#anything with mr ma is a sure bet

[mysteriesmuse]

Pro-Heroes New Years Livestream Q&A Featuring Katsuki Bakugou / Dynamite

The questionnaire host Ms. Nomura flashed a smile and turned her pert nose down into her show notes. Her cheekbones slightly flushed at her little snort in the recording a moment earlier. Nothing like explaining a bet as to why he and half his class spend a day patrolling and fighting in drag heels. The hostess regained herself gracefully, “Well Mr. Bakugou that’s a delightful picture you’ve given us of your heroic and personal fashion choices this past year.”

Katsuki sat with his arms crossed over his chest, albeit patiently, as she gestured to the green screen. Ms. Nomura continued to squint into the back where her corner flashed up lines and questions cards.

“— lets dive into some more fun questions as we continue our Pro-Hero New Years Countdown. Ah, here’s an interesting question we’ve asked your colleagues: Who was your first crush and who was your biggest crush in grade school?” Ms. Nomura placed the paper back down on her desk and grinned expectantly. Katsuki raised his eyebrows in return. “What’s that look for?” Katsuki shrugged, “I dunno’ not sure exactly what answer you’re about to expect from me. It’s not exactly going to be the same stuttered confession as Izuku.” The hostess waved a hand, “Wouldn’t expect a thing like that from you Dynamite,” she leaned forward, “— but come on, surely there must have been some classmate that caught your eye? Don’t tell me you’ve been so dead set on being a hero that you completely missed some crucial development points?”

Katsuki scratched at his left shoulder in thought, “Well I’ve been a hardass since elementary school. Couldn’t have asked me to go do anything else but this hero thing.” It was true. He was just as headstrong as a child, if not more. “To answer truthfully I think I had a crush on one girl,” Katsuki chuckled. Ruby red eyes starring nostalgically off to the side, “although I didn’t know it at the time.” “Too determined to fully process the emotions?” She asked. “You have no idea,” he quipped. “But yeah, think she was the biggest and first crush I had as a lil’ squirt, to answer the question.” At this admonishion she seemed intrigued. Her hands crossed over her pencil skirted knee, “Do go on. Tell us a little about her. What made you like her?”

For what might have been a belated Christmas miracle Katsuki Bakugou continued talking on his own accord. Katsuki let slip a boyish grin as his gaze fell to his combat boots, “—ah well, she was actually in the grade above me back in middle school.” There was a gasp. “An older woman?” “Yeah, a girl older than me. By only about a year though,” he paused to emphasize the point, “anyway me being a younger guy she didn’t notice me much. Didn’t have any classes together or anything. I just saw her around the hallways inbetween classes and in the cafeteria.” “Are you telling us she didn’t notice the likes of you Dynmaite? I mean from what we know you were a pretty good looking middle schooler. If I were a young girl I’d probably have fallen for you.” Katsuki shook his head with a deep rumbling chuckle, “No way. I was a jerk back then. Plus the press doesn’t have the picture of my earlier grades with the braces stuck in my mouth. That’s when I met her.” “I’m sure braces couldn’t be that much of a deterrent,” she added gesturing to him, “but they did pay off.” The corners of Katsuki’s mouth almost instinctually fell back into their usual frown. “—and there goes that lovely smile, folks. She must have been something special to illicit that expression on the explosive hero’s face.”

Katsuki grimaced further, the gums on his canines flashing pink. “Whatever you say,” he growled.

“Anyway, she wasn’t conventionally pretty, but definitely pretty. In a realistic way, if that makes sense. Always had her ma’ help do her hair in these big shiny braids. It was a real pretty braided ponytail and imma be honest, some damn cute pigtails.” He added with an aside. “But what really irked me was she would always wear these socks that weren’t part of the uniform dress. Like these silly brightly colored socks,” he made a gesture like he was pulling up some stockings. “—and I remember all of us in middle school thinking it was so cool, borderline rebellious because she always got away with it.”

He shook his head he could see the title now ‘Dynamite in love with a delinquent?!’ “In fact a friend of mine showed me her Instagram a few months or so back. And you’d guess she never really grew out of it because she’s wearing a nice number with these sheer black tights embroidered with black bows.” Katsuki chuckled shaking his head and crossing his arms over his chest again, “—guess we don’t grow out of certain things.”

Coming from anyone else it might have been an insult, but the way that the sharp edges of Dynamite’s tanned cheekbones flushed in a rosy pink it was a good thing.

The hostess replied, “— I suppose we don’t. Now that leds us to the perfect follow up question segway that we also asked your colleagues. Have you grown out of this crush? Or would you consider reaching out to this person?” The camera zoomed in as Katsuki turned his head aside. His sharp jawbone flexed and his chest tighted before he looked back towards the camera and held up his fingers. “One, I’d say she turned out fine based on what I’ve seen of her on social media. And Two, if I wasn’t worried about being seen as a Instagram stalker I would definitely reach out. I thought she was the coolest girl in the middle school.” He barked out a snort that flashed his mean pearly whites, “I’d definitely give up a shift or two to spend the day catching up over a hypothetical cup of coffee sit to catch up.” The camera immediately zoomed over to the hostess who seemed taken aback, “Wha— how’d you know that I was about to ask you the next question?” Katsuki shrugged, “Heard my friend blubbering about it loudly while I was getting powdered up in the green room.”

