs.

“A deal’s a deal.” He grins as he turns his face back up to the sky, shuttering his eyes as he lets the sun bask down on him, causing the sheen of sweat on his face and body to glow.

“I made no deal.” You tug at your shirt which sticks to your body with sweat.

“Hand it over.”

“I don’t have my phone with me.”

He looks back down to you, eyes squinting in the sunlight.

“It’s alright, we’ll get to it later.”

You roll your eyes, and both of you fall silent, basking in the rays of the sun.

“You know,” you say as you climb into the passenger’s seat of your car before shutting the door behind you. “You could pass off as a dad with three kids.”

Jake gives you a puzzled look, and you gesture around you. You had both decided to go out for a Sunday brunch after the early morning torture run which your jog had morphed into.

“It’s the car, it’s got the dad with kids vibes going for you.”

He shakes his head in disagreement, but ignores your comment, sticking out his palm in front of your face.

“What?” You ask.

“Phone.” He responds, and you shake your head no. “We raced, I won.”

“You’re a bully.” You ignore his hand and buckle yourself into the seat.

“I’ll help myself.” He warns, and you sigh before pulling your phone from your bag and dumping it in his hand.

He makes quick work of unlocking it, and deleting Nate’s number before passing it back to you.

“Done.”

“Bully.” You mumble as he shifts the car out of park and backs out of the driveway.

“Honey I’m home.” You hear the voice break through the silence, and you identify it as Rooster.

“Bradley.” You greet, using his actual name, as the moustached man walks in, grinning from ear to ear.

“Always wanted to try that out and see how it sounds.” He says.

It earns him a smack on the back of his head from Jake who walks in after him, Payback, Fanboy, Coyote, Bob and Pheonix following behind. “Then find a wife.”

“Trace is available.” Fanboy smirks as he nudges Phoenix forward, which causes her ears to tinge with pink. You hide your smile as you busy yourself with pulling out plates from the cupboard. Tash’s not so subtle crush on Rooster had been obvious to you and anyone around you from day 1, and if your hunch was anything to go by, Rooster shared the same sentiments.

“Fuck off Fanboy.” Tash pushes him out of her way as she comes up behind you to gather cutlery.

The rest, still joking, fall into line, each gathering the various utensils and dishes off the counter and stove, before filtering into the dining room. With the trainees in, their programme had slowed down considerably, being the ones to help with doling out the train still meant early starts to the day, but it also meant early ends to their day. It had become a routine of sorts that had started with Tash coming over to join you for dinner, which had to include Jake because he lived here, and you were soon joined by Rooster and Bob who had heard from Tash, Coyote who had heard from Jake, Payback who had heard from Rooster and Fanboy who had heard from Payback. Before you knew it, they were wiring you money for grocery expenses and you had somehow become the designated dinner chef of the group. You didn’t mind however, because they chipped in to help clean up, after which majority of the time, you would all pile into a car or two and drive off to The Hard Deck.

“How was the day?” You ask to no one in particular when you are all settled around the table, each passing along the trays of food.

“Your toyboy messed up today.” Coyote says as he passes on a plate of roast potatoes.

“Toyboy?”

“Nate.” Tash explains to you, none of them aware that you never reached out to him because you were made to delete his number from your phone - something that you honestly weren’t too bothered about, despite what you let Jake think.

“Someone here made him hammer out 300 push ups.” Payback scoops up a handful of carrots before passing the tray down the table, his eyes shooting towards Jake.

“That’s mean.” You say as you scoop a spoon of potatoes onto your own plate.

“I’ll say.” Rooster.

“He’ll thank me for better arms and a chest.” Is all Jake offers as he spears a piece of chicken onto your plate, and then his.

“See you guys.” You call out, waving a hand up in the arm to the group disappearing down the street, each heading back to their own houses.

“Tomorrow!” You hear Tash shout back and you blow her a kiss before locking the door behind you. The group had made a collective decision to sit out going to The Hard Deck tonight, a combination of being both stuffed and lazy.

You hear your phone ring, the accompanying vibration buzzing in your pocket. You pull it out swiping across to answer and put it to your ear.

“You haven’t forgotten my wedding is next weekend have you.” Annie, one of your closer friends from work’s voice crackles across the line.

“Hello to you too, and no I haven’t forgotten.” You walk back into the kitchen, phone pressed to your ear, to find Jake cracking open a can of soda. He looks at you questioningly before leaning over the counter.

