#Jesus Fuck this is what I get for forgetting to take out the trash before leaving

[theater-of-dimensions]

Came home today after a few days away to find flies have invaded my kitchen 😣

[princessbrunette]

all of a sudden, jj suddenly felt severely underdressed in his black muscle tank and cargo shorts. it’s not that he hadn’t been in a strip club before, he’d just never come to see pogue!bunny!reader at her place of work.

you’d left your shoes at the chateau after one of the many infamous pogue parties that you’d been invited to. if it were any other kind of cheap shoes, you’d probably just said forget about it. but for some bizarre reason, you’d worn some of your prettiest shoes that cost you an arm and a leg from the bills thrown your way at the club, so you’d been damned if you let those just get tossed in the trash because guys don’t know the value of things.

jj had actually used it as an excuse to slide into your instagram dms. shooting you a super casual ‘hey, left your shoes at the chateau. want em back?’ to which you responded ‘my hero!!!! <3’ and so on. anyway, the agreement was — he’d bring your shoes to you on your break.

it’s not as grimy on the inside as it is on the outside, but he doesn’t have much time to look around before he’s hearing the slapping of bare feet through the hallway — and suddenly a scantily dressed figure is throwing itself into his arms in the dimly lit space.

“holy— jesus christ.” he catches you anyway, though you can tell he doesn’t know where to put his hands, settling on the fat just beneath your ass. he swore you were put on this earth to tempt him.

“you came!” you smile in that melodic voice, unhardened by your surroundings. hell, he nearly did come.

“well, you called.” he shrugs, trying to be all nonchalant about it. he swings the shiny pink heels around his fingers and you squeal, taking them from him. “yeah— so, uh— if that’s all i could probably just see myself ou—” he juts a thumb towards the exit, going to stuff one hand in his pocket and missing all together as he backs away. he wasn’t sure why he was being so awkward, aside from the fact you were just stood infront of him wearing a tiny little triangle bra and a g string.

“stay!” your brows furrow adorably and it physically pains his chest, infact — he’s pretty sure he had a physical reaction, face screwing up with a wince. how does one tell the girl he’s attracted to that if he stays any longer he will pop a hard on? “s’the least i can do. come watch the show. i can hook you up with wings and some beers for free?” you bat your faux-lashes, the glitter on your cheekbone glowing in the low lighting as you tilt your head sweetly, putting on a show to convince him.

“wings, beer n’ boobs? you’re talkin’ my language young lady.” he smirks, unable to hide his usual ways and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“yay, follow me!” you grip his hand, long acrylics scratching against his wrist and he rolls his lips together, eyes practically following each jiggle of your ass cheek as you walk before he even realises he’s in the main section. you settle him in, a little booth that usually probably occupies pervy businessmen— which really makes the blonde feel out of place. he came alone, and now he was sat here — occupying a booth. what kind of creep comes to watch strippers alone?

he’s about to jump up and make up an excuse to leave in pure embarrassment, but you’re smoothing your hands along his shoulders, batting your lashes and telling him you wish you could stay and chat but you’ve gotta go dance, and that his wings and beer will be coming soon. he blinks at you, under a trance and settles into the worn and suspiciously sticky leather arm chair.

soon you’re up on that stage and he wants to sink into the fucking ground. you’re unbelievably hot, and now it’s like something out of a porno he made in his mind, watching you saunter around the pole, dropping down to the ground and arching your back, shaking the meat of your ass effortlessly as faceless men throw money your way. he had nothing to throw but some receipts and old nickels in his pockets and he didn’t think you’d appreciate that — which didn’t matter anyway, because he was somewhat stuck to his seat.

he lifts his hands to adjust his cap before realising he’s not wearing one, and just as he realises his dick is sitting hot, heavy and hard in his shorts— you’re off stage, bounding over with everything jiggling. lord help him.

he thinks he might die when you clamber confidently onto his lap, straddling him front on.

“so how was it jayj did you like it? i know it’s a lil’ weird seeing me up there, i’m your friend n’all but was the song choice good atleast?” you tilt your head like a befuddled puppy dog before wriggling around— crotch to cock. “oh, nevermind. i can feel that you’re like super hard so i take it that you liked the show!” you smile, like you’d just said the most innocent sentence in the world. jj blinks, lips agape.

“uh— y—no, yeah it was… well, y’know. the body doesn’t lie.” he bucks his hips lightly in gesture before immediately internally questioning why he’d do something so creepy. luckily, you giggle — but he’s not sure if it’s because you liked it or because you’re well trained.

“well, next time you get paid come get a lapdance i’ll fix that problem jayj, even give you a discount.” you let that giggle slip through again, but there’s a breathiness to your tone that feels all too real. his brows jump up, eyes flickering unashamedly to your tits as you lean forward to his ear. “or jus’ get me drunk again next weekend? will probably do it for free ‘cus i like you.” you admit, looking all nervous when you pull back. you just shook your ass on stage, yet jj maybank was making you flustered.

“for sure. yeah uh— can… can definitely do that. yep.” he plays it calm and collected, sees you out with another bone crushing hug against your tits before speed walking to his company truck that he drove over here. his shift was over, so he wasn’t rushing to get back to work. moreso to beat off in the parking lot thinking about pulling that g-string of yours to the side.

[haunteddetectivepeach]

Danny 'Jed Olsen' Johnson x pregnant reader

You

You met the ghostface regularly, or rather, it went to your home. You had sex many times, at first you felt guilty about the fact that it is the ghostface and the same hands that satisfied you and touched you are the same ones that kill innocent people.

Most of the time he did not use a condom. But it was okay because you are taking pill, but now, the unexpected happened, your mestruation has been late for 2 weeks, you thought it was just because of the stress of work unitil it started to feel alot of nausea and your breasts were well sore, you refused to take a pregnancy test, for fear, fear off what will happen if you are pregnant, pregnant with a serial killer, not just a serial killer, but the ghostface, or rather, Danny, at the least that was the names he gaves you.

You just woke up from a party that your friend Jessie called you, you are not much of parties, but you were a little away from your friend because of your little case with the largest serial killer in the United States of America, and was scared of what he can do about people close to you, Danny is a little jealous, the last time a guy screwed me, he cut his throat the next day...

I felt guilty for days, but the guy ran a hand on my ass, so on a second thought, i don't feel guilty at all.

RING RING RING

The alarm sound tuck tou of you thoughts. And them the desire of vomit again, i think i will really have to do this...arriving in the bathroom, you took the small box were there was the pregnancy test from the courter where you have you things. After doing the whole process, you let out a sign and them start to despair when you look at the results, positive, "Positive, a fucking positive, of couse, the pill was no use shit any" you talk softly "Jesus Christ, what do i do? Abortion? Tell him? Cry?scream? Oh my god, oh my fucking god, i have to run away? Just go?" You start crying softly, looking at the little staff in your hands, and finally, thrown on the trash.

Danny Johnson/Jed Olsen

I woke up early to play the perfect american citizen Jed, the dear Jed, who all love and no one even suspicious. I passed my gel on my black hair I observed my body toned on the mirror, despite some scars, and them my suit and tie, all perfect.

I arrived at gazette journal, greeted the receptionist and secretariats until i arrived at my office. I was trying to make my new article, John Smith, my last victim, but i couldn't have her out of my head, the woman i find myself, me, Danny, not the Jed. Then my mind dive to her body curves, her breasts, her ass..."Damn" i have to stop thinking about her, i have to do this article, and a can't to it with an erection, it would spoil the perfect Jed, no one can think Jed is a pervert that get hard at work, but damn, i still remember our last night, the last time we saw each other, because unfortunately i was too busy with John shit Smith, at least it was a good death, but nothing, nothing make me forget her, my bunny, she's too perfect, her body, her face, i remember every little bit about her body, you can't forget a woman like that, not even if i wanted to, i still remember...our sweaty bodies in that bed, her breasts swaying as the rhythm increased, her nails digging into my back, her legs whapped around me as if she didn't want me to leave, her sly moans in my ears as you told me to go deeper, harder, more...more, the creaking of the bed, the wet sheets, your room smelled of sex, and the only sounds heard were our skins slapping together, you sweet moans. Only her, only she can do this to me, she holds me and i can't let go, she was the only woman, who entered my thoughts and i can't take it away, i can't.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

A knock on the door brought me of my thoughts. "You can come in" Soon Jeff enter "Olsen, here is some informations that the police gave us, we need this article sent today" Jed gives him a small smiley enough to Jeff "Of course sr, it will be ready before you remember it" Jeff nodded "I knew a cold count on you, Olsen" Then Jeff left the room eating his disgusting greasy donut in his hand, Danny wanted to kill this man, but he know's he can't, he realized that he can't kill anyone at work that would bring suspicion, and he really doesn't want to be seen or have problems with the police.

You

I'm at work talking to my boss about a state transfer, it was my decision, i going to leave, i going to run away and I'm not going to tell anyone, not my friends, anyone. I really have to go, what would he do if he found out I am pregnant, and worse, with his child. I can't, i can't take it, I'm terrified, we don't even have a relationship, i don't even know if a know him well, of course I know that he is the ghostface, the most wanted serial killer in Roseville, Florida. But at all, I never saw his face, at least not all of it, we kissed so much times, we had sex but I was blindfolded most of the times or remaining wearing a mask. My boss said there was a transfer to Utah, and i accepted. And about Danny, he hasn't come for a few days, probably busy with new victims, and we are not dating ou anything else, We just fucked, a lot of times. Whenever we fucked i would wake up alone in the sheets, wich still had his cheap cologne on, he would stay with me until I fell asleep and leave late at night so he wouldn't be seen. He always leaves a post it saying something like: See you, Darling. That's why I know he cares about me, but a child? A child of ours? A mini us? I'm definitely scared if he finds out before I can leave, it's for the best for us, because he is a fucking serial killer, and yet, I slept with him and not just once. Okay, i have to leave today, I'm not taking any furniture, nothing, just some clothes and essential objects for my work so that he doesn't get suspicious before I can leave. I told my boss not to tell anyone about where I went , no matter who. I took the first taxi to the airport and just let myself go. "Goodbye, Danny."

Danny

After work, I got ready with my ghostface costume and went to see her, i parked far from her house, in the darkest part, where no one could see me. I watching trying to find her, but nothing. I decided to go in, i looked in every room, and i waited for her to arrive, hour passed and i tried to call her on my spare number that I use for ghostface calls, but she wasn't answering, I ran to check the drawers and nothing, there was no nothing, i decided to go back the next day.

The next day, i went to the hospital where she works, I ask the receptionist if you was there, and she told me that you don't longer work there, i asked to speak to your boss, he told me that you request transfer. Why? I asked him where, but he said you asked him not to tell anyone, no matter who. Shit. At night, i went to your house, pissed, angry, that's all l fell. Why? You think you could get into in my head, and just...leave, like it's was nothing? I started to break down everything, thrown everything on the floor. "FUCK"

You

It's been 2 years, 2 years since I left, 2 year I've been in Utah and a year since my baby was born, a strong and healthy little boy, he has the same grey eyes as Danny, and the face is similar, it's been exactly 2 weeks since he turned 1 years old, I made his day the most especial. My mother helped me with everything since I arrived in Utah, she helped me with the move furniture and my house a large two-story with 2 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms, my son's room is fully of toys, painting notebooks and very colorful for my baby.

I was preparing his food while he has coloring with crayons, when the news on television caught my attention, i was paralyzed. ALERT: 26-YEARS-OLD MAN FOUND DEAD THIS MORNING. On the television was the photo, the ghostface over the censored corpse, my son was entertaining himself with some building blocks, for wich i thank the gods. It took a while to reason, he...he's here, in Utah. He knows? Does he knows I'm here? Did he come after me? Did he come to kill me for leave? No, I just paranoid, there no way he was discovered at all. "Damn, stop worrying, everything will be okay, he will not find me, I hope..."

Two weeks after the first ghostface murder

Danny

I was crouching in a bush watching a house, and that's when I saw her. There she was cooking and dancing to the sound of a song where I couldn't identify. But... she was not alone, squeezed my eyes and managed to see, was a baby, a boy, apparently 12 months or 1 year. Smiling without teeth right. So he made the calculations, 1 years that the baby appears to have and 2 years she left, she was still meeting him, wasn't she? Or she was having sex with another guy while sleeping with him..or is his baby?. That's why, why is she gone? Is the baby really his? A fruit of them two? I was dipped in my thoughts. I need to see right, I need to see the boy well.

You

I was holding my son on my hip while we danced to the sound of (f/v)

And I prepare a food for both of us. Until I observed a movement outside. I put in (y/c/n) in the Feeding chair and headed toward the window, watched and found nothing. Maybe it was my head, or not. When I and (y/c/n) we finished eating, it was a little late and put him in the crib, I sang a song until he fell asleep, when he slept, headed for my room that was near him to be easier to Listening to crying or meeting your needs, put a nightgown and tied my hair awkwardly with a little hair in front and lay down. A few hours or minutes maybe I heard a wooden noise, I took a bat and went towards the noise came from.

It came from my son's room, walked fast towards a totally dark room, I stared at the crib and he wasn't there when I looked at the armchair that is located in the corner of the room and was there. Danny. Holding our son, in his arms, was the small figure sleeping peacefully with his little hands playing lightly in the white mask, Danny who looked at him, suddenly changed his gaze to me, the only lighting in the room was the moonlight brightness, Until then the silence was broken. "Hello Darling"

"What are you doing here?" "What? I can't visit my lover? Or rather, my son's mother"

He said getting up carefully as he snuggled (y/c/n) in the crib. "It's my baby, isn't it? So you left?" He says approaching slowly until he was centimeters from you, the difference in visible height and the small space that could only be heard the breaths of each other, he put his hand gloved in his chin and raised stop his eyes through the mask. "Answer me, honey" He speaks so low that he sounded like a whisper. His lips separated to speak, but nothing left. He raises a little from the mask and gets closer, you finally wave your head."Yes..." he then gets millimeters from you and collides the lips against yours. When you leave it, he looks at you eyes with a predatory gray look at yours and says "our son, and you are mine, sweetheart, just mine, and we are a family. We and our little boy. I love you, bunny"

He said with his head now without the mask touching yours. with your lips almost touching

"I love you too, Danny".

[builtbykittie]

Patience, baby

j.m.k x f!reader

Summary: You get Josh worked up at a bar and make him wait till you get home.

Warnings: 18+, alcohol consumption, SUBBY JOSH, sexual pictures, SMUT, masturbating, edging (m rec), oral(m rec), unprotected sex, that's basically it

Words: 5,062

.

"Good job baby," you whisper into Josh's ear, chills covering his body. "Thanks," he smiles, every tooth on display for you and the others who are losing to him to see.

"Oh come on! This is just luck!" Sam groans "he's never this good." Josh rolls his eyes at the statement "Maybe you're just bad at pool, Sammy boy."

"Don't get cocky, Joshua," Jake chides, holding his pool stick in the air. "You might lose your luck."

"It's not luck! You fuckers are just mad I'm winning!"

"Josh, are you forgetting you and Danny are winning? Don't take all the credit," you butt in, slinging your arm around Danny. "You're not even playing," Josh points, throwing back his drink.

"Poor Daniel doesn't deserve this treatment," you pat Danny's back before moving over to Josh, bringing your face close to his. You watch his chest rise and fall as you bring your lips close to his ear, just ghosting over the shell of it. "You're acting rather bratty, Josh."

He turns his head, your faces just mere inches apart. You scan over every inch of his face, his brows just barely furrowed and his cheeks turning a light shade of crimson. "What the fuck is this? Get a room, weirdos!" Sam fakes a gag, throwing the wrapper of a straw in the small space between you and Josh.

You simply look at Sam, sticking out your tongue at him before looking back at Josh. As you pull back, you ghost your lips over his jaw till they reach his ear "You're so cute when you're flustered."

Walking back to the booth, you watch Josh's expression grow sour, his cheeks even brighter than before. You and Josh had been hooking up for about three months now and the others were pretty quick to pick up on it, you'd originally denied every accusation but eventually, you both stopped caring.

"If you're gonna fuck my brother, fine. Just don't do it in front of us," Sam pokes, nearly shouting. "Jesus Sam, why don't you just get up there and announce to to the whole bar?" Josh gestures to the microphones placed neatly by a karaoke machine.

"You know what? Maybe I will, Josh. Thanks for the idea," Sam snickers, throwing another piece of trash in Josh's direction. "And I'm the bratty one?" Josh points to Sam, his brows knitted together in annoyance.

"He's just living up to the youngest child title," Danny quips, driving an elbow into Sam's side. "Yeah, and who's the oldest here, Josh?" You giggle, throwing back your own drink.

"What with the hate train today? I mean, seriously?" Josh throws his arms up, looking around in disbelief. "There's no hate train, Joshy. You're just dramatic," you tease, blowing a kiss his way and placing your hand over your heart in faux hurt as he pretends to dodge it.

"Is this not weird for you guys? Is it not strange to see them like that?" Sam points between you and Josh, obviously not used to seeing the two of you as anything other than best friends. "Aww Sam, you feel left out? You'll have your turn at some point, don't worry pretty boy," you jest, leaning forward and showing off an appropriate amount of cleavage.

As you look away from Sam, your eyes meet Josh's, the look painted across his face is something you can't describe as anything other than jealousy. You send him a wink in his direction, gesturing for him to come over to you.

His legs slowly carry him towards you, a serious look playing on his face. "Oh, Josh.. you're still all flustered," you smirk, reaching up to grab his hands as he stands in front of you. You kiss each of his fingers, tracing the veins with your thumbs before pulling him down to whisper in his ear "And I know you're all hard underneath those tight little pants of yours."

You hear his breath hitch in his throat, letting go of his hands to run your palms up his thighs. "Oh poor Josh. What do I do with you?" You coo, the very tips of your fingers ghosting over his growing bulge. He doesn't respond, the only sound coming from his mouth being a low hum.

"Mama.." Josh whines, standing up straight. "Whaat? You wanna go home?" Your hands reach his abdomen, smoothing out the fabric of his white shirt and fixing the length of his coat. You watch as his brows knit together even further, nodding gently.

"That's too bad, isn't it?" You mock the expression on Josh's face, dragging your fingers along the waist of his khakis. "Y/N, I know you wanna leave too."

"Hm mm. We can't leave, not yet," you lift his shirt slightly, ghosting your fingers over old hickeys you've previously left on his abdomen. "We'd need to call an Uber. And we haven't even eaten."

"Bathroom?" Josh moves hair away from your face, the tent in his pants growing larger by the second. "Nope. It's too dirty," you stand up "I'm sorry, love. I just enjoy seeing you so needy like this."

You kiss his warm cheek, dragging your hand along his torso as you walk away to meet with the others. "Hey, what time were we planning on leaving?" You run your hand up Sam's back, him being the designated driver for tonight.

"Oh uh, we were actually gonna eat then head out," Sam announces "if that's okay with you." You look back to Josh, sitting at the booth and hungrily watching you as he tries to adjust himself in his pants. "You know what, that's actually perfect!"

You ruffle Sam's hair before spinning on your heels, a devious grin pulling on your lips. "Hear that, Josh?" You approach him "You don't have to wait much longer."

He tries to hide the excitement on his face, but the way his eyes lit up and pupils dilated betrayed him. You place one hand on the back of the booth and the other on the table, leaning into him "We're leaving after we eat." You bring your face down to his neck, pressing an open mouth kiss to his jaw "Then your poor cock can get the attention it needs."

You move your hand from the booth to his thigh, the one on the table coming up to cup his face as you press your lips against his. Josh practically lunges forward, deepening the kiss and groaning into your mouth once your hand inches higher and higher up his thigh, squeezing the skin.

He tries to pull you closer, but you pull back completely, your fingers just barely ghosting over his impossibly hard cock "Joshua we're in public." Fortunately, everyone was too caught up in their own conversations to notice. "We're lucky your brothers didn't see. I can just hear Sam's fucking voice yelling at us in my head. 'get a room, weirdos!'," you imitate Sam's voice with a giggle.

Josh doesn't laugh or loosen up, still bright red and flustered. "You're real fun, you know that?" You lightly shove him before grabbing his arms and forcing him up. "Look who decided to join us!" Jake holds his glass up, playfully slapping his brother's arm.

"He's just mad our sweet Y/N here won't let him get lucky," Sam pokes, a shit-eating grin playing on his face. "Oh shut up Sam," you throw your arm up, a pink blush taking over the color of both yours and Josh's cheeks. "Are you guys gonna order food or what?" Josh waves around his arm dramatically.

"Already did," Danny smiles "We got everyone what they normally get. Calm down, diva." A smirk grows on your face and you turn to Josh, sending a soft jab into his side with your elbow. Finally, you get a small grin out of him "There's my favorite smile! I missed it." You come down to lay a peck against his dimple.

"Okay so.. we're riding with Sam? Aaand Danny's riding with Jakey?" You look at each of the boys before turning your attention to Sam. "Who's we?" Sam quirks a brow, and then not even a second after a look of realization washes over his face. "Oh no. No no no. I will not be driving while you two practically fuck in my backseat because you can't wait seven fucking minutes."

"Oh come on, Sam. You really are jealous huh?" You quip, ruffling his hair. "How about this. I'll sit in the front with you and Josh can sit in the back?" Sam's expression softens at your suggestion, but of course, he still puts on a fight "You guys have two different houses don't you? I don't see why I have to drive both of you."

"We're both going to my place. His car's there," you smugly smile, innocently tucking your hands behind your back like a little girl. "Fine." Your grin widens and you get a sinister idea "I gotta go to the bathroom I'll be right back."

You practically skip to the women's restroom and retrieve your phone from your pocket. Slipping into a stall, you open your camera app before pulling the top of your shirt down past your breasts. You'd put on your baby blue, see-through lingerie you knew Josh liked tonight, and you were going to make him suffer for as long as possible.

Fluffing up your hair, you take your bottom lip between your teeth and take a few pictures before adjusting your clothes and walking out to fix your appearance.

"There she is. We got the food," Josh smiles, calmer than before but the embarrassingly large tent in his pants proves he's no less aroused. "Good. I have a surprise for you later," you smirk, laying a hasty peck on his lips and walking to the booth.

Everyone takes their time eating, you and Josh, on the other hand, finish your food in an instant. You try not to show any sign of disparity, but the way you find yourself a little more excited to get home than you should quickly humble you.

"Jesus. What did you two do to be so hungry?" Danny chuckles through his words, looking between yours and Josh's trash. "I have an idea," Jake smirks, a smug look playing on his features as he drives an elbow into his twin's side.

"Oh shit," Sam interrupts Josh and Jake's bickering, looking down at his phone with furrowed brows. "Hey, I gotta leave like right now. I gotta wake up pretty early and I didn't even realize the time."

Your cheeks flush with a deep red tint, instantly turning your head to look at Josh and trying to hide the smile growing on your lips. "Well, I guess we're going too," you stand up, pulling the strap of your purse over your shoulder with a smile.

"Bye, guys. Love you," you and Josh take turns giving Danny and Jake a hug before following suit after Sam.

"Can I at least get aux?" You catch up to Sam, taking his arm in your hands and shaking it. "Nope."

Sam opens the door for you before rounding the car to the driver's side "Your place?" You hum and nod your head, reaching over to turn up the jazz Sam had put on.

About a minute into the drive, you pull your phone from your purse and turn your brightness fully down, your cheeks burning up as you press on Josh's contact. Your hands tremble with anticipation, shaky hands opening your camera roll and sorting out the best picture to send him.

Finally, you decide on your favorite and start to type a message.

You: [1 attachment]

You: surprise ;)

In the rearview, you watch his phone illuminate his face with the notification, then his eyes widening as he opens the message.

Josh is typing...

You're met with nothing. You look back up to the rear view, his dark hungry eyes already fixated on you. Your eyes scan Josh's body as Sam yaps about something to do with the song playing.

"We're here," Sam wraps his arm around the back of the passenger seat. Your head shoots up to look out the window, being met with the familiar setting of your home "Thanks for the ride, Sammy. Love you!"

"Y/N what the fuck was that?" Josh practically stomps up to you. "I told you I had a surprise," you try not to giggle as you fish your keys from your purse, taking your sweet time to get the door open. Josh's hands find your waist, pressing his hard cock into your ass and burying his head into your hair "You're only making me suffer, mama, seriously."

"Oh, believe me, I pity you, love," you walk through the door and turn to face him "your poor cock. You were just so fucking hard back there." His hands sneak up to your waist, slamming the door behind him and pulling you into him. "But it's just so addicting to watch you all flustered and worked up."

"Fuck you're so hot," Josh tucks a loc of hair behind your ear as you let your bag drop to the floor. "Yeah? Did you like that picture I took for you?" You bring your hands up to his chest "You know I don't do that often."

Josh buries his face into your neck and hums against the soft skin. "Fuck you could be a movie star with a body like that," he speaks through wet kisses to your neck. "And in my favorite lingerie," his hands find their way to your ass, softly kneading the supple skin through your jeans.

As your lips hungrily find his, one of the hands on his chest sneaks down to rest on his impossibly hard bulge, a whine falling past his lips at the lightest touch. "C'mon, sit down baby," you pull back and grab his wrist, moving him to the couch and pushing him to sit down.

You drop to your knees in front of him, smoothing your hands over his legs "You need it so bad, don't you? How bad do you need it love?" A deep hum rumbles up from his chest and his legs involuntarily twitch. "So bad, mama. I need you so bad. Your fucking body. Need to feel you."

"Sweet boy," you smile and kiss his clothed knee. Slowly, your hands come up to toy with the button of his pants, Josh's head falling back slightly and his eyes squeezing shut in anticipation.

You've decided you let him wait long enough, wasting no time to unbutton and unzip his pants before slowly pulling them off his ankles. Taking your time, you press kisses to each knee, then draw a line of kisses up his thigh till you meet the hem of his boxers.

The sight is pitiful, his cock straining painfully against his boxers as he waits as patiently as he possibly can for you to touch him. "Pull them down. I wanna watch you do it," you speak lowly, looking up at him through your lashes.

In an instant, his trembling hands find the waistband of his boxers and hastily pull them down. The sight of his desperate cock springing free and softly slapping against his abdomen drives you mad, your heat undeniably soaked.

"Fuck," you mutter "touch yourself. Be gentle. slow." Your hungry eyes stay fixated on his cock, watching intently as he collects precum with his thumb and starts to stroke his length at a painfully slow pace. Resisting the incredible urge to touch yourself, you lift your hands to cup his hot face, gently stroking his cheek with your thumb.

"That's it, love. Just like that. I'm sorry you have to wait so long. You can touch me soon, just be patient, baby," your thumb continues to rub his burning cheek while your eyes stay focused on his cock.

"Okay. My turn," you move your hands from his face, dragging them down his torso till they finally reach where he needs your touch the most. Almost immediately, your hand grasps the base of his cock before you lean down to spit on his pretty pink tip.

You spread your saliva around his length with your palm, a low groan bubbling up from his chest followed by a breathy moan. You set a slightly faster pace, purely out of sympathy for the poor boy.

The faster you go, the more noises Josh struggles to contain, each one enabling you and flowing through your ears like music. Unable to wait any longer, you curl your lips around his angry tip, lapping your tongue over his slit.

"Fuck mama keep doing that, don't stop," Josh whines, throwing his head back and grasping at your couch cushion, his hips involuntarily bucking up into your mouth. You start to slightly bob your head up & down, your tongue still taunting his cock.

You can tell he's near the edge, and you're not gonna let him cum just yet. You let go of him completely, a squeaky whine falling from his mouth at the loss of contact. "You can't cum. Not yet. C'mon, Let's go to my room."

Silently, Josh gets up and follows suit behind you, letting you lead the way to your bedroom. Slamming the door behind him, Josh instantly finds your lips, taking you into a lustful kiss as his hard cock presses against your thigh. You swallow thickly against Josh's mouth, the feeling of his cock against you making you wanna give in.

"Fuck Josh, you're making this really hard for me, y'know that?" Your hand comes up to tangle itself in the curls of the back of his head. "Is that a bad thing?" He hums against your skin, pulling you closer to him and pressing painfully against your inner thigh.

Finally, you manage to find the strength to pull back from his intoxicating lips "Get on the bed." Josh does just as you say, climbing onto your bed and resting back against the bedpost, his cock sitting up nice and pretty for you. Soon after him, you climb up on the front of your bed, crawling up to him and straddling his thighs.

You make sure to put on a show of taking your clothes off, a grin growing on Josh's lips as you slowly take off your top. He helps you with your jeans, throwing them to the floor and leaving you in just your bra and panties. "You're so gorgeous.." his hands rest on your waist, admiring how you look in the baby blue lingerie.

Your cheeks tint pink and you try to hide the smile playing on your features, you're always unable to stay serious around Josh. Wordlessly, you come down to meet his throbbing cock, wasting no time taking him into your mouth. "Shit," Josh whines, throwing his head back and squeezing your waist before letting go to grasp onto the bedding.

Josh is typically a giving lover, so times like this when you got to be in his spot, always got you excited.

Your hands come up to grasp his thighs, squeezing the flesh as you take him almost fully into your mouth. Trying your best to ignore the intense throb between your legs, you focus on what elicits the loudest whines or whimpers from him. You focus on getting him off as fast as possible.

His hips involuntarily buck up into your mouth, despite his desperate attempts to keep control. Fortunately, you knew his body well enough to know the things that drive him crazy. "Oh god, Y/N," the pads of Josh's fingertips bury into your scalp, trying as hard as he can to resist the urge to grab your head and push your mouth down along his length.

You let go of one of his thighs to toy with the base of his cock and you hear his breath hitch in the back of his throat. Your eyes flick up to his, if there's one thing you know for sure, it's that Josh loves eye contact. You keep your eyes on him, a smile growing on your face as you continue to stroke his length with your hand and bob your head up & down.

It doesn't take long before he's twitching in your mouth, loud strings of whimpers flying from his mouth each second. Once again, you pull yourself away from him completely. "Mama please," Josh breathes out, a thin layer of sweat causing his face to glisten in the dim room.

"Patience, baby."

You shift to be hovering over him, cupping his flushed red face and coming down to kiss his plush red lips. Josh wraps his arms around your waist, dragging his hands along the curve of your back and then up to bury into your hair, deepening the kiss.

A low groan bubbles up from deep within his chest as you start to grind against him, your barely clothed ass rubbing against his length.

"Mama.." he wines as your kisses travel down to his neck. You hum against the soft skin of his neck, wordlessly asking what he wants, even though you know full and well what he wants.

"Y/N, please- shit," Josh's hips buck up against your ass as you grind against him. You simply ignore him, continuing to kiss over his neck and collarbones.

Josh grabs your hips, a whimper falling past his lips as he thrusts up once again against your ass. "Josh," you whisper "hands off. Be a good boy." With a quiet whine, he lets go of you.

You move back to where you previously were, drawing a line of kisses down his body as you go. "Josh, can you do me a favor, love?" you kiss his tummy, completely avoiding his cock. Josh hums in response, his pretty brown eyes staring into yours. "Put your hands behind your back for me."

With a huff, he slides his hands underneath his back. "So good, baby," you taunt him, running your hands up and down his thighs as you suck new hickeys on his tummy. "Y/N..." He sighs, his hips slightly wiggling, his cock begging for release.

Finally, you give in, wrapping your hand around his cock and pumping slowly. A squeaky noise flies past his lips, so sensitive from the intense anticipation. The pace of your hand speeds up, and you begin to swirl your hand around his length.

"Oh shit," Josh groans, his hips faltering as he tries to stop himself from bucking up into your hand. Slowing down the pace of your hand, you bring yourself down to lick a stripe up his length before taking him into your mouth.

Josh writhes beneath you, obviously uncomfortable with his hands behind his back "fuck." You hum against him, stroking him as you bring your head up and then back down. Josh chokes back squeaky breaths as you squeeze him, the velvety feeling of your tongue dragging along his length driving him crazy.

Your eyes flick up to his, a weak smile forming on his lips which is quickly covered up by his mouth falling open and brows knitting together once you take him fully in your mouth. Tears form in your eyes as you try to ignore your gag reflex, his cock twitching in your mouth serving as a sign that he's close. "Holy fucking-" Josh groans, throwing his head back and choking back whimpers.

Releasing him from your mouth with a pop, you speed up the pace of your hand, squeezing tighter and swirling your hand around him. "Come on, Josh. Don't hold back. Let me have it, baby," You come down to kitten lick his tip, something else you knew got him off quickly.

Josh's cock twitches in your hand one last time before ropes of ivory paint your face "Oh god- fuck." Your hand begins to slow down significantly, languidly swirling your hand around him to help him ride out the high. The next few moments are simply you and Josh sitting in silence, Josh's heavy breathing being the only noise in the room.

"Okay, you can take your hands out now. You're being so good for me," you kiss the raw bruises on his his tummy before sitting up.

"Watch me," you demand, wiping some of the slick off your face and bringing it to your lips, licking your fingers clean. Josh lets out a low groan at the sight, his eyes even darker than before. A giggle escapes your lips as you move yourself further up his body, now your cunt being just above his cock.

Looking deeply into his eyes, you bring your hand back up to your face and wipe off the rest of the ivory slick. With your other hand, you move your panties to the side.

You watch his eyes widen and pupils dilate as you bring your hand down to your heat. You're unable to hold back the weak moan that falls past your lips when you spread the slick through your folds and around your entrance. There's no denying that you were desperately aroused. You needed him just as bad as he did you.

"Oh- my god," you slip a finger inside your now lubricated entrance, pumping in & out a few times before hovering over his cock. You look into Josh's heavy eyes, grasping the base of his cock and flicking his sensitive tip over your clit.

His hands reach out to the clasp of your bra, but you slap his hand away before he can get it undone. "Hm mm," you shake your head "These are your favorite, right? You're gonna watch me. You're gonna watch me ride you and you can't take these off or look at anything but me. Got it?"

His cheeks flush a crimson shade and a large smirk plays on his lips, nodding gently. You smile and come down to kiss him just before you prepare to sink down onto him.

Grasping onto his shirt, you take a deep breath and line yourself up with his tip, slowly letting him fill you up completely. "Oh fuck," you whimper, your eyes instinctively clamped shut as you lift your hips up ever so slightly and bring them back down.

"Y/N.." Josh whimpers, his head thrown back "fuck you feel so good." You don't respond, he just feels so good. As you lift your hips and come back down you feel every inch of his cock, every detail and vein. It's sinful.

"Oh," Josh groans once your hips begin to roll. "Fuck you're so good for me," you moan, lifting your hips and rolling them as you come back down, clenching as hard as you can around his cock.

Something you love is how unafraid Josh is to put that incredible voice to use. If he feels good, he'll vocalize it. He was a little hesitant at first, but he quickly picked up on how hard you'd cum whenever he was whining in your ear.

You stretch your arms out behind you, leaning back and letting his thighs hold your weight as you ride him. "Holy shit," you whimper, your eyes shut so tight it's as if they're sewn together.

A hushed whimper of your name escapes Josh's mouth as you stop lifting yourself completely, simply just rolling your hips and clenching around him. "Oh- does it feel good, baby? Do you like that?" You breathe, hardly able to get the sentence out without a moan ripping through your chest.

"Mhm," Josh hums, instinctively grabbing your hips and resting his hands there, your pace starting to speed up significantly. "Oh fuck me," Josh groans, desperately fighting the way his eyes involuntarily start to shut.

"You're being so good, Josh. Keep your eyes on me, love," you moan out, starting to lift your hips the tiniest bit. You throw your head back and your jaw falls slack, Josh's body taking over every thought you once had.

You force your head back up to look at him, your faces mirroring each other's and you realize neither of you are gonna last much longer. Once again you start to lift your hips, your orgasm manifesting its way into your stomach, that coil of pleasure tightening.

"Fuck. Oh fuck-" Josh groans as your walls squeeze and quiver around him, reaching up to cup your face. You lean into his touch, letting him bring you down to touch foreheads with him.

You nod against his head, squeaky noises escaping both of your mouths as you breathe each other in, completely taken by the pleasure. "Holy fucking- shit Y/N," a squeaky whine slips out of Josh's lips, his hands moving to grab your ass.

"Y/N I'm gonna-" you cut him off with a kiss. "I know, me too baby me too," you moan into his mouth, squeezing down as hard as you can.

"Mama I'm there I'm gonna-" Josh fails to finish his sentence, breathy moans falling from his mouth accompanied by strings of profanities. "Give it to me, baby. C'mon," you moan, breathing in every single one of Josh's breaths.

With one final groan from Josh, you feel hot ropes of cum paint your insides, the feeling causing your head to spin.

"Fuck fuck fuck," you moan, your eyes clamping shut as your orgasm rushes through your body, that coil in your tummy finally snapping. White, burning hot pleasure travels through every vein in your body and completely takes over your thoughts and senses.

With a heaving chest, you open your eyes and lift your head ever so slightly to look at Josh. His eyes are still shut, his jaw still slack, and his pretty pink cheeks glistening with sweat. The sight is something you wish you could get tattooed in your brain, and you can't help but giggle.

"What?" A smile forms on his lips, finally opening his eyes one at a time. "Nothing. You just look so pretty," you smile, coming down to kiss his swollen red lips. "Yeah well soak it up because next time it's gonna be me on top of you." You giggle at his statement, sitting up and sucking in a hiss as he helps you off of him, juices running down your thigh and his cock.

"That just means you're gonna be in charge of the clean up next time."

.

.

.

[astroboots]

Where does Boa hide these around the house to best fuck with Santi?

BEHIND ENEMY LINES

Summary: Santiago is on a mission to take out your army of freakishly ugly mutant toys that you keep placing on his desk.

Homecoming Drabbles | Homecoming Masterlist | Astroboot’s Masterlist

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They're back again.

Santiago stares at the horrifying toy creature. Half husky and half--- penguin? Is that what it fucking is?!

He can't keep his eyes from the small miniature toy, its hauntingly blue piercing eyes and dog-like snout, its two flappy wings held against its protruding belly and standing on two webbed feet.

He doesn't know. Doesn't know where you managed to find this godless toy. Doesn't know what the toy manufacturer was thinking when they greenlit this for production. Doesn't know what kind of hallucinogenic drugs the designer must've been on when he made it.

Only thing he knows, is that it's fucking hideous is what it is.

Narrowing his eyes at the abomination, he glares at it in indignant anger where it sits perched on his desk. He threw this out last week. Stealthily took it out on the day it was Frankie's turn to take out the trash, so you couldn't find it and stop it beforehand.

So he doesn't know how it's back. Or worse, he doesn't know how now there's not only a husky penguin but right next to it there's also malformed sad looking half-tiger, half-squirrel.

He thought there was only the one. But with the appearance of this second one... fuck it can't be.

... Fuck.

You have the whole fucking line up hidden somewhere don't you?

And if he throws these two away... he's pretty sure like the fucking mythical Hydra of Lerna, there's going to be four of them lined up on his desk by tomorrow.

That won't do.

But he also doesn't want to sit here, looking at schematics for his latest consulting project, and having to stare up at these hideous crimes against nature and god. No, he needs to get rid of them...

But there's no way out of this that doesn't end in an escalation until his desk becomes a gathering ground of these horrifying mutant toys... Unless he takes it out by the source. Destroy the nest so that it cannot breed more... Sniff out where you've hidden this mutant-freak toy army and get rid of them before you'll ever see him coming.

Santiago glances up at the clock. 4.30pm, you'll be home within the hour, he still got time. Pushing his chair away from his desk, he skulks down the hallway to the guestroom where you tend to store all your junk. All the crazy shit you keep dragging back home from the antique stands and farmers market you drag him to at ungodly early hours on Sunday morning. The haunted porcelain dolls, the joke taxidermy--with mice wearing human clothes and squirrels that are in a boxing match-- and the collection of inappropriately sexy Christmas baubles you got in a moving box on the shelf.

He continues to root around, in the empty shoe boxes stored under the guest bedroom. The first one contains--- more sexy Christmas baubles, one that looks eerily alike Michael Bublé that makes his skin crawl. The second--a bunch of old photo albums. The third-- just a bunch of brightly colored socks, that shouldn't be stored there in the first place. He digs around and-- Bingo.

In the very bottom, inside a sealed plastic bag he finds what he is looking for. It's the rest of the pack. A confused looking zebra-kangaroo, a lion-gerbil?! (or is it hamster, jesus-- it's horrifying). And finally a face that will haunts his nightmares until the end of time... The face of a gorilla staring up at him, eerily detailed and accurate, with the body of an elephant.

Actually forget seeing this in his nightmares, Santiago doesn't think he'll ever sleep again after seeing this. He shakes his head as he pulls up the bag pinched between his thumb and index finger, not even daring to clutch it in his hand, as he tucks it inside his sweater, closing the lid before leaving the room and heading down towards the garage.

He's not taking any risks, he's heading straight into the car to the junkyard himself to make sure these things aren't recovered by some deus ex machina intervention.

"Santiago have you been going through my stuff?" you ask.

Santiago doesn't look up from the pages of his book, as he takes another sip at his piping hot coffee. "What do you mean sweetheart?"

He doesn't need to look at you to know the look that will be in your eye. The way you're narrowing your eyes at him in observation, the way a detective would pin down their suspected perpetrator in an interrogation room.

"My stuff in the guestroom," you clarify.

"No clue." He has to bite the inside of his cheeks to tamper down the grin that's threatening to escape.

What follows is your usual morning routine after breakfast. When he says bye by the front porch, you throw him a quick kiss goodbye, but you linger for longer than you normally do. Your eyes squinting down on him, a silent accusation of, "I know what you did."

Santiago doesn't say shit.

Instead he waves you off like a young maiden in an old timey black and white movie waving off their husband to war with a handkerchief, as he turns back into the house, smiling like a loon. The feeling of victory surging bright in his veins.

Santiago practically skips on each steps up the staircase back to his office, humming, and if he could be any happier he would be floating.

He opens the door, the refreshing spring breeze flowing in through his window. The morning sun spilling across the length of his desk when he sees it.

His smile drops.

No.

Fuck no.

You gotta be kidding.

They're back again.

Standing in a neat tidy line in front of his computer screen, the whole family is gathered. Husky-penguin, Tiger-squirrel, Zebra-kangaroo, Lion-gerbil/hamster and the most nightmare inducing of them all... Gorilla-elephant.

He doesn't understand.

He drove them there.

Personally chucked them into a bag and into the junkyard where it can never be retrieved. But...

They're all back... and they brought friends.

He threw away five, and now there's ten....

He stares at them, the whole of the line up. At each ugly, deformed, mutant, hybrid animal toy creature, eyes lingering in particular at the horrifying shark with four slim and graceful legs and hooves.... And he doesn't even know what to say.

He doesn't even know what the fuck this is.

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[ashxrdavenport]

patient zero – self para.

set on the night of may 5th, 1989.

ooc: since i intend on using this story for plot purposes in the near future, i figured i'd post it to his blog.

the taste of fresh blood straight from a jugular is so inebriating that he doesn’t quite realize what he’s doing.

so rich, so satisfying… he had been told it was good. better than the bagged, tomato-juice-colored liquid he’s used to. but this… this the best thing he has ever tasted. and he drinks, and drinks, and drinks until he’s drowning in it. he drinks until he chokes. until there’s nothing left to drain. and still, he keeps sucking, just to make sure he has taken every single remaining drop…

when he lets go of the body, it hits the pavement with a thud. loud and moist, as it crashes against a puddle. its echo rippling through the alley behind the bar.

still engrossed in the high, he doesn’t pay much mind to it. he’s too busy licking the gaps between his fingers, the space under his nails. satisfying himself like a child eating ice cream for the first time.

it’s only when he can’t taste blood anymore that his senses begin to clear. the world begins to spin at its normal speed again. the rush and the hunger start to wear off. his undead heart slows down. his senses relax. his perception returns. and, in between heavy breaths, asher gradually comes back to reality. thoughts start unclogging, things start making sense. humanity comes back to him, replacing that feral, beastly hunger. and, finally, he realizes.

fuck.

fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fu–

he stares at the body for a while. face contorted into an expression that seesaws between horror and concern. furrowed brows and agape mouth revealing his terror and disbelief at what lies at his feet.

fuck. he just wanted to give the guy a scare. beat him up a bit and get on with his life. that was not what he wanted. fuck no. that wasn’t supposed to–

he has to do something about it.

does he go for gwen? does he tell her he just murdered someone? she must know what to do in these situations, right?

but then again, she has given him all the instructions. she has tried her best to orient him to not become a murderer… jesus, she's going to be so pissed... actually, no. he isn’t supposed to think about that guy anymore. weakens him, apparently. satan, she’s going to be so pissed…

no. he can’t tell her. he has to deal with it on his own. he can’t get into any more trouble.

he looks around, desperate. trying to find something. anything. and as something moves inside a dumpster in the dark, he has an idea.

fucking gross. but time efficient.

he fishes for a trash bag, empties it on the dumpster – the reek of waste and rot torment his nostrils – and sets it next to the body.

cracking sounds echo through the dark street as he breaks bones and ligaments, like a nutcracker, but tenfold. even with his heightened strength – on top of what he considered already high strength, even before he’d become a vampire –, he still has a hard time snapping the forearms and legs in halves.

he doesn’t hate the feeling, though… not that it’s fun, by any means, but he is so caught up in breaking the guy’s body into a foldable little mass, that he almost forgets he just took someone’s life…

when he’s done, he fits it all inside the trash bag. he ties it up and heaves it over his back.

a 6’5 man walking down the streets with a black bag, in the middle of the night. not suspicious at all. nothing to see here! just taking out the trash! into the forest! to throw it in the river! what was he supposed to do? leave a body in the dumpster for a sloppy trash collector to drop it the next day and start a whole police investigation? who would want that?!

when the heavy work is done, he sits by the river to watch a dismembered arm and a leg float away (other pieces had been scattered around the forest in precariously dug holes). and it’s only then that the adrenaline starts to wear off. a different kind, though. not the same ecstasy from choking on fresh blood. but a more human, mortal kind. and it finally starts to sink in.

fuck.

he just murdered a guy.

a guy he had met at a bar not two hours ago. sure, an asshole that he had grown to hate within two minutes of conversation, but a human being, nonetheless.

he’s done his fair share of wrongdoings in his. way too many for his own sake. but that was a whole new level…

all the cliché thoughts start coming. what if they catch me? what if he was just a normal, random guy with a family? what if they catch me?

and as a severed foot disappears in the distance, he feels something tug downward inside his ribcage. it isn’t sadness. It doesn’t make him cry. is it guilt? he figures, but he can’t really tell... It is different. unlike anything he ever felt. and it is so, so strange. because he doesn’t know if he feels for the guy, or for someone he might have left behind. or if he just fears getting caught… but he feels… wrong.

is this what he has become? is this who he is now? 

[thequietmanno1]

TheLreads, Vigilantes ch 99, Replies Part 2

1) “He’s used to being used to cushion falls, it’s part of his powerset Aizawa.”- Knuckle taught him how to become the trash cushion on the sidewalk. 2) “Oh nevermind then, it was just McBee realizing that his plans continue to go down the drain in the most expected ways because he’s a dumbass. Meanwhile his tulpa continue to give moral support.”- Koichi: “Does something nice, supportive and heroic.” Nomura: And that makes me Angry.

3) “I’m sorry, the guy who can nullify quirks by looking at people can’t do anything to stop you? You sure about that McBee? The only way I can see that being true is if you brought a bomb to Naruhata.”- Aizawa can only be in one place at one time, and as long as Nomura keeps his distance from him and ensures he’s nowhere near the hospital, he’ll have assassinated Pop long  before Aizawa ever appears on the scene. It helps that with the low-lighting, it’s harder for Aizawa to get a glimpse of the enemy- though, I’m not sure if his Quirk works properly if it’s too dark to see the target even if they’re within 5 feet of you? Never really been established if that’s a limitation. 4) “Nevermind again, it was just the legion of civilians that know Koichi as a vigilante. Usual stuff of course. Meanwhile Aizawa is not pleased.”- He’s seeing Koichi in action as a hero without him actually being a hero. This is illogical, and thus irritates him. 5) “I forget sometimes that the general public doesn’t know Aizawa since he is more of an underground type that stays away from the spotlights. Even so, the fact that people know Koichi first as a hero and assume Aizawa must be one too since he’s around him is sending me”- Aizawa’s night is not going to get any better. First, he has to deal with an uncooperative punk who won’t learn the lesson he’s trying to beat into him, then he has to reassure nervous civilians on the ground floor, something he’s long established to be very bad at. 6) “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU GUYS EVEN ABOUT YOU KNOW HE’S A VIGILANTE EVERYBODY AROUND THE NEIGHBORHOOD KNOWS HE’S A VIGILANTE IT’S BEEN THREE FUCKING YEARS ALREADY HOW DO YOU KNOW HIM BUT DOESN’T KNOW HE’S NOT A PRO HERO”- Everybody assumed that him running around committing heroic acts without official hero intervention against him meant he was official. Tacit endorsement and all that. 7) “To be honest I’m surprised there’s that many people walking out considering it’s the middle of the night and the lights are out. I know there must be people coming from work and all that, but jesus at least hurry home, or take cover somewhere”- With the power out, they have no TV or internet to amuse themselves with, so they venture out into the streets to see what the hassle is that interrupting the late-night sports match.

8) “People are bullying Aizawa and it’s honestly one of the funniest things I saw so far. Rare W for furuhashi.”- The boot is on the other foot now. At least it’s funnier than the next time he has to take public criticism for the actions of a bunch of villains. 9) “OH GOD OH FUCK NOW IT’S SPIDERMAN HE IS HERE TO SAVE THE DAY FOR REAL”- It’s spider-man’s Fashion designer! 10) “…

It’s jeanist and edge, isn’t it?

don’t tell me they took this long to find koichi”- I figured they were just hanging back and letting Aizawa handle things on his own, as a favour to him, especially since all of them don’t exactly want to hurt Koichi when stopping him, and Aizawa’s power is best suited for making Koichi run out of his Speed(tm).  11) “OH WHAT A FUCKING COINCIDENCE, THE WHOLE CREW IS HERE RIGHT NOW, RIGHT AS WE NEED TO PLAN A COUNTERATTACK

McBEE NEVER STOOD A CHANCE CONSIDERING HE HAD THE AUTHOR AGAINST HIM”- Honestly, he only seems to have been effective so far because of Furuhashi throwing him some major bones to help build him up into being the final major threat to Koichi. 12) “OH WAIT FUCK I DIDN’T NOTICED THAT WAS THE INTENTION OF THAT WEB HE THREW

FOR FUCK’S SAKE AIZAWA EVEN CALLED A STRING PHONE AND I DIDN’T NOTICE IT

GOD FUCKING DAMMIT”- I Think we’ve seen more applications of Jeanest’s fibre master Quirk in action in this series than we ever did in his showing in MHA.

(Vigilantes ch 97) 13) “But that’s not the reason why. Furuhashi wanted cool heroes we already knew about to face Koichi to show how awesome he is for outsmarting and defeating them, and I already said what I think about it.

*sigh*

And unfortunately I really want to see how this is gonna go down”- The actual reason was so that Koichi could have some competent crises-management heroes on the scene to help the populace whilst he’s dealing with Nomura’s direct attack on the Hospital. (Vigilantes ch 98) 14) “And definitely not because we had permission to use character from the main series and thus we wanted to shove as many recognizable faces as we could whenever we could”- Also because Koichi would be needing professional help in a wide area to handle civilian unrest, when that’s not really been part of his vigilante training so far.

  15) “Wait where is that light coming from? What the fuck, why are there shadows here? Is the moon that bright right now?”- Can’t be, it’s not the time of the month for the Full Moon yet, and we’ve only made it part-way through Tartarus so far- oh wait, got mixed up there.

16) “OH JESUS FUCK YOU JINXED IT

NOW I KNOW ALL MIGHT IS GONNA SHOW UP TO SAVE THE DAY

AGAIN.”- Well, only if the plan falls into utter chaos and draws a big enough scene. But surely Nomura can’t fuck it up that badly, can he?

17) “No rush Phelps, it’s not like you could do something useful there anyway.”- Phelps would be a great asset as an official law enforcement officer if he could only get over his need to run things up the chain of command, rather than taking the initiative when the time comes. 

18) “Everything was kinda going fine, kinda, until those last few pages, because they pretty much spoiled the end of the story. All that “we did this so All Might won’t come here and ruin the day” is just so we can’t complain when All might come here and ruin the day.”- Well, he won’t actually, so long as Nomura keeps the actual attack quiet and swiftly done. All Might will absolutely deploy if the fight gets to a level beyond what Koichi can handle solo, but in a fight when both sides are using low-powered versions of their moves (Koichi on instinct, Nomura by necessity) in order to keep things from escalating beyond the scope of a scuffle in the darkness, All Might will never catch wind of it until there’s a new corpse in the hospital morgue.  @thelreads

[multifics99]

Ahhhh this post got so many notes! Here’s an unedited excerpt from the merman!san fic im working on

it was any normal day for you at work out in the middle of the ocean on a boat, testing the parameters of the water to figure out why all the coral is dying off. It honestly seemed like frivolous work to you because you already knew, too many assholes in the world polluting the ocean. Nevertheless you had to follow the standard procedures of the lab. You zipped up your wetsuit and started getting into the water to collect your samples, arguably it didn’t have to be done this way but you also just wanted to snorkel for a bit too. As you swam over the reef you saw all the typical species you always did, but they never ceased to amaze you. The different colors and shapes of the sea life is what drew you to this job in the first place. Now if the coral was all alive and not mostly dying it’d look perfect. You collected your samples while you swam and once you had what you needed you made your way back to the boat.

“How are the reefs looking today?” Your boat partner Yunho asked as you climbed back up onto the boat. “Sad and lifeless” you replied.

“Well” he sighed, “that is why we’re out here.” You handed him the samples, “here go set these up and I’ll come supervise you in a minute when I get this suit off.” Yunho groaned, “I really don’t think I need to be supervised anymore.”

“Sorry but you’re the intern and I’m the biologist.” You said as you threw your wetsuit to the side. Yunho walked over to the testing kit and began to pull things out, “don’t forget” he said “just last year we were sitting in the same classes together” you came up to the kit with him to watch him set up. “And then I graduated early”

It was true, you had gotten your masters degree a year early. You were always a good student and you were eager to start working so you spent many sleepless night studying and taking more classes than you could probably handle in one semester. It was worth it though because now you worked for your top choice laboratory and you were able to score your best friend an internship.

“Alrighty” yunho said as he started dipping the testing strips, “let’s see what we’re working with here” after waiting some minutes for the results it seemed that the water parameters were decently normal, very mild traces of chemicals used for fishing but that was almost anywhere in the water. These didn’t explain what was happening to the coral on the reef though. “Huh” you grumbled “the only other explanation is that this is a harvesting site for aquarium shops and hobbyists.”

“It’s kinda far out from town though”

“Well usually when people are doing something illegal they don’t wanna get caught” yunho simply nodded his head in agreement. You two had started to pack up and were about to get ready to head back to shore when a loud thud came from the opposite side of the boat. You both shot your head up in shock and scrambled to see what it was. If it was some sort of large dead animal or large piece of trash it was something to be investigated. Neither of you were prepared for what was in the water. Instead of an animal or trash it was a man. He was unconscious and floating on some sort of life preserver.

“Jesus Christ!” You exclaimed, “Yunho we have to help him!”

“Shit, fuck, holy shit!” Yunho shouted as you two leaned over just far enough to grab the man and haul him over onto the boat. Once you two had managed to make sure he was safe and still alive you finally noticed he was completely nude. “Yunho…” you trailed off as you simply pointed at the man’s naked form. “God, I-i have another pair of shorts” while yunho scrambled to find some clothes the man started to wake up.

“Hmm” you heard him mumble as his eyes slowly fluttered open. He barely even coughed, as if he hadn’t almost drowned. He slowly sat himself up, but he seemed wobbly, so you rushed to his side to hold him up a little. He spit out a little bit of water before finally taking a good look as his surroundings. Yunho came back with the shorts and you reached out for them and set them in the stranger’s lap. The stranger looked at you, up and yunho and then back at you.

“H-hello” you stuttered. You took in the sight of him. He seemed to be average height, and he had nice sort of glow to his skin. You noticed very quickly that he had a very athletic physique. What stood out the most about him though was his hair, it was a bright teal.

He looked back at you now, his facial expression riddled with confusion.

“Hello?” He replied, but it sounded like a question. “Are you okay?” You asked, not daring to allow your voice to raise above an audible whisper. “I, uhmmm, I mean…” he was clearly very disoriented. You lightly grabbed his arm and helped him stand up, him still holding the shorts over his lap. You pointed to the garment, “you can, uhm, you can put those on.” He silently nodded his head as he slipped the shorts on. Yunho was much taller than him though so he still had to hold the shorts up with his hand to keep them on. It was better than nothing for the time being. All three of you just stared at each other now, the strange man utterly confused, and you and Yunho having no idea where to go from here.

“Uhmm, so what’s your name?” Yunho asked. The man stayed silent for a few more seconds though, possibly trying to process the question. You made a mental note to not let him fall asleep in case he might be concussed. “It’s..San” he finally muttered out. You cleared your throat, “okay San, we understand you’re not in a great condition right now, we’re going to take you back to shore to check you out, right now what i need you to do is sit down and relax.” San just nodded his head and went to sit in a seat on the boat. Before he got too comfortable though you said “oh and don’t fall asleep we don’t know if you have a concussion.” Once again he nodded and just turned his head to look out onto the water instead

okay hear me out....merman San...

you're a marine biologist who's out working on a boat with your lab partner Yunho when you hear something hit the side of the boat only to find, a man. It looks like he was lost at sea, you take him in but as you learn more about him the more odd he seems. He says he got lost swimming with friends. Way out there? He has no phone number to contact anyone, and as weeks go by with him staying in your home his blue hair doesn't grow any roots. Who is this strange yet beautiful man?

[lovecanyon]

ceo harry please, i wanna see what happened to addison!

SIMPLICITY

ceo!harry x reader

part two to this

(MASTERLIST) (CEO!HARRY MASTERLIST)

-

"You're fired."

Addison lets out a gasp as she takes a step back shocked.

"W-what?" She stutters widening her eyes at Harry who looked unbothered but still undeniably angry.

"Did I stutter." Harry speaks roughly staring at the girl who seemed like she was about to breakdown crying. "Now leave, or I'll have someone escort you out." He waves his hand shooing her away.

She stays silent for a moment before saying something that catches Harry off guard.

"You're going to regret this."

The CEO swiftly stands up from his chair and stalks his way towards Addison who begins to grow nervous.

"Regret what? Firing a spoiled ass girl who doesn't do her job right. I think you're forgetting that my wife is the best lawyer in New York, she can destroy your life in less than five minutes." Harry glares at the now fired secretary.

Y/N was the smartest lawyer in all of New York. Her clients were all very famous people like Ariana Grande, most of the SNL cast, Taylor Swift, Adele….I mean the list goes on and on.

Everyone trusted Y/N because she was very passionate about her job.

"I-I'm sorry—“

"Great now leave." Harry scoffs making his way to the office door. Addison soon realizes that he opened it for her which makes a blush form on her face.

Maybe she still had a chance? He was holding the door open for her so that means he had to like her.

A throat clearing takes Addison out of her trance.

"Can you go now?" Harry scowls holding the door open with the heel of his Gucci boot.

"Y-yeah." Addison nods before slowly walking out of his office wanting to savior the last moment she had with him.

As Harry was about to shut the door in Addison's face her hand slapping on the door stops him. With a huff he swings his office door open.

"What."

"Am I getting my last paycheck?" She questions the CEO who looked annoyed of her.

"I'll let my wife decide that." Harry says before shutting the door on Addison's face. His reply made her face turn pale.

Ms. Styles did not like her.

-

A knock on Emily and Addison's apartment door makes both girls huff.

"I'm not getting it." Emily rolls her eyes and she continues to shove a spoonful of ice cream in her mouth. Addison ignores her friend and she carries on watching the movie in front of her.

Another round of knocks make both girls groan.

"Go get it. It's probably Mr. Coleman again." Emily grumbles nudging Addison with her feet.

"Fuck off." Addison mutters standing up from the couch. As she makes her way to the door more knocks were heard. "Jesus I'm coming!" She quickly unlocks the door.

The person standing on the other side of the door makes her appalled.

"Addison." Ms. Styles nods.

"W-what are you doing here?" Addison questions nervously.

"Just bringing you your check. Got your address from your emergency card that was thrown in the trash." Y/N says as she holds an envelope out showcasing her new manicure.

"Oh thanks—“

"I recommend that you don't fall in love with anymore married men, especially the ones that have families. It's disgusting and I hope you learn to have more self respect for yourself." Y/N tells her before walking away leaving the fired secretary with her jaw dropped.

A shocked Addison watches the expensive looking woman leave. Ms. Styles words made her rethink her entire life decisions.

Y/N truly was a very omnipotent woman.

-

tag list: @harrysmatcha @harryspinkpillow @helen-with-an-a @florencepughily @needyghosts @peterparkerbae @deadass1011 @toji-dabi-wife @fallonx @cherriesrae @alienorknight @valluvsu @drphilssoulmate @ivegotparticulartaste @ayeshathestyles @hazgoldenstyles @eiffelmezarry @tsukishimawhore @renatavieira @michellekstyles @eleanordaisy @shawnsblue @academiaghosts @evanjh @samaraaaaa @agustdpeach @hannahnikohl @hrryscherrys @whoscamila @ch3rryrry @msolbesg @newyorker14 @futuristicpalacegardenpsychic @youusunshineyoutemptress @galacticharrys @eunoiamaa @kaitieskidmore1 @mexicosuitrry @filmsbyameilia @twilightrry @cherryfragrancx @ssuziess @milkiane

[cevansbrat0007]

Out of Line

Summary: Sequel to Off Limits. It’s been five months since the two of you agreed to make things official, but Chris has a knack for making things difficult. Chris Evans x Black!Reader

*Warnings: Jealous Chris Evans, Toxic Chris Evans, Daddy Kink, Smut, Possessive Behavior, Cursing, Unprotected Sex, Punishment, Spanking, Bratty Reader, Alcohol Consumption, Manhandling, Aggressive Behavior, Minors DNI

A/N: This is a sequel to Off Limits. As always, I’d love your feedback, so please let me know what you think. Semi-proofread. Not beta’d. All mistakes are my own.

_____

It’s barely 9:00am and your boyfriend already has you positively fuming. You end your call with Kim as politely as possible before forcing yourself to take a deep breath and count to ten. You repeat it three times, and it still doesn’t work. 

“Y/N!” A deep male voice beckons from downstairs. “Breakfast is ready. Come get it while it’s hot!” 

 Oh, something was hot alright – you. Under the damned collar. And now he wanted you to join him in the kitchen. The place where you knew he kept all the knives, a rolling pin, as well as a hefty cast iron skillet. As you stomp down the stairs you find yourself fantasizing about which implement you were going to use, and how you were going to use it. 

 “Y/N! What are you –” He calls again, just as you round the corner, hands on your hips. “Well good morning, gorgeous. You were upstairs an awful long time.” And then he finally notices the look on your face. “Uh, everything okay?”

 He sets a steaming plate loaded with pesto eggs and bacon on the counter next to you, as well as a cup of coffee. Then he fixes a plate for himself and takes a seat, frowning when you don’t immediately join him. You cross your arms over your chest, your foot tapping on its own accord.

 “Chris…” You huff out, trying to find the right words to help you voice your displeasure. “Yes, sweet girl?” He takes a sip of his coffee, patiently waiting for you to continue.

 You lean forward, resting your elbows on the counter. “I got a really interesting phone call just now.”

 “Oh?” He quirks a brow and bites into a crispy piece of bacon.  

“Mmhm. From a realtor named Kim in L.A.”

 “Interesting.” You watch as he takes another bite before he grabs a hold of the butter knife he’d set out for you. He slowly drags it closer to his person. “What’d she want to talk to you about?” You slap a hand to your forehead, trying to keep yourself from screaming. 

“She wanted to know when I wanted to schedule an appointment with her to discuss listing my place.” Your chin rests on your other hand. “Which is awfully odd, don’t you think?” 

Chris shrugs nonchalantly, which pisses you off even more. “Not really. When are you two planning to meet?” Couldn’t the prick find it in him to appear even a little guilty? He was an actor for heaven’s sake. Fucking pretend! “Babe, you’ve got my full attention, but sit down and eat while you finish your story.”  

“You fucking asshole! Are you serious?!” You can’t help it when your voice raises an octave. Did this man want you to strangle him? In a flash, you take your plate and dump the food into the trash. Later you would admit that your actions were a tad dramatic, but at the time it felt great. 

“Thought you liked it when I made you pesto eggs.” He mutters petulantly into his coffee cup with a shake of his head.

“Forget the pesto eggs, dude!” You snarl. “You had no right to call this Kim whoever-she-is and tell her that I was looking to sell my house because I was planning to move in with my boyfriend!” You let Chris stew on that for a moment. He was so far out of line this time that you could barely think straight.   

“Why the fuck not? Was just trying to help make things easier.” He coughs, not looking at you. Your right eye starts to twitch. 

“Easier how?” You fling an annoyed arm in the air. “Especially when I’m not even planning to move in with you!” His eyes swing towards you. Jesus Christ. You’d said it before and you’d say it again. You would pay good money just to spend even an hour inside of the magical place that was Chris Evan’s mind.

“Not moving in?” He repeats incredulously, his nostrils flaring. “Yes, the hell you are!” Praying to the powers that be for patience, you make your way over to him. Your small hands cup either side of his face. 

 “Chris, sweetheart, I love you, but –” 

 “No buts.” He interrupts. “I love you too. You’re my best friend. It’s that simple.” 

You continue on as if he hadn’t spoken. “…But we’ve only talked about this maybe once. And things between us are still very new. I mean, we’ve only been together for five months. Moving in together is too soon.” You spoke in what you hoped was a calming, logical tone. One of you clearly needed to be the voice of reason here, and he wasn’t it.  

His large, slightly calloused hands move to cup your own. “That’s not true, Y/N.” He pouts. “You and I also spent a good four months fucking each other’s brains out before we went public, which technically puts us at nine months.” You roll your eyes, but you can’t quite help the way your heart clenches at the sincerity in his voice. “Not to mention that we’ve been friends for years, baby. I know you and you know me.” 

“Chris, honey, that’s not how any of this works. Not if we want it to last.” You momentarily rest your forehead against his. 

“Well why not?” He grumbles. “Dodger and I want you here. And I know that you want to be here. With us.” Chris Evans was easily the most hard headed man you had ever met. “Stop playing around and just sell your place already.” He wraps his strong arms around your waist when you try to pull away.

You are completely fed up with this conversation. “No, Chris. I love my home in Los Angeles, and I love my penthouse in New York.” He groans softly and drops his head to your chest. 

“Then fucking keep the spot in New York, Y/N. I don’t give a shit. Just move in already.” He gives you a squeeze. “Want you here. Need you close.” He mumbles against the fabric of your shirt. Well, his shirt. Technically. 

“And what about my place in L.A.?”

“I’ve got a place big enough for 15 people in the same city. Sell it and move in with me there too. Then we’ll have a home in Boston and Los Angeles. Would that make you happy?” Out of ideas on how to move forward, you offer the only option you can think of that makes sense to you.   

“Maybe we can revisit this conversation in a few months, alright?” His grunt of displeasure let’s you know that the two of you would be going toe-to-toe over this again sooner rather than later. Chris lets you go and proceeds to stiffly rise from his stool before picking up his half-eaten plate and tossing it into the garbage. He puts both of your plates into the sink. 

“Chris, honey…come on…” You try, only to be ignored. 

“I’m going to take Dodger for a walk and then work out. If you get hungry, your favorite yogurt and that granola crap you like is in the fridge.” He walks away without looking back. 

You’re tempted to call out to him, but you also know that you can’t encourage this kind of high-handed behavior. Chris was used to getting what he wanted whenever he wanted, and you knew that if this relationship even had a chance of surviving, you couldn’t play into it. You watch as he bends down to hook a leash onto your favorite pup, giving you a great view of his perfect butt. Yeah, your man might be an ass. But he was also packing America’s ass. 

You decide to back off and let him sulk. 

________

Later that night…

You stood in front of the mirror putting the finishing touches on your outfit for tonight’s party on behalf of Chris’ friend, Adam. You didn’t know him all that well, but he seemed like a nice enough guy. You’d met him and his girlfriend, Kelley, a few times. And while you couldn’t quite get a read on him, you adored her.

As for you and Chris, well, the two of you had spent most of the day politely ignoring each other. You hadn’t seen him after his workout, and you hadn’t looked for him either – wanting to give him space. Even though you wanted nothing more than to find him, wherever he was, and cuddle up to his big body. He needed space. Honestly, you both did. 

At some point he had wandered into the bedroom to shower. You’d been lounging on the bed reading Nalini Singh’s latest installment of the Guild Hunter Series. He’d made a half-hearted attempt to engage with you, reminding you about the party tonight. As if you’d forgotten. And that Scott was coming over to pick up Dodger. He was still making a point of avoiding any direct eye contact, but whatever. If he wanted to act like a child, then so be it.   

Tonight you were rocking a jade green halter dress that showed just the right amount of cleavage while respectfully clinging to your curves. You’d complemented your look with a pair of nude pumps and rose gold earrings. As for makeup, you’d decided to keep that to a minimum, preferring to go for a more natural look. Chris was still finishing dressing in his closet. 

“You almost ready, babe?” You call out as you spritz yourself with your favorite perfume. “I don’t want to be late.”

 A moment later, he struts out looking fine as hell dressed in a tight white polo and a pair of navy slacks. And what seems like for the first time since your fight this morning, he finally looks at you. 

He whistles under his breath, making you blush. His eyes immediately dip to your cleavage. “I see you want to make things difficult for me tonight.” Your eyes widen in confusion. 

“What?” You turn back to the mirror, taking a full inventory of yourself. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

“Nothing.” He responds, his heated blue-eyed gaze never leaving yours. “It’s just that you…you look like a fucking goddess. One look at you and I’m already fucking hard.” His large hand reaches down to squeeze his impressive bulge. “And now we’re going out which means I’ve got to compete with other men…seeing you like this.” He trails off, rocking on his heels as he tries to steady his own breathing. “I don’t like it.” 

“Well, I’m not changing, Chris.” On this you would not bend. It had taken an hour for you to settle on this particular outfit. 

He picks up your clutch and hands it to you. “And I’m not asking you to. Just promise me that you’ll remember who you belong to. And don’t get mad when I get in a fight tonight.” 

You roll your eyes. “You had better not fight anyone tonight, big guy, or you will be sleeping alone. Got that?” Your small, imposing finger pokes at his broad chest.  

Grinning now, Chris grabs your offending hand in his and twirls you around. Slightly dizzy, you fall into his arms with a giggle. He presses a quick, hard kiss to your lips. “I’m sorry that we didn’t get our good morning kiss. My fault.” He murmurs. 

 “No, honey. We got our good morning kiss, but we skipped our afternoon kiss. And that’s on both of us.” He kisses you again, his expert tongue dueling with yours as he dominates your mouth. Eventually you break away. Holding hands, you make your way from the bedroom to the garage.  

When you reach the car, Chris opens your door to help you inside and then leans in. You smile, assuming he’s going in for another kiss, only to be surprised when he bypasses your waiting lips to buckle your seatbelt.

“Hey! I could’ve done that –”

He cuts you off with a finger against your lips. “Just making sure my girl is safe. Let me. Okay?” 

You nod. 

“Good girl.” He shuts the passenger door before jogging around to the other side. He slides in, guns the engine, and then you’re both on your way to Club Divine.      

________

After leaving Chris’ car in the hands of the club’s valet service, you two make your way inside. His warm hand keeps a firm, proprietary grip on your backside as you navigate your way through the throng of dancing patrons on your way to the sectioned-off lounge where Adam’s celebration is being held. 

You’ve been excited to see his girlfriend, Kelley, the whole day. When you finally see her, she practically throws herself into your arms. Squeezing you tight, she smacks a kiss onto your cheek. When the two of you part, you make a point of affectionately hugging the birthday boy. Apparently, your hug lasts for a couple seconds too long when you feel Chris tug at the back of your dress. 

“You got your own girl, bro. And you can’t have mine.” He calls over your shoulder.  

Adam releases you with a chuckle. You punch your boyfriend in the arm and mumble out an apology on his behalf. The man in question shrugs and pulls you flush against his hard chest. It’s too early in the evening for you to be annoyed yet, so you choose to let it go and enjoy the subtle scent of your man’s cologne. He rests a possessive hand on your belly as he and his friend start to catch up. 

While you were comfortable, you were also ready for a drink. Your eyes find Kelley’s, who immediately flits back over to you. “We need to get you a drink, baby girl!” Grabbing your hand she (and you) attempt to dislodge yourself from Chris, who isn’t too keen on letting you go. 

 “Baby, I want a drink.” You sweetly pout up at him, giving him your best doe eyes. “Fine. But come right back to me, yeah?” His tone brooks no room for argument. You turn in his arms to lean up on your toes so you can whisper “yes, Daddy” in his ear. Sashaying away before he can smack your butt, you link your hand with Kelley’s and head over to the private bar. 

“Can we get two Kamikaze shots, please?” The bartender nods and gets to work. A minute later he slides them in front of you. You clink your glasses and toss them back. Delicious. So delicious that you take the liberty of ordering two more. 

“So how have things been with you and Chris?” Kelley asks while you wait on the next round of shots. 

“Good.” You reply, enjoying the burn of the alcohol as it courses through your system. “I mean, for the most part.” 

“Ahh.” She pokes you in the shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

You poke her back. “It’s nothing. I mean, not really. It’s just that he asked me to move in with him. Well, more like he told me too.” You amend.

Surprised, the other woman is momentarily speechless. “He asked you…to move…in? Y/N, that’s…I mean wow.”

“No, Kelley. He told me that I was moving in with him.” You sigh as the bartender slides the next round of shots in front of you. 

Kelley picks up her glass. “So, he really didn’t ask? He just assumed?” 

“Yes.” You groan. “He even called a fucking realtor on my behalf.”

“So you are moving –” She starts. “No, I am not.” You quickly interrupt.\

“Mmm. So you’re telling me Evans is a dick, huh?” You nod. She holds out her shot out to you. “I should have known the whole boy-next-door vibe he had going on was an act. If he wants you, then I saying fucking make him work for it.” You clink glasses and toss them back. This is why you liked this girl!

After downing the latest round of shots, you proceed to order drinks for you and your men. A gin and tonic with two limes for you, and a scotch for Chris. 

The two of you weave your way through the growing crowd, keeping a lookout for your boyfriends. Eventually you find them pretty much exactly where you left them. It’s obvious that he’s been waiting for you when you see how his hand is impatiently jiggling in his pocket. You immediately hand him his drink when you reach him, hoping that your offering will smooth things over. 

Chris looks at the whiskey and then back at you. “I thought I told you to come right back to me?” He arches a brow at you. Why did it make your panties damp when he told you what to do?  

“Umm, Kelley and I did a couple shots.” You respond, biting your lip. “But I brought you a drink…” He finally takes it from you, bringing it to his mouth for a sip.

“Thank you, baby.” His eyes never leave yours. “But next time don’t stay gone so long.” You playfully wrap an arm around his waist. 

“I’ll see what I can do. Now drink up.” You take a couple sips of your gin and tonic. “Remember, we’re here to have fun.” You feel, rather than hear, his grunt of agreement.

_________

A few hours later…

While the night had started out well enough, it was slowly going downhill. And as usual, Chris Evans was to blame.

You’d been enjoying the party for hours now, and both of you were more than a few drinks in. You, Kelly, and some other girls she’d introduced you to had downed a few more shots here and there. But in between those, you’d stuck to gin and tonics. After enjoying a second scotch, Chris had switched over to beer. Now that the two of you were together, he always made a point of keeping a careful count of his drinks, just in case you needed him. You, on the other hand, were allowed to drink as much as you wanted. 

The drama had started right around the time Chris had left you sitting in a chair to fetch you another drink. Promising to stay put, he’d wandered off to the bar to retrieve more gin for you and a glass of water for himself. 

That’s when you’d felt a tap on your shoulder. Turning around, you’re surprised to see Dean, a friend of yours from your time as students at Julliard. “Hey, Y/N!” He greets you, wrapping you in a tight hug. “I wasn’t sure if it was you, but I figured I had to take a chance.”

Pulling back, you take him in. “Oh my god, Dean! It’s so good to see you! How have you been?”

Back then, Dean had been the one that all the girls chased. But to his credit, he’d been focused on his studies and honing his craft. And now, even a decade later, the man was still incredibly handsome. Too bad you were happily taken. Oh well. Ships were meant for sailing and all that nonsense. 

“I’ve been great,” he responds with a wink. “I mean, it’s not like I’m a bonafide member of the Avengers, but I’ve been doing pretty well for myself.” You laugh at that. And then you notice the way his hand moves to your lower back.   

“Hey, uh, not to sound too forward, but I would love the chance to take you out for coffee tonight. Maybe catch up on old times?” He smiles at you, a dimple dotting his left cheek. You’d always found him attractive, but this time you weren’t interested. “Dean, listen, I would if I could, but I’m kind of seeing someone so…”

“Oh. Wait. It’s not the guy who –” He’s interrupted by the gruff rumble behind you. 

“Yeah, it’s the guy who’s about to kick the shit out of you if you don’t get your fucking hands off my girl.” Chris growls, taking you both by surprise. 

“Chris, stop!” You immediately angle your body in between them. While Dean certainly isn’t small, Chris easily has a good twenty pounds of muscle on the guy. “Dean is a good friend from my college days, okay? That’s all.” 

His head whips to you, anger seeping from his every pore. “Just how good a friend are we talking, Y/N?” His Boston accent is thick and pronounced. “What do you mean?” You sputter. Chris looms over you, his hands tucked safely in his pockets.

“You and I started off as just regular ol’ friends. And then we became good friends. Remember those days when you felt comfortable leaving your shoes in my room?” You were going to kill him. “And now, look at us. We’re best friends. You know, the kind of best friends that have sleepovers every night.” 

You were sooo not drunk enough for this tantrum.

“Were you and Dino here, best friends, Y/N?” He runs an agitated hand through hair. “Is that why he wants you to sneak away with him for coffee?” Oh, good lord.

Embarrassed, you turn to face Dean. “Look, I’m sorry but now is really not a good time.” The other man nods and backs away. “It was great seeing you though.” You hear Chris’ scoff in the background. “I…I’m glad you’re doing well.” He nods again before disappearing into the crowd. 

You round on Chris, eyes blazing with fury. “Are you drunk?” You hiss, hoping to god the man is sound of mind enough to say ‘yes’.

“Nope.” He counters, leaning back with his arms crossed against his chest. “So you were just being an ass, then?” He shrugs.

“Guess so. Just found myself wondering if I’m the only best friend you have, baby. Is that why you don’t wanna move in with me?” His hands go to your hips, his big body crowding yours. “You trying to keep your options open? Hmm?” You shrug him off, brushing by him in disgust as you snag your clutch from a nearby tabletop. 

He grabs your arm, halting your movements. “Where are you going?” 

“Back to the house.” You attempt to shrug away from him, but his grip remains steadfast. “And just how are you planning to get there?” His soft tone is laced with venom.

“I dunno, Chris. Maybe I’ll call an uber. Or maybe I’ll just ask Dean.” His jaw clenches as his grip on your arm tightens. “Either way, it won’t be with you.” You spit.

“You want to leave? Fine. Then we’ll leave. Together.” His angry blue eyes bore into yours as he motions to Adam, who comes right over. Briefly letting go of you, Chris pulls him in for a hug and claps a hand on his back. You use the opportunity to turn around and head in the direction of the stairs needing some fresh air and a cab. “Hey bud, thanks for the good time, but my girl and I are about to head out.” 

“No worries, bro. Thanks for coming.” He responds. “She’s good for you, man. I hope you two manage to work your shit out.” Chris rolls his eyes. “We’re fine, man. She’s just stubborn is all.”

Adam steps back with a laugh. “Yeah, I can see that. Which is why I’m gonna be nice and let you know that your girl ran out the back door like two minutes ago.”

Well, shit!

­­­­­­­­­_________

There were no available ubers in your area. Bastards. You walk down the sidewalk, hugging your arms to your chest as you search for an available cab. It’s chilly, especially for a summer night. Why on earth would you even consider moving to Boston? 

You keep walking, unsure of where you’re going. Maybe a bar or a hotel. Hell, you’d settle for a church if it meant you could get answers as to why you’d fallen for such a jerk. Could you say ‘asshole’ in church? Probably not, but it had been so long since you attended, maybe whoever was in charge would forgive you for your transgression.

You jump at the sound of a horn blaring next to you, followed by the rev of an engine. You hadn’t noticed how close you were to the edge of the sidewalk. Sorry, asshole. 

And then you feel two strong, warm arms lift you around your middle. Oh god, help! You think. I'm being kidnapped! You kick your legs out, trying to wiggle free.

“Fuck, Y/N! It’s me, Chris!” You keep flailing, accidentally elbowing him in the gut. “Stop it!” Chris grunts. “Knock it off before we actually start attracting attention.” Confused, you let him drag you to the car and place you in the passenger’s seat. When he leans in to buckle your seatbelt you push him away. You do the same thing when he tries again.

“Fine. You wanna ride without a seatbelt? Go ahead!” He slams the door and walks around to his side. You try to open the door, only to realize that he’d turned on the child locks. That motherfucking bastard!

You spend the entire ride back to Chris’ place staring out the window in silence. 

________

Chris pulls the car into his garage and shuts off the engine. Deciding that you couldn’t stand to be in the car with him for another minute, you go to open the door, completely forgetting about the damned child locks. 

“Take off the fucking child locks, Chris.” You grit out. “Take them off right now!”

“No.” Is all he says before exiting the vehicle, slamming the door behind him. He walks over to your side and opens the door. “Get out, Y/N.” You shake your head no. “Now, please.”

“I said no, asshole.” You pull out your phone and open the uber app. “I’m getting a car and going to a hotel.” 

Chris leans forward with a heavy sigh. “Baby, you are not going to a hotel.”

“Watch me.” You refresh the app, desperately praying for an available driver. He sighs again. “The only thing I want to watch you do is walk through that door right there.”

“Fuck off!” You snap, suddenly filled with glee when the app finally connects you with someone nearby. Chris snatches the phone from your hand and cancels your ride before slipping it into his pocket. Fed up, he hauls you out of the seat and throws you over his shoulder as if you weigh nothing. 

Instantly you begin to struggle. “Put! Me! The! Fuck! Down!” Each word is peppered by a blow to his back. His palm cracks against your ass as he enters the house. 

“Keep it up, baby.” He growls, delivering another blow. “You know how much I love spanking you. Always gets you nice and wet for me…” He smacks you again before depositing you on his living room couch. 

“Aughh! You are such a fucking dick!” You chuck a pillow at his head, which he blocks. “We are never having sex again!” You lob another pillow at him. He catches it and tosses it aside. And then he grabs you. You roll off the couch and onto the floor, growling when he pins you underneath him. “Fuck you!”

“Okay, baby.” He purrs before nuzzling his face into your neck. “If that’s what you want, then Daddy will give you his cock.” Chris sinks his teeth into the tendon where your neck and shoulder connect. He draws the soft flesh into his mouth, sucking hard. That was going to bruise.

You push at his face, trying to dislodge him. But the man doesn’t budge. How dare he try to mark you like this? “I hate you.” You hiss when he bites you again.

He pauses at your words, lifting his mouth from your skin. “No, you don’t. But I’m about to fuck you like I hate you.” One large hand grabs both of yours, pulling them to his chest.  “Now, can I trust you to take your dress off like a good girl?”

You let out a shriek as you buck underneath him. “Get the fuck off me, you bastard!” This man was not getting anywhere near your pussy tonight. 

“Mmm, guess I’ll have to help you.” Chris’ free hand reaches up to yank down the bodice of your dress, freeing your breasts to gaze. You can’t help the whine that escapes your lips when he leans down to suckle at your nipple through the thin fabric of your bra. His teeth nip the pebbled tip before moving to your other breast. The sounds this man is making as he devours you are positively criminal. 

He lets go of your hands to seek out your pussy. “Wanna see how drenched you are for me…” You clamp your legs together, halting his exploration. Now it’s his turn to hiss. “Open up.” He growls, slapping your right flank. “You don’t get to hide from me.” 

“Stop telling me what to do!” Your hand goes to his throat, applying just the right amount of pressure to startle him. The two of you wrestle for dominance. Deep down, you knew he was going to win, but you would be damned if you weren’t going down without a fight.

“I don’t care how many fucking best friends you have, Y/N. You. Are. Mine.” You hook a leg over his hip, using your momentum to flip him over onto his back. Your panty-clad pussy grinds against his hard dick as you keep a firm hold of his neck. His hands go to your waist, helping you bear down against him. The friction feels impossibly good. 

His hand grabs your head, forcing you down so that your mouth meets his. You snarl into the kiss, biting his lip hard. He growls when you try to pull away. This kiss is primal - it’s a gnashing of teeth and tongue. Fuck!

Your core continues to undulate against him. He grabs your ass, squeezing and smacking as you moan. Chris’ fingers snake their way into your panties, ripping them off you. 

“I loved those!” You cry out as you feel yourself reaching your peak. 

“Then fucking buy more, because I plan to do it to every pair.” He flips your bodies so that you are underneath him once again. “If you’re gonna cum, then you’re going to do it on my cock.” Your hands quickly find his zipper, working fast to free him from their confines. 

“That’s it, baby. Tell me how much you want your Daddy.” Your hand slaps him on it’s own accord. 

“Just shut up and fuck me already.” Breathless, you rock your sopping wet cunt against his dick. 

“You know, I’d planned on fucking you long and slow tonight.” He flips you onto your hands and knees, pushing down on your upper back so that your ass remains positioned high in the air. “But, I think you need something more.” He surges inside you with one hard thrust. “And Daddy is happy to provide.” 

END

[prettyyoungandbored]

Becoming Mrs. Wayne [The Dark Knight] Eleven

Pairing: Christian Bale!Bruce Wayne x OC

Summary: Demetria Gallagher knew her cozy life would change the second she became engaged to Bruce Wayne. But what she doesn’t know is she’s getting more than what she agreed to. (I am trash at summaries.)

Warning: None

Taglist: dragonballluver, disgraceful-marvel-trash, barikawho, claudiahxrdy , @christianbalefanatic, @librarianafterdark​,  @rosegxoxo​

Previous

“They’re planning a public memorial for Gillian,” Demetria announced, setting the newspaper on the kitchen island for Bruce and Alfred to look at. “My guess is they’re gonna have it in the middle of the city during the afternoon like they did for the former mayor last year.”

“The perfect event for him to attack Garcia,” Bruce remarked, setting down his latte cup.

“Do you think he’s going to be...” she pursed her lips as she tried to come up with the correct word. “I wanna say ‘subtle’ but that’s not exactly correct.”

“Considering his method of violence, it won’t be. Then again, his methods do vary.”

She let out a sigh. “I think it’s stupid to have a public funeral considering he’s going to find a way to attack there. I mean, I get they want to do the whole ‘Gotham Strong’ bullshit, but they’re really just putting themselves at risk.”

“Some people don’t let what others fear interrupt their lives,” Alfred pointed out. “Many have continued their lives through plagues and pandemics.”

“I sometimes forget how accustomed people in this city are to violence and murder,” she exhaled softly.

Bruce walked over, wrapping his arms around her from behind, kissing her cheek. “It’s still home.”

Demetria pulled out her cell phone from her back pocket. “I’m going to see if Harvey can persuade them to cancel this thing.”

Bruce chuckled. “Good luck.”

“You underestimate my skills, Wayne.” She dialed Harvey’s number, pressing the phone to her ear as it rang.

“This is Harvey Dent, District Attorney for Gotham City. I can’t come to the phone-.”

She let out a sharp “fuck” as she hung up. “Ok, I need to go to his office.” 

Bruce’s head perked up. “Sweetheart, I don’t think that’s a good idea-.” 

“I’ll be fine,” she said, putting her hands on his. “I can get in there without being noticed. I just need you to trust me on this one, please.” 

He glanced over at Alfred, who waved the white flag by turning away from the couple. He looked back at Demetria, who mumbled one last “please” before he gave in. 

“Only if I drop you off.”

“I’ll take it.”

As she made her way to the bedroom, she dialed Grace’s number. 

“Grace, hey, it’s Demetria. Listen, I need you to do me two huge favors.” 

===================================

If running in and out of cars quickly were an Olympic sport, Demetria would hold the gold medal. The second Bruce stopped the car, Demetria ran out. She sprinted toward the side back exit of the building and knocked on the door twice. 

The door opened, Hank poking his head out. 

“Hank, you’re a lifesaver,” Demetria greeted as the old man let her in. 

“For you, anything.” He pointed up the stairs. “You know where you’re going?” 

“Always.” 

She bolted up the stairs, using any and all energy she could muster. While athleticism was not her strong suit, the urgency of the matter fueled her. By the time she made it to Harvey’s floor, the pain in her legs and stomach became a reminder that she needed to workout more. 

She paused for a moment, catching her breath and letting out a couple “Oh fuck”s and “shit”s as she tried to gain whatever composure she could without wasting any tine. When she was able to muster just enough to get her to Harvey’s office, her pace picked up. 

She burst through the door, her entrance causing Harvey and Mayor Garcia to jump out from their chairs.

“Jesus Demetria!” Harvey snapped. 

“You have to postpone the memorial,” she cut him off. She turned to Mayor Garcia. “You can’t do this. Not right now. You’re endangering yourselves and the city.” 

Mayor Garcia stood up. “Mrs. Wayne, I can assure-.” 

She rolled up her sleeve to reveal her stitches. “This is what he did to me. That same night, he threw Rachel Dawes out the window and killed Gillian and the judge. He will go after you and anyone else just to get to Harvey at any given moment. He’s more strategic than you think he is. I am begging you to wait out. Please.” 

Mayor Garcia reached toward her. “I am so sorry for what happened to you, Mrs. Wayne. Truly, I am; however-.”

She stepped back, realizing this man was not going to budge. She turned to Harvey. 

“Harvey, c’mon” she pleaded, slamming her hands on his desk. “You know it’s the right thing to do. You of all people know of what he’s capable of. Please.” 

Harvey glanced over at Mayor Garcia before lowering his head. Hope built inside Demetria, when Harvey started walking toward her. “Mr. Mayor, please excuse us,” he pardoned. 

Her eyes widened. “Harvey.”

He grabbed Demetria’s arm and led her out the door, slamming it from behind. He let her go, causing her to stumble back. 

“Don’t you ever pull a stunt like that again!” he seethed. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“I could ask you the same thing! Ever since you’ve gotten this job you’ve been so power hungry-.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re Caesar. You’re never giving up the power.” 

Harvey let out a sharp scoff. “I’m Caesar? Really?” 

���You took an oath to protect the city and its citizens. This memorial will put everyone in danger. You, the mayor, Rachel-.”

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about!” he barked, pointing a finger in her face. He took a step forward. “You should take cues from your fiancé when it comes to dealing with matters city and just look the other way.”

His words knocked her out, her mouth hanging open. The man in front of her was no longer the Harvey she loved and adored. Instead, he was a stranger who bore resemblance to her best friend.

She shoved him viciously. “Fuck you Harvey!”

==========

Demetria went against Bruce’s wishes and decided to take a detour home in order to cool off. She didn’t want him getting upset or even involved in her and Harvey’s argument as it would only complicate matters even more. 

She put on a baseball cap and sunglasses, blending in with everyone else in the city. She was grateful for the sunglasses that covered tears of anger and disappointment. 

The Joker had managed to destroy more than the city and its residents. He took her fiancé’s sanity and her best friend’s moral compass. And for what? What was this psychopath’s endgame? 

She went to a nearby bodega, figuring she’d grab a drink before calling a cab. As she made her way to the back of the bodega to grab a drink from the fridge in the back. 

Picking out a peach Snapple, her eyes turned to find a grey tabby sprawled out on the beer boxes. She gave it a small smile and reached her hand out to pet it. 

Stroking the top of its head, Demetria was able to smile as the cat’s purrs soothed her anger. 

It reminded her of college when she and Harvey would pick up drinks for parties at bodegas. Harvey would tease her for trying to make the bodega cat love her. 

“It’s gonna scratch you if you keep annoying it,” he told her.

She stuck her tongue out at him as she reached her hand toward the orange cat. The car hissed, causing Demetria to utter a “Jesus Christ!” as she stumbled back. Harvey burst into laughter. 

She missed her best friend, wondering how long it had been since they spent any time together. Her heart weighed heavy as she realized that maybe their friendship wasn’t as strong as she’d thought. 

Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard a loud voice outside declare, “7 a.m.! This is where you need to be!” 

She looked up to see a large group of Gotham’s cops gathering as their captain spoke to them. 

“If you are even five minutes late to the memorial tomorrow, you will receive a write up,” he went on. “Do I make myself clear?” 

Realizing what this meant, Demetria wandered around the store, eyeing around a security camera. Just when she was about to give up, she went to the register where it was on the shelves where the cigarettes were. 

She smiled. 

Gotham really needs to update its security camera system, she thought.

=================================================

The Next Day...

“Bruce, where’s my laptop?” Demetria asked as she searched through the desk drawers in the Batcave. 

“I disposed of it,” he replied as he threw on his leather jacket. 

She shot up. “You did what?!”

“From now on, I want you using this system,” he told her, motioning to his set-up. “It’s safer than your set up. Besides, I know you can handle it.”

“Yeah, babe, that’s not the issue here.” She folded her arms across her chest. “ I told you I needed it to get access to the bode-.” 

“Screen 1, top left.” He quickly kissed her cheek. 

She looked up to see the bodega. “Well, at least you listened to me.” She turned to him. “You wiped out the computer?” 

“Not a trace left.” 

“Fair enough.” 

“I’ve checked all the databases,” Bruce told Alfred as he began to make his way out. “There are four possibles. Cross-reference the addresses. Look for a hard side, overlooking the parade.” 

“Try Melvin and White,” Demetria suggested, as she took a seat in one of the chairs. Her eyes met the computer screen where the bodge camera was. The officers stayed in place, ready to march.

Bruce turned to her as he rolled out his motorcycle. “Any sign yet?” 

“No, they’re just about to leave any minute.” 

“Keep watch.” 

“You got it.” 

“She’s right!” Alfred called out, looking at another screen. “Melvin and White. 1502 Randolph Apartments.” 

Once Bruce was gone, Alfred turned to Demetria. “How'd you know?” 

“That’s where the GCN media truck is.” She eyed him. “They always park there when covering events and there’s always police presence there protecting the van. The cops assigned to protect the van are fairly useless.”

She grabbed the remote and turned on the TV to GCN’s coverage of the funeral. Her eyes reverted to the bodega where she saw the officers march. “Any way, you can zoom in?”

Alfred pressed a couple of button and the camera zoomed in. Her eyes followed every office possible. 

“Nothing yet unless he’s extremely good at blending in,” she mumbled. 

“Are you suggesting he might be posing as one of the officers?” Alfred questioned. 

“It’s one of my beliefs.” 

Her eyes turned to the GCN coverage where the camera focused on Harvey taking a seat on the podium alongside Rachel, Commissioner Gordon and a couple other city officials. Her heart sank, their spat from yesterday playing over in her mind. 

She didn’t tell Bruce about it, not wanting him to get upset over it. Throughout the night, her eyes went to her phone hoping and praying for two simple words. Two words that showed he didn’t mean what he said. Two words to make it all go away. 

Nothing came. 

She moved her eyes back to the bodega to find the ally empty. She sighed and turned to Alfred. “Anything from Bruce yet?” 

“Not yet. Now, we sit and wait.” 

She stood up. “I’m not waiting.” She pulled out a folded piece of paper from her back jean pocket. She unraveled it, revealing the city of Gotham. She grabbed pen and began marking several streets. 

“City officials are taking the same route they did for the former mayor’s funeral. That means police are following the same safety protocols. The department will have police trucks in four intersections in the event something happens.” Her fingers pointed to the four dots. “We need to find cameras in these areas. If The Joker’s not there, at least his friends will be.” 

“I thought you booked guests for shows?” Alfred questioned.

She made a face. “They had me do a lot of stupid shit that was above my pay grade.”

Alfred returned his gaze back to the computer. 

“Which intersection first?”

“West 80 and 79th.” 

She turned to see him type. The camera revealed nothing. Not even a police truck. “Try 65th and 64th.” 

He typed and the camera came up with the intersection. Still nothing. “51st and 52nd” 

Once again, disappointment. “The fuck is wrong with these guys?” she mumbled. “I would’ve though they’d been there.” She then eyed 70th and 71st.” 

“Ok try-.” 

She then heard a popping sound. Both her and Alfred looked up to see Gordon on the floor the podium floor, his body on top of Mayor Garcia. The camera dropped the ground, scattered feet running around.

“What the fuck happened?” Demetria asked, her stomach dropping.

The camera cut back to Alicia in the newsroom. “We apologize to our viewers for the disturbing video,” she reported. “As was shown, shots were fired during the funeral service, one of the bullets aimed at Mayor Garcia. It’s unclear if the mayor was hit as Gotham City Commissioner James Gordon jumped in front to protect him. We are trying to get a hold of Mike and our crew on the scene-.” 

Demetria pulled out her phone and began dialing Harvey’s number. Her heart rate picked up, stomach in tight knots. Her mind flew in a million directions as the phone rang slowly. 

“Please pick up, please pick up,” she begged. 

“You’ve reached-.”

She hung up and tried calling Rachel, only to be greeted with another voicemail. Hot tears fell down her cheek as she tried Harvey again.

After hearing the voicemail greeting for the seventh time....she went to hang up when she saw Rachel calling. 

“Rachel, oh my god!” 

“I’m ok, I’m ok,” she assured calmly. “I got out of there as soon as I can. I’m headed back to the office.” 

“Where’s Harvey?” 

“He took off. He’s fine, but he took off. He told me to let you know he was ok.” 

She exhaled, relief washing over her. “Ok...please get home safe and text me or Bruce-.” 

“I’m going back to the office. Tell Bruce I’m ok, will you?” 

“Of course. Text me when you get there.” 

She hung up and turned to Alfred, sniffling. “Rachel’s fine. Harvey’s fine. I’ll wait for Bruce to get back so-.” 

Her eyes turned to the screen where she saw the lower third bar read: BREAKING NEWS: GOTHAM CITY COMMISSIONER JIM GORDON KILLED IN SHOOTING.

[ohbuckie]

ALPHA SIGMA WHATEVER-THE-FUCK | B.B.

Summary: Bucky’s a douchebag frat brother, but Christ, is he delicious.

Warnings: smut, bathroom sex, drinking (both parties are sober and able to give consent), mention of drugs

Word Count: 1.7k

Bucky Barnes. Conceited, loud, irritating. Built like a Greek God—with that perfect jaw, and those thick forearms, and that firm chest. All of his t-shirts are a size too small, and he’s never been caught wearing a baseball cap forwards, or without a protein shake in his hand.

“Hey, Y/N,” he jogs to catch up with you, “what’s up?”

“Walking.” You answer dryly. It’s unsurprising, really, that he just randomly bumped into you. He always seems to.

“Where?”

“To class.”

“I won’t keep you long, then.”

“Please don’t ‘keep me’ at all, Bucky. What do you want?”

“I’m having a party tonight. Thought you could come. Wear something cute.”

“Don’t be gross.”

“I’m not-”

“Yes, you are.” You step up to the building that your class is in, and turn to him to speak. “I’ll come if I don’t have to bring anything.”

“Perfect. Beach theme.”

Of course it is. Any excuse for every girl there to be wearing the smallest outfit possible.

“Okay, whatever.” You step through the door, and hear him again before it closes behind you.

“Wear that blue bikini top you have!”

“You’re a freak, Barnes!”

—

You show up in the bikini top he mentioned, but only because your roommate, Natasha, told you it looked better than the other ones. You’re wearing an unbuttoned tropical shirt over it, and shorts on the bottom, which is a lot tamer than some of the other girls in the house, dressed in only bikinis, or a t-shirt with just bottoms. You won’t allow Bucky to see you like that without working for it first.

He greets you at the door, dressed in only swim trunks and sunglasses and holding a can of cheap beer. His best friend, Steve Rogers, steps up behind him to greet Natasha, who he so obviously wants to fuck. He takes the bowl of veggie dip that she insisted on bringing from her hands and gestures for her to come inside. You roll your eyes.

“What, you got a crush on Stevie?”

“He makes it so obvious how badly he wants to bang her.” You explain, thinking maybe he’ll take the hint. He doesn’t. “Where are the drinks?”

“I’ll show you.” He waves you inside and leads you to the counter through the sea of people already in the house, pointing to where all of the containers of mixed drinks are, telling you about what’s in them. You’re really only paying attention to the way the muscles of his back interact, how they tense and move as he moves his arms to point and turns around to look at you while he speaks. “You listening?” He grins.

“Wha- uh, yeah, of course.” You feel your cheeks heat up, and you hate that he caught you staring. If he wasn’t so insufferable, you’d have slept with him by now, but he insists on being the biggest douchebag anybody’s ever met.

“You want me to get you a drink?”

“No, thanks. I’m perfectly capable.”

“Yeah, okay. Alright, I’m gonna go find Sam. Maybe he doesn’t have a stick up his ass.”

You scoff and find a cup, filling it with whatever the last thing Bucky showed you was; sangria, probably. It’s much too strong, but you don’t mind so much—it’s not like you came here to be sober.

It doesn’t take long for Natasha and Steve to loosen up enough to be grinding on each other—Steve’s chest pressed against her back, his hands on her waist, his lips on the side of her neck. Bucky and Sam are playing beer pong with a few other brothers, yelling everything they say and spilling drinks on each other.

You’re only a couple in—far from drunk—but the way that Bucky’s personality takes up the entire room is far more intoxicating than any alcohol in this house. He has streams of beer dribbling down his chin and chest, and perhaps it’s a little unhinged. but you want nothing more than to lick it off.

You step over to him and he instinctively puts his arm around your waist. “You wanna do this one?”

“Oh, no, I’m not-”

“No, no, come on, I’ll show you.” He stands behind you and takes your wrist in his hand, pulling it back to where it needs to be. “Be gentle with it. Use your wrist more than your elbow.” He places the ball in your hand, and trusts you to do the rest, standing back with his arms crossed over his chest. You flick the plastic towards the gathering of Solo cups across the table and, miraculously, falls into one. Bucky throws his arms up and cheers for you, watching Sam drink across the table.

He looks down at you with a smile on his face, and it goes straight to your stomach. You stick to him for the rest of the game, taking his turns and letting him keep his hands on you. You realize his hands have never been on you before, but you very much like it; he knows where to keep them.

When you win, you take the opportunity to kiss him, feeling overly confident from the adrenaline that comes with an entire room of people cheering for you. His lips are soft, and he holds you close, with one hand on your back and the other on your waist. He’s a decent kisser—not too slobbery, like most other frat guys—and can keep his tongue to himself, for the most part. One of his friends shoves him playfully, and you pull away from him, giggling.

“You’re not drunk, right?” He asks, pushing some of your hair behind your ear.

You shake your head. “Are you?”

“Nope.” He takes your hand and brings you to the hallway near the bathroom, pushing you against the wall and pressing his lips to yours again. His hands cup your cheeks, and this time, his tongue makes an appearance. It moves along your bottom lip, making its way into your mouth. He tastes like beer and smells like Irish Spring, but it acts as a pheromone of sorts, and makes you want him even more.

His knee slides between your legs and presses against your core, and you wrap your arms around his neck to try to get closer, if that’s even possible. His breath fans over your cheek and his thumb rubs your cheekbone, but before anything allows this moment to be sweet, somebody pats Bucky on the back and informs him that the bathroom is now free.

He wastes no time in pulling you through the door, nearly slamming it behind him. Your lower back hits the counter and sends a pain up your spine, but you quickly forget it when his hands move down your torso and stop at your ass. He kisses down your neck sloppily, holding your head back by your hair. He pushes your shirt down your shoulders, urging you to shimmy it off of your arms, which you do.

“Turn around.” He breathes, running his fingers through his thick hair.

You stare at him, distracted, before processing his words and doing as he asked. You bend over the counter and feel him reach around you to unbutton your shorts, letting them fall to the floor.

“You wore the matching bottoms?” He chuckles, hotly kissing the nape of your neck.

You shrug. “They’re cute.”

He responds only by saying “Uh-huh,” and tugging them down past your thighs.

“How many girls have you fucked in here, Barnes?”

“That’s not relevant.” He mumbles, and you hear his belt hit the floor. “Drawer next to you is condoms.” You open it and find what you’re looking for, holding your hand behind your back with the packet between your fingertips.

He unwraps it quickly and takes a moment to roll it down his cock before he rubs the tip against your pussy, earning a surprised gasp from you. Slowly, he breaches your entrance, and he’s a lot bigger than you expected, with how big of a douchebag he is.

“Fuck, Bucky.”

“I’ve been telling you we should fuck.”

“Shut up.” You moan. “You’re ruining it.”

He grabs onto your hips and pulls you backwards, bottoming out completely. He starts thrusting shallowly, and you can feel him staring at where your bodies meet, watching himself disappear inside of you like he’s wanted to for so long.

“Jesus Christ, you’re so hot.” He moans, deepening his thrusts and picking up the pace.

You look down at your hands—pressed against the porcelain, slipping back and forth every time Bucky fucks himself into you. There’s powder beneath your fingers, but you decide you won’t try to guess if it’s cocaine or something else.

You hear his skin slapping against yours, echoing off of the walls, surely loud enough for anybody outside to hear. “God, Buck, it feels-”

“So fucking good.”

You nod. “Uh-huh.”

He continues fucking you, so that your pelvic bones dig into the counter in front of you, and your toes just barely reach the floor. He takes a fistful of your hair and yanks your head backwards so that you’re staring at the mirror.

“Look at me while I fuck you.”

It makes you swallow hard and clench around him, and it’s probably the first time you’ve ever done something he’s told you to do without any hesitation. You look at his concentrated face, the sweat gleaming on his forehead and chest, his teeth digging into his lower lip to keep himself quiet. He’s never been so dedicated to something in his entire life.

You feel him hit a spot inside of you that’s never been touched before, and it makes you cry out. “Goddamnit, Barnes! Fuck, I’m close, don’t stop!”

“Was not planning on it.” He says, snapping his hips until your knees buckle and shake, and you tell him you’re cumming. He fucks you through it, and finishes in the middle of your orgasm, pushing himself all the way into you until he spills everything he has into the condom. “Fuck.” He mutters, and pulls out of you, tying the condom and tossing it in the trash can next to the toilet.

You stand straight and gather your things from the floor—your button-up, your swimsuit bottoms, your shorts—before putting them back on and turning to face him. “I didn’t think you knew how to do that.”

“How to do what?”

“Make a girl cum.”

[cloudslostlibrary]

A new book has been found !

Book Title: Maybe You’re Not So Bad After All… Part Three

Characters: CC! Wilbur Soot, Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Summary: After your failed minecraft date, you agree to go on a real date with Wilbur.

TWs: Stalkerish ex, crying, a few swear words

Author’s Note: This is the third and final part of this series, the others can be found below.

Part One Part Two

Masterlist

“I’ll pick you up in half an hour?”

“Sounds good.” You answered before saying your goodbyes, leaving the discord call.

“Wow,” you thought aloud to yourself. “I’m going on a real date with Wilbur in thirty minutes.”

“Oh God! Thirty minutes?!” You rushed around your house to get ready.

“What am I supposed to wear when I know absolutely nothing about what we’re going to do?” You stood in front of your closet, sorting through your clothes aimlessly for a while.

“Oh I’ve got nothing to wear! This is horrible!” Your full closet just didn’t seem to hold anything you wanted.

“Ding, dong, ding, dong.” Your doorbell rang.

“WHAT?” You looked down at your phone to check the time and all the color drained from your face at the realization that you had spent the whole thirty minutes just staring into your closet.

“Well, I guess what I’m already wearing will have to do.” You whispered to yourself, “I feel like I’m forgetting something though…”

You walked out of your bedroom and to your front door, taking a deep breath before opening it.

“Hey!” You opened the door, greeting Wilbur.

“Hey Y/n! You look great!” He responded.

You almost walk out the door then remember that your keys are still inside.

“Oh crap wait I almost forgot my keys! That would’ve sucked oh wow. Uh, come in, you can wait on the couch or something while I find them” You walked back inside, Wilbur following close behind.

“The couch is right over there,” you pointed, “make yourself at home.”

Wilbur walked into your living room and sat on the couch, putting his feet on the coffee table before quickly deciding against it and taking them off.

You were searching around for your keys when you heard the doorbell ring again.

“I thought you said you didn’t have any plans for today?”

“I didn’t…” You responded as you opened the door

“What are you doing here??”

Your ex, Sam, stood in the doorway with a bouquet of flowers in their hand, quickly inviting themselves in.

“I’m so sorry for everything I said to you, I know you and Wilbur are just friends. I didn’t mean it, I was just upset. When I saw you blocked me I knew I had to come right over here and apologize-”

Wilbur walked out of the living room to see you standing in front of Sam with flowers in their hand, his jaw clenching when he remembered who they were.

“What the fuck is he doing here??” Your ex asked, raising his volume noticeably. “Jesus! Everytime I think you might be good for me you immediately prove me wrong with that fuck hanging around!”

“Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to,” Wilbur shot back, stepping up to Sam who was considerably shorter than him.

“You think I’m scared of you tough guy?”

“You should be,” Wilbur responded.

They got in each other’s faces and Sam shoved Wilbur before you quickly yelled at them to stop, “Sam get out! I don’t know why you thought it would be okay to come here but you need to leave right now.”

“I’m not going anywhere, doll” Your ex tried to push a strand of hair out of your face but you dodged it.

“Don’t fucking talk to me like that, GET OUT before I call the cops !” You yelled, standing your ground.

They scoffed and started walking towards the door, throwing the flowers on the ground causing petals to fly everywhere.

“Wilbur won’t always be here doll, and I’ll be back to win you over again.”

You slammed the door in their face and slid down it, breaking into a sob once you hit the floor.

“Theyre such a fucking creep!” Wilbur yelled in frustration.

You didn’t respond so Wilbur grabbed the bunch of flowers and put them in the trash, grabbing a broom to sweep up the rest that scattered the floor.

“I don’t think you should spend the night here until you can get a restraining order Y/n.” He advised.

“Where else would I go? I can’t afford a hotel room until then, the courts are so behind right now from COVID-”

“Uhh,” he thought for a second, “you can stay at my place till then, if you’d like?” Wilbur offered.

“You really don’t have to do that Wilbur, you’ve done so much for me already.”

“I insist. They don’t know where I live, and my place is much safer than a hotel anyhow.”

You thought about it for a second before sighing, “yeah I guess you’re right. Let me pack a bag real quick.”

You walked back to your room sniffling. You quickly filled a bag with all the things you would need for at least a week and walked back out to your living room where Wilbur stood.

“Ready to go?”

“Yeah”

The drive to Wilbur’s was a quick one. Comfortable silence filled the air as you stared out the window. The only noise was an occasional sniff to clear your stuffy nose.

Wilbur’s knuckles were white from the force he was holding the steering wheel with.

A few minutes later Wilbur pulled into his driveway.

“Your house is closer than I thought it was,” you thought aloud.

“Yeah, It’s crazy we haven’t at least met up before this,” he added.

“Sucks that this is your first impression of meeting me. I promise it’s not usually this crazy”

“What’s been happening is not your fault at all Y/n,” Wilbur said before stepping out the car and walking around to open your door for you. Grabbing your bag so you could stand up before closing your door and handing you back your bag.

“Beep, beep” the car sounded when Wilbur locked it as you both walked inside.

Wilbur’s house was simply decorated but filled with many tiny meaningful details on the inside. A Polaroid of him, Tommy, and Phil on the fridge, a Youtoos of Niki on the bookshelf in the living room. Simple things to make it look more lived in.

“Where should I put my bag?” You asked him, looking around the room.

“Oh here let me show you the guest room real quick”

Wilbur walked you down the hallway and opened a door revealing a decent sized room with a queen sized bed, a dresser, and a desk.

“It’s not much but it will work for now,” He glanced around the humble room.

You set down your bags and sat on the bed, “No it’s lovely, thank you again. For everything.”

“Of course, I’m going to let you settle in for a bit while I cook something for dinner alright? We can watch a movie or something afterwards.”

“Sure.”

And with that Wilbur left like he said he would and you leaned back into the soft bed, letting it absorb you while you pondered your thoughts for a moment before deciding to put some things away. You put your clothes in the drawers and a few other things you brought on the desk before Wilbur knocked on the door.

“Dinners ready if you want to eat,” he announced.

“Oh good, I’m starving.”

Wilbur brought you to the dinner table and you both ate your food, simple conversations being thrown about in between bites. Once you were done eating Wilbur grabbed your plate and put it in the dishwasher before starting it up.

“Do you want to watch a movie or something?” He asked after clicking start.

“I’m actually really tired,” you admitted. “Would you mind if I went to bed?”

“No of course not,” Wilbur looked at the stove’s time, “it is getting pretty late actually, I think I’ll go to sleep as well.”

You told each other goodnight and went your separate ways, him to his room and you to yours.

Hours later you were stuck staring at the ceiling, restless. You had been trying to fall asleep for hours with no luck.

“I wonder if Wilbur is still up?” You thought to yourself before throwing off the covers and stepping out of bed.

Careful not to make the floorboards creak, you softly walked across the hall to Wilbur’s room. His door was shut and his lights were off. Without thinking you twisted the door knob and looked inside.

“Wilbur?” You whispered, peaking your head in.

“Yeah?” Wilbur’s response was clouded by his groggy voice.

“Are you awake?” You stared at the floor and waited for a response.

“I am now, what’s up?” Wilbur sat up in his bed and turned on a dim lamp on his nightstand.

“I can’t sleep. Do you think- Um…” Your voice trailed off, unable to finish your sentence.

“Y/n?”

“Can I sleep in here tonight?” Your voice was hardly audible, barely a whisper. “I can sleep on the floor or something-“

“Come on,” Wilbur flipped the covers off the opposite side of his bed inviting you to lay down.

You smiled and walked over, climbing in but maintaining the space between the two of you.

“Goodnight Y/n.”

“Goodnight Wilbur.” You quickly fell asleep in the comfort of your friend’s presence.

Taglist:

@graymoon2 @allywritesforfun @wrenqueenisboss @graymoonspam @bi-narystars @toodeepintofandoms

[holylulusworld]

Her substitute (5) - Baby Girl

Summary: Once you were her best friend. Now her widower seeks shelter in your arms.

Square Filled: Free Space for @walker-bingo​​​

Ship: Cordell Walker x fem!Reader, Cordell Walker x Emily Walker (widowed)

Characters: Bonham Walker, Stella Walker, August Walker, Abeline Walker

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: angst, language, mentions of loss of a loved one, remorse, idiots in love, smut, unprotected sex, possessive Walker, creampie, marking kink, marking, fluff

Word Count: 1,7 k

Her substitute masterlist

2021 Walker Bingo masterlist

Divider by @firefly-graphics​​

<< Part 4

“...and even now, I think about him and his fucking hands.”

“Baby Girl,” pinned to the wall right next to the entrance of his house you ask yourself if it was the right decision to cave in once again. “Fuck, I’ve missed you so much, missed this pussy.”

“Cord,” while Cordell grips your ass tighter to pump up into you like a madman, you try to hold tight onto his shoulders. “Maybe we should go to the bedroom. What if someone sees us?”

“The kids are at my parent’s place,” he buries his face in your neck, groans deeply when you wrap your legs tighter around his waistline. “No one is going to disturb me while I destroy this cunt.”

“That’s not funny,” you pant, laughing when Cordell lifts his head to meet your eyes. “I don’t want anyone to see me—I mean, my naked ass.”

“Don’t worry, Y/N,” capturing your lips in a heated kiss Cordell takes your breath away. “No one is going to see you like this but me. No one.” He emphases his words with a particularly hard thrust. “But I can pin you to my bed later if you want me to.”

“Self-confident much, Mr. Walker,” you grin up at Cordell. “What if I will go after you made me cum?” he growls at your words, pushing even harder into you. He rocks your body, forces you to wrap your arms around his neck to hold tight onto him. 

“I will use my handcuffs and keep you locked away in my bedroom. No more New York, no more leaving me,” he captures your lips in a hasty kiss, breathes praises and your name against your lips. “Baby girl,” he says breathlessly, “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed your stubborn ass too,” he grabs your ass harder, holds you against the wall with all his strength. The muscles in his arms strain and fuck, the veins in his neck pop out, “and your dick.”

“Fuck, Cordell!” you whimper with every harsh thrust. “What has gotten into you?” round two at the bedroom is much rougher than before.

Your hands restrained to his headboard with his handcuffs, legs over his shoulders, and your ass in a tight grip he pumps into you.

“Look at you, all spread out for me,” he slams into you, mercilessly jerking his hips into yours. “You’ll never take another cock. I’m the only man you can fuck.”

“If you keep on going like that, you’ll destroy my pussy,” tugging at the handcuffs holding you to the headboard you groan. “I will have bruises when you are done.”

“I’ll mark this body with my cock, hands, and teeth. You will wear my marks with pride and tell everyone it was me fucking you good,” Cordell squeezes your ass tightly. He smirks darkly, knowing you are close to falling apart. “I want you to cum all over me.”

“I-I’m on it,” sweat runs down your body, your muscles ache, and to be honest, you feel like you ran a marathon. “After that round, I need a break.”

“Aw, is my baby girl tired?” the sound of your slicked cunt taking his cock in fills the room and you pray, no one can hear your desperate wails when he tilts his hips to brush over your g-spot. “You are meant to take my dick. I will never not fill this cunt.”

“I—” a strangled cry is all you give Cordell in return when your cunt tightens around his length. His balls tighten and you can feel his cum shoot into your abused sex. He groans your name, hips jerking uncontrollably to pump every droplet into you. “Fuck, did you forget a condom?”

“No—” he drops your legs to cover your body, lips claiming yours in a dirty kiss. “I’ll cum inside of you anytime I want to from now on. You’re my girl.”

“You made a mess,” sighing you look down your body. “I’m sweaty, sore and now my thighs and pussy are sticky too.”

“Felt so good,” Cordell buries his face in your neck, kissing your skin softly. “I’ve missed this, missed you. I’ll never let you go again.”

“Do you want to keep me here, restrained to your bed?” you challenge. “I’m not against having you on top of me, but you’re heavy and I need a shower.”

“Just a minute,” he opens the handcuffs, thumbs gently caressing your wrists. “How about we stay like this a few more minutes and I’ll clean you in the bathtub.”

“I thought—” you close your eyes when Cordell wraps his arms around your weak body. “Okay.” You don’t say what’s on your mind. 

“I know you believed I want you to go now, Y/N,” kissing your neck again Cordell sighs. “I’m sorry, baby girl. I was a fool for letting you go. I should’ve begged you to stay with me. It’s just, I felt like the worst person ever for seducing my wife’s best friend.”

“Can we have that shower now?” you sniffle, hiding you felt guilty every time you had sex with Cordell.

“Just one more minute, Y/N,” he whispers against your skin. “Let me hold you for a while. I need this, need you.”

“That’s a great bathtub,” you stretch your legs, smirking when Cordell runs his large hands over your breasts. “No touching, Sir.”

“Hey, that’s my bathtub, lady. You jumped into my bathtub and settled between my legs. Now your back is pressed against my chest and your ass rubs against my dick. If I share my water with you, I want to touch your tits.”

“Jesus don’t tell me you are hard again,” leaning back against his chest you sigh. “I can’t go again. I will be sore as hell, Cordell.”

He slowly runs a loofah over your skin, wondering if he should tell you what weighs heavy on his heart. “Baby—no Y/N,” he clears his throat. “I wanted to tell you. No, I must tell you that you mean the world to me.”

“That was cheesy, Mr. Walker,” you close your eyes to relax in Cordell’s arms. “Maybe I like you too.”

“You’re a brat only to be a brat,” he grumbles behind you. “I—fuck, baby girl. This is hard. No, it’s easy but I’m awful at talking about feelings. You know I loved Emily with all my heart, and a part of my heart will always belong to her, but if you want to have the rest of my heart it’s yours.” 

“Dude,” turning around in his embrace you lie on his chest. You grin up at Cordell, searching his face while you try to tame your wildly beating heart. “Did your dad write a speech for you?”

His cheeks turn pink, and you know, Bonham did write a speech for his son.

“What I tried to tell you is,” he hesitates, simply looks down at you on his chest. “I love you, baby girl.”

“I love you too, big dummy,” pressing your forehead into his shoulder you sigh. “But I can’t do this anymore. If you want to use my body and roll off seconds later to leave me alone in my cold bed, I’m out.”

“This is over, Y/N,” he whispers, ashamed he treated you badly. “Emily would be ashamed I treated her best friend as a warm body I can use to feel better. I promise to be a good partner, boyfriend, and lover from now on.”

“Y/N,” Stella grasps for your hand to drag you toward her grandparents’ house. “So, will you stay or go back to New York? Did dad apologize? Do you still like him? Wait, he held a speech right?”

“Stella, let the poor girl breathe,” Bonham chuckles. His eyes drift toward his son awkwardly stand behind you and his daughter. “Did you hold a speech, son?”

“He did the whole thing, Bonham. Next time, add roses and sweets,” you give Bonham a wink. “Now, what do we eat tonight?”

“I know what I’d like to eat,” Cordell whispers, eyes drifting toward you. 

“What did you say, Cordell?” Abeline asks, searching her son’s face. “We are having your favorite. Come in and help me prepare the dishes…”

“I have to announce something,” Cordell suddenly gets up from his chair to look around the table. “I’m glad everyone is here tonight. Firstly, I need to make sure you all know I will always love Emily, my wife,” he looks at his parents, nodding at his father, “and the mother of my children,” his eyes drift toward Stella and August. He sniffs, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his shirt.

“Dad, what’s wrong? Did something happen?” Stella asks, watching you squirm on your seat. “Please stop making me nervous.”

“I—you see,” your partner grasps for your hand to squeeze it tightly. “I love Y/N,” he finally brings out. “I know this is sudden but, I want everyone to know she’s the woman I want in my life.”

“Cordell, son,” Bonham smirks, “we already knew you are in love with Y/N. Watching you pine over your partner was tragic and painful. I’m glad you manned up.”

“When will she move in with us?” Stella blurs out, looking at you. “Right! You will move in! We can have girls nights and talk trash about dad and boys. Oh, we can paint our nails pink.”

“Stella, calm down,” August snickers. “I’m sure Y/N will move in when she’s ready.” Cordell quirks a brow, wondering when his son became a man. “Now let’s have dessert.”

“No, I want to know when Y/N moves in! Her apartment is small, and she can sleep in dad’s bedroom every night if she moves in. I mean, there will be adult noises and I do not like imaging my dad—” shuddering Stella looks at you, giving you puppy dog eyes. “Please…”

“Y/N, would you give me the honor and move in with me and my demanding daughter? August is easy to handle and you’ll barely recognize he’s around,” Cordell smirks when you nod silently. “See, it’s settled. Now let’s eat…”

Three months later you moved in with Cordell and his family. Giving your best friend’s husband and his family new hope and someone to lean on.

…and you gave yourself a loving boyfriend and two wonderful children you will love to raise with Cordell…

Walker Tags

@mimzy1994​, @rach-12​, @jaredpadaleckisbride, @jessiebean00​

----------------

All works Tags

@yolobloggers​​

@shikshinkwon​

@miraclesoflove​

@mogaruke​

@shatteredabby​

@soryuwifeyxx​

@letsdisneythings​

@i-love-superhero​

@psychicforest​

@thevelvetseries​

@anaelsbrunette​

@sabascio​

@goodgodimaweirdperson​

@that-place-called-middle-earth​

@trumpettay​

@zxph-yr​

@belovedcherry​

@matsumama​

@emoryhemsworth​

@buckybarnesplumwhore​

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@princesssterek​

@xoxabs88xox​

@wandering-spiritash​

@riathearora​

@greeneyedblondie44​

@the-loml-got-nailed​

@novawillowbarnesg

[ghostly-cabbage]

Party In The Graveyard (Shiptember 2021 : Drunk)

It’s a day late but heres the Danny x Wes fic I wrote for @ghostgothgeek ‘s Ship Event!! Rating: Teen and Up Warnings: Language, Underage Drinking, Mild Suggestive Themes Additional Tags: Post-Reveal, Aged Up Characters, Mutual Pining, Flirting, Getting Together

Summary: So, here’s the thing; Wes never wanted to have a fucking house party, okay? This was all stupid Kyle’s stupid idea. Kyle isn’t even in highschool anymore. He graduated last year. But he invited his whole college freshmen class, and just about everyone from the senior Casper class. And it's just getting better and better. Why? Because about half an hour ago, Danny Fucking Fenton walked in.

--

Or a fic in which Wes sees Danny getting shitfaced and says, "Is anyone else gonna take care of him, or?" and then doesn't wait for an answer.

Words: 6,233

Ao3

“I take back all my poor words. Talk is cheap, but my mind is rich When I close my eyes You grab my wrist, And pull me in to your cold dead lips”

So, here’s the thing; Wes never wanted to have a fucking house party, okay? 

This was all stupid Kyle’s stupid idea. 

Kyle isn’t even in highschool anymore. He graduated last year. But he invited his whole college freshmen class, and just about everyone from the senior Casper class. 

And it's just getting better and better. 

Why?

Because about half an hour ago, Danny Fucking Fenton walked in. 

He walked in like he owned the goddamn place and the reaction went through everyone like a Whoop—like some kind of synchronized celebration of a miracle. 

What, just ‘cause everyone knows he’s Phantom now? 

Give him a fuckin’ break. 

Currently, Wes is standing adjacent to the fridge, nursing a god-awful drink Kyle shoved into his hands before disappearing back into the throng. 

Lighten up, bro, he’d said. 

Yeah. 

Sure. 

The music pounds through the house—a heart beat—a fucking jack-hammer. 

People talk and yell and spill their drinks on just about every surface that can stain. 

A cheer goes up from the dining room and he rolls his eyes. 

He slams his drink and focuses on the outdated calendar on the side of the fridge to keep from shuddering. It makes his mouth water, burns the whole way down and Jesus, seriously, what the fuck did Kyle put in this? 

He throws his cup at the overflowing trash can. 

His cheeks feel warm, but not even a buzz touches the wound up feeling in his chest. 

He passes through the dining room, stops to watch Danny and Dash shotgunning sixteen ounce Mike’s Harder cans. From the looks of the table, they've already gone a few rounds.

Danny finishes five whole seconds before Dash. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and crushes his can. 

“Slowing down already, Baxter?” he says, a smug grin plastered across his face. His shoulders are slumped and he talks just a bit too loud.

Dash finishes his and tosses it over his shoulder, which—cool. Fucking nice, what, does he think they have a fucking maid? 

“In your dreams, Fenton. We're just getting warmed up. No way I'm getting out-drank by a twig like you, half-ghost or not.” 

“Guess we’ll see.” Danny shrugs. He talks like he’s one of those people, has always been one of those people. 

Wes rolls his eyes and is just about to slip out of the room when— 

“Ohhh shit! If it isn’t the one and only Wesley Weston!” 

Fucking hell. 

He turns and levels as unimpressed of a look as he can manage at Danny. 

“Imagine that. It’s almost like I fucking live here.” 

Danny swipes up a plastic cup and then proceeds to walk through the table towards him. People act like they’re finding out all over again. 

“Oh come on, Wes. You’re not still mad are you?” He comes up to him and slouches against the archway’s frame. 

Wes scrapes his tongue along his teeth. “Mad? What could I possibly be mad about?”

Danny looks at him like a puzzle. 

When he talks his voice is quiet, hard to hear over the music. “I dunno, the fact that you knew all along but no one ever listened? They thought you were crazy and you weren’t but no one's even said sorry?” His lips quirk up at the corner and Wes can smell the artificial black cherry dancing on the top of the alcohol in his breath. 

He wrinkles his nose and it has nothing to do with the smell. 

“I was being facetious, prick.” 

Danny smiles bigger, and his eyes glitter, something doe-eyed.  

“Right. So you are still mad?” 

He pushes air through his teeth. 

“Not like it matters,” he says, looking away from Danny, drifting over the room. “Where’s your chaperones? Weird to see you anywhere alone.” 

Danny just stares at him for a few seconds before understanding sparks. 

“Ah. Sam’s got a family thing. Tuck took a closing shift.” He waves a hand and his head lolls against the wall with a thunk. He lifts the cup to his lips and takes a swig. 

Everything about him looks heavy. It’s weird for Danny.  

“Have you tried the jungle juice your brother made?” he says. “It sucks. You’ve gotta try it.” 

Wes lifts a brow and crosses his arms over his chest. 

“How many’ve you had?” 

Danny looks down into his cup, swirls its contents. It’s silent for several seconds too long. 

“I’m not really sure, honestly. Didn’t know I was supposed to keep count.” 

Wes slides a hand down his face. 

Jesus Christ. 

“Listen, maybe you should slow down—”

“Yo! Fenton! Stop flirting with Wes and fucking get over here, we’re not done.” Dash calls across the room and— 

Flirting?! 

They weren’t fucking flirting. 

What the fuck.

Wes’s face heats up far beyond the liquor in his veins. 

Danny looks up and flashes Dash a thumbs up. And then Danny is even closer—grabbing his arm. The chill of his hand goes right through to his stomach. 

“Hey,” he breathes, “come watch me outdrink Dash.”

“Why would I wanna do that?” He ignores the way his breath flutters in his lungs, the way he feels light all the way to his toes.

Danny smiles like what he’s about to say is a secret—like it’s just for him, and all of a sudden Wes wants to be as far from Danny as humanly possible.

“Isn’t watching Dash lose at something for once reason enough?” 

Wes forces himself to keep breathing and he swallows. 

“Fine,” is all he can force out and then Danny is dragging him towards the table. He ignores all the people looking at them. 

The fragmented group of A-listers cheer again and Dash slams a bottle of Fireball onto the table, making people's drinks jump and slosh. 

“Let’s kick it up a notch, shall we?” he says, grin just shy of evil. 

“Where’d you get that?” Wes asks. 

Dash cocks a brow. “Paulina found it? Duh.” 

God, Kyle really wasn’t joking about getting people fucked up. 

Wes is not going to clean up anyone’s puke this time. This shit is all on Kyle. 

“Dude, is it even cold?” Danny asks. 

“No, it wasn’t in the freezer long enough,” Paulina says. She’s drinking from a champagne flute for some fucking reason. He didn’t even know they had those. 

“Gimme that,” Danny says, swiping it from Dash. “No way in hell I’m drinking warm whiskey.” 

His eyes glow blue, and when he breathes out its a thin vapor. Frost creeps over the glass and Wes can’t help but shiver.

“Dude, fucking wicked. I’m still not over this,” Dash breathes, clapping his hands together. 

How could Wes forget that Dash is Phantom’s number one fanboy after all?

But Danny isn’t looking at Dash—he’s looking at him. 

Only it’s different this time. Because before it was always a taunt, blatantly rubbing it in Wes’ face when he used his powers and no one else noticed.

But the way Danny is looking at him now… like he’s waiting for something, thinking about something.

Danny hands back the Fireball and his eyes slip away from Wes and he feels like a fish wrenched from water. 

What the hell was that? 

“Fuck yeah, Fenton.” Dash unscrews the whiskey, flicks the cap off the mouth with a finger, sending it flying. He pours directly into their cups, the liquid glugging through the frosted neck of the bottle.

“Two shots of vodka,” someone says and everyone laughs.

“No chasers?” Danny asks, eyeing his cup. 

Dash puts down the Fireball. “What’s the matter, you scared of the burn?” 

“Not a chance,” he says, and holds out his cup to Dash. They cheers each other and then they’re throwing it back. 

It sinks in his stomach like a rock. There’s no way this ends well. 

.

It’s on the sixth round of Fireball that Dash starts to look green. He sets down his cup and leans on the table. He stares at the clear storage container of jungle juice and Kwan comes up beside him, pats his arm. 

“Dude, maybe you should call it.” 

“I’m fine, ‘s fine…” His words slur together. He tries to stand up straight and Kwan and Paulina both have to keep him up right. 

Danny laughs. “Not lookin’ great, Baxter,” he says, his own words falling sluggishly from his mouth. Danny goes to lift his cup to his lips again and Wes puts his hand over it. 

“Nope. You two are done.” 

“Come on, Wes. Don’t be a buzzkill. I’m good!” Danny says. “Dash is the one that lost!” He flings his hand towards Dash and knocks the Fireball over, spilling it all over the table.

The group all crows at once, a choir of “oh shit” “nice one” and “duuuude noooo”’s. A few people rush to grab their phones from harm's way.

Danny blinks at the table. “Oops,” he says. 

A smile splits his face and he starts chuckling. It builds from him, a laugh, something outside of him—beyond him. 

He laughs until he’s doubled over, holding onto Wes to keep himself stable. 

“Yeah, that’s it. You’ve had more than enough.” He grabs Danny’s cup from him before he can spill that too and drinks it himself. The cinnamon burns through his sinuses and he shudders. Ugh. 

Danny straightens and sways just a bit, stumbling into him—their faces inches apart.

“Hey, that was mine,” he says, voice twisted in a pout. “Not cool.” His breath is cold, thick with the smell of whiskey. 

Wes feels frozen, feels like he can’t breathe. 

His heart pounds in his chest and he prays Danny isn’t so close he can feel it. 

Around them the choir starts again, a chorus of suggestive “ooo”’s. He can feel their eyes on him and it makes his skin crawl. 

Fucking dammit, this is all Fenton’s fault. 

He pushes Danny away from him. Not fast or rough, just to arms length. He coughs. 

“Star, you should go to the kitchen and get them both some water,” he says. 

She gives him an annoyed look. 

“I don’t see you doing anything else,” he snaps. 

“I’m drunk too, you know,” she says, but gets up and leaves towards the kitchen. 

Paulina and Kwan coax Dash into a chair, and he puts his head down on the table, groaning. A few others are sopping up the Fireball with paper towels. 

Danny sags in his grip, goofy smile still plastered all over his face. 

“I’ve never been drunk before, this is awesome,” he says. 

Wes rolls his eyes, and maneuvers Danny into a chair. His head lolls back and he stares at the ceiling for a second before perking back up and trying to go for someone else's cup. 

“Dude, I’m serious.” Wes moves the cup out of his reach. “Quit while you’re ahead.” 

Danny groans, sinking down in his chair like he’s boneless. 

“Come on, Wes,” he says. “You think I don’t know my own limits?” 

“You just said this is your first time being drunk.” 

Danny blows a raspberry. 

Star walks back into the room and hands Wes a glass of water and then slides one across the table at Dash. 

“Here. Wanna drink? Drink this.” 

“Ugh, fine,” he says. 

He’s a few swigs into it when he stops. 

“God, it’s hot in here. Is anyone else hot?” And before anyone can answer his eyes glow that bright blue and a chill works through the air, plummets the temperature. 

“Danny—” Goosebumps rise over Wes’ skin and his breath fogs from his mouth. 

At varying levels of exasperation, the people around cry out. 

“Dude, cut that out,” he says, smacking Danny’s arm. 

“Ow, why are you hitting me?” 

“Because you’re being a pain in the ass.” 

Danny looks at him, blinks heavy eyelids. He smiles. 

“What.” 

“Nothing, you just… You’re cute when you’re all annoyed sometimes.” 

The ground feels like it opens up underneath him. 

His thoughts screech to a stop. It smells like burnt rubber, like cinnamon and black cherry. 

It’s just the alcohol. No fucking way Danny of all people would say that to him. 

“You really are drunk,” he says, but his voice sounds off kilter. 

Across the house the last song fades out and Usher’s Yeah comes on. People scream and cheer. 

“Holy shit, I love this song,” Danny says and stands up. He sways and catches himself on the edge of the table, starts laughing again. “Whew, that was close. The spinning is normal, right?” 

Fucking Christ, how did he end up on babysitting duty again? He rubs his temples. 

Is he really about to do this? 

“You should lay down.” He heaves a sigh. “Come on.” 

“Jeez, Wes, that's pretty forward,” Danny says, wiggling his eyebrows. 

Heat flashes through him. 

“Would you just shut up,” he hisses. “And stop making it cold. Jesus.” 

Danny snorts and when he moves from the table he wobbles. Wes grabs him before he topples and slings Danny’s arm over his shoulder to keep him up. 

Danny leans into him, almost unbalances them.

“You got a problem with the cold, Wes?” he says, this time his cold breath is against the side of his neck. It sends chills down his spine. 

“I don’t have to help you, you know,” he says, voice thick. “You can get alcohol poisoning for all I care.” 

“You’re a bad liar, Wes.” 

Wes yanks Danny along beside him and out of the dining room. 

“Shut up, Danny. You’re drunk.” 

He hauls Danny past the living room and the knot of people dancing and singing. A few call out to them, ask them to come have fun. He steers them away before Danny can pull away and join them. 

“But I wanna have fun, Wes,” he whines. 

“Dude, you can’t even stand without my help right now, you really wanna try dancing?” 

“Dance with me, then.” 

Wes stops. He looks over at Danny and… 

He— 

He blinks, shakes his head.

“No, not—not right now,” he mumbles. 

“There’s a whole reason I came alone, you know,” Danny says. 

“What, so you could get fucked up and no one would stop you?” 

“Yeah! I mean… well, that’s part of it.” 

Wes guides them towards the stairs, ignoring the looks. 

“Your house is bigger than it looks from the outside,” Danny says. 

“Thanks?” 

“Mmhm.”

God. This is so not what he thought tonight was going to be like. 

“Where are we going?” Danny asks. 

“Somewhere you can lay down and sober up.” 

“Tha’s not vague.” 

Wes starts pulling Danny up the staircase. The second floor is dark, and he gropes around to hit the light. 

The first few steps are fine, which is to say the next steps aren’t fine. 

What he’s saying is that Danny says, “oh shit.” 

And then he’s falling—pulling Wes down with him. 

More accurately, Danny trips and pulls Wes down on top of him. 

They end up in a heap and Danny groans like someone does when they fall on the fucking stairs.

“Ow.” He reaches for the back of his head. Then he’s laughing, like it's the funniest goddamn thing in the world, what just happened. His face screws up, the face of someone who doesn’t know he’s in pain, just pretending.

“Seriously?” Wes snaps. His shin smarts—must have hit it on the stairs. 

“Sorry, sorry.” He laughs each syllable. “You good?” 

“No, I’m not—” And he looks down and he realizes how close they are. Realizes the way Danny’s hair falls into his face, the light catching the slope of his jaw. 

Danny quiets at the same time and it’s like they get stuck there. Like nothing else exists other than this staircase and this moment and the way Danny feels cool and solid like a summer night underneath him. 

“Hey,” Danny says—sounds almost breathless. “Come here often?” 

Wes rolls his eyes and just like that the moment is over. 

“Ugh.” He pushes himself up, detangles himself from Danny. 

Danny reaches for him, that stupid smile back on his face.

“Oh come on, Wes,” he says. 

“Quit messing around, dude.” 

Danny pushes himself up, runs a hand through his hair and Wes tracks the motion with his eyes against his best wishes. 

“You’re so mean. I could have a concussion and this is how you treat me?” 

Wes stands up and straightens his clothes. “You’re fine.” 

Danny gives him a look and then something sparks in his eyes. “I’m going to text Sam and Tucker and tell them how mean you are to me.” 

Psh. He says that like they don’t already hate him. 

“Would you just get up?” 

“These stairs are actually kinda comfy,” he says, head rolling back, sinking back down and closing his eyes. “I think I’ll just stay here.” 

Wes kicks his leg. 

“You can lay down in the room. Get up.” 

Danny heaves a sigh, throws an arm over his eyes. 

“Fiiinnneee.” He pulls himself up by the handrail, stops in a sitting position. “Jesus,” he says, voice just above a whisper. His breathing gets weird. It makes Wes pause. 

“You okay?” 

“...Spinning,” Danny breathes. He’s quiet for a bit, and Wes just lets him sit there. Danny holds his head in his hands for a while.  

Worry creeps into the back of his mind. Maybe Danny wasn’t kidding about the concussion thing. Maybe he should get someone— 

Then Danny is standing up and Wes steadys his other arm. 

“I got you,” he says. “Feeling okay?” 

Danny sends him a weak smile. “Yeah. Laying down does sound good though," he mumbles.  

They make it up the rest of the stairs, and Danny leans against the wall as Wes opens the door to his room. 

It’s dark and quiet inside and he flips on the light. 

He helps Danny in, and he flops face first onto his bed. He groans and rolls over. 

“I’m thinking those last few shots of Fireball were a bad idea…” 

Wes snorts and closes the door softly behind him. 

“Oh, just the last few, huh?” 

“I was havin’ fun, smartass,” Danny grumbles. 

Wes leans back against his dresser and crosses his arms. “I said you should have stopped but noooo, no one listens to Wes.” 

It gets quiet and he can feel the heaviness in the air. He clears his throat. “If you throw up in my bed, I’m kicking you out the window.” 

“I’m not going to throw up.” 

“Famous last words, Fenton.” 

“Shaddup,” Danny says, and it gets quiet. 

Wes can feel the bass from the music through the floor, the muffled sound of singing, laughing, talking. He’s used to ducking out at parties early. He’s used to laying in bed and listening to the songs through the walls until the voices slowly fade and the house is empty again. He listens to Kyle stumble up to bed and knock into the walls and yell “I’m okay” when he does.

He’s not used to having… company. 

Danny sits up like a puppet on too few strings. He makes a frustrated noise.

“It’s still hot,” he sighs. 

“It’s the alcohol, dude.” 

Danny runs his hands over his face, and then reaches back and starts pulling his hoodie off. It drags his shirt up with it and Wes can’t help but look. He looks at the multitude of scars staining Danny’s skin and the way his muscles move over his ribs and—he pulls his gaze away and studies the floor instead. 

“This is your bedroom, huh?” 

“Yep.” 

“Doesn’t look how I thought it would.” 

Wes wrinkles his nose. “How'd you think it would look?”

Danny takes his time looking around the room, hoodie pooled in his lap, before he looks at Wes and gives a boneless shrug. 

“I dunno. More,” he holds his hands up, splays his fingers, “raah!” 

“I… don’t know what that means.” 

“You know! Like… newspaper-clipping red-web on all the walls,” Danny says, smile creeping back. 

Wes squints at Danny. He pushes off his dresser. 

“That’s still all you think of me?” He picks a pillow from his bed and throws it at Danny’s face. Danny lets out a yelp. 

“Besides, I took all that shit down when the truth came out anyway,” he says, trying and failing to keep the inkling of a smile from his voice. 

Danny looks at him blankly for a second before he starts to smile again. 

“Wait, was that… Did you just make a joke?” 

Wes snorts. 

“You did! Holy shit, Wes has a sense of humor, this is bigger news than my shit. I gotta tell everyone.” 

Danny looks soft, sitting like this in the middle of his bed, eyes warm in a way Wes didn’t realize they could be. 

Something in him loosens. 

“Good luck getting people to believe you…” he says. 

“Oh, how the turn tables,” Danny says, and for a bit all they do is smile at each other. 

Danny looks away first, he glances up at the light and squints. 

“You got a light that isn’t so fuckin’ bright?” 

“I thought the light sensitivity was supposed to happen the morning after drinking.” 

“You’re full of jokes tonight.” 

Wes rolls his eyes and flips on the bedside lamp and then shuts off the overhead light. 

Danny hums and flops back down. “Better,” he says.

It’s silent for a few beats and Danny lifts his head to look at him. He smacks the comforter a few times with a flat hand. 

Wes blanches; he’s all too aware of himself, of Danny and the dim light and the closed door. 

“Dude, chill,” Danny says, like he can read his mind—wait, he can’t actually do that, right? Ghosts can’t do that? 

“Sit down or something. You just standing there watching me is creepy,” Danny says. 

Wes swallows his own heartbeat, shakes his head. “Seriously, between the two of us, I’m not the creepy one.” 

“Says the stalker.” 

“I didn’t stalk you.” 

Danny gives him a look, with raised eyebrows and everything. 

Wes sits on the side of the bed, scoots back so he’s leaned against the headboard. 

“I was… investigating.” 

Danny laughs. “Sure, dude. Whatever you say,” and his voice is like smoke—hickory and rough but winding through the air like silk.  

They fall into an amiable silence, cotton soft, but cold. Danny has an arm over his eyes again, and his breathing is so slow it’s hard to pick out from the music downstairs. 

He rakes a hand through his hair and takes out his phone. He unlocks it and scrolls mindlessly for a while. 

He can’t focus. 

Not with Danny so close like this. Not when everything is different now. His mind drifts off and he tries to keep track of every breath, wonders if he’s fallen asleep— 

“Hey, Wes.” 

He jumps. Just a little bit. 

“Y-yeah?” 

“I’m sorry.” 

He puts his phone down. 

“...For what?”

“For making everyone think you were crazy.” 

Wes twists his hand in his comforter. Why the hell is Danny apologizing to him? After everything he’s done to him… tried to do to him. It gets stuck in his throat. 

“It’s… You don’t have to—” he wishes he’d had a few more drinks. 

“Nah. I do. Looking back, I didn’t handle you knowing very well.” 

He chews on his lip. He’s never felt so out of place. 

“Danny…” 

Danny moves his arm and looks up at him and his courage almost shrivels. 

“I’m the one who should apologize. Not you. I—” He balls his hands into fists. “What I did, trying to basically out you, that wasn’t… that wasn’t okay.” 

“You didn’t know the whole situation.” 

“Did I need to? It was still fucked up and. I’m sorry. I was so wrapped up in wanting to be right that I didn’t care what it could have done to you.” 

It feels like glass coming up from his throat. 

He’s lost sleep, engraved in the ceiling all the ways he fucked up, all the times he's glad now that no one listened to him. His eyes feel hot and there’s no way in hell he’s going to fucking get emotional in front of Danny. 

“It all worked out in the end,” Danny says. He says it easy, gentle. “You were still technically right, though, so… There’s that.” 

Wes huffs. “Yeah. I guess.” He fights through all the mess. “I don’t know how this didn’t happen sooner though. You were terrible at hiding it.” 

Danny props himself up on his elbows. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, dude, I'm a great liar.” 

Wes leans his head back on the headboard. “Sure, but you’re reckless as hell. How many times did you stick your arm through your locker in front of God and everyone?” 

Danny smiles wide and bright. 

“Honestly, after a while, it was just fun to see how far I could go before anyone noticed.” 

Wes can’t help but chuckle. “Pretty far, obviously.”  

“No kidding.” 

Wes runs his palms over his jeans. 

“You’re good though, right?” Wes looks anywhere but Danny. “At home and all that.” 

“Oh. Yeah. It was, uhm, a lot for my parents. But we’re getting there.” 

“Good… That’s good.” The words feel sharp and blocky, and he doesn’t know what else to say. What else can he say? 

His buzz pulls away from him, pulls him down, makes his lids heavy. 

“How do you think Dash is doing?” Danny says. 

“Pf. If he isn’t hugging a trashcan right now, I’ll be shocked.” 

Danny laughs. 

Wes leans over onto some of his pillows. 

“How are you this okay after drinking all that?” 

Danny shrugs. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m feeling it. My guess is something to do with the healing factor ghost shit.” 

“Right, makes sense.” 

He feels tired and heavy and the darkness at the corners of the room get fuzzier. 

“Paulina brought her own champagne glass,” Danny tells him. And he laughs because, who does that? 

He rolls onto his back and they stare at the ceiling.

“Are you kidding? Paulina does that, it’s Paulina,” Danny says. 

They stare at the ceiling like it’s not a ceiling, like it might become more than just ceiling. Wes imagines it disappearing completely.

Danny likes stars, doesn’t he? 

When Danny talks again it’s like he’s far away. An arms length, an atmosphere’s length… he doesn’t know. 

Danny says, “sucks that I’m missing the Super Smash Tournament.” 

Wes tries to keep his eyes from slipping shut. The bed pulls him like quicksand, the smell of sleep. “Trust me, dude, Kyle always wins anyway.” 

Danny says something, something about who he mains or doesn’t main. It becomes all the same, the sluggish rise and fall. 

At some point between light and dark Wes decides that he likes the sound of Danny’s voice. He somehow likes that the room is colder than it usually is. 

And maybe somewhere between all that he decides some other stuff too. 

— 

Wes wakes up before Danny. The sun streams in through a gap in his curtains, pooling on the wall and floor.

He doesn’t have a headache, but his neck hurts like hell. 

Danny is lying on his side faced away from him and, fuck, thank God. He thinks about last night, about Danny in his arms and he— 

He sits up and rubs his hands over his warm cheeks. 

Water. He should get some water. 

He slips out of his room and goes downstairs to the kitchen. The house is quiet. 

Well. 

Mostly. 

He can hear the sink running and the clink of glass. When he comes around the corner he sees Kyle washing dishes. The house is only half as trashed as he thought it’d be. 

Kyle looks up at him as he walks in. 

“Morning.” 

He grunts, going to pluck a clean glass from the drying rack. 

“Hangover?” 

“Nah. Slept wrong.” He fills his glass at the fridge and downs it all at once. The water helps wash the sour taste from his mouth. Ugh, he should still brush his teeth. 

He fills the glass again and heads back upstairs. He pushes back into his room and when the door creaks he sees Danny jump. 

He walks around the bed and offers the glass to a squinting Danny. 

“Awake?” he asks. 

Danny groans and pushes himself up. His hair is messy, hanging in his eyes. It's infuriating. 

He rubs the side of his face and when he takes the cup their fingers brush. 

“Thanks,” he murmurs. 

“We have pop-tarts and cereal and shit downstairs.” 

Danny gives him a thumbs up while he drinks. 

He wants to ask if he’s okay... He decides to leave it for later. 

Wes leaves his room and goes back to the kitchen. When he gets there, he pulls the pop-tarts down from the cabinet. 

“So, here’s what I’m thinking,” Kyle says, “if you wanna clean the dining room, I’ll clean the living room.” 

“Nope, no. This was your thing, dude. You threw the party.” 

“But Wes,” he whines, “Dad’s gonna be home tonight.” 

“Then you should probably get started,” he says and claps him on the shoulder on his way to the toaster.

“Dude, cold blooded. You’re just gonna watch me slave away for hours and not even help your own brother?” 

“Uh... yeah.” He slots the pop-tarts into the toaster. He turns towards Kyle and leans against the counter, grinning at him. 

Kyle gives him a look. 

“How much.” 

“No. No, I’m not gonna be bought this time.” 

“Twenty bucks.” 

“Kyle.”

“Fine, you drive a hard bargain. Forty.” 

“Jesus Christ.” 

“‘This time?’ What happened last time?” 

They jump and look at Danny as he comes down the stairs. He has his hoodie slung over a shoulder and the half empty water glass in his hand. 

“Holy shit,” Kyle says. 

“It’s not important,” he says, sending a glare at the back of Kyle’s head. 

Danny walks up to the counter and sets the glass down to pull his hoodie on. 

“No fucking way,” Kyle says, voice pitched up. “I didn’t believe it when everyone was talking about it last night, holy shit.” 

Danny tugs the hem of his hoodie down and gives Kyle a confused look that he moves over to Wes.

He returns the look, just as lost.

“Dude, what the hell are you talking about?” 

“You two hooking up last night,” Kyle says, like it’s obvious.

It feels like for a second time stops—  

Hooking up?

Hooking up?! 

His heart skips in his chest and heat rushes to his face and the tips of his ears. He feels like he’s been slapped across the face.

Danny looks like a deer in the headlights. 

“Uh—” 

The toaster pops. 

“Which, can I just say, I totally called it. I knew there had to be another reason Wes was so obsessed with yo—” 

“Kyle!” he snaps, his voice higher than he anticipated. “Kyle, oh my fucking god, shut up. We didn’t— Nothing happened last night, we just—”  

His breath feels tight in his throat and he wants to lock himself in his room forever. He can’t make himself look at Danny. 

“Who the hell told you that-that we—” 

“Uh, dude, a bunch of people saw you guys go into your room together. You know Pualina was telling me that Danny was all over yo—”

“Okay! Thank you, Kyle!” he cuts in. “Jesus fucking—” He buries his face in his hands. 

This is it, this is how he’s going to die. 

“I’m just glad for you two! I mean, like, jeez, finally!” 

“Kyle, I’ll help you clean if you shut up right now and never bring this up ever again.” 

Kyle stops, face lighting up. “Dude, deal.” 

“Cool. Now please leave.” 

“What?” 

Wes grabs him by the arm and starts dragging him out of the kitchen. “Leave. Go get the cleaning shit from the garage or some shit, I don’t know.” 

“Oh. Ohhhh, I see. I get you. I’ll leave you two kids alone to enjoy your breakfast together,” he says with a wink and holy fuck, he’s going to kill his fucking brother.

Kyle heads for the stairs and calls down, “Lemme know when it’s safe to come back down!” 

Wes drags his hands down his face. He lets out a slow breath and he tries to ignore his pounding heart. 

Wes goes to the nearest counter and puts his head down. The surface is cold against his burning skin. He groans like an injured animal and at this point he really wishes someone would put him out of his misery. 

“Well…” Danny says from behind him.

 He hears Danny moving and the sound of the fridge being opened. He looks up, watches as Danny takes orange juice from the fridge. When he turns around he sees his face is red too. 

“I mean… hardly the worst rumor to get spread around about us,” he says. That stupid smile makes its way onto Danny’s face. 

“I once had this dude tell everyone at school that I was a ghost. It was super weird.” 

Wes shakes his head. “Dude, shut up.” But he can’t help the grin that pulls at his lips. 

Danny laughs, a quieter thing today than it was last night. 

“I can have some, right?” he asks, lifting the OJ. 

“Yeah, it’s fine.” 

They fall into silence while Danny pours a glass and Wes goes to numbly retrieve his pop-tarts. 

“It’s probably spread through all of Casper now, huh.” 

Danny glances at him. Something dances through his expression. He hums as he takes a drink of his juice. 

“Uh. Probably further than that, now that everyone knows I'm… you know.” Danny shoots him an uneasy look.

Right. Right. 

This was just getting better and better. 

He takes a bite of his pop-tart. It crumbles in his mouth like sand. 

“Are you… okay?” Danny asks. He reaches back and rubs his neck, and dammit, now he’s just adding insult to injury. 

He looks at him, and he sees the nerves in the way he holds himself, stitched into the way the light hits him. He’s not asking just one question.

Wes swallows. 

“Yeah… Yeah, I mean, like you said. There could be way worse rumors,” he says. He looks at Danny like he’s too far away, like he enjoyed last night way more than he should have. And he sees it in Danny too, some sort of mirror. 

“I think so too,” Danny says, heavy the way he exhales it. 

They break eye contact and Wes doesn’t really know what to do, what to say. 

“Well, uh. You have cleaning to do, I guess. I should probably get home before my parents get too freaked out.” 

Wes nods. “Yeah, probably.” He wonders if Danny knows what’s in his voice. The dark from last night is clouding his mind, pulling him, begging him to just say it.   

“Yeah… I’ll, uh, see you at school?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Cool.” 

But Danny doesn't move. 

He lingers like a shadow. He looks like he wants to go. He looks like he wants to stay. 

“Wes,” he says. 

Wes looks at him.  

He worries at his bottom lip and moves along the counter towards him. 

“Thanks. For last night.” 

He lets out a puff. “Well, someone had to make sure you didn’t die the rest of the way from alcohol poisoning.” 

Danny rolls his eyes. 

“I wasn’t that bad.” 

“You were pretty bad.” 

“Not even.” Danny smiles.

And they’re close again, sharing each other's space. 

“It wasn’t… awful, I guess,” he says before he can stop himself. “Even with you being a pain in the ass the entire time.” 

“Maybe we could do it again sometime,” Danny murmurs.

“What, me looking after your drunk ass the whole night?” 

Danny snorts. “No, I was thinking more like I match you drink for drink instead,” he says. 

“At least then you’d last till the Smash tournament.” 

Danny glances away. 

“I didn’t mind missing it too much, actually.” 

Wes’s breath gets stuck and his heart beats like a drum in his ribcage. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah…” 

In some ways it’s just like last night; Danny’s close enough he can feel the movement of his breath between them. 

“It’s way more fun, bothering you.” 

It’s a slow motion sort of thing, a hair raising thing. 

“Well you’re an expert at it by now.” 

Wes thinks about theme parks. Sitting at the top of the sky and just before his stomach drops—

“Always room for improvement. I could get better at it if you want me to.” 

And what if he does? What if he wants to see Danny in all the ways he can? What if he wants to know Danny for real this time?  

Maybe he wants pictures, proof that it’s real. 

Maybe it’s always been leading to this. 

Maybe it’s fucked up. 

Wes having the power to hurt him all over again. 

“Drink for drink?” he says, barely a whisper. 

“Drink for drink,” Danny says—closer, closer, breath against his lips. 

Danny gives him time to pull away. But Wes doesn’t. Something to do with what he decided last night.  

“Prove it.”

[mandareeboo]

SU Music Rankings

Bc I can and I wanna start some Disk Horse rip. These are all in order of preference, with explanations, etc. It’s a long bitch. That said, I’m not counting little short jingles or small joke songs like Little Butler. This is the meat and potatoes of SU music- just under 30 songs. I might do the rest if people like my takes lol.

I scored it mostly on three bases- how dear it was to my heart, how much/often I relisten to it, and also what it means to the plot. That said, little fun songs don’t automatically go farther down than big, plot-heavy songs either! It’s a strange little balance.

Special Note: I don’t dislike any of this music! I love SU and that includes its bumps and glitches. I just pick favorite children lol.

1.) Change

Was there ever a more Steven moment than when he wiped the blood off his face and kissed it into sparkles? I think not. 

If “Be Wherever You Are” is an ode to young Steven, then this is teen Steven’s. Talking about change, and how much and how little it can do. How he holds his arms up for Spinel to hug him, so trusting. How he seems able to just. Break into soft tears at will, and not to be manipulative- it’s just his kind nature. The warmth in his voice. Fuck yesssss.

2.) Change Your Mind

This song is only fifty five seconds and it’s EVERYTHING to me. It really felt like someone was speaking the words I’d always held deep inside of me, unsure of how to say. It feels like a goodbye to someone who never really loved me. 

As much as I enjoyed Future, if this was the finale of SU, I would’ve been perfectly okay with that.

3.) Drift Away

This song gave me legitimate shivers the first time I heard it, and it still haunts me to this day. Spinel stayed, and waited, and all she got was a transmission thousands of years later. Fuck.

4.) Here We Are In The Future

THE MOVIE IS SU AS ITS BEST AND I WON’T BE SWAYED ON IT. Steven being a teen who loves his weird family but is growing just a bit sarcastic to their drama. The adorable love he and Connie share. His slow realization that he will always be working, always have things to do, is both somber and real. The Crystal Gems won’t be safe with one epic battle. They’ll be safe with years of hard work and love. HIS LITTLE HANDSHAKE WITH AMETHYST.

This is a helluva bop and a great way to summarize the main character’s backstories.

5.) Let’s Only Think About Love

Did ya’ll know that Zach Callison killed his throat with that last note? He gave his all for this performance in a vocal range he no longer comfortably do and by god did it SHINE. The FLAIR. The FORESHADOWING. All of the Gems all being awkward about Rose and Steven trying to bring them to the present. Peridot having a mini-existential crisis in a cute yellow dress. I love Zach Callison’s normal singing voice but man is that a fucking bop. Nothing will ever beat it.

6.) Here Comes A Thought

This bad boy helped me out a LOT with some mental issues I was dealing with in high school. I was unmedicated, unsupervised, and full of anxiety. I’d have break downs when I tried to speak about certain things. I couldn’t function. This song inspired me. It helped me feel okay with my intrusive thoughts.

And the episode! -chef’s kiss-. Once again bringing up the morally gray area of training child soldiers. Connie expanding her social group. Steven’s trauma hauling ass in that second half. The ANIMATION. Stevonnie’s gorgeous singing voice. GOD yes.

7.) It’s Over Isn’t It?

Just barely squeaking above Stronger Than You, this ballad is everything gorgeous. The whole episode is. I think Mr. Greg stands in the top five of my episodes for the entire show. It even got nominated!

There’s just so much about this song that I love. The gentle melancholy of Pearl’s voice. How the crew had to redo the shots for this bit bc Deedee went so fucking hard. The hard cuts between Pearl, remembering the love of her life, and Steven, who has begun to feel like he took her away. I’d recommend this song to anyone, regardless of what they do or don’t know about SU, simply bc it tugs so many heartstrings of love, loss, and responsibility.

8.) Stronger Than You

Did you realize this episode aired SEVEN years ago? This bitch was what got me into SU! Hearing about Ruby and Sapphire made my little gay heart so happy inside, and then getting a whole song confirming that they were a couple, that their love powered the strongest Gem on the team? Aaaaaaaaa

To this DAY I get excited when I hear Estelle start singing. This song is timeless. This song will live in media history. God I fucking love this song.

9.) Other Friends

I’m not the biggest musical person, so I hadn’t heard of Sarah Stiles before her casting as Spinel, but JESUS CHRIST the lady went hard. She went SO fucking hard. Sarah Stiles started on 100 and somehow just kept CLIMBING. You can just hear the sheer manic energy building in her voice, the anger and resentment. 10/10 Sarah Stiles is a queen.

10.) Independent Together

This made the list entirely bc the crew was like “you’re gonna get a himbo ass Steven-Greg fusion singing with Opal while Garnet flies across the moon on Lion while floating” and I am forever thankful to them for it

11.) Who We Are

Bismuth deserved more songs. ‘Nuff said.

12.) Peace and Love (On the Planet Earth)

It Could’ve been Great is EASILY one of my favorite s2 episodes. I love the entire concept of this song. Of Steven making music to reflect how much Earth means to him and his family. Of him teaching Peridot some self-care. Also Peridot’s singing voice is really cute and squeaky. 

I know it’s silly, but I would’ve really enjoyed a flip around of this in Future! Like Peridot reminding Steven how much he loves music, that he needs to take time to relax for himself, maybe with a new verse or just a remix of the original song!

13.) Something Entirely New

I watched this episode as it aired, and I legitimately almost cried. I love Charlyne Yi’s voice so much ya’ll- her raspy, not perfect singing voice against Sapphire’s deep soothing lull is great.

And to have Ruby and Sapphire’s meeting be the way it was- for Ruby to bemoan Sapphire losing Homeworld, to being stuck with a single Ruby, while Sapphire is a noble who has always been taught everyone in her “caste” is vitally important (and has, in her own mind, taken that to mean every Gem, as she should) and how they come together and make each other happy. Good shit good shit.

14.) I’m Just a Comet

The fact that Greg’s music career never really blasted off pisses me off to this day bc Tom Scharpling’s voice is fucking BUTTER. Also the song really feels like a jab at his parents now that we know the kind of dynamic he had growing up. “This life in the stars if all I’ve ever known” is definitely him wiping away their existence after reminding them (and himself) the things they used to say about him.

15.) Do It For Her

This episode. This fucking episode. This episode got me permanently hooked on SU. I’d just binged season 1 and was kinda meh about it overall after the bop of Stronger Than You. “Oh,” I thought to myself, foolishly, “I’ll probably just casually watch this from time to time.”

Like three days later Sworn to the Sword aired and that was it. I was hooked! Pearl’s gentle training song turning darker and darker, Connie’s accompaniment from nervous to determined to fully into such a toxic mindset. The fact that SU had the BALLS to discuss the repercussions of training child soldiers, now and later. This episode was everything to me, STILL is everything to me.

Six years and well over 100 fanfics written later, I think it’s safe to say this show swallowed me whole and never let go.

16.) System/Boot.pearl_final(3)

I debated putting this on the list because it’s not anything crazy important, just a way to show things are Wrong, but I had to do it entirely bc Pearl is so damn SALTY.

Like telling us about the Gems makes sense, she felt like she was given a duty, but she went so damn petty. WHY is that Ruby alone. Gross. This Amethyst is a trash dump. Wtf are you people.

17.) Full Disclosure

This episode really feels like a turning point for SU. Before, the show had its dark moments- but now we’re in the thick of it, and it’s not going away. Full Disclosure felt like an rebuff to the idea of returning to any normal we’d established in season 1. Gems are actually a giant species now. Gems tried to kill us now. There’s this Yellow Diamond bitch who got namedropped. Something about a Cluster. 

The song itself is BALLER, with its ingenious use of Steven’s ringtone and photos as he tries to decide whether to clue in Connie on all this nonsense. Meanwhile we, the audience, already know damn well Connie about to yeet some common sense into him.

18.) What’s the Use of Feeling Blue?

I’mma admit it- I’m a Yellow Diamond stan. I’ve always loved her- her anger, her poise, her hardworking nature. I actively argued against the “Yellow Shattered Pink” theories back in the day. But, man, when this arc leaked? I got so overexcited I was too jittery to watch it for like two days. It’s easily my favorite arc of the series. The sheer alien nature of the zoo, the Famethyst, and absolutely Patti Lupone’s beautiful ballad. Goddamn. Yellow singing to Blue to try and help her regain her old status, the warble in her voice as she reminds Blue she misses Pink too, the movement of the bubbles as she talks about attack. It gives me shivers to this day. FUCK.

19.) Tower of Mistakes

This is, fun fact, that only SU song I have completely memorized. The story itself is kinda funny! See, we lost internet at my house for a solid 5 to 6 months when these episodes aired, so I only got a very brief window to view them all. But this was the first Amethyst song in a long while, and I didn’t want to forget it! So I keep replaying it in my head for ages. And that’s still definitely a thing.

Anyway will never not be sad that this entire song was about making it up to Garnet for Amethyst’s perceived slights with Sugilite (which was a two-way road), only for Garnet to pressure her into fusion later when pissed and never discuss it again bc Garnet probably never thought twice about it and Amethyst has the emotional openness of a clam that’s just been told its ugly. Helluva way to make someone feel like shit, G. Helluva way to bottle that shit, Ames.

20.) On the Run

I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a million times: Amethyst! Needed! More! Songs! 

The dichotomy between Steven’s play and Amethyst’s honest desire to run away from home is so well-done, especially when you consider a lot of Steven and Amethyst’s actions are playing together. The song is also near and dear to me simply bc it’s my favorite Amethyst episode to exist (well, maybe second to What’s Your Problem, but not by much). Moments like these are all the proof I need that they were right to fuse first.

21.) Be Wherever You Are

This tune really just feels like an ode to who Steven was as a kid. Trapped on an island with no way home, and he’s just happy to be with his friends. The stars are beautiful and not oppressive. Also that one animatic with Lars and the Off Colors playing in the Homeworld Kindergarten to this music was iconic and made this song get stuck in my head for a solid month.

22.) Familiar

I ADORE how the crew use bright neon colors to show how alien Homeworld can be. And Steven recognizing that the Diamonds treat him how the CGs used to, and how prepared he is to “fix” a broken family. It’s a soft, gentle tune about melancholy. Also the Pebbles are beautiful.

23.) Let Me Drive My Van Into Your Heart

Such a cute little love ballad, but every time I listen to it now I just imagine the heart attack Rose must’ve had at the line “And if we look out of place/Well, baby, that's okay/I'll drive us into outer space.” like there’s a Vietnam war flashback if I ever heard one

24.) What Can I Do?

I’m kind of neutral on this one? Rose and Greg both have great voices, but the song itself lacks many lyrics. I think it was definitely a good way to show Rose’s flaws in thinking.

Also, I’m shocked they managed cram that much vaguely sexual innuendo into two minutes, followed by how Not Hetereo that dance between Rose and Pearl was, and not get their asses chewed by it. You go guys.

25.) Cookie Cat

I love a lot of the vibes this song has. The lyrics are so damn prophetic, but they also sound like the kind of weird 90s commercials I grew up on. It’s been like two decades since I saw the Shirley Temple commercial but I’ll be damned if I don’t remember “Animals crackers in my soup! Monkey and rabbits loop-de-loop.”

26.) Giant Woman

I am. NOT the biggest fan of Steven’s original singing voice. I feel bad saying that, since it was just Zach Callison as a kid, but he never jived well with me for some reason. So I wouldn’t listen to this on the fly. 

The song itself is still really good though, with all sorts of fun animation of Amethyst and Pearl being bitchy to each other. It’s a bit sad in hindsight to see tiny Steven trying to get his moms to get along. Ahh, season 1.

27.) Strong in the Real Way

This song has SUCH a strong start. Pearl reflecting on Sugilite’s problems, but the show making sure to show us that Pearl’s lack of enthusiasm towards her also lends itself to jealousy as well as just general malaise. How much she cares about Steven, and wants him to grow up strong. 

And then Steven just kinda. Ruins it? I appreciate his enthusiasm for tryna bulk up but to take what was starting as such a rich, personal song and broadcasting it to random strangers just makes me a bit sad. Almost a bit angry on her behalf?

28.) That Distant Shore

I KNOW this is gonna create some discourse, but I’m just not the biggest Lapis stan. I love her voice. I love the visuals of the song. And I get why she felt afraid and needed to flee.

But Lapis never got to take responsibility for her own actions. And, in the end, the song feels hollow to me- because we all know she’ll never talk to anyone about it, know she’ll burst back in and destroy the barn, and no one will ever question it. I like Lapis a lot, but I feel like her arc never was fully finished. She never got help. She never learned to feel safe.

29.) Dear Old Dad

I’ve yet to meet a single human being who likes this episode tbh. There’s some great discussion about what kind of parent Greg is from it, and what kind of dynamic he has with the Gems that he felt he had to fake an injury to hang out with his son. Honestly the first half was fine and dandy. It’s just that then they Greg just went out of his way to drag Steven away from missions and such. It never jived well with his character before or after.

Also, is it just me, or does Zach himself sound like he hates the song as he sings it? There’s no passion or heart in his voice. It sounds like they told him to read off cue cards and he did. Tom Scharpling’s best attempts didn’t save this one for being a skipper. But the episode, unfortunately, isn’t, so it gets a spot on here.