He spread his arms open wide in defense, “What? He’s a loud crier. You all know that by now, right? Right?” “—anyway that’s about all the time we have for Dynamite right now. Let’s give a round of applause for our #7 hero and get ready to move on and meet #6 Prohero Shoto!”

[singularattitudeofasafetypin]

The Damsel and the Dungeon Master

Masterlist

Summary: After losing a bet, Eddie makes Reader dress up and play the princess in his newest campaign. Furious, she plots a way to get back at him, but she'll need the help of one of the party! Does Eddie have a traitor in his midst, and does their rivalry hide deeper feelings?

Word Count: 4.3K ish

Warnings: none that I can think of!

A/N: Disclaimer that I've never played Dnd so there's probably a tonne of things I get wrong but oh well! I'm a Brit so anything I get wrong about America, that's why!

I really liked writing this! I hope you guys enjoy reading it!

Please don't copy my work

If someone had asked you that morning what you’d be doing later, you’d never have guessed, ‘Standing in the costume cupboard of Hawkins High Drama Club, watching your worst enemy rifling through its contents like a mad man,’ would be the answer.

It started the way all stupid things did: with a bet.

You’d graduated from Hawkins High two years ago now but when Mrs Williams had called you in a frenzy, begging for help wrangling the new generation of thespians for the school musical, you couldn’t say no. So here you sat, watching the late-night rehearsal fall to pieces, trying to whip it back into shape.

That was until your arch nemesis walked in. Eddie Munson burst through the door like he owned the place and started rooting around the corners of the room. You tried not to pay attention, fixing your eyes on the scene being performed. ‘He’s probably left something from his silly boardgame,’ you thought, huffing that the drama club were still being forced to share their space.

You’d been protesting the arrangement since the club formed in your freshman year, but each time you were met with failure and an infuriatingly smug smile. Hundreds of arguments had to be broken up by your respective cohorts throughout your high school years, the two of you red faced and spitting venomous insults. Still, he refused to budge.

Graduating was supposed to mean you never had to see his arrogant face again. Trust your luck!

‘No! No, come on guys!’ you clapped, stopping the trainwreck of a scene in its tracks, ‘We’ve rehearsed this!’

Busy directing the kids, you didn’t see Eddie freeze at the sound of your voice, turning slowly to follow it. His mouth split into a grin. Once you sat down, he bounded over, ‘Long time, no see!’ he crowed, throwing his arm around you like you were best friends.

He sniggered when you jumped. ‘There’s a reason for that, Munson!’ you shoved his arm off your shoulder, shooting him a look of pure disgust. ‘From the top!’ you snapped at the kids, a little harsher than you’d meant to

He clutched his heart, dropping into the next but one seat and retching as though you’d mortally wounded him, ‘So mean!’ he whined, ‘I thought you liked me!’

‘Shut up!’

‘Come on, I thought you had a flare for the dramatic!’ he teased, getting up in your face, only laughing when you elbowed him sharply between the ribs.

You refused to look at him. Maybe if you just ignored him, he’d disappear?

It didn’t work; it never did!

The rehearsal wore on and Eddie sat next to you the whole time. Everything seemed to be going wrong tonight! You and Mrs Williams were at your wits end and there he was, snickering and whispering to you like it was all a massive joke!

When you sat back down after fixing some blocking, he leant over and murmured, ‘I bet you Katie bungles her solo!’

You scoffed, ‘No way!’ Despite all the setbacks, that was one thing you were comfortable with. Katie had had that song down since week two.

 He shrugged, ‘If you’re so sure then bet on it!’

You hesitated, attention split between your protegees and your enemy. An idea crossed your mind. It wasn’t at all professional, but this could be your chance. Sweet revenge was right at your fingertips. It was too much to resist.

‘Fine!’ you conceded, ‘She doesn’t mess up and you have to find some other place for your stupid club! Give us our room back, permanently!’

Eddie looked surprised, ‘You’re still mad about that?’ He laughed at you, making you hate him even more.

‘Name your terms, Munson!’ you huffed.

His eyes sparkled at that, like you’d just walked right into his trap. ‘If she messes up,’ he said slowly, voice silky smooth, ‘You have to dress up and play the princess for my stupid clubs next campaign!’

‘You can’t be serious!’

He spread his hands, ‘What? You’re chickening out? I thought you were certain!’ he mimicked, waving air quotes.

You weighed the options, but he wasn’t nervous. Manipulating you was easy as breathing! Eventually you took the bait. ‘Deal!’

Stupid! Stupid! Idiot!

Of course, tonight had to be the one time her voice broke. It wavered on a note she’d been practicing for weeks! Months! Your face fell a thousand feet and a mile wide grin stretched Eddie’s mouth.

Cut to you, arms folded, face burning with shame, watching Eddie rummage through the cupboard, trying to find you a costume.

‘I know it’s here somewhere!’ He grunted and groaned then gave a shout of triumph. You cringed as he stood, presenting the crumpled pink monstrosity he’d selected for your torture.

