#like he just rocked every single outfit they gave him

[fuctacles]

<< 2

The quickly approaching Saturday would be impossible to forget even if Steve wasn’t excited about it himself, because Max had been discussing her outfit every single day. 

When Eddie’s van came screeching onto their curb, her wardrobe was all over her bedroom while Steve was busy doing the dishes. He could hear the familiar sound of his garage door opening, the steps approaching the side door, and the tiny knocks Eddie always gave as a warning before popping his shaggy head into the kitchen to say hi.

Steve, despite himself, was already smiling as he turned towards him. The man waved his fingers in greeting, grinning back.

“Hi.”

“Hi. Excited for today?”

“Man, am I?” he hopped up and down on the balls of his feet. “We haven’t played a weekend gig in forever. The turnout is always so much better.”

“I can’t wait to see it.”

Eddie opened his mouth to say something, but loud stomping on the stairs interrupted him.

“Mr. Eddie!”

“Yes, Mad Max?!” he yelled back to match the girl’s volume.

Steve winced at their antics.

“Is this good enough for a metal concert?” she asked as soon as she barged into the kitchen. No greeting, just her spreading her arms and doing a spin. Eddie, of course, humored her, rubbing his chin in thought.

“I’d say so, yeah. Personally would add more rips in the jeans, but it’s good anyway.”

Steve whipped around, eyes wide at his kid's outfit: Black and white T-shirt, jean jacket, and black ripped jeans. His eyes narrowed.

“You don’t own ripped jeans,” he pointed out. The redhead looked up at him like a deer in the headlights, her lips pressed into a thin line.

Next to them, Eddie wheezed in barely contained laughter. Steve turned to glower at him.

“So this is why the parents don’t like you?” he asked the man covering his mouth.

“Excuse me, I go to work dressed professionally with no holes in my clothes.” He raised his hands in defense.

That much was true. He dressed differently from the rest of the staff but not enough to be unprofessional. He often came to practice at Steve’s place soon after leaving school so today was a rare day when he could see how the metalhead dressed off the clock. He was wearing a Dio crop top, jeans shredded to pieces and a studded belt.

“Actually,” Max spoke up, pulling him away from eyeing his metalhead guest (friend?). “I saw it in a photo of Dio in an article.”

“See?!” Eddie gestured pointedly.

Steve scoffed, wiping his hands, so he could cross them and convey his annoyance properly.

“She wouldn’t know who Dio is if not for you.”

Munson, of course, exhibited no remorse. Instead, he smirked with satisfaction.

“And you wouldn’t either.”

“I don’t think it would change much in my life,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“He was already listening to a lot of rock,” Max pointed out, the little traitor. “He kept most of Billy’s tapes.”

Steve’s eyes darted to Eddie, whose eyebrows were raised with curiosity. He didn’t say anything, though, and Steve was grateful for that.

“I see,” he nodded instead, dragging his eyes along Steve’s body. “I hope you'll dress your father accordingly as well.”

Steve frowned, looking down at his polo and jeans.

“What’s wrong with my clothes?”

Max sighed deeply and Eddie leaned back, with played-up pity in his eyes.

“Oh, darling, where do I even start?”

Darling, darling, darling, darling.

Eddie loved his nicknames and playful banter, but they usually didn’t have time for it. Which might be a good thing, considering how quickly Eddie’s whole persona was growing on Steve.

Thankfully, Gareth's voice came through the garage door.

“Eddie! We don’t have whole day!”

The man straightened up, fumbling with his back pockets.

“Coming!” he yelled back, before turning back to the Harringtons, holding something out. “I got you these, just in case. I know it’s not the most kid-friendly environment but backstage will be open for you guys to hang out without being trampled by drunk metalheads.”

Before Steve could react, Max was snatching the offerings from Eddie - two lanyards with laminated plaques.

“Holy shit!”

“Language,” murmured Steve, eyeing what appeared to be backstage passes for the two of them. He looked up, meeting Eddie’s gaze, and felt himself go soft. This guy was thoughtful enough to think about Max. “Thank you. That’s very considerate of you.”

“Yeah,” Max nodded along. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” he shrugged. “Wouldn’t want my suburban middle-class guests to mingle with the common folks.”

“That an insult?” Steve raised his eyebrow, to which Eddie started backing out toward the garage.

“Ehhh,” he waved his palm in a ‘kinda’ gesture. Then he pointed at Max to say, “Dress him up!” before disappearing.

She grinned at him, but her smile faltered when Steve’s gaze dropped to her pants.

“Don’t think I forgot about the pants, Maxine.”

“Will you forget about them if I help you to impress Eddie?” she asked innocently, making Steve straighten up.

“What?”

“Don’t make me spell it out for you,” she rolled her eyes. “You acted the same around Billy.”

His head whipped to the garage, but the doors were already closed and the faint sounds of a guitar were coming from behind them. He leveled Max with a gaze he hoped was threatening but she was, of course, unfazed.

“What? You’re allowed to date, you know?”

“I know,” he gritted out,�� brows furrowing at being reprimanded by a teenager.

“We’re doing well. My therapist thinks so, and so does the social worker,” she points out, the little smart ass. Steve wouldn’t change her for anyone else. “We can move on.”

Steve hummed in consideration. Maybe he should have gone into therapy as well. It was true he hadn’t dated since Billy. His death, fighting for custody while trying not to lose his business, and then dealing with a kid aged him ten years in a short time. But they settled into a comfortable routine now. Max might be right, as insane as it sounds.

“Fine,” he spat out. “I’ll forget about the pants if you keep your hands out of my love life.”

Her eyebrows shot up mischievously.

“Who said anything about love?”

“Go. Go call Mike to brag about the passes, I know you want to.”

“Hell yeah I do!” she admitted with a wide grin before darting to the phone.

------

Steve didn’t want to admit the comments about his appearance got to him, but the fact that he was staring at a pile of rejected tops was speaking for itself. His hair was certainly ruined by now with the amount of frustrated finger combing he was doing.

“Need help?” Max’s amused voice approached from the entrance of his bedroom. He turned over his shoulder, glowering. Her smile only widened. “Because I might have just the thing,” she continued, waving a piece of fabric in her hand. Steve’s eyes followed.

“What is it?”

With a smile that said evil demon child spawn of Satan, Max let the fabric unfold. It was a raglan t-shirt with a logo Steve recognized from the drums residing in his garage. His eyes widened.

“Where did you get that?”

“Won it at a music trivia Mr Eddie was hosting. It’s not exactly kid-sized though, sooo…” she trailed off suggestively.

“They have their own merch?” Steve asked curiously, motioning with his hand for the shirt.

“Yep. Mr. Eddie makes it himself!” She beamed like it was her own accomplishment and not just her music teacher being a crafty nerd. Steve smiled despite himself.

“That’s pretty cool,” he admitted.

“He makes t-shirts for school clubs too. He said he’ll try to host a screen printing workshop in the summer,” she said with that particular intonation that made Steve know she wanted something.

“Hm. That sounds like a fun activity to keep you away from drugs.”

“It does, it does,” she agreed, nodding aggressively.

“Well, consider me convinced. Now shoo, I'm not stripping in front of you.”

“Okay, Dad,” she rolled her eyes, pushing herself away from the door frame and skipping away.

As he pulled his shirt off, Steve remembered his concerns about raising a teenager by himself. Meanwhile, Eddie was a significant enough influence on her to make him feel more at ease. Was he a cookie-cutter role model? Hell no. Was he a responsible teacher who also remained cool and aloof enough to make kids listen to him? Absolutely. With someone like that on his side, parenting didn’t sound that scary.

The t-shirt with Corroded Coffin’s logo, while not being kid-sized, wasn’t Steve-sized either. It stretched across his chest and ended just at the hem of his jeans. When he pulled his arms up, his happy trail was on display.

But…

Seeing Eddie’s band on his chest, wearing a t-shirt he made himself, made all the best knots in Steve’s stomach tighten. He ran his fingertips across the exposed sliver of skin above his waistline, wondering fleetingly if the girls wearing his letterman felt similar to this.

He found a flannel Robin left in his closet at some point and threw it on to finish the look. He looked at himself in the mirror, rubbing the fabric of the overshirt between his fingers. The memory of his best friend soothed his nerves a bit.

He ran downstairs, eyeing the clock. The Hideout wasn’t a far ride from their place, so they still had time to grab a bite before leaving. A quick PB&J sounded perfect for his nerves.

“Maaaax!” he yelled from the kitchen, halfway through lathering a piece of bread in peanut butter. His precious housemate came rumbling down the stairs as he expected, just as eager to leave as he was. In fact, they still had sandwiches hanging from their mouths as they entered the car.

it's been A WHILE and this and the next part will be lower quality than my current writing bc its OLD so let me know if u want off the taglist i dont care if u do: @blasvemous @wheneverfeasible @phantomcat94

@dreamercec @theohohmoment @ellieslapdancer @hellowhatthehellisgoingonhere

[shellshocklove]

moanin' & groanin' | logan howlett

pairing/AU: lumberjack!logan howlett/wolverine x inexperienced!female!reader

summery: working for your father's timber business isn't what you saw yourself doing, but when the wolverine comes looking for work it's suddenly not so bad – especially when he can teach you a thing or two.

warnings: this is an 18+ fic so mdni! age gap (in the way that his mutant abilities prolongs his life), swearing, use of pet names, smut, car sex, praise, a little dacryphilia, logan's got a dirty mouth, soft dom!logan, a little size kink (basically logan has a big dick), handjob, fingering, a little manhandling, unprotected sex (don't do it!!), no use of y/n

a/n: um hi! this is my first ever logan fic. i really hope i got him right! not beta read, and barely edited so any mistakes are my own. happy reading! <3

main masterlist / ao3

The pages crinkled under your fingertips as you turned another page. Over the top of your book you could see your father's men milling about, getting the timber ready for another outgoing truck. Day in and day out they worked like flannel-covered ants. 

He wasn't here, your father, leaving you to hold down the fort, or office to be precise, as he  ran errands. "I'll be back before lunch," he'd told you, a hand passing through the sleeve of his tan Carhartt.

The office felt bigger when he wasn't here, like his neuroticism took up twice as much space as he did himself. You looked around the room. It was small, more like a hut than anything else, raised up on cinderblocks. A tiny kitchen lined the front wall, the refrigerator had given out once this month already and something smelled like it had died in there, the white florescent light under the wall cabinets gave you a headache, and the tap drip drip dripped. The table and the mismatched chairs, your father had found at a fleamarked years ago, before you were born most likely, and they wore the wear and tear of years of use. 

Every available surface was covered in papers, and the wooden shelves on the wall dipped in the middle from the weight of the binders. When you were little you'd been afraid the wood would break in two, but they were still standing (hanging?) – maybe they'd stay like that for the rest of eternity for all you knew. Your father's office had only one desk, which made your job as occasional office manager and full-time problem solver, problematic. 

Your father would sit in his chair on one side, while you'd steal one of the mismatched chairs and occupy the other end. If you'd had your way, you wouldn't be working here. The timber business interested you just as much as your father was interested in the disco they played on the radio. "If it ain't the king of rock I don't want to hear it," he usually said and switched the channel. 

But the town was small, and no one was hiring. The summer after you'd finished high school you'd dreamt of moving to the city, but the money had been tight and your father needed you. At least the work, if your father didn't meddle, was relatively easy: answer the phone, type out the invoices and salaries, keep an eye on logistics, and make sure whatever breaks gets fixed. 

The radio hummed at a low volume, one of the singles from Tapestry, as you turned another page of your book. Leaning back in your father's office chair, you glanced at the clock over the door. He should be back by now. Just as the thought crossed your mind, the door swung open.

"Did you need something?" you asked, your book dipping down in your lap. 

Logan raised an eyebrow at you as he walked into the office on heavy steps, that damn cigar hanging out the side of his mouth. "Nice to see you too, princess," he poked jokingly, tugging at his gloves, one finger at a time, and tucking them into his leather belt. 

He sported the same outfit he usually wore; bootcut jeans, a white t-shirt under his flannel and a thicker wool-lined jacket. He must've been sweating in here with that on.

Autumn had claimed the trees and ground months ago, but this morning the frost had covered the ground and bit at the apples of your cheeks. Your breath had come out in swirling plumes when you'd locked yourself in this morning; the first glints of the sun peeking through the windows as it rose over the mountains. The first thing you'd done was crank the heater, and now as you approached midday, you'd shed your sweater long ago while the windows had fogged with condensation. 

The smallest of frowns tugged at your brows, as a heat prickled up your neck to your cheeks. Logan made you a little nervous– not in a bad way, but in a way where your thoughts would wander in his presence, conjuring up scenarios of him and yourself in… comprising positions. Okay, maybe it was in a bad way. But who could blame you when he walked around like that?

He'd arrived only a few months ago, at the tail end of the summer, looking for work. He was strong, stronger than any of the other men working for your father, and although the work was hard, it seemed like he never tired. You didn't know much about him and he kept mostly to himself, hidden away in a cabin up in the mountain, but sometimes you'd see him down at the local bar, nursing a glass of whiskey in one hand and a lit cigar in the other. More than once you'd seen him chatting up Kayla Silverfox, and more than once you'd wished it was you in her place.

"Oof," Logan groaned as he opened the fridge, grabbing his packed lunch and closing it as fast as he could. You appreciated him for that; whatever had died in there should stay in there.

"Yeah," you said, "I'm not cleaning that again, not even for a million bucks."

"Can't blame ya." 

He looked to the table for a second where the guys usually ate their lunches, before he decided to take your usual chair at your father's desk. As he sat down, you pushed the ash tray to his side of the desk, earning you a short smile in thanks as he rested his cigar. It wasn't unusual for him to talk to you on his breaks. 

So, why did you heart beat so fast in your chest?

Because it was the first time you'd been alone.

"So, where's your old man?" he asked and bit into the sandwich he'd packed in an old newspaper.

"Running errands– he should be back soon…" you trailed off.

Logan hummed non-committedly. "So, you're in here sittin' pretty readin' your book while we're out in the cold slavin' away– maybe I should become the boss' daughter."

"Well, it's not easy," you sighed, feigning confidence, "and you gotta be pretty first of all," you front teeth dug into your bottom lip as you tried to hide your nervousness.

"That's true," he grinned, "I ain't got nothin' on you, princess."

Logan held your gaze with intent, and it was like something in the air shifted. It happened sometimes with Logan, like he had this power beaming from him that sucked you in. Erratic wings fluttered in your stomach, and you had to drop your gaze.

"So, how's the book?" he asked, taking another bite of his sandwich.

"Eh," you shrugged, dog-earing the page your were on, before throwing the beat-up paperback on the table. "Too many plot twists– first they're on earth, then there's this virus spreading– so they have to move all of humanity to the moon, but then there's this species that lives under the surface of the moon who they start a war with, but one of the main characters are in love with a moonie– that's what they call them– so, now they're in love and trying to stop the war and…" you shrugged again.

Logan chewed slowly as he nodded his head. "Sounds complicated," he decided, making you let out a small laugh.

"I guess so."

A grin washed over Logan's face at your small laugh, and you felt his gaze roll over you, over your exposed skin. When he looked at you like that, like a predator drooling for a meal, you felt a small damp spot stick to your panties. You watched as his nostrils widened, his jaw clenching shut as a pulsing vein protruded from his neck.

"So, science fiction," he started, clearing his throat, "Didn't know you liked that," he continued between the last bites of his sandwich

"Some kid at the library recommended it," you shrugged, "so I thought I'd try it out. And it's not like it's that far from the truth– we've got mutants."

Logan crumbled the newspaper hard and quick, the sharp sound making you jump. "Yeah," he said, and stood to his feet, "That's true."

He grabbed his burnt out cigar, and threw the ball of newspaper in the trash. You started to wonder if you'd said something wrong, but then he said, "Your father's back," and not even a second later you could see your dad's old truck pull up outside the window.

How did he even know that? 

"Logan– wait," the words just fell out of your mouth before you could even think them through. He hovered by the door, raising a questioning eyebrow at you. 

You could be brave– Just say it! 

"Come by later would you? Before you leave for the day– I have something for you."

A gush of cold air blew in with the arrival of your father. He almost crashed right into Logan on his way out, nearly knocking him down the wooden steps. You thought you could glimpse a small nod from Logan, but he was out the door so fast you couldn't be sure. 

The rest of the day went by slowly as a growing anxiety gnawed at your neck. With your dad back you slipped out to borrow the car, driving into town to pick up some lunch at the local diner. It was routine at this point, something you did without thinking, but today your thoughts couldn't stay still. You were pulling up outside the office when you realized you'd driven the whole way with the radio off.

What was even your plan? 

You wished you were better at this. You could pretend, sure, put on a brave face to hide the nerves from surfacing, but how do you get a man like that to go for a girl like you?

You felt non the wiser when the sun had dipped below the mountains and he finally knocked on the office door. Your dad had left thirty-minutes earlier, stranding you at work with no way to get home. 

If this didn't go well, you didn't look forward to walking home.

"What 's it you wanted, princess," Logan asked, leaning against the frame of the door with one knee popped. Your eyes couldn't help but run down the length of him – his broad shoulders, the bulge hidden below his big belt buckle, and the veins of his exposed arms as he slung his jacket over his shoulder.

"Oh, um," you tried to shake your thoughts, and you rummaged the desk for the envelope. "Here," you said as you found it, stretching your hand out for him to take it.

He pushed off the door frame with a raised eyebrow, the cold air from the open door taking with it the warmth of the office. "What's this?" he questioned, taking the envelope from your hand. 

"It's your check– for this month's work," you explained.

His raised eyebrow pulled into a frown, "This is a week early," he questioned, "and I usually get these sent in the mail."

"Oh, I-I just thought I'd give it to you personally this time," you lied, fitting a shrug at the end for good measure, trying to sell how completely normal and nonchalant you were.

Logan raised a skeptic eyebrow at you, and you suddenly felt really really stupid. In your chest your heart could compete with a hummingbird's.

"Really?" he said with a smile before he dropped his chin, "Can I appreciate a little extra something in here, or…?" he trailed off, waving the envelope.

Letting out a shaky inaudible breath, you tried in your flirtiest voice, "Maybe if you give me a ride home…"

...................

The lights from the town below looked like stars scattered over the night sky, the yellow light of the roads connected them like on a string. You knew that Logan knew where you lived; the town was small, and even with the short time he'd spent here, it wasn't hard to get familiar. He'd stopped at the lookout point, about half-way up the mountain road. It was nice in the daytime, with a nice view of the town, the mountain and rivers, but at night it attracted a different kind of crowd: lovers. It was cheesy, and cliché, but clichés were clichés for a reason. 

The Led Zeppelin tape whirled, and the music stopped. 

Suddenly you felt nervous, fingers picking at a loose tread on your sweater. Logan leaned forward to flip the cassette, and his truck filled with a sound of organ, like you were back in church. When he leaned back he slung his arm over your seat. You watched how he spread his legs, getting comfortable, as his eyes found your face.

Under the wool, your heart picked up its beat.

In a brave move you shifted closer, the leather seat moaning under you, as a pleased smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. His big palm snaked around your shoulder, curling you closer to him until his lips caught your own. You only hesitated for a second before your hand found his neck, where your fingers tugged lightly at the hair at the nape of his neck. 

A low growl huffed against your lips, and he deepened the kiss, pressing himself roughly against you as he licked into your mouth. You couldn't help the small whimper escaping you. His touch was rough, almost impatient, but tender all at the same time, and you felt yourself fall apart.

The air stuck to your skin, clammy and sticky with arousal and now you started to get impatient. With a loud smack you broke apart, your lips raw and spent from use as you caught your breath. A rough hand cupped your cheek, the pad of his thumb skated gently over your skin as he tilted your head towards him.

"Such a pretty little thing," he mused. His eyes had gone dark, pupils huge and filled with lust; yours must've looked about the same as they rolled down his body. He shifted closer to you, pushing you closer to the door, and you got a better view of the bulge hidden behind his jeans.

Your heartbeat pounded in your ears, clogging up the sounds around you like you were underwater, pushing at your thoughts at the back of your mind. Logan moved with such ease, each touch natural and easy, like he'd done them a thousand times. Not like you, with only your short-lived high school boyfriend under your belt. 

"Hey," he shook your head gently, "Where you goin', bub?"

"I'm sorry," you whispered, a heat coating the apples of your cheeks. 

He shook his head, his face surprisingly tender for someone so rough, "Tell me, baby."

"I'm just…" you trailed of, trying to find your words, "I'm a little nervous– I haven't done this much," you said, avoiding his gaze.

"That's sweet, bub." The pad of his thumb rubbed the pet name into your skin as he leaned forward to catch your lips in a soft kiss, "But I wouldn't worry that pretty little head of yours 'bout it."

His breath was hot against your own, and an ache started to spread between your legs. The hand on your cheek travelled downwards to tug at your jacket, and you parted only for a second to rid yourself of it, but before you could lock your lips with his again he grabbed at your hands.

"I'll teach ya," he told you and guided your hands to his broad form. 

He let you touch him as he shucked off his jacket, your fingers dancing over the soft flannel. He was solid beneath your fingers, hard muscles from hard work. A patch of dark hair curled at his chest, peeking out beneath his white shirt, and you found yourself wondering where it lead.

Curling his hand around your wrist, he guided your hand lower; down over his chest where you could feel the solid form of him. His bronze belt buckle burned you like ice, but the heat of him as he pressed your hand to the hard bulge beneath the buckle burned even brighter.

"You feel that?" He looked you straight in the eyes. He pressed your hand down harder and you could feel the shape of him against your hand, hard and thick, and big. You barely managed a nod through the wave of heat coating your cheeks. 

"That's because of you, princess." His voice was low, almost like a growl, as he started to guide your hand to rub over the thick length.

"Me?" you questioned, breathless. 

"Yes, you," he chuckled, a heavy hand petting at your head. "D'you want to take it out? Stroke it f'me?"

"Please," you begged, looking at him with moony eyes through your lashes.

"So polite f'me," he mused, his hands tugging at his belt before he popped the button on his jeans. Slipping off your shoes, you crawled up into the seat, sitting back on your knees as you watched him pull at his jeans. Peeking out from under the denim, you could see a dark patch of hair.

Logan was in no rush, revealing only an inch at a time of the base of his cock, making a show of it as the tension rose. A wave of tickling arousal washed over you, and it made you brave, reaching a trembling hand forward, you helped him tug at the fabric.

At last his cock sprung free.

You felt your eyes widen at the sight, as you involuntarily squeezed your thighs together. Even with your limited experience, you knew he was bigger than most. The thick length of his cock bobbed from the weight, hanging heavy between his legs. At the tip of his fat head, a drop of precum pearled, almost invisible in the dark truck. 

"Come here, bub." He widened his legs as he reached out a strong arm for you, curling you into his shoulder. 

"Put your hand on it," he ordered, "like this," he grabbed at your wrist and guided you hand towards his mouth. You let him move you around, eyes blown out and wide as you couldn't take your eyes off his impressive cock. 

A wet blob of spit pulled you from your thoughts, it drew the slightest frown over your face until he guided your palm, now coated in his spit, to his cock.

Under your palm his skin was silky soft, but hard and firm at the same time. You found yourself mesmerized at the sight of your hand around him as you familiarized yourself with the heaviness of him in your hand. 

"There ya go–" he cut himself off with a groan as you formed a fist around the head of him. Your fingers struggled to reach around him, but it didn't seem like Logan minded much when you moved downwards smearing his spit over his shaft in an experimental tug. 

"That's it, good girl, just like that."

A warmth bloomed in your chest at the praise, wrapping itself around your heart. You wanted him to say it again– to be good for him. So, you reached forward with your other hand, wrapping it around the base as the other formed a fist around the head. Another pearl of precum beaded at the tip, and you took the opportunity to skate your thumb over it, massaging it into his spit.

A growl seemed to get caught in Logan's throat, and still riding off your high that the praise had sown in you, you started to pump his cock in slow strokes. A slick sound escaped under your fists with each stroke, and you watched how his head fell back in pleasure.

"Am-am I doing it right?" you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

At the sound of your voice, Logan sat up straighter, a heavy hand falling over your back to pull you closer. "You're a natural, princess."  

You couldn't contain the smile from coating your lips as he brought you in for another searing kiss. It was hot, and suffocating, and all-consuming, all at the same time. It clouded your mind, and you forgot what your hands were supposed to be doing. 

Logan's hand travelled down your body, his big palm grabbing at your ass. "Take of your pants," he ordered against your lips, "Panties too," underlining his order with a couple of light slaps to the flesh.

Shuffling out of his hold, you fingered at the button of your pants, pulling at them and your panties as quickly as you could. Goosebumps prickled over your exposed skin, the air suddenly frosty without Logan's touch – but that didn't last long.

The calloused pads of his fingers trailed up your thighs, pressing down into the flesh as he pulled you closer to him. "Come sit in my lap, princess."

He didn't wait for you to move, instead he manhandled you how he wanted. Spreading his legs wide apart he fit you between his legs, your back pressed against his hot chest with his hard and leaking cock caged against your ass. 

"I'm gonna touch you now, baby, okay?" his deep voice whispered in your ear.

"Okay," you peeped, heart pounding in your ears at this new proximity. 

He spread your legs, putting your wet and neglected cunt on display, hooking them over his knees. When his palms danced over your inner thighs, you felt yourself sink deeper into his chest, deeper into the safe scent of pine and man. 

"Need to get you ready f'me, bub– stretch this tight cunt out for my big cock," he cooed.

You ached for him, a sticky wet feeling between your legs as you wished so badly for him to finally touch you. His touch was light, but teasing, drawing circles along the thin flesh, circling closer and closer to where you needed his touch the most, before he pulled away. 

"Please," you whined, grabbing at his arm.

His breath felt hot against your neck, and you could feel the grin he pressed against your skin. He let you guide him upwards to hover his large palm over your mound, but he wouldn't let you have it. Instead, he pushed at your sweater. His hand spread across the skin beneath your belly button as prickled goosebumps followed the rough pads as they ran across your skin.

"Y'gonna feel me right here, bub?" he teased, "So deep inside your tummy?"

A whine caught in your throat and you felt like an exposed nerve. Arousal pulsated throughout your body, threatening to pull you apart unless he did something soon. Your neglected cunt dripped with an ache only he could sooth. 

"Yes, please, Logan," you whined, tears threatening to spill.

His thick beard scraped against your cheek, and you almost trembled from anticipation as he slid his hands downwards. He raked his fingers through the curls of your mound, and a gasp fell from your lips when he finally pushed at your clit.

A wide smile reached across your face when he started to circle his fingers, tight with the perfect amount of pressure. Your hips bucked to meet his touch, your cunt eager and dripping for more of him. His other arm clasped around your middle, keeping your still and steady in his lap as he had his way with you.

A bold finger dipped lower, running through your folds and teasing at you entrance. A slick sound filled the car as he played with your cunt, circling his fingers around your hole, dipping a teasing finger inside you just to the first knuckle, before withdrawing it just as quickly. 

"Such a messy pussy," Logan murmured in your ear, the deep bass of his voice vibrating into your skin. "Listen."

The sound as he played with your pussy was obscene, lewd, and so dirty you felt a heat crawl up your chest. A breathy gasp escaped you when he finally split you on his finger, and a satisfied smile coated your lips as he started to move it inside in a steady rhythm, prodding every so often at that spongy spot inside, the spot your own finger couldn't reach.

"F-feels s-so good," you managed to stutter out. 

The heel of his palm pressed against your clit with every thrust, teasing at your insides and conjuring moan after breathy moan from your lips. He guided you closer and closer to the edge, and you wanted so badly to fall. When he pulled out to slide another finger inside you, you felt a tear roll down your cheek with satisfaction.

"I can feel that pussy clenching me– you close, bub?" he poked, never stopping his fingers.

Your head rolled back, resting heavy on his shoulder as you nodded franticly, mouth parted slightly, humming out small breathy whines. You were so close, the tension in your stomach twisting and aching for release.

But then he pulled his fingers, dragging them up over your mound leaving a wet trail in your curls. You couldn't help the disappointed sigh as more tears pressed their way down your cheeks.

"Shh," he hushed you, "you're okay, bub." 

Under you, you felt him move, his strong muscles flexing as he shifted you on his lap. When you felt the blunt head of his cock slide between your folds, an eagerness came upon you. You grinded against him, making a small chuckle rumble from his chest. Logan slapped his heavy cock against your folds, coating his big cock in your slick arousal. 

The first stretch of him knocked the breath right out of you, the fat tip of him splitting you in half as he helped you guide yourself down on him. You had to remember to breathe, your hand fumbling for something to hold on to. 

"Fuck," you whimpered, eyes wide, "I-it's so big– it's t-too big."

His hand wrapped around your middle held you in place, keeping you still on his cock as you adjusted to the first inches of him inside you. 

"It's not too big, princess, you're doing so well f'me," he praised, "just a little more, bub– you can do it."

With a wet whimper you lowered yourself, taking a couple more inches of him, as Logan pressed more fluttering praise into your skin. He let you take your time, easing yourself down on him at your own pace. When your thighs were finally flushed with his, he was so deep inside you, you jolted, trying to move back up, but Logan's hands held you down. You felt him in your tummy, like he'd said, his cock reaching so deep you were shaking.

"Sit still, get used to it," he told you, as you tried to catch your breath, "You're being so good f'me."

And somehow the burning stretch of him soothed away into a pleasurable pressure, one you couldn't help but chase. With an experimental rock of your hips, you felt the fat head of him prod at your spot, making you mewl. And when you started to swivel your hips, Logan groaned in satisfaction, meeting your movement with small thrusts.

Slowly, he picked up his rhythm, strong hands shifted to dig into your hips, holding you in place for him to move you as he wished. In your ear, you heard him growl, deep and animalistic as he fucked up into you.

It didn't take long until your breath came out fast between moans as the pressure built, and built, and built. 

"Logan," you moaned, tethering right on the edge.

Another growl escaped his chest, as his strong arms hooked under your legs. He pressed them tightly to your body as he picked up his pace, bucking wildly into your eager cunt. You could feel him throb inside of you, and you couldn't help but clench at the thought of feeling him spill inside you, claiming you.

"Don't stop, please, don't stop," you begged, tears streaming down your face like two winding rivers, "I-I'm gonna come."

A hand slid between your legs to rub at your puffy clit, coaxing you closer and closer with winding circles. 

"Come on my cock, baby, come all over that big cock."

It was hot, and blinding. Euphoric shocks pulsed through your body, as you fluttered and gushed around his cock. Logan's grip on your legs tightened as you shook violently with your orgasm – a million stars exploded behind your eyes.

"Oh, that's it, bub, such a good girl," he praised between heavy wet pants against your ear.    

Fucking you through your ecstasy, Logan chased his own high at a relentless pace, and all you could do was take it, reduced to a ragdoll in his hands. In your ear he muttered nonsense interlaced with praise, telling you how good you felt, and how perfect you were for him.

With a deep groan he pulled out quickly, tugging at himself until he spilled his thick spend on the truck floor. With bleary eyes you watched how it pumped in quick spurts, dripping down his hand and soiled the knuckles in his own sticky cum. 

Behind you, Logan breathed hard, nudging his nose against the column of your neck to press soft kisses to the hot skin. 

A pair of bright headlights beamed down the road, pulling you from the moment with its blinding light. Logan helped you shift off his lap, reaching to hand you your discarded clothes before he tucked himself back into his jeans. 

The cassette whirled in the car radio, and you couldn't remember when the music had stopped. Logan shifted back behind the wheel and an eerie silence grew in the distance between you.

"How 'bout I take you somewhere to eat?" he posed.

You smiled, "I could eat."

...................

hopefully this was okay? a comment telling me your favorite part is always welcome, and my ask box is always open to chat <3 and thank you for reading!!

© shellshocklove, 2024 i do not give any permission to repost, translate, feed to AI or redistribute any of my writing, with or without credit!

[emphistic]

Pucker Up, Buttercup

"Ugh, this is so humiliating," Sukuna remarked, as you continued to do various stupid and silly poses for the camera.

Click!

You nudged him with your elbow, "C'mon, old man. Lighten up! It's a photo booth, now smile for the camera!" You used both of your index fingers to force Sukuna's lips into a smile — it ended up just making him look more menacing, as his canines stuck out.

Click!

For this next one, you moved impossibly closer to Sukuna. You gripped his jaw in your palm and pressed your lips on his cheek. Sukuna immediately flushed, and fortunately for you, the camera caught that.

Click!

Swiftly, you pulled away. "Last one, 'Kuna. Make this worthwhile and actually pose," you couldn't deny the fact you were annoyed by Sukuna's behavior right now. This photo booth did not charge nicely and Sukuna wasn't even bothering to pose or even smile.

You prepared to just flash a simple smile at the camera, but Sukuna had other plans in mind. He grabbed your face — a little roughly, but it's Sukuna, so what do you expect — and captured your lips in his, taking your breath away. For a moment, you remained stunned, before melting into the kiss. Your lashes fluttered just as the camera shuttered once more.

Click!

Sukuna tasted of the cherry flavored snow-cone he had had before entering the photo booth with you. His hand met the back of your neck and tangled itself in your hair.

The both of you remained like that, even after the last picture was taken. Neither of you moved away, until a worker had to stick their head in the booth and kick you guys out. You blushed sheepishly; but Sukuna just shrugged, pushing aside the curtain and heading out. You followed suit.

Sukuna collected the photos from the worker before you exited after him, and stuffed them in his hoodie pocket. The wind was strong outside. Consequently, you brushed a strand of hair away from your face.

Sukuna stood with his hands in the pockets of his jeans, mindlessly kicking rocks and pebbles, before he looked up and met your gaze.

"The fair's closing in a few minutes. We should get going."

"Right," you agreed. So was he just going to act like nothing ever happened in that booth?

As you two walked on the cement, the silence grew loud. So loud. . . Until Sukuna couldn't take it any longer, "I told you wearing that outfit wouldn't do you any good. Look at you, your whole body's shaking."

"Hmph, well — at least I look fabulous. A jacket would just ruin the look, y'know?"

"No, I don't know, actually." Sukuna pulled his sweater over his head and helped you put it on.

When you finally stopped shivering, you attached yourself to Sukuna's arm. What the hell? How was he still warm after he gave you his jacket?

"What's wrong with your body?" You laughed.

Sukuna rolled his eyes.

"Anyways," he started, out of the blue, "someone needs to teach you how to kiss, you're terrible. But — don't worry, I'll help you learn. Every single day."

"Oh my God!" You swatted at his chest, "You're actually insufferable." Sukuna's booming laughter reverberated.

Taglist: @starlets-things @sad-darksoul @mochimoee

[screampied]

HELLLOOOOOOO i really love ur drabbles so muchhh 🫶🏻🫶🏻 reall fun to read tehee

if its okay can you do like a dad’s best friend higuruma? Where higuruma cares for reader more than her own father did (i have daddy issues) and always tries to comfort her by having sex </3 (if u can maybe like a soft dom hiromi as he always gives her praises and sweet words?)

dont force yourself okayyy? remember to always take a break! Love youuu 💐

❤︎ ໋𓈒 dad’s best friend trope w higuruma <3

warnings. fem! reader, praise, cowgirl, soft dom higuruma, mdni.

an. thank uuu love u too !!!

you never knew you’d take such a strong liking towards your father’s best friend and trusty colleague, higuruma hiromi.

he always gave you the attention you were neglected — it started off with simple gestures, small talk . .

asking about your day, complimenting your outfits, or even going to run errands with you. although, it was always his sweet praises towards you that you were never used to. all you wanted was to be told that you were good, doing something right, and he always gave that to you.

higuruma never failed to take his time with you, even while you were in his bed. he was so sweet, big hands of his traced down the sides of your hips, your curves . . warm breath fanning against your skin, kiss after kiss. “you adore my praises, don’t you, princess?”

“y-yes,” you’d sniffle, feeling your heart throb. you’d be leaning against his chest, cock buried into you and it’s so good.

his words ran straight towards your heart…

or perhaps it went towards another place, specifically in between your thighs.

he’s so tender, marking your neck with a plethora of invisible kiss marks, which turns into sucking overtime.

your lips press and smother together as you subdue a single incoming moan, his body heat against yours had you burning up. just craving for more of his touch. “h-hiromi, ‘m gonna cum again.”

“you think you’re gonna cum or you know, baby?” he murmurs, skimming a thumb beside your waist. the way his hands gingerly roamed all over your body.

you faced the other direction as you rode him, a hand grips on his knee as a tiny whimper escapes past your lips. it was a firm simple question—yet he didn’t expect you to answer.

“oh sweetheart,” he coos, a soft low chortle tickling against your right earlobe before he gives it a kiss. “you’re not used to being told how good you are, are you?”

“no,” you moaned, feeling him then bring both hands to grip onto your waist, softly rocking your hips in place against him.

so…slow.

you stabilize your knees for a brief moment. he’s making you rut back against him before he pecks another kiss near the inner part of your collarbone.

“sorry if it’s dumb, just—i just really like being told that i’m doing something good . . for once.”

a smile presses against his lips as your hips tilt and stutter against him.

“but you’ve always been a good girl, at least whenever you’re with me,”

he hums, playfully tapping his fingers amongst your skin—you moan, chasing another incoming orgasm and you glance down to see your thigh bob and ricochet against his own leg.

higuruma’s dick had your eyes rolling…it was simply addicting. the way he’d brush up amongst that individual spot, you whine out a shaky moan before your hand finds his.

“…just relax, okay? if it makes you feel any better, i’ll praise you right until you make a mess on me, princess.”

“okay,” you’d whimper, feeling him bring you back and forth beside him. he’s so slow and precise, you feel every inch and it makes your mouth water. you lie back against higuruma’s chest, and he plants a kiss near the top of your forehead. you can’t remember the last time you felt so cherished.

a hand of his was flat on your torso, whilst another one slings around you. you moan, feeling it reach its incoming peak, you bite your lip.

“don’t hide your voice, i wanna hear you, princess,” he’d murmur, dragging your hand away from your mouth - you pouted, and he simpers, leaning in to give your cheek a soft kiss.

his rhythm, it wasn’t hard to follow. you’re rocking your hips sturdy against him before you start to impatiently grind.

you moan, feeling higuruma’s hand softly wrap around your throat, a thumb stroking your passageway before he whispers, “c’mon baby, give me another one. think you can do that?”

“yes, okay, okay,” you’d babble, and he’s so deep, stirring all around you—you throw your head back against him, mouth open, lips barely parted while you feel the nerves coarse inside of you. “fuck, hiromi, ‘m gonna cum s-so soon.”

“it’s okay, give it to me princess,” he murmured, making your hips slow down just a bit with a soft tug of his hands. you shivered a bit, feeling the band of his watch skim across your hips before you start to spasm. he watches with warm eyes, leaning in to kiss all beside your neck, your ear, and then you whine. “i know, i know. you’re doing so good already.”

the moment you came, it was sticky and like always, you slump back against higuruma. your legs trembled and quavered - sucking your teeth, your breath was so shaky.

he smiles at your body’s reaction — witnessing how sensitive you were, and he slides a thumb against the hairs near the nape of your neck before whispering. “such a good girl,” before hugging your waist. “do you . . do you think you have one more in you, princess?”

[spookysteddie]

That Friday Night

Modern!Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Influencer!fem!reader

read part one here

18+ MINORSDNI

cw: alcohol, drugs (weed and cocaine), clubbing, slight Dom!Eddie if you squint, possessive!Eddie, swearing, pet names, oral (fem!receiving), light choking, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, edging, creampie. (let me know if I missed anything)

wc: 4.3k (I'm so sorry)

a/n: First of all, I want to thank every single person who liked, reblogged or made comments about part one. I was shitting myself posting it because (like I said) this is not an original thought. I'd read a few and it gave me this wave of inspiration. I am very proud of this part. It's also a little long (sorry sorry sorry I couldn't stop) . Also I don't think I'll be doing a tag list? When I used to do that no one on the list would like the fic and it was a lot of work. I hope that is okay? Let me know if you want more! I love and appreciate all of you!

...

You weren’t the type of person who got shy. Your entire job is being in front of a camera, telling people what you like, what you wear, the type of music you listen to. You did brand deals and went on lots of trips with people you didn’t know. Public interaction was easy for you and you definitely enjoyed it. 

But being personally invited to your favorite band's concert (even if you had tickets already) as their frontman's personal guest? It makes you weak in the knees. 

Telling your team about the phone call went about as good as one would expect. Anna and Case frown at you while continuing to say ‘you could’ve let it go to voicemail and we could’ve handled it directly with his people. AND why did you have him send the information directly to you?’

They weren't necessarily wrong in being upset. There were plenty of ways a conversation like that could be twisted and fucked with, especially if, for whatever reason, someone was recording the phone call. It was very easy for them to manipulate and edit that kind of shit, and drama was the last thing you wanted. 

However, the rest of the week went by without an issue. The gossip magazines had moved on to something else (though there were a few who continued to speculate about your non-relationship with Eddie. You did your deals, and kept yourself busy. And by the time Friday rolled around you were hardly nervous. 

Or that’s what you kept telling yourself. 

“Bell bottom star pants. Absolutely,” Hana says from her place on your bathroom counter, practically in the sink. “With that black leather top you love AND the red leather jacket. Oh! Oh! Oh! And the red boots!” 

You put the outfit on, looking in the mirror, “you don’t think it’s too… stereotypical?” 

Hana looks at you through the mirror, “no such thing. You look great.” 

Hana was one of the few people in your life who’d tell you like it is. You could trust her to tell you if her gut feelings were off, or on. She was your best friend and one of the few people who weren’t just here for the exposure. She’s here to be your cheerleader and you were hers. 

“Alright, let's get this going before I change my mind which I am two seconds away from doing.” 

… 

You should’ve changed your mind. 

You can hardly keep from throwing up as you're led by security to a private entrance. To get there you have to pass by their tour buses. All you can hear is loud music and whooping from inside. It’s clear they’re running around in there as the bus is rocking and all you can do is pray they don’t see you. 

You’re far too sober for the interaction you’ll be having at this current time. 

Unfortunately for you, the universe hates you. Just when you think you’re home free, the door opens, almost smacking you in the face. 

“Don’t think you can get away that easy, Asher,” Eddie says as he looks down at you. His pupils are blown wide, clearly from whatever drug he’s consumed. More than likely cocaine and weed. His words aren’t slurred so he isn’t drunk, though he does have a beer bottle in his large hands. 

God his hands, there have been many times where you’d imagine them wrapped around your throat, cutting off air as he fucks you like he hates you. You bet he could reach you even as he’s eating you out, he’s so tall and long. 

You wish you could say the grin you shoot at him is fake, however with the way he’s looking at you, like he wants to devour and smother you, it's not. You feel like a fucking school girl who has a crush. Your heart pounds so fast in your chest and you swear everyone around you can hear it. 

“We weren’t running away,” you say, voice a little breathier than you’d like. “Um this is my best friend-” 

“Hana, nice to meet you,” he cuts you off. It’s then that you see his eyes get wide and you know he’s been stalking your profile. Not that you can say anything because you’ve done it… a lot. “I, uh, saw the instagram story you put up earlier.” 

Hana smirks, “sure you did, big boy.” She pats his chest and is clearly much braver than you. That’s another thing about you and her, if one of you is feeling not confident, the other makes up for it. Like, on your own, asking for ketchup feels like cutting off a limb, but if she can't do it then it's up to you and vice versa. 

Eddie scratches the back of his neck, his black t-shirt stretching over his wide shoulder, “want to join us? We have alcohol!” 

“We would love that. Wouldn’t we?” Hana looks down at you with her brows raised, still taller than you in heels. 

You nod, “yes. Yeah absolutely! Are we allowed to photograph in here?” 

You know it’s a stupid thing to ask, but you also don’t want to take a photo of you and Hana and then not be able to post it. And what if you get photos with the rest of the band? Everyone already knows you’re going to be here. Just not… in this tour bus. 

Eddie nods, holding out his hand, “you are allowed to do whatever you want, pretty girl. And if anyone has an issue, send them my way, yeah?” He kisses the hand you’ve placed in his before leading you up the stairs of his bus. 

It's chaos in there, pure and utter chaos. You turn to look at Hana, silently telling her how insane this is. She nods slightly, but you see the grin on her face. Hana loves this stuff; the parties, the madness, all of it.

Eddie introduces you to the band, pulling you in closer by the waist. “You all need to be on your best behavior. No one touches her. Do you all understand me?” Your heart flutters at how serious he is and it instantly forces his bandmates eyes to fall to your feet. It’s impressive, actually. 

Suddenly, a bottle of beer is in your hands, passed to you by Eddie. “Oh… thank you.” You can hardly look at him as a small smile forms on your lips. His attention makes you feel all kinds of funny inside, your stomach doing flips. You know you have to look at him eventually, but he’s just so pretty that it actually hurts. 

“Um, so are you excited for your show?” This time you manage to actually drag your eyes to his. He smiles at you, his teeth so beautiful and perfect. It’s when he sits down that you realize that was a stupid question. Of course he’s excited. This is his actual job. 

He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees as he looks up at you through his lashes, you could kiss him. But you don’t for obvious reasons. Reasons you can't really think of at the moment. Not when he’s looking at you like that.  The beer bottle hangs in his right hand between his legs. 

“Very. Not much comes close to the feeling I get when we’re on that stage.” He shakes his head, curly hair moving with him, “plus, being able to hear people sing my songs back to me is fucking incredible.” 

His hand finds yours, pulling you a little closer. Eddie is testing the waters, you know this. Unfortunately for you, your brain can’t see through the cloud of lust. So, you let him pull you closer, sit you on his lap, and wrap an arm around you. 

Your brain does catch up, quicker than expected. “It seems like it’d be incredible. I applaud you cause I could never do that. I have stage fright.” 

He blinks up at you, “stage fright? Haven’t you done red carpet interviews and stuff?” 

You shift a little, shrugging, “well yes. But that’s different.” You can't stop the awkward laugh that comes out of you. It was true, it was different. You weren’t exactly sure why but it was. 

Eddie's thumb moves along your side slightly and it leaves goosebumps in its wake. 

“I’m being honest, the lights are so bright that I can’t see everyone in the crowds. Mainly just the front rows. Makes it easier.” 

Eddie puts his beer bottle on the ground by his feet before sitting up and grabbing a joint. He’s quiet as he lights it, puffing out smoke to get it going. “Want some?” 

He holds the joint towards you, waiting for your answer. You’ve done this before at the frat houses at college. You’ve done it here and there in high school as well. This is second nature, but this time you’re nervous. What if you forget how to inhale? What if you throw up? Any number of things can happen. 

Something happens inside you and your brain finally catches up to itself. A small stroke of confidence happens and without taking your eyes off of him, you lean forward, wrapping your lips around the joint and inhaling. His eyes stay locked on yours, his tongue wetting his lips. You pull back, slowly blowing out the smoke. 

“Fuckin’ hell.” It comes out in a whisper and you know he didn’t mean to say it out loud. His eyes falling from your eyes, to your lips and back again. 

God you want to kiss him. His pillowy lips would feel amazing against yours, you just know it. You start to lean into him, desperate to know if you’re right.   

A bang on the door scares the fuck out of the both of you and Eddies boot knocks over his bottle. It’s a good thing he drank most of it, the contents not spilling on the plush carpet. 

“Let’s get going guys. Put your dicks back in your pants, we have a show to do.” You know that voice, that’s their manager. He’s the one who called your people to make sure you had all the rules for this evening. 

Photos are fine. 

Everyone must be tagged. 

Nothing negative. 

Absolutely no photos of any white substances. Even if it’s sugar. 

That last one would be hard considering it was on every flat surface in neat, clean lines. 

You go to stand up, but Eddie stops you, his hand tightening on your hip. “Promise I’ll see ya after?” 

You nod, “y-yeah of course.” 

Before you know it, his lips are on yours. The kiss is soft, sweet and you don’t want it to end. In fact, you totally forget about all the other people in the room. Your hands find his face, pulling him closer as his tongue begs for permission. And once you grant it, it’s game over. 

He tastes like beer and weed and cigarettes and you love it. You want more. You want to get closer. 

But it’s not long before the door to his trailer opens up, his manager stepping into the bus. “I said get your dicks and tongues together. We cannot be late.” 

… 

By the time the show is over you barely have a voice, and you’re sure you’ve never been more turned on in your life. It might seem silly to say, but Eddie's kiss lingered the entire show and all you want is more. 

Back stage the band is still running on adrenaline, drinking water for once to try and refuel for the rest of the night. The rest of the night being a club that they frequent. A club you don’t go to because of that exact reason. 

“Ohhhhh! There's the prettiest girls I’ve ever laid eyes on!” Eddie's voice booms as security goes to double check you and Hana. “Hey! Leave them alone. They’re with me.” 

Security stands back, hands raise like he knows it’ll cause more issues if he doesn’t. You almost feel bad for the poor guy, he was just trying to do his job. Like what if you had a bomb or something? 

“C’mon we gotta get outta here.” He laces his fingers with yours before he pulls you along with him. You look over your shoulder, catching Hana's eyes. 

Go! She mouths, hanging off Gareth's arm. I’ll meet you there! 

And so, you go. Are you nervous? Yes absolutely. Are you going to pretend you aren’t and have some confidence? Yes. Fake it till you make it right?

Eddie opens the door to the car, extending a hand, “ladies first.” 

You grin at him as you elegantly slide into the car, “wow. I didn’t know you were such a gentle man.” This time when you giggle, it's cute and self assured. 

“Yes, I have been told my entire life that I look,” he slides in sucking in a soft, thinking breath, “mean and scary.” 

“You look like a doberman but they’re precious babies.” You mean it too. He looks a little mean and scary, especially in the red lights of the stage. Not to mention the “devil music” (says the media) which can get a little dark. But that’s what makes it great, in your opinion. Plus, he does look like doberman. Like he could probably kill you but would actually not? 

“‘Precious babies?’” 

You nod, “mhm! I grew up with them. Very sweet and love kisses. Oh! And they each had their own comfort toys.” 

“Then maybe I am one because I do love kisses.” He’s closer now, his breath fanning over your face. He still smells like beer and cigarettes mixed in with the smell of his cologne. 

It’s your turn to close the gap and planting your lips on his. The kiss is hotter, more intense. One could argue it’s because of the alcohol swimming in your system that makes you so bold. You’re buzzed, but not drunk. It isn’t long before his hands are in your hair, tugging. It makes you moan in his mouth, opening up to him. 

He sits back, his hands in your hair pulling you with him, making you sit in his lap. Your legs rest on either side of his hips, your cunt nestled right against the bulge in his pants. He couldn’t hide it even if he wanted to. You test the waters by rocking your hips, the friction being so sweet that you’re the one who lets out a moan. 

“God, that is the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.” He kisses down your neck, nipping and sucking as he goes. “Should record it and use it in our next song.” 

You hum and grin, “I wouldn’t mind that. Always wanted to be in a song. Can’t sing though.”  

He nips at your ear, “that’s my job baby.” 

Eddie's large hand grips your hips, stopping your movements. You want to whine, you want to protest. You were so fucking close. 

“We’ll save that for when we're back at my place.” 

You grin and kiss along his jaw, “who says I’m going back to your place?” 

“The way you were just grindin’ against my cock, angel.” He grins, “also with how you’re lookin’ at me.” 

“And how am I looking at you? Hmm?” 

“Like you want me to fuck you while your brain leaks out your cunt.” 

You shudder at the crudeness of his words. No one has ever spoken to you like that and looked like him. The car stopping in front of the club saves you from trying to come up with an answer. One you know will either be embarrassing or non-existent. 

He looks over at the paparazzi that is waiting and sighs, “are we going in together or…” 

The decision you make is quick. If you’re going to do this, even for one night, you’re going to do it together and let them talk. You give him a quick kiss, “together. Give ‘em something to talk about, yeah?” 

So, you do. 

The second you’re out of the car, cameras flash and photographers call out a mix of your name and his and you can hardly understand what they’re saying. You don’t stop to pose, letting them only photograph you and him walking hand and hand. Give them crumbs as your manager says. Once you’re in the club, not even needing to show an ID or give a name. 

From there the night happens in a blur. The band has the VIP section where bottles of expensive liquor are brought over by women dressed in a bikini. You know how much all of this costs (more than you can afford that’s for sure) but you also know that all of this is on Eddie and the bands tab. He’s told you six times. 

So you drink. And you smoke. And you watch pretty white lines disappear, most of which disappear up Eddie's nose. Of course you take videos, vlogging your night and making sure to follow all the rules that were set prior to this meeting. Taking photos to remember the night. Hana is having a blast, taking shots like it’s her job and making out with Gareth in between. Of course she takes photos with you, sitting in your lap and giggling so much the photos come out blurry. But those are your favorite kinds of photos. 

“Dance with me?” Eddie says in your ear over the music. 

You take the shot that is in your hands, “lead the way.” 

The second you’re surrounded by sweaty bodies you feel invisible. You’re sure someone has cameras on you and him but at the moment you don’t care. 

Your hips move to the music, back against Eddie's chest while his hands explore your body. His lips move against your neck, sucking a dark mark into it that you know you’ll struggle to cover later. Again, you don’t care. What you do care about is the hardness that you feel against your back. 

You spin around, grinning up at him. God he’s so fucking tall you have to tilt your head up a good bit to look at him. 

“We should get out of here,” you say as he pulls you into him. 

He smirks, “thought you weren’t coming back to my place sweetheart.” 

“Seems I told a fib. Now, I need you to take me home and fuck me like you hate me.” 

It’s all he needs before he’s grabbing you by the hand and pulling you out of the club. The car is there and he quickly pulls you into the back seat. Once those doors are closed, the window tint so dark you couldn’t see inside if you tried, his mouth his on yours. Your stomach flips and the neediness you feel coming off of him. He pulls you till you’re straddling him, legs on either side of his hips. Not really the safest but at this point, all you need is his lips on you. 

The ride to Eddie’s consists of lots of kissing, so much so that you know your lips are swollen. You don’t get to see much of Eddie’s house, too focused on getting inside the house and into his bedroom. He drags you up the stairs, your hand is his. And once you’re in his room, he has you pressed up against his bedroom door. 

“You’re so fucking hot, baby.” Eddie pushes your jacket off your shoulders while he speaks, his words going straight to your clit. Your mind can barely comprehend that Eddie Munson, the man you’ve had a crush on since they were considered an ‘underground band,’ is currently taking off your clothes. 

You do the same to him, pushing his leather jacket to the ground before tugging at the ends of his shirt and pulling it over his head. “Me? You are so beautiful.” 

He hums, popping the button on your jeans, “should we take a poll on who's prettier? Winner takes the loser on a date?” 

That makes you laugh, “sounds like a deal. But first, you need to fuck me.” 

His eyes nearly go black at that and before you can think, he’s throwing you on this bed. You land with a small oomph. You decide to take a little initiative, pulling off your boots, scooting off your pants and pulling off your top. 

Eddie watches, rapt and almost possessed, his eyes scanning your partially naked body. It’s not anything more than someone would see if you posted in a bathing suit, but you can’t help but feel nervous that he isn’t going to like you. 

He quickly puts those fears (fears he knows nothing about) to rest as he settles between your legs. His eyes don’t leave yours as he kisses up your thighs. You know there is a wet patch on your underwear and you know he can see it. You do feel embarrassed about it, but at the same time, Eddie is slightly rutting against the bed so he must like it. Right? 

You can feel your body heat as he gets closer and closer to your center. 

“Eddie, please don’t tease me.” Never have you begged a man. Typically whoever you were in bed with did the begging, much to your dislike. You were desperate for someone to take charge. Now you know why they didn’t. One bruise and they get shit from all your followers. Even if you tell them to leave these men alone. 

But Eddie? He wasn’t afraid. 

“But it’s so much fun to watch you squirm.” 

You huff, squirming exactly like he said as he sits up to pull your underwear down your legs before setting back between them. “Need you to touch me.” 

He licks a stripe up your slit, sucking on your clit as he gets to the top. The sound that falls from your lips is beautiful, sweeter than the sound you made in the car. Now Eddie really wants to put you in a song, but the jealous, primal side of him never wants someone else to be able to hear your moans. 

In fact, he doesn’t want to think about any of the other men who’ve heard you make these sounds. Murder wasn't really on his list of things he enjoyed. Bar fights? Yes. Murder? No. 

“You make the prettiest sounds, sweetheart. S’very hot.”  He slides two fingers inside you with little resistance, curling them up to hit the spongy spot inside you. The stretch feels good, your hips moving on their own, riding Eddie's fingers. 

You're close, the build up of this moment really getting closer than you originally thought. “Squeezin’ my fingers so tight, baby. Are you close?” 

You nod, afraid if you speak you’ll say something ridiculous. 

But that isn’t good enough for Eddie. “Words.” 

“V-very.” 

That was clearly the wrong thing to say because he pulls his fingers from inside you, the emptiness making you gasp, “no! No, no, no I was so close!” 

He laughs as he pushes his pants and boxers off his body. “Exactly. Want you to cum with my cock inside you.” 

You look down between your bodies and your eyes widen. He was big and you accidentally voice what you’re thinking, “fuck… not gonna fit.” 

His laugh drags your eyes back to him, his cock moving through your slick and bumping your clit. “Baby you are so wet that I have no doubt it’ll fit.”  

You don’t have time to be embarrassed about it because Eddie is pushing inside you. The size of him stretching you makes you feel like he’s going to split you in half. But you don’t care, the burn just turns you on more and more and before you know it he’s seated inside you fully. 

“Fuck, Eddie.” 

Eddie is panting, trying to keep still so he doesn’t cum before he wants to. “Feel so fuckin’ good, sweetheart. A man could become obsessed with this pussy.” 

He moves right as you begin to speak, nearly knocking the air out of your lungs. He feels like he’s everywhere. “W-witchcraft” 

He fucks you harder, his cock hitting your cervix. You’re definitely going to have a bruise there but it's so worth it. 

“Didn’t know you were into dark shit. S’my schtick.” 

You wrap your legs around him, orgasm building again, “more alike than you originally thought huh?” 

He wraps a tattooed hand around your throat, squeezing gently and making your head spin, “oh, angel, I knew how alike we were the second you told everyone how bad you wanted to fuck me.” 

“C-can you blame me? Knew you’d fuck me just h-how I like.” 

You clench around him making him hiss, “yeah you need someone who will take control huh?” 

The hand around your neck slides down your body till he finds your clit, circling it. 

“Oh god! Please.” 

“I can get used to you prayin’ to me.” His thrusts are losing rhythm (something he’s usually very good at keeping) and you know he’s close. “Cum baby. I need it.” 

And it’s all you need to fall over the cliff and into bliss. He follows you, coming inside you while you squeeze around him. You both moan each other's names and you sigh as you come down. 

Eddie breaks the silence first, “that was… amazing.” 

You hum in agreement as he slides out of you and curls up beside you. You take a moment before getting up and cleaning up in the bathroom. When you come back Eddie has left out an old Corroded Coffin t-shirt and some boxers. And once they’re on, you slide back into his bed, laying your head on his chest.

“We should put that poll up, huh? I’m itching to win this bet.” Eddie laughs as he says it and before you know it, you two are finding a photo the both of you like and posting it on your story with the caption, ‘which one is prettier? Honesty is the best policy.’ 

“And now… we wait.”

[fictionalmenxyn]

¡𝟏𝟎 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐈 𝐇𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐀𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮!

Pt.1 (making it a story…hopefully) (ALSO not movie accurate!!) (will be based in modern time rather than the 90s/00s)

Pairing: Rafe x reader (strangers/enemies to lovers)

(Face claim: Jessica Alba)

Warnings: language, mentions of the word ‘rape’ (due to a part in the book I reference ‘heroes’ if you haven’t read it, I kinda recommend, I read it for my gcse and it was one of the better books I did for English 😭)

-❂❂❂-

It was the beginning of summer, life was great. Even greater for Rafe, new place, fresh start. Moving from California, to Outer Banks was a big change. Well, it was nice for him. He hoped the people… mainly girls… were different from the fake basic girls in Cali.

It was his first day of school, as for you, it was a normal day of school.

You were in your stone grey Toyota gt86, blasting your rock chick music. As the car next to you blasts white chick music. You rolled your eyes at the basic taste of music.

You pulled off as soon as the light hit green. Driving over to the high school.

Once on you had parked up, you got out of the car. Grabbing your tote bag from the back seat you closed both doors and locked your car. Putting your keys into your bag. You adjusted the straps on your shoulder.

Rafe was already there, talking with his ‘tour guide’. The guy, Jake, went through the basics. More specifically the basics of what group of people was what. The ‘jocks’, ‘popular girls’, ‘cowboys’, etc.

That’s when Rafe spotted you from afar. You walked over to your small (preferably) friendship group. Sitting with them on the small brick wall.

Rage’s attention went from you as Jake patted his shoulder and chuckled. Rafe asked “who’s that??” Jake replied “that, my friend, is Y/n Y/l/n… no point in going for her, man.” Rafe’s eyebrow raised “why not??” Jake answered “dude, she’s like got a huge attitude and kinda a bitch…” Rafe scoffed “you probably said something to upset her or some shit, that’s why..” Jake shakes his head “all I’m sayin’ is, watch out for her, man.”

Rafe’s attention was back on you. The way your hair naturally curls, the way your white band tee hugged your chest nicely, the way your long black skirt hugged your curves in all the right places. The way the slight showed just the right amount of thigh that it would be a nice view; but doesn’t dress code you. The way your docs topped off the outfit nicely. Edgy, but modest. You had different style to other girls in the school. And Rafe, for the first time, wasn’t complaining. He never thought he’d be into girls that didn’t wear dresses that practically suffocated them. Or girls that didn’t wear skirts that showed half of your ass. You were different, a good different.

The bell snapped him out of his thoughts. Shit, he has class, he looked over to you one more time to see you walking away with your friends.

-❂❂❂-

You sat in class, the teacher spoke “so? Did anyone even bother to read heroes??”

A girl raised her hand, “yeah, it was so romantic…” you rolled your eyes and remarked “romantic? Larry raped Nicole, so Francis went on a mission. Then it was wasted cause he didn’t even get to complete the mission cause Larry shot himself. Then Nicole and Francis didn’t even reconnect officially… hardly a love story..”

The teacher spoke “thank you, Y/n… didn’t need the summary but thanks…” you crossed your arms and leaned back into the plastic chair “why can’t we read better books by better authors… like Emily Brontë, or George Orwell, even Chuck Palahniuk, maybe even Steven Ki-”

Your teacher spoke “alright, we get it, you say it every time, and I always say..” you mocked “I can’t do a single thing, it’s the school that picks, not me..” your teacher nodded “exa-” the classroom door opens.

Rafe walks in, he gave a small smile “wha’d I miss?” You look over your shoulder. Looking him up and down “discussing the fact this school picks shitty books rather than actual interesting ones…” he smirked when he heard you speak “great.” He left the class.

You looked to your teacher, they spoke “office, now” you place your books in your tote bag and put it over your shoulder. You gave a small smirk to your friends as they subtly cheered for you. As the completely agreed with your argument.

You walked down the hallway, Rafe leaned against the lockers on his phone. As you walked past he looked up, “Y/n… right?”

You turned on your heel and faced him “who’s asking?” He chuckles softly “I’m uh, Rafe… Rafe Cameron…” you nodded “I know, you’re Ward’s son, right??” He raised an eyebrow. How did she know?

You quickly added “my dad is in the same company as the one your father joined. He told me they chatted and mentioned that you’d be joining here…” he nodded “oh right… yeah, uh where you headin’?”

“The office, once again, the English teacher never likes me.” He chuckled as he walked over to her “why’s that? You smarter than her?” You shrug “wouldn’t say smart, I just have good taste in book unlike her or the school…” he nodded. Shoving his hands in the pockets of his slacks “so… mind if I walk with you?” You shook your head “I don’t mind. I wasn’t going to the principals office anyways..” he smirked “bad girl, huh?” You playfully rolled your eyes “more like, the principal is fed up of me going to her office… so here I am, roaming the halls for the next…” you look at your watch “..ten minutes”

He nods, you walk side by side. Rafe didn’t know what he was feeling. He wasn’t intimidated but felt almost shy. He couldn’t describe it, you look the type to rip people’s head off if they bark back at you. But honestly… that was hot in his eyes.

-❂❂❂-

It was currently lunch, you sat on the bleachers with your friends. Eating lunch and talking about anything and everything.

Rafe sat with Jake and a few of Jake’s friends. Rafe clicked almost instantly with Topper and Kelce. They’re both interested in golf, partying, girls, etc. So naturally they clicked.

Rafe would glance over to you from time to time. Topper chuckled “hey, if you keep lookin’ she’s gonna see, dude” Rafe rolled his eyes “fine with me.” The guys chuckled.

Kelce asked “hey Top, Y/n friends with your sister, right??” Topper nodded then sipped his can of Pepsi. Rafe looked to Topper, “wait seriously??” Topper put tossed his can in the trash “yeah, dude, she’s over my place quite a lot.”

Rafe’s ears perked, over Topper’s place quite a lot?? Damn…

He then looked back over to the group to see his sister, Sarah, walk over and sit with them. He watched as Sarah and you talked and laughed. He thinks to himself ‘if she’s friends with Sarah, that means she might come over our place? Oh. My. God’

-❂❂❂-

It was an hour or two after school, you sat on the couch. Your Marshall headphones resting on your head as you listen to music and read.

You hear footsteps approaching, it was your father. He holds an envelope to you. You pulled your headphone down, resting them around your neck. You opened the envelope and gasped “no way!” Your dad asked “what is it??” You answered “I got in! The art and music college we talked about! I got in!” He smiled “really?! Congrats, sweetie!”

Your younger sister (who’s completely opposite to you, full glam and girly, made you wanna gag) came downstairs is a slightly shorter than usual dress. Your father asked “and where are you going??”

Your sister, Gabs, replied “there’s this boy, his name is Brooks” you rolled your eyes “you mean the not so good looking guy who is a huge idiot??” “Shut up!!” Your sister looks back to your dad “he asked to go to the movies, go I pleaseee go daddy?” Your dad shakes his head “absolutely not, you know the rule. No dating till you graduate” Gabs rolls her eyes “please!” He replied “no, end of discussion.”

Gabs argued “this isn’t fair, Y/n gets to go out but I can’t??” You fake laughed “good one, Gabs.” Your father added “same rule applies to her.” You looked over to Gabs “and by the way, I’m not looking for anyone, not interested in a single soul…”

Gabs huffed, your father walks away. You crossed your legs on the couch and rested your now closed book in your lap. “So, where were you actually going? I assume you just lied to dad…” Gabs whispered “a party…” you lightly scoffed “you know you’re too young for those parties, especially with Brooks..” Gabs rolls her eyes “I’m only two years younger than you, quit it.”

Your father re-enters, “new deal, Gabs can have a date-” Gabs squealed and smiled. Your dad added “-if Y/n gets a date.” Gabs smiled drops. “What?! She won’t date! Daddy this is unfair!”

You grabbed your book and stood up, heading over to the stairs. Your sister complained “daddy! She won’t date at all, she’ll be buried and not have a date! C’mon!” You chuckled “good, I’ll keep it that way.” Gabs stood at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at you “you’re so selfish, you know that?!” You chuckled and walked down the hallway upstairs and to your room. Gabs huffed in annoyance.

If you date, Gabs can date. But you don’t wanna date anyone, do you? Not now, not ever… maybe that can change… maybe it’ll stay the same… who knows…

-❂❂❂-

[marsspeedway]

COD HEADCANONS! (1?)

This is translated from Spanish so I'm really sorry if there is a translation error or a word that shouldn't be there!

SIMON RILEY GHOST

His casual outfit is really simple: jeans and a t-shirt or hoodie, his shoes of choice (usually his sneakers or boots) and a leather jacket if it's a more "formal" outing (a date?) or if he feels like dressing up.

Yes yes, balaclava on the base and cloth mask off the base.

Due to his past he has developed a defense mechanism of making jokes to "get over" or lighten his trauma.

After the betrayal of his team and his capture by Robas he basically got used to survive with very little. Therefore: he doesn't eat much, doesn't sleep much and is always in alert mode.

His chuckles are low, deep and feel mocking 99% of the time even though they are not. Instead his real laughter, his guffaws, are LOUD but very very strange to hear.

This man does NOT have a driver's license.

He has constant nightmares and/or night terrors so he tends to sleep very little.

Simon "Ghost" Riley is sleep deprived.

Ghost is the soldier, Simon is the human. So, Ghost is the armor that protects Simon, the tough exterior that protects the sensitive and too fragile interior. 

His room is simple, he doesn't have many belongings and the few he has are really valuable for him.

Ok yes, "Ghost collects knives" or "Ghost collects guns" but... Ghost collects lighters.

Bonus if you think he's a smoker.

Bonus X2 if you think he's an EX-Smoker!

Sleeping near Soap, or cuddling him, surprisingly calms him down (considering how much he dislikes and discomforts physical contact).

Soap is like his safe place, then Price follows, but he doesn't get that close to him physically (almost not at all really).

His closeness to Price has been very helpful to him, the man is a great listener and a great advisor and Simon can't thank him enough for always being there when he needs a shoulder to lean on or someone to give him good advice.

Ghost's "Fucking hell..." at the moment of meeting Soap in MW2 is mainly because he didn't expect to meet him again, he didn't expect to see him again after Makarov, let alone have to WORK with him again. It's not that he dislikes him, he just didn't expect the guy to be HIS sergeant instead of Price's.

During "Alone" Ghost tells jokes and talks to help Soap through the bad time, to calm him down and help him move forward but he also does it for himself because damn: just betrayed at the border of a country/city they don't know, with the colonel who received them captured, with a (his) wounded and messed up sergeant who is the only ally he has right now and who in turn is trying to get to him, with mercenaries nipping at their heels... I think the poor guy has a right to be a little bad. Well, Simon is bad because Ghost seems to be hiding it well.

Hairless?

He tends to eat fast, very fast.

JOHN "SOAP" MACTAVISH

He told Price that they should make varsity jackets with the Task Force logo on them...

Guess who has varsity jackets with the Task Force logo on them?

OG!Soap (2009) hates dogs (according to a line of dialogue) but personally I think Reboot!Soap (the current Soap, the one from 2022) likes them quite a bit.

He's a bit (too much) hyperactive.

He tends to gift and buy things for Ghost, little trinkets or things he knows Simon can use. It goes from clothes to some toy he thinks Ghost might like, they are usually toy soldiers, little action figures or legos (or anything that reminds him of Ghost).

Simon keeps them all. Every single one, even if it's a rock or a note that Soap left him or a doodle that Soap gave him.

He's a freaking master with butterfly knife tricks.

No, he doesn't use them to impress Ghost....

Maybe he does...

Ghost pretends the tricks don't impress him but they do.

He gives me Golden Retriever Boyfriend vibes that can send a bomb to your house.

Let's not forget he's a 30 year old man, military, explosives expert who basically operates in an elite task force... I mean, he could easily kill you. But, still, he's got a nice vibe, he's sociable and it's hard to dislike him.

Bookworm! He'll devour a book in a matter of hours and if he likes it enough he'll do an essay or summary.

He's a homebody with a big, big family. And he would love to have his own family with his own little house in the camp.

To pass the time he usually draws and occasionally writes in his journal. That thing is a little bit of everything: drawings, notes, stories, a personal diary, etc. Anything goes in there.

He cuts his mohawk himself and also usually takes care of rookies' hair, or really anyone who asks (nicely).

He can actually do more than cut mohawks or shave heads, his mother knows how to cut hair and he learned how to do it himself.

You want him to braid your hair? Of course, he's the one! He grew up with several sisters, so of course he knows how to braid. Ponytails? Go ahead. A bun? Sure. You ask and he'll know what to do and if he doesn't, he'll find it.

He can cook a little, just enough to get by and not live on instant noodles and take-out.

[brights-place]

hiii!! could i request platonic brozone with a sibling reader who makes "kawaii metal" music (kind of like babymetal, if u wna look into it!)

basically they were the overlooked one of the siblings, weren't in brozone and when they all split up reader took their leave and began make metal/rock music !! maybe they reconnected with branch during the world tour and have kept in contact since? they didnt go on the adventure to save floyd (werent there for the wedding) but just the shinanigans that ensue when everyone is back together? angst with a fluff ending maybe?

Brozone with an Kawaii Metal! Sibling

Pairing: Brozone X S/O (Platonic)

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Swearing

A/N: OKAY I LOVE BABY METAL I VIBE TO IT SOMETIMES! DUDE ITS SO COOL AND THEIR OUTFITS ARE SO AMAZING! also I didn't highlight who was speaking cause I wrote this at 2:00am so sorry honey!

Your E/c eyes darted around the room after the mishap of what had happened on the Brozone stage every single do of your siblings were fighting except for branch who you quickly covered his ears before you shouted at them to stop which they didn’t listen at all bringing you into the argument aswell causing you tog get mad.

It was known in the family that you were overlooked for being the only girl and not the best singer or dancer like your brothers or any other pop troll so you were mainly shunned to the side. You were close to cursing out John Dory but was cut off by the male leaving the pod with an grappling hook while Clays and Bruce separated aswell as Your eyes glared at the three who had left to their rooms before glancing towards Floyd who gave the tow an guilty look as You scoffed leaving the pod to take breath of fresh air. Floyd stepped out before sitting beside you on the tree branch you were sitting on frowning as Floyd spoke "(name...)" you glanced behind him as he placed an hand on your shoulder "Take care of branch..." Your eyes glanced towards him "You better come back cause I'll be leaving soon" Floyd nodded slowly as you stood up and entered the pod hugging Branch who was confused before Branch whispered to you "are they coming back?" You glanced towards Branch and towards your grandma rosie puff who sighed "Yeah... it normal to happen" grandma rosie puff said walking over joining the hug as days later grandma rosie puff panicked when realizing They ACUTALLY LEFT. For the past years you helped your family before you had to go when branch was just 9 years old when you told him you were leaving he hugged you as you left the pod thanking grandma rosie and told Branch goodbye. How long had it been? 17? years since you left while it was 20 years for your Older brothers...

You stood on a stage with a bright smile as you moved around singing the lights focusing on you and your outfit which was a mix of bright and cheerful colors, with lots of pink and purple hues. Black accents are used to create a bold contrast.

The top was a crop top with lace up details on the sides, and it's in a pastel pink tone. The sleeves have loose ruffles to create a playful vibe. The skirt has a high waisted design, and is in a dark purple hue. It has several layers of ruffles, and is cut in a tiered shape yet there were slight metal like designs for example the spikes around the girls wrists and her studded belt that was held with her skirt.

You soon posed finishing your song panting looking into the crowd to see branch who stood beside a pink girl troll and Queen Barb as you squealed seeing the girl “Barbie-chan!” You teased tackling Barb in a hug as she groaned you still rembering the nickname you gave her when you caught her singing barbie in the middle of the night before glancing to Poppy nodding towards her in a greeting as she squealed "Hi! Im poppy! Barb has told us so much bout you! this is my boyfriend-" you caught Poppy off with speaking up "branch..." you teared up slightly covering your mouth as branch stared at you with wide eyes "(name)" You walked over cupping his face "You've grown so much little bro" you hugged him tightly as Poppy stared with wide eyes confused "YOU HAVE A SISTER?!" "It isn't that big of a deal-" "IT IS! OMG I HAVEN'T MET YOU! THIS IS SO AMAZING!" Poppy squealed hugging you again as you laughed patting Poppy is back "Its good to know someone took care of him when We- I was gone" You said making eye contact with branch who gave a weak smile towards you as you gave a sad look.

He filled you in what you missed and you cried but soon you reconnected next thing you knew a few months later you got sick so you couldn’t attend Bridgette and king gristles wedding but told branch and poppy to scrapbook it for you which poppy agreed to so much while branch hugged you goodbye.

You were informed by Barb, the others that Poppy and branch were on adventure which you were sad about but loved for them to bond more cause you what’s dot be an Auntie so bad!

Currently you were on stage jamming out singing at Volcano rock city branch saying he has to show me while poppy shouted that it was a surprise for you which you were excited about. While you were on stage your dress bouncing where you danced around singing as Trolls who enjoyed your ‘baby metal’ themed singing along as a group of five trolls stared at you on your stage with shock well 4/5 since branch was cheering

You made eye contact with him raising your Handel wave at your younger brother before freezing entirely when seeing four others that had left you with branch and grandma a bubbling feeling rising in your chest your grip on troubled tightening as you finished the song before leaving stage heading into your dressing room holding your head in your hands

You stood in front of your dressing room mirror panting as your heart raced slightly. You'd just been singing on stage when you noticed out of the corner of your eye you'd seen your OTHER four brothers in the crowd. They'd left you and Branch all those years ago, and now here they were watching you perform. As you stumbled into the dressing room, your head was swirling with a mix of emotions. You could feel the anger and hurt rising up in your chest, threatening to boil over.

As you sit in the dressing room your mind churns with conflicting emotions. Part of you wanted to burst out and confront them right then and there to demand explanations and reparations for leaving you and Branch behind for you to be the one with your grandomther to take care of him but another part of you hesitated... It had been twenty long years since you'd last seen them and a lot had changed. Perhaps they had also grown and matured and there was a chance for reconciliation and forgiveness.

A shaky breath past your lips for a moment as you hesitantly stepped out of the dressing room you were greeted by your older four siblings who stood waiting. Your eyes widened at their stances they looked nervous and guilty avoiding eye contact as they shuffled their feet awkwardly mostly John Dory as you took a moment to eye them silently as you were taking note of the slight changes in their appearances and demeanor. John Dory had slighter blue skin then back then when you were young his forest green hair with black eyebrows, his eyes are cyan and black, and a purple indigo nose. He wears this shirt in his torso, a brown and white plush collared vest with brown polka dots on his collars, green ripped shorts, and he is barefoot. His fingerless glove is brown, and a pair of goggles with magenta lenses and a lime green frame. The others changed alot to Spruce had the same slighter blue skin. Lucious purple hair with eyebrows, his eyes are black, and a purple nose. He is seen wearing his shirt with a black and white feather necklace around his neck, a black and white short-sleeved open jacket with scales on it, white roped shorts Clay's pale teal skin was normal yet now he had lime green hair that are from dark teal eyebrows his eyes are blue, and a blue nose. He wears a dark green romper with a green diamond and white outlines, lime green and white stripes bracelets. While your last brother floyd looked away making slight eyecontact with you as you paused pursing your lips for a slight moment Floyd was the last to stare at and how much he had changed from back in the day same skin tone as the rest and his usual dark magenta pink hair and eyebrows, his eyes are purple, and wears a black pearl earring on his right ear. Half of his hair is twisted around his head and partly covers the left side of his face. He is shirtless and has black ripped shorts and a large belt-buckle wrapped around his waist You stared at them you felt out of place when branch grinned motioning you to step forward as you eyed them before speaking "What are you doing here?" you questioned crossing your arms defensively as you surveyed your other siblings as branch patted your shoulder.

The four of them averted their gazes awkwardly shifting their weight and avoiding eye contact. John Dory in particular looked the most guilty he seemed to be struggling to find the right words to say. "We wanted to talk," he finally blurted out, his eyes darting up to meet yours before quickly looking away again. You hesitantly nodded, your arms still crossed tightly across your chest. Your eyes flicked between the four of them, taking in their nervous expressions. "Go on" you said gesturing for them to speak voice steady but cold. "Talk" Before you knew it your older brothers were hugging you babbling apologies as you panicked slightly as branch also felt awkward when wrapped around in the group hug with you as you paused "WHOA WHOA! Chill out!" You said scratching your cheek nervously. Maybe you might have missed them abit... your older brothers were the best... yet you still held them leaving you against them proudly now being able to do things to them in return which caused you and Branch to cause some chaos

reblogs + comments are appreciated ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

©brights-place 2023 — do not repost on another platform, copy, translate or edit my works! if you fit my DNI list please don't interact

[mazeofyeni]

⭕. !!: ° ... YOUTUBE : SKZ-LOG !! ‧ ₊˚

↺ ▪️ ࣪ ˖ ∿ 07.31.24 , skz-log for 2024 stayweek !

OUTFIT FROM VIDEO ! ׁ ׅ ୨ ❪ mayas' masterlist! ❫ ୧ ⊹ ࣪

Walking down the streets of Milan, Italy with the rest of the group , maya holds the tiny camera up turning it on.

" walk on this side of the street there's a car ." chan moved her to the side. "today we're in milan ." she said. "we're going ...." turned to chan. "oppa tell them where we're going." she put the camera in his face. "somewhere." she deadpanned at him , he smiled at the girl. "ah, so annoying."

"who's going in what car ?" seungmin called out. "you're in this one." chan pointed to the car he was in. "let's go stay."

she got in the back seat with felix and chan , turning her camera off now that they were in a car with a camera set up.

"maya ." chan handed her a mic to hook up to her shirt. "thank you." she took the small device , hooking it on her shirt like so.

she munched on a sandwich as they took off down the roads of milan. "it's good." she gave the camera a thumbs up. "every single time i'm forced to sit in the middle." changbin then spoke up. "shortest goes in the middle."

"you can confidently say that knowing we're the same height." felix laughed next to her. "yah , youngest , youngest sits in the middle." the elder said clearly a bit flustered from the girl.

she sat quietly , listening to them talk back and forth , changbin telling random stories and occasionally shouting to the top of his lungs , she glared at chan through the mirror as she covered her sensitive ears. "you picked me for this personally i feel." he laughed. "have i wronged you in any way oppa?" she said. "ah cute." he just smiled at the girl.

chan put down the roof before driving off , her hair going all over the place. "yah , maya." han laughed as her hair wrapped around her face , they all laughed. "maya? you okay?" chan asked , she smiled. "yeah." she gave him a thumbs up. "i'm okay." felix helped her move her hair from her face , smoothing it to the wrapping a hair that he kept in his wrist around the loose ponytail. "there you go." he swept the fly-aways from her face.

they finally arrived at the dessert place. "if someone asks what we do , just say we're a rock band." han said. "like paramore?" she said humming their song from the band. "just say we're youtubers." jisung said.

they got out of the car , walking into the loud restaurant , her stomach growling at the sight of the desserts , making changbin turn to her , she smiled her face turning red in embarrassment. "i guess that sandwich did nothing." he said she nodded.

"that one." she pointed to the chocolate mousse. "can I have that?" she spoke to the cashier. "and a chocolate creme puff?" she smiled. "thank you so much."

"maya." felix handed her a latte. "your teeth are gonna rot from all this sugar." she took the drink. "yongbok." she said. "your nagging again."

they continued on their way down the streets , the convertible back down as she sipped on her latte , sitting back watching the scenery. "you look at peace." felix said , she nodded. "it would be a perfect picture time if i wasn't scared to move to get my phone."

they finally reached their destination a pretty villa , she pulled out the small camera again. "look at this." she turned the camera. "it's like a movie oh my god." she gasped. "it's so pretty."

she filmed random places as they toured the house. "I'm gonna make a lot of money and move back here in my old age." she said. "it's gonna take a while." lino said. "I'm not worried as long as 3racha keeps making music i will always have employment." she shrugged.

"you make music too." chan said. "yeah , but you three could also buy it for me." the trio turned back to her. "you three are the richest if we do the math." she said. "if you three put your life savings together im almost certain it should be enough to buy me that house." han scoffed , the older two turning away. "you thought really deeply about that didn't you?" she nodded. "that's good , you should always have an imagination."

after finishing the tour of the villa they made their way out to find food. "there is a car coming." hyunjin pulled her out of the way. "don't walk on the side , walk in the front." he maneuvered her through the streets. "i've must've gone back to kindergarten or something." he pinched her cheek. "yah!"

they found a nice pizza spot , but half of them stayed outside , while the other went to order the pizza; she set up her camera to take a few photos. "ah , pretty." she smiled looking at the outcome. "i'll keep a few." she said to herself.

they had some time to spare before the pizzas were ready so they walked down further until they found a gelato place.

she got her gelato , sitting down on the bench eating it. "let me try." hyunjin took a bit from hers. "here." he gave her some of his. "i do not like that." she said scrunching her face up. "it's grape." he said. "i don't like it." she said taking a bite of hers.

she finished her treat on the way back to pick up the pizza , but it would take a little longer , so she just walked back to the villa. "I'm alone right now." she said. "fortunately I'm not lost." she laughed. "it would be scary if I was." she said. "they probably wouldn't even look for me— no chan would , but do I really want to hear the nagging that comes with that." she shook her head. "absolutely not!"

she walked back into the villa , sitting down at the table. "what took you so long?" lino asked. "i waited a while , but it got too hot so i came back alone." she said.

everyone came back eventually and they all sat around to eat pizza. "here." chan handed her a kebab since she really didn't eat pizza. "thank you." she smiled , unraveling the food taking a bite. "good?" she nodded giving a thumbs up. "good."

the conversation of their new dorm arrangements came up. "maya you're moving in with hyunjin and changbin?" she nodded. "not sure when i drew the short straw , but yes i am." she said, both of them turning to her. "yah what does that mean!" they laughed at the loud man. "well no i take that back , hyunjin wakes up before me so that's good and oppa can cook so." she said. "that's all it takes to raise a maya." changbin said. "I need someone to wake me up and cook me food , if I was capable of doing those I could live alone."

"well that and you're paranoid about everything else." seungmin said. "well yeah , so no actually I couldn't live alone."

"does anyone have a fan they remember." changbin said once the topic of fans was brought up. "ah!" she said. "there was a fan from debut days when I was really struggling and she gave me a heat pack and told me everything would be okay , and in that moment everything felt like it had magically switched." she explained. " like she took all the stress away." she nodded. "exactly like that."

they spent the next hour or so just talking to each other , laughing and reminiscing about the last 7 years as a group. "I'm sure it's the same for everyone, but with skz continuing as nine members I didn't hesitate at all."

they all agreed, "how else would we be able to work?" she said. "we can't function without each other." they nodded. "i don't see myself making music if it's not with stray kids , I couldn't do it." she said.

"it would be too hard."

©️MAZEOFYENI

[daisyrb-gvf]

Cruising Into Love-Part 3

d.r.w. x f!reader

Okay, you guys...here it is. I always get nervous about the first smutty chapter. Hope you love it!

Words: 9k

Summary: After your passionate moment with Danny on the island, you both are eager to spend more time together.

Warnings: 18+ readers only

explicit sex, oral (f receiving), language, little sprinkle of life threatening situations, passing tf out, smoking hot Daniel Wagner.

You plop down on your tiny bed, a huge smile on your face. He’s coming tonight, and if you’re honest, hopefully in more ways than one. Danny said he needed to stop, but you didn’t want him to. You would have had sex with him right then and there under the waterfall. You imagine the loud crashing of the water drowning out your inevitable moans and cries. What is it about this man that makes you so electric? You feel out of control, but in the best way possible. You feel alive and young and sexy, feelings that you haven’t had in longer than you can remember.

Your mattress is getting damp from your rain-soaked clothes. You didn’t beat the storm, but racing Danny through the rain, seeing his white muscle tee sticking to his back and shoulders made it all worth it. A wave of warmth rushed over you, even in the unseasonably cold storm. You wondered what it would be like to kiss and suck and worship every single inch of his body, the thought making you falter and slow your pace, your breath hitching. Yeah, it was worth losing the race. Absolutely it was worth it. 

You force yourself to get up and shower quickly. You have to rush to get ready for the show…the show that Danny will be at in all of his fine-ass glory. Oh God, you hope you can keep it together and make it through the performance. You’ll probably have to do a few more faster songs just so you don’t jump out of your skin from excitement.  

– – –

Danny paces in his room, cold from the air conditioner that is still running while he is soaking wet. He opens the door to the balcony and steps out for a moment, breathing in the salty ocean air, grinning and closing his eyes, grabbing onto the railing and leaning back again, daydreaming about the hottest make-out session he’s ever had in his life. The ship horn blasts, indicating that it’s almost time to leave the port, snapping him out of his memory. Looking at the time, he runs to the shower, hoping he has time to wash and style his hair and consider what he’s going to wear tonight. He’s fighting his growing erection while the hot water washes over him, trailing down his body and reminding him of the waterfall. “Snap out of it,” he mutters to himself, trying to fight off the urge to relieve the ache building in his cock. There’s no way he’s doing that right now. He isn’t even sure if you would want to sleep with him tonight, but he’s taking no chances, keeping the electric energy building in his body. All he knows is if you do want to, he wants to try to make it the best you’ve ever had because he has a feeling it’s going to be for him. 

– – –

“You coming, Danny?” Josie asks through the door leading into the hallway. 

“Yeah just a minute!” He double-checks his hair, making sure there are no stray frizzy curls. Thank God for Sam’s girlfriend, Hannah. She taught him how to take care of his curls and gave advice on skincare, not that it was bad before, but Danny does love looking pretty, not just for the girls and guys, but for himself too. It gives him extra confidence. He used to struggle with that much more than he does now, although it’s still there and creeps out sometimes. 

He grabs his room key and heads out to meet Josie. “Wow! You look nice, big brother!” Josie says with a smirk. 

It is one of his favorite outfits. Short-sleeved, fitted, black mock-neck shirt and black skinny jeans with black boots. He’s rocking the Johnny Cash look tonight with his own spin. Deciding to ditch the shark-tooth necklace, he switched to a silver chain, matching the permanent dainty silver bracelet that he, Sam, and his sister got together.  

“Thanks! You too, sis.” 

Josie sports a beautiful blue maxi dress that has a cutout in the back, tied together with a matching string. She has a natural beauty, wearing light make-up and letting her loose curls fall down her back. 

“I know,” she replies with a wink as they turn the corner for the elevators. “You nervous?” 

“Yeah, a little,” Danny confesses, not even trying to deny it. 

“I can tell. You’re practically jumping out of your skin. I take it today went well?” she asks, looking out at the chandelier through the glass elevator. 

“Yeah, really well, actually,” Danny’s face is bright red as he turns away to look at anything that is in the opposite direction of his sister. 

“I’m not going to ask for details,” Josie assures, kindly. 

Thank God. Not that he would have answered, but he already felt awkward enough. Even if she is his best friend, she’s also his sister. He can’t talk to her about certain things the way he talks to Sam and the twins. 

They meet their parents in front of the piano bar and make their way in, getting closer seats this time. Danny wants to see as much of you as possible. 

When you walk out you see him immediately. Well, fuck me sideways-he looks like a dream in that outfit. Not that it would have made much of a difference, but it would have been nice if he could have looked a little more casual. That would make it at least a tiny bit easier to keep your composure. Josie looks beautiful, as well. If Danny wasn’t on this cruise, you have a feeling you may have been feral for her instead. She smiles at you encouragingly while Danny drinks you in-a hungry look in his eyes. God, please stop. You can’t look at him with that gaze on you. 

You settle in at the grand piano and gently place your hands on the keys, grounding yourself. 

“Did everyone have a good time exploring Nassau today?” you ask the audience, this time your cheery expression is completely genuine. You get a cheer and a few “yesses” from the crowd. “Glad to hear it! Well, take some time to relax and unwind from your day while I play a few songs for you.” 

You start upbeat playing “I Feel The Earth Move” by Carole King. Unable to keep your eyes away, you look over at Danny who is beaming and singing along, drumming his fingers lightly on the table again. 

I feel my heart start to trembling

Whenever you’re around

Ooh, baby, when I see your face

Mellow as the month of May

Oh darling, I can’t stand it

When you look at me that way

Josie giggles and grins, glancing over at her brother. She seems like such an amazing sister. A sibling who genuinely loves her brother and wants him to be happy. It makes your heart ache. 

FInishing up the song, you get some cheers and a couple of “whoops” from Danny and Josie, causing you to blush. 

“Let’s slow it down for just a minute, sound good?” you ask the audience. They clap in encouragement as you start the next number. “This one was a request,” you say, not looking over at Danny at that moment. Fraternizing with guests is definitely frowned upon here, and you don’t want to cause any suspicion. 

Daniel is driving tonight on a plane

I can see the red tail lights heading for Spain

Oh and I can see Daniel waving goodbye

Oh it looks like Daniel, must be the clouds in my eyes

Danny’s mom taps his shoulder, looking excited, but oblivious that this song is actually for him. Just a happy coincidence. As you close out the song the audience claps and starts calling out requests. Maybe you shouldn’t have added that little detail. You decide to just go ahead and play requests for the rest of the performance. More Elton John, John Legend, Norah Jones, and a few others. 

“Okay, one more request for the night. What is it gonna be?” 

“Light My Love!” someone calls out immediately. 

“Hmm��who is that by?” you ask. You think you may have heard that title before, but you don’t remember the tune. 

“Greta Van Fleet!” they call out. 

“Okay, let me see if it’s in the book, and if so I’ll play it!”

You flip through the binder of approved songs and find it. Looking over it quickly, you hear the tune in your head. “Okay! We will close out with this one. I’m not entirely sure how the lyrics are sung, so could some of you help me out?” You get some more cheers and feel confident that the audience can cover for you. You start to play and realize how beautiful of a song it is. Why haven’t you heard this before? You’ll need to check out more of their music. You glance over at Danny and see a nervous expression. Why would he be nervous? Maybe because the show is almost over and he feels anxious about being near you again. You know you do. The audience sings along, sounding much better than the audience from your previous performance. Danny’s parents sing along excitedly, apparently loving this song. Danny and Josie seem to be unfamiliar with it, but clearly enjoy the tune. The crowd cheers loudly as you wrap up the song, and you make a mental note to put that one into the rotation. The audience seemed to love it, and you can see why. It’s one of the most beautiful songs you’ve heard. A few people approach you after the performance telling you they loved the show, and give more requests for next time. You graciously thank them and make sure not to let your eyes wander over to Danny until they approach you. 

“Hey! Remember us?” Josie asks, extending her hand. Yeah, she’s a great sister. She knows the drill. 

“Uh, yeah I do! Josie, right?” you reply warmly, shaking her hand. “And you’re..Danny?” you ask as you look over to him, shaking his hand. 

“Yeah! Good to see you again. We had to bring our parents to your performance. We knew they would love it,” he says, gently placing his hand on his mother’s shoulder. 

“We did love it!” she replies with a bright, warm smile. Now you see where Danny and Josie get it from. 

“We really did,” their dad chimed in, shaking your hand. “I’m Dan, and this is my wife Lori.” 

“Wonderful to meet you. I’m y/n,” you reply with a bright, genuine smile. Something you haven’t had to offer lately…until these last few days. 

“Well, we should probably get going for dinner,” Lori says. “It truly was a wonderful performance. Thank you, y/n.” 

“You’re so kind, thank you,” you say, shaking her hand again. She really is very warm and gives off a comforting vibe. 

“Would you all mind if I skip dinner tonight,” Danny asks his parents. “That hike today really wore me out, and I want to make sure I’m not sluggish tomorrow when we go play golf, dad.” 

“Oh yeah, of course honey,” his mother says, stroking his arm. “Go get some rest. We’ll see you for breakfast in the morning.” She leans over and kisses him on the cheek before heading out the door. 

Making sure her parents aren’t looking, Josie turns around and winks before sauntering out of the double doors, joining them. 

“So…you wanna hang out,” Danny asks, his voice impossibly soothing. Like a beautiful song you feel like you’ve been waiting to hear your whole life. 

“I’d love to,” you reply, a little breathless as you beam up at him. Your face falls slightly. “I’m not really sure where we can, though. We can’t be too obvious with this, unfortunately.” 

“Well…how about my room?” he asks, nervously, putting his hands in his pockets as he rocks back on his heels. 

“Yeah, um..that sounds nice. What room are you in? I can meet you there in about twenty minutes or so?” 

“720," he smiles, "Are you hungry?”

“Starving, actually." You didn’t even realize until just now that you haven’t eaten since breakfast. 

“Okay, I’ll order something for us,” he says with that boyish grin that makes you feel like your heart could beat out of your chest. “Is there anything in particular you’d like?” 

“Oh, no. I’ll eat just about anything. You pick.”

“Okay, sounds good. So…I’ll see you in a bit.” He walks backward for a moment, hands still in his pockets before pivoting around to head toward his room. 

“Damn, that ass is adorable,” you mumble to yourself, letting out a puff of air. 

Walking over to the bar you see Chris again, serving the last couple of guests before he walks over to you. 

“Tequila?” he offers, already pouring. 

“Yes, and make it a double.”

He chuckles and slides over your shot. “So, are you gonna hit that tonight, or can I shoot my shot?” 

“Chris!” you whisper loudly. “Shut up!” 

“Oh come on. There’s no one around who can hear us,” he rolls his eyes, crossing his arms, leaning forward on the bar. “So, are you?”

“I don’t know. I want to, but…I’m not sure he does.” You fidget with your hands for a moment. 

Chris pours another shot and holds it out for you. “Here’s some more liquid courage, and trust me, girl. That man was eye-fucking you all night. If you want to go for it, it’s happening. Report back and tell me if he’s as big as I think he is. ” 

“Good lord, Christopher!” you whisper loudly again. You both chuckle and you take the shot, feeling the burn as you shudder. “but I absolutely will.” 

– – –

You head back to your bunk to brush your teeth and run a brush through your hair. Shaking slightly, you throw a couple of condoms in your purse and head up to the 7th floor. Honestly, it’s been months since you’ve slept with someone, and that was a disappointing experience. You desperately hope this won’t be the same way, but you highly doubt that will be the case, especially after that hot as hell make out session earlier. 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” you say under your breath. “It may not even happen. Just relax.” 

Once you make it to the seventh floor you take a deep breath and step off the elevator. What if he doesn’t want this? Can you even keep from attacking him and climbing his body like the perfectly carved statue he is? 

“Easy, girl. Relax. Relax. Relax,” you repeat over and over before knocking on the door. 

You go weak in the knees when you see him. He doesn’t look any different than he did at the piano bar. Maybe it’s seeing him in the confines of the bedroom, or just knowing you have total privacy. 

“Hey y/n,” he says with that impossibly heart-melting smile. His kind voice is smoother than silk, and you can feel it wash over you like a warm rain on a summer’s day. He extends his arm and steps aside, gesturing for you to come in. 

“Hi, Danny,” you say back, your voice barely above a whisper. That’s all you can muster up at the moment. 

You walk through the door and see a ton of food spread out on the coffee table and counter space where the vanity is. Hozier is playing softly on his phone. 

“Whoa. I know I said I was hungry, but I’m not sure I can eat all of this,” you giggle, walking over to the couch, the fabric feeling slightly scratchy on the back of your thighs. 

Danny lets out that adorable, goofy laugh and your stomach does a flip. How, in God’s name, does this man manage to affect you this way? You’ve never felt anything even remotely like this before. 

“I know, but I just had no idea what to get, and I wanted to make sure I had something that you were in the mood for. Sorry, I know this is a huge waste of food,” he smiles with a guilty look. 

“Oh, it’s okay! Don’t apologize. Maybe we can throw it out to the sharks,” you laugh. 

“My friend Sam would lose his mind if he saw how much we are about to waste.”

“Well, your friend Sam isn’t here, so don’t worry about it. It all looks amazing. Thank you, Danny.” You gaze into his eyes for just a moment before blushing and looking away. If you can’t even look at the man for this long, how is this evening going to go? 

“So…” he begins, that same adorable nervous look that he had at the piano bar on his chiseled face, “what are you in the mood for? Chicken, steak, fish, macaroni and cheese, I think I have some lasagna over here somewhere…” He stands back up and walks over to the countertop. “Ah, yes here it is! What will it be, m’lady?” he offers, placing a cloth napkin over his arm, acting like a waiter at some fancy-pants restaurant. He's clearly trying to break the tension, and you appreciate that. 

You giggle (so so giggly again), “I think I’ll take the steak, kind sir,” you reply with a horrible British accent. 

“As you wish,” he replies, bowing and placing the plate in front of you. He really is a dork. Thank God. “It’s a beautiful night. Do you want to go eat out on the balcony?”

“Yeah, that sounds nice,” you reply, reaching to pick up your plate. 

“Oh, I’ve got it y/n,” Danny replies with a smile, picking up both of your plates as the two of you make your way through the sliding glass door. 

The moon is full and bright, the water sparkling and glinting with the rise and fall of the little waves that the ship is creating. “Hmm,” you say with a contented little sigh, “he’s right, and I never really thought about it before now.” 

“What’s that?” Danny asks, setting the plates down on the little table between two chairs. 

“Oh, there’s this song by Incubus. Brandon says ‘the ocean looks like a thousand diamonds strewn across a blue blanket.’”

“Wish You Were Here.” Danny gives you a soft smile before looking out at the water with you. “One of my favorites, actually. The lyrics are beautiful. I think the other verse applies too. ‘The sky resembles a back-lit canopy with holes punched in it.’” Quoting Incubus to you. Your stomach doesn’t have butterflies right now, it has pterodactyls.  

You turn and admire him for a moment as he searches the sky, the bright moonlight shining on his face. He looks angelic right now, and you wonder if maybe he is. He holds onto the railing again and leans back, feeling the ocean breeze with a smile as he closes his sparkling hazel eyes. He likes doing that. 

“Sorry,” he apologizes, standing straight and looking over at you. “You’re starving. Let’s eat!” He rubs his hands together and offers your chair before sitting in his. “Oh! Drinks. What sounds good? I got us champagne, white or red wine, and beer.”

You’re already a little tipsy from the shots, so you opt for a glass of champagne. He goes inside to pour two glasses, and you turn your head as little as possible to watch him. The cork pops off of the champagne bottle before he carefully pours it into the glass flutes. How, on God’s green earth (well, God’s blue ocean), does he make pouring drinks look this hot? You wonder if he actually is a waiter at some high-end restaurant, because he could probably bring in a ridiculous amount of money in tips. 

You thank him as he walks back through the sliding door, handing you your drink. You both are silent for a moment as you eat, the sound of the waves and hum of the ship’s engine breaking the awkward tension. 

“So, how long have you been performing?” Danny asks, taking a sip of his champagne. 

“Since I was about four years old, but I've been professionally performing since I got out of college, so three years. I wanted to travel and I wanted to perform, so I figured cruises would be the way to go. What about you? What do you do?” You take a bite of your steak, awaiting his response. 

He takes a bite and another sip before responding. “Oh, well, uh…I’m actually a musician too.” He looks nervous. You wonder why, though? 

“Oh! Seems like we do have quite a bit in common. Are you a singer? Do you play any instruments?” you ask, excited that you can bond over your careers together. 

“I play guitar, drums, bass, piano, mandolin, ukulele, a few others” he chuckles. “Just a little of everything. Nothing major,” he’s staring at his plate, seemingly searching for the best bite of lasagna. 

“Wow! Have you recorded at all? Anything I may have heard before?” 

“Oh, I doubt it. I just play random shows here and there and jump in to play guitar or drums for smaller bands every once in a while. I live in Nashville, so there’s always something to do there.” 

“That’s so cool. I would love to live in Nashville one day. I’m debating on stepping away from the cruise life after my contract is over in a few months. I really want to record an album of my own. I’ve written a few songs, but I would be happy just being a recording artist for hire as well.” 

“Oh, I bet you could get a lot of work there. You’re incredibly talented, and you have a beautiful voice too,” he says, genuinely as he smiles and looks into your eyes. 

You feel a shudder move down your spine as you turn bright red and smile. “Thank you,” you reply, barely above a whisper. You feel confident in your skills as a musician, but hearing it from him makes your heart pound. “So, did you grow up in Nashville?” you ask, moving the conversation along so you can breathe normally. 

“No, I grew up in a small town in Michigan called Frankenmuth,” he breaks eye contact, taking another bite. He could tell he made you nervous by your blush. 

“Oh! I think I’ve heard of that place. It has that big Christmas store, right?” 

“Yeah! I’ve gotten lost in there a few times. It is outlandishly huge,” he laughs that adorable goofy laugh. 

“Ugh, that sounds like a dream. I LOVE Christmas. It’s my favorite time of year on the ship. All of the garland and lights and Christmas trees everywhere. It’s beautiful, and I get to play mostly Christmas carols for my performances.” 

“That sounds wonderful. I love Christmas as well. It’s hard not to love it back at home in our little town. It's like a winter wonderland, plus I always go up to spend a couple of weeks with my family. That’s the best part.”

Your heart aches hearing him talk about his family and see how they interact. “That sounds perfect.” 

He notices the sadness in your eyes, and decides to move on from the topic. “So, where are you from?”

“Also a little town, but in Colorado. Erie. It’s basically a suburb of Boulder, so ‘little town’ is relative,” you chuckle. “Was it a big adjustment? Going from a small town to a big city like Nashville?” 

“Sort of. It was definitely different, but exciting. I moved with a few of my friends, so that made it easier to settle in. We did move right as Covid was spreading around, so having them there really helped a lot through that.”

“Yeah, Covid was tough. I had to move back home for a while with my family until the cruise lines started booking again. It was so boring, but I did get some writing done during that time, so I suppose something good came from it.” You start to feel more comfortable, your nerves settling down. 

“I would love to hear some of your originals. Are you able to play any of them during your performances here?” he asks, setting down his fork and leaning back in his chair. 

“Sometimes. Nothing with lyrics, but I can play the melodies. I usually save those for when I play the lunch shift. Most people just come to relax and chat at the bar during the day. It’s a little more informal.” You set your fork down as well and lean back, matching his posture. “I don’t think I can eat another bite. That was delicious.” 

“Same here,” he says as he glances out to the ocean again. After a moment he leans in, hands clasped with his elbows resting on his knees. “So, y/n, tell me more about yourself.” 

You talk for hours, the conversation flowing organically, both of you sharing stories about your life. Family, friends, hopes and dreams, your favorite movies and musicians. 

“No! You are absolutely wrong!” you argue, trying to look offended through your huge smile you’ve had plastered on your face for hours. 

“I’m not!” he replies, smiling as well, his hand movements exaggerated as he argues his point. “Carole King wrote ‘You’ve Got A Friend’! No one performs it better than her!” He’s so adorable when he’s passionate like this. 

“It’s a beautifully written song, absolutely, and Carole performs it wonderfully, but there’s something about James Taylor’s version that just…makes it better. I think it’s a song that just sounds better on guitar.” 

“This coming from a pianist. I’m appalled!” he laughs. 

“I know. I’m a traitor to my own kind,” you laugh with him. 

“Well, we can agree to disagree on this one. Sound good?” he asks. 

You pretend to ponder the question for a moment, crossing your arms and tapping your finger on your chin. “I suppose so,” you concede with a giggle. 

You’re both silent for a moment, but it’s a comfortable silence. It’s been nice getting to know him more. You feel at peace with him, but somehow also still feel the magnetic pull and electricity coursing through your veins. 

“Do you want to dance?” he asks timidly. 

“Oh, uh…yeah. Yeah that sounds nice,” you smile. “There’s not a lot of room here though.” 

“That’s okay. I don’t mind getting close to you,” he winks, stepping inside to grab his phone. Your stomach flips again, the nervousness creeping back in, but it’s an exciting nervousness. One that you happily welcome. One that makes you feel alive. You feel so alive. 

He steps back out and slides the door open all the way so he can pull in the chairs and small table, leaving the whole little balcony for you to move around on. You step in front of him, flashes of your dip in the swimming hole earlier racing across your mind. You have to glance away at the ocean for a moment to pull yourself out of it, tearing your eyes away from his body. Damn, he smells amazing too. Kind of musky and warm. Almost like the mahogany teakwood candle from Bath and Body Works. Your favorite. His scent mixed with the ocean air makes you a little dizzy, your eyes fluttering. 

He turns on “Like Real People Do” and sets the phone on the table, just inside of the room past the balcony. 

“Is this okay?” he asks, nervously putting his hands in his pockets again. 

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s perfect.” Your voice is breathy and you smile at him, no doubt looking like a smitten little school girl. He slowly approaches you, holding one hand up and placing the other on your hip. You gently place your hand in his and rest the other on his shoulder, swaying to the music. 

“I’m actually not much of a dancer, but it just seems like a perfect night for it, don’t you think?”

The bright white smile he flashes makes it hard to respond, but you manage to breathe out a “yes.” 

After a minute or so he moves his hand around your waist, and pulls the other to his chest. You can feel his heartbeat against your fingers. You lean in and rest your head on his chest so you can hear the steady rhythm of it, closing your eyes. He’s so warm, so sturdy, so…safe. 

“So, you’re a big Hozier fan, huh?” you ask. 

“Oh yeah. He’s one of my musical idols. One of the greats,” he replies, his voice smooth and soft. Like a blanket of silk gently caressing your skin. You hear the deep rumble in his chest with each word, sending a vibration through your whole body and you falter, missing a step. 

“Oh, sorry,” you mumble, pulling back again. 

“No, it’s okay,” he urges, pulling you close to him again, this time one of his hands cups your cheek, the other wraps around your waist again. “You know…I…I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since I saw you performing that first night.” 

You let out a slow, shaky breath, placing both of your hands on his chest, the steady rise and fall of his breathing keeping you calm. “I’m glad I’m not the only one.” You sigh out a little chuckle and gaze into his eyes. You feel so safe with him in this moment. 

He leans in and moves his hand from your cheek to the back of your neck. His fingers are calloused, but soft, and you realize just how big they are as he cradles your head. “Can I kiss you?” he whispers again, just like he did under the waterfall. 

“Absolutely,” you reply, your voice a little louder and more eager than you expected. 

He smirks and leans in further, closing the gap. You whimper the moment his lips touch yours, and you feel him smile into the kiss. He’s so tender and gentle that it makes your heart ache, but you need so much more. His kiss unleashes something in you that you didn’t realize was aching to get out. 

Pulling back, and somehow already out of breath, you ask, “Earlier today, when you said you didn’t know if you would be able to stop, is that…something you wanted to do?”

“What, stop? Or not stop?” he chuckles. 

“I suppose you could answer either way, but to be clearer,” you bite your lip nervously, “at what point do you, uh…want to stop tonight? Because I…I’m okay, y’know with…not stopping.” God, you’re so nervous, but you need to know right now before you lose all control. 

He leans in again, brushing his lips along your cheek until he reaches your ear. “I don’t want to stop, y/n. Not at all.” His voice in your ear is so much sexier than you imagined (dozens of times over the course of three days, if you’re honest), and you can’t help yourself. You whimper and run one hand up his back until you reach his hair, gripping it tightly. Your other hand practically claws at his shoulder, pulling on his shirt as you crash your lips into his. Your lips lock together perfectly, just like before, but with more desire behind it. He pulls your hips flush with his, digging his fingers in ever so slightly. You feel every bit of it though, and you start to unravel even more. He begins to match your intensity and groans as you softly bite and suck on his bottom lip. 

“Please touch me Danny,” you beg in the most pathetic whimper. You would be embarrassed, but you are so desperate to feel more of him that you don’t care. 

“Yes ma’am,” he groans into your mouth, barely able to pull himself away.

He runs his hands up your hips and back, memorizing every curve. Once he reaches the zipper at the top, he pulls it down at a frustratingly slow pace. You whimper again, begging him without words while you slide your hands underneath his skin tight black shirt. The ripples of his muscles on his back and shoulders, causing your panties to dampen even more.

“God, please Danny,” you whine, frantically reaching behind your back to yank the zipper down further. 

“Shhh, pretty girl. Just let me savor you for a while. Please?” His voice is impossibly soft and sexy, instantly calming you down as you catch your breath. 

“I’m so sorry,” you say, pulling away again, shaking yourself out of this feral trance he has you under. 

He gently grasps your arms and pulls you close again, cupping your cheek and kissing you slow and deep. You don’t understand…how is this kiss even hotter, but making you more calm? 

“We’re going to get there, okay?” he assures, as he moves his lips down to your neck, barely brushing them over your flushed skin. “I promise,” he whispers, moving up to your ear. 

You nod, unable to speak as you feel his teeth graze the soft skin of your earlobe before giving it a gentle kiss. You melt into him, your head lolling off to the side and your eyes fluttering. He kisses that sweet spot right behind your ear and works his way back down your neck, licking and sucking every inch. Finally, he pulls down your zipper the rest of the way, stopping at your tailbone. He pulls back and slides the straps off your shoulders, peeling the dress down and off your body as he drinks in the shape of you. He saw this much of you earlier, but now his eyes are dark and he looks fucking hungry. Kneeling down in front of you, he helps you step out of the dress, probably worried your knees would buckle and you’d fall over based on how badly you’re trembling right now. 

“Are these heels bothering you?” he asks, glancing up at you with sweet, innocent eyes, the sight of him kneeling before you causing your mind to race with all sorts of unholy thoughts. The switch from his predatory stare to this almost submissive one is giving you whiplash, and you wonder…how easily could he switch in bed? 

“Easy girl,” you whisper to yourself, quiet enough so the sound of the waves keeps him from hearing. 

“Yeah, actually they are.” You didn’t even realize until he asked. His fingers are long and calloused, but nimble. Quickly undoing the clasp of your strappy, black heel, he holds your ankle steady and carefully pulls the shoe off, worried your feet may be sore. Such a gentleman, and it feels incredibly intimate. He repeats his actions with the other foot and stands back up, towering over you more than before with the loss of three inches of height you had. He reaches out to caress down your shoulders and arms with the backs of his fingers, goosebumps creeping up the path he’s taken. 

“You are…” he starts, as he takes his time looking at every inch of you, “absolutely breathtaking.” 

Your heart catches in your chest at the tenderness and sincerity of his words. You know what it sounds like when a man is just trying to get you in bed. This was not that. He meant it. He was almost worshiping you. 

He steps forward and places his hands on your collar bones, covering your entire chest as he gives you the sweetest, slow kiss you’ve ever felt. You whimper as you feel his hands move down to your bra, cupping your breasts and running his thumbs over your nipples that are peeking out of the sheer, black fabric. You shiver and arch your back, aching to feel more. 

“Are you cold?” he asks. 

“Definitely not." Your entire body is on fire right now. 

He smirks and bites his lip as he pulls his shirt off in one swift motion, tossing it on the ground. You drink him in, aching to feel his skin against yours. Reaching around, you unclasp your bra and let it fall to the floor. The fabric wasn’t hiding much, but you feel very exposed just standing in front of him like this. You step forward and place your hands on his lower abdomen, running the backs of your fingers along the soft trail of dark hair leading down into his pants. He sighs when you run your hands along the muscles of his back, torso, and shoulders, exploring him. 

“Come here,” he whispers, pulling you in at your waist, cupping the back of your neck. His hands are large enough to reach around and place his thumb under your jaw, gently pressing upward to meet his lips. This kiss is deep, hungry, passionate. Whimpers escape from the two of you as you reach around to grab his ass, pressing him into you, and he slides his hand down your chest settling between your breasts. He walks you backward, until your back is up against the railing, the top bar hitting your shoulder blades. Breaking your kiss, he moves his mouth down your chest, over your breasts again, licking and sucking as you bury your hands in his hair, arching into his mouth. He groans in appreciation and continues his journey down your stomach, alternating between kisses and licks until he gets to your belly button. He runs his lips over to your hip bone and softly bites, causing you to gasp and jump in surprise. Glancing up at you with mischievous eyes, he kitten licks the spot. Keeping eye contact, he glides his tongue along the waistband of your panties, teasing you. You reach to pull them down, but he grabs your wrists, pinning them to your sides. “Not yet, pretty girl.” 

You whimper and fight against his strong grasp, knowing it’s futile, but unable to stop yourself. His eyes darken and he bites the same spot on your hip, but harder this time, causing you to yelp. “I said not yet, y/n.” 

Oh. Oh. You debate on fighting back again just to see what he would do next, but he stops your train of thought when he starts to run his perfectly angled nose up the inside of your thigh. You relax your arms and your head falls back, eyes fluttering as you look up at the sky. The moon and stars witness to the pure ecstasy you’re already feeling. Danny reaches your core and runs his nose up your embarrassingly wet panties, his tongue following suit. You struggle against his grip on your wrists again, but he doesn’t punish you this time. He just brings both hands to rest on your stomach, and holds them in place with one of his, while he moves the other to pull your panties to the side. He taunts you agonizingly by kissing the creases between your thighs and your lips, your clit already aching and swollen. He chuckles darkly when you move your pelvis forward trying to meet his mouth. 

“God, Danny please,” you beg, pathetically. 

“So eager, aren’t we?” He kisses the inside of your thigh again, but lower this time, making you whine. Your mind is reeling over the difference between the Danny you made out with under the waterfall and this Danny, somehow dominating you while you are towering over him. You relax again, brow furrowed and whimpering. 

“That’s a good girl,” he praises. He offers sweet relief finally as he presses his tongue through your folds, gliding it upward and flicking it over your clit. 

“Fuucckkk yes,” you moan. You’re dying to break free from his grasp so you can touch him, or even just touch yourself. Touch something, but you don’t want him to stop, so you endure it. He dips his tongue deeper inside of you, dragging out the juices and spreading them over your clit, flicking his tongue faster before flattening it and shaking his head back and forth furiously. Your legs start to shake and you can already feel your orgasm building ridiculously fast. 

“Please, Danny,” you whimper. “Please, not yet.” 

“Why not?” he sounds genuinely curious, but still looks so fucking dark and mischevious-slmost devilish. 

“Be-becuase I can’t…I can’t cum more than once,” you reply, nervously. All of the other women you know can have multiples, but you’ve just never been able to. 

“Yes you can,” he says matter-of-factly before diving back in, devouring you. 

“OH God! N-no no I can’t. R-really…please please stop. I’m begging you, Danny!” 

Oh he fucking loved that, but he stops, being the gentleman that he is. Standing up to meet your face, he gazes into your eyes, his lips glistening with your juices, looking so fucking enticing. “Y/n, I promise I can make it happen. Will you please let me?” His expression softened and you feel so safe again.

“Y-yeah…can’t hurt to try I guess,” you reply with a weak chuckle. 

“Do you trust me?” His dark eyes sparkle in the moonlight and your heart melts. You would let him do just about anything right now, so I suppose that means yeah. You trust him. 

“I do,” you whisper. He kisses you so lightly you wouldn’t even be sure it actually happened if it weren’t for the tiny string of your wetness connecting your bottom lip to his as he pulls away. Kneeling back down, he throws one of your legs over his shoulder and releases your hands. They immediately dive into his hair as he sinks his middle finger into you and grazes his lips over your clit. You’re panting and whimpering at this point, gazing down at his work, his soft curls tickling the insides of your thighs. You moan as he slips in another finger, curling them upward, stroking your g-spot infuriatingly slow, barely flicking his tongue over your throbbing clit. You’re trying to savor the moment and remember every detail, but your body is screaming for more. A sob releases from deep in your chest, launching him into action. 

“You’re doing so well, pretty girl, letting me take you there. Thank you,” he praises. 

Wow. You’ve never had a man, or a woman, thank you for letting them give you brutal ecstasy, but then again, you’ve never had anyone come close to how he makes you feel. Maybe you actually are the one in control here. 

“Do you trust me?” he asks again, sincerity and concern in his eyes. He’s double-checking to make sure you feel safe, and it is possibly the sexiest thing he’s done all night. 

“Absolutely.” 

He slowly pulls his fingers out of you, causing a whimper to escape from your throat, but he stays in place, keeping your knee over his shoulder. He places your other leg over his opposite shoulder, causing your body to raise a few inches, the center of your back now at the top of the railing. Your eyes go wide and you grip onto his arms for dear life. He has a vice grip on your thighs, though, and you know those muscles that are flexing in the moonlight aren’t going to let you go anywhere. He keeps his eyes locked on yours, gauging your reaction to this position, and stays still until you nod your head softly. This time, he dives in hard and fast, mercilessly sucking and licking your clit. You cry out and throw your head back, your whole upper back falling over the railing. You can see the ocean with your head tipped all the way back, your chest heaving and glowing in the moonlight. The power and intensity of the ocean matches the way Danny is making you feel deep in your core. You can feel that coil tightening inside you as your orgasm builds. God, you feel fucking alive. Throwing all caution to the wind, you let your arms fall back, feeling the wind between your fingers before clenching your fists, your orgasm so close. 

“I’m gonna cum, Danny! Oh-oh fuck, fuck, fuck!” you cry out as your entire body shakes around him. His tongue continues to lash mercilessly inside of you and you bury your hands in his curls, holding him as tightly to you as possible. You can hear how wet you are over the ocean's waves until suddenly you can’t hear anything at all. Everything goes silent as you gaze at the moon until it goes dark. 

– – –

Danny is holding you in his arms, stepping through the doorway as you come to. You hear Hozier playing in the background, and it takes you a moment to realize where you are, but once you do you feel immediately embarrassed. “Oh my God. I am so so sorry,” you say, turning bright red as you try to escape his embrace. 

“Will you stop that?” he asks with a chuckle. “Why do you keep apologizing? Do you know how fucking amazing that was for me?!” 

“For you?!” you ask, incredulously, unable to stifle the laugh bubbling up from your chest. 

“Hell yes! I thought I was going to cum just watching you. That was the sexiest, most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life!”

His boyish look of shock and bright smile on his face has you reeling. There’s no way this adorable 25 year old boy is the same angel (or possibly) devil that sent you over the edge just a moment ago, in more ways than one. 

He lays you down on his bed and hovers over you, his elbows just above your shoulders as he cradles the crown of your head. His face is so angelic right now as he admires you. You lean up and kiss that little freckle just beneath his eye like you wanted to earlier that day. He chuckles and sweeps a piece of hair off your forehead, leaning down to kiss your cheeks and nose. 

“So…how are you feeling?” he asks knowingly with a smirk, causing you to giggle. 

“Pretty fucking good,” you reply, running your hands down his back, stopping at his rock hard ass and pressing down so you can feel his throbbing cock between your legs. Your eyes widen when you feel how thick he is causing him to blush and turn red. “Okay, your turn now,” you say eagerly, pressing him up and off of you. 

“Wait! Just…hold on,” he says softly, laying you back down as he settles in next to you. “There’s no rush.” 

“You sure about that,” you giggle nervously as you glance down at his rock-hard cock aching to get out of his tight jeans. 

“I meant what I said earlier, and I won’t break a promise.” He leans in to softly place his hand on your throat, his thumb barely pressing on your pulse point. “I’m going to make you cum again, and I would like it if we could do it together, so just be here with me, okay?” 

You’re melting under his touch and his gaze right now. You’ve actually never felt so desperate to get someone off in your life, you're practically salivating for him, but he kisses you deeply again, and you relax and sigh into his mouth, so content to just stay there for hours. He pulls you on top of him, but with no urgency. Just to reposition and savor you some more. His hands lazily run up and down your back and hips, every so often moving to your shoulders and collar bones. You don’t know how long the two of you stayed that way. Just contentedly tasting and feeling one another. You move off of him to lay by his side and slowly slide your hand down his stomach. Once you reach the waistband of his jeans you glance at him to make sure he is okay if you keep going. He nods and bites his lip as you sit up and undo the button of his jeans, shoving them down with his boxer briefs just enough for his cock to spring free. You can see how painfully hard he is right now, the soft tip of his cock purple and dripping with pre-cum. The sight of it turns you on and you feel a rush of heat in your core. Leaning over, you kiss him hard and fast as you slide your hand down to grasp his length, rubbing your thumb over the tip. He groans and holds your hand still, his brow furrowing. “No, not yet.” 

“Yes, Danny. Now. I need to feel you inside of me right now. Please make me cum again. Please.” you beg, in between kisses that you can barely tear yourself away from. 

He lets out an animalistic sort of grunt and flips you over on your back, hovering over you again. “You sure you’re ready?” he checks, his eyes going back and forth between yours, searching for the answer. 

“Yes, I’m fucking ready. Please I have to feel you,” you whine, gripping at his back and shoulders, trying to pull him down on top of you. 

“How do you want me?” 

“What?” you ask, confused. You just want him to feel good right now. You don’t care. 

“I said, how do you want me? What makes you feel the best? Tell me and I’ll do it. Trust me, I’m going to get off either way, but I’m not sure exactly how long I can last, so tell me. How do you want me?” 

His voice is so steady and sure. You’d never know how badly he is aching for release. You gently press him up and off of you again and silently move to the end of the bed, bending over and resting your elbows on the mattress. “Like this,” you say, as steadily as possible, gazing into his eyes. He jumps up and quickly pulls off his pants and underwear the rest of the way before walking over to his toiletry bag, pulling out a condom. You can hear him tear the wrapper and slide it on as he moves to stand behind you. You brace yourself, preparing for the stretch, but all you feel is a soft kiss on your shoulder and a gentle hand resting on the small of your back. 

“Are you ready?” he whispers in your ear. You grind your ass against him in response. He lines himself up and slowly sinks into you, both of you moaning in response. Fuck. Yeah, it is definitely a stretch, but you are craving his release even more than yours, so you immediately start moving back against him, but he grips your hips tightly, holding you steady. His breathing is uneven and you realize he’s trying to keep it together and last long enough for you to cum. 

“Fuck, you feel so much better than I even imagined,” he mutters under his breath and you smile to yourself, loving the way you’re making him feel. He slowly thrusts into you at a steady pace. You let him take the reins for a bit, until he starts to move faster. You match his pace and bounce back onto him, your bodies slapping together, the obscene sounds of his dick fucking into you filling the room. His whimpers and moans are the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard. Better than any song ever written. You can tell he’s getting close when his rhythm falters slightly and he reaches around to circle your clit, trying to coax another orgasm out of you. Your eyes widen in shock as you feel that coil again, tightening with each thrust, each circle of his finger. Your legs start to shake and you whimper and moan, matching his beautiful song.

“Danny, I-I think..I think I’m…” you try to speak between labored breaths, but you’re almost in shock at how quickly you’re about to get there. 

“I know,” he says, his voice deep and raspy. “I can feel it.” He grits his teeth and closes his eyes, brows furrowed as he digs his fingers into your hip. His hand on your clit is starting to falter, so you replace his with yours. He grips your shoulder, pushing you back onto him hard and fast. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He repeats over and over, his voice getting higher with each word before his whimpers take over. 

That does it. His pitiful whimpers and moans send you over the edge, and you cry out his name with choked out moans as you bury your face in the sheets, gripping them until your knuckles turn white. He falls down on top of you, breathing heavily on your back, drops of sweat dripping from his brow onto your shoulder. You don’t know how long you two stayed that way, slowly steading your breathing together, unable to move as he softens inside of you. After a while he pulls out of you gently, walking to the bathroom. He comes back out a moment later with a wet washcloth, offering it to you before stepping away again. You clean yourself up, shocked at how much of a mess there is even with him wearing a condom. Standing up, you head over to the balcony to gather your clothes before heading out.  

“Are you leaving?” he asks, walking up to you and handing you a glass of water. 

“Oh, well…I just thought-” you start. 

“Stay. Please?” You get lost in his eyes for a moment, so enamored with him your heart aches as he grazes his knuckles along your cheek.

“Okay, yeah. I’d love to stay,” you smile sweetly. 

You both lay back down in bed, the door to the balcony still open and the moonlight shining in after Danny turns the lamp off. You turn onto your side and he spoons you, reaching around to hold your hands against your chest. 

“Thank you, Danny,” you whisper, feeling a little silly, but vulnerable at the moment. He thanked you, right? 

“Oh, sweet girl. Trust me, the pleasure was all mine.”

He kisses your ear and within seconds the waves and rocking of the ship lull you off to sleep.

I hope you guys liked it! Chapter 4 may take a bit longer, but I'm so eager to continue with this story!

@dazeebean @spark-my-nature @smoking-jakelane @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @geekgirlinthegreen

[fruitstopia]

┊❛ 𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗀𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗋 ❜┊headcannonsᵎᵎ

A / N : ( ethan winters x bb!reg reader - implied fem!reader ) give this man the #1 best dad mug cause he fluffin' deserves it ! writting for him was so much fun ~ i hope you enjoy reading this as much as i like writting for him

━━ oh... ethan would be the best caregiver ever!! especially for a baby!regressor

━━ he ' d be so soo gentle with you and very affectionate too always carrying you around , attaching you to his hip like a koala while he goes on about his day

━━ mornings with him would feel the most serene , when youre still sleepy but its almost eleven and he could feel hunger rumbling thru your tummy , he ' ll put you on his lap with his hand propted up to hold a bottle of warm milk for you to suckle while the other one is swipping through newspaper pages. he ' s a supermom

━━ daddy!ethan would never raise his voice at you nor could he get mad at you. theres this special voice he use to you & only for you , it never fails to lull you to sleep

━━ daddy!ethan would be so experienced with caring for baby youu , always knows how to act and acts fast , he knows you like the palm of his hand

━━ daddy is so proud of you that he doesn ' t move on until you know it . every lil accomplishment you do like saying his name or just by simply getting through the day , he always praises you for them

━━ " dad ' s lil baby did so well today! i ' m so proud of you sweetcheeks " or " that ' s right baby! e-than , that ' s me ! oh my baby ' s learning so fast !! don ' t you ever grow up love " cCRRYINGGG

━━ he would cherish every single thing you gave him , drawings you did are scattered on the fridge ( even if they are just swirlies or unconsistent blobs ) and he has cameras that he brings everywhere one is an instant camera and the other one is a digicam so he could record you & store polaroids of you

━━ daddy is the most best at calming you down ! whenever you ' re fussy or in the verge of crying he ' ll gather you on his arms and rock you , luring you back and forth while he whispers reassurance to your ears

━━ "oh let it out sunshine . . it ' s okay , daddy ' s here for you"

━━ will do your hair for you and the outfits he puts you on are GOOD (/´△`＼) he ' s such a girl dad omygod , in his spare time where you ' re down for a nap or too occupied playing he ' ll search up youtube tutorials on hairstyles that are perfect for your hairtype , easy breakfast videos and mom-hacks IMCRYING

━━ da ' s have a myriad of nicknames for you , he can ' t keep count . it changes every other sentence

━━ daddy spoils you profusely , staring at a teddy for more than 5 seconds will automatically to him- means that you want it . he doesnt let you know he ' s getting you it immediately though , letting hours go by and if you ' ve been a good bab then he ' ll surprise you with it

━━ " daddy loves you more than anything " is something he says to you everyday , there wouldn ' t be a day when he forgets to

[galactic-knightmare]

Yet another Au!

So, I had mentioned a slime rancher au in the bowuigi discord, and soon enough me and a couple others were just brainstorming and slapping it together, and this is (one of) the results!

(also tried a different artstyle. its kinda a mix of my usual style and canon lmao)

So Essentially, the bros move in to their own ranch, and their neighboring ranches being home to Bowser, Peach, and Daisy. Daisy and Peach share a ranch, with Peach usually handling the basic care of the slimes and plants (hence why I gave her a more gardener-kinda outfit) while Daisy usually goes exploring for new slimes. their Neighbor, Bowser, mostly specializes in Boom, Fire, Crystal, and Rock slimes, preferring the more volatile ones since they can’t really do much to him. (he’s still a koopa here, mostly cause I just didn’t want to make him human lmao) He’s also best friends with Peach- no romance there or anything.

He ends up meeting the bros when Mario ends up disturbing his boom slimes somehow (either with extremely loud music or something else). The two end up in an argument and there is Immediate dislike between them. Luigi, knowing how intense and... dense, his brother can be sometimes, decides to come over to Bowser’s ranch and apologize for it, and Bowser ends up thinking “alright, his brother’s not bad, so I guess I can tolerate them being my neighbors” and they just slowly befriend each other over time.

As for the slimes, there’s bits of ideas on those too!

Mario seems to attract literally every cat-like slime in existence. He goes for a nap under a tree and then wakes up under a pile of tabby slimes. You turn your back on him and when you look over again he’s got Hunter slimes all over him. He has a single Saber slime that is his baby and definitely spoiled named Pawline. (I headcanon Mario with a Calico cat named Pawline, so this is her in the au I guess XD) Luigi tends to be swarmed by batty and phosphor slimes, mostly as a reference to the Luigi’s Mansion games, but also because Batty Slimes are cute. They don’t swarm him as much as the cat slimes swarm Mario though. He also has a Yolky Slime named Sunny. When the two first saw Sunny Mario wanted to try and cook them because they looked like a giant egg. thankfully, Luigi said no and took Sunny in (and away from the stove). Sunny usually just sits around in the chicken coops, though every now and then you’ll find them Hiding in Luigi’s hat.

Peach has a bunch of Pink Flutter Largos... I don’t think I need to explain my reasoning there LMAO And Daisy has a bunch of tangle slimes, mostly because she thinks their cool, but also their one of the few plant slimes, and well, plants, flowers, daisies... you get the idea... XD

Bowser, since he’s a koopa and essentially heatproof, just isn’t affected by boom slimes and fire slimes. he’s also too big for a vacpack, so he just. picks up a handfull of slimes whenever he needs to move them around. At one Point Luigi is just. watching, as Bowser moves a bunch of boom largos, completely unaffected by the largos exploding in his arms. We were a bit(?) torn on what to do with the Koopalings and junior? Someone suggested that their a bunch of boom slimes that Bowser babies, though Personally I prefer them still being his kids. Maybe at the start of the au their all on a trip with their grandpa kamek? I just find the idea funny that during their talks, Bowser mentions he has kids to Luigi, but doesn’t mention that he has eight. So when they do get back from their trip, Luigi is just stunned at the sheer amount of kids he has lmao

Anyway yeah, that’s.. essentially it I think. I have other ideas so we’ll see if I make more lmao. I won’t write anything for it though, aside from maybe a oneshot here or there. (though I do think there’s at least one person from the server who is writing a fic for the au. Memory ain’t that great...)

[joyful-enchantress]

Evergreen | Loki x Fem!Reader

banner created by the amazing @springdandelixn

A/N: Hello! Enjoy this festive drabble that I wrote for @fictive-sl0th as part of the Secret Santa fic exchange that she so graciously organized. This can be read alone, but could also be considered a companion to I'm Dreaming of a Green Christmas.

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1.3k (I know, I know... not technically a drabble)

Christmas Eve.

It was a special day for you and Loki -- it was the day he finally asked to court you after more than a year of relentlessly flirting with each other and finding every excuse to be together.

As you reminisced, you absent-mindedly reached your delicate fingers up to toy with the emerald pendant resting against your collarbone; Loki had gifted it to you this very night two years ago, when you both came to your senses and freed the feelings you had been harboring for each other for so long. You couldn't help the smile that graced your lips at the memory. He was your best friend. Your soulmate. Your person.

As always, you and Loki were planning to do your gift exchange for each other tonight, in the privacy of his own quarters. It was one of your favorite traditions you had begun with him, and it gave the two of you time to yourselves, away from the hubbub that inevitably would come tomorrow with Christmas Day in the Avengers Tower.

To celebrate the two years that you and Loki have been officially together, you wanted to do something special. For his gift this year, you had designed and ordered a custom Movado watch for him. The timepiece boasted a two-tone wrist strap of shining silver and yellow gold; the signature 12 o’clock dot and slender hands were cast in yellow gold, and set inside the golden case was the most stunning emerald green dial. On the back of the case you had engraved: The time I spend with you will never be enough. I love you, Loki. It was sleek, elegant, and beautiful — just like him.

The time came for you to head to Loki’s and you could barely contain your excitement; you restlessly bounced and rocked on the balls of your feet as you waited for the elevator to arrive on his floor. The gift box in your hands — blanketed in sleek black wrapping paper and tied off with a glittering emerald green ribbon — complemented your outfit perfectly. A skin-tight black turtleneck was tucked into a tea-length satin skirt of the richest emerald. Your look was completed with sparkling gold heels and, of course, your necklace.

The elevator dinged, signaling your arrival, and you rushed out and nearly skipped the whole way to his door. Before you could even knock, the door swung open, revealing the object of all your love, adoration, and desire.

“Loki…” you breathed. You would never tire of laying eyes on him — each time you did, it felt like the first. His raven curls were neatly slicked back, framing his perfect, angular face. He flashed you a beaming smile and his emerald eyes were alight with excitement and adoration. He was dressed to the nines, in his go-to all-black suit and tie combo, the tie clip you gifted him two years ago displayed proudly against his chest, the single emerald on it glittering when it caught the light. He was beautiful. And he was yours.

"Darling," he returned, "You look absolutely stunning." As he said it, he took your face in his hands and lowered his face to yours, meeting your lips in the most sensual kiss. It was slow and gentle, but there was an urgency to it, as if he might never get to kiss you again. Was he nervous about something?

"Merry Christmas and Happy Anniversary, Lohks. I've been looking forward to seeing you all day."

"As have I, my love. Every moment I'm not with you seems to drag on for eternity," he whispered against your lips. "Happy Anniversary and Merry Christmas, Y/N"

Once you peeled yourselves away from each other and made your way inside his quarters, you placed the gift box under the tree, and you noticed that it was the only one there. That's strange, you briefly thought to yourself for a passing moment, but there were more important matters at hand -- such as the devastatingly good-looking god sitting on the couch waiting for you to join him. You sat down together and enjoyed the hot cocoa he had made, complete with marshmallows and peppermint sticks.

"You're certainly dressed up this year, Loki. I mean, you always look dashingly handsome, of course, but a full suit and tie this year? I'm a lucky lady," you smirked at him.

He chuckled at your remark. God how you loved his laugh. "I wanted to brandish the exquisite gift you bestowed on me two years ago, darling," he explained while gesturing to the tie clip. "And that required wearing a tie. Plus," he continued, looking directly into your eyes, "this is a rather special day, as it marks two years that we've been together romantically. And I couldn't be happier, Y/N."

"Neither could I," you sighed contentedly.

As you sipped your hot cocoa, chatting and sharing the occasional chocolate-laced kiss, Christmas music was softly playing in the background. Everything was perfect in this moment.

"Well, darling, shall we exchange gifts then, before we get too lost in each other to remember or care?" he asked as he brushed his nose against your neck.

"Yes!" you exclaimed as you popped up from the couch and began walking towards the tree to retrieve his gift, blabbering on as you did. "Oh, Loki, I'm so excited for you to open yours, I really hope you like it. I wanted to do something a bit more special this year and --"

You were cut off mid-sentence and your jaw went slack at the sight before you as you turned around, Loki's watch box clasped tightly in your hand. Your best friend and lover was down on one knee, holding in his hands a small box that contained the most beautiful diamond ring you had ever seen. The ring had a twisted band of both platinum and yellow gold. The platinum parts of the twist were encrusted with emeralds, and led directly to the center stone -- a sparkling princess cut diamond -- where they formed a loose halo.

You gasped, speechless, as you approached him.

"Y/N, darling, I love you with everything that I am, and I toiled for weeks, endeavoring to come up with the perfect way to propose to you. Since you are deserving of all the Nine Realms, I wanted to make sure my proposal was lavish enough to reflect that. But then, I realized, there is nothing flashy or performative about our love. Our love is real, it is steadfast, and it is something that comes along once in a generation. It is timeless and beautiful to behold, without even trying. So here I am, in the one place we spend the most time together -- the place where we have shared the most treasured memories and sweet nothings -- asking you to spend the rest of your life with me. Y/N, will you do me the undeniable honor of becoming my wife?"

Tears of joy sprang from your eyes as you listened to him. You couldn't believe it. This was really happening.

"Of course I will," you managed to speak, "Yes, Loki, I'll marry you!"

At your words, he rose from his feet and placed the gorgeous ring on your left ring finger. Looking at him, you would have thought he had just conquered all Nine Realms, with the way his chest swelled with pride and his eyes swam with unshed tears of awe and adoration -- for you.

He wrapped you in a warm embrace and kissed you with more fire and passion than ever before, his soft lips moving against yours in a dance of celebratory ownership. Gone was the urgency from earlier; he was able to take his time now, knowing that you agreed to remain his for all your days.

You would happily don his colors forever. Ever his. Evergreen.

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

A/N: Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! The 3-word prompt I was given to write towards was "Christmas Eve proposal" Many thanks to @fictive-sl0th for the prompt, for organizing this Secret Santa event, and for allowing me to participate, even though I was a late submission. You are a gem.

If you would like to see pictures of the watch and the ring from this fic, I have included them below.

[sshbpodcast]

Character Spotlight: Hikaru Sulu

By Ames

Have at thee! Pick up your foil and get into the proper stance as A Star to Steer Her By shines this week’s character spotlight on the Enterprise’s helmsman (and occasional musketeer), Hikaru Sulu. We may have had to get a little nitpicky with noteworthy moments from Scott last week because he’s just used less than the three main characters, and Sulu will be even tougher because he does even less and then is gone for a lot of season two while he was off filming The Green Berets (which I wouldn’t even recommend, so that’s a waste!).

That’s not to say Sulu isn’t a great presence in The Original Series, and we came up with some great (and not so great) moments from this ship’s jack of all trades. He swashbuckles, he collects pistols, he tends to plants, he quips with his Russian bestie. Check out the best and worst of Sulu below, listen to this week’s banter on the podcast (discussion starts at 1:19:43), and give us warp speed on my mark. Mark!

[Images © CBS/Paramount]

Best Moments

Someone give this man a hand… plant Sulu started the series with a passion for botany that never really came up much after it was established in “The Man Trap” (even when it would have been applicable, as you’ll see), but it was endearing to see him caring for Beauregard and worrying about his flowery friend after a salt vampire masquerading as crewman Green gave him a fright. There there, Beauregard.

Richelieu, beware! One of the most memorable moments for Sulu and also for the whole damn series comes in “The Naked Time” where we see our favorite helmsman get affected by the space madness disease and start running around the ship shirtless with a foil, provoking crewmen into duels. It’s that bonkers kind of fun episode that really worked for TOS and gave us decades of referential humor after.

Lower us down a pot of hot coffee While we gave Kirk a lot of guff about his characterization(s) in “The Enemy Within,” we’ve really got to give Sulu credit for his work in the B plot. While slowly freezing on Alfa 177, he manages to keep morale up with the occasional light-hearted room service call to the Enterprise. And this is the first we see of what we dubbed the “Sulu Maneuver,” when you heat up some rocks with a phaser! Clever!

He’s doing a countdown! Okay, this one’s here partly because of the running joke we made out of Bailey’s delivery pointing out Sulu’s rather macabre countdown, but Sulu also displays some serious chops in “The Corbomite Maneuver.” Bailey can’t handle the pressure, and Sulu has to literally lean over and do his job for him at the same time, all without losing count!

You are not of the body Mind-controlled Sulu is best Sulu and gets some really fun acting out of George Takei every time. We see it in the afore-mentioned “The Naked Time,” in “Catspaw,” and in “This Side of Paradise,” to name a few, but my favorite mind-controlled Sulu has got to be in “The Return of the Archons” because of all the extra points he gets for this ruffly outfit!

It’s Greek to me Let’s also commend Sulu for rigging up the ship’s phasers to destroy Apollo’s temple in “Who Mourns for Adonais?” Why this plan worked I have absolutely no idea. What self-respected god entity puts all of their powers in a single object? Trelane wouldn’t gaff this hard. Anyway, props to Sulu for somehow avoiding phasering the humans who were hiding only ten feet away like fools.

Lay back and thinking about vegetables Holy cow, guys. A whole episode in which only Spock, Uhura, and Sulu are featured from the entire cast? It must be “The Slaver Weapon” from The Animated Series. Only TAS could get away with giving to Sulu scenes that would go to Kirk any other day, and he owns it! He outwits the Kzinti. He avoids their telepathy by thinking about broccoli. He does it all!

Don’t call me tiny As usual, some of the best moments we’ve collected come from the films, where the characters all really get the shine. Even the minor characters like Sulu, who gets to sashay around in what we previously dubbed the Ta’cape in The Search for Spock and hold his own against a security officer who stands probably a full foot taller than him, like a small dog in a fight. Bowwow!

Special delivery While we’re a little sad that Sulu had probably the fewest character scenes in The Voyage Home (they evidently cut a family reunion scene due to bad child acting), we do have to thank this San Franciscan for obtaining and flying a helicopter around to deliver the transparent aluminum to the ship. How did he pull it off? We’ll just have to use our imagination.

Emergency Landing Plan B Wow, we’ve had more good moments from The Final Frontier than bad ones to mention in these character spotlight posts, which is kind of fascinating considering that film on the whole is among our least favorites. But when Sulu totally rocks it and manually lands the shuttle in the bay using a barricade, we have to admit that the film knew how to use its characters.

Fly her apart then! How often does Sulu get to save the day? Not often enough, I say, because when he gets the opportunity to have the Excelsior join in the battle in The Undiscovered Country, it’s positively thrilling. Your heart just wells at the love these crewmembers have for each other that Sulu would ignore orders to come rescue his friends with passion that I wish we got to see more often in the show.

Tossing a match into a pool of gasoline For the 30th anniversary of Star Trek, Voyager treated the fans with a little Sulu action in “Flashback” and he proved to be just as heroic as ever! Not only do we get to see his decision to go save his old crewmates, but we see him outwit Kang by igniting the sirillium in a nebula. Not only that, but he does the humane and diplomatic thing and makes sure it won’t destroy the Klingon ship utterly. Now that’s a great birthday gift!

—

Worst Moments

It’s a he plant – a girl can tell Ya know how we were lauding Sulu for all his great botany work before? Well, he insists that Beauregard’s name is Gertrude for some reason in “The Man Trap.” Dude, just let Janice name him Beauregard if she wants to. He’s her plant, you just feed him sometimes. And frankly, Beauregard is the perfect name for this plant, so we have to give you points off for this one.

I’ll protect you, fair maiden Another instance that’s on both our good and bad lists comes in “The Naked Time.” Drunk or not, assaulting his coworkers is not okay, pal. And Uhura can defend herself from the likes of Richelieu or whoever else. Can we do away with the constant need to protect female characters like they’re damsels in distress? Luckily, Uhura managed to own this moment, as we’ll certainly see next week.

I knew he would Here’s another example of Chris putting the same moment in both of his lists. Funny as that interaction with Bailey was, did we really need the countdown in “The Corbomite Maneuver”? Balok was already doing it for us, as we could tell when the Clint Howard–shaped alien was supposed to repeat “one minute” after Sulu, but the line was cut, and Sulu reacts to it anyway like a weirdo.

Fantasy island, er, planet Most things in “Shore Leave” are perplexing since the episode was being written on the fly and all the characters are acting entirely out of character (we postulated the whole planet was drugged, but who knows). So when Sulu is evidently thinking about samurai for some reason, we can just blame the writers if that comes across as a little racist, especially considering Takei fought to NOT be written as a samurai in “The Naked Time.”

If it were two feet from me You know how we were giving credit earlier to Sulu for caring for Beauregard and having a knack for botany? Well all that goes out the window in “This Side of Paradise” where Sulu suddenly can’t notice a plant that is literally right next to him and slowly turning to face him. I call this man’s botany skills into question. No wonder he misgendered Beauregard! 

You are away from your post, Mister We can give normal universe Sulu a pass on this one, but his parallel universe self in “Mirror, Mirror” is just a monster. While it’s some good fun to watch Takei got down with his bad self by trying to get the captain killed and all that jazz, it is just plain uncomfortable to watch him terrorizing Uhura, so it’s definitely worth a place on our list.

A literal dagger of the mind In “And the Children Shall Lead,” it’s unclear how far the mental powers of Gorgan go since sometimes the crew only hallucinates things and sometimes they are straight-up mind controlled. Sulu seeing a ton of knives in space (which is just plain impossible and he should know it) is the weirdest instance yet. Kirk has to tell him what he sees isn’t there, but does he understand that? Who knows; it’s a nonsensical episode.

I am for you, Sulu This is just a little moment, but Sulu falls (literally!) for one of the oldest cliches in horror writing: When Losira is coming for him in “That Which Survives,” Sulu backs away and trips on some rocks like a chump, leaving himself prone to her attack. And what makes even less sense is that her touching him doesn’t kill him like the others; it only disrupts the cells in his shoulder. Like a chump.

It’s Walter backwards! More of Sulu getting made to look like a chump comes in The Animated Series episode “The Infinite Vulcan” when he nearly gets himself killed after getting bitten by a retlaw: a walking planet with poisonous bite. Luckily, he gets saved by the Phylosians, but you’d think a botanist like Sulu would know better. Oh wait, I’ve already questioned his botany skills, so there’s that.

You’re a wizard, Sulu! I can’t rant enough on what a trainwreck “The Magicks of Megas-Tu” is, but here’s a taste. To test out how to use magic (not even going to start; we’ll be here all day), Sulu’s first impulse is to make himself a pretty woman and then go in to kiss her. In front of everyone. What the hell, Sulu? I expected better from you, man, but making yourself a sex doll is utterly ridiculous.

One tiny step for a tiny man One more from The Animated Series, and this one’s stupidity is compounded by the super inconsistent animation. When he’s been shrunk in “The Terratin Incident” to somewhere between one foot and one inch tall depending on the art frame, Sulu goes to turn a dial, somehow trips on it, and falls off the equivalent of a ten-story building only to break a leg. Ugh.

Like a bull in a China ship I have to give Sulu grief about something that bugs me whenever I see it in Star Trek. Did you ever notice that the crew seem to use breakable items only so they can get smashed? In any other scene, the ceramic tea cup that we see in The Undiscovered Country might be metal or plastic or the paper cups we saw at one point, but because we need to see it break, it’s ceramic, and I slowly lose my mind about it.

—

Oh my. We’re reducing to impulse speed to prepare for more of these character spotlights, so keep your eyes here for more in the series! Also, keep up with our watchthrough of Enterprise over on SoundCloud or wherever you podcast, challenge us to a duel over on Facebook or Twitter, and take a moment to smell the flowers, if you take a half a second to notice them.

[lemme-just-oops]

Heyaaaa... How would AT boys react when mc gifted the boys a ring? Thanksss...

Alpheratz: He does not like jewelry, because it is a hassle to put them on and remember where he put them. So, although you will not ever see him wearing it, if you catch a glimpse in his room, he has it put near his bed with a little note to remember that you gave it to him. Of course, he would never forget, but he wants to be cautious.

Arcturus: Happy little man. Really enjoys it! Even more so if it is a cheaper ring, because he thinks they look sweeter and suit him more. Shows it off to his friends! And he will keep it safe. If he ever were to lose it, he would turn every single rock just for a chance to find it.

Pollux: He directly asks if you are proposing. If not, he still celebrates getting a friendship ring, because he will look hood with it. He might get a few more rings to match his newly discovered passion for jewelry. (Will lose it quickly though, and will try to cover that up.)

Sirius: Wears the ring as a necklace. Though he mostly hides it beneath his shirts, so you may never know. And even if you see it, he will still claim that he would never wear something like that. Secretely has a jewelry box in his room, extremely expensive stuff usually.

Spica: It may not be easy to satisfy his rich demands, but a gift is a gift and he will treat it with the respect you showed him. Though he will not always wear it, as he always matches his outfits perfectly. When he is not wearing it, he may keep it on his desk as a lucky charm.

Vega: He says that he does not like jewelry on his hands, as they influence his fighting skills. So, he keeps it on a keychain instead. Does not show it off, and if anyone asks he will directly say that it is none of their business.

[kyle-dobbs]

Kyle was born in Michigan. A fact he didn’t think often about, but tonight was probably a very fitting night for him to think about it. Many, many years ago, in the early 90’s, he was born in Michigan, in the middle of winter. The snow was thick, the roads covered with it. Angela was with Johnny and the band on their tour bus, and this was just one of the many extraordinary facts about this story. His mom would tell him about it often. Her water broke just as they had left a small town called Saginaw, where Whipplash had played a show. She was a tough little cookie, Angela, said she would be fine delivering on the bus as long as it wouldn’t inconvenience anyone, because that way they could still make it to Ann Arbor in time for the next show. Johnny of course, wouldn’t hear of it. He made the driver turn all the bus around and back they went to Saginaw. 

And it was there, in the dead of night in a hospital in Saginaw, that Kyle and Tyson were born. The ward was full, the halls crowded, and they didn’t let Johnny in. Of course they wouldn’t — the nurses spotted half a dozen men, all dressed in leather with tousled hair up to the ceiling and their black eyeliner and simply said no. 

It angered Johnny, but there was little he could do. And yet, that was not enough to stop somebody like Johnny ‘The Rainmaker’ Dobbs. He scaled a pipe that wound up the side of the building, aided by liquor and pure bravado as band and crew egged him on from below. 

“He’s fucking crazy.”

People said that about Johnny a lot. He believed it, too. That was what you needed to be a frontman in a band, he used to tell Kyle before Kyle could even comprehend what that word meant. “You gotta be a little wild, a little crazy, to get up on stage and pour your heart out to thousands every single night,” he would tell his two year old son. He would do exactly that when he went onstage. And they loved him for it. 

But he also did other crazy things, like climbing a pipe off the side of a railing to break into a hospital window. And he sure did break into that window. It was only open half an inch, he couldn’t get it to budge higher, so he slammed his shoulder into it. It gave way like shattered rock candy. 

He ended up in the burn ward where all he saw were bandaged faces, like a bad dream.  

“Ineedtoseemywife,” he drunkenly slurred, flask still hanging from a notch in his belt. His arm was bleeding from the glass. Someone from behind a mummy mask of bandages mumbled something at him.  

It took longer than it should have, but he found the right room. Angela had already delivered, and was recovering in a bed in the corner. 

“Where’s the babies?” he asked her, confused. They were supposed to be here, weren’t they? 

“They took ‘em,” Angela said. Drunk Johnny couldn’t process this.

“Took ‘em where?”

“To the nursery.” 

He looked flabbergasted. He looked at Angela and Angela looked back. She looked like she had been through hell and back. What the hell happened to her? 

“What the hell for?” 

Angela looked like she was trying to explain but didn’t have the right words for it. She was really too fucking drained. She fell asleep before she got enough words out. 

Johnny Godzilla stomped around the hospital some more and didn’t calm down until he found the right place, that big sheet of glass behind which all the little baby incubators were. He didn’t have to look long for the twins, because only one pair of beds was pushed so close together. As soon as he spotted them in a corner, sleeping side by side, he calmed down some. His face looked like a big moon, full and warm. A tear rolled down his cheek and he felt that overwhelming warmth that humans feel when they see something from them existing out in the world.His wife had given him two beautiful sons. It was a good day. He left the hospital to go drink with the boys some more. 

Two weeks later, they left the hospital with their two bundles, back on the tour bus. Johnny went round the nearest furniture shops and outfitted the place with cribs and a changing station, and they were off again. Once a hard partier, he turned tyrant-dictator: no one could smoke or drink on the main tour bus. Loud noises were not allowed. Everything was going to be calm and peaceful to accommodate the babies on tour. The other guys quickly ditched riding on the main bus and hopped onto the roadies’ bus. 

At the shows, Angela would stay behind with the babies while Johnny went onstage. Johnny wanted to bring them on the stage, but Angela thought it would be a bad idea for two literal newborns to be there, no matter how badly Johnny wanted to have his Simba and Rafiki moment. (A concept he wouldn’t have thought of, Kyle realized, since that movie wasn’t out yet). 

Then after the show he would come back to Angela and the boys and they would spend time together. He wrote a song for the twins, a soft acoustic piece, right around this time. It would never make it to the next Whipplash album because Johnny would leave and Whipplash would call an indefinite hiatus, but the song remained, on a piece of paper somewhere, lyrics buried and gone. Angela had tried to find that notebook once and failed, and later Kyle had also looked, in vain. 

By the time they flew back to Los Angeles, the twins were 5 weeks old. Angela was exhausted and relieved to be home instead of on the road, even though they packed in a lot of memories packed in those weeks on the road. They had already set up a nursery room before they had left, complete with their names above two twin cribs. Kyle and Tyson in block letters above their beds, in baby blue. Coming home and putting the babies in those beds felt like a personal victory after everything. Angela couldn’t sleep and she would check on them every couple of hours the first few weeks. She had to be sure, even though Johnny had bought a fancy (for the time) Fisher-Price baby monitor set and she checked it every twenty minutes. She still had to physically see them with her own two eyes. They were loved and doted on in every single way possible growing up, not just by Angela but by the rotating door of babysitters who Johnny hired to help Angela with the kids. Those first three years when the money was still there and they had the Malibu house, they wanted for nothing. Maybe it was a little crazy with the parties all the time, but no one could say it wasn’t fun.