“You are bringing a plus one are you?” She asks, and you frown slightly, you had returned to invite 8 months ago when you and Dan were still together.

“A plus one,” you echo out.

“Please tell me you’ve found one, remember when we talked about this at lunch and you said you would. My mother in law will go insane if I change the seating charts again.”

“I’ll bring one.” You confirm as you eye Jake who is sipping out of the can, still looking at you questioningly.

“Great, you’re the best.” You can hear her sigh of relief, and you chuckle, if the stories she had told were anything to go buy, Annie’s mother in law was the mother in law from hell. “By the way,” she starts up again and you hum in question, “I thought you should know, Dan is coming as Lexi’s plus one.”

“I see…” you trail off as she breaks the news to you.

“I didn’t know they were a thing.”

“Well, as we’ve established, there’s a lot no one knows about Dan.” You grumble out, and you see Jake straighten up, brows knotting into a deep frown at the mention of the name Dan.

“Well alright, I’ll see you next weekend. Please make sure you get me drunk.”

“I’m not sure your mother in law would be too happy about that.” You laugh into the phone as you both bid each other goodbye before hanging up.

“What about Dan?” Jake’s focuses in on you the moment the phone drops from your ear. “Please tell me you aren’t seeing that son of a bitch again.”

“My friend from work, Annie, she’s getting married next weekend. It’s back out in New York. Dan’s going.” You shrug.

“Then I’m going.” He says immediately, his chest puffing out slightly, stance changing to protective.

“Well guess it’s a good thing that I’ve room for a plus one. It’s on Saturday, but I have to be there on Friday to help out at the rehersal.”

“I’ll take the Thursday, Friday and Monday off.” He commits instantly, easily, without a beat, faster than any one of your past boyfriends had ever committed to anything, and you nod, finding yourself thinking thank god for Jake Seresin.

>> PART 3

Series taglist: @blue-aconite @rosiahills22 @luckyladycreator2 @britty443 @yanak324 @rule107 @fuckyeahhangman @spidey-d00d @dempy @barista-library @alexwinchester23 @shakira-sasha @bxwitched @lumenseal @obiwankenobis-lap @prettybiching @littlebadariell @actuallybarb @beaner-life-23 @coco-loco-nut @criminalyetminimal @tragzerus @alana4610 @tkmarvel-divergentbish @kilojulietsierra

#flyboy #top gun: maverick #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #hangman seresin #jake seresin fic #hangman fic #hangman top gun #jake seresin fanfiction #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman imagine #jake seresin imagine #not cm #flyboy fic

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the-fiction-witch · 1 month

Text

Corset

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating Smutty

I sat on the theatre steps to have a breather from the day of various work, Jack sat a few steps above me, he'd fetched us both a beer from the hospital kitchens so he sat down and popped the bottle caps off with his fingers. He offered me the bottle so I took it in my hand and took a sip.

"How'd you do that?" I asked,

"Humm?" He asked as he glanced over to me as he sipped his own beer,

"How'd you do that? Take the caps off."

He shrugged, "It's not hard,"

"Explain it then?"

"If you push on it at the place it just pops off." He explained as he tossed the bottle cap from her beer between his fingers as he often does with his lucky penny,

I rolled my eyes, "another of the skills with your quick nibble surgeon fingers,"

"Kinda," He smirked, "One of my many skills,"

"What are your other skills?" I asked,

"Well..." He smirked, "I am a genius surgeon,"

"Debatable,"

"I am an expert poker player,"

"doubtful,"

"A fantastic pickpocket,"

"That's not something to be proud of Jack,"

"I can open bottles with my fingers,"

"Useless if one owns a bottle opener," I laughed, "Anything else?"

"...I can whistle?"

"So can like eighty percent of the population, Jack,"

"I can... peal an orange one-handed?"

"...Can you?"

"I can,"

"...w-wh- Why? When? How did you find out you could do that?"

"I get an orange for breakfast most days, and I can't be asked to take both hands out my covers."

"Not really a very useful skill is it?"

"say what you will I get to keep one hand still in my covers on a cold morning and I think that's pretty great,"

"Umm it's what you're doing with that hand that worried me," I rolled my eyes,

"Oooh that's another thing I can do-"

"I don't wanna know!"

"Don't you?"

"NO!"

"Ohh... you sure you don't wanna know?"

"Fine..." I sighed,

"six minutes."

"That... that is not something to be proud of Jack,"

"I think it is," He shrugged, "Six minutes and I can use the rest of my time to nap. It's fucking great."

"Alright, alright. I'm not going to go there," I chuckled, "That the end of your list of skills then Doctor Dawkins?"

"I can remove a corset one-handed,"

"...No you can't,"

"Yes, I can,"

"No. you can't."

"Yes. I can."

"That's impossible,"

"I can do it, one-handed. under a minute."

"Jack. I have been wearing a corset every day since I was ten, you can not remove a corset with one hand."

"Try me,"

"You know what," I glared finishing my drink and getting up starting to undo my dress, as I walked down to the main theatre floor and I slipped off my dress leaving me in my boots, stockings, underdress and of course my corset. "Fine."

"... I'm kinda tired..."

"No. no. no, You said you could do it."

He came down beer in hand and paced around me, "No, wrong type of corset."

"No, you said you could do it."

"...What in it for me if I can?" He crossed his arms,

"I'll buy you beer,"

"I have Beer,"

"... I'll put Sneed on all the early shifts for the next week,"

"Ooohh..." He smirked, "That's enticing,"

"We have a deal?"

"...Maybe," he smirked, "You put Sneed on all the early shifts for a month,"

"Week."

"Two weeks."

"Fine,"

"And!"

"And?"

"And... once your corsets off," he smirked as he moved, closer so his hot breath with the scent of his beer close to my face, "You let me fondle those," He smirked as he glanced down at my breasts,

"Jack!" I protested as I put a hand over my cleavage,

"That's my terms,"

"Alright, IF and only If you can remove my corset, one-handed, in under a minute, I'll put Sneed on the early shifts for two weeks and you can put one hand on them,"

"Both."

"One."

"both and a squeeze?"

"One and a fondle,"

"Both and a fondle?"

"...Fine," I sighed,

"Yes," He smirked,

"But. if you can't do it... I get to put you on all the early shifts for a month."

"Deal," He smirked as he offered his hand,

I shook his hand and turned away from him, He smirked and paced around me he set his beer on the table, intertwined his fingers and stretched his arms before then giving his fingers a roll.

"Hey. one-handed," I warned,

He rolled his eyes and sighed, "Fine."

"I don't trust you."

"I'll even hold my beer. So you know I'm only using one hand."

"Alright, you have one minute-"

"I won't need it,"

"And... start," I told him,

He just smirked sipped his drink and rested his hand on the centre of my corset his fingers gripped the left side and his palm held the right side he gripped it and shifted it letting the front clips all move and shift so the second he removed his hand the corset clips snapped open and the corset fell to the floor. I was shocked my jaw fell to the floor as I stared at him. He smirked with that cocky smile and took another sip of his drink. "Told Ya."

"wh- wh- How- A- Ho- W- Wha- How'd you-" I stuttered, "What the hell Jack!"

"I told you I could do it," he smirked,

"What kinda business! Are you getting up to that you can do that!"

"I'm a doctor." He glared,

"That is not an excuse."

"Yes, it is, what if you were having a heart attack or breathing problems and I needed to get your corset off? Don't you want your doctor to be able to do it quickly and one-handed so I can use the other hand to help you faster?"

"Still!" I protested, "How often are you doing this! How much practice at removing ladies' corsets are you getting to do it that fast!"

"Never you mind," he smirked, "Now... my prize please,"

"Fine, I'll make sure Sneed's on all the early shifts on the next rotas,"

"Thank you,"

I rolled my eyes and went to grab my dress but he grabbed my hand, "Ah. ah. ha. And my other prize?"

"I do not recall any other prize," I lied,

"Liar. Come on your corset's already off just let me have my prize," he smirked as he wrapped his arms around my waist and nuzzled into my neck,

"Fine," I sighed, "Over my underdress!"

"Ohh under your dress?" he smirked,

"No!" I protested, "I said Over. My. Underdress."

"Awww fine," He whined,

His hands quickly slipped up my cotton underdress and he took a firm grip on my breasts, I sighed and did my best not to enjoy it as he fondled and gently squeezed them.

"Okay, that's enough." I told him as I pushed his hands off,

"Fine," He sighed,

"That the end of your list of skills then?"

"Well, I have one more,"

"Oh?"

"I am a phenomenal lover," He whispered in my ear,

"Umm I'll take your word for it." I rolled my eyes,

"Aw you don't wanna test me on that one?" he smirked nuzzling his nose into my cheek,

"No, I'll believe you."

"What if I want you to test me?"

"... Fine, but I only have to put Sneed on the early rota for one week,"

"Deal," he smirked, "You are so cute when you're mad at me,"

"I'm always mad at you,"

"I know, means you're always cute," he smiled as he kissed my cheek, "Now... Lets head upstairs so I can prove it," he smirked as he picked me up and threw me on his shoulder,

"Jack!" I protested,

"Oohh get use to screaming that darling," he smirked as he grabbed his beer and carried me up to his room.

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miss-spookhead · 18 days

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thinking about a Blast From the Past steddie au tonight. like, think about it for a second--steve as the sweet, well-meaning himbo raised in a fallout shelter and eddie as the cynic who shows him the world as it is:

The year was 1962, and an atomic bomb had just dropped on top of the Harrington household.

Okay, not really. It was actually a fighter jet that suffered a mechanical failure just above the little plot of land the Harringtons called their home, but Walter Harrington took it differently. Far differently.

See, the thing was that the man was living in a state of paranoid delusion over the Cold War--terrified of the possibility of an outright nuclear holocaust over the Cuban Missile Crisis and the Soviet Union. He had been carefully building a fallout shelter under his home for his wife and possible children to live in with the works--canned food, running water, and even a working television.

And one day they went in and simply never left. The explosion right when they closed the door was tangible proof that the nuclear war was happening right above them.

A few years later, around 1968, a baby boy was born in a fallout shelter with no one but his mom and dad to keep him company.

They raised Steve the best they could, even if Walter Harrington was a mad genius and Madeline Harrington was a borderline alcoholic. Even if the boy was living in a perfect little time capsule of the fifties and early sixties. Walter made sure to educate him right and teach him how to be a sociable gentleman--even if he had no idea what swear words or the concept of sex were. That was for another time. Although, twenty-four years came and went for Steve Harrington, his father still owes him 'another time'.

Steve Harrington grows twenty-four years in perfect seclusion, but that changes at the flick of a switch.

The year is 1992: supplies are dwindling Walter is growing sick, and Steve is tasked to bravely set foot in the nuclear fallout to retrieve more material. (The only reason why Walter assumes they can even get more stuff is because he observed the outside world when the shelter unlocked and mistook it as a post-apocalyptic mutant society.)

The moment Steve made it outside his little bubble, he was utterly fascinated by the world--how different the people were outside of his television and his little books, how bright the sky was outside, how the irritable man on the bus wouldn't accept the money he tried to give him, how the bus moved and didn't fling him right off his seat.

(He even saw an adult bookstore. Dad told him that those things were filled with poisonous gas. How were they even to operate if they were filled with poisonous gas? That's dangerous and totally inconsiderate of the general public's safety.)

Anyway, he tries to follow the grocery list that Mom and Dad gave him the best he can, stocking up on poultry and tissue paper and the works. But by the end of the day, he doesn't know where he came from. Not a single sign or building or person can give him a single clue where to go.

After a few hours of wandering, suitcase in hand, he comes across a store with WE BUY BASEBALL CARDS written on the window.

Golly, Steve loves baseball cards--could look at Dad's collection for hours, and with the collection he has, he could make a pretty penny selling them for supplies. Despite the little hobby store being beside an adult bookstore with poisonous gas, he scampers right in.

"I see you're looking to buy baseball cards," he says breezily to the gruff, scary-looking man behind the counter.

"That I am," he replies.

Steve pulls a few from his jacket's inner pocket. "Well, these are a bit old, you see, but I was hoping you still might be interested."

The gruff man yanks them from his hands, a spark in his eye. He looks delighted to see them, and it fills Steve with an excitement he hadn't felt at all today. Nobody has been this happy over something he's done today. "Woah," he gasps, then covers it with a cough. "Mickey Mantle rookie season...how much do you want?"

"I was hoping to sell all of my cards, actually!"

The man sputters incredulously. "All of 'em? Are you fucking with me?"

"I'm not sure what that means, but all I have are hundred-dollar bills and I need something smaller. Like, uh...ones, tens, fives..."

"Tell you what, I'll give you five hundred in small bills for all you got."

Steve smiles brightly. "Oh, that would be wonderful, sir--"

"Five hundred for a case-full of rookie season Mickey Mantles, Rick, are you fucking joking?" A deep voice cuts through Steve's thanks from the other side of the small store. He turns around to find a man leaning against a magazine rack, arms folded sternly.

The man is unlike Steve's ever seen before. Long, long limbs and big brown eyes that look traced with black and smudged around the edges. Pretty lips, too almost girl-ish, in the way they were big and plush like the women he'd see on the television. The strangest thing about him, though, was the curly hair that tumbled past his shoulders.

He looked mad, though. Madder than mad.

"Tell the poor guy you're fucking with him," long-hair-pretty-lips says to the man behind the counter, who bristles.

"Were you raised in a fucking barn, Munson? Who told you to interrupt on business?" Rick counters. Steve was really not appreciating the amount of f-words dropped in the conversation, it was uncouth.

"Sure I was!" Munson saunters towards the counter and Steve's eyes follow him like a moth to a light. "But my morals go past your business practices at this point. You remember the ninth commandment, yeah?"

"You shut your Goddamn mouth--"

"Excuse me sir, but I really don't appreciate how you're using the Lord's name in vain like that," Steve says firmly.

"See?" Munson smiles. It's like sunlight. "He gets it."

He plucks the baseball card from Rick's hand and holds it over his head when he tries to reach for it again. "See this little thing?" He says to Steve sweetly. "This guy costs six grand alone."

"Get out of town! Really?"

"Oh yeah, big guy. Selling the thing would give you a small fortune, and Rick over here is trying to con you out of it."

Steve frowns. "Is that true?" He asks Rick.

"Nothing but," Munson says in place of him. He slips the card back into Steve's hands and gives them a pat.

"The Hell is even keeping you here, Munson?" Rick sneers. "Did the gig you won't shut up about fall through like they usually do? Better to bum it out here than in your shithole apartment? Stop loitering in my damn store and make like a fucking tree. You're banned."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," Munson says rolling his eyes. He looks at Steve, then the door, gesturing at it with a flick of his head. "I'll see you out, Beaver."

He walks them both out the door, stopping to gesture at Rick strangely--hands balled into fists with only his middle fingers up--before stepping outside onto the sidewalk.

"Well merci, Monsieur," Steve says appreciatively, because Dad taught him French was always to be used on such occasions.

"What, you're French?"

"Oh no, I'm"--he thinks back to what Dad told him if a mutant asks where he's from. Gosh, he thinks he's supposed to be--"out on business."

"And you don't even have a clue about the little business trick that Rick tried to pull?"

"No...no, I--"

"Yeah, doesn't matter." Munson shrugs. He smiles sympathetically at Steve before turning on his heel and walking off. Oh boy, what would he do without him?

He follows him like a lost puppy, that's what.

"...You going the same way?" Munson asks incredulously. Steve shakes his head.

"Well, I'm following you."

Munson stops in his tracks, blinking, and Steve almost runs into him in his state. "Me?"

"Well yes! Where are we going?"

"We?" Munson asserts. "I'm going back to my shithole apartment, and judging by that jacket you're wearing, you should be taking the next left and hop-skipping straight to the barber college."

"Oh, I'm lost, though."

"Aren't we all?"

"Say, did you just get banned from that hobby store because of me?" Steve says to change the subject.

Munson sighs. "Seems like I did, sailor. The place was shitty anyways, with that dickhead running the operation. Wayne could get better cards from a different joint."

...dickhead? Steve's never heard that leave the seams of anyone's lips before. "Dickhead?"

"Yeah, he's a real fucking loser. A walking talking penis capable of human speech."

Steve gets queasy at the image he's concocted in his head. He leans against the nearest brick wall, his suitcase tumbling to the ground as he drops into a contemplative squat.

"Dude, what is wrong with you?"

"Well, the mental image that I..."

Munson's eyebrows scrunch before he reaches out a hand to Steve. He takes it, letting the man haul him upward. "Look, man, where'd you park your car?"

"I came by bus."

"Aren't you full of surprises."

"I am?"

"Okay look." Eddie raises his hands, palms splayed in the air. "It's your first time in Los Angeles, right? Everyone wants a taste of it, I know, and you're out for business and fucking famished. You got the opportunity to see the great big world outside of your little bubble and you got excited--but you took a bus and got mixed up in the middle of San Fernando Valley without a clue in the world. Am I correct?"

Steve listens in wonderment. So far, Munson's been correct in a way. He's convinced he might be psychic. He nods slowly and seriously just to see Munson flash that lighting-strike smile.

"Great, great. Which brings us to here. Correct again?"

"Oh yeah."

"Where are you staying?"

Nowhere, at the moment. Steve opens his mouth to say so, but Munson interrupts quickly. "Holiday Inn?"

"Yes, the Holiday Inn!" Steve says totally truthfully.

"Okay, cool. Cool." Munson claps his hands together with finality and starts walking. "The nearest bus station is a couple of blocks away if you take a right--"

"Don't you have a car?"

Munson stops in his tracks again. He turns to face Steve once again. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

Something warm pools in Steve's gut at the pet name. Something about the way those pretty lips form that word sends blood rushing to his cheeks. "Steve," he says.

"Alright, Steve." Oh boy, his name sounds even better when Munson says it. "Rule number one in Los Angeles? Never let a stranger drive you anywhere."

"If it makes you feel any better," Steve says sweetly, "I don't have a gun."

Munson pales, then starts running.

"Hey!" Steve cries and makes haste to follow him. "I must've said something wrong, please forgive me!"

"Nope, nope--get the fuck away from me, man!"

He grabs Munson's wrist to pull him back, which is a bad move since the man starts writhing around in his grip. "I'm not going to hurt you, sir!"

Steve drops Munson's hand and raises his in surrender. "See?"

"...Just let me get to my car."

"I'll give you a Rogers Hornsby if you take me to my hotel," Steve reasons.

Munson stills. "...That's like four grand, don't bullshit me."

He pulls the card from his jacket and presents it as evidence. "See? I was holding it back." He wants Munson to feel safe. "I got two." He reaches for the other cards in his pockets and pulls them out. "And-and all these other ones, too!"

"Okay, okay. You'll give me four thousand dollars if I drive you to your place?"

"Uh-uh!"

"That's it?"

"Yep."

"And I don't have to give you a quickie in the backseat or anything?"

"Yes sir--wait, what?"

Munson blows past his question like it didn't even leave Steve's mouth. "Can you stop with the sir crap?"

"Well, I'm sorry, sir--"

"My name is Eddie."

Eddie...Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. Wow, what a name. It's almost like something he's heard on the television.

"Why, it's nice to meet you, Eddie."

"Tolerable to meet you too, Steve."

Steve smiles shyly, then asks, "So are you a girl?"

"Excuse me?"

"Well it's just your hair...it's so long." Steve points at his as an example. "I've never seen anything like it before."

"Dude, it's 1992, every other guy looks like this--have you been living under a rock or something?"

Something like that. Steve shrugs.

"Well guys having long hair doesn't mean that they're girls, Steve, that's a given. It's not 1962 anymore." Eddie backtracks. "Well, I mean, dudes can have long hair and be chicks and chicks can be dudes too but that's not--"

"Oh, wow, my dad told me about one of those the last time he went here!"

"Oh that's fantastic, sweetheart," Eddie says, sugary-sweet. "But how about I drive you home?"

"That'd be a pleasure, Eddie."

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sharemarketinsider · 10 months

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Investing in Small-Cap vs. Large-Cap Stocks: Pros and Cons

#small cap stocks #large cap stocks #investing #small cap investing #investing in small cap stocks #mid cap stocks #stocks #investing for beginners #investing in small cap etfs #value investing #small cap stock investing #what are small cap stocks #large cap mid cap and small cap stocks #small cap vs large cap stocks #buying and selling small cap stocks #small cap investing strategies #how to invest in penny stocks #how to analyze stocks to buy #penny stocks

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manias-wordcount · 6 months

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Only Girl in the World (Evelynn x Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗵𝗶 𝗴𝘂𝘆𝘀 𝗶𝗺 𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗱𝗶𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘀 𝗺𝗲? 𝗮𝗹𝘀𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝗮 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗺𝘆 𝗾𝘂𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘃 𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗵𝗲𝗲. 𝗼𝗸 𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝘁𝗼 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗴𝘂𝗹𝗮𝗿𝗹𝘆 𝘀𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗱𝘂𝗹𝗲𝗱 𝘂𝗽𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗲𝘀

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

It was a couple of dates in when Evelynn told you that she wanted to take you dancing.

Now, you’ve been dancing before. On dates, with friends, by yourself- the whole gauntlet. So you figured you knew how this was going to go. Another club with bright lights and loud music and overpriced drinks that might knock you onto your ass if you smile at the bartender enough. Something and someplace so you could close your eyes, throw your arms around her shoulders, and sway your hips together, pretending that you’re the only two people in the room. If you pregamed enough beforehand, you might not even have to pretend.

But now the night has come and you suddenly don’t find yourself in just another club with bright lights and loud music. Instead, it’s a bar with warm, dim lights and a dance floor. Wood accents and the live music was just quiet enough for people to speak at a somewhat normal volume. And the alcohol here costs a pretty penny, but the bottles are nice and the stock shelf is stock full of liquor you’ve only joked about buying with your friends. It’s hard not to feel underdressed in your tiny little black dress and clunky heels that are clearly the least expensive items here. It’s hard not to feel unprepared when the first thing your date does is feed you a drink that is hard to pronounce yet so easy on the throat.

And it’s hard not to feel out of place when the second she makes you take the floor with her, the room seems to stop.

The chatter feels like it’s nonexistent. The music feels like it’s been silent. The eyes and mouths in the room seemed to have turned their attention to you. And the lights that were so warm yet so dim feel brighter and colder than ever. Because the moment she steps onto the stage with a sway of her hips and a confident look on her gorgeous face, the room just stops. Stops and stares. Stops and gawks. Stops and savors. But most of all? They- the room- everything just stops.

And conveniently so does your heart. And your breathing. And your mind and your everything. Because here you were, thinking it would be a night nice enough to enjoy but quickly forget. Because here you are quickly realizing that as she places one hand on your hip while the other threads between your fingers, it’s about to be a night you’ll never forget.

“Breathe, darling.”

For better.

“Just follow my lead. And I’ll show you a good time, hmm?”

Or for worse.

Still, you find the part of you that’s still desperately into her nodding along meekly as her head dips down by your ear. Her words crawl against your skin. It causes shivers to run up and down your body. And her touch spreads fire to your blood. Red and hot. And you find yourself swallowing down an embarrassing sound. One that you know the entire bar will swallow whole if you’re not careful. One that you know she will devour if you’re not smart. But as she presses against your body, and holds you so tight, you can’t help but wonder if that’s what you want. Because now, you’re almost certain…

“Good girl~”

That’s what you’re going to get.

A second later, you feel like the music has started back up again. Playing a melody that you’ve heard before but never paid attention to. A song that you never thought that would ever be played for you. But you don’t have time to think about that. You don’t have time to dwell on that. You don’t. She doesn’t let you.

Because before you know it, you’re being swept off your feet. She’s moving. You’re moving. The two of you are moving. Walking to the side, she moves with confident steps- feet that know what they’re doing and where they need to go. And you’re left with no choice but to follow. Left with no choice but to gasp you stumble over your own feet in surprise and tot try to keep up as she pulls you along to the rhythm of the music. She flashes you a smile as you try to fall in time with her. But the only look you can give her is full of wide eyes and parted lips that have so many questions to ask.

And not a voice left to ask them with.

She laughs at your expression. A warm, almost sweet laugh. As if you’re more cute to her rather than embarrassing. But you feel a different sort of way. A way that’s confusing. That turns your stomach into knots. A way that has you remembering that there are people all around you. People behind the bar, making the drinks. People on the stage, playing the music. People surrounding the dance floor, speaking life into the room. People surrounding the two of you, sparking fear into yourself.

As yet, it still feels like for some moments- for some mere seconds. Between missteps and wrong moves, you could feel it. You swear you could feel it. The little know the feeling that only get when you swear it’s only you and her in the room. Only you and her in the world. Only you and her that matter. And this time, you didn’t even have to pretend. You didn’t even have to be drunk either. She just existed. And took you along for the ride too.

“You’ve never danced the tango before, have you darling?” She whispered into you between swishes of hips and sharp turns. You’re concentrating very hard as you try to keep up that you almost don’t hear the sultry whisper of her voice. But you manage a clumsy nod complete with warm cheeks and a wrong step in her direction. And she’s back to smiling at you. Back to laughing with you. “I have to say, I’m quite fond of the dance, myself. But...”

Back to looking at you like you’re the most precious thing in the world. And making you believe that you truly, truly are.

“I think might just like you a little bit more~”

#evelynn #evelynn league of legends #evelynn x reader #league of legends #league of legends x reader #league fo legends fanfic #league of legends fanfiction #league #league x reader #league fanfic #league fanfictin #lol #lol x reader #lol fanfiction #lol fanfic #x reader #xreader #fanfic #fanfiction

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