The dress had been used for the ’82 production of Romeo and Juliet but had been bought before your time. Quality, the finest a small-town high school drama department could afford. It was limp, ragged and devoid of structure with scratchy lace around the square neckline. Faux lacing ran down the bodice and the skirt gave the illusion of a mid-renaissance split front.

Eddie threw it over your arm, diving back into the mess. ‘You can’t be serious!’ you grumbled.

‘Deadly!’ he said over his shoulder, ‘And I thought we had…I know it’s here somewhere- ha!’ he straightened, holding a cone shaped hat in matching pink, with tatty gold ribbons hanging pathetically from the point.

‘No!’ you shook your head, ‘Absolutely not!’

‘Come on!’ he wheedled.

‘I’m not wearing the stupid hat, Munson! No way!’

***

‘Welcome valiant adventurers!’ Eddie spread his arms, heralding the party as they entered. Their usual table was set up, lights dimmed and mysterious and candles, which were definitely not allowed in school, flickered on either side of Eddie’s throne. Concealed behind a curtain at Eddie’s instruction, you contemplated your shame. The Hellfire banner leered down, taunting you and your wretched defeat.

‘Disaster had fallen the quaint kingdom of Knaerwood! An evil sorcerer had kidnapped the fair princess, Esmeralda, threatening destruction on her homeland!’

He paused, expectantly. ‘Hey! That’s your cue!’

Rolling your eyes and wishing for death, you stepped out of the shadows. The group stifled gasps at the sight of you, creased pink skirts trailing around your ankles and, yes, ribbons dangling from that ridiculous hat.

‘Oh noblemen! Knights of the realm!’ you cried in a monotone, rolling your eyes, ‘Pray won’t you rescue me from the malevolent clutches of-,’ you squinted at the smudged ink on your hand, ‘Uronin?’

No one knew where to look. The younger members knew of you through Mike’s sister and the older from the countless rows they’d dragged Eddie away from. One thing they all knew without a doubt was you wouldn’t touch D&D with a ten-foot pole.

You folded your arms, glaring at them, daring them to utter a single word. None of them did but Gareth and Dustin had to cover their mouths to hide giggles.

‘I don’t know!’ Gareth managed, ‘She looks like she’d rather kill Uronin herself!’

You shot daggers and he flinched.

‘What say you men?’ Eddie ignored all of you, ‘Will you undertake the quest to save the poor, defenceless princess?’ he made sappy faces at you with each word, making you want to scream with anger. How was this so much worse than you imagined?

‘Well, I for one will never leave a fellow maiden in peril!’ Lucas’s younger sister spoke up. She nodded at you in solidarity, ‘I will take the quest!’ At least she seemed sympathetic to your pain, or was that just her character?

The others promptly took up the task with theatrical pledges of chivalry.

The next two hours were hell. Eddie made you act the helpless princess, shaking his head and giving patronizing direction when he wasn’t satisfied with your performance. ‘Ham it up a bit!’ he instructed, catching your arm, ‘You’re an actress! You should be good at this!’

You wanted to kill him.

When at last the torment ended, you ripped the hat from your head, breathing a sigh of relief. It was over!

Wordlessly, you began to help clear away, nightmare flashes of how you used to find the drama room left on a Monday morning coming back to you. The others filed out and Eddie stuffed his binder under his arm, slinging his bag over his shoulder, ‘See you next week!’ He said with a smile.

Your blood ran cold, ‘What?’

He looked back, a confused frown marred his features, ‘Oh, you… didn’t think this was it?’ Your jaw tightened. ‘They’re nowhere near rescuing you, Esmeralda!’ he simpered.

‘This is gonna be eight weeks at least!’

***

It was torture.

You had to admit, Eddie was a wonderful storyteller. The way he narrated was so animated and unlike anything you’d ever seen. If you didn’t loathe him so much, he could have been an invaluable asset to the drama club. He was so invested in the world he’d created; it was infectious. The party hung onto every word, lapping it up, and Eddie got this mad glint in his eye like he was drunk on the performance.

Unfortunately, that didn’t make the following weeks any less mortifying. Just when you’d think it couldn’t get worse, he’d hand you the script he’d scrawled for the next session, and you’d die a little more.

By week four, you’d had enough. You couldn’t just take this lying down! There had to be something you could do to get back at him!

That night, as you sat listlessly during the session, waiting your turn to embarrass yourself when the perfect revenge plan presented itself. Your eyes flicked to Eddie as though afraid he could hear your thoughts. He didn’t react, in the middle of some spiel about armour classes or something.

Forcing yourself to relax outwardly so he wouldn’t suspect, your mind got to work. You weren’t positive it would work, and you definitely couldn’t accomplish it alone. You needed an ally, one right under Eddie’s nose.

‘Hey, princess!’ he snapped his fingers in front of your face. You jolted out of your head. ‘That was your cue! Let’s go!’

Oh, you were so going to get him back!

***

Lucas Sinclair’s younger sister had a mouth on her. Though she was the youngest of the party and the only one not in high school, she was more than a match for any of them. Including Eddie.

Her poison-soaked kukri wasn’t her only weapon, she was the only one able to go toe to toe in an argument with the dungeon master, and more often than not, she got her own way. You also suspected her to be sympathetic to your plight if your first session was anything to go by. She would often roll her eyes and begin harassing Eddie whenever he grated on you too hard.

It was now or never! You ran to catch her once the session was over, leaving the drama room in a mess and Eddie calling after you.

‘Hey!’ you panted, skidding to a halt when she stopped, ‘Erica, right?’

She raised an eyebrow, ‘Who wants to know?’ Lucas yelled for her to hurry up and she shot a sarcastic remark over her shoulder. ‘What do you want?’ she asked pointedly, looking back to you.

‘I uh-.’

She was like three foot tall! How was this kid so intimidating?

 ‘I need your help!’ you begged, ‘Please, I can’t take much more of this! Munson’s killing me in there! I need your help to get back at him!’

She looked sceptical; her eyes narrowed. You crossed your fingers behind your back. ‘What’s in it for me?’

‘What?’

‘You heard me! What’s in it for Erica?’

You spluttered. Whatever happened to ‘not leaving a fellow maiden in peril?’ ‘Well, what do you want?’

She tilted her head to the side, tapping her jaw, pretending to think for a while. ‘Hmm… Stop trying to take away the drama room!’ she demanded, hand moving to her hip.

That surprised you. You didn’t even think she’d know about that!

‘You should know what it’s like to get pushed away!’ she continued poking a finger at you, ‘You drama kids aren’t exactly in with the popular crowd either! We’re not so different, so stop trying to get rid of us!’

You were taken aback, guilt suddenly flooding in. In all your years of protesting Hellfire, you’d never stopped to think how they might feel about that. You bit the inside of your cheek, hanging your head sheepishly, realising how hypocritical you were.

Theatre was something you loved dearly and wanted to protect from those who didn’t understand or ridiculed it. But at its core, wasn’t theatre about unity? ‘There are no small roles, only small actors!’ That was something you’d been told from day one and was now teaching to the new generation. Everyone in a cast mattered, from the lead to the youngest ensemble member, no matter what! It was a family. And there you’d been, pushing this group away because you deemed them unworthy.

You’d seen the way they played their roles. They loved their characters and the stories so much. All this time you could have been working together. How had it taken six years and a middle-schooler’s words to make you see that?

‘Okay fine, I’m sorry,’ you muttered. ‘Now would you please help me?’

Erica smiled triumphantly, holding out a hand. You shook it.

‘What did you have in mind?’

***

Hellfire became almost bearable after that day.

Watching Eddie poke fun at you, still believing he had the upper hand was exhilarating. His jibes stung less knowing that one of his own had betrayed him. He had no idea the storm that was coming.

The two of you met in secret. You brought back information you’d snatched from glancing at Eddie’s notes when he wasn’t looking, and she began to coach you in the art of Dungeons and Dragons.

It was Gareth you had to thank for the idea. Way back when you began, his suggestion that you wanted to kill the wizard yourself had made you wonder, why not? Why the hell not?

Thankfully, Lucas was too busy with basketball, he didn’t have time to notice you dashing into his sister’s room with wads of paper and notebooks.

Erica helped you fill out your character sheet, careful to pay attention to the notes Eddie had for you already. That way he hadn’t a leg to stand on if he tried to argue. She took you through the endless number of rules, teaching you the names of different monsters and playing one shot campaigns to level you up.

By the time the final session rolled around, Erica was satisfied you were ready.

‘Are you sure?’

Doubt suddenly flooded in. What if it wasn’t enough? You only had one shot at this!

She placed a hand on your shoulder, looking you dead in the eye, ‘Kick his butt, Esmeralda!’

You gave a small smile and she nodded before Eddie entered. You broke apart, trying to look innocent. He couldn’t suspect anything! His eyes flicked between you, focusing, but before he could ask any questions, the rest of the party trooped in, laughing excitedly about the grand finale of the campaign. Oh, if only they knew!

You took your seat, next to Eddie’s, practically vibrating with excitement and anticipation. The party battled through a final horde of monsters; it was almost time.

‘The final orc lets out an ear-piercing roar then drops down… dead!’ Eddie recited, throwing himself back onto his throne to imitate the monster. He leaned forward, ‘The door at the end of the corridor creaks open, revealing the desperate princess. Eddie gave you a nod. Erica barely concealed a smile.

You stood, dramatically clasping your heart. ‘Oh, noble adventurers come to my rescue! How could I ever thank you?’ you really went for it this time. From the corner of your eye, Eddie watching you with a look of awe. Pressing the back of your hand to your forehead you declared, ‘In all the ages of this world, there is no reward that could match your bravery!’

‘But then,’ Eddie cut in throwing his hand out to stop you and kneeling halfway onto the table, ‘a whirling storm of smoke arises!  Out of the shadows, he materialises! The evil lord Uronin!’

The party let out cries of fear and alarm. Eddie cackled, ‘He stands between you and the princess! His staff drawn, it’s light growing brighter by the second!’

Before he could say another word, you slammed a character sheet down on the table. ‘I pull a knife from within my skirts and stab him in the back!’

The room fell silent. Eddie stared at you, sitting back on his heels. His smile faltered. You held his gaze and realisation seemed to dawn on him.

‘No way!’ Gareth exclaimed, open mouthed.

‘You never said she was gonna play!’ Mike interjected.

‘Dude, epic reveal!’ Henderson laughed with delight.

Eddie didn’t say anything. His eyes didn’t move from yours. They were unreadable. In the dim light, they looked like black beetles. They flickered with the reflection of candlelight, as though they too were on fire. You stood your ground, goading him to make his move. Something in his expression changed. He handed you a die, ‘Roll for damage!’ You took it and he caught your wrist. ‘You’re on!’ he breathed.

You’d never been more nervous in your life. Playing for the first time in a group was nerve-wracking enough but these were incredibly experienced competitors. By all accounts, Eddie was the toughest dungeon master there was, and he had no intention of going easy on you.

Erica had your back. She shouted instruction above the ruckus that resulted and you were always careful to follow. Eddie noticed. Realisation hit; an underhanded mutiny had taken place within his own ranks! A scowl creased his brow. He amped up his game.

Wave after wave of monsters attacked. You were pretty sure Eddie was just improvising now. He wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

‘That’s ridiculous!’ you protested, after a particularly cruel ruling.

He shrugged, smug smile plastered across his face, ‘That’s the game sweetheart!’

‘No it’s not! He rolled 18! With his multipliers-!’

‘I get the final say!’ he interrupted, pushing himself out of his seat.

‘You aren’t being fair!’ you shot back, following suit.

‘Tough luck!’

‘If you aren’t going to play properly!’

‘You know what, princess?’

‘What?’

His jaw tightened. You were practically nose to nose, so close you could feel his hot breath on your cheek. Eddie bit his tongue, falling silent. His eyes flitted, almost imperceptibly to your lips as he wet his own and something deeper than fury ignited inside you. Blind rage became floundering confusion. Your breath became shallow. All at once, you were noticing the lines between his brows when he frowned, the way his bottom lip jutted out and quivered just a little, the hard curve of his jaw, the dark intensity of his eyes…

‘If you two lovebirds are done?’ Erica cut in, ‘I search for a way to cave in the passageway!’

Eddie tore away and sat down. You forced those feelings down and tried to focus on the game. He hardly looked at you for the rest of the session. Your head was reeling, trying to make sense of the altercation. A red flush crept its way up your neck; you tried to keep it together.

What had he meant by looking at you like that! What had you meant, thinking all those things? What did any of it mean?

And for the first time, somewhere deep down in your heart, you worried you’d struck a nerve.

***

It was a close call, but the party came through. Eddie recounted the final parts of the story amid cheers of victory. They left their seats, chatting and celebrating for at least another half hour before beginning to head home.

Triumphantly, you threw your princess hat across the room. Eddie smiled to himself but you didn’t see.

You thanked Erica quietly, ‘Worth every second!’ she smirked, ‘Or nearly!’ You felt your cheeks grow warm again, warmer still at the voice behind you.

‘So, you’re the mutinous traitor?’ Eddie came out of nowhere, slouching between you with an arm on either of your shoulders.

‘All I did was stand up to an oppressive regime! And come to the aid of a damsel in distress!’ she retorted, making him laugh. The sound was low in his throat, filled with fondness. You couldn’t help but want to hear it again. He didn’t seem angry that one of his flock had betrayed him, in fact he seemed quite proud.

Erica bid farewells and followed Lucas out to where their mom waited in the car. It was then you realised how quickly the room had emptied.

You and Eddie were alone.

He held out his hand, ‘Well played!’ he said, his tone completely genuine. You shook it awkwardly. It was weird to talk without sarcasm. Maybe you liked it?

‘Thanks.’

‘You completely cheated,’ he added (there it was), ‘but well played!’

‘I did not cheat!’ you jerked your hand away, indignation sparking up again.

‘Did so!’

‘Did not!’

For once Eddie gave in, shaking his head with a smile. ‘What did Sinclair get out of this anyway?’ he asked, turning to start tidying up. What was happening? Eddie never started tidying up first! ‘She never does anything for free!’ he went on, ‘She’s really into this Capitalism thing, try’na knock it out of her!’ He gave another one of those slight laughs making your stomach turn over.

You hesitated, wondering if you should tell the truth. The source of all your rivalry had been her price. Would he lord it over you? Would he be mad you gave it up for her when you’d spent forever refusing him? Either way, it felt scarily close to admitting defeat.

With a heavy breath you muttered, ‘She said I had to stop trying to kick you guys out!’

Eddie stopped, ‘Wait, really?’ He couldn’t believe what he was heard.

You nodded at the floor, biting the inside of your cheek in attempt to stop hot embarrassment from taking hold. ‘She said I ought to know better, you know, with the drama kids not being popular either.’ You let out a breathy chuckle, ‘She said maybe we aren’t so different after all.’

‘What, stubborn?’ Eddie grinned, stepping closer.

You looked up at him, with a tentative smile, ‘Arrogant!’ you offered, raising an eyebrow.

‘Self-centred?’

‘Impulsive,’ you breathed. There you were again. You didn’t know how it happened so fast: faces so close it wouldn’t be hard to lean forward and…

He sensed your uncertainty. A tender smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, growing wider when he saw it mirrored on yours. After all this time, all this arguing, he had to ask himself if this was what it was all for? Maybe all of your quarrels, all of your disagreements had been leading up to this? Maybe at the heart of it all, this was what you really meant by-

‘Sorry I forgot my- woah!’

You jumped apart as Mike burst through the doors and yelped in panic.

‘Wheeler!’ Eddie seethed. The boy was trembling like a leaf.

‘Did I… interrupt… something?’

You held your breath, wincing at the rush of feelings crawling under your skin. Eddie looked fit to burst.

‘Scram!’

He grabbed his hoodie and bucked it, leaving the doors to swing and crash shut behind him. Eddie swore under his breath and went back to clearing the table. You didn’t move for a while, an unfamiliar twinge of regret shot through your heart.

Electricity charged the air, like static before a thunderstorm. Your heart pounded, grappling for understanding. Without thinking, you stepped forward just as Eddie turned around, almost falling into you. Nose to nose again, this time, you closed the gap.

Balling your fists in his shirt and reaching on tiptoe, you kissed him. He froze up. Time stopped and reality took a while to catch up with him. Then his hand found its way into your hair and he relaxed, drinking you in like he was dying of thirst.

A second later, you broke apart. Eddie breathed heavily, trying to replace the air you’d just knocked out of him. He had stars in his eyes, still not able to process what happened. It was like everything suddenly made sense. An unspoken recognition passed between you before he kissed you again. Cupping your cheek, he fumbled to set the miniatures he’d gathered back on the table so he could hold you in both hands. Yours tightened in the fabric of his shirt, pulling him still closer.

Too soon, he broke again but stayed close. Forehead pressed to yours, he laughed quietly, that same low sound that sent butterflies careening through your tummy. When your eyes met, his open mouth stretched to a smile, ‘I knew you liked me!’

‘Don’t push your luck, Munson!’ you mumbled, reaching to kiss him again and again laughing between them.

‘Never!’ he grinned, obliging you, ‘Never! Never! Never!’

You tired yourself out, incessant kissing turned to a breathless embrace. Eddie’s eyes were closed, like if he opened them, it would turn out to all be a dream. A beautiful dream.

‘Hey,’ you murmured, waiting until he met your gaze. You raised an eyebrow, ‘So do I get one of those cool t-shirts now?’

Eddie pressed a kiss to your smile, taking you all in, ‘I don’t know, princess,’ he smirked, ‘I think your outfit’s pretty perfect already!’

You slapped his chest and he laughed, hooking an arm around your waist and pulling you in once more.

***

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Masterlist

[earthtoharlow]

Teach Me Concept: Jayla's Prom! 🥹💕

AN: loved this idea and I could not stop writing so it’s kinda long 🥹🫶

Series Masterlist

“Thank you for doing my makeup, ma” Jayla said as Ariel was finishing up her makeup. Tonight was her senior prom, and it was sure to be a night to remember.

“Anything for my first born.” Ariel said while touching up her lip gloss. Jayla couldn’t help but smile loving how Ariel considered her, her first child despite having the twins.

Jayla’s mind eventually started drifting off, while she was excited for Prom she was nervous. She was going to Prom with the most popular guy in school, Cameron Summers. The two never ran into the same circles at school, but it wasn’t until they were partnered up for their chemistry project that they started talking and became friends.

Their conversation quickly went from chemistry to innocent flirting. At first, Jayla didn’t think much of it until he nervously asked her out to prom, saying he was really starting to like her. Suddenly everything mattered to her and was important. Makeup, outfit, hair etc had to be on point.

She started biting her lip nervously, what if asking her out was some sick joke or bet, like how it plays out in books and movies? What if he really gets to know her, and Cameron decides that he doesn’t find her funny and interesting anymore? What if…

Jayla’s what ifs were cut off by Ariel’s voice. “Okay, what’s going on in that head of yours?”

Jayla raised an eyebrow wondering how she knew she was overthinking.

“Don’t look so shocked, I’ve been part of your life for far too long to not know that you always play with your KY necklace when you’re nervous.”

She immediately dropped the necklace from her hands and placed them in her lap and signed.

“I’m just thinking about Cameron…and this whole night in general.” Jayla said. She just wanted this night to go perfect. “What if Cameron realizes he doesn’t really like me?” Jayla continued.

Putting the makeup down she was holding in her hands on the vanity, Ariel pulled Jayla from her stool and drags her to the mirror in her bedroom.

“First, I just want to say that you look beautiful. Second, I’ve met Cameron when he would come over to work on that project and he had this silly love sick look on his face every time you spoke.”

“Really?” Jayla questioned not sure if she believed her or not

“Yeah, I thought I was going to have to give him a bib just in case he started drooling!” Ariel and Jayla laughed at the thought of that.

“But, seriously you don’t have anything to worry about. You have a pure and kind heart. Cameron would be an idiot to not like you. This is going to be a night to remember, don’t forget to have fun!”

Jayla’s shoulders dropped as she relaxed. Talking to her mom always made her feel better. Turning around she gave Ariel a loving hug, pulling away when she heard the doorbell.

“Ma, please hurry and get the door, you know how dad and Uncle Urb is!” Jayla said wide eyed.

“I got you, I’ll make sure they don’t scare him away!” She said as she quickly left the room.

***

Jack and Urban opened the door and looked at the nervous young teen up and down. Both could definitely tell he was a jock in the school.

“Hello, Mr. Harlow.” The young man squeaked out Jack couldn’t help but smile to himself, happy to know that he intimated the teen.

Cameron stood up straighter and held out his hand for Jack to shake. Jack stood there with his arms crossed, just to make him sweat a bit. Urban did the same, giving the teen a hard stare.

The teen awkwardly put his arm back to his side, and bounced on his toes.

Jack loudly cleared his throat, “What do you like about my daughter?”

“And you better answer correctly.” Urban added

Cameron rubbed the back of his neck nervously as he spoke.”Well, we’ve only been talking for a couple months but Jay…”

He was cut off by Urban, “Her name is Jayla.”

Cameron quickly nodded his head before continuing “Sorry, sir. Jayla is very smart, driven, and passionate. She’s the girl I look forward to talking and hanging out with during lunch and free periods…—“

Jack and Urban looked at each other as Cameron continued to ramble with a spark in his eye. They came with a silent agreement that Cameron was a good kid.

“Hey hey! You can stop with your ramblings. I get it.” Jack said with a playful eye roll and a sigh.”

He reached out his hand for Cameron to shake. He tightened his grip on the teen's hand when he tried to pull away. Cameron winced at the tight grip.

“Just don’t hurt her okay?” Jack said with a big almost evil smile

Just as Cameron was about to reply, Ariel came squeezing past Jack and Urban. “Move it!”

They both stepped back.

“Nice to see you again, Cameron”

“Wait, you’ve met him before?!” Jack said from behind her

“Shut up, Jackman.” Ariel said with a smile, not even bothering to turn around.

She guided Cameron through the house, ignoring the looks from Jack and Urban. “Don’t let them scare you, they’re all bark no bite.”

“HEY!”

“Jayla will be down in just a minute.” Just as she spoke, she saw that sparkle come back to Cameron’s eyes, his mouth wide open this time, she knew Jayla was at the top of the steps.

She looked gorgeous with her curls pinned up, she wore a beautiful teal evening gown that had butterflies all over it. It reminded Jack so much of her butterfly themed birthday party from when she was younger.

Cameron reached his hand out for Jayla to grasp on to as she made it to the bottom of the staircase. “Wow, I don’t know what to say, you look amazing.”

Jayla’s face warmed as he took a step back to take her in. “Thank you, Cam. You look very handsome.” Cameron slid on a matching butterfly corsage on her wrist while Jayla pinned the butterfly boutonnière to his jacket.

They turned back towards the parents when they heard sniffling from behind them. Jack, Ariel and Urban were all cuddled up in a hug watching the teens interact with tears in all their eyes.

Jayla immediately rolled her eyes. “Guys, stop that please.” Before giving Cameron an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, you know I have allergies” Urban spoke first

“Yeah, uh you know I’m always getting something in my bad eye.” Jack added.

Ariel fanned her face to try to get rid of the tears. “C’mon, pose nice for us so we can get some photos.”

Jayla and Cameron smiled as Urban began taking pictures of them together. The photos ended up taking longer because Ariel wanted to take some using her phone. 20 minutes later Jayla was begging them to let her leave.

“Ok, ok I’m done I promise. You two go have fun! Call me if you need anything!” Ariel said as she walked the teens out.

“Cameron, I want her home by 10:30, no later!”

“DAD!”

Ariel hit her husband on the chest. “Ignore him, sweetie! Be home by 1AM!” She said with a wave

“1AM are you crazy?!”

“Shut up, and get in the house Jackman!”

[jungle-angel]

A Family Affair (Calvin Evans x Reader)

Summary: Having Calvin's entire family plus close friends under the roof for Easter is never an easy thing, but it's always well worth it

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy, birth, parenthood etc.

Tagging: @floydsmuse

The church bells pealed as soon as morning services were done. You and Calvin stepped out into the bright morning sunlight, wanting to hang back and share a few words with Father McDowell, but when you heard that the rest of Calvin's family was going to be descending on the house, you two had thought it best to get home quick.

"So remind me again who's coming for dinner?" you chuckled on the way to the car.

"Aunt Marge called this morning and said she and Uncle Lenny were coming," Calvin answered.

You adjusted a squirming Baby Ellen in your arms as she grasped your favorite necklace in her chubby little hand. "So that makes......twenty people for dinner," you squeaked.

"Give or take," Cal said, biting his lip.

That had been perfectly fine by you. Marge had always been good to both you and Calvin and had come by numerous times to help you when Ellen had first been brought home from the hospital. "How much do you wanna bet that Mother Powers will have a tale or two to tell about Mrs. Burns?"

"And if we hear Helen McDowell shouting from across the street, we'll know what happened," he laughed.

Home you headed where Six-Thirty was eagerly awaiting your return on the porch. He practically jumped the front steps and ran to you both, begging for scritches.

"Well, look who's home," Pat greeted cheerfully as you both entered the house. "How'd everything go?"

"As good as it could go Ma," Calvin said, hugging his mother.

"Excellent," Pat remarked. "Your father and I will be going in a few minutes, I just had to put the roast in the oven and have it set for later tonight."

"Patricia!" Henry called from the stairs. "Have you seen my good suit?"

"Your suit's at the cleaners!" she replied.

"Well then what the hell am I supposed to wear to Easter Mass?"

"Wear your damn dress blues that's what they're for!"

Calvin snorted and silenced a laugh that had caught in his throat. "Don't let your father hear that," Patricia warned him.

"I'm not saying anything," Calvin responded.

"Good because I'll be sure to hear about it later," Patricia said as she put the finishing touches on one of the desserts.

You and Calvin set up Ellen's little playpen in the dining room so you could keep an eye on her while Calvin decided to walk Six-Thirty up and down the block a few times. The doorbell rang and who should appear but Marie Bianchi, a close friend of Pat's.

"Good morning dear, Happy Easter," Marie said as she happily greeted you. "I brought a little something for dinner later."

"Marie you didn't have to do this," you told her.

"Oh dahling I insist," Marie said, he Long Island drawl revealing itself. "You and Calvin all have enough on your plates as is, I thought Louie and I would be of some help."

You gasped when you lifted back the tin foil and saw what was inside the casserole pan that had been set on the kitchen counter. "Is that your green bean casserole?"

"None other," Marie answered.

"Marie......."

"I make it every year for Easter and special occasions," she explained. "Secret is never use the frozen stuff, you either get the beans fresh in the produce section or grow it yourself."

The door rang again and this time Henny King had shown up in her purple Easter dress and favorite hat. "That is it!" she announced. "My knuckleheaded grandson has done it now!"

"Oh dear, what'd he do now?" Marie laughed.

"That clueless birdbrain done stole my good jade ring outta my jewelry box because he was plannin on proposin to one of the girls down in front at church this mornin," Henny explained, hanging up her purse and hat on the hooks near the door.

"Oh Henny not again," you laughed.

"Uh-huh and I swore Paul was gonna let him have it that time," Henny answered.

"Didn't you tell him that you were going to leave it to him though dear?" Marie asked.

"When I'm dead Marie, when I'm good and dead," Henny reminded her. "Now what's left for cookin (y/n)? I heard Pat had to run out for a while and where in the hell is Calvin? He oughtta be in here beatin the eggs like they owe you money."

"He went out for a run with Six-Thirty," you told her. "I can handle it."

"Child I know you love him but sometimes you've gotta show'em who the real boss of the house is," Henny joked.

"Oh he knows Henny, don't worry."

"I'm only jokin honey," she said with a wave of her hand. "Now lets get to it before the house gets too crowded."

And the house did get crowded with more family and friends arriving shortly after. Mei Shang and her sister Betty showed up with their grandmother, all three heading into the kitchen to help even though every one of you had insisted that Nainai get off her feet, only to be met with her stubborn remark about how her feet weren't bad and that she was just old. Aunt Marge had already put in appearance along with Rose, Sandy and Joel, with the latter having gone off to find Calvin.

"Alright, it is done and it is PERFECT," Rose declared happily. "Sandy and I were up all night trying to get it done."

"Oh my Lord this is perfect!" Marge exclaimed, adjusting Ellen an little in her arms. "Rose you always spoil us with your cookies."

"I make'em every year when Cal, (Y/n), Pat and Henry come and celebrate Passover with us," Rose said. "Really, it's the least I can do when we come here."

You and the ladies all chattered away as you kept working on the dinner prep and when Calvin, Lee and Joel all came traipsing in through the door with Six-Thirty, you all shooed them away to the living room.

Pat and Henry returned with more family and friends showing up behind them. Before long, your house was full of family and friends who had come from across town to spend Easter Sunday with you. All over the yard, you and Calvin had hidden little egg shaped stones you had gotten at the O'Neil's craft store and painted yourselves for the nieces and nephews to find and collect in their baskets. Plenty of photos were taken while Louie Bianchi had run around with his video camera to capture the memories himself. Calvin's niece, Lucy, and Betty Chin's daughter, Joy, were both excited to show you the eggs they had found, running to you every time they found one.

"Alright you two," Louie Bianchi said to his granddaughter and her best friend. "Big smiles! You're ready for your close ups!"

"Oh Louie leave them alone for God's sake!" Marie told him.

You and Calvin laughed, but you couldn't deny that Lucy looked adorable in her mint green dress and Joy in her little pink and green qipao with the tiny jade frog buttons.

Not since Christmas had the house been this full of joy and laughter, the festive air infectious. When it was finally time for dinner, hardly a seat was empty in the dining room. Calvin stood up and the whole room fell silent with all eyes on him.

"I can't thank you guys enough for all you've done," he said. "You're all like family to us and (y/n) and I wouldn't have it any other way. You were there with us from the beginning and I know you'll all be there until the end. So here's to all of you and the years ahead. May they be just as happy as today is."

Everyone thundered with approval, happy and grateful to be together. But no one could be happier than you and your husband.

"I love you sweetheart," he whispered, kissing the side of your head.

"Love you too Cal," you answered, kissing him back.

[thatwasntverycashmoneyofme]

𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖿𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾

❥𝗌𝗇𝗂𝗉𝗉𝖾𝗍 : 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗂𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗌 𝗌𝗈 𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗆𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖺 𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗋. (𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍 + 𝖽