#out here looking like ketchup and mustard

[forgave-me-not]

face card

[zorobff]

dress up. (toji fushiguro x f!reader)

synopsis: in an attempt to make some memories, you come up with the idea of a family costume for this year’s halloween. toji and megumi might need a little convincing, though…

a/n: first fic in like a year and first time writing for my babygirl toji :3

word count: 1.1k

toji carelessly lets himself fall next to you, his sheer body weight causing the couch to jolt slightly. he nods at your phone. “whatcha looking at?”

“just some costumes. halloween’s coming up and—”

a smile creeps up on toji’s face before you can get another word out. “you shoulda asked me first, baby. i got a few good ideas. patient and nurse could work, i love a woman in uniform—my woman in uniform. cop and prisoner, too. would give us a good excuse to finally buy some handcuffs.” he winks.

“sounds like you’ve been thinking about this for a while,” you tease. “but unfortunately, none of those are gonna work.”

toji’s face falls ever so slightly and you have to hold back a laugh at seeing a grown man pout.

“had you let me finish, you’d know i want to do a family costume.”

“baby, c’mon,” he groans, rubbing his face. “i never go all out f’ halloween, you know that.”

you arch a brow. “you seemed eager a few seconds ago.”

he huffs. “that was different.”

“mhm, sure,” you reply, sarcastically. “i don’t mind suggestions, just a little more family friendly and less… porn-y.”

“where’s the fun in that?” he deadpans.

you smack his bicep. “save the roleplaying for later. i mean, just look at how cute these are.”

you hand him your phone and he reluctantly takes it. he’s seen this app before; pinterest, he believes it’s called. his eyes roam over the page for a moment, seeing various families of three dressed in an array of costumes. rock, paper and scissors. ketchup, mustard and a hot dog. fork, knife, and spoon.

he hands you back your phone when he decides he’s seen enough. “baby, those are humiliating.”

“no they’re not! they’re fun.” you snatch the device back, furiously scrolling. “besides, we’re making memories for megumi to look back on when he’s older.”

“have you met the little twerp? he’s practically a 70 year old man in the body of a second grader.” toji shakes his head with a smile. “you sure he’d even wanna do this?”

“we should at least ask him. then he can’t say we never tried.”

toji’s eyes soften; you really were giving this your all. your dedication to making megumi’s childhood a happy and healthy one was something that tugged at his heart strings; especially since toji had never received that kind of affection in his youth. and yet, here was a beautiful woman he was privileged to call his wife trying her best to break that generational curse. he truly was a lucky man.

“megumi!” shouts toji, suddenly determined to make this family costume work. “get in here!”

megumi’s little voice comes back muffled from his upstairs bedroom. “wait, i’m almost done with this level!”

“tch, he’s glued to that damn thing. what’s it called? a switch?” toji shakes his head and mumbles, “should’ve never let you buy it f’ him.”

“don’t be jealous,” you tease. “if you’re good, i’ll get you one for christmas too.”

toji smirks. “actually, i wanted to ask for a special gift this year.”

“oh yeah? what’s that?”

“y’know how megumi’s been askin’ for a sibling—”

you shove his shoulder and he laughs.

toji takes that as his cue to leave and talk to megumi, standing from the couch with an exaggerated groan. (you always made fun of him for it, claiming that it was such an old man thing to do. he always refuted that you knew what you were getting into when you married someone his age.)

he heads upstairs, delivering a firm knock when he reaches megumi’s door. “get out here, kiddo. need to talk to ya real quick.”

he hears a groan then the shuffling of feet. the door swings open and there stands his son, eyebrows furrowed and lips downturned. clearly, he wasn’t thrilled about having to pause his game.

“sheesh, kid,” toji huffs. “don’t make that face, starting to look like your old man.”

“what is it, dad?” he sighs in exasperation.

“we’re dressing up for halloween this year. as a family.”

that catches the eight year old off guard. “what? why?”

“for the memories or somethin’.”

“i don’t really wanna…” megumi trails off.

toji scratches the back of his head. “i hear ya. but it’ll make your mom real happy so we’re doin’ it.”

megumi purses his lips. “what’s the costume?”

“i dunno. we can’t seem t’ decide. got any ideas?”

“hmmm… i kinda wanted to be michael meyers this year.”

“it’s a group costume, megumi, ya can’t just— hang on, michael meyers? how the hell do you know about him?”

megumi shrugs as if he doesn’t see the issue. “i saw the movie at uncle shiu’s house once.”

toji makes a mental note to never shiu babysit megumi again. or at the very least, go over what movies a second grader is allowed to watch.

toji clears his throat. “well, forget you ever saw it. and don’t tell your mother, got it?”

megumi nods.

“good. erm… any other ideas?”

there’s a silence between the two.

“c’mon, kid, think of something. if not, your mom’s gonna make us dress up as condiments or silverware or somethin’ stupid.”

megumi groans, clearly fed up with the conversation. “can i just go back to playing super mario bros?”

it’s as if a lightbulb goes off in toji’s mind. “you like those guys?”

megumi nods slowly. “yeah… why?”

“you wanna be one of ‘em for halloween?”

megumi’s face lights up. “really? can i be luigi?”

toji grins, satisfied with his reaction. “don’t see why not.”

“cool! does that mean you’ll be mario?”

his dad chuckles. “guess so.”

“ooh and mom could be princess peach!”

“that’s the, uh… pink one, right?”

megumi giggles at his father’s obliviousness, nodding.

“works out then. i’ll go tell your mama.” he ruffles his son’s tar black hair. “thanks, megs. gonna make her day.”

megumi flashes a toothy grin then retreats back into his room.

when toji returns to the living room with a smug smile and pep in his step, you take notice.

“what’s with you?” you inquire.

“oh, nothin’. just got megumi to agree on a family costume, that’s all.”

you eye your husband with interest. “oh really?”

“you’re welcome, princess. speaking of which, you’re gonna need a pink dress and crown.”

“well, now i’m really curious.”

“you know that little game he likes? the one with the plumber brothers—” before he can even finish, you shoot up from your comfortable position.

“how didn’t i think of that sooner? it’s perfect!”

“megs seemed pretty excited about it too. knew exactly which character he wanted to be and everythin’.”

you nearly melt. “that’s all what i wanted. i’ll order the costumes right away.” you lean over to pepper his face in kisses. “thank you so much, toji.”

he grunts, though he’s smiling so hard his scar tilts upwards. “yeah, yeah. how about you thank me with that christmas present i was talkin’ about earlier?”

you pull away from him and grin. “nice try.”

[erosmutt]

　⯌　𝘽𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙂𝙞𝙧𝙡　⨟　𝗝. 𝗞𝗲𝗹𝗹𝘆, 𝗦. 𝗠𝗼𝗻𝗿𝗼𝗲, 𝗦. 𝗕𝗮𝗿𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿

〣 ﹒▨﹕CONTENT WARNINGS﹒foursome, incestuous activities, free use undertones, objectification, somnophilia, double penetration, degrading, face slapping, pussy eating, bukakke, large age gap (James is 46, Scott is 21, Sam is 20, reader is 19).

┄﹒WORD COUNT﹒⤹ 4,152

BNUUY'S NOTES┆Finally, the long awaited fic! Part of the "Partnered Up!" series, which is a series of fics where all the characters are paired up and are with reader. The first installment is this one! Titled after a Red Hot Chili Peppers song. Originally, I was going to title it after a Rob Zombie song, but here we are! I'm so excited to share this with all of you. Eat well my loves!

≻ㅤ﹒ㅤlet's have a coffee together!ㅤ﹒ㅤノ

"You're welcome over anytime y'wanna be, sweetiepie."

You snap out of your daydream, lifting your gaze. In front of you stood your best friends' dad, James, a spatula in his hand. The kitchen was filled with the scent of seasoned beef, the familiar sizzle in the cast iron skillet on the stove a comforting sound. Your eyes rake over his broad shoulders, his waist, and down to the curve of his ass in his dark blue boxers. His jeans rest low on his hips, barely held up by his butt. Man, he really needed to invest in a belt.

Right as you open your mouth to respond, the sound of heavy boots hitting the creaky floorboards accompanies the sizzle of the patties James was flipping. "Hey dad, hey babes." One of James' two sons, Scott Kelly, greets the two of you as he sits a hefty 30-count case of beer on the kitchen table. His brother, Sam Kelly, was scrolling through his phone as he nodded to you. "What’s up?"

Scott's hand slams down onto the top of the large case of beer. "Found a new flavor. Peach Busch." He grins triumphantly, while Sam snickers, shoving his phone into his pocket and sitting down in a chair next to you. "A girly drink." He sticks his tongue out at his brother, making the blond sneer. "Go fuck yourself." He mutters, tearing the flimsy cardstock handle to reach a can.

James kills the heat on the stove then tosses the spatula down onto the counter. "Watch your fuckin' mouths, alright? Jesus," he shakes his head, gathering the condiments - barbecue sauce, ketchup, mustard, mayo, and an assortment of other burger toppings - then he sets them down onto the counter. "Now sit down and hush so we can eat."

Sam licks his lips as he gets up, grabbing a few paper plates off the top of the microwave. "Huh," he hands everyone a plate, then plops down in the creaky kitchen chair, making it scrape against the dirty linoleum floor. The four of you join hands and a quick prayer later, you all take in the assortment he cooked. "So," his father begins, cracking open a beer. "How's it been goin' babygirl?"

You look up at him, in the middle of squirting ketchup onto your hamburger. "Uh, what does that entail?" You ask with a lopsided grin. Scott shrugs. "The usual, you know? Like, I dunno, any boyfriends or somethin'?" His baby blues flick up to glance at you before focusing back on his dinner. "You coulda made the fries last, Jesus." Sam mutters from next to you before taking a massive bite of his burger, brows furrowed as he hums in satisfaction.

After chatting, hot beers, and dinner, the four of you were piled on the couch, watching whatever movie you caught on TV. James had his socked feet kicked up on the busted up coffee table, his arm around you, the stench of cheap cologne and potent motor oil clinging to his skin and clothes. His hand caresses your shoulder, fiddling with your sleeve, squeezing, tracing shapes. Your eyelids flutter closed, feeling heavy. James looks down at you. "Sleepy, babygirl?" He pulls you closer up into his side. "Snuggle up buttercup." He chuckles, ruffling your hair affectionately as he removes his arm from around your shoulders to put it around your waist, large hand resting on your stomach.

As the movie goes on, Sam and Scott end up on the floor, playing UNO, oblivious to their father and best friend up on the couch. James' hand slips up your shirt, rubbing over your soft tummy, over your womb. His dark gaze falls on you, eyes half-lidding as he rubs over your warm skin, your stomach distended with all the dinner you ate. "Sheesh..." He whispers to himself, teeth gently digging into his bottom lip. 

He'd be absolutely lying to himself if he tried to say he didn't have dreams about you full and round with his baby. Disgusting, he knows. He's pushing 50 years old, his knees creak when he gets up after sitting awhile, he has to be in bed before 10pm or he'll get pissy - he has zero business wanting to knock up his young sons' barely legal best friend. You kept him young, kept him on his toes, kept him wanting to keep up with the times. He'd do nearly anything to get just a glimpse of your teenage pussy. Oh, he could already imagine how tight, how warm, how wet, how -

"Dad!" Scott's grating voice snaps James back to reality. He looks down at his son. "What?" He hisses, rubbing his hand over his dark stubble. Sam turns around and looks up at his dad, then at you, then back at his dad. "Wanna play cards with us?" He asks, waving the cards as if tempting James. You stir out of your half-asleep state, then you smile, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. "Mmm, UNO?" You move away from James, standing up. You turn to look at him and hold your hands out, giggling as he lets out a heavy sigh, taking your hands and rocking back and forth before using you to get up off the couch with a groan that makes your stomach coil. "To the kitchen. I ain't gettin' down on that damn floor." James says, making his way to the kitchen. You follow as Sam and Scott gather up the cards.

"James?" Your voice calls, your hand resting on the door frame of James' bedroom. He groans, opening his eyes to look at the digital clock on his nightstand - 2:52AM. He turns his head to look at you and waves you into the bedroom. "Mm, what's wrong dollface?" He sits up, rubbing his hands over his face. You make your way over and sit down, a pout on your lips. "I can't sleep. Sam and Scotty are up playing games." You go quiet. James listens, and the resounding sound of his sons’ joint bitching at the TV reaches his ears. He rolls his eyes and licks his dry lips. "C'mon, you can lie with me." He pats the mattress. You climb into his warm bed, and once the two of you are settled in, the only sounds that grace you are your breathing, the muffled voices of the boys in the living room, and the rhythmic clicking of his rickety ceiling fan above the bed.

"Usually you're out like a light." James comments. "Well, 'least you used to be able to sleep through anything. Guess that changes when you ain't a kiddo no more." He says, a warm hand rubbing your arm to soothe you to sleep as he did when you were little on nights you would sleep over, when you would come crying to him about a nightmare. Even now, all these years later, it was incredibly endearing to him. The way you suckle around nothing and end up sleeping on your stomach. That wouldn't do if you were pregnant, though.

Throughout the night, James found himself unable to sleep. He had a raging boner, his cock aching, boxers nearly sopping with pre from all the leaking his tip had been doing. You had your cheek pressed against his shoulder, your arm draped over his doughy middle. He stares down at you in the dark, the moonlight streaming through the dusty blinds helping him see your parted lips as they catch the pallid glimmer.

James brings his hand up and rubs his thumb over your bottom lip and the corner of your mouth, collecting the drool that accumulated during your peaceful slumber. He brings his thumb to his mouth and sucks the drool off it, his eyes fluttering closed and nearly rolling back in perverted satisfaction. Removing his thumb with a gentle 'pop,' James rests his hand on your side, beginning to rub up and down, up to the side of your chest then down to your hip. "Christ," he whispers, digging his fingers into your flesh with a gentle squeeze. He finds his way into the side of your camisole, calloused hand rubbing over your breast and soft nipple, thumb caressing the bud.

He was at a really horrid angle, his joints beginning to ache already, but he deemed it worth the pain to be able to grope you in your sleep. James' other hand goes down to his crotch, slipping into his boxers and grabbing at his velvety shaft. After hearing noise he stopped for a second, then went on, rubbing his thumb over his damp tip, assuming the boys were packing it in for the night.

"Dad?" Sam's voice calls, and right as James snatches his hand out of his boxers, the bedroom light flickers on. He stares at his sons, his hand still around your soft, fatty breast. Sam's lips part as if to comment, and Scott just stares at the print of James' hand through your thin navy blue camisole. Oh, he was fucked.

“Um, are we interrupting something?” Scott finally comments, hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants. “We came to see whose bed she wanted to take, or if she wanted to stay in the living room. For fucks sake…” He sneers, and his brother watches, fiddling with his labret as he watches his dad slowly retract his hand from your top.

Sam's big blue eyes travel down to your now exposed stomach, blinking silently. "Hey hey, calm down," James coos, pushing himself up into a sitting position, unintentionally making you stir awake. His cock strains against his soft boxers, tip threatening to peek out from underneath the fabric scrunched around his thigh. "She can stay in whichever one'aya's bed she wants. No need to fuss." He says, and you lift your head to look at the twins, returning Sam's slow, cat-like blink. "Huh?"

With a disgusted scoff, Scott turns on his heel, his hand resting on the wood of the doorway as he readies himself to leave. "I can't believe this." He mutters, walking out and down the hallway. Sam took a moment before making a move to leave, though, but he soon followed his brother, disappearing down the hallway.

Left in a tense silence, neither you nor James commented. Just sat, oddly content, until he spoke. "I know you might think this is gross," he begins. "But... do you mind helpin' me out, babygirl?" He asks, and the two of you make eye contact, his gaze pleading while yours was surprised. "James," you murmur, your hand finding his hairy thigh. "I can try."

You make your way between his thighs, your hands resting on either side of his penis. “Can you show me what to do? I’ve never seen a guy’s thing in real life before.” You admit, examining his cock curiously. When you wrap your hand around it, a bit harshly, James hisses. “Gentle, dollface, gentle.”

“Here, slow. Slowly. Up and down. Yeah, just like that.” He watches, a smile coming across his face. “You got the hang of it already.” So, you began to stroke him, getting a feel for it, taking in the warmth, the scent, the texture, the way his shaft twitched in your grasp. You watch as his hands fist the sheets beneath him, his nostrils flaring as he nears what would be his first orgasm of the night. With a shudder, James comes undone, warm semen spurting onto your hand. “Oh.”

“You’re a natural,” James pants, his hand coming up to brush some wispy hairs away from your face. “Good job sweets. My boys are missin’ out.” He grins lazily, then falls back onto his pillow with a sigh.

You get up and adjust your top. “I should get to bed.” You make your way over to the bedroom door, and as soon as you open it, Scott and Sam stumble in sideways. Those little creeps, they had their ears up against the door, listening in. You yelp in surprise, and step back from the door. “What the hell is wrong with you two?!”

Scott’s eyes go from your face, to your cleavage, then over to his dad’s exposed cock, then back up at your face. “No fucking way his jizz is on your hand right now.” Sam chimes in, glaring at your hand with contempt. Overcome with embarrassment, you look down at your sock-clad feet, eyes tracing the checkerboard patterned fabric. “Are you listening to me?”

You and Scott were so preoccupied that neither of you noticed James come up behind you, hand coming to rest on your shoulder, his dick still out of the confines of his boxers. “It ain’t somethin’ to be ‘shamed of, you know.” He reassures, caressing your shoulder as he looks between his twin sons. “I never got to give y’all the talk, did I? Maybe now’s a good time, yeah?”

Scott was a bit more enthusiastic than you anticipated. Sam, on the other hand, seemed more hesitant. Though judging by the tent in his shorts, he was far from unaffected. With a deep breath, you settle down onto the bed, the boys on either side of you. James stands in front of you three, his cock noticeably hardening. “What the fuck,” Scott whispers to himself, meanwhile Sam was shifting around, trying to relieve the friction in his bottoms.

James begins pacing, starting his impromptu sex ed lesson. “It’s not a weird thing to talk about. Sex is how we all got here. ‘S a natural thing.” He reaches down and tucks himself back in, thankfully. “It’s not just a way to make life, but to pleasure yourself, too. Everyone likes it.” Their father turns and looks between his sons, then his eyes settle on Sam. “Especially you,” he points. “You think I don’t hear you?” He then looks at Scott. “You? Don’t even get me started on the shit I hear you watching.” The blond raises an eyebrow, parting his lips to bitch back when James goes on. “Both’a’ya think she and I are disgusting for doing shit like this when really, we not. You just ain’t mature enough to get it through your heads that you two not the only ones that think with their dick.”

Sam looked especially uncomfortable now, doing his damndest to not make eye contact with any of the others in the room. “Then give us a hands-on lesson if you give so much of a shit.” Scott quips, making everyone look at him. Realizing his mistake, he widens his eyes. “Wait! I’m fucking with you, I’m fucking with you, I’m fucking with you!” He rambles, making you snicker, until Sam finally chimed in. “Can we?” He asks. The other three of you turn to look at Sam, his cheeks reddening a deeper shade.

“Fine then,” James says, making his way to the bed. “Lay down sweetpea.” He urges you, gently pushing your shoulder, a silent instruction for  you to lay back. “Usin’ you for some edjumacation, just relax dollface.” He smiles, and you make a noise of confusion as he runs his hand over your stomach. “Watch boys,” he instructs, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your shorts. He tugs them down, your thighs jiggling as your hips plop back down onto the bed. 

You can’t help but feel embarrassed, you were being put on display for a less than ideal anatomy lesson, and the two boys you’d called your best friends since you could remember were staring at you like they could just devour you. The room fills with the nervous laughter of the two others as your body unfolds before them, eager to learn the intricacies that make you so unique. Your stomach was revealed first, followed by your thighs. As Scott giggles, you flush, feeling a sudden heat fill your face.

With your underwear the only thing keeping your intimate parts hidden, James gives a shit-eating grin to his audience, who tap their feet and shuffle in anticipation. James then hooks his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and gives a swift tug down, revealing your fat, squishy mound and puffy pussy lips, soft and inviting. The sight of your hidden treasure causes the boys’ eyes to widen, taking in every detail of your body.

Your cheeks flame with mortification, an uncomfortable mix of embarrassment and arousal. The twins sat gazing at your exposed body, their eyes raking it in all its glory. You shudder, goosebumps forming on your skin as you sense their unabashed curiosity and lust. Pleased with his handiwork, James steps back, hands resting on his hips. “Go on, you two always were hands-on learners anyways.”

Scott, on your left, reaches out and touches your breast, his palm cupping the mound, eliciting a soft moan from your lips. You were overwhelmed with humiliation and pleasure, which was only amplified when you felt someone between your thighs. When you lifted your head to look down, you saw Sam on his knees before you, lips inches away from your pussy. “There you go, touch on ‘er.” James encourages the boys before taking a seat on the bed to your right, his large hand coming to rest on your stomach. “You’re such a trooper babygirl.”

You felt heat coursing through your veins, and you were unsure whether to be disgusted by the incestuous display or to just continue going with it. The feeling of being stripped of your dignity and autonomous power left you in a state of confusion, but your stomach coiled with a twisted thrill that came with the degradation. “Eat ‘er out, Sammy.” Scott tells his brother, sitting up straight. He swings one leg over your body and straddles your chest, then pulls his sweatpants down enough to remove his cock comfortably. His musky shaft bounces free before hitting you in the face. “Open your mouth- open it,”

You open your mouth willingly, the tip of Scott’s cock gliding past your lips and into the warm sanctuary of your mouth. Your tongue traces the underside of his shaft, sending tremors through his body. James watches in satisfaction as his sons take turns pleasuring you. Scott’s rough, unskilled hands gripping your head to guide his cock into your mouth contrast with Sam’s gentle, teasing tongue that flicks at your clit. As you begin to get into it, the twins sense it, their eagerness increasing tenfold. The blond bottoms out, balls against your chin as he groans, barely able to hold himself up, his thighs tensing. “Fucking- oh my- oh fuck,” he hisses, fully intent on keeping the two of you that way until James had to guide him back out. “Off.”

When Scott and Sam move out of the way, James settles between your legs and with a firm grip, finds your hips and snatches you to the very edge of the bed, his lips meeting yours for a slow, deep kiss. He groans softly against your lips, cock resting on your mound, the taste of peach beer like honey on his tongue.

James breaks the kiss and looks up at his sons. “Fuckin’ hell, Sam, play with ‘er tits.” The teen nods, hands finding your breasts, kneading the flesh gently. He drinks in the sight of the mounds jiggling beneath his touch, the curves and contours calling to him like a siren. “Scott, get under her.”

Scott doesn't waste a moment, his bottoms getting kicked across the room and hitting the floor, joining all the clutter and shit in his dad's room. He maneuvers underneath you, arms wrapping around your middle. “You good doll?” James asks, and you nod, hands on top of Sam's, guiding him to play with your nipples in a way that'll bring you the most pleasure. “Yeah, ‘m good,”

“Good.”

With the help of James’ hand, Scott's cock pushes into you, pulling an embarrassingly loud moan from your lips. “Oh, fuck!” You arch your back and Scott pulls you back down. “Stay,” he whispers hotly against your ear. “Stay right there.” In the heat of the moment, you didn't even notice that James was beginning to push into you as well until your poor cunt was being stretched to the brim. “James! James- ‘s so- ohhh, can't fit it,” you slur, making the man chuckle. “Yeah you can. Cunts are made for this, it's just a lil’ difficult ‘cause you're so young, babygirl.” After a bit of struggle, James penetrates you, your warm walls enveloping him. A guttural moan escapes him as he starts to grind against you, the friction from his son's cock against his paired with your wet heat almost too much for him to handle. “Atta girl, grippin’ me tight.” He smirks, drinking in the moans and cries that came from your lips.

Sam leans down and captures your lips in a soft kiss, much different from the other two on a mission to ravage your poor body. One of his hands tangles in your hair while the other is shoved down his pants, palming his shaft over his boxers. He was waiting, itching to have a go at you.

Your eyes flutter open, hazy gaze meeting James', whose eyes were sparkling with a devious triumph. “You gonna let us cum inside ya sweetiepie?” He asks, moving his hips in a rhythm that compliments Scott's. Since you were stretched so far and the friction was so great, the two of them had to find something that worked.

“Fuck, ‘m close,” Scott moans, his fingers digging into the flesh of your sides, tugging at you. The desperation in his voice is almost laughable. Sam breaks the kiss with a snicker. “Think it’s been like two minutes, dude. Pull out, let me.” Scott nods and does so, his cock glistening with your juices as he crawls out from underneath you.

With everyone out of the way, the three of them looming over you like a hungry pack of wolves, you can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. The others join in, the sound of their laughter mixing with the shuffling around. “I can’t even sit right,” you giggle, running your hands through your damp hair.

“I know. It’ll be fine babycakes. Get up.” James grins, turning you over so you were now on your tummy. “Gonna run a train through ya baby. Ready?” He lifts your hips, hands coming to rest on your ass. “Gonna take all of us, yeah?” His sweet talking distracted you from the way the teens were maneuvering your body, putting you in a position they wanted you.

James spits down onto his cock, lubing it up before he pushes the tip of it against your tight cunt. He grunts, feeling the resistance, but he’s determined. With a swift thrust, he breaches you, his cock sinking deeper with each rock of his hips, making your pussy stretch open. The boys, not to be outdone, get to work on their part. Sam guides his cock into your inviting mouth, your tongue swirling around his cockhead while your saliva bathes him. Scott groans, smacking your cheek with his own member, smearing precum onto your skin. “Fuck yeah,” he grins. “Take it like that baby, take Sam’s dick in your mouth.”

“Ghhk- hhg, kkh-” you gag on Sam’s cock, eyes shut as you struggle to breathe. Your body is a mess of pleasure, tits bouncing with every thrust, your pussy gripping James’ cock and your mouth moving up and down Sam’s. Your moans are muffled, but it only makes it all the more arousing. Sam pulls out and his dick is replaced with his brother’s, Scott’s tip hitting the back of your throat. The springs in the old, cheap mattress squeak and creak underneath the combined weight of the four of you.

Scott’s fingers tangle in your hair and grip your skull, being fed off the sounds of you choking and struggling. “Fucking take it, don’t fucking stop,” he growls, teeth gritting. “I wan’ cum on ‘er face,” Sam chimes in, getting off the bed, hand beginning to fist his cock as he waits for the other two. Following suit, James pulls out and so does Scott, the pair pulling you down onto the floor.

You cough, attempting to catch your breath before they get their hands on you again. You steady yourself with your hands on the dingy carpet, getting ready for the facial. “Fuck babygirl, close your eyes and stick that tongue out.” James commands, watching as you oblige. “Oh shit, keep it right there,” Scott pants, and you let out a surprised squeal as your face is covered in sticky sperm. You give an open-mouthed giggle and slowly open your eyes, keeping your tongue out.

It frosted your nose and cheeks and tongue, and your lashes were matted as you looked up at the three of them, meeting their satisfied expressions. Hopefully there would be a second class for James’ anatomy course.

ılıl﹕�� . @addictedtohobi , @102hannah , @emmaloo21 , @vixxensvoid , @ilovekmchenzie ﹒📧

ılıl﹕𖥻 . @laylaplease , @brooklynb8by , @geekforhorror , @gallerygourmet , @anakinsbbgirl ﹒📧

ılıl﹕𖥻 . @literally-izzy , @anakinstwinklebunny , @jadegmfu , @bimbo-baggins17 , @thesassypadawan ﹒📧

ılıl﹕𖥻 . @t03soup , @trippyhippywitch , @valloos , @demieyesore , @piastricentric ﹒📧

ılıl﹕𖥻 . @s1aywalker , @s1ck-skv1l , @catnipaddictt , @gabsskkk , @slutforfinnickodair﹒📧

ılıl﹕𖥻 . @realscott , @jediavengers , @enchant5d , @zapernz , @starlmbed﹒📧

ılıl﹕𖥻 . @offthethirlwall , @tfmerc , @dazednstars141 , @anisluvrgirl , @stepdadjameskelly﹒📧

ılıl﹕𖥻 . @cocobear18 , @poutypisces , @mugwump327 , @espinathena-17 , @fallout-girl219﹒📧

ılıl﹕𖥻 . @necromancerrrs , @decaffeinatedunicorn , @speaknow-sw , @lunarnightt﹒📧

ılıl﹕𖥻 .  @jyinnc , @haydenslittlegirl ﹒📧

[yuri-is-online]

Couple's (questionable) Halloween Costumes ft. Tokyo Debunker

I just got back from an event and had some thoughts idk. This is not in any particular order, just whoever came to mind first.

Towa- Bee and Beekeeper. His chibi is already a bee, he'd probably find it cute to see you dressed up like one too. Haru is the one who suggests his jumpsuit already looks a bit like a beekeeper suit, all he'd need to do is get a hat. Towa loves romance, so he'd probably be one of the only ghouls actually interested in dressing up with you 10/10.

Sho- Mario and Princess Peach, except he's the princess because he made the mistake of telling you that Leo always makes him be the girl. You really want to play this game, senpai? Fine. He'll hate every second of it but it is just the littlest bit worth it to see you squirm at how good he looks in a dress. Somewhat. He'd rather make you squirm someway else ???/10

Luca- Jedidiah and Octavius (from night at the museum). He sort of ruins it because he doesn't understand the reference and spends the night talking at length about Roman history. Which is nice if you are into that but extremely boring if not 6/10.

Kaito- Ketchup and Mustard. He also sort of ruins it; doing something this classically coupley with you makes him delirious with happiness and he has a stroke before you can make your way to the party. Salvages the night by baking Halloween themed cupcakes, you have a nice little date decorating them and no one has to see you two embarrass yourselves in public 7/10.

Haru- Cow and the Moon. He... does not have the best fashion sense if his cards are anything to go by, and hey this cow costume he got for (insert total rip off price here) will totally help him promote the back to nature tour! You dressing up as the moon was supposed to be a cute gimmick thing to play off the old nursery rhyme, he wasn't expecting you to put together such an ethereal outfit. Completely forgets about promoting the tour in favor of being cute with you all night, he's totally willing to do this again 9/10 (don't let him choose the costumes next time).

Rui- Moth and Lamp. He wants to do Gomez and Morticia, but the torture of not being able to touch you is already too much to bear as is, he isn't about to make it worse for himself. This way he can still be free to tend bar and make a bunch of cheesy "jokes" about you being the light of his life. Moths sort of fit the Obscuary theme anyway so it's a perfect costume, 10/10.

Haku- Howl and Sofie. He wants a costume that will give him an excuse to flirt with you and will make it very very clear just who you are leaving this party with. Haku probably thinks he'd look really good in Howl's outfit and you know what? He's right. Just remember to take him seriously when he offers his help removing your clothes this time, inspector 10/10.

Taiga- Ghostface. For exactly the reasons you think kitten don't even bother picking out a costume [redacted]/10.

[grisou-01]

Lin Kuei x Reader Intro Dialogues

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

Hello this is my first post and English is not my first language so sorry in advance if you see any mistakes :(

I really love Mortal Kombat 1 so i made this little dialogues

(Also Kuai Liang is not married with Harumi here for obvious reason, not hate to her she's a girlboss)

This happen after Khaos Reigns where Bi-Han is no longer Noob Saibot !

Also sorry for Sektor intros but i really really disliked her in the dlc, i feel like she's only here to be Bi-Han's love interest

Enjoy :]

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

SEKTOR :

You : There she is Bi-Han number one fangirl !

Sektor : I will make you choke on your words

Sektor : You will learn to respect me !

You : Ah ! i will respect you when Bi-han's cock will be out of your mouth.

Sektor : If you interfiere with the Lin kuei business again i will- !

You : Whatever you say ketchup !

You : How could you be so cruel to your own mother !?

Sektor : If she really wanted empathy she would have been the one to show up here !

Sektor : How can you follow Liu Kang and Kuai Liang after what they done to Bi-Han ?!

You : You're so down bad for Bi-Han that you became blind girl.

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

KUAI LIANG :

Kuai Liang : If Bi-Han decide to attack you gain i will- !

You : *flirting* Kuai Liang the man you are

You : I had no idea you could be so pissed

Kuai Liang : My emotions burns like fire

You : If you continue to look at me like that i may melt you know~

Kuai Liang : You will have reason to melt after this fight

You : Cyrax and You ? *laugh* Ah ah no way !

Kuai Liang : It was a long time ago Dear

Kuai Liang : What's wrong, do i got something on my face ?

You : Not a single flaw even your scar suits you

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

BI-HAN :

You : I will make you be the Sub in Sub-Zero

Bi-Han : As *if* you could handle me.

Bi-Han : That you sided with my incompetent brothers is- !

You : Aww look who'se jealous !

You : It's Ice to see you again !

Bi-Han : Is everything a Joke to you ?

Bi-Han : The power you could have with your skill if you were not bound by Liu Kang !

You : I do not seek *power* Bi-Han !

Bi-Han : as always you let your emotions take control !

You : You're the fool to think emotions are a weakness

You : You pretty boy need longgg sessions of therapy.

Bi-Han : And What make you think that ?!

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

CYRAX :

Cyrax : The fact that i believed in Bi-Han's words is- !

You : Hey ! It's not your fault Bi-Han's the one to blame !

You : So what are you ? Mustard or Mayonnaise ?

Cyrax : Again with this ?

You : Do not listen to Sektor, you are an incredible kombatant and a true warrior !

Cyrax : Thank you , I wish my family could think the same as you do

Cyrax : For the last time i am not "Spiderman" whoever he is.

You : But you shoot web cage and you stick to walls !

You : I wonder what you can do with this armor~

Cyrax : The better question is : What can't i do ?

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

TOMAS :

You : *imitating him* Where there is smoke there is Fire

Tomas : Stop ! It is not funny !

Tomas : Are you free ? After this fight i mean?

You : Is that an invitation to a date ?~

You : How you doin' Smokey Bear ?

Tomas : *sight* Why did Johnny made this surname ?

Tomas : Why can't Bi-Han accept me ?!

You : He's an asshole ! he never deserved your respect !

You : I can take you and your brothers !

Tomas : In a fight right ?

You : You know your quite cute when you're blushing sweetheart~

Tomas : Y-you will be the death of me...

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

Tell me which character of mk1 should i do next ! :D

[homestylehughes]

18.

pairing(s): jack hughes x fem!reader

summary: jack proposing to his girlfriend, the girl he knew he would marry since he was 18.

warning(s): absolutely none. pure fluff, and cuteness :)

word count: 1.4k

authors note: hi loves!! my inner directioner came out when writing this fic! this fic is loosely based off of 18 by one direction (I listened to FOUR, the album, the whole time while writing this. 11/10 would recommend). this was so much fun to write, it kinda gives me romcom, or romantic movies vibes? I love writing jack all soft and cute. I hope you guys enjoy, like and reblog if you do! I hope you are all happy and healthy. much love as always <3

“I have loved you since we were 18, long before we thought the same things.”

Ever since Jack laid eyes on yn at 18 he knew she'd be the person he'd spend the rest of his life with. Jack can remember the day he met her, like it was yesterday. He had just got drafted by the New Jersey Devils as the number one pick, which threw him into a new life of superstardom. 

In the midst of being the 1st overall draft pick, the Yankees invited him to a game, having one of the best seats in the stadium, he couldn't help but smile over the fact that this was now his life. As the fifth inning came to an end, Jack decided to make his way to the bathroom. As he walks through the busy crowd, weaving in and out of groups of people. Finally making it to the bathroom, doing his business before quickly heading out. 

As he walks out of the bathroom, his phone dings from a text, pulling his phone out of his pocket to see that it's from his mom. Just as he begins to type out a response, he feels himself bump into someone. bringing his head up to see the prettiest girl he's ever seen in all 18 years of his existence, with a hot dog smashed into her chest. He's so close to her that he can see the red and yellow stains from the ketchup and mustard littered across her white as snow Yankees jersey. 

“Oh my gosh” the girl says, her head hanging low as she looks at the hot dog stained jersey.

“Shit. I'm so sorry. I wasn't paying attention to where I was going.” jack embarrassingly  rambles out 

“It's..okay. It's nothing, it's just a jersey and hot dog. No biggie” she says, now looking at jack. 

“No it's a big deal, it's my fault. Here let me help you clean up.” Jack offers, as waves of guilt run through his veins.

“Are you sure? You don't have to, don't want to waste any more of your time.” the girl says

“If anyones wasting your time it's me, come over here” Jack says, taking the hot dog from her, throwing it in the trash, before turning around to look at her jersey. 

“It's pretty bad isn't it?” she asks him

“It is.. How about this, how about I buy you a new one?” 

“I can't accept that, it was an accident. Plus i dont your name.” the girl says, holding her ground as she looks directly in his eyes. 

Jack can't help but get lost in her eyes as they look at each other. 

“Yes you will, and my names jack.” flashing her smile before grabbing her hand

“Now come with me, we're going to go get you a new jersey and a hot dog, and anything else your heart desires, got it?” Jack says, briefly looking at the girl, who sends him a nod in approval. Turning back around, as he continues walking them through the crowd.

“Yn!” she says loudly behind him 

“What?” Jack asks, turning back around, confused by what she said to him.

“Yn, my name is Yn. Only fair if you know mine now” yn says with a small smile

“Well yn, what size jersey are you?” Jack asks, looking at yn, who has a slight smile on her face as she looks over all of the different jerseys.

“Umm..medium? Can I get the white one?” she asks 

“Of course” Jack sends her a smile as he talks to the worker, quickly getting the jersey for the girl. 

Sending the guy behind the counter a thank you, picking up the bad before handing it to yn.

“Jack..thank you so much” 

“You're very welcome, now on to a hotdog” he says with a smile

“Okat only on one condition.” she says

“And that is?”

“You let me buy them. I can't let you buy me anything else today.” yn says, looking at him sternly.

“Yes ma’am” 

“And so help me god if you get mayo on your hot dog, i will break down in tears.” 

“Mayo? On a hot dog?” he questions 

“Yes. it's sick and people actually do it.” she laughs 

“ well no, mayo on my hotdog for me” he smiles to her

“Good. That's what I like to hear,” she says, lifting her head up, sending him a smile before getting in line. 

Jack looks at her for a second, and in that moment he knew, hed just found the person he'd spend the rest of his life with. 

– 

“Quinn. I'm freaking out." Jack says as he paces on the dock.

“Jack calm down, she's going to say yes. Take a deep breath "Quinn says as soothing as he can, in an attempt to calm his brother's nerves.

“You don't know that” jack snaps at him 

“Yes I do, you guys have been inseparable for the last 5 years. You two are the same person, and can share the same brain cell. She will say yes.'' Quinn says. walking over to Jack, bringing him into a hug, hoping to help calm down.

Jack pulls back after a few moments, murmuring a soft thank you, before taking a deep breath, straightening his back before turning around to look out at the lake. The calm water seems to calm his nerves for a few moments. 

“She's on her way” quinn says, laying a hand on jacks shoulder giving it a squeeze before turning around heading off the dock, leaving jack alone with his thoughts. 

A few moments later he can hear the sound of the footsteps on the dock behind him, turning slightly to see her walking towards him in the prettiest white dress, the bottom of it flowing in the wind as she walks. 

“Hi, pretty girl” jack says while grabbing her hand pulling her to stand in front of him

“Hi” she says breathlessly like she'd been holding her breath the whole way here.

“I don't really know where to start but I'll start by doing this,” Jack says before slowly dropping down to one knee. Yns hands quickly move to cover her mouth, as she looks down at Jack with tears welling her eyes.

“Yn. you've been my rock, my best friend, my biggest supporter, and most importantly the love of my life for the last 5 years.” 

Yn lets out a choked sob that causes Jack to pause for a moment, to regain his breaths he can feel his eyes beginning to water, as he continues.

“I knew you would be the person I'd spend the rest of my life with the moment I crashed into you, spreading mustard and ketchup all over you. Even at that moment I thought you were the prettiest girl I'd ever seen. Thank you for always making me feel seen and loved, I wouldn't have been able to do any of this without you. I love you, and I promise I'll love you forever, until my heart gives out. So would you do the greatest honor of being my wife?” 

“Yes. yes. A million times yes, jack.” she says as she struggles to hold back her tears as she launches herself onto jack. The both of them wrapped in each other's embrace, tears of joy falling from both of their eyes. 

Jack pulls back enough to slide the perfectly cut, sized ring onto her hand. the ring going on perfectly, as if it was the last piece of the puzzle, laying perfectly on her hand. 

“Jack it's beautiful” yn beams at him, tears still falling, hitting her cheeks like raindrops on a window. 

“Not as beautiful as you” Jack says, bringing his fingers under her cheeks wiping them away. 

“I love you” she says 

“I've loved you since we were 18, '' Jack says softly before pulling her into a kiss. 

“I wanna love like you made me feel, When we were eighteen”

[sansaorgana]

I’ve never understood why we shoot off fireworks in the USA for the 4th, I just feel like it could trigger some of our veterans and it makes me feel awful! Could you write something like this with Buck?

hello! 💖 in my country we only shoot them on new year's eve but since I own two cats, I hate them 😡 one of my cats is so terrified each time that he literally has spasms 😥 the older he gets, the more worried I am each new year's eve tbh 😐 anyway, thank you for your request! 🎆 I was actually thinking of something like this with Buck!

I had to close my requests for now because I got so many 🙏🏻

It was the first Independence Day after the war and you were excited that you would celebrate it with your husband for the first time in two years. Especially now, after the victory, it felt more special than ever.

You decided to throw a barbecue for your befriended neighbours and you had been preparing the house and the garden for the whole week – putting up decorations with Buck’s help and cleaning everything. In the last two days you had also been busy with cooking meals and preparing salads while Buck had been supplying your fridge with everything needed for the barbecue – all sorts of meat, vegetables and sodas.

The only thing you hadn’t bought were the fireworks. You wanted to save some money, especially after hearing that different neighbours down the street were preparing a real show anyway. Surprisingly, Buck had agreed to that pretty quickly although you had expected him to try to convince you to get your own fireworks. Not because he had ever been a big fan of them but he never liked it when you were using the “saving money” argument. Whenever you would use it in different situations – like deciding whether to buy a dress or not – he would say “if it makes you happy, we can afford that”. And he knew very well that this barbecue party was making you happy.

However, you didn’t ask about it because it didn’t seem to be significant enough and you completely forgot about it anyway, too busy with all the preparations.

The barbecue started in the afternoon and the weather was beautiful on that day – clear, blue skies above you, giving you a perfect view of the fireworks here and there in the distance. You were handing the bottles of beer and coke to the guests while Buck was in charge of the barbecue when one of the neighbours asked a question that made you freeze.

“Damn, it’s like back there again, is it not?” He chuckled at Buck.

His name was Frank and he had been to Europe as well but not as a pilot. He was obviously referring to the fireworks in the background as he tried to turn it into a joke but his wife Helen hissed at him.

You suddenly realised that the sound of fireworks was not the same to everyone and you looked at your husband, worried. He might have seemed to be pretty alright after the horrors he had endured but you knew him better than everyone else and you knew. You knew about his nightmares and panic attacks. They were rare but they still were happening, sometimes triggered by the things you had never thought of before as threatening. Like with the fireworks.

“I don’t pay attention to them,” Buck gave Frank a kind smile. “My brain just shuts the sound off at this point,” he explained and he seemed to be genuine in his answer, which made you sigh in relief.

You went back to handing out the sodas and glanced at the watch on your hand. It was half an hour until the fireworks show promised by the neighbours living down the street.

When everyone had a bottle of their chosen beverage already, you joined your husband’s side to help him with the meat and vegetables. Rubbing his arm softly and laughing at the jokes being told by the others, you felt happy and satisfied with your life. Finally, after such a long time, it was back to normal, you thought. Well, nearly.

Everyone was sitting by the table in your garden and talking when you realised you had forgotten to bring mustard and ketchup.

“I’ll get it,” Buck smiled at you and stood up.

“Grab me a can of coke from the fridge, too, darling,” you told him and he nodded before disappearing inside the house.

A short moment later, the fireworks show started. Your neighbours living down the street had to spend a real fortune on it because the fireworks were many and very, very loud. You gasped and watched in awe as others stood up and cheered.

You, Helen and Frank were the only ones left sitting by the table. From the corner of your eye, you spotted that Frank’s face changed. He was no longer smiling and his skin lost some of its colour. Helen was squeezing his shaky hands and whispering something to him.

A very loud firework made you flinch while others screamed out of joy and Frank jumped on his seat. You stood up rapidly, realising that Buck hadn’t come back from the house yet.

“Helen, listen,” you leaned in to talk to her despite the noise. “You can go inside with Frank, it’s okay,” you assured her.

“Thank you,” she mouthed out with gratitude in her eyes before urging him to stand up and follow her inside.

You, however, weren’t waiting for them because you were rushing to the house yourself. You froze at the sight of your husband sitting by the kitchen table and hiding his face in his shaky hands. In fact, his whole body trembled and there was a broken bottle of mustard in the middle of the floor. He had to drop it when the fireworks show started.

Your heart broke at the sight. Your Buck was the strongest and the bravest man you knew. You would always go to him when you needed comfort or help because he was so capable of making everything – everything – better. He was good at fixing things in the physical sense but he was also always comforting you with his kindness and calm nature. He would never panic about anything and you had always admired him for that.

In moments like this, you felt helpless because you couldn’t take his pain away. And if you could, you would. He had already suffered so much that from now on, you’d rather suffer for him. But you were also angry – angry at the war for taking place and breaking him so much.

“Darling…” You started slowly and crouched down in front of him, carefully, trying not to startle him. He didn’t seem to acknowledge your presence, though. “Darling…” You repeated and put your hands on his trembling thighs.

He flinched and you shushed him while tears streamed down your cheeks. 

“Shh, shh, baby, it’s me, it’s okay, you’re home,” you tried to soothe him. “You’re with me now, you’re safe,” you assured but it was not working.

You took a deep breath in and moved up now, to stand above him. You put your hands on Buck’s ears, trying to shield him away from the noise coming from the outside. And then, gently, you pulled his face closer to you and pressed it to your tummy. You leaned in to kiss the top of his head and whisper sweet nothings that were supposed to calm him down and after a while it seemed to be working. You could feel his muscles relaxing and eventually he stopped hiding his face in his hands and wrapped his arms around your waist instead, clinging to you like a little boy.

When the fireworks show stopped and it was quiet again, you moved your hands away from Buck’s ears and began to rub his back soothingly instead.

“It’s alright now, baby, you’re home with me. I won’t let anything bad happen to you,” you promised in a whisper, sniffing back your own tears.

Buck looked up at you with teary eyes and you cupped his face to wipe his tears off of his cheeks with your thumbs. You let your fingers trace his scars and your lower lip trembled. Not that you minded those scars – not at all – but they were yet another reminder of what horrors he had been through. And he was just a man – as weak and scared as everyone else; only forced to be brave.

You understood now why he was scared of having a son with you one day. He was scared of another war coming sooner or later and he was scared of his own child going through what he had gone through.

You feared that, too. And you didn’t even fully know what had happened in Europe. Only the men who had been there knew. Women – especially those who had stayed back home – they would never understand.

“Are you back with me now, my love?” You asked, gently. Buck nodded after a while of hesitation.

“Sorry ‘bout the mustard,” he mumbled out and you chuckled as you shook your head.

“It doesn’t matter, darling,” you assured him.

But you were grateful that Buck’s panic attacks were like that. Perhaps it was wrong to be grateful for such things but you had heard enough stories of triggered men who would do much worse things while having panic attacks.

“I’m sorry…” He breathed out as fresh tears pricked his eyes.

“Don’t,” you interrupted him as you crouched down again and held his hands now to squeeze them tight. “Don’t, Gale, please, don’t ever apologise for that,” you pleaded and he looked down.

“I didn’t expect them to be so loud and so… Close. I… I suddenly wasn’t in our kitchen anymore but back in the air, up in the fort and the Germans were shooting at us and I was trying to focus on flying but deep down I was just… I was just praying to get back home to you and all I could see was your face when they tell you I’m dead and…” He started and you pursed your lips to stop your own tears from falling.

“I know, baby, I know. But it’s over now, yes? You’re back home with me, safe and sound,” you reminded him and leaned in to place a kiss upon one of his hands.

You heard footsteps behind you. It was Helen peeking inside shyly. You turned around to shake your head at her and she gave you an understanding look before walking out without a word.

“Let’s clean up now, yes?” You let go of Buck’s hands and fixed your hair before standing up clumsily.

You occupied yourself with cleaning the mess from the broken mustard bottle and Buck washed his face with cold water in the kitchen sink. You handed him some of the paper towels you were using so he could dry his face.

“You’ve missed the fireworks show because of me,” he pointed out.

“God damn those fireworks shows, Buck!” You exclaimed. “God damn them. I don’t want to see any ever again. I’m sorry that I didn't think that it would… That it would scare you like that,” you apologised.

“Well, it takes time to come to terms with the fact that your husband is a coward now,” Buck sighed and so did you, while throwing the used paper towels into the trash bin aggressively.

“My husband is not a coward and has never been. However, that self-pity attitude is new to me,” you told him and he turned his head around to look at you. “My husband is the bravest man I know,” you added. “He is my hero. And I don’t allow you to talk about him this way, you hear me? I have defended him from all the women in town telling me that men in the captive camps were no real heroes and I will defend him from you, too, when you’re so mean to him, Buck, I mean it.”

“Stop, or I’ll cry again,” he shook his head and sniffled.

There was a hint of a smile on his face and it made you grin as well before you approached him and wrapped your arms around him to hug him tight.

“I love my wife, too. The most in the whole wide world,” he assured you and hugged you back while pressing his lips to the top of your head but you could still understand his words. “I wasn’t brave, really, I wasn’t. I just did everything it took to come back to you.”

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

[mamayan]

★MANNERS☆

Shigaraki Tomura x Fem! Reader x Shuichi Iguchi (Spinner)

Tomura and Spinner decide Katsuki’s lil sis needs to learn some manners. Tomura is happy to help.

TW: DARK CONTENT • NONCON (full on) • NSFW • Alcohol consumption • Forced alcohol consumption (anally) • Abuse/Manipulation • Gaslighting • Piss • Forced Enema (using beer) • Oral (M) • PIV • Rough Sex • Degradation/Humiliation • Fem! Reader • Quirkless/College AU • Not proof read!

A/N: Don’t come for me, I had a dream and needed to get it out lol

“Man don’t fuckin’—! Shit! Go left! Go fuckin’ left dammit’! NO! Fuck!” The controller went sailing across the room, hitting drywall and knocking down a corner of a poorly taped up poster near the stairwell.

“Hey dickwad, watch the fuckin’ face,” Dry eyes, bloodshot from staring at the tv all night, looked up.

You looked pissed, hair messy and face and clothing crumpled like you’d just rolled out of bed.

“It three in the morning you shitheads, shut up!” Your screech was akin to a pterodactyl, eyes blazing with fury as you pointed a manicured finger at all of them. “I have class in the morning! Shut this shit off and go to bed.” Like the whirlwind you appeared as, you were gone, stomping loudly up the cheap wooden stairs leading up from the basement smelling of stale beer and weed.

“What a—,”

“Cunt.” Tomura finished, looking at his friend with a roll of his eyes.

“She always such a bitch?” Tomura asks, curiously looking up at your ass as you slam the door shut behind you.

Shuichi looked awkward, “She’s his lil sis, so yeah, kind of always a bitch.”

“No shit? She’s firecracker’s sister?” Tomura looked shocked by the information before scoffing. “Makes sense then,” he’s back to focusing on the game, and the two resume their shouting contest at the tv.

They don’t know they’d be getting redecorated with kitchen condiments when they emerged from downstairs.

“Who the fuck?!” Spinner was nearly in tears, hot sauce directly in his eyes.

Tomura was oddly silent though despite standing slumped with ketchup and mayo dripping down his cheek, glaring balefully beneath his bangs as you snorted and tossed the empty bottle of mustard onto the floor. “I know shit for brains at least pays rent here, but you don’t,” you’re once again pointing a finger at him. “Listen crusty, me and my bro pay most of the mortgage, and then the other half is paid by Touya’s rich daddy and his pocket change.” Shuichi’s glare flattens a bit in fear under your icy stare as you glance at him like a bug beneath your foot. “You come over here all the damn time just to scream at the tv and lose, so do us all a favor, and stop showing your lotion needing ass around anymore.”

You leave just like that, finally feeling free from the incessant noise and nonsense as you get ready for your first class of the day, knowing your lab in the evening would be followed by a good night’s rest, finally.

Or not—

You return in the evening to another house party, furiously wondering which idiot set it up this time. Was it Katsuki or Touya? Shuichi was too much a follower and introvert to set up his own. The entire neighborhood was awake it seemed and eager to get drunk and wild, college students spilling out the seams of your home as you groan and push your way inside. Hands grab at you from all angles, only to feel the prick of your sharp nails in retaliation.

You spotted the spiky blonde hair of your idiot brother, his scowl matching your own as you confront him.

“The fuck dude?”

“Don’t fuck dude me, th’fuck’r doin’ home early?” He’s clearly intoxicated despite his stone faced demeanor, speech slurred as he sways a little. A pretty girl is looking at you with irritation for having interrupted her capture of prey.

“Put the nails away Babezilla, he’s my fuckin’ brother,” you sneer, rolling your eyes as you level him with a new found glare from the depths of hell.

“Everyone better be out before midnight or I’m lighting this shit on fire and claiming the insurance on the house and your body.”

“D’you take out insurance on my fuckin’ life?”

“Fuck around and find out.” With that you leave, Katsuki’s stunned face slowly morphing into one of rage as he screams out after you, held back by the girl half his size holding on to him like a desperate dog owner to their hound who smells blood.

Unbeknownst to you, you’re being watched. Carefully. As you sashay around the dirty house party, despite your terrible attitude, telling people what time to leave.

“I think she needs to learn a lesson in manners.” Shuichi glances over at Tomura, watching the young male scratch as his neck till red begins to pull up and spill. The crimson against his almost grayish skin looks ghastly.

“Y-yeah man…” something about the violent look in those garnet eyes makes him nervous.

“Go tell her I’m trying to take a piss on her bed.”

“Dude what? Why would I do that?” Shuichi looks stunned, making a face of pure confusion and revulsion. “That’s fuckin’ gross.” He receives an eye roll, chuckling beneath his breath.

“Just do it Spinner, remember where her room is?” Tomura points out, cocking a brow as if the purple haired male would catch on. He doesn’t, but Shuichi doesn’t want to admit so, nodding with a look of hesitation. “What exactly are you going to do when she gets up there?”

“Remember? A lesson in manners of course.”

Tomura happily grabs a freely left out six pack of beer, the glass long bottles cool and still dripping perspiration as they heat up in the room filled with liquored up sweaty bodies. The paper handle carefully balancing the weight of each one as he strolls up stairs, finishing his own drink of mixed hard liquors that still haven’t hit his system fully yet. Your room is on the third floor, more of a loft than anything, where you’d had a wall and door built to block out noise and add privacy. You have the most sound proof room in the house, the most secluded room in the house, and the most secure room in the house. Your brother made sure of it, throwing up extra locks as you insisted on getting a house with him near campus. Tomura is happy he found this information out through Shuichi, using his gaming friend to siphon out everything there is to know about you.

Despite your mean attitude, you’re quite the good friend. Well liked and adored on campus, pretty girl with a cute smile when you chose to use it. His own lips crack as they pull up into a grin, easily finding your room and closing the door. A normal bedroom, nothing special, with cute added decorations here and there as well as your books and study supplies left on your desk and bedside table. Tomura leaves the beer on your desk, finishing his drink and throwing the plastic red cup to the floor as he grunts and unzips his pants, freeing his limp chub as he steps up onto your bed.

He wasn’t kidding. He pissed all over your cute stuffed animals, pillows and blankets, releasing his foul pent up urine where you sleep.

“Ah fuck,” he groans, head falling back as he relaxes and fully empties his bladder just as the door slams open and you enter.

“No fuckin’ way— YOU SICK FUCKIN’ ANIMAL! THAT’S DISGUSTING!” Your shriek falls on deaf ears, the party drowning out your screeching perfectly. He doesn’t even turn his body, only his head as he looks down at your seething face with a lopsided grin.

“Aw, decided to join the fun now, Princess?” His scratchy rough voice isn’t slurred in the least, and it doesn’t take a lot to guess he’s mostly sober. Tomura shakes his cock a few times, making sure every drop hit your now soaked bed, before pulling up his boxers alone.

“Lock the door Spin.” He orders casually, and the ever eager Shuichi obeys, eyes wide in shock because Tomura really did it. He’s almost impressed, feeling something in his chest swell to see you so upset. All the times you’d mocked him as a loser who couldn’t afford to pay rent… it was true but that was besides the point.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing shit for brains?!” Shuichi flinched when you reeled on him now, but he held his ground as Tomura hopped to the floor, dropping his pants entirely now and kicking them off. It was comical the look on your face, eyes going wide and a hint of fear tinting your features before you masked it with rage. “You want to die or something? My brother will—,”

“Your brother is getting his cock gobbled like a turkey on Thanksgiving by the bitch I paid to do it. He’s not doing shit else tonight.” Tomura’s smile is vile, white teeth offset by his pale sickly skin as he chuckles, removing his shirt next.

The marks on his body can only be from some sort of self harm, scratch marks everywhere, scabs covering a majority.

“I’ve always liked your nails.” He starts, slowly backing you into Shuichi who seems more nervous than you at this point. Your glare is still in place, defiant pretty eyes sparked with emotion he’s dying to extinguish. “You’re wearing makeup today too.” He notes gleefully, and the way his face lights up almost childishly sends chills down your spine. A blaring red alarm is sounding as you realize his intentions aren’t just to vandalize your room.

“Tomura stop this right now—hck!?” It catches everyone but him off guard when he slaps you across the face, sending you to the floor as you gaze dazedly at your carpet for a moment.

“Shut the fuck up,” he sneers, rolling his eyes as you cough and sputter for a second. It’s the only second he needs to grab a fistful of your hair and haul you up, dragging you to your desk and swiping everything off and onto the floor to smash your face to the table. “You always scream and yell. It’s annoying how you always run your mouth slut.”

“Stop—! I’ll really scream! HELP! SOMEO—mhm!” He doesn’t hesitate to lift your head and slam it as hard as he can onto the table, effectively and violently silencing you.

“Holy shit dude—,” Shuichi halts when Tomura levels him with a glare. His eyes drop to you, even more rocked and dazed as a few tears leak down your cheeks.

“Since you like screaming so much…” he’s scratching as his neck with his free hand, cracking his knuckles after and dropping his hand to the waist band of your leggings. Your ears still ring from the blow, allowing him to easily pull your pants and underwear down to expose your lower half. He only pulls it down halfway, exposing your cunt and bare ass.

“Hey man, maybe we should stop…” Shuichi takes another step forward, eyes nervously looking at your exposed skin and limp figure against your desk.

“Nah, this bitch is getting a lesson taught tonight.” Tomura nods for Shuichi to come closer, his friend awkwardly shuffling closer. “Hold her arms behind her back and her face down.” Tomura helps grab both of your wrists, twisting them behind your back and pressing them down. He ignores your whimper, letting Shuichi hold you down now so he could free both hands.

Shuichi simply watches as Tomura grabs a beer, biting the cap off and spitting it on the floor as he saunters closer. Taking a few swigs, he grins and crouches down behind you, laughing as you flinch away from his hand on your ass.

“P-please stop—hii!” He only answers with a sharp slap to your ass and a giggle, deforming the soft doughy flesh with his hand and nails sinking in. Spreading one cheek wide, Tomura brings the lip of the bottle to the tight rosebud of your back entrance.

“Holy shit—,”

“No! No please!”

He ignores you and Shuichi, pressing forward and breaching your ass with the bottle and delighting in the squeal you make, legs going taunt and straight as the desk and Shuichi’s grip prevents you from going anywhere as he sinks about three inches of the bottle neck inside your ass.

“Bottoms up, bitch.” Tomura laughs, tilting the bottle up and watching the liquid begin to bubble and pop, disappearing inside of you as you groan and writhe for freedom, panic and tears painting your face. Keeping the bottle in place as he forces the beer inside you, Tomura leans up and over to lick the smearing mascara running down your cheek. The salt and chalky taste making his cock swell up into a tent in his boxers.

“Fuck man, is this even okay? I-I don’t wanna go to jail or some shit,”

“You won’t. She won’t say a thing.”

“W-why?”

“Look at her cunt.”

It didn’t matter how much you cried or babbled out pleas, the slick literally dripping from your cunt to the floor in a slimy along your thighs was undeniable.

“Get your phone out and record.” They switch places so Shuichi can do as he’s told, Tomura holding you down much more roughly now.

Shuichi finds it hard to swallow as he digs past his own hard cock to grab his phone out, shakily opening up the camera and hitting film. He doesn’t need to be told to set up facing the scene, using a book shelf on the other end of the room as a stand. He takes his position again holding you, Tomura once more free to do as he pleased.

When the bottle is empty, Tomura pulls it free roughly from your stinging ass with an audible pop.

“Looks like you still got room, hm?”

“Oh god, please, Tomura stop,” your sniffling and little whines don’t soften his heart as he bites another cap off, leaning his own face against the desk to keep the contact as he pressed the new bottle inside your ass. The cool glass contrasted against your warming insides, the feeling of being full hard not to focus on as the alcohol slowly heated you. The liquid goes in faster as he tips it up high, forcing you on your tip toes to avoid tearing your poor hole as he gleefully watches the horror and humiliation on your features.

“Little butt chugging bitch likes having her ass played with huh?” Tomura teases, playfully pressing the now empty bottle in and out of your sore hole, enjoying the tiny wail you release.

“Yeah you like it.”

“I-I don’t—!” He doesn’t care to listen as he fucks you with the glass bottle head, sitting up to watch your hole take it as his cock twitches and soaked his boxers with pre-cum.

“S-shit man I’needa’,” Shuichi feels his mind go blank, pressing his denim clothed cock against your outer thigh and rutting his hips against it like a dog. Tomura snickers watching his friend blow his load in his pants, not seeing the hypocrisy when he does the same not a moment later watching you whimper and take another bottle.

He stops as three, yanking his boxers down and pressing his uncut cock-head right up against your tight hole and releasing before he can even enter.

“Shit,” he moans, pressing Shuichi out of the way to pin your body with his own weight as he rubs against your ass with his release coating your skin. “Holding all that liquid must hurt, huh?” He huffs against your neck, sucking on the skin and breaking the capillaries when he bites down hard enough to draw blood.

Your scream echoes around the room, the floor vibrating as the party downstairs rages on without a clue to your plight.

You groan at Tomura wiggles his full weight on you, your lower belly feeling like it may burst any moment, panic settling into your gut.

“I-I need to p-pee…” Tomura moans, rocking his hardening cock against you while you struggle beneath him.

“Pee then,” he grunts, focusing on rubbing against your sloppy pussy, “So fuckin’ wet. You been wantin’ this?”

“Hey man…” Shuichi had decided to join his friend in stripping to his boxers, no longer pretending to have a moral compass as he stroked his own cock to the sight before him.

“Yeah I gotcha,” Tomura easily stands and brings you up, still restrained with his hands as he drags to the bathroom attached to your room. Shuichi follows, stunned when Tomura just drops you to the floor and presses a foot on your lower abdomen.

“S’too much, please,” you writhe like a bug, Shuichi’s eyes watching as you try and get away only to be pinned harder with Tomura’s foot.

The liquid stored inside you has no where else to go but out.

“Fuckin’ nasty bitch, shit,” Tomura watches in fascination as the liquid spills out, only beer coming out as you sob and lay on the tile. Despite his words he works his cock to the sight. “Cheap enema.” He notes, grabbing your wrist and hauling you to the shower. “Turn it on Spin,” dragging your poor figure into the shower and stripping you down naked. The water is freezing at first, your flinches and pathetic pleas as Tomura dumps soap over your head and body ignored. He uses the detachable shower head to wash you like an animal, roughly soaping you up and spraying you off, careless about nearly drowning you as he washes your face a little.

He does a poor job, but you’re somewhat clean, makeup still smeared lightly on your face as your dragged out dripping wet back into your bedroom.

He doesn’t hesitate to throw you on your bed.

“Fuckin’ gross man…” Shuichi frowns, but he doesn’t hesitate to grab you despite the scent of urine turning him off slightly.

You fight now though, wildly flailing limbs struggling as you scream and wail for anyone to hear you. No one does, as Tomura shamelessly climbs into the bed with you, boxers gone and completely naked as he helps Shuichi press you to your hands and knees. Tomura positioned behind you and Shuichi by your face.

“Please… I-I’m sorry…” they pause, your voice so tiny they barely heard it.

“Speak up, whore, we can’t hear you.” Tomura yanks your face up by your hair, your neck twisting painfully back as you sob.

“I’m sorry!”

“For what?!” Tomura sneers, using your head like a joystick and rattling you around.

“F-for saying mean things, a-and throwing food o-on you…”

“That all?” He asks, cock pressed up against the entrance to your cunt threateningly.

“P-please Tomura… Shuichi…”

“Since you’re begging,” Tomura laughs, surging his hips forward and shoving his cock into your warm tight cunt. You release a silent scream this time, choking on air as his cock fills you this time, each thick inch drilling into you as he starts wildly bucking into you with little regard to your pleasure.

“Fuck her face Spin,” Tomura grunts, drawing blood on your ass as his nails bite in, fucking hard up into your pussy, soft mushroom tip unsheathing and kissing up against your cervix.

“R-right…” Shuichi feels guilty seeing your tear streaked face, wet hair clinging to your skin and watery eyes looking at him for mercy. It doesn’t stop him from cupping your jaw and lifting your head up to press his cock against your lips.

Tomura lands a sharp hit to your rear, moaning as you tighten at the bolt of pain it caused. “Better suck him good, or I’ll let him have your ass.” That seems to motivate you, soft lips parting open and accepting Shuichi’s much thicker cock into your mouth. Shuichi unexpectedly had the biggest cock you’d ever seen, the reddish tip and veiny shaft intimidating as you do your best to lick and suck despite the sweaty sour odor clinging to him.

“That’s not how sluts suck cock, is it?” Tomura growls, forcing your head forward on the hesitant Shuichi’s cock and gagging you while the purple haired man moans. “O-oh fuck!” He grips your face from the front while Tomura fucks you rough and hard from behind. “That’s it Princess! Nice and deep!” Tomura cackles, focusing back on railing you senseless while Shuichi finally snaps and face fucks you properly.

“So good—fuck, your mouth is so warm,” he’s nearly in tears himself as he feels his tip slip into your tight throat, eyes rolling back as he works his hips now, watching drool and tears mix around your mouth and drop down onto his balls as they smack your chin. “A-almost done, almost done,” he moans, loving how your oxygen deprived mind slackens your jaw more so he can slip even deeper, your tongue licking at a vein under his shaft every thrust. “So fuckin’ good wh-when you shut up, heh,” he’s delirious on pleasure, loving the submissive look in your eyes as they gaze up pleadingly at him. “Cute when this mouth is used for something productive.” Shuichi laughs breathlessly, balls drawing up tight as he finally spills down your throat. “Fuck! Swallow! Swallow it all—!” His face and body scrunch up, nearly doubling over as he presses your nose against his pelvis and comes down your throat.

You black out. Limp figure gurgling on hot spunk spilling down your face as you drop to the soaked bed while Tomura supports your lower half up to keep fucking you. Your eyes barely open as the room spins, cunt clamping down like a vice on Tomura’s cock when he uses one hand to half heartedly rub at your swollen clit.

“Shit, gonna bite my dick off,” he moans despite the almost uncomfortable tightness, working your pussy up further as you spasm and soak his lower half, eyes rolling back. “Ah fuck, that’s it bitch, make a mess!” Tomura nearly whines, hips becoming jerky as you milk him for all he’s worth, his cum finally spilling inside you now.

“Bet you ain’t on birth control huh? Gonna knock you up whore.” He grunts, trying to fuck his spend back into you with his softening cock, overstimulating himself as he moans and whimpers against your back.

When he pulls out, a string of sticky fluids connect his cock to your pussy even when he’s completely out of you. He watches with a grin as his white cum dribbles out of your used hole. “Look at that. You do have some potential after all. At least for a cock sleeve that is.” He snickers, leaving you in a heap on your bed as he and Shuichi start to dress, grabbing the phone and coming back to film the aftermath.

“Say a word and I’ll send this to everyone. Do you hear me?” He doubts you really do, the fucked out look on your face making you appear stupid as you numbly nod a little. “Now say ‘Thank you Tomura and Spinner, for using my slutty holes’.” Tears leak freely as you stutter, “Th-thank you T-Tomura a-and Spinner…for u-using my s-slutty holes…”

“Good girl. I knew we could teach you some manners.” He grins, eyes crinkling around the edges darkly as he stares at your used figure still trembling and dripping cum.

“Let’s go, I’m in the mood to game a lil,” Tomura comments, wiping his cock with your panties and stuffing them in his back pocket as he buttons and zips up his fly. Shuichi follows, nodding as he dresses and fixes his clothes, eyes not leaving you though.

“Don’t worry. We can use her again later. I still got a few more brews.” Tomura chuckles, lifting the half empty pack up.

You wake in a panic, blood pumping fast and heart pounding. Your room is as you left it, eyes scanning your clean and un-pissed in bed and sheets. Your body is clean besides a sheen of sweat coating you, hands trembling as you dip a finger into your panties to find yourself soaking wet.

Did you have a wet dream about those two losers?

As if…

You found sleep was hard to come by as you kept imagining.

Dividers/@cafekitsune

[reidmania]

LATE NIGHT BLABBER

miguel o’hara

summary: miguel wants to sleep, but you love to blabber

warnings: fluff, dramatic reader, short sweet fic really based off the sound on tiktok thats like ‘i had a dream where i was ketchup, and u were mustard, which is weird since ur normally mayo in my dreams’ yk

“goodnight” miguel says, leaning over to press a kiss to your shoulder, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull your back flush against him, “goodnight miggy”

its silent for a minute, you try to match miguels breathing in a way to try to fall asleep, but it fails, you just aren’t tired.

“miggy” you say softly after a minute, he hums in response. “would you still love me if i was a worm”

miguel sighs, seeing what type of night it was, “yes, baby.” he says softly, squeezing you gently.

you sigh, “what if i was a snail, without a shell”

“a slug?” miguel asks.

“no, a snail without a shell”

“thats a slug” he mutters, voice full of sleep. you pout, he can’t see though. “no!” you cry out, shuffling away from him.

“okaokay- yes i would still love you if you were a snail without a shell” he says, pulling you back against him. you smile. “sleep time?” he asks.

“okay!” you says, curling into him.

once again, its silent, until you hum, “miggy”

“yes baby” he sighs out, you frown. “why are pizzas made in cirlces, put in square boxes, but cut in triangles?” you ask.

“i don’t know, baby” he says, “search it up” you hum leaning out of his touch to reach for your phone on the nightstand. “tomorrow” he says, pulling you back.

you nod, leaning back into him once again. “why is jello green” you ask, “i don’t know” he says tiredly.

“how do they get it green” you sigh, thinking deeply.

“think about it in the morning” miguel says. “am i being annoying” you ask, turning so your facing him, looking up, you can only seem his face from the moonlight shine peaking through the curtain.

his eyes are closed, eyebrows furrowed, he opens them slightly to look down at you. “no baby, im just tired”

“sorry”

“its okay, i love your blabber” he says, you smile cheesly up at him.

“realllyyy??” you ask.

miguel nods, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “yes, just a little less at one in the morning” he mutters.

“im sorry- im just not tired” you hum, miguel chuckles. “its alright princessa, do you want back rubs” he asks softly, knowing it calms you down.

“yes please” you say softly, “alright, come here” he says pulling you impossibly closer.

soon enough your breathing slows down, head buried in miguels chest as his hands rub circles around your back.

“i love you, and your blabber, always” miguel whispers in your ear as you fall asleep

[littleredwing89]

FAMOUS [PART FIVE]

Bodyguard!Jason Todd x Singer!Reader

Summary: “After you, princess.” You rolled your eyes but smiled as you climbed in. “You know, if you keep calling me that, I might start thinking you’re flirting.”

Warnings: None. A little bit of manhandling with a crazy fan.

A/N: And as promised, here is the next chapter 🥰🥰 sending all my love to you wonderful readers & please enjoy the next chapter - Elle xoxo

———

HANDS OFF

———

The crowd buzzed with excitement as you signed autographs, your smile bright but your energy fading. You were used to this—the fans, the chaos—but sometimes, things got out of hand. Like now.

A fan, much too close for comfort, pushed forward, eagerly shoving a phone in your face. “Can I get a selfie? And an autograph, too?”

Before you could answer, his hand lingered on your arm a little too long, his fingers brushing against your skin in a way that sent a chill down your spine. You tensed, but before you could react, Jason was already moving.

In an instant, Jason had the guy by the collar, effortlessly lifting him up as though he weighed nothing. His grip was firm around the guy’s neck, voice low and dangerous. “Step back, buddy.”

The fan’s eyes widened in shock, his voice shaky. “W-what are you doing?!”

You stepped behind Jason, your heart racing, but your hand instinctively reached out to touch his arm. “Jay, it’s okay, please… Come on, let’s go.” Your voice was soft, trying to soothe the fire in his eyes.

Jason’s glare was locked onto the guy for a moment longer, his jaw tense. But when he looked at you, his expression softened slightly. He glanced between you and the guy before dropping him, letting the fan stumble back.

“Come on,” you urged gently.

Jason put his jacket over your shoulders, pulling you closer as the two of you made your way out of the crowd. You snuggled into the warmth of the jacket, inhaling the scent of his cologne—leather and spice, comforting and familiar.

“Thanks for back there,” you said, offering a soft smile.

Jason looked away, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly flustered. “It’s my job.”

“I know, but—thanks,” you repeated, your hand squeezing his forearm gently. You glanced over at a nearby food stall and grinned. “Let me get you a hotdog as my way of saying thanks. I know you like junk food, Mr. Muscles.”

He smirked, his blue eyes twinkling with amusement. “I’ll take you up on that, Ms. Hotpants.”

You rolled your eyes. “That was one photoshoot.”

“Oh—it was enough,” he teased, his smirk growing wider.

——

As you grabbed your food, Jason stood close to you, his presence reassuring as he blocked the prying eyes of the crowd. It was like a barrier between you and the world, a wall of protection you were getting used to.

“It’s difficult sometimes,” you mused as you both sat down to eat. “People don’t really understand personal limits or space.”

Jason took a huge bite of his hotdog, lathered in an obscene amount of ketchup. “Trust me, I have a brother like that.”

You grinned, glancing at his hotdog. “Got enough ketchup there, bud?”

He grinned back, unbothered. “I think I need another bottle.”

You laughed, squeezing mustard onto yours. “I know I haven’t been the easiest to get along with lately, and I’m sorry. It’s just been hard to adjust, y’know? I’m used to being alone most of the time.”

You tried not to add, Having a hot bodyguard is hard.

Jason shrugged, his voice teasing. “Relax, princess. I know you divas need your space with all that ego and all.”

You blushed at the nickname, rolling your eyes to hide it. “It didn’t help when you started going through all the cupboards in my house.”

Jason rubbed the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. My best friend—who’s an idiot by the way—gave me shit for that.”

You grinned. “Good. Thank him for me.”

Jason scoffed. “I’d rather not.”

——

As you both sat under the dim lights of the street food stall, the noise of the city seemed to fade into the background. It was just the two of you, sharing hotdogs and trading banter like old friends. Jason’s usual guarded expression had softened, and for once, you could see the man behind the tough exterior.

“You know,” you said between bites, “it’s weird. I’ve been in crowds like this my whole career, and I’ve never had someone step in like that before.”

Jason glanced at you, his blue eyes briefly flicking up before returning to his food. “You shouldn’t have to deal with that alone. That’s why I’m here.”

You nodded, appreciating the simplicity of his response. There was no grand speech, no overt promise—just quiet, steady support. It was one of the things you were growing to like about Jason. He didn’t make a big deal out of it, but he was always there when it counted.

“Still,” you mused, wiping a smear of mustard from your lip, “I don’t want to be the girl who needs a bodyguard all the time. I’m supposed to be the badass frontwoman of a rock band.”

Jason chuckled softly, shaking his head. “You can still be badass and have someone watching your back. Besides, I think the crowd would lose it if you started throwing punches on stage.”

You grinned. “Maybe I should try it. Could add a whole new vibe to the show.”

“I’ll be front row for that,” Jason said, smirking.

There was a beat of silence, the kind that usually would have felt awkward, but tonight it felt… easy. Comfortable. You both finished your food, the night air cool against your skin, and for a moment, you let yourself relax. Being around Jason was strange that way—one minute, it felt like you were on edge, and the next, you felt like you could let your guard down completely.

As you tossed the last of your wrappers into the nearby trash can, you noticed Jason watching you, his gaze more thoughtful than usual.

“What?” you asked, brushing your hands on your jeans. “Do I have ketchup on my face?”

He shook his head, still studying you like he was seeing something he hadn’t noticed before. “I just… you’re a lot stronger than people give you credit for.”

You blinked, taken aback by the sincerity in his voice. “What do you mean?”

Jason shifted in his seat, his hands resting on his knees as he leaned forward slightly. “You’re out here every night, dealing with fans, managers, press—and you’re handling it all like it’s nothing. Most people would crack under that kind of pressure. But you? You just keep going.”

You felt your heart skip a beat, the unexpected compliment catching you off guard. Jason wasn’t one to hand out praise lightly, and hearing it from him felt… different. Special, even.

“I’m just doing my job,” you said softly, unsure how to respond.

Jason’s lips quirked into a small smile, and he stood, extending a hand to help you up. “Yeah, well, so am I.”

You took his hand, his grip strong and steady as he pulled you to your feet. For a moment, your hands lingered, the contact sending a spark of warmth through your skin. You quickly let go, clearing your throat.

“Thanks, Jason,” you said, your voice a little quieter than before.

He gave you a brief nod, his expression softening. “Anytime.”

As you both walked back toward the car, the night air cool against your face, you couldn’t help but glance over at him. There was something different about tonight, something unspoken yet undeniable. Jason had always been a wall of protection, a shield between you and the chaos of the world. But tonight, he felt like more than that. He felt like someone you could lean on. Someone you wanted to lean on.

When you reached the car, Jason opened the door for you, his usual teasing smirk back in place. “After you, princess.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled as you climbed in. “You know, if you keep calling me that, I might start thinking you’re flirting.”

Jason chuckled, closing the door behind you before slipping into the driver’s seat. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

——

The ride back to your apartment was quiet, the city lights flashing by as you leaned your head against the window. You watched Jason out of the corner of your eye, his strong hands gripping the wheel, his jaw set in that determined way he always had. And for the first time, you wondered what it would be like to reach across the space between you, to touch his hand, to let yourself get a little closer.

But you didn’t. Instead, you let the comfortable silence fill the car, knowing that for now, this was enough. Jason was enough.

———

Back at the apartment, you kicked off your shoes and flopped onto the couch, letting out a long sigh. The exhaustion of the day had finally caught up with you, and all you wanted to do was curl up under a blanket and sleep for a week.

Jason, ever the professional, leaned against the doorframe, thick arms crossed over his chest. “You need anything else before I head to my room?”

You shook your head, smiling softly. “Nah, I’m good. Thanks for everything tonight.”

He gave you a small nod, but instead of heading to his room, he lingered for a moment, his eyes flicking to the TV. “You’re watching that zombie show again?”

You shrugged, grabbing the remote and flipping through the channels. “It’s comforting. Something about mindless brain-eaters makes me feel better about my own life.”

Jason snorted, pushing off the doorframe and heading toward the kitchen. “You’re weird, you know that?”

“You like it,” you called after him, grinning.

Jason’s voice echoed from the kitchen. “Yeah, yeah.”

You chuckled to yourself, settling back into the couch and pulling the blanket up to your chin. As the familiar sound of zombies groaning filled the room, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of peace wash over you. It was strange—being with Jason had started off as a professional necessity, but now, it felt like something more.

***

[storiesforallfandoms]

too sweet ~ joel miller;the last of us

word count: 3128

request?: no

description: in which his friend's daughter comes on to him and he tries to convince her that they can't be together...tries

pairing: dbf!joel miller x female!reader

warnings: swearing, age gap (reader is early 20s, joel is 36), use of y/n, pre-outbreak/no outbreak, joel did not know the reader before she was 18 because that would be icky

based on this song (which joel miller now owns sorry hozier)

masterlist (one, two, three)

The barbeque was already in full swing as Joel pulled up with Tommy and Sarah. It was a small party his buddy from work, George, was throwing for the start of summer. Everyone was invited, plus significant others and kids. George's house and backyard was huge with a pool, so everyone had happily accepted the invitation.

George and the other guys from work were stood around the barbeque. Tommy went to join them right away. Joel looked down at Sarah. "Go play with the kids."

Sarah looked over at "the kids", which were mainly kids between 2 and 6 years old. There were maybe two other preteens, but they didn't seem to be as social as the younger kids. Sarah looked back at Joel with a skeptical look on her face. Joel nudged her forward before going to join the other men.

"Hey, there he is!" George said. "Glad you made it, Joel."

"Yeah, thanks for the invite," Joel said.

George offered him a beer. "I was just telling the others that my daughter got home early today to surprise Mary and I."

"You're always talking about your daughter, but none of us have ever met her," Tommy noted.

"Oh, that's on purpose with you, Tommy. I wouldn't let you within ten feet of her." The group laughed as Tommy put his hands up in mock surrender. "She's been away for college. She doesn't get to visit a lot besides the summers. We thought she wouldn't be home for another few weeks, but she wanted to surprise us."

George served the first round of burgers to the kids first, then to whoever else wanted whatever was left. Joel was able to snatch one burger before the rest were claimed. He took his plate over to the table where George and his wife had condiments set out. As he was putting ketchup on his burger, a woman stepped up beside him. He glanced at her briefly, and had to stop himself from doing a double take. He had never seen her before, but she was beautiful. He didn't want to stare like a creep, but he did take another quick moment to appreciate her beauty.

She reached for the bottle of ketchup Joel had just put down. That's when Joel noticed she had two burgers on her plate.

"You got lucky there," he said, nodding to her plate.

She looked between her plate and his before chuckling. "You have to act fast. These people are vultures when they smell fresh barbequed meat."

Joel chuckled as well. He picked up his plate and his beer to move along, when two kids suddenly came barreling towards the table. One of them ran into the woman, causing her to stumble into Joel and knock his beer over the front of his shirt. The two kids gasped, then giggled in the unserious way young kids do, before grabbing ketchup and mustard, and running off again.

"Shit, I am so sorry," the woman said.

"S'all right, wasn't your fault," Joel assured her.

She grabbed a handful of napkins and started to dab Joel's shirt. She scrunched up her nose as she tries to get the beer out of his shirt. It was the cutest look Joel had ever seen.

"You're going to reek of beer," she said.

"Maybe you can dump my burger on me and make smell like grease instead."

She glared at him, but there was a playful look in her eyes.

Joel's breath hitched as she slipped her hand under his shirt and pressed the napkin against her hand through the shirt. If she touched his chest, she would feel how quickly his heart was beating. She looked up from the beer spill into Joel's eyes. Her hand paused its movements as they held eye contact.

"What's going on over here?"

She pulled her hand from under Joel's shirt and discarded the wet napkin onto the table next to them as George walked up. "Two of the kids ran into us and I spilled beer over...um..."

Joel realized they hadn't been formally introduced yet. "Joel."

"I spilled beer over Joel's shirt. I'm trying to soak it up as much as I can."

"You're better off getting another shirt," George said. "Even if you dry off, it'll have that beer smell all day. Run inside and grab a t-shirt from my room, honey."

The woman took off towards George's house. It took Joel a moment to realize what George had said. "Wait, is that...?"

George chuckled and nodded. "What a way for you to meet my daughter, huh?"

It may have been dramatic to say, but for a moment, it felt like everything crashed down around Joel. He almost felt wrong for having any sort of attraction towards her knowing now that she was George's daughter. He knew she wasn't terribly young; she'd be in her early 20s going by what he knew from George. But, that was still an almost 20 year age difference, and Joel was friends with her dad. It wouldn't be right for him to pursue her, no matter how much he wanted to.

She came back with a black t-shirt and offered it to Joel. As he took it, she said, "My name is (Y/N), by the way."

"Nice to meet you," Joel said.

He took the shirt and went into the house to change. When he came back out, George had gotten him another beer and more food. If he had seen anything between Joel and (Y/N), he wasn't letting on.

For the rest of the evening, Joel made sure to avoid (Y/N). He could see her looking at him every so often. She would try and approach him or talk to him, but he would find a reason to walk away. After a few hours, when he was sure Tommy wouldn't complain about wanting to stay, Joel decided it was time to go. He thanked George for having them over and rounded up Sarah and Tommy to go. As they walked to the truck, Tommy said, "You have a thing for the daughter, huh?"

"Big thing," Sarah agreed.

Joel ignored them both and got into the truck.

It was hard to forget about (Y/N). Joel thought that once he had left, he'd be able to put (Y/N) out of his mind. He wouldn't have to see her again, so all the thoughts he had about her should've stayed at the party. That's how he thought it would go, anyways, but things rarely ever go as planned. Instead, Joel found his thoughts were almost constantly consumed by (Y/N). Especially when he was alone at night, with nothing to distract himself. The image of her would come to him as he was laying in bed, trying to sleep. He knew it should've felt wrong, but his want for her outweighed the knowing that he shouldn't want her.

The next time Joel saw (Y/N) was during work. He and the guys were taking a break from their latest project when a car pulled up to the site. Joel had glanced over for a second as the door opened and someone got out, just to see who it was. He looked away, but then his brain registered who it was and his head quickly swung back around to look at her.

(Y/N) was in a pair of the shortest shorts Joel had ever seen, and was wearing a tank top. There was nothing inherently wrong with the way she was dressed. It was a hot day out after all. But seeing her like that made Joel's inappropriate thoughts run wild, which was not a good thing considering George was sat just a few feet from him.

"Hey sweetheart!" George called. "What are you doin'?"

"Mom told me to bring you your lunch," (Y/N) responded as she approached the group. She held out a paper bag to her dad. "You left it on the counter."

"God bless that woman," George said as he took the bag. "I was already an hour into work before I realized I had left it home. I thought I'd have to run down the street and get a sandwich or something."

"You know mom wouldn't have let you do that," (Y/N) said, giving her dad a bright smile that managed to distract Joel from the way she was dressed.

(Y/N) stuck around for the rest of their break as everyone started asking her questions. Joel tried to keep his focus on his own food, but it was nearly impossible not to look at her. It was like she was a magnet trying to draw him in.

When the rest of the guys got up to go, Joel lingered back. He shouldn't, but the way (Y/N) was looking at him told her that she wasn't about to let him leave so easily anyways.

"We have some unfinished business," she told him.

"Do we?" Joel asked. "Last I checked, there was nothing else to happen after our last encounter."

"You were ignoring me that whole party," (Y/N) said. "After we seemed to have a pretty good connection after I bumped you. I think I deserve to know why you suddenly changed your mind."

"You got that idea from a short interaction?"

"I saw the way you looked at me, Joel. I'm not an idiot."

Joel sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Listen, (Y/N), you know why I changed my mind. You're a smart girl, I'm sure you figured it out on your own."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "I had a feeling. I was just hoping I was wrong."

"I do think you are a beautiful woman, but nothing can happen between us. You're too young - "

"I am an adult!" she argued.

"You are a young adult. I still have at least 16 years on you. I have a daughter, a career. You're still young and in college trying to make something for yourself. Not to mention, your dad is a good friend of mine. He would kill me if he found out anything was happening between us."

(Y/N) broke their eye contact to look down at the ground. Her mood had completely changed, and Joel could see it in her face. He felt bad to have to reject her, but it was the right thing to do. He couldn't have her throwing herself at him when they both knew it wasn't right. She would be better off finding someone her own age while at school - a thought that made Joel's heart ache, but he knew it was better for her.

"It was nice to meet you, Joel," she said before turning to walk away.

Joel watched her go back to the car. He could see the dejected look on her face as she got into the driver's side. He shook his head, trying not to linger too much on how rejecting her made him feel, before turning to go back to work.

~~~~~~

About a week later, George had invited Joel and Sarah over for dinner. It wasn't unusual for him to do so. He said that Mary enjoyed having more people to cook for, especially when (Y/N) was gone. And usually, Joel accepted in a heartbeat. He and Sarah loved Mary's cooking. Actually, Sarah often said that she preferred it to Joel's.

But this time when George asked, Joel hesitated. He came up with some excuse that he and Sarah had other plans. When he hung up, Sarah was stood in the doorway with her arms crossed.

"We don't have plans," she said.

"No, we don't," Joel said with a defeated sigh. There was no arguing or lying to Sarah.

"Then why did you say we did?"

"I just don't feel up to going to George's tonight."

"You can't avoid going there all summer just because you have a thing for (Y/N). He'll start to get suspicious eventually."

Joel glared at his daughter. "You know entirely too much for a 14 year old."

"I'm very perceptive. Call George back and tell him we're coming, or I will."

And that's how Joel found himself following Sarah to George and Mary's front door. Sarah turned the knob and let them in, another usual. There was no need for knocking when they were already so familiar with the place. Mary was the first to greet them, pulling Sarah into a hug and commenting about how much she's grown. She hugged Joel as well and told him that George was in the living room.

George and Joel sat on the couch watching TV while Sarah sat on the floor in front of them.

"Do you need any help?" Sarah asked Mary.

"Oh, thank you honey, but I'll be alright," Mary responded. "I have my own girl here to help me tonight."

Joel tensed for a moment at the mention of (Y/N), but tried to calm himself down so that George wouldn't notice.

After about 20 minutes, (Y/N) appeared in the living room to tell them that dinner was ready. Joel couldn't help himself from looking at her. She was wearing a floral summer dress that was down to her knees and had spaghetti straps, and her hair was pulled back into a braid. She looked absolutely stunning. And now he was mentally cursing himself for giving into Sarah.

They sat around the table, with George and Mary at the heads, Joel on one side by himself, and Sarah and (Y/N) sat next to each other. Luckily for him, Sarah spearheaded most of the conversations. If Mary wasn't asking Sarah how things were going with her, Sarah was asking (Y/N) about herself. The two got along so well that Joel couldn't help but picture how Sarah would be if (Y/N) was around all the time.

Between dinner and dessert, Joel excused himself to go to the bathroom. As he came out a few minutes later, he found (Y/N) stood on the other side of the door.

"Sorry," she said, backing up to give him some space. "I wasn't coming to ambush you again, I promise. I actually have to use the bathroom."

"It's okay," Joel said.

But neither of them made a move. They just stood there on opposite sides of the hallway, looking at one another.

"Sarah's nice," (Y/N) finally said, breaking the silence. "She seems like a great kid."

"She is," Joel said. "She seems to like you, too."

"I like her, too."

Silence fell over them again. (Y/N) was avoiding eye contact. Joel longed to reach out for her and tilt her head back so he could look into those beautiful eyes. Keeping his hands to his side was starting to become a difficult task.

"I'm sorry about that day at your work," (Y/N) said, being the one to break the silence again. "I went with the intention of trying to get your attention, and it really wasn't fair of me. I understand why you don't want to be with me, and it was foolish of me to think there was a possibility of anything happening between us."

"You weren't foolish," Joel told her.

She let out a sound that was half laugh, half scoff. "No, I was. I knew from the moment we met that there was no way anything would happen between us. I just really hoped that maybe my assumption in that was wrong and you wanted me enough to look past my age. I mean, I'm not a kid by any means, but I do understand how our age gap would make you feel uncomfortable."

Joel was moving before his mind could process what he was doing. (Y/N) was mid sentence as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a kiss. It had been what he was thinking of for so long that he had officially lost the battle of restraint with his own body. And the kiss was everything he could've expected it to be. Her lips were so soft, her body fit perfectly against his. He wanted to let his hands wander, to travel up the hem of her dress and see how far she would let him go, but that was definitely not something that could happen at this time.

When they broke away, (Y/N) was looking at him in awe.

"You're not foolish," he repeated.

"I might be, because I want to do that again."

He chuckled. "Yeah, me too. But we probably shouldn't be gone for much longer or else someone may come looking for us."

"You're right." Reluctantly, (Y/N) pulled out of Joel's arms. He already felt wrong not holding her. "Are you sure about...what we just did? You're not regretting it, are you?"

"I may regret it later, but right now I don't," he said. "I just want you to realize what you're getting into if we do let this happen between us. For one, your parents aren't going to be happy. When the summer ends, you'll be going back to your college campus full of guys who are actually around your age."

(Y/N) scoffed. "You're giving 20 year old guys way more credit than they deserve. Most of them act as if they were mentally stunted in their freshman year of high school and likely won't mature until they hit their 30s."

"Okay, fair point," Joel chuckled. "But you also realize you're getting into something with an older man who has a daughter, right? I'm not saying that if things get serious between us that you have to become a mother figure to Sarah, but dating someone with a kid is different."

"I like Sarah, Joel. I would love to do things with you and with her if she's comfortable about it. Genuinely, I'm seeing no downsides here."

Joel smiled and he couldn't stop himself from quickly kissing (Y/N) again.

"Go back to the dining room before they start to wonder where we are," she told him. "I was being honest when I said I had to use the bathroom."

Joel chuckled and kissed the top of her head before letting her go into the bathroom. When he came back to the table, Mary was putting the dessert on the table. The three looked up at him as he slid back into his seat.

"Everything alright?" George asked. "You were gone for a while."

"Oh yeah, everything's fine," Joel assured him. "Just got a bit...held up in the bathroom. Poor (Y/N) had to wait forever for me to come out."

Across the table, Sarah was giving Joel a knowing look, and started to smile.

[mangoisms]

circle k (back to you)

summary: in which you're just the graveyard shift employee at circle k bombarded by vigilantes.

━ chapter one: on my way to circle k

━ pairing: tim drake x f!reader

━ word count: 4.3k

━ warnings: none

━ masterlist

The Slurpee machine is broken again. 

It isn’t that big of an issue, not particularly world-ending, no, especially since you get regularly held at gunpoint (or knifepoint) and occasionally used as a hostage. 

But for you, working the night shift from eleven PM to seven AM, you kind of need the sugar boost. The Slurpees are easier on your stomach than the coffee is. Even if they do stain your mouth. 

You sigh, continuing to stare at the machine; it whirs and sputters strangely and you set aside the cup to shut it off. You’ll also need to file the paperwork for it to be fixed. That seriously blows. 

You get it unplugged just as the gust of wind hits. 

You stumble. Shelves groan in protest. Several rows of granola bars and trail mix are sent flying. 

Oh, great, who is it now—

You hear your name in a question, from a very familiar voice. 

You spit out a mouthful of your hair. “Flash?”

Sure enough, in the flesh, the Flash grins at you, blue lightning fading from his body. He spreads his arms as he exclaims your name again.

In a blink, he is there, arms wrapping around you, lifting you off the ground as he squeezes the life out of you. Another blink and you’re on the ground, looking at him, his hand on your shoulder. 

“Look at you, kid. It’s good to see you. I can’t believe you’re still working here.”

A stupid grin forms on your lips. “It’s not the same here without you eating up our inventory.”

He laughs. “I bet!”

You shake your head, fixing your hair and your shirt. Flash notices the state of the granola bars and trail mix, sends you an apologetic smile, and in the next blink, they are back on the shelves, neatly arranged. 

“So, what brings you here? If you can answer that.”

He waves a hand, flitting around, emptying the sausage grill and making himself several hot dogs. 

“One of the rogues got a little, shall we say, ambitious and wanted to try his luck here. Just trying to snatch him up before Batman finds out.”

“Let me guess—Trickster?”

He points a hot dog loaded with mustard and ketchup at you. “Bingo.”

“It’s dripping.”

“Aw, shit.” He shoves the rest of the hot dog in his mouth, grabs a napkin, and starts dabbing at the spot of mustard on his suit. 

You watch him, amused, but also morbidly fascinated as usual at seeing him eat so much. When he finishes the hot dogs, he goes for the pizza. It makes sense when you think about it, that a guy who can run faster than the speed of light should need to eat so much, but it’s been a while since you’ve had the pleasure of watching him refuel. Six months, actually, since you returned from Keystone City. 

You scratch your head. “I’m not sure why Trickster would want to come here. Batman, I think, is a worse punishment than you—”

“Agree, even if that’s also a little insulting to me.”

“Oh, you know what I mean. You’re avoiding him, aren’t you?”

Flash nods. “This is true. Carry on.”

“Well… Gotham already has a joke-themed guy. I don’t think Joker is going to take too kindly to someone encroaching on that. Unless he’s back in Arkham. Though he might’ve escaped again…”

“Y’see, that’s what I thought. It’s gonna sound bad, too, but I’m kinda hoping those two take care of each other, then I can get Trickster back to Iron Heights without any issues. But—”

You crack a smile, guessing his next words immediately. “When is it ever that easy?”

You had once believed the Flash to be just about infallible. After all, he is the Flash. This is the guy who, like you said, can run faster than the speed of light. He can canvas a city in under a minute. That’s how he takes care of Central City and Keystone City. (Well, the addition of the other Flash and Kid Flash probably help, too, but you know.)

But it’s not that easy. It’s why, you think, Metropolis has issues, even when they have Superman. 

No rest for the wicked and all. 

“Well, it’s still good to see you,” you say, a tad more hesitantly this time. Unsure if you can say that. 

Flash looks back at you, sending you a warm smile. “It’s good to see you, too. How’s school?”

“No classes now. Financial aid doesn’t cover the summer, so.”

He frowns. “You’re still on track to graduate next year, though, right?”

You pause, surprised he remembered you saying that. “Yeah, yeah, I am.” 

Flash nods, worries assuaged, then his gaze strays to the Slurpee machine, its lights turned off. “Aw, it’s not working?”

“Not today, sorry.”

He purses his lips, head tilting as he looks at the counter where the machine and your abandoned cup are. 

“Wait a second,” he says, then the food that was in his hands is on the counter and he’s gone with arcs of blue lightning following him, a tingly feeling spreading through your fingertips and toes, like when you used to be a kid and dragged your hands across those old TV screens, feeling the static. 

True to his word, in the next second, he is in front of you, two Slurpees in hand. One blue raspberry and another cherry. 

You grin as he proudly presents the blue raspberry Slurpee to you. 

“Thanks.”

He winks. “My pleasure.”

He collects his food again then gestures to the front with his head. Sipping at the ice-cold Slurpee, you follow him, sliding behind the counter.

“Time to head off?” you guess, ringing up the food he already ate, then the rest of the stuff. 

He slips out a few bills from a hidden pocket at his hip. “Yeah, I need to go before—”

“Flash!” The door opens roughly. You balk as you see who it is. “Seriously? You can’t just run off. You’re just as bad as Impulse sometimes, I swear.”

Red Robin stands there, hands on his hips, scowling, doing a good impression of a teacher scolding a student, which is really weird for you, since you’ve always held a good dose of fear and respect for the Bats and this doesn’t really… go on par with that. And also, you’re pretty sure Flash is older than him. 

Flash frowns. “Now that’s seriously uncalled for. I’m much better than he is. We were done talking, weren’t we? You’d call me if you found anything and it’s not like it would take me time to get there, would it?”

Red Robin doesn’t respond to that, mostly because he’s looking at you now. You’ve never seen him up close — any of them up close. Black fair falls sharply over his forehead, a black domino mask hiding his eyes. Not like a normal one; this one allows for more coverage under his eyes, going down to his nose, the end of which curves in a way reminiscent of a bird. But under the bright fluorescents of Circle K, everything else is easy to make out. Pale skin, a sharp jaw, a soft-looking mouth. 

Great. He’s hot. And something else… something that niggles at you. Familiar in a way that bothers you because you’ve never seen him in person. Not like this. 

You swallow nervously, giving him a half-hearted wave. The action jars him and he looks away from you quickly. 

“Hey, don’t be mean to her,” Flash chides. “Seriously. Look at her. You’ve made her nervous.”

“Flash.”

He shoots you a troublesome grin. “Nah, don’t worry about him, kid. He’s harmless.”

“Flash,” Red Robin hisses out, his voice sounding stranger than before, modulated, in a way. 

You compose yourself, giving Flash a look. “You know better than that. Perception means everything.”

“That is true,” he says. “But believe me. If fear worked as well as they’d like it to, Gotham would be the safest city in the country.”

A long-suffering sigh. Red Robin is turned away now and by the movement of his arm, pinching the bridge of his nose, exasperated. 

“Hey, I’m not wrong,” he says to him, even despite you silently waving for him to drop it. “Look, fear is fine and all. But I don’t think there’s anything wrong with nurturing relationships with the people you protect. That’s what I did with you, isn’t it, kid?”

“Yeah, but I’m also not, you know, from there…”

He collects his change. “Which is why it’s even more embarrassing that these guys make you nervous and I don’t.”

Red Robin huffs. 

Flash shrugs, smirking. “Just food for thought. I’ll see you around, yeah, kiddo? Gotta get going before this guy gets annoyed enough to just tell Batman about me and then I’ll really have problems.”

Then he’s gone, blue lightning arcing in his wake. Red Robin sighs again and leaves without a word or backward glance. 

You stand there for a minute, unsure if that really happened. But the signature Slurpee cup of blue raspberry, already sweating because the June heat in Gotham is unbearable and the AC is not up to task, assures you very much that that did just happen.

A little unsteady, you take a seat on the stool, shaking your head and dragging the cup to you. 

At least you got to see Flash again.

You don’t see him again, which is what you expected. 

What you don’t expect is the appearance of Red Robin the next night. 

You’ve grown up in Gotham City. Like anyone else, you have a healthy dose of fear and respect for the vigilantes that prowl the shadows. You also, unlike Vicki Vale or any journalist or obsessive conspiracy theorist, have absolutely zero interest in interacting with them. 

Usually, interacting with them means you are in grave danger. 

(You had to unlearn some of that during your brief tenure in Keystone City; the Flash was a little bit different from them. Maybe more than a little bit…)

So, when Red Robin shows up at Circle K at half past one in the morning, you are… a tad wary. 

It doesn’t help that he seems awkwardly frozen, too, as your voice catches in the middle of your perfunctory Hi, welcome in as you realize who it is. 

For a minute, it is painfully, painfully quiet. 

“Is there something—”

“Do you have any—”

You both stop. You purse your lips. Red Robin is… blushing a little bit? Holy shit.

“Go ahead,” he says, clearing his throat after. His voice still sounds off like yesterday—modulated.

You grimace. “Sorry, I was just asking if there was something going on? Should I lock down the shop or hide or something?”

He looks briefly confused. “No? I mean, no… Everything is fine. I was just wondering if you guys had any, uh—” he seems to falter, scrambling a little bit “—hot… chocolate?”

Hot chocolate in June? What a weirdo.

You keep your face straight, though. 

Flash might’ve let you off the hook when it came to formalities but you’d be an idiot to think you could get away with that with these guys. 

He exhales the briefest laugh at something, then—you, you realize, your expression, which should be perfectly polite, what the hell. He turns his head away as a smile curls his lips. That niggling feeling—which began as soon as you realized he was here—strengthens. You push it away for a second.

“I know. Late night. Don’t like coffee, so it’s a good alternative.”

How did he—? 

Must be the detective thing.

You apologize anyway. 

“Sorry. My, uh, friend’s like that, in a way,” you say, your tongue again moving faster than your brain can grapple with. He won’t care about the fact that your friend, Tim, is like that, too. Well, Tim likes the occasional energy drink if he’s staying up late because he doesn’t like coffee. Not this hot chocolate business. But maybe? Doesn’t sound like a bad idea, actually. Probably better than Red Bull, even if he doesn’t drink it often, maybe once or twice a month. And, anyway, it’s not the point. This guy doesn’t care. He probably couldn’t care less. You’re just trying to show him—oh, it doesn’t matter. This entire thing has gone straight to shit. All because he managed to read your judgment.

“Oh?” It’s a question but it’s a bit strangled. See? He doesn’t care. Poor guy. Probably trying to think of a way to get out of this. Well, you’ll do him one better. 

“Uh, yeah… he’s—well. Doesn’t matter. Yeah, the machine is working. It’s over there.” 

“Thanks.”

You nod and glance away, leaving him to cross to the other side of the store. You can’t help but watch him go, watching the way the heavy black cape swishes with his movements, boots soundless on the shitty tiled floors. He disappears behind the shelf, but his head is visible. A head of dark, dark hair that seems… familiar to you.

Ugh. What is with you?

It’s Red freakin’ Robin. You’ve glimpsed him and the others briefly. Shadows in the night, swinging from buildings, jumping from rooftops. Anybody who lives in Gotham long enough has seen the same. Doesn’t mean you know him enough to be this way, to be so bothered by something that won’t even come to mind.

You shake your head briefly. 

You should think more on why he’s even here.

Though, it seems obvious, given what happened yesterday night.

Flash has a way of getting beneath your skin and inciting the most childish tendencies. You imagine his little comment about trust between vigilante and citizen bothered Red Robin.

Well, rest assured, you understand the position they are in. You enjoyed the way Flash visited you but they can’t afford that. Perception is gold. It is true, in some ways, that if it were as effective as they wanted it to be, Gotham would be less crime-ridden than it currently is. 

(But that was also a conundrum with the corrupt government. So long as the systems were in place, crime would always happen, and it would take more than the Bats to fix that.)

Either way, they cannot afford for that mask to slip—metaphorically and literally.

There is a level of trust, you think, between the Bats and the people but… it’s not the same kind Flash fosters with his own. 

You feel obligated to let Red Robin know that, with that, he has no obligation to do anything out of the ordinary. 

So, that’s what you do when he comes back over to the counter, two small cups of hot chocolate in hand.

“You don’t have to do this, you know.”

He turns forward with a five dollar bill in hand. “I can’t just not pay—”

“I’m not talking about that.” 

He is paying. You are moderately appreciative of what they do but not that appreciative. 

“So, what else is it that I don’t have to do?”

You gesture between you two. “This. Come here to try and prove the Flash wrong.”

“I’m not—”

You try to level with him. 

“It’s cool, man. He can be annoying. Annoying enough that he could make anyone want to prove him wrong. I get it. But he’s also a little bit of a doof when it comes to matters of the public. Though I’m betting he was trying to aggravate you more than anything. Either way, I get it. You have an image to keep up. Do what you have to do.”

“So, you don’t want me to come back?” Not an accusation. A genuine question.

You blink. “That’s not what I said. I don’t mind. I’m just… letting you know.”

“What do you know about it, anyway? Upholding an image? You seem very confident on the do’s and don’ts, despite being a civilian.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You guys actually refer to us non-vigilantes as civilians? Like, unironically?”

He doesn’t say anything. Just looks at you with the emotionless white lids of the domino mask, lips pressed in a line.

You smile and roll your eyes, finally taking his five and opening the register. “I’m majoring in communication with a concentration in PR. Did an internship at Quickstart Enterprises last semester working with their PR department. You can say I know a thing or two about it.”

“What year?”

“Just finished my third. Starting my final in the fall. Look, I’m not saying you have to take my advice, I just wanted you to know. That’s all. I’m not holding it against you.”

“I’ll take it under advisement.”

You slide his change to him. “That’s all I ask.”

He picks up the cups, says, “Keep the change,” and then, he’s gone, dark cape fluttering, his figure swallowed up by the darkness of the night. 

The only traces of his presence is the door slowly closing and the change still sitting on the counter.

These hero-types and their dramatic exits. Honestly. 

You meet the Flash in your second week of work at Circle K.

The stipend from QE covered your housing and groceries but didn’t allow for much options regarding the latter. At least not the fresh produce kind. 

So, you picked up a job at Circle K. Part-time only, which worked well with the schedule you had at QE. You typically worked evenings—not the graveyard shift you do now, which you took only because it paid better during the night—so from seven to eleven. 

The Flash was different from the Bats in that regard. While Signal worked during the day, the rest of them worked during the night. 

Flash told you he liked sleep, so he would take care of things during a reasonable hour in the evening to accommodate that, which meant you were beheld to his presence. 

Frequently.

And the first time…

You have no idea what to make of the superhero currently raiding the sausage grill.

A larger part of you is suspicious, hoping that the Flash isn’t about to come up to you and say something arrogant about not being required to pay. A lot of the cops you get say something to that effect. It takes so much willpower in you to not roll your eyes. 

But another part of you right now, the Tim part of your brain, is fascinated. Wants to ask some geeky questions about his power. Presumably, the fact that he is the fastest man alive means he has to eat a lot to sustain it, right?

Well. That one is a bit self-explanatory. At least if the way he’s stuffing his face tells you anything.

Suspicion wins out, though.

Keystone City is a nice enough city. Central City, across the river, is the same. They aren’t Gotham, that’s for sure, and sometimes you don’t know if that’s a blessing or a curse. 

It’s mostly that Keystone City is situated in Kansas and across the Mississippi, in Mississippi, is Central City. These regions of the country, historically conservative, make you a bit tetchy. Not at all helped by the fact that for a very long time, Keystone City was suspended in the fifties. Or rather, what they thought were the fifties. Time passed normally outside of it until the Flash fixed everything.

It gives Keystone an aesthetic old-timey vibe to it but with all the modern luxuries of the late 2010s, like phones and, you know, civil rights. 

But things have been okay, for the most part. The people you encounter here at Circle K are amiable enough. (Well, except for the cops you get. You could go without dealing with those idiots.)

Though, admittedly, between work for QE and here and trying to keep yourself fed and (mostly) rested, you haven’t gotten out much.

The Flash, though… you haven’t directly encountered him. Not in your few weeks here. Sometimes when walking to the subway, you feel the sharp gust of wind, commonly associated with him as he makes his way through the city faster than a speeding bullet, glass windows and cars rattling dangerously in the aftermath of his path. On the news, when he takes down whichever rogue woke up on the wrong side of the bed, and in the newspaper. But nothing beyond that.

People speak fondly of him, for the most part. Rumors are solid sources of information but you just can’t help but be a little bit suspicious. There is such a thing as too good to be true, after all…

You reach for your half-empty cup of blue raspberry Slurpee. Though it’s the beginning of September, summer takes longer to leave the midwest, you’ve learned, and the summers here are loads worse than ones you’ve experienced in Gotham. 

Before you can even get your mouth around the red straw, a breeze hits and you blink, finding the Flash in front of you, depositing mostly empty cartons of hot dogs onto the counter, with a few of them still full. On their way to being empty, though, as he crams more into his mouth. A cup of cherry Slurpee finishes it off.

The Flash points a half-eaten hot dog at you. “You aren’t from around here, are you?”

You narrow your eyes. “I’m sorry?”

“No, no, not like that. You’ve just got this suspicion to you. This… paranoia. A paranoia that can only belong to someone from Gotham,” he says, nodding to himself. 

Well, that’s—

Hm.

A bit embarrassed to be caught out like that—because it isn’t the first time—you attempt to make up for it.

“I’m from Metropolis, actually.” 

Best to stay on the east coast. Even you couldn’t pass as someone from the west coast, like Star City or Coast City or something. 

Flash grins at you. “Liar.”

You aren’t used to this kind of playful banter. Certainly not from a literal superhero, from someone who regularly saves the world with the likes of Superman, Batman, and Wonder Woman and more. You don’t think you expected the cold brutality the city gets from the Bats back home but… you didn’t expect this, either.

To get a much-needed sense of normalcy, you scan one of the hot dog cartons, adding them up on the screen.

“Was it that obvious? I wasn’t trying to be… I mean, I was, but, you know, I didn’t, um…”

You stop, cringing. Very eloquent and more than a little annoying, given your career choice. Can’t be like that when you get put on the spot. Even if it’s by a superhero. Especially if it’s by a superhero. Journalists are even worse, anyway…

“Relax, kid,” he laughs. “To tell you the truth, it was hard to miss but I’m sort of geared for that kind of thing, what with my choice in career.”

“Right.” You scan the Slurpee and take a drink of yours while he fiddles with some zipper in his suit. A deep red, with a purple tinge, a silver Flash symbol on his chest, and a cowl, but with the top free, showing off a shock of red hair, and his eyes still exposed. Pretty green.  

“But I do have an unfair advantage,” he goes on. “I see a similar look every time I have a League meeting.”

You blink. “The League…?”

“You should know. Your caped crusader, Batman. Of course, that’s also because he doesn’t like me—and the feeling is mutual, trust me—but, you know. Schematics. He sits right across from me and that’s all I get, this classic brand of Gothamite suspicion on top of the usual wordless Batman disapproval.”

“Should you be telling me that?”

He hands you a twenty. You pop open the register to break it. Another breeze hits and the empty cartons of hot dogs are shoved into the trash, with him eating the last one and on his way to finishing the large cup of cherry-flavored Slurpee. 

“I mean, what are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know,” you say lightly, calculating his change. “I could go to the press. Breaking News: Strife within the League. Tenuous relations between Batman and the Flash.”

“Oh, really?”

“That’s the press. A common dislike will absolutely turn into that in their headlines. They would take it and run.”

“That is true. You a journalist?” 

“Oh, no. Communications, with a concentration in public relations.”

Flash thinks on it for a second, finishing his hot dog, then the Slurpee. You partially expect him to get angry. It would be a justified reaction. He doesn’t know you and you don’t know him. You can admit that some of what you just said is a bit… imperious. Who are you to lecture him, right?

“You aren’t wrong,” he finally says, repeating his earlier words as the last hot dog carton and Slurpee cup disappear from the counter—thrown in the trash. 

“But,” he presses, accepting the change from you—a few dollars—then dropping it into your tip jar. “I know you aren’t going to take that to the press.”

“How’s that?” 

He points at you. “Because I don’t think you’re the kind of person to do that.”

“You’re appealing to my morals?”

“Yes. Is it working?”

“Not much work to be had,” you admit. “I was never going to. I was just…”

“Being nice and telling me I should watch what I say,” he finishes, grinning. “Which is true. All true. I just couldn’t help myself. What’s your name, kid?”

You tell him. He extends a hand.

“It’s nice to meet you. Welcome to Keystone City. Hope you enjoy your stay.”

A bit bemused, you nod politely and say, “Thanks.”

Before he can say anything else, he visibly tenses, lifting a hand to the Hermes-like wings at his ears, then, in the next blink, he is gone, off to stop someone or something, leaving you with a sharp gust of wind that rattles the windows and knocks the candy from the shelves under the counter onto the ground.

Well, then.

Talk about a first impression. 

reblogs are appreciated!

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[justevelynnnn]

“Mustard & Ketchup”

Summary: you’re a runaway mutant and you need a place to stay. you find one but is it worth the chaos?

Warnings: mentions of blood and knives, profanity, written with fem!reader in mind but could be gender neutral or male iyw

A/N: This has been in my drafts for weeks so I gotta get it out before the dust collects on it💀 not really proofread tbh..

You stared at the paper in you hand titled in big letters “Roomate needed” and sighed.

You were a mutant who couch surfed after running away from home. Cue typical tragic backstory stuff. Anyways, the last person found out what you were and you had to bounce. Now you needed a place to stay for cheap and quick. You had a job at some bar (that was a secret mutant friendly space) but it couldn’t really pay bills, let alone rent.

So after work one day, when you saw a roommate need flyer you grabbed it immediately. Under the title was an odd drawing of a ketchup bottle and a mustard bottle done in crayon with some red guy in the corner waving. Then under that was the following(also in crayon) : roomate needed asap. rent’s under $300. must be ok with dogs, blind old people, claws and blood. (Like lots of blood)

You sighed. It’s been a week on streets and sleeping on cold benches and that rent was enticing. Whoever made the flyer though was definitely either a child or someone extremely questionable but you definitely weren’t in any spot to be picky right now. Even though you were slightly turned away by the emphasis of “being ok with blood” (what the hell could that even mean!?!) Maybe you can save up while there and hopefully move out soon.

The address was at the bottom of the paper so you decided you’ll stop by in the morning.

The apartment actually wasn’t too far from the bar and the bench you claimed for the week was close to the bar also so after doing a quick freshing up in the bar bathroom you made your way to the apartment. It was decent enough…nothing shady..but nothing special either. The second you got to the door you heard screaming and a dog barking. Was this really the place?

Just when you were about to turn around and rethink this whole thing the door flung open. You gasped as a man with….spotted skin?? stood at the door with a knife stuck in the side of his head. He was bald and actually kinda tall? Notably, he also wore pink boxers paired with a my little pony shirt. No socks. Very odd sight to see and take in.

“Sorry, I think I have the wrong-“ you started but the man looked down at you holding the flyer and immediately exclaimed, “Oh! Logan! Someone’s seen one of the flyers I made! Oh, do come on in we were just having a friendly fight…”

All you could muster was, “Friendly?” As you glanced at the knife and blood in his shirt. Distracted, he successfully ushered you in the door as you were soon met with a small, old looking dog with its tongue hanging out. It barked at you and you jumped slightly.

“Oh, don’t mind her…he’s as sweet as pie. Well, maybe some really old and hairy pie but still sweet regardless.” The man said as he closed the door. “I’m Wade by the way.”

You smiled at the dog but soon turned to protest being in the apartment. It was quite the scene. You knew it was at least more than one person living here, not only because you heard arguing before the door opened but because of all the stuff. I mean, no way this was all him? Right?

“Hey, so, you know what…I dunno about all this…I mean..wow..” You looked around and soon noticed more blood, clothes everywhere, multiple bottles of alcohol , definitely a lot of knifes and..swords..? Half lit cigars? And why does the couch have 3 large claw marks in them? Surely, it couldn’t have been this dog.

Was that stuffed unicorn?

Wade noticed you concerned and sighed.

“You know this place was a lot neater a week ago, but let’s just say I recently adopted an alcohol addicted wolverine so everything has gone to shit. I mean, look at my head!” The man dramatically pointed to the knife. “He did this!”

You just laughed and backed up. Okay, now it’s time to really get the hell out. Of course, before you could move or even reply, soon entered another character. You watched a gruff, also taller but older looking man walk out. He was, too, covered with splats of blood.

“Speak of the devil. Hey, you got an apology yet, wolvie? Hm? Go on.” Wade crossed his arms and glared at the other man but the man just stared at you in confusion.

“Wade, who the fuck is this?”

Oh, this was awkward.

“I told you, someone saw our flyer! You never listen! Y’know, I’m starting to want a divorce!”

“Our flyer??”

“Well, I told you I was making one! Again, you don’t listen! You’re not being very mindful or demure right now!”

“What??????” Cue a head tilt which you found sightly amusing. “What the fuck are you talking about-….”

You decided to interrupt. “Um..yeah so if it’s gonna be a problem I can go….”

You started moving towards the door but Wade stopped you and said, “Oh, no no no..don’t let this meanie beanie weenie scare you away. This monster. This..this drunk!” Wade glared at him as the man rolled his eyes and looked away. “You’re welcomed to the family as of right freaking now!.”

The older man sighed and silently cursed as Wade sat you on the couch.

“Well, I don’t have anything other than this paper I guess..oh and my wallet and phone.” You decided you should also tell them the biggest secret you normally keep from others. That you were a mutant. Luckily for you, it was more hidden but it scared the hell out of the last person you stayed with so you wanted to get it out the way now. “Um…I should have you know, since my other folks didn’t like that i suprised them.. that I am a…y’know..”

You trailed off hoping he would get it but you quickly got your answer when Wade shouted, “A mutant!”

The old man glanced at you for a second as you fearfully watched their reactions but when the older man didn’t move and Wade hugged you,rather tightly also, you felt some relief.

“Me, too girlfriend…actually us two! It’s so nice to have another mutant friend. This whole thing is playing out just like my fan-fiction!”

“Us?” You asked ignoring the odd comment he made at the end.

“Means me.” The older man spoke up. “Name’s Logan.”

He waved once and walked up to Wade.

Logan asked Wade if he could speak alone and Wade told you to stay put as they went into another room. As you heard some back and forth going on you couldn’t help but wonder what mutations they could have. Maybe that explains Wades skin? And the fact he had a nice in his head, even now still, that didn’t seem to bother him. At first you just ruled him out as crazy but this makes sense too.

You were left alone for 5 minutes until Wade came back out.

“Okay, so, here’s the deal. Logan is being a big fat baby but I say you can stay on the account this is my place. We definitely need some extra hands around here so you can just stay on the couch. All the beds are taken right now unless you wanna share with me or Wolvie. And umm, do you already have a job?”

“Well, I work at the bar not to far from here…” You calmly replied.

Wade nodded “Great! Got another alcohol fan here, you’ll get along great with Mr. buns of steel in no time! He love alcohol, any kind, including the rubbing kind!”

Logan walked out the room again but immediately told Wade to “Shut the hell up.”.

“What?! It’s true! You do have buns of steel! And i literally saw you drink that rubbing alcohol-!”

Logan rolled his eyes again, sighing heavily as he grabbed a bottle of alcohol and sat in an armchair, turning on the tv.

You and Wade went over the rent, he mentioned the other resident, some older kind lady, and also explained when the trash comes. He kind of went over his lore and why he called a man a wolverine but it was all hard to follow.

“Wait, he’s an X-Man? Like comic book X-Man?” You said when Wade brought up Logan’s past.

“Oh, yes except it’s real in his universe and many others.. He’s actually the worst one but that’s just between you and me. However, he kinda makes up for it as he’s real good with those claws….” Wade winks but you can only tilt your head.

“God..-“ Logan grumbled as he finished the bottle. “Do you ever stop?”

“Not unless you beg for it.” Wade quickly replied but even quicker added, “No homo. Actually, full homo.”

Logan just stared in annoyance and focused back on the tv, shaking his head.

“Ok, well…why the ketchup and mustard on the flyer?”

“Oh, I just call us that. Cute little pet names.. yeah.. I’ll call him cutie patootie and he’ll call me a dumbass.” Wade sighed like he was reflecting on good times while Logan laughed out once. Wade soon adds, “I’m ketchup cause my suits red and I’m the more popular, more loved “condiment” anddd Logan is mustard because he can be more bitter and not as popular..I mean ask anyone reading this and most people would say they like ketchup more it’s a fact!”

Right after Wade finishes talking Logan throws a book at Wade’s head barking at him to shut up yet again.

“…We have fun here.”

“I see.” You looked around again at the chaos as Wade rubs his head and pouts at Logan. Wade asked if you could help clean this mess up. And any other future messes.. He said you could pay a bit less on rent if you did. You just agreed, having cleaned up worse at the bar.

You knew it was going to take some getting used to but you could make it work. On the bright side, you some what enjoyed Wade’s odd behavior. You wondered however, if Logan liked you but then again that didn’t matter either. You watched as the dog walked up to you, wanting to be picked up.

“Oh, look, it’s like she chose you! Like how beginning Pokémon chose their trainers…or, is it the other way around?”

You laughed as you picked up the dog.

“Well, thanks for letting me stay here.” You began petting the dog on your lap. “Don’t worry about me being here forever, I’m gonna try to save up and maybe give it take in 6 months I’ll be out your….um”

“Hair? Ha! It’s ok sweetheart, no offense. But you don’t have to worry about rushing out, I like you already and I’m sure Wolvie here does too right?”

Logan chugged the last bit of the bottle and just stared at Wade and you, sighing. With Logan’s face unreadable, Wade just laughed and said, “Give him time, most Wolverines start this way but they warm up in a few days at most a couple weeks….”

You just nodded like you understood and relaxed into the couch taking in your surroundings. Wade and Logan started to go back and forth again but you ended up tuning them out. Yup, this is your new life. Was it worth it?

You watched another knife fly in the air, barely missing you.

Maybe.

[petermorwood]

Wow-Wow Sauce

For @redwineand12gaugeshells... :->

In fact that bottled sauce (and nervousnigels) no longer exists, and in any case its principal ingredients of (squints) horseradish and mustard are way off base.

Wow Wow sauce was meant to go with boiled beef, and since a major ingredient was the meat's broth *, it was more like a pan gravy made at the end of cooking, than something intended to go into / come out of a jar in the preserves cupboard.

* 1817 was well before stock / bouillon cubes, however "portable soup" was a Known Thing and could be a possible alternative. The recipe is specific about using fresh broth, but here's how to make portable soup, because You Never Know.

Real Wow Wow sauce had no hyphen, no sulphur, no saltpetre and definitely no grated wahoonie, though some "real" ingredients of the Discworld version - mangoes, figs, asafoetida, anchovy - suggest Terry was taking inspiration from labels in his own kitchen, such as those on HP Sauce, Worcestershire Sauce and Yorkshire Relish.

*****

Dr Kitchiner's "The Cook's Oracle" is available online from Gutenberg (the 1833 American adaptation) as well as a PDF of the 1822 UK Third edition from Internet Archive.

Here's his recipe - whose title, for extra interest, includes the original name for what became "Bully Beef":

The good doctor's "pickled cucumbers" would have been vinegared like cornichons or gherkins, not brined like dill pickles. In addition, pickled walnuts are easier to find than they used to be; even the Tesco supermarket chain carries them...

...as well as mushroom ketchup.

You'd probably still need to make the other herb vinegars and the shallot wine (based on dry sherry), but those are easy, just a matter of steeping the herbs in the liquid for a week or so then straining off and bottling the flavoured fluid.

Another useful ingredient for period cooking is anchovy sauce, which is less, er, emphatic than full-on anchovy essence. You could always scale up if you like the taste.

This also has the advantage of being a pleasant - if you like fishiness - sauce in its own right; try a teaspoonful in a tablespoonful of EV olive oil then tossed with hot pasta. Yum...!

This one's from the same company as the mushroom ketchup and the packing clearly emphasises their "period-ness" (is that a word?) The anchovy sauce is a bit harder to find, but well worth tracking down.

*****

Finally, here's a Youtube short of Wow Wow sauce being made and sampled. It looks entirely acceptable, like a cross between a thin chutney and a thick sauce, and would be, to use Dr Kitchiner's own word, "piquante".

As a side-note, that by-play with tinned corned beef was a bit pointless, since its texture and flavour are both utterly unlike beef that's been slowly, gently boiled (simmered, TBH) with halved onions, carrots, root veggies etc.

Use shin or silverside; the magic tenderiser for those cheap cuts is Time (or a pressure cooker) - though you can also add a sprig or two of Thyme if you want...

[thecynthh]

STARSTURNS - M.S

summery - going out to a concert with one of y/n friends, a weird turn is taken when matt makes a move.

notes - SMUT, ROCKSTAR MATTY POOOOO, guys im a virgin idk how sex works MADE FOR MY GIRLY @ihrtchris love u girl hope the wait was worth it <3 NOT PROOFREAD

a/n - guys it looked longer than it is i promise

also the bolded parts during the concert means its the song lyrics, also i love this song

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

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

the bustling noises of a busy kitchen fill my ears as i hear people shout and flames crackle. “so i think i'll have a sweet tea and a number 6 please.” i ask the waiter as she takes my order. 

“of course ma’am and for you?” cadence’s eyes swept over the whole menu again before speaking. 

“lemonade and a number 2 please!” the waiter nodded towards us and walked off to the kitchen. 

“hey are you busy tonight? i’m free and have nowhere to go, was hoping you knew about a party or something later.” i knew cay would know about any parties happening tonight, she was an epic journalist and worked for the editorial company i was at. 

“hm, come to think of it, no, i don’t think so. didn’t get an invite, i guess all the famous people are taking a break from being bitchy and petty.” i laugh at her statement about the rich and famous, we’ve met countless celebrities and models and almost all of them were like cay said, bitchy and petty. 

“come onnnn the one night i'm free from work and there’s nothing happening.” i drop my head dramatically on the table, careful not to hit the ketchup and mustard. 

“well….” cadence trailed off.

“well what???” i almost break my neck looking up at her. 

“i mean i saw a poster for this band, and they are playing at pacific square if you wanna go watch it, im down if you are.” cadence offered. 

“a concert? im not sure, i mean if the guys are cute” i joked. 

“ouh girl, i sure can tell you they are so hot.” she pulls out her phone looking through her photos. she taps on it and shows it to me. oh shit. they were really hot. 

the one thing that cay forgot to mention was that the band that was playing in our home town was starsturns. “WAIT! you mean starsturns is playing here??”

“okay, im convinced, i think i just found my husband.” i practically threw cay’s phone back to her, feeling a small piece of drool develop on the corner of my mouth looking at the drummer. 

“show starts at 8 i’ll be at your house with the uber.” cay says slipping her phone back into her pocket 

“holy shit i can’t believe we are going to see starsturns!!!” 

the ding of a bell goes off and we see the waiter sway towards us with our plates of food. i guess i have plans tonight. 

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

getting to the venue was a little troubling due to the death inducing trafic we were stuck in but cay is very much a hardass so when we did get to the venue she shoved her way to the front. 

“move your asses, two super fans over here!!!” cay’s enthusiasm scares people which lets us pass through sort of easily. 

being right at the rails that has to be only a metre away from the stage gets me riled up, we hear the curtains draw and and the stage lights get low. 

the sun just started to set and the neon flashes of their large stage lights flicker at the audience. the leader singer and lead guitarist chris looks behind him peering over his shoulder to the audience. the girls yelled and shouted, he was definitely a lady killer. 

chris began strumming his guitar in a steady pace as his brother nick, on the bass, keeps a steady beat emerging from the shadows. 

a slow rhythm on the drums begin to build up, slowly getting faster and with each tap of the snare the lights get brighter, and brighter. 

matt is revealed to the fans in such an epic way as the fans, including me and cadence goes crazy. 

the crash of matt’s cymbals begins their set list as their first song begins. 

time seemed to have lasted forever as they now have moved to a couple of slower songs that are more lyric focused. i throw my head back as i belt the lyrics living in pure harmony. this was my favourite song and i wanted to soak up every moment. 

chris noticed and waved a hand towards cadence and i letting security know to let us onto the stage. i shake cadence to snap her out of her little trance and yank her to the small stairs that lead up the stairs, a smile graces chris’ face as we run up to him. 

cay takes his hand as he spins her around, i stand back trying not to get hit by her long hair. i try to cover my mouth as i giggle a little seeing her have her moment with her favourite group member. i start skipping around the stage still keeping up with the song soon coming up to nick as he keeps his eyes on me as his bass still continues strumming. 

i lock eyes with matt, coming over to the back of his drum kit and wrapping my arms around his neck, 

“i dont wanna lose you now, 

im looking right at the other half of me” 

i sang my heart out as i hug matt while he kept his hand and foot trained on the instrument. he detaches the mic that was for his vocals and passes it to me, im a little shocked by his action but understand what he wants from me. 

i take the mic and start to sing. 

“show me how to fight for now,

and i tell you baby it was easy”

i felt alive. my idols and i sing this song with our hearts. i belt and add accents to my voice and really feel myself in the song. i bring the mic down to matt as we both sing into the mic as chris and matt begin to chant “you are, you are the love of my life” underneath my vocals letting me take the lead on the song. 

“you are my reflection, and all i see is you”

the song ends and i’m panting from using an excessive amount of air for singing and from prancing around. matt and my eyes never leave each other caught up in the moment. 

“give it up to y/n and cadence for singing this song with us!” chris yells into the mic. he holds up his signature rock n’ roll sign showing it to the fans, “thank you guys for coming out here tonight! love you all, have a good night!” with the last echo of his message to the fans the curtains move down and everything but the crowd lights turn off, still providing light for those going home. 

i hop down from matt’s little stage leaving the microphone i’ve been using on a table that was next to matt and meet up with cay at the front of the stage. 

cay was engaged in a conversation with nick and chris, talking to them like they’ve been friends since forever. 

“oh my gosh, thank you for letting us up on stage like that chris!” i knew cay was fangirling underneath her cool calm and collected front. 

don’t get me wrong, chris is very attractive, but simply not my type. i didn’t feel as strongly about him as i did with matt. 

“oh come on you guys are great singers! especially you y/n.” chris says as i walk over, i feel a wave of embarrassment wash over me with that compliment. 

“ah- thank you but it’s getting late, cay call an uber i’ll meet you by the gates in a second, just gotta run to the bathroom. 

i pat my pockets checking for my phone that wasn’t there. i make a quick run to matt checking his whole set up for it. when i pick it up i immediately get caught in someone’s hand. 

matt’s muscular hand grips my bare arm causing all my attention to look up to the man above me. “hey,” his voice is lower so his brothers don’t hear. “we are staying at a hotel tonight then sightseeing tomorrow, we’ll be in town for a night or two. we thought we’d visit our parents and take in the home town scene again before we travel again. was wondering if you wanted to come with me to our hotel.” 

“you can come to my house-“ i blurt out. “m-more privacy and it’s not that far from here or whatever your hotel is. i can get you back there just in time for your brothers to wake up…”

“ah, sounds like a plan, we just gotta take our equipment to our bus then i’ll meet you there, how does twelve sound?” he nods understanding my intentions. 

“uh yeah! sounds good, wait lemme give you my numb-“ 

“oh doll, don’t worry about that, gotta be a little careful with who you leave your phone around,” he winks as his grip on me loosens and falls. 

i almost ran out of the venue, finding cadence and the uber waiting outside on the street. “girl come on!” she waves me in letting the uber driver know where we were going. 

i close the door behind me gripping my hands very hard on my phone. cay rests and hand atop mine and looks at me with concern. “hey, what’s up?” 

“matt just- matt- matt invited me to their hotel.. but now we are meeting at my house at twelve.” my eyes are trained on the headrest in front of me. 

“YOU WHAT, HE- HE WHAT????” cay starts freaking out as much as i would’ve if i hadn’t been in such a state of shock. 

“yuuuup,” the uber slows down getting stopped close to my house. “i have his number in my phone, he said he was going to come when i text him my address.” i open my car door seeing as we’ve stopped right in front of my house. 

“all the details tomorrow morning at work !!” she yells as i exit the car, waving thank you to the driver from outside the car i walk to my house to finally freak out. 

WHAT THE FLYING FUCK was i doing?? no way am i about to have a one night stand with the drummer of sturnstars, one of my favourite bands  

i pull my phone out of my pocket to see a new contact that was put in named “hot drummer” with a new number. 

y/n 

you shared your location with “hot drummer”

hot drummer (matt s)

otw!

not too long after i hear the doorbell ring throughout my house and i quickly rush to my front door. taking a deep breath in and out i push down on the large handle seeing matt on the other side of the door. 

matt leans on the side of my door frame looking as delicious as ever. “hey” a smirk grows on his face as he scans my body. the black cropped long sleeve i was wearing was getting clawed at by my long done up nails. my skirt was barely covering my ass and showed a lot of my legs. 

he looked at me like i was his last meal. he launches himself off the door frame as i take him by the hand, leading him to my bedroom. 

he looks around at the posters on the wall, one including their old tour one. his finger glides across the arctic monkeys and slipknot ones. 

“so you're a fan?” he asks coming to sit next to me. 

“yeah you could say that, i’m not crazy tho, some girls are worse. if i’m being honest i didn’t even know you guys were coming here.” i say truthfully 

“so if i do this,” he leans and kisses me, sparks fly in my stomach. “you’ll be okay with it.” 

“and if this happens,” his hand undoes the clasp and zipper on my mini skirt, “you’ll be okay with it?” 

his lips touch mine as i help him moves my skirt down to the floor as i hold the hem of his shirt pulling to take it off. my long sleeve and bra meet the floor not too far after matt’s shirt. 

he manoeuvres on top of me now pressing his raging hard on top of my heat. “please matt,” i say in a whiny voice, feeling more anxious and excited. 

“please what princess?” he teases. 

“please fuck me,” my hand snakes to the nape of his neck as i pull him in for a kiss. his fingers clad with rings, slip into my panties as he makes cold contact with his thumb onto my clit, my eyes roll back feeling him circle around my hole before plunging in. 

“oh- god matt please don’t stop,” i moan feeling him pump in and out of me. a familiar knot builds and snaps quickly due to the constant stimulation. 

“mhh, come on babe, give it to me” i squeeze around his fingers hard before i cum all over his fingers. “good job baby, you did so well, you ready for me?” i nod frantically as he sticks his fingers into my mouth for me to taste myself, letting me such on his two fingers while he tugs on my panties making the small fabric keeping the whole thing together come unloose. 

he's quick to undo his cargo pants letting the baggy material fall, and he tugs down his boxers letting his length spring out. i 

“what the fuck, that is not going to fit in me?!?” he laughs at my surprise, pumping up and down on his monster dick. 

“hey, i’ll take it slow, tonights ‘bout you.” he says hovering over me, “just tell me if it’s too much, alright?” he lines himself up and just puts the tip in, i arch my back in ecstasy feeling so full already. 

“fuck, matt keep going.” he takes this as an invitation to push all the way in. my moans only become more airy as he gets deeper and deeper. 

he gets more confident in his movement and keeps a steady pace, he lifts my leg, folding it by my knee, letting him hit a new spot. 

“mhhh, matt don’t stop.” his pace is steady with him constantly hitting my g-spot, “i-i-”

i couldn’t even get my sentence out before i completely collapsed underneath his arms, letting myself go. “you did such a good job pretty girl, can i cum in you?” 

“YES, yes matt please!” a slight feeling of overstimulation washes over me as matt grunts and shoots his load into me, falling onto my bed next to me. 

“ah, come on, let's get cleaned up. nick and chris are gonna be wondering where i am.” 

who knew, maybe dating a drummer isn’t that bad. 

taglist - @westwiing13 @comet235 @mayhem-72 @pepsiimaxx @strniolosworld

taglist is open !

[youling-the-ghost]

sfth incorrect quotes pt.9 because the brainrot is getting to me

Luke: Thanks for not telling Tom what happened. AJ, dumbfounded: I wouldn’t even know where to begin trying to explain this. Tom: Anyone down to take couples counseling and see at what point the therapist realizes we barely know each other? Luke: Idiots to lovers, 20k words, angst with a happy ending. AJ: I know what a prism is! It's where you put bad people. (I just realised that I already had this quote in a past post)

AJ: Okay, what does A stand for? Luke: Arson. AJ: Aw, you're so good. Okay! B! What does B stand for? Luke: Barson. Sam: *laughter* AJ: What stands for C? Luke: Commit arson. Sam: Oooo. AJ: D! Luke: Don't come near me, I'm going to commit arson. Sam: *more laughter, slightly more evil this time* Tom: Hey, check out my Spongebob umbrella! *Tom opens his umbrella while indoors* Sam: Tom, that’s bad luck… Tom: Chill out, Sam! Luke, kicking down the door: WHO SUMMONED ME?!?! Tom and Sam: *screams* (Senor Pork-core) Tom: Hey, are you free? Sam: No, I’m expensive. Store Worker: Would a “Tom” please come to the front desk? Tom, arriving at the desk: Hello, is there a problem? Store Worker, pointing to AJ, Sam, and Luke: I believe they belong to you? AJ, Sam, and Luke, simultaneously: We got lost. Tom: I didn’t even bring you guys here with me- Luke: Tom, when’s your birthday? Tom: Why? So you can look up my natal chart? So you can figure out my weaknesses? So you can destroy me? Luke: ...So I know when to wish you a happy birthday. Luke: But also so I can plan your downfall. AJ: So, what is Luke to you? Sam: The reason I wake up every morning. AJ: ...That’s adorable. Luke earlier that morning, barging into Sam′s room, smacking pans together: WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP!!! AJ: *stands in trash can* Sam: AJ, not again! You're not trash, you're at least recycling! (I like to think that AJ just wanted to stand in the trash can) Sam: Big day today, Tom. *holds up two identical flannels* Mustard stain or ketchup stain? Tom: Mustard, looks less like blood. Tom: Yeah, I find it quite emotional. In like a cool way. Sam: Did you just say it makes you cry in a cool way? Luke: *writing a letter* Luke: Dear Santa, I'm writing to let you know I've been naughty...and it was worth it you fat, judgemental bastard. Tom: Damn, the power went out. AJ: Don’t worry, I got this. AJ: *stomps foot* Tom: What-? AJ: *Sketchers light up* Sam: You can’t have a gun on stage! Luke: WRONG! I can have a gun, and I must have a gun, that’s the rule of Chekhov’s Gun: have a gun. And now that it’s been seen, I will have to shoot someone before the end of the play. (Sam's just jealous that he doesn't have a gun) Tom: Oh no! I’m doomed! Sam: Seriously? All you have to do is not insult Luke at his own memorial service. Tom: Exactly! It’s impossible! AJ: Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, that’s fucked up. Like c'mon, you know I’m dumb as hell! Luke: Shouldn't get stressed out, it's not good for the baby. Tom: What baby? Luke, crying a bit: Me. Tom: That's not funny. Luke: I thought it was funny. Tom: You don't count. You started laughing in the middle of a funeral because you started thinking of a meme you saw on Facebook.