#feral toaster

[cranberrybogmummy]

the majority of you softlings couldn't defend yourself from a feral Smart Toaster (TM) when the robot uprising happens.

You are gonna get murdered by the feral toaster.

[toaster-boi]

so. V absolutely knows FAR more than she's letting on.

"New body, same horrors, huh CYN?" at 16:45 in the new episode, specifically. for context, when N reboots in EP 1, the startup screen says "ABSOLUTESOLVER: BLOCKED BY ADMINISTRATION CYN" (roughly, but the CYN part is there).

she knows that the DDs weren't just sent to clean up rogue AI. the company found something they regretted finding, likely the mix of gravity manipulation (i think) and self-healing machines, both enabled by AbsoluteSolver and built into DDs.

the markers on Yeva's (now Doll's) bracelet and Nori's (now Uzi's) choker were used to identify the Solver test batch of Workers -> test batch gradually deteriorated due to overheating -> one probably caused the core collapse.

and then there's N's flashback upon finding the Zombie Drones training videos. which, uh. i'll update after i get home tomorrow and do a frame-by-frame analysis.

[theokusgallery]

Can we make stuff based off of the Arsenic AU thing?

PLEASE do. Please please please if you make anything inspired by my stuff I'd love to see it

[lesbiten]

people who counteract the fact that cats are destroying bird populations with "well humans destroy the planet too! 🤓" awesome way to admit you know nothing about literally anything

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Finally Getting Help (prt 8)

Masterpost

The next day was less chaotic but not by much. They had to go through everything they’d taken from the Fenton’s lab, and reluctantly accepted Danny and Jazz’s help with the task because they were familiar with the tech. That was surprisingly needed since all of their gadgets were extremely obtuse and looked like household appliances. It was honestly surprising how good Danny was with all of this stuff, he knew what everything was, how to take it apart and how to put it back together to show the heroes how it worked. 

“They don’t all work for humans. Some have to be fueled with ectoplasm so they need to be constantly refueled. Dad used to wear a backpack full of the stuff ghost busters style but that’s really not practical so this one isn’t very useful to you. I can use it though,” Danny said as he screwed the last part back on the.. Whatever it was. 

“Okay, but why does it look like a blender?” Tim asked, baffled and impressed.

“Oh that’s because that’s what it was built out of,” Danny said with a crooked smile. “We repurposed a lot of household items into tech. Give me a couple toasters and a microwave and I’ll have three specter deflectors ready for you before dinner time.” He said as he pressed his hand against one of the gins and it started glowing intently green.

“Here don’t drop it,” He said tossing it to Batman, who did manage to catch it. “I fueled it with three shots, just in case Vlad shows up or another ghosts threatens you. And actually even with your charms I would feel a lot better if you all had specter deflectors since you’re all involved with me now,” He sighed and rubbed his face. 

“Well… we can get you toasters and a microwave but we can also get you more advanced parts if those will work better,” Bruce told Danny, gingerly holding the odd gun away from himself. It wasn’t a traditional gun so it wasn’t upsetting but he still didn’t like it. 

Danny looked very tempted but he shook his head. “No I’d better do it with what I know, I can get it done faster that way and they work. I’d love to play with some of those more advanced parts though. I’m sure I can come with some fun stuff.” 

Uh oh, Bruce didn’t like that look on Tim’s face, the last thing he needed was more encouragement! But Danny was the child of mad scientists, he would get along perfectly with Tim, Bruce was going to have to keep a close eye on them to make sure they didn’t accidentally make a death ray. 

“You can join me in my lab later,” Tim offered hopefully and Danny glanced up at him with a borderline feral grin. 

“That sounds great, I’m sure you have much better lab safety than my parents. Love engineering, would hate to die a second time.” He said it like a joke, just the way Jason tended to. Jazz laughed, but only to encourage her brother’s coping method, no one else did. 

“Alright, we’ll go to the nearest home appliance store and get you some toasters and microwaves,” Bruce said. 

“Hell ya, I should have been adopted by a rich family years ago,” Danny cackled. Oh dear, he’d been so traumatized yesterday Bruce hadn’t realized he was Feral. Why did this keep happening.

He informed Alfred of Danny’s request and by the time they finished going over the more confusing inventions and left for lunch the appliances were waiting for Danny in the lab that he and Tim would apparently now be sharing. Danny immediately dove on the machinery starting to take them apart with practiced hands. He seemed calm and in his element but Tim stayed to supervise, both just in case something went wrong, and because it was His lab and they hadn’t talked about rules of cohabitation yet.

Bruce left them to it. Alfred had informed him that Jason had arrived and headed straight to the kitchen without saying hello to anyone else. It wasn’t a surprise, he was closest to Alfred, he’s want to help with making dinner, and get the basic scoop from his most trusted family member before having to face anyone else. Bruce knew better than to intrude on that, but God did he want to. 

Regardless of what his children thought Bruce cared deeply for all of them, and he hated that sometimes they doubted it. He wished he was better at telling and showing them, but he’d managed to convince himself it was too late for him to change so he didn’t have to face the years of mistakes and trauma he had endured and inflicted. No matter what what image he tried to project, he was still only human.

He went to his office, but he couldn’t settle to anything, he did a little bit of this, and little bit of that, and just ended up pacing the carpeted floor. He left them alone as long as he could before he gave in and went down to the kitchen.

“Sorry to interrupt, I just needed a cup of coffee,” He said as casually as he could. The looks Alfred and Jason gave him said neither of them actually believed his excuse, which was fair. “It’s good to see you Jaylad, thanks for coming.”

“Well I’m not going to miss out on a new brother am I? You gonna have this one running around in spandex too B?” He asked, raising an eyebrow, it made Bruce wince but it Was progress because he was acknowledging their familial ties. 

“I’m almost two years too late to stop him,” Bruce said regretfully. “It’s been… a lot has happened. I’m sure Alfred caught you up on most of it, but I’d like to talk to you before you meet either of the siblings.”

“Trying to make sure I won’t be a bad influence?” Jason asked and Bruce couldn’t tell if he was joking or accusing. 

“No, nothing like that,” Bruce said, holding up his hands. “I just want to talk.”

Jason hummed skeptically, scrutinizing Bruce before turning back towards Alfred. “What do you think Alfie, can you spare me?”

“I always appreciate your help master Jason, but I can manage on my own,” Alfred assured, sounding amused. 

“Alright, to your office then?” Jason asked, turning back towards Bruce. 

“Or the sitting room, whichever would be more comfortable.”

“Office,” Jason said firmly, this was the distance that he was keeping between them. They worked together now, and Jason cared for his siblings, but he kept them all at arms length. For everyone’s safety really, if they set him off he didn’t want to hurt them, and he didn’t want to be set off either. It always felt like shit. Jason followed Bruce to the office and sprawled in the soft chair across the desk from Bruce’s. He remembered being a kid, sitting properly and nervously in this chair across from Bruce hoping desperately for his approval. How times change.

“I just wanted to talk to you about the new kids” Bruce started and Jason waved him away.

“I’m really not going to corrupt them or anything, I Probably won’t be around enough to make a difference anyway.” Jason said dismissively.

Bruce took a deep breath, controlling his expression and folding his hands on the table. “That’s not it Jaylad, Alfred must have told you that the boy died and came back?” 

Jason tensed and green swirled in his vision, it was the same thing that Bruce had seen in Danny when Zatana asked about Phantom. “Ya he did.” Defensive and insecure.

“It seems like he, and his sister who was sort of a caretaker to him, know a lot more than we do about the effect that that has on a person. To help us take care of Danny she gave us a presentation about it, it… makes a lot of sense. You should probably talk to her and Danny about it really but I just wanted to apologize. 

“I’ve been trying to fix this, fix… you for a long time and I know I’ve been going about it wrong and I’ve been hurting you.”

“You got a new treatment plan in mind, old man?” Jason asked, his arms crossed and Bruce wished that mistrust wasn’t earned. 

“No,” Bruce sighed looking down. “Really Jason I don’t, I know I was wrong. This is something I just didn’t know I didn’t know about,” He hated his own ignorance, he hated to admit it! He was Batman! The way he kept up with other superheroes was always being prepared for everything and knowing more than everyone around him, but he hadn’t even known there was something there to know!

“This isn’t about that, and it’s not about you staying away from the new kids. Exactly the opposite actually, since they know more about this, and Danny might be one of the few people who really understands what it’s like to die and come back like that, I was hoping you’d spend more time here, around them. I think it might help you both.”

“Huh,” Jason sounded, blinking rapidly because that was the most sincere apology he’d gotten from Bruce and he didn’t quite know how to react to it. “Maybe… maybe.” He hadn’t met the new siblings yet after all, maybe they’d hate each other. 

“Can I meet them now?” He asked looking back up at Bruce curiously. 

“Of course, the girl's name is Jasmine Fenton, called Jazz, the boy goes by Danny. Jazz is turning 18 soon, Danny is 16.” 

Right Tim had mentioned that, so Danny was about 3 years younger than him then. That shouldn’t matter too much, and maybe Tim will be right about the sister and can tease Jason about it. He’d been single for a while and wouldn’t mind changing that.

“Of course, I think you should meet Jazz first, she’s protective of Danny and she hasn’t been very involved in all of this. I think she’d feel better being allowed to… vet you first for lack of a better word. Are you okay with that?” Bruce asked Jason politely. 

“Sure, I don’t really care what order I meet them in and… Look Bruce I know I’m mad at you, and I was really hard on Timmy when everything was still raw. But I’m never going to knowingly hurt a kid, or make life harder for them. If I can help them I will,” Jason said sincerely. 

“Jason, the girl is less than a year younger than you. You’re a kid too,” Bruce said sadly. Jason froze for a moment, Yes he was 19, his mind wasn’t fully developed yet or whatever the hell, but he hadn’t felt like a kid since his death. Even before that, the responsibility for his mother, and then the work as a hero. Bruce wanted soldiers, Jason had never gotten a chance to be a kid really.

“Whatever,” Jason scoffed, shoving his hands into his pockets and standing up, closing himself off from that sincerity. “Do you know where she is?”

“She’s in the library,” Bruce said, his lips twitching up in a smile. “She loves books almost as much as you did, though she seems to be more drawn to non-fiction.” 

Jason hummed and nodded, heading towards the door since he knew his own damn way to the library, Bruce didn’t have to lead! He did follow through, he was clearly protective of these kids so of course he would want to be there when Jason met them.

When he entered the library he saw a young woman sitting at one of the tables with some sort of text book. Her back was straight and her legs tucked under the chair with her ankles crossed. It looked like she was self consciously trying to look put together. She looked up at them, blue green eyes looking him over critically, he could practically see her picking him apart in her mind and he tried not to fidget.

“Hey, it’s nice to meet you, I’m Jason Todd,” He said, walking over and offering her his hand to shake. She was very pretty, but he was surprised by his own complete lack of attraction, she just didn’t register that way, she seemed more… maternal almost.

“Ah, the dead son,” She chuckled, getting up from the table and reaching out to shake his hand, her grip was strong and her hands were soft and cool. “It’s nice to meet you, they mentioned you. Nothing bad,” She added when she saw her face. “And I don’t mean to be rude, I know some people are sensitive about their deaths being mentioned. Danny jokes about it all the time so… I just wanted to let you know that I know, and I accept you.” Jazz said with a warm smile. 

Her easy acceptance caught him off guard and before he could help it he was baring his teeth at her in a snarl, defensive and probing, did she mean it? She grinned sharper bearing sharp fangs at him in a matching sign of… friendly aggression, something inside him settled. He chuckled and took a step back. “Well thanks, nice to meet someone who doesn’t look like they bit a lemon every time I make a death joke.”

“It’s your death, as long as it’s healthy you can own that however comes naturally to you,” Jazz promised, sitting back down at the desk. “I’d love to talk more and get to know you, but we can do that later. You really should meet Danny.”

“You don’t want to come with us,” Bruce broke in, sounding worried. Jason had almost forgotten he was there, he hadn’t realized how… all encompassing the short interaction had been.

“I’ll probably follow,” Jazz said with a shrug, her gaze turning stern as she looked at Bruce. “Remember what I said about never breaking up a fight,” She told him firmly. 

Well if that didn’t make Jason nervous he didn’t know what did. Why would he fight with Danny? Would Danny fight with him? Why? “You really think it’s a good idea for us to meet? Why would we fight?” Jason asked her sharply.

“Of course,” she agreed, her eyes softening as she looked back at him, though her expression remained a little mischievous. “It’ll be good for both of you.”

Next

[thetriumphantpanda]

illicit affairs | joel & tommy miller

Summary | Two attempts are always better than one, right? If you're serious about getting pregnant then you can't just hope that Joel can manage to do it by trying once every month. It might be wrong, but seeing him camped out on the couch gives you the perfect excuse to try one more time this month, without distractions.

Warnings | Joel Miller being a fucking stud as always, breeding kink, size kink, dubious moral choices by both reader and Joel, Tommy getting cucked (as usual), dirty talk, unprotected PiV sex,

Word Count | 2.7k

Authors Note | Well..... this certainly isn't how I anticipated this series going, but it makes sense, right? Can't just fuck once a month and expect to make a baby. I am absolutely feral for how much you guys are enjoying this series that wasn't meant to be a series and I hope you continue to do so in the future. And also, don't worry, Tommy is back next time in full force, I promise! If you've not read parts one and two, you can find them linked below on the series masterlist - this probably won't make much sense otherwise.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

When Joel wakes the next morning, crick in his neck and lower back screaming at him for a night scrunched up on his brother’s couch, it’s the smell of bacon and the sizzling sound of something cooking in oil that hits him first. He pushes himself up slowly, running a hand over his face before his eyes search for the wall clock. It’s just after seven, he doesn’t have to pick Sarah up for another few hours. 

The next thing that strikes him is your voice. It’s quiet, like you’re trying not to wake him up, but you’re singing, or rather humming along to some song on the radio. He doesn’t know what it is, doesn’t care to find out, he just sits and listens for a while, letting the sweet sound almost lull him back to sleep. 

When Joel hears the clatter of plates being moved around, he stands, stretching out his back until it cracks in several places. God, he’s getting old. He slowly and softly makes his way to the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe as he watches you. You’re moving scrambled eggs around in the pan on the hob, two plates on the side that already have slices of bacon on them, and he can see slices of bread sat in the toaster waiting to be made. It’s domestic and he realizes he really shouldn’t like seeing it as much as he does. He shouldn’t be here, this should be his brother, but he doesn’t exactly hate it. 

“You didn’t have t’make me breakfast.” He speaks, you don’t jump which makes him think you knew he was there all along. 

“You didn’t have to sleep on the couch all night,” You counter, looking at him over your shoulder, “I guess we wore each other out, only right I send you off with a hearty breakfast.” 

Joel doesn’t really know what he’s doing when he walks deeper into the kitchen. He’s driven by the fact that all you’re wearing is a large flannel shirt, obviously not one of your own, buttoned up over some underwear. You’re fucking magnetic to him, he knows you shouldn’t be, should be as far out of his reach as possible, but he’s only doing you a favour right? The more he repeats it to himself, the more he might believe it. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” You speak as his hands play with them hem of the shirt, although your voice is teasing, it doesn’t warn him to stop, almost dares him to go further. 

Joel hears you chuckle as his hands palm your ass, “You gonna tell me to stop, pretty girl?” 

“You’re trying to get me pregnant, are you not?” You ask, shifting the pan with the eggs off the heat. 

“That I am,” Joel is now pressed firmly against your back, hands wandering underneath the shirt to rest on your hips, “But you gotta tell me if you want me to stop, just me and you this mornin’, sweetheart.” 

“I’m still good to go,” You murmur, moving your ass into him, feeling his already growing erection in his jeans, “So, give me what I want, stud.” 

He doesn’t need telling twice. Never does. He lets his big palm sink beneath the waistband of your underwear, fingers dipping almost immediately through your folds to sink down to where you’re already soaked. He knows some of that has to be him from last night, but as he drags his fingers up, covered in slick to your clit, hearing how you’re already moaning his name, he knows it’s not all him, this is your slick, mixed with him, and it drives him wild. Drives him wild that he’s marked you like this, that you’re just walking around with a piece of him inside of you. 

He's almost shocked by how quickly he brings you to the edge with his fingers this morning. Clearly, you’re still sensitive from the four orgasms he gave you the night before, something that still makes his chest puff, his male ego boosted that he went one better than Tommy for you. 

“Still all sensitive for me, aren’t you, pretty girl?” He leans down to whisper into your ear as his name falls a mile a minute from your mouth, “Gonna come for me?” 

“Fuck – Joel – ohmygod,” He can feel your legs starting to shake, he makes sure the arm he’s got pressed to your lower belly keeps you upright, pressed against him, “Don’t you dare stop.” 

“Didn’t plan on it.” He chuckles, letting his tongue lick hot stripes to you ear before he sucks the lobe into his mouth and nibbles. 

He feels your legs buckle, but that palm manages to keep you upright as you come for him. The way his name sounds in your high-pitched squeal when you let go for him has his cock throbbing in his jeans. If he was any younger, he could almost guarantee this alone would have him spilling himself into his jeans already. 

He lets you catch your breath for a moment as he undoes his jeans, stepping out of them and his underwear, though he leaves his shirt on. He has to be inside you right now or he thinks he might pass out. He drags your own underwear down your legs, kicking them to the side once you’ve stepped out of them, before he’s literally slamming his cock into you with full force. 

“Jesus Christ, Joel,” You keen, “Fuck, you’re so big inside me.” 

“I know babygirl, I know,” He stills for a moment, letting himself get used to the way your pussy is clenching him, literally pulling him in deeper, “A lot, ain’t it?” 

You let out a sigh as Joel pulls himself out before slamming back into you, “I can take it,” You whine, pushing back to meet his thrusts halfway, “Fuck me harder, Joel.” 

He brings a hand up to fist your hair, pulling your head back so you’re arching into him, “Careful what you wish for,” He moans, “Beggin’ me to go harder, filthy girl.” 

Joel can’t quite believe how good this feels. He thought, when he slid his cock into you from behind that he might feel guilty – bending his brother’s girlfriend over the stove without him knowing anything about it – but the way he’s got his hand tangled in your hair, pulling you back so you arch perfectly for him, his hips snapping into your ass in a way that has his vision blurring, he can’t find it in himself to care. Maybe that makes him a piece of shit, but you asked for this just as much as he wanted to give it to you. 

He uses the hand tight in the strands of your hair to pull your face to the side. He presses a wet kiss to your cheek before he can’t stop himself from asking for it any longer, “Kiss me, pretty girl,” He growls, pulling your mouth to within a hair’s breadth of his own, “Give me that last piece of you, I know you want to.” 

He can see you hesitate. Can sense the flicker of doubt across your face. He won’t force this, but fucking hell does he want it. Wants to feel those pretty lips on his own, wants to know exactly what your mouth tastes like. He grips your hip with his free hand, fingers digging into the skin, sure enough likely to leave bruises there, as he continues his pounding into you. 

All of a sudden, you turn your head fully, your own free hand coming up to tangle in the curls on his head pulling his mouth to yours. The angle makes it messy, more of an open-mouthed mash up of tongues that anything else, but it fucking lights Joel on fire. He pulls away and slips his cock from your tight heat, turning you around so your back is to the stove. He pulls your naked body to his own and attaches his mouth back to yours like his life depended on it. 

He can feel his cock slipping between your slick folds as he focuses his attention on his mouth attached to yours. It’s depraved, the way his tongue melds with your own, licking into your mouth like he’s a man starved. Which he technically is, he can’t remember the last time he kissed a woman, let alone one as perfect as you. 

When he pulls away from you, hands on your ass to lift you up so he can carry you to the kitchen island and sit you on top, he focuses on the string of saliva that attaches your mouth to his. He pulls away just enough that it breaks, settling on the hair on his chin. He almost busts his nut all over your lower belly when you lean across and lick it from his face, grin plastered on your mouth like you know exactly what you’ve just done to him. 

You reach down between the two of you, gripping Joel’s cock in your hand, guiding it back to your spread cunt, “I think you better put this back inside me, huh?” You whisper, looking up at him through your eyelashes, “Think you might be about to come, am I right Joel?” 

“Fuckin’ hell,” He curses, head to the ceiling, “Gonna be the fuckin’ death of me, pretty girl,” He takes his cock from your grip, sliding it slowly back into your slick pussy, watching as you throw your head back in pleasure as he does, “How many babies you want?” He asks, royally pushing his fucking luck now, “Tell me you want more than one, tell me I get to come inside your pretty pussy forever.” 

“You’ll have to ask your brother.” You and your smart fucking mouth, Joel thinks, looking down between the two of you where he’s splitting you open, watching as his thick cock slides effortlessly into your cunt, like you were made for him. 

“Didn’t have to ask him this morning,” Joel growls at you, hand resting at the base of your throat, “This was all you, babygirl.” 

He doesn’t think before he takes hold of the material of the shirt you’re wearing and yanks it open, buttons flying all over the kitchen surface. Joel lets it gape open, those big hands of his gripping the soft skin of your waist as he starts pounding into you again. He leans down and captures one of your nipples in his mouth, rolling it between his teeth, soothing it with the pad of his tongue, before he switches to the other side. 

“Such pretty tits, baby,” He groans, moving his lips up to kiss across your neck, “Even prettier when I put this baby inside you.” 

His cock is brutal inside you. He can see the start of the discomfort on your face, still sore and stretched from last night. Truth be told, he doesn’t think he can hold on much longer, not when he looks down at the sight of you, spread out, dripping slick onto the countertop, legs spread as far as humanely possible, tits bouncing with every hard punch of his cock inside you. 

“Want me to fill you up, babygirl?” He asks, leaning down to capture your lips one last time, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever get you alone again, he knows kissing you in front of his brother would probably get him shot, so he’s going to take it all whilst he can. 

“Give it to me Joel, fuck,” You moan, hands gripping his shoulders to keep you upright, “Look at me whilst you do it,” You demands, “I wanna see your eyes when you pump me full of cum.” 

You’re looking up at him, bottom lip bitten between teeth as he stuffs his cock into you twice, three times. He looks you dead in the eye as he lets your name drop from his lips, hand gripping so hard at your skin it’s painful. He does exactly what you say though, looks straight into your eyes as his cock fills your full of his cum. Dark and dangerous, like predator has caught its pray, spread it out underneath him and fully devoured it. 

He lets out the softest of groans as he slips his cock from you, watching as his cum drips from your pussy. It’s depraved, but he takes two of his fingers and pushes as much of it as possible back inside you, curling his fingers up inside you, before he slips them out, covered in his own cum and the slick from your pussy.

He holds them up to your mouth, “You wanna taste, pretty girl?” 

Joel swears he sees the devil when you take hold of his hand and drag that perfect little tongue over his fingers. He thinks he might feel his cock begin to harden again when you take them all the way into your mouth and swirl your tongue over them to get them clean, he’s only a man, he can’t help but imagine what that mouth might feel like wrapped around his cock. 

He helps you down from the counter, passes you the underwear he discarded early and then slips out of his own plaid shirt, offering it to you for ruining the one you were currently wearing. You could very easily wander up the stairs and get another shirt, but you take it from him, wrap it around yourself and do up the buttons. 

“Sit down,” You speak softly to him once he’s got his jeans on properly, “I’ll finish breakfast.” 

Joel watches closely as you pour coffee and reheat the eggs slightly, piling a significantly bigger portion onto his plate than your own. You butter the toast and then sit down next to him, eating in silence. He expects it to be awkward, but it’s the complete opposite. It’s comfortable, warm even, just two people enjoying breakfast together before they must go back to their respective lives outside of each other. 

When you’ve both finishes, you take the plates and stack the in the sink before Joel realizes he’s still got to pick Sarah up. You smile at him when he stands, going to unbutton his shirt to give it back to him when he puts a warm hand on your arm.

“Keep it,” He says softly, “Looks miles better on you than it does on me.” 

Your head dips and then you smile, “Thank you.” 

He doesn’t really know what you’re thanking him for – the shirt? Probably not. But he smiles and kisses your cheek all the same before he’s making sure he’s got his keys and then he’s leaving. 

All Joel can think about on his drive to pick Sarah up is the massive fucking line he’s just crossed. He can paint it in whatever light he wants to – normal couples fuck all the time, at every possible moment, when they’re trying to have a baby, so why should this be any different? That’s all it was, is what he repeats to himself, all fucking day, thinking of the way you begged him to fill you up again, the way your lips felt against his when you finally gave in and kissed him. But there’s still that fucking niggling feeling that he’s fucked it all up, mixed his own feelings in somewhere along the line. He should have never been with you without the knowing stare of his brother, looking out for any signs of concern. 

If only Joel knew that Tommy knew exactly what was happening that morning. If only he knew that you’d padded quietly down the stairs and found him soundly asleep on that couch, first instinct to reach for your phone and sent Tommy that text message. 

Joel seemed to stay the night on the couch. I know you’ll be driving, so totally get if not, but mind if we try again this morning? Might have a bit more luck relying on two instead of one this month. 

You’d waited just moments for Tommy’s reply, standing at the foot of the stairs, watching Joel’s chest rise and fall in his sleep. 

Course not sugar, you can tell me all about it when I get in and get you all to myself. 

[incorrectbatfam]

Home Alone: Batfam edition. How do they each booby trap the house?

Dick: dangles from the ceiling with batarangs

Jason: rolls a used coffin down the stairs

Tim: removes every other floorboard

Damian: runs around with a sword

Duke: shines the Bat-Signal in their eyes

Cullen: puts a bucket of tar on top of each door

Stephanie: shoots waffles from a toaster

Cassandra: swings on a wrecking ball

Barbara: programs a laser grid

Harper: electrifies all the doorknobs

Carrie: sets a giant mousetrap

Kate: plants a military-grade landmine

Helena: rigs her crossbow with a tripwire

Luke: floods the hallway

Bette: digs a flaming pit trap

Alfred: stuffs them in the oven

Selina: lets feral street cats loose

Bruce: releases Damian

[guillotinna]

I keep seeing these Gen z is task force 141 and I wanna join

Anytime you use a computer, you do that stupid movie hacker trope of exaggerated typing and say "I'm in"

Saying "POV" in front of sentences

In the group chat saying "1 like and I'll kms", liking your own message and then saying "damn guess I gotta"

I see a lot of these posts were Gaz and Soap would understand y/n....bffr, no those geezers would not

No one knows what the gen z kid is saying they just know it's probably not good

"You're telling me a shrimp fried this rice?"

You have a small photo you keep tucked in your chest pocket and after enough times seeing you looking lovingly at it, one of the guys asks who it is. Is it a s/o from back home? 😏😏

You say no and pull out a photo card of your fave singer and they're like ??? Really

One time during a particularly physical scuffle with the enemy, you get thrown to the ground and huff out "one hop this time" only to promptly tackle tf outta your assailant while saying "take it back now yall"

Reads everyone's zodiac charts except ghost bc he won't tell his birthday let alone the time he was born so you just make one up

Price calls a 6 am meeting to which you say "double it and give to the next person"

*Alexa, play teenagers by MCR*

If you had time describe the base, you'd say it smells like ball sweat, blood and war crimes which everyone took offense to for different reasons

Would absolutely get soaps doodles tattooed

Actually speaking of which, imagine getting caught giving yourself stick and pokes with a pen and being banned from using pens period

You'd be in a meeting with a #2 pencil

Ofc a gen z member would be absolutely feral which very little regard for their own safety much to the dismay of the others

Quoting "Oh these aren't homemade, they were made in a factory....a bomb factory......they're bombs." All the time around soap even though he has no idea what you're talking about

You don't spent too much alone time with ghost bc he likes quiet and you can't be alone with your thoughts which is why you lean more towards spending time with soap or gaz

I just like puns so I'm gonna add this but gen z love borgs (a customized gallon jug of alcohol that is usually given a name) and yours is appropriately named taskforce 1-borg-1

this is mainly for my americans but i know pretty much the whole world got beef with engl*nd: before you met Soap, you thought the entire 141 was en*lish so when you finally did meet him, you said "oh thank god" with a sigh

americans 🤝 scotts

making fun of english "people"

"Pull up in the monster, automobile gangsta With a bad bitch that came fr-" "....sergeant, comms off please"

you show Ghost WAP and he has to take a walk

*price yelling at gaz and soap*: KYLE GARRICK AND JOHN MACTAVISH GET IN HERE- Y/n: oop not the government name

Another for my US baddies: if your'e ever arguing with any of the guys, the nail in the coffin would be "and it's called soccer"

"one more like and i'll-" "enough!"

you call Price "ms. girl" and he could not be more confused

someone asks "do you serve?" and u reply "yah, serve cunt"

when asked why you decided to join the military you said something like: "well i didnt think i'd live past 18 so when I did, i ended up here".....crickets from the rest of the team

"good thing we only have showers on base because i would have already taken a toaster bath by now"

ask Gaz "no bitches?🤨" one more time see what happens

price: the enemies have taken civvies hostage and blocked off all exits and entrances to the town-" y/n: "omg tea"

Also calling price "capt. Save-a-hoe"....I wanna be saaaavvveddd ;)

If you took a shot every time you said "rest in peace to all the soldiers that died in the service, I dive in her cervix", you'd be dead lmao

When asked if they like the military they'd say "it was either this or the psych ward so yah, I'll take it"

Quoting MPGIS constantly and no one even sort of knows what that is ("Crack. Is that what you smoke? You smoke crack?")

Some detainee being interrogated is spilling some nonsense, so you hit them with "oh brother this guy stinks!" And then with the butt of your gun

"Little bad trini bitch but she mixed with China, real thick vagina, smuggle bricks to-" "SARGENT ENOUGH"

Falling asleep on team mates (minus ghost's) shoulders mostly because the most peace they get is when you're unconscious

*when y/n hears any slightly suggestive/dirty phrase*: what are we talking about 😏 (iykyk)

Same energy as: " born next to a nuclear power plant, has an IQ of 2 and was hit in the head with several Rocks as a child"

Vine quotes out the wazoo, it's just awful for the rest of the team lmao

Replying to everything with "on god?"

soap: "what are you 6?" y/n: "yah 6 inches deep in your mom".....you did not walk away from that unscathed to say the least...worth it tho

[eris-snow]

6. 𝐑𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐞?

Tags: bakugou x fem!reader, juxtaposition, angst, swearing, toaster shenanigans, bakusquad shenanigans

A yellow thread like a soulmate’s cord: So similar, but so different.

Katsuki hates people.

It doesn’t matter if he appreciates a small small small minority of them, he’s fully obligated to bring his thoughts to the grave because Mina and Denki had broken the toaster for the hundredth time, Kirishima’s way too positive for someone going for therapy and Izuku breathes too hard.

“Why do I have to buy the stupid toaster?” He lashes, sweat building dangerously in his hands. “I did nothing!”

“We haven’t hung out properly in a long while, man! Think of it as a…a get-together!” Eijiro told him, slinging an arm around his shoulder.

He’s testing his luck.

Ashido marches ahead of the both of them while playing thumb war with Denki. “And plus-hey!-you went feral when we got the previous previous toaster—Mina, stop it!” Denki chimes in, wrestling with Ashido.

“Who buys a VHS Player toaster? HOW DID YOU EVEN FIND A VHS PLAYER FOR A FUCKING TOASTER.”

“Mhm, uh-huh, yeah, yes, you see?” Ashido responds calmly. “This is why you’re needed.”

Behind them, Eijiro frowns. “I thought that was the 5th toaster, not the—”

“Finish that sentence,” He grits out. “I dare you.”

So yeah, borderline, Katsuki hates people.

He especially hates them when they start asking questions.

“You’ve been a ghost lately, disappearing right after class. What’s going on with you?” Eijiro changes the subject, and looks at him with curious red eyes.

Real, fuckin’ annoying questions.

Katsuki’s brain goes uhhh, and he shrugs off the red-haired’s shoulder to buy time.

“None of your business. If I’m busy, I’m busy. Deal with it.”

His friend gives him an inquisitive look, but Denki’s groan of defeat snaps both of them out of it, and Eijiro backs off. “Whatever you say, man.”

There’s an old street piano that lives right outside the mall. Katsuki’s surprised it’s still there, even after the plaza was stripped bare and renovated, the instrument sat there, creaking and lonely. What a contrast to the shiny, modern building it sat so innocently next to.

Out of nowhere, a splitting headache rips into his skull, and he has to grab the nearest thing (Eijiro) to keep himself from toppling. What the hell?

All he can see is that goddamn piano, multiplying and filling his vision. It flashes, disappears, and then reappears like it’s trying to decide whether it should be there or not. Someone calls his name, but it’s far away. Suddenly, he’s 7 again, showing off to all his admirers how wide his fingers could reach, how beautifully he could play the instrument.

All eyes are on him, and he feels like he’s a third person watching his younger self smile, shift aside to let someone else join him on the seat—

“Bakugou?”

A blink, two blinks, and the image is wiped.

“Bakugou?” Eijiro’s hand is on his shoulder and all eyes are on him. It takes him a second to realise that he’s gripping Eijiro’s arm, and another to unclench his hand. He leans away, and grits out low. “I’m fine.”

“You’re a liar,” Denki refutes, expression worried. “You okay, Bakubro?”

“Headache,” He supplies, gaze cutting back to the piano. It’s still sitting there harmlessly, like it hadn’t given him an existential crisis 5 seconds ago. He filters through his memories, frowning when he grasps at straws. He can’t remember ever playing a duet with someone.

Stalking ahead, he shoots a scowl at the inanimate object and enters the mall. “I wanna be in and out. Let’s go.”

He knows his friends’ expressions. They’re all concerned, because for some reason, Katsuki’s word isn’t good enough for them.

Whatever, it’s not like he hasn’t had lapses like that before.

A store full of green catches Katsuki’s eyes, and suddenly, all he can see is ferns and flowers stuffing the entrance of the little shop greeting the visitors of the mall.

They come back to the dorms with a new, normal toaster, and Katsuki gets a desk cactus.

—

Katsuki’s going deaf. He knows the drill yadda yadda, he’ll be deaf by 35 yadda yadda his quirk is an ass and so is he. However, he prides himself in knowing his eyesight is perfect and better than average. So he really, really hates it when they try to fuck shit up for him by making him see things that aren’t there.

His jacket hanging on the edge of the couch when he was visiting his parents over winter break. (It’s in an old storage unit his parents rented out since he can’t fit it anymore)

A cherry blossom tree siting right outside his old middle school. (It’s in the dead of the winter.)

Random street pianos, showing up at every turn.

And every time he shakes his head and blinks, the objects disappear. He doesn’t even want to get started with his dreams. Scenes from the war have been ending abruptly, cutting off and throwing him into moments of his life he never knew he lived through.

It’s been all he can even think about lately, and his zone-out sessions have earned him a slap to the head by his mother and daily check-ups via text from the shit broccoli nerd and Shitty Hair. He thinks about it, because it’s the same feeling when he hangs out with you. Your presence is so difficult to detect sometimes, he has to steels himself from blasting your face off because he didn’t notice you sitting right in front of him.

He has an internship with Jeanist and 10 articles to write for Hero History. He cannot afford to go crazy now.

—

“Katsuki.”

Katsuki’s eyes open. He spins around and finds a memory, ripped straight out from his life. It’s like watching a scene directly out of a play. His old, junior high classroom, with its rusted cabinets and creaky seats.

His younger self stops, and looks back, obviously annoyed. “What do you want, extra? Who the fuck are you?”

A girl stands there with her face blurred and clipped out, but for some reason, he knows her expression is one of shock and disbelief.

“Katsuki, don’t you remember me?”

Bakugou jolts awake. The sound of someone’s voice he can’t quite hear the words off ring in his mind, and he clenches his shirt as his heart pounds so loud it feels like it’s echoing throughout the entire room. Sweat is everywhere, clinging to his skin like a layer of dust, and a glance at his alarm clock shows 02:31. He lets out a loud groan, glaring at his empty ceiling. He’s definitely not going to sleep anytime soon. With sweat clinging to every part of his body, he swings his legs off and heads to the door. He needs a shower.

And coffee.

—

“Weird dreams? Seeing items not there?” Recovery Girl looks at him thoughtfully. “And you’re positive it’s not a Quirk?”

“That’s what I said,” Katsuki replied through gritted teeth. He’d have known if it was a Quirk. Even some Quirks weren’t touch-based, it was hard to be put under a quirk undetected. This was something else. “If it’s not doing you any physical harm, then my Quirk can’t help you with that. The best prescription I can give you is neuroleptic medications and sedatives for a good night's sleep. Other than that, try to take your mind off training for a while and take the rest of the day off. I suspect that you’re overworked.”

With Recovery Girl’s advice in mind, Katsuki comes out of the infirmary feeling less sane than he originally felt. Overworked? As if. The most eventful thing he experienced this month was him buying a fucking toaster.

With a heavy grunt, he opens the library door and ignores the hall just down the corridor. You’re probably on vacation, or visiting relatives. No point in going there.

If he’s barred from training the rest of today, then he could kill time by learning something new. If he wants to be a top hero, he’s got to be able to communicate. That means in both Japanese and English. If he can read more English books, he’d surely be more fluent in—

He stops short. In front of him, is a yellow thread. It curves and winds and leads him all the way to the back of the library, slung over seats and tables of the nearly isolated room. He’s heard about cringy soulmate manga from Mina, the one where the pinkies of two individuals are connected by a red string. This one, however, is yellow, and looks way thinner, like a spider’s skein.

Yellow.

That was your favourite colour.

Intrigued, he follows it all the way, and when he stops to see what’s at the end of it, he finds an essay shelved in the wrong way buried behind the dusty books that haven’t been borrowed in a long, long time. He almost misses it, but when he does find it, he takes it off the shelf and eyes the title wearily.

Phenomenon: Reset

It’s clearly not a published book, it’s bonded by stapler bullets and it’s written on the old U.A. foolscap that was outdated years ago. It’s more like a log then a book, a diary, even. Katsuki slaps himself mentally. What the fuck is he doing? Playing detective for his delusions? This could be a prank for all he knows, and the yellow skein his eyes playing tricks on him. This was—

‘Not a Quirk, causes people to become nearly invisible to the eye.’

Katsuki blinks rapidly.

Hah?

‘Day 3: I tried to talk to him the other day. It’s like we never met. He asked me if I was a new transfer student. I’ve been in his class for over a year.’

‘Day 4: He forgot our conversation the previous day. The teacher missed my name during attendance and called my parents up today. What’s going on?’

Katsuki skims through the rest of the days, and with each passing page, the handwriting gets more and more illegible.

‘Day 7: I feel like a ghost. My parents still remember me, thank goodness. I don’t know if I could handle it if they didn’t.’

‘Day 16: If this is some sick joke, I hope it ends already. What the hell? It’s like it’s a reset for me every single day. Every time I try to tell someone about it the person straight up forgets me the next day. This isn’t funny anymore.’

‘Day 70: He sees me! I don’t know how this worked but he sees me! I tried probing for more, but I can’t believe it! I’m so glad…it’s been so long since someone looked at me in the eye.”

‘Day 71: He remembers! Honestly, I don’t care that everyone else isn’t noticing me anymore, just having one person is enough.”

‘Day 121: I told him about my situation, and thankfully he believed me. He said he had a feeling about it, something about a watch and the stupid tree in the forest we used to sleep under. He said it kept popping up everywhere and it was driving him crazy.’

‘Day 235: I found an article that’d tried to be covered up. One of the government’s mistakes, back when Quirks were new. It had something to do with a science experiment gone wrong. It might be a lead.’

It goes on and on, from red hairs to dead ends, but through it, Katsuki got a gist of the situation. A science experiment from 70 years ago was conducted to see if a Quirk could be transferred forcibly from one person to another. That Quirk was named Undetected, one of the less destructive Quirks of that time and among the few who agreed to proceed with this experiment.

It might be possible in the modern day, but humans back then were far too uneducated to be dealing with Quirks that were still relatively new. The experiment went wrong, obviously, and it resulted in a glitch of the person’s Quirk and the region the experiment was being carried out in. Victims ended up forgotten with a presence so low that they were basically invisible. Back when this article was still new, there had been questions raised about it, whether these Quirks were more of a curse than a blessing, but with time this phenomenon ‘faded out of existence’.

No one could prove it, and the victims were chalked up to accidents or lunatics. Not many were affected anyway, and almost as quickly as the rumour made headlines, it disappeared entirely from the internet.

Katsuki’s blood runs cold.

Is this what was going on with you?

He leafs through the paper and skips to the last day that was catalogued.

‘Day 435: He said that I looked really pale, and told me that he’d found a way to save me. I was really glad, I was really. I only wish that we could have done it before it was too late.’

Katsuki flips the page over to find nothing else written and almost crumples the paper up in frustration.

He needs to see you. Now.

[toaster-boi]

NEW TEASER, ANALYSIS TIME

so, first off, oil stain outside the elevator. to be expected, not much i can extrapolate from that

that's. uh. th-that's a male Disassembly Drone...corpse? how is it fucking dead??? why is N fine after having his head blown off twice, and what managed to kill this one??? WHY ARE THERE (by counting the glowing nanite stingers) FUCKING SEVEN OF THEM?!?!?!? i thought they could only die if the core was destroyed, like with Eldritch J?

(good anatomy material for the fanartists, tho!)

lots to work with here, body count is now eleven, and it's a JCJensen office. "DON'T LOOK DOWN" on the wall behind the desk, and...what looks to be a few inches of standing oil completely covering the floor.

why is the computer on why does it still work WHY DOES IT STILL WORK WHY DOES IT STILL WORK

also what the FUCK is making baby noises???????

those outfits look like the dresses Nori and Yeva were wearing in the Camp 98.7 photos, and the white strips of...fabric? bandages? are probably (formerly) the hand wraps both of them had. also, we haven't seen that loading symbol on drones before. are they buffering? rebooting? updating?

yooo more biomechanical body horror

i checked, no movement on the still-functioning cameras, but...why the hell are there so many severed limbs in the security room, how many drones does it take to watch a few screens lmao

oh. oh that's why there were so many limbs, the security room was integrated into a surgery ward. surely nothing bad happened here :)

also, i can't for the life of me figure out who that laughter is coming from. it kinda sounds like Uzi? but also could be V? definitely not Doll, J, or Tessa tho

can't make out what's written on the box either

oh so a hole opened up in the roof between the core collapse and now, probably just structural decay, right? right???

ah, so that's where the teaser image comes from.

this episode could go all sorts of places. first of all THERE ARE DISASSEMBLY DRONES ON COPPER NINE IN A SITUATION WHERE THEY WOULD HAVE BEEN BUILT THERE, NOT SENT THERE

second, they're DEAD. not from natural causes, either, if the fact that they're covered in oil and missing their heads gives us any clues

plus, the surgery ward and raptor...thing...hint even more towards the biomechanical nature of at least the DDs, maybe also the Workers, but that's not as clear-cut when the Solver has been the only cyborg-making entity so far.

mark your calendars, people, cause this ought to be a good one.

[babydollmarauders]

MEDIA MANAGEMENT — JACK HUGHES (23-24 SZN PART 9)

au masterlist

notes: written while extremely tired

y/ndevils00

liked by tofff73, lhughes_06, and 245,187 others

y/ndevils00 THESE BITCHES ACTUALLY WON!

i mean— Devils won 5-4 tonight against those island guys!

we got on the board by a goal made by my favorite ginger tea! and even more than he likes scoring, doug-doug likes to lay on the ice and gossip like a schoolgirl 🫶

uncle toffee got his very first goal as a devil tonight and i’m SO PROUD OF HIM! despite the fact that he’s actively in kahoots to steal my man (see: slide 9) (i’ve got my eye on you, toffoli 👁️👁️)

bestie number 2 pushed a man to defend babygirl, tonight— my heart is so filled with love ❤️

MY SMUSH GOT HIS FIRST GOAL OF THE SEASON!! LOOK AT HIM GO! I LOVE HIM SO MUCH, I WANNA SMUSH HIS CHEEKS AND KISS HIS FOREHEAD! he, however, did not appreciate my words of encouragement (see: slide 6). little spit-fire, you! don’t ever do that again 🫶

not pictured: timothy got his shit rocked… yet ended up with a roughing penalty?? i’m actively suing the refs FOR him. @tmeier96 i hope you appreciate me

AND FINALLY, THE MOMENT YOU ALL (me) HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR: MY MAN, MY BABYGIRL, MY LOVE, MY CAT-DAD, MY BEAUTIFUL MEME-SHARING, HOODIE-HOARDING, BLUSH-INDUCING BOYFRIEND, SCORED TWO (2) GOALS TONIGHT! INCLUDING THE OVERTIME, GAME-WINNING GOAL! THAT’S MY PERSONAL HAND HOLDER RIGHT THERE!

p.s. my heart is filled with hate, and for once, barzy the bald is not enemy #1. Ryan Pulock, however? count your days and say your hail mary’s bitch, cause you hurt my slut

tagged dougieham, tofff73, john.marino97, lhughes_06, and jackhughes

Load more comments

lhughes_06 you already DID smush my cheeks and kiss my forehead…. in front of the entire team

y/ndevils00 AND I’LL DO IT AGAIN!! C’MERE!

lhughes_06 @/jackhughes GET YOUR GIRLFRIEND, SHE’S TRYING TO GET TO ME ON THE BUS

lhughes_06 was that 6th picture taken on a toaster?

y/ndevils00 listen, you brat, the islanders fans don’t like me because i threaten their bald man— i was working with where i was because they wouldn’t let me through, which meant taking an extremely zoomed in picture from across the rink

lhughes_06 maybe if you, idk, stopped threatening their players?!

y/ndevils00 i can’t do that.

user10 y/n and luke are so siblings already 😭

user72 dougie is so me

john.marino97 your heart can’t be filled with love and hate at the same time

y/ndevils00 don’t tell my heart what it can and cannot do?? stop policing my body, asshole

john.marino97 i wasn’t policing your body?! do what you want with your body!

y/ndevils00 thank you, i will!

john.marino97 so what are you gonna do with your body?

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes

john.marino97 i expected too much from you

y/ndevils00 what DID you expect?

john.marino97 “spread love”

y/ndevils00 well i mean, i AM spreading love iykwim

john.marino97 delete your social medias

y/ndevils00 i can’t, it’s my job 🤷‍♀️

barzal97 you know i’m not BALD right? it’s just a buzzcut

y/ndevils00 YOU’RE BALD! YOU’RE BALD AND YOU’RE TORTURING PEOPLE WHO HAVE HAIR

barzal97 okay, i tried

y/ndevils00 👨🏻‍🦲 <- you

barzal97 @/jackhughes your girl is a little messed up, but i think i like her

jackhughes step off, barzal! that’s MY messed up feral raccoon

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said about me 🥹

user94 toffoli has kissed jack before nico has kissed jack… nico is fuming

user08 i’m gonna frame the 5th picture and put it on my wall oh my god

jackhughes why the 7th picture?

y/ndevils00 you look like how i imagine a toddler playing soccer… like you just stopped in the middle of the game to chase a butterfly

jackhughes i-

jackhughes i got something off of my visor, BEFORE A FACEOFF

y/ndevils00 DON’T YELL AT ME! I’M SENSITIVE!

jackhughes i’m sorry, i love you to pluto

y/ndevils00 because….

jackhughes because pluto IS a planet

tofff73 i promise, i’m not trying to take your man

y/ndevils00 well why not?! he’s a catch!

tofff73 i’m a bit confused here

dawson1417 she’s always confusing. you learn to live with it

dougieham i DO like laying on the ice!

y/ndevils00 i can’t blame you! that’s what i do too!

jackhughes @/y/ndevils00 that’s cause you have no other choice. you can’t skate

tmeier96 i appreciate you, i love you, please do not sue the refs

y/ndevils00 you just said two nice things and then proved them untrue

dawson1417 i’ll do better next game, i promise! i’ll earn a feature!

y/ndevils00 you did great, bestie! don’t listen to ruff-ruff, you deserve top-line, babycakes!

dawson1417 no “do better”?

y/ndevils00 never “do better” for you!

dawson1417 but like 3 weeks ago…

y/ndevils00 i have no recollection— short term memory loss— hi, my names dory!

dawson1417 you’re a special little nutcase

y/ndevils00 thank you 🥰

nicohischier i have a name?

y/ndevils00 yes!

nicohischier so you KNOW i have a name…

y/ndevils00 indeed!

nicohischier so why don’t you USE IT?!

y/ndevils00 okay i think YOU don’t know your name

nicohischier my name isn’t slut

y/ndevils00 that is your given name and you will like it!

nicohischier i don’t wanna like it!

y/ndevils00 tough luck, slut

[quiet-onset]

me and mr. jones

pairing: steve rogers x reader

wc: 9.6k+, sorry

summary: you're with bucky, so why does steve want you so badly?

warnings: smut with a plot, so minors DNI!! unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), cheating/infidelity, and slight exhibitionism so pls don't read if that's triggering, steve is a bit of an ass but he has a beard so it cancels out

a/n: tell a friend to tell a friend... she's baaack. but fr, i'm making my comeback. thanks to @brattylyricist for being my beta reader and putting up with how feral i get for thee steve rogers

You hated Steve.

He was pompous, self-righteous, and stubborn. He always had to get the last word in an argument and hated to admit he was wrong. He was certainly and undoubtedly the man you loathed most on this Earth.

But he was also your boyfriend’s best friend. So, when Steve temporarily moved in with you and Bucky after moving back to New York, you made do because you were utterly smitten with James Buchanan Barnes. They’d been best friends for nearly a century — who were you to say no?

Not much changed. Except for the constant arguing between you and Steve, most of them for insanely petty things. Take this morning, for instance. You stood in front of the stove on a late Monday morning making a hearty breakfast for you and your boyfriend. Notice how Steve was not part of the equation.

The boys arrived home from their long run just as you had finished setting his plate on the dining room table. Bucky smiled at you as you poured a glass of juice, pulling out a chair as he kissed you noisily on the cheek. “What is all this?”

“I made brunch. Tony said he’s not especially busy — said I could take the morning.” From your right, you heard a quiet scoff from Steve. “Something to say, Steven?”

“Not at all.” Steve said, biting his tongue. He retrieved a bottle of water from the kitchen, ignoring how you glared at him from behind the partition.

“Well,” Bucky interrupted, “That was very thoughtful of you, baby. Thank you.”

“Of course. I hope you like it!”

“You’re not joining?”

“Still cooking. Oh, that reminds me!” You hurried back to the kitchen, suddenly remembering the pancake still sitting in the pan of the hot stove. You call back to him as you flip it over. “Besides, I’ve been snacking the whole time, so I’m kinda full.”

Steve walked by you and rested against the countertop. He eyed the nearby plate of bacon and went to pick up a slice, but you smacked his hand away. Steve let out an indignant sound as he snatched his hand back, “What was that for?”

“Did you make any of these pancakes?” You asked sarcastically.

“What’s your point?”

You could both hear as Bucky muttered a quiet here we go around a bite of his food, but you ignored it.

“My point is that unless your name suddenly changes to James, none of this is for you.” You replied. “I suggest looking in the pantry for cereal.”

“Seriously? You cooked an entire continental breakfast just to be immature?”

“Oh, I learned it from the best.” You threw a fake smile in his direction, batting your eyelashes. 

Steve scoffed, blood boiling in his veins. He didn’t know when you learned which buttons of his to press to upset him, but you did a hell of a job. Worse, he knew he was giving you the exact reaction you wanted. You wanted to see him angry, to make him upset. It amused you to see the oh-so-great Captain America get pissed off because of your pettiness.

One, two, three, Steve counted in his head, taking deep breaths. He was not going to let you win today. He walked to the pantry and pulled out a bagel instead, making sure to bump your shoulder as he padded over to the toaster. It barely broke his stride, but it nudged you forward, your hip hitting the corner of the counter. Then, he walked back to the fridge and bumped you again, this time almost throwing you off your balance. “Steve, you little—“

“Can you two go thirty seconds without fighting please?”

Bucky’s question hung in the air as you and Steve glared at each other. The look in your eye was intense, angry even. You hated how easily Steve got to you sometimes. His mere presence got you heated, and you dreamt of the day he’d move out. You loathed how smug he looked, almost as if he were taunting you, urging you to keep going. To give him a reason.

Pop!

You flinched when Steve’s bagel popped out of the toaster, grumbling to yourself as you turned on your heel toward the exit of the kitchen. “I’m gonna get ready for work.”

Once Steve was satisfied with his breakfast of a bagel and fruit, he joined Bucky at the table. His best friend shot him an exasperated look, and Steve’s brow went up defensively. “What?”

“Do you have to torment her?”

“She started it! She went out of her way to mess with me.”

“I swear, it’s been a year and a half, and you two still act like children.” Bucky shook his head.

“She is the problem, not me. Just ‘cause you let her boss you around doesn’t mean I will.” Steve knew the comment was a bit harsh, but he couldn’t help it, a scowl etched into his features. “Don’t know how you deal with her.”

Bucky only chuckled as he bit into a slice of bacon. “It’s because I love her, man. She’s the first person, besides you, to see me for me.”

Steve could tell that his best friend’s feelings for you were real. The look in Bucky’s eyes, Steve had only seen once before — and that was back in the forties. His face lit up when you entered a room, and he grinned every time you pecked his cheek. He could never say no to you, never even wanted to. Steve couldn’t understand how Bucky fell in love with such an insufferable brat, but it didn’t matter. You made him happy, so Steve learned to make do.

“Besides,” Bucky continued mischievously, “you have no idea how bossy she can really be.”

Steve’s brow furrowed at the statement. The longer he looked at the smirk on Bucky’s face, the quicker the realization came. Oh, that kind of bossy, Steve thought. He shifted in his seat, feeling hot all of a sudden. Sure, he and Bucky sometimes discussed their intimate lives in the past, but never while in a relationship, and never about you. He lets out something akin to scoff, doing his best to seem unimpressed, uninterested. “Does she at least make it worth being bossed around?”

Bucky leaned forward and lowered his voice, “You have no idea. Nine rounds, back-to-back, in one night. Nine. She’s the only woman I’ve met that can handle the serum’s effect on the libido.”

“Wow, happy ending every night — good for you.” Steve’s response came out with a playfully sarcastic sneer, but inside, he started to feel cramped, heated. Like he needed to crawl out of his own skin to rid himself of the fever. He settled for digging his fingernails into the meat of his thigh, an action that goes completely unnoticed by Bucky. 

Suddenly, Steve’s breakfast was infinitely more interesting than that conversation.

“Well not every night. Got let her rest sometime, y’know?” The brunette replied with a smirk, blissfully unaware of Steve’s need to douse himself in cold water. With that, Bucky stood from the table, taking a few strips of bacon from his plate and dropping them onto Steve’s, right next to his untouched blueberries. “Don’t let her see.” 

As Bucky left to prepare for work, Steve sat at the table. Blunt nails left crescents in his thighs as a shuddering breath passed through his lips. He stared at the bacon — food you’d made just to piss him off.

When you came back into the room, a lilac dress adorning your body, he looked up. The fabric clung to your curves and flowed out at your hips, highlighting the expense of your legs. If you noticed his gaze linger on your thighs, you didn’t mention it. You only glared at him when you saw the bacon on his plate. “That wasn’t for you.”

He picked up a slice, took a bite, and smirked, “I know.”

—

The auto shop was the only place Steve could escape from you.

After he retired as Captain America, he became a mechanic. He knew a decent amount about cars and learned the rest on his downtime. It gave him purpose, work that he could do with his hands. Creating, fixing, helping, that’s what Steve was good at. So the auto shop became like a second home. It was nice and easy, uncomplicated, which was exactly what he needed.

It seemed, though, that complicated always found Steve.

Ever since Bucky had uttered those words to him, the tiniest description of his sex life, Steve’s mind began to wander. You had always been attractive to Steve — he wasn’t blind. But the constant arguments you and he had put him off from having any lewd thoughts about you. But now, with this key piece of information, his mind was racing with the possibility of you.

He found himself wondering how your body would react to the lightest touch, what noises you’d let out. Steve bet they were sweet, a satisfied hum resonating through your heaving chest. But, of course, they’d get higher-pitched, breathier as you got closer to the edge.

Desperate. The word was probably not even in your vocabulary — at least not with Bucky.

You had him whipped. The man gave you anything you wanted without question. For the briefest moment, Steve thought the unthinkable: I could make her desperate.

That was when Steve knew he had to find something to do. Something with his hands, his brain, a problem to solve. That way, he’d be too busy thinking of potential solutions than worrying about his own moral dilemma. So he slid underneath an old, broke down pick-up truck and got to work. 

He finally managed to propel you from his thoughts, replacing each dirty vision of you with thoughts of what parts he needed to order. That, until his phone rings.

He slid from under the truck and wiped his hands on a nearby rag before grabbing his phone. And, of course, it’s you. The woman he loathed, the woman he was fantasizing about, calling his phone just as he managed to get a grip on reality.

He answered in a huff, “What?”

“Before I say what I need to say, just know that I didn’t want to call you.”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. That fucking attitude. “Then why call?”

“Look, you’re my least favorite option, Rogers.” She added, matching his energy. “I called Tony, but he told me to call Bucky. I called Bucky. He’s wrapped up in a super secret SHIELD meeting that he can’t get out of, and he told me to call… you.”

“Bucky said to call me?” Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, knowing that he was about to do whatever she needed him to. For his best friend, of course. What other reason would he have?

“His exact words were ‘Well, if you don’t call Steve, I’d have to get you an Uber and you’d have to leave your car’ so—“

“What’s wrong with your car?”

“It broke down. Won’t start again.”

“Fine.” Steve was reluctant as he gathered his tools and a few spare parts just in case. “You in walking distance?”

“No, I’ll send my location, just hurry up.”

She hung up before he could reply, and he let out an inward groan. Before he could get too angry, he took a deep breath. This was not for you. This was a favor for his best friend. That’s what he told himself when he got into his car and followed the GPS to your location.

Steve pulled up in front of her car about twenty minutes later. He frowned when he noticed another car parked behind yours, and a man speaking to you, from his rearview mirror. As he exited the car and grabbed his tools, he could hear the backend of your conversation.

“C’mon sweetheart! You don’t want my help?” The guy asked with a condescending smirk. “I could fix you up real good, promise.”

“I’m waiting for someone already, thanks.” You told him with a tight-lipped smile, arms crossed over your chest.

“She’s waiting on me.” Steve called out. He slammed his door closed, striding over to you. As much as he absolutely loathed you, he didn’t want to see any harm come to you. He was Captain America after all. Chivalry was practically in his blood. He didn’t see how your eyes widened as he stood beside you, giving the man a hard glare. “You can go now, buddy.”

“Hey, I was just offering my services.” The guy defended.

“She doesn’t need them.”

“What? Is he your boyfriend?”

“Yeah, I am her boyfriend.” Steve’s mouth moved faster than his brain could think. He missed your stunned look, your subtle blink of surprise when he stepped in front of you, shielding you from the stranger’s eyes. Steve stared down at him, daring him to say something, anything else. His final warning is low and menacing. “Leave.”

“Fine, man.” The man stepped back, trying to seem nonchalant, like he wasn’t scared out of his mind. “Whatever.”

Steve waited till he drove away to move, his feet crunching over gravel as he turned on his heel. “Thanks for the help.” He said dryly.

It takes you little time to regain your senses, frowning at his smart remark. “Oh, so it’s my fault I was accosted by some creep.” You replied sarcastically. He ignored your comment, instead walking by you toward the hood of your car. You rolled your eyes and mumbled under your breath, “God, you’re such a prick.”

“Hey,” Steve’s tone was sharp as he popped the hood. “That guy would still be hitting on you if it weren’t for me. You’d think a thank you would be in order.”

“You would, wouldn’t you?”

“Unbelievable.” He grumbled. “Look, just tell me what’s wrong with your car or stop talking please.”

“How am I supposed to know? You’re the mechanic.” You snapped at him.

Steve could feel himself getting worked up in more ways than one as he looked up at you from where he bent over your car. His glare was vicious as he thought about letting loose on you right there, on the side of the road. Maybe in the car, against it, or — if he was feeling especially cruel — on the rough, gravelly ground. But he counted in his head, one, two, three, four, five, until his heart rate calmed.

He returned his attention to the car, leaving you to watch him in silence. You thought about his words, his voice echoing in your head. Yeah, I am her boyfriend. What possessed him to say such a thing? You tried to convince yourself that he was just trying to help you, to intimidate that creep into leaving you alone.

If that’s all Steve was doing, it didn’t explain why his faux declaration made your heart skip a beat.

You pushed such traitorous thoughts to the back of your head, watching as Steve messed with this and that under the hood of your car. “Do you even know what you’re looking for?”

“It’s broken, I’m fixing it.” He replied pointedly, not sparing you so much as a glance.

“Fine, fix it then.” You huffed.

You leaned against the car, crossing one ankle over the other as you watched him work. It was then that you started to notice the small things about Steve. The small birthmark on his collarbone. The stretchmarks on his bicep. The smooth, fluid motion of his muscles as he twisted and turned different things. It made heat blossom at the base of your neck, so you turned your attention to the gravel. After about twenty minutes, you leaned under the hood with him, watching as he used a wrench to twist something tighter. “Do you actually know what you’re doing, or should I call a real mechanic?”

“No, I’m just smacking things around for fun.” He responded sarcastically. “I’m done now, try the ignition.”

You practically ran back to the driver's seat, raising the key until you heard the ignition turn over with a purr. Just a second after, cool air blasted from the vents, and you sighed happily, sliding down in your seat. “Oh, thank god.”

Steve tried not to watch through the windshield as the AC blew a bead of sweat between the valley of your breasts. He shut the hood of your car and wiped his hands clean with his rag. “Thank you, Steve. I appreciate your help.” He said dryly, leaning down on your car door with the window rolled down. “You’re welcome, Y/N.”

“Yeah, yeah, thanks or whatever. You can go.” You waved your hand dismissively. “I gotta finish running this errand for Tony.”

Steve watched your car pull off with a screech of the tires, knowing that things are getting infinitely more complicated.

—

It’s worth repeating, Steve hated you. So why was he imagining what you looked like beneath that little lilac dress?

He could practically see it in his mind. Beautiful legs that would wrap tightly around his waist. Arms that could so gracefully wind around his neck. Hands that he was certain were soft, especially pressed into his more calloused ones, rough from years of combat and physical labor. He could picture your silhouette like it was burned into his retinas, the shape of the woman he couldn’t stand.

And why did he say he was your boyfriend? It replayed in slow motion, the words falling from his lips as he stood protectively in front of you. Steve told himself that he was just trying to get that creep to leave you alone. As much as he disliked you, he didn’t want some random guy taking advantage of you on the side of the road.

But deep down, he knew that wasn’t why. Something inside him, in the pit of his belly, wanted you. Romantically, he wasn’t sure — but intimately? Sexually? There was no question, he wanted you. He wanted to touch you. To grab your ass by the handful and leave little marks on your neck until he dragged what he was sure were beautiful noises from your lips. He wanted to bury his fingers, his tongue, and fuck his cock inside you until there was nothing left of the both of them. To fuck you deep and raw and primal until you begged him to stop.

But beneath the very real desire for your body was guilt. Loyalty to his best friend. The same blood that boiled with lust burned with shame. How could he think such filthy things about his best friend’s girlfriend? Steve and Bucky had been through hell together and always dragged each other out. Bucky would take a bullet for him, and vice versa — almost had on a few occasions. What kind of person did that make Steve?

An asshole, obviously, Steve thought.

And so he ignored it. For the next three months, he ignored your petty attempts at arguments and all your smartass remarks as best he could. Every morning when you left for work, he made sure to look elsewhere, not wanting to be tempted by how well your clothes hugged your body. He even had a one night stand, an extremely unusual event for Steve.

And even so, it was uneventful. He met a woman down at the auto shop. She was attractive, they flirted and exchanged numbers, and she invited him over. What they wanted was clear, and they wasted no time. He fucked her hard and fast, toying with her clit to make sure she came, before coming himself, filling up the condom she gave him. Then, he left, and they hadn’t spoken since.

And even still, those thoughts wouldn’t leave his head. For those three long months, Steve was tormented by fantasies of you, and he didn’t know how much longer he could take it.

He laid in bed, dreaming about it. He fantasized about eating your pussy in his sleep. He’d take his time with you, kissing and nipping at your thighs until you begged him, all high-pitched and whiny. Then, he’d take a long, slow lick, entrance to clit, before diving in. He’d draw the ordeal out, pulling away just before you come to suck on your outer lips, just enough stimulation to keep you writhing beneath him. And finally, when you begged prettily enough, he’d let you—

Steve shot up in his bed, panting. His sweat soaked his sheet. What’s worse, his dick was as stiff as a rock, precum staining his gray sweatpants.

He dragged a hand over his face, letting out a quiet, exasperated groan. What am I, sixteen again?, he thought to himself, Having fucking wet dreams?

Steve swung his legs over the side of the bed, deciding that a glass of cold water might help him cool down. He left his bedroom and headed toward the kitchen. Then, he paused, hearing a strange noise. His brow furrowed as he turned on his heel, walking back down the hall slowly until he heard the noise again. And unfortunately, it led back to the one place Steve was dreading.

Yours and Bucky’s bedroom.

Just like Bucky had confided in him, Steve heard you giving orders. 

Go faster, baby. 

Uh-uh slow down, not yet. 

Behave yourself.

If you’re good, I’ll let you come inside me.

Steve couldn’t take it anymore. Every nerve was standing on end as he practically ran to the kitchen, making as little noise as possible. He downed two glasses of cold water, finally feeling himself cool off by the third. He sat on a stool at the kitchen island, waiting for what felt like forever for the noises to stop. Not that he could hear anymore. His heart was pounding in his ears as he tried to forget how you sounded in the heat of the moment. He rested his head on the cool marble and tried to take deep breaths.

But the noises did stop. And you left the room to retrieve water for you and Bucky. But you’re met with Steve, at the island, sitting in the dark. 

“Steve?” Your voice was quiet as it cut through the silence. His head shot up, and you saw his chest heaving. You frowned at him, wondering if he was in pain. “Why are you out here? It’s late.”

“I uh… I couldn’t sleep.”

Your lips parted in surprise, taking in a sharp breath as you hoped that Steve didn’t hear yours and Bucky’s late night activities. Thankfully, Steve couldn’t see you blush in the dark. Without another word, you walked across the room and opened up the fridge. The warm light of the fridge shone on you, and he managed to catch a glimpse of your silhouette. His eyes quickly trailed over your body, which was covered by Bucky’s white t-shirt. Your legs, though, were bare — soft and inviting.

He looked away before you closed the fridge and turned around.

He heard your footsteps pad away, then stop. When he lifted his head again, you were walking over to his side of the island. You didn’t stand too close, just an arm’s length away. Your voice was missing your usual bite when you spoke.

“A couple months ago, when my car broke down and that guy was bothering me… Why did you say you were my boyfriend?”

Steve almost froze at the question. What was he to say? He took the briefest moment to think, to find some statement that, at the very least, seemed neutral. “Just wanted to get that creep to leave you alone. I’m not a monster.” Steve said. He followed it with a shrug, trying to seem nonchalant about the ordeal. “Besides, it’s not like we like each other anyway. Why make a big deal out of it?”

You nodded. “Just curious.”

Just then, the same thought crossed both your minds: Maybe it is a big deal.

Steve’s brain short-circuited with that thought, and suddenly, his hand was moving. Before he could think, his thick fingers reached toward you and touched the skin of your bare leg. Guilt settled in the back of his mind as his hand curled around your upper thigh, lightly gripping the flesh there. When your lips parted to suck in a sharp breath, he pulled you closer still.

The air changed. It was thicker, heavy with the weight of the forbidden desire. No matter how deep the breath you took was, it would never be enough to satiate the tension of that moment.

He tugged lightly, slowly, to make sure you had the option of pulling away. That way, he’d know if his feelings, his desire, were just in his head. But you never did. You willingly shifted your weight as he pulled you closer, moving to stand between his legs. His hand reached up just a few inches to catch the edge of the shirt you wore — of Bucky’s shirt. He twisted his index finger around it to pull it taut, releasing it just as quickly. 

“Baby!”

Bucky’s voice called from your bedroom. You practically jumped away from Steve, like you’d been caught. Without another word, you swiped the two long-forgotten water bottles and hurried back to your room.

—

You’d never had a harder time sleeping than last night. Especially not after sex. But you tossed and turned all night, thinking about him. The man you loathed most on this Earth. The man you let touch your bare skin, even if for just a moment, while your boyfriend waited for you in your shared bed.

Thank God Bucky slept like a rock now.

The next morning, when you arrived in the kitchen, Steve was already sitting at the island with a bowl of cereal. You stopped in the doorway when his eyes fell on you. It was like someone had pressed pause on your lives, his hand even stilling with a spoonful of cereal, milk dripping from the convex side. There was nothing either of you could say to make what happened the night before okay. Nor could anything make you forget. So, you both just stared, waiting to see who would speak first.

Then, Bucky approached from behind you, pressing a quick kiss to your shoulder. He started to greet you both, but stopped for a moment, looking back and forth from you to Steve. “You two are not having a staring contest right now.”

You watched as Steve blinked a bit and shook his head, returning back to his breakfast. You let out a breath, forcing out a little laugh. “Well, not anymore. Steve blinked.”

Bucky chuckled and shook his head before brushing past you. “Just when I thought you two had turned a corner.”

You have no idea, you thought to yourself. The thought made your stomach turn uncomfortably. The weight in the air was nonexistent to Bucky, and that makes everything so much worse. Not even in his nightmares would his best friend and the love of his life betray him in that way. But even with Bucky in the room, all you could think about was how the callouses in Steve’s hand felt against your bare skin. The moment was short and fleeting, but it felt like a lifetime.

The hour that breakfast took was uneventful, save for a few passing glances between you and Steve. Bucky led the conversation, as usual, asking about everyone’s plans for the day. Steve planned to work on the old Mustang in the garage. Bucky, on the other hand, had to go into work to finish some paperwork. You had the day off and planned to just relax — which now meant avoiding Steve.

“I’m going to go on a run first though.” Bucky noted, his stool scraping against the floor as he stood up. “Anyone want to join?”

Steve was quick to agree, “I could go for a run.”

“On a thirteen mile run? No thanks.” You quickly answered with a playful scoff. You tried to tell yourself that the frown pulling at the corners of your lips was because you’d miss Bucky — not because Steve would rather go on an excruciatingly long run than be around you. Definitely because you’d miss Bucky.

“I’m going to head to work right after the run, so it’s just you and Steve for a couple hours.” Bucky told you. He pecked you on the lips three times, waiting for your frown to return to a smile. When it did, he kissed you a bit longer, nipping on your bottom lip. “You two play nice.”

Steve cherished every mile of that run with Bucky. He counted the minutes, glancing at his watch every so often. Even when their run was winding down, and they approached the house, Steve offered to go longer. “Another mile or two?” He’d asked Bucky.

“Can’t, gotta head in.” Bucky panted. He noticed the look on Steve’s face but chalked it up to disdain for you. “It won’t be that bad, Steve. It’s a few hours.”

“Yeah.” Steve nodded, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

And then Bucky hopped in the car and headed to work. Meanwhile, you curled up with a book and a mug of tea and sat in the living room, hoping that Steve would just use the back entrance. Of course, you were not so lucky.

Steve entered the house, still in his white t-shirt and joggers. He was planning on changing into some older clothes so he could work on the car, but when he saw you, he stopped. He looked at how you sat on the couch, knees drawn up and resting to the side. By the looks of it, you were halfway through your book, but he still managed to tear your attention from the action on those pages.

“Hey.” It was all he could manage, a single word to fill the empty, potent air.

“Hey.” No snark in her response, he thought. Noted.

“What, um, what are you reading?”

“Can’t you see the cover?” You shifted in your seat, free hand resting on your thigh. You fell back on your defenses, sarcasm and pettiness, to maintain your control. “Or maybe you can’t read, is that it?”

There she is, the fucking brat. Steve rolled his eyes. “Yes, that’s obviously the issue here.” His legs carried him to the other side of the couch. Just resting his legs, he convinced himself. A quick rest before going on with his day.

His eyes trailed over the cover of your book, seeing the cartoon image of a man and woman holding hands, along with big pink bubble letters that spelled out the title, Me and Mr. Jones — obviously some sort of romance novel. Then, Steve got sidetracked. He watched your hand that rested on your bare thigh, your thumb stroking the skin there absentmindedly, when he realized.

That’s the same spot he touched you last night. It’s where he grazed your skin, where he wrapped his hand around to pull you closer. You were stroking that spot so delicately, and you didn’t even notice.

It drove Steve wild. He needed to think about something else quickly.

“What’s it about?” He asked.

Your eyes widened. You curled in on yourself, turning your body to face Steve but pulling the book toward your chest. “Nothing, mind your business.”

Finally, something else for Steve to focus on. It was rare that he had the upper hand, that he could embarrass you. An eyebrow perked up as he smirked at you from across the couch. “What was that?”

“What was what?”

“That.” He waved his hand around at you with a chuckle. “That reaction. Whatever you’re reading, it can’t be that bad.”

“You wouldn’t like it.” The words came out quick and defensive as your eyes returned to the page. Then, Steve did the unimaginable. He leaned across the couch and snatched the book from your hands, laughing as you immediately started trying to retrieve it. “Give it back, you asshole!”

“C’mon, Y/N.” He teased. He held you back easily, keeping the book far above your head. “I just want to see if I’ll like it. Let me read it!”

He laughed as your protests became less and less aggressive, finally devolving into pleas. It was too late though. Steve started to read. Aloud. 

“She…,” He paused at the passage, his vocal cords pulled tight as he read. “She kissed him softly on his neck, nibbling on his Adam’s apple.” His gaze returned to you, noting how you avoided his eyes. “Do you usually read things like this, Y/N?”

Your voice was soft when you answered, taking on a much smaller tone than he’d ever heard from you. “Just give it back, alright?”

His eyes trailed over you, at how you rested on your knees beside him on the couch. You couldn’t bear to meet his eyes, embarrassment clear as day in the faint tint of your skin. It was a new emotion he’d never seen in you. You always had the upper hand, always made the situation turn out in your favor, always got what you wanted. Now, watching you reach over to grab the book, he smacked your hand away again. He was going to make the most of this moment. He wanted to show you what it felt like for someone else to control the situation.

So he kept reading.

“Nathan pulled her back by her hair, holding her still so he could dive in for another kiss. It was desperate, deep, a reflection of the control that was slowly slipping from his grasp. Rebecca managed to pull back for air and gasped. ‘We shouldn’t be doing this.’ She urged, biting back a moan.”

“Steve, c’mon.” You pleaded quietly, toying with the hem of your thin cotton shorts. “I get your point, just gi—”

“But he just wraps a hand around her throat, squeezing softly. He was…,” Steve paused as his eyes skimmed ahead, “He was past the point of caring. All he could think about was her body, her noises, her pleasure. Nathan should absolutely not be kidding Rebecca like this, touching her like this, but—” He nearly choked on his own breath, eyes locked on each and every minute squirm of your body, on the way you shied away from his gaze. He finished the line from the book in a low whisper, “But that only made him want her more.”

You both knew what was happening. It was the loudest silence you’d ever heard, the only sound being your quiet heaving breaths. It was a silence that reeked of disloyalty, a sweet temptation that was almost too good to ignore.

During that silence, Steve realized that he understood exactly how Nathan felt. Like the character from your book, Steve was running out of patience, out of self control. He couldn’t find the strength to move away from you, and if you didn’t move soon, he was going to do it. He was going to betray his best friend. He was going to take what he wanted from you. His last line of defense only came when he saw your eyes slowly look up. He noticed the quick pause you made at the evidence of his arousal beneath his sweatpants, the soft fabric straining against his growing bulge, and he’s two seconds away from losing it.

“Y/N, if you don’t move to the other side of this couch right now, I won’t be able to stop myself.” Steve’s warning was slow and rough.

And suddenly, it’s all too real. In so many words, he’d confirmed that he had these feelings too. The same conflicted feeling that pounded against your chest every day for three months. An identical increased heart rate, just like when he said he was your boyfriend. He’d been thinking about you, too. When you finally met his eyes, they were unlike you’d ever seen them. Dark and greedy, pupils already blown out, leaving only a thin blue ring. 

You tested the territory softly. “What if I don’t want to?”

“Move.”

The singular word was more like a growl. One last chance at stopping this, at saving your relationship with Bucky.

Instead, you scooted closer. Just enough for your knee to brush against the outside of his thigh. You leaned over and reached across his lap, taking the long forgotten book from his hand. He looked almost relieved, thinking that you were going to take your book and return to reading in solitude. But his hands clenched into fists when he heard your soft voice once more.

“‘I don’t care.’ Nathan panted as he bit down on her earlobe.” You read softly, slowly, making sure every word sinks in. “‘We’ll deal with the consequences later. Right now, I have to have you.’ Neither he nor Rebecca had the chance to protest before Nathan… before Nathan slid ins—”

The passage was cut short when Steve pulled you closer by the nape of your neck, his lips pushing feverishly against yours. Your surprise lasted for but a moment before you melted into him, and your eyes fluttered closed.

His hands squeezed at you, at the back of your neck and at your hip, wanting you closer. One hand snatched the book away and threw it somewhere behind the couch. Just as quickly, Steve’s hands pushed you backward, your back hitting the fabric with a soft thud. He didn’t hesitate to pull your legs apart, slotting himself between them as he leaned over to kiss you once more. You gasped at his sudden manhandling, and he used the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, drinking up every little noise that fell from your lips.

His hand slid up your back and into your hair, pulling you away for the briefest moment. He could feel every nerve standing on end when you tried leaning back in to kiss him again, desperate to feel his lips on yours. Still, he held you back by your hair, groaning at the little whine you let out. The tip of his nose just barely ran up your throat as he breathed in and inhaled the raw scent of your need. 

“Why couldn’t you just fucking move, huh?” 

He growled out his question, mostly to himself. There’s a tiny voice — caution, loyalty — nagging at him to stop. That making out with his best friend’s girlfriend was wrong. That thinking of all the ways he was going to bring you to the edge of ecstasy was immoral. But Steve’s eyes were glued to your every movement, to the way your back arched and how your hands clutched onto his white t-shirt. And he can’t stop. Steve was the Nathan to your Rebecca. He had to have you.

Still, you silently contemplate the question as well. Why didn’t you move? What about him was so infectious, so undeniable that you needed him to touch you, if only to know what it’s like? He licked and sucked at your throat. His rough hands gripped at your outer thigh, pulling them close to his hip. Every movement was so sure, so certain. He knew what he wanted, and he was going to take it — the thought made you squirm beneath. 

The shameful thought that crosses your mind breaks your heart: Bucky never touched me like this. She should be mortified, embarrassed. 

Instead, her hips buck into Steve’s.

“Thought about this for so long.” He murmured against the sensitive skin of your neck. He bit down, making you cry out, before soothing the spot with his tongue. “Dreamt of doing the filthiest things to you. And then last night, all those fucking noises.”

You tried to hide your burning face by covering yourself with your arms, but Steve was quick to pull them away. “That why you’re always such a brat? Never been put in your place?” He asked, his tone a bit condescending.

It’s shameful, the way your mind jumps to Bucky, to how he pampered and spoiled you, even in the bedroom. Even worse was the desperate mewl you let out at Steve’s tone, shaking your head.

“Don’t worry, pretty girl.” Steve mumbled, pressing wet kisses down her body. Down, down, down, until he was kissing the waistband of your cute little cotton shorts that always drove him crazy. “We’ll fix that attitude right up.”

You counted yourself lucky that you lifted your hips in time for him to yank your shorts and panties down in one swift yank. You were sure that he wouldn’t have hesitated to tear them off of you. There was no time for you to feel bashful or shy about bearing yourself to Steve — as soon as the soft fabric left your skin, his hands were pushing at the back of your knees, up and out, so he could get an eyeful of your glistening pussy.

“Fuck.” He was entranced, mouth falling open as he pushed his index finger past your lips, through your juices. “All this for me, pretty girl?”

“Mhmm.” You hummed as your eyes fluttered closed.

“Use your words.” His eyes caught yours as his finger just barely brushed your swelling clit, and you knew it wasn’t an instruction. It was a warning.

You bit back the urge to say something snarky as you normally would, knowing that he wouldn’t hesitate to deny you what you wanted. “‘S for you. It’s all for you.” You moaned softly.

Steve could see the reluctance in your eyes and chuckled to himself. He was going to enjoy this. Maybe that was why he was so attracted to you. Because you were such a smartass, a brat. He liked that you fought him, taunted him, teased him. That meant that there and then, with you squirming below him as he licks through your dripping cunt, tonguing at your clit, he could break you down.

He saw right through that tough, bossy girl facade. He was going to tear you down, destroy you, then build you up again. Even if he never got to touch you again, he wasn’t going to let you forget that he could reduce you to a quivering, moaning mess.

A dream come to life is the only thing to describe it. Steve buried his face in your cunt like it was oxygen and he, a suffocating man. His stubble stung deliciously as his tongue flicked back and forth over your clit. Then, when your moans and whimpers became more frequent, more high-pitched, he’d back off — drag his tongue down to your opening to drink up the juices he’d pulled from you so effortlessly. Even when you buried your fingers in his hair, trying to pull his tongue back to your clit, desperate to come, he just pinned your hands down by your hips, continuing to lick, suck, and tease.

“You don’t come until I say so.” He mumbled into your pussy, his beard drenched in you. “Now, keep these legs open, pretty baby.”

When his tongue returned to your soaking core, you swore you were going to explode. The pleasure was almost torturous, twisting in the depths of your belly like it wanted to rip you apart from the inside out. Instinctively, your thighs started to tighten around Steve’s head, and he let out a moan against your swollen pussy lips. The vibrations almost overtook you, but he pulled away before you could fall into bliss, letting go of your wrists to smack you hard on your inner thighs. “What did I just say?” He said, his gaze dark as he stared at you.

“Can’t help it.” You admitted softly, a whimper escaping your lips when one of his strong hands stuck between the valley of your breasts and up to your neck. “Need it so bad.”

“Do you? ‘Cause you haven’t even asked me nicely. You can’t want it that badly.” He feigned sympathy for you as he crawled back up your body, lips brushing against yours as he spoke.

“I wanna come.” You whined, brow furrowed in desperation.

“You should’ve thought about that when you were being a smartass.”

Before you could complain, he tugged you up by his grip on your neck, pulling at your limbs until you were sitting on his lap. Your mind took a minute to catch up to Steve’s manhandling, but he regained your attention when he pulled his t-shirt off. Your eyes trailed over his torso, over the thick muscle and strong pecs that you suddenly had an overwhelming desire to squeeze.

He snapped his fingers, “Hey, eyes up here.” You almost feel embarrassed by how quickly you followed his instructions, just barely shrinking under his smug gaze. “If you want to come, you have to work for it. Earn it.”

At first, you weren’t sure what he meant. Hadn’t you earned it by now, you thought. Lying there with his tongue pushing in and out of her cunt, his lips sucking on your clit, without being allowed to come seemed like torture enough. But when he shifted his hips beneath you, pressing his clothed dick into your puffy folds, you gathered his intentions.

You moved your hips forward once, experimenting with the feeling. And when you let out a much louder moan than you anticipated, you suddenly understood how far he’s willing to go. The soft fabric of his sweatpants brushed across your already sensitive pussy, leaving the faintest tinge of a burn on your skin. You could feel the heat of him, feel him twitch beneath you as you ground your hips desperately against him.

All the while, Steve looked on with a smirk. He could practically feel the reluctance evaporating from your body. He saw the way your shoulders drooped, the way your head lolled and your eyes almost rolled back in your head. He kept careful watch of you, listening as your moans got more desperate, even bracing your hands on his shoulders to grind down harder. But he stopped you, slowed your pace, leaving you dangling off that edge with a whine. 

In response, he let out a smug chuckle. “Did you think it’d be that easy? You’re not getting anything until you beg.”

Beg? You hadn’t begged for anything in your life. Not with your parents, not with any of your exes, and certainly not with Bucky. That was where you drew the line. You just wanted him to give you what you wanted. Without thinking, your hands drifted down his torso, reaching for his waistband. You hoped that maybe if you could touch his cock, just once, he’d give in and fuck you.

Before your hands could reach their destination, he snatched up your wrists in one hand. He tugged you forward so that your pussy was pressed firmly against his shaft beneath his pants. His eyes bored into yours, and you suddenly wondered when he became this intimidating.

“That might work on your little boyfriend, but it won’t work on me.” He gritted out. “You’ve got one more chance before I lose my patience.”

Steve should have felt guilty for saying that. He should have paused and stopped what he was doing. But he didn’t. Objectively, it was wrong, but his dick twitched in his pants nonetheless. Nothing was going to stop him short of your saying no. He was going to utterly ruin you for other men — including Bucky.

You’d truly underestimated just how long he was willing to edge you. He kept the same routine each time. You ground your pussy on his clothed cock until there was a large wet patch on his crotch, a mixture he was certain was mostly you with a bit of him. He’d wait longer and longer each time, letting you get closer and closer but never letting you fall over into your orgasm. You lost track after the fifth time.

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. You were wound so tight that you were sure you would explode from the tiniest touch, if only he’d let you. Steve even added on to the heat coursing through your body, cooing meanly at the desperate tears building in your eyes. At last, you whimpered the word that he’d been waiting to hear, “Please.”

Steve’s brow perked up, “Speak up, pretty baby. Can’t hear you when you mumble like that.”

“Please.” You’re louder this time, clearer, tension rolling off your back as you succumbed to him. “Please, I need to come.”

“Doesn’t sound like you’re asking.” He teased.

“Please, can I? Can I please come?” It was then that you finally let go of all defiance, giving in to Steve. You didn’t want to be a smartass. You didn’t want to be a brat or make him angry, like you usually did. Then and there, all you wanted to do was let him make you come. A tear fell down your cheek as you begged, and he cupped your cheek, brushing it away with his thumb.

“There she is. All obedient and compliant. Just needed someone to fix that attitude, huh?”

He smirks at the way you nodded wantonly, loving how absolutely wrecked you looked. Now that you’d finally given in, he’d give you what you wanted. He was a man of his word, after all.

He pulled you off of his lap to which you’d closed your eyes and let out a whine, “You said—“

“I know what I said, pretty baby. I’m gonna make you come, don’t worry. Gonna make you cum till you’re begging me to stop.” He told her, bending her over the arm of the couch. Suddenly, his hand was in your hair tugging your head up. Your back arched as he leaned over you, his lips against your ear. “He could walk in any minute now.”

Your eyes shot open as you realized he had you facing the front door. Neither of you knew when Bucky would be home. Stop him, a voice called from the back of your mind. Don’t go any further. Don’t do this. Then, you felt the head of Steve’s bare cock pushing through your folds, your juices leaking onto his shaft.

“And you’re still gonna let me fill this tight pussy up, aren’t you?” You could hear his hand slide over his cock, spreading your wetness over the shaft.

Filthy. Wrong. Immoral.

“Yes.” You sighed out prettily.

Stop. Degenerate. Selfish.

“Let me hear you say it, pretty girl.” His tip nudged at your entrance.

Bad. Depraved. Shameless.

“I want you to fuck me.” 

Too late.

His cock stretched you wide, pulsing steadily as he pushed deeper inside, letting out a long moan. He used his knee to spread your legs wider, and the tip knocked into your G-spot. Your eyes rolled back as your orgasm built quicker than expected. Pleas began to fall from your lips without hesitation. “Can I come, Steve? I can’t hold it — please say yes!”

“Go ahead, pretty baby. Come on my cock.”

Like his voice controlled your body, your cunt fluttered around him. You let out a loud moan, crying out his name. If you had your wits about you, you might’ve been worried about the neighbors hearing. But you could barely hear your own voice, ears ringing as your body quivered. The pleasure crawled up your spine, exciting every nerve along the way. Had it not been for Steve’s hand in your hair holding up upright, you’re sure you would’ve collapsed.

“Shit.” Steve let out a groan and leaned back a bit, his hands pulling your ass apart to get a better view of your twitching pussy drooling all over the length of him. “Better than I fucking imagined.”

There was no chance to gather your bearings before he started thrusting into you, deep and slow. He was reaching so deep inside you, punching places with his cock that you didn’t know existed. All you could do was take it, your pussy gripping him like a vice.

“This what you wanted all this time?” He leaned over your body to mumble in your ear. “Haven’t been properly fucked in so long, have you?”

Your cheeks burned at how easily Steve was able to see through you. You only responded with a loud whine as he bit down lightly on your earlobe.

“Been reading those dirty little stories to get your fix. Me and Mr. Fucking Jones, hm?” He let out a teasing chuckle. “You won’t need those books anymore, pretty baby, I got you.”

The knot in your stomach was wound so tight, you could already feel the ache in your core. You were shocked, stunned that you could feel so sensitive after only coming once. But that was exactly what he wanted — overstimulated from the start. When his cock started passing over your G-spot with every thrust, you reached a hand back, pressing it weakly against his hips. “‘S too much!” You moaned, twisting your neck to look at him with wide, pleading eyes.

“Uh-uh, this is what you were begging for, baby. You can take it, c’mon.” He pulled your hand behind your back, using his grip on you as leverage for his thrusts. A deep groan vibrated through his chest when your cunt squeezed around him, your ass bouncing off his thighs. “That’s it, you can do it. Tell me you can take my dick.”

You keened at his praise, whimpering as his tip pounded into that spongy spot inside you, bringing you closer and closer to orgasm. “I c-can!”

“You can what, honey?”

“I can take it!” You moaned, fingers clutching onto the fabric of the couch. “Oh my god, please don’t stop!”

“Good girl.” He pressed harder on the hand behind your back, watching your spine curve in a deeper arch. “So fucking pretty. Gonna come again for me?”

You couldn’t even manage to hold it back. Just hearing the words good girl sent you into a spiral, pussy spasming uncontrollably as your thighs shook. Cloud nine didn't even begin to describe the euphoria that washed over you. Each wave was stronger than the next, and Steve’s nonstop assault on your G-spot didn’t help. You vaguely heard him talking you through it — aw, that feel too good, pretty girl? that’s right, keep squeezing my cock, fuck you’re so wet — as you pushed your hips back, meeting him thrust for thrust.

“So fucking tight.” He gritted out, punctuating each word with one hard thrust of his cock. You felt his cock twitch inside you, and he let out the smallest growl. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me come.”

“Want it.” You moaned, body jolting with each thrust. “Want you.”

Suddenly, his arm was around your neck, pulling you up so his chest was pressed against your back. “This is my pussy now, baby.” He panted, his breath hot in your ear. His blood was pumping too fast, too hard for him to feel bad about what he said. “Day and night, you’re fucking mine, you got that?”

Your eyes were glued on the front door, even as his words made your pussy flutter. The tiniest shred of remorse seized your heart, and you shook your head, hands gripping his forearm around your neck. A few tears spilled down your cheeks, a pitiful mix of guilt and desperation. “No.” You whimpered as your eyes fluttered closed. “No, I c-can’t. What about—“

“Don’t lie to me.” He growled, watching your body shiver when he pressed two fingers hard on your clit. “You might feel bad — Hell, I might, too. You’ll kiss him, you’ll sleep next to him, you might even love him. But this cunt? She’ll fucking drool at the thought of my cock, won’t she?”

You didn’t answer. You both knew the answer, only confirmed by how your cunt pulsed around him. He rubbed your clit in tight, fast little circles, wanting to hear you admit it. “Won’t she?”

You squealed, the oversensitivity taken to a new level as the pain and pleasure attempted to rip you apart from the inside out. You whimpered and nodded — too late for shame, for modesty.

“Say it, baby. Say it like a good girl.”

“I’m… I’m yours.”

His cock twitched inside you again, bringing you closer to your orgasm. His arm pressed your throat, only slightly cutting off your air. You were lightheaded in the best way, feeling the pleasure creep up on you as Steve groaned in your ear. He told you to say it again, and you did. You kept saying it, kept telling Steve that you were his, that your pussy was his, until you could barely think of anything else. Even as his thrusts started to get sloppy, you moaned Steve’s name, feeling the start of your orgasm take over.

“That’s it, pretty girl, milk my cock dry. Take all my fucking come.”

Even still, under all the noise — the slapping of skin against skin, the squelch of your pussy as his cock drove in and out of you, your moans, his filthy words — you heard the click of a lock.

Your eyes only caught his for a brief moment before the pleasure crashed over you, before Steve turned your head and pressed his lips against yours, groaning as he felt you shake and come undone beneath him. All teeth and tongue, you whimpered into the kiss as you felt spurt after spurt of warm come fill you up. He thrusted hard and deep, pushing his cock further inside you until the come seeped back out, dripping down your thighs. As his tongue glided across yours, he knew he never came harder in his life. And, perhaps, unfortunately, neither had you.

You were panting into each other’s mouths, riding out your highs, when his voice called out your name, then Steve’s, quiet and hurt. His best friend. Your boyfriend. Your Bucky.

Fuck.

[britt-kageryuu]

Raph is relaxing on stream while playing a cozy game. He has a very big fluffy blanket draped and wrapped around him, while leaning against a giant pillow. His mask is not on so some light scars around his right eye are visible, and his arm tattoos have a light glow to them.

Raph was chatting with the audience, though as time went on he was yawning a bit more often, getting a bit more tired, so some of the chat were betting on if he was going to fall asleep again.

Raph lets out a loud long yawn again, "Man, I sometimes miss when my sibs were tiny~ they were so cute~ even when they annoyed the heck outta me."

He pauses the game, and puts down the controller, "Like Mimi used to get so messy with his art stuff, I remember when he drew little versions of us on the wall, sure Pops was mad, but he just gave Mimi some books and paper to draw on instead." Raph sways side to side with a very happy expression. His tail is visibly wagging under the blanket with kinda audible thumps.

"I remember when Dee took apart a radio, the microwave, that one toaster. I don't think we could fully stop him from dismantling anything, but we did get him to start putting things back together." Raph lets out a happy sigh, "I could go on about Dees antics."

"Oh Blue, he used to be almost glued to Dee, but he would also spend hours trying to read the comics we had. He would constantly go to Dee for how to say words." Raph lets out another yawn though much smaller.

"Hmm, why didn't Blue come to me? Well I've always had a hard time with learning stuff. My mind couldn't hold what I learned. So to anyone it would seem like I'm a meathead jock type, like the dumb athlete tropes in old TV shows." Raph says while moving his legs into a different position. "But we figured things out. I got some plans to go into Sports Medicine, that way I can help prevent some of the common injuries in Wrestling, or at the dojo I volunteer at."

Raph gets a bit more sleepy, but keeps rambling, the audience and chat are all over the places, especially when he mentions Dee having an aggressive biting phase, and they would hold on like a cartoon dog.

Raph eventually does fall asleep, and the chat goes nuts again until Mikey came to check on him for missing dinner.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dee would later get a bit mad at Raph for inspiring their fans to create some Feral Dee memes, and that they were editing their head onto cartoon dog biting into things.

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

Masterpost

I had this idea in my head for a couple days, and when writing almost made it a bit dark, I didn't want to do that so I restarted with a better start.

How was this going to be dark? I was about to start it with Raph venting about being basically racially profiled as a teen, but then remembered 'this is supposed to be Raph sleepily gushing about his siblings, how am I supposed to turn it to that?' So I just backed it up, and wrote the above.

[dysfunctional-doodle]

Feral Turtle Shenanigans ™️

I finally added another part to my Turtle Instincts Series! It’s called Sunny Days, focusing on April taking the brothers to a beach for the first time.

-> Link to the fanfic :) <-

In which Donnie catches a fish, Mikey gets his hand stuck in a Pringles tube indefinitely, Raph is cast out to sea, and Leo murders a toaster. Regular stuff.

[halestrom]

i cannot stop thinking about this single moment, and yes I did make gifs just so I could scream about this.

Of all the things John could've said here. Not allowed, nope, not gonna happen, you can't, etc etc all of that. It's I can't.

LIKE HE CANT??

He can't what? Let Rodney do this? Let Rodney go and give himself up to the wraith knowing first hand what that pain feels like (not even getting into the fact that this is the same wraith that fed on him). Can't sit there knowing what Rodney will go through and what Rodney is willing to give up to save his sister, and I wonder if part of him is wondering how they got here. If he's to blame for Rodney willing to give up his life to save someone else. (he's not tbh, Rodney always been that brave IMO, he's just finally in a situation where he knows people have his back ((looking at u hide and seek my brave little toaster)))

I realize that hes saying "I can't" to Rodney asking permission to go (which, once again. is another thing I don't want to get into of Dr. Rodney McKay PhD PhD asking permission from his team lead to do this) but its' just. So insane to me that this was actual dialogue in an actual scene.

John can't let Rodney do this, and he won't let him do that and if John "orders are made to be ignored" Sheppard has to pull fucking rank to do it, then he will.

But he sure as hell won't meet Rodney's eyes as he does it. Not until Rodney says please and John lifts his head, meets Rodney's eyes, does an epic bottom lip wobble and then says he's sorry. look at the lip wobble and misty eyes people because I had to stare at this a lot when making another gif and I am FERAL over it. A+ acting JF, seriously. 10/10 gold stars for you.

John knows what it feels like to be fed on by a wraith, and he knows that pain. And maybe it's my little mcsheppy heart, but at the end of the day the pain is one thing. What John really can't do? Is let Rodney sacrifice himself.

He can't let Rodney go.

But he sure as hell has no issue letting Wallace go, knowing that pain, knowing what that feels like and knowing what it feels like to be so close to death, but Wallace doesn't get the happy ending. Wallace doesn't get his time back, and John (and the marines so hello I have more questions about them as well) watch it happen.

Because John can't let Rodney go.

And I'll never not want to scream about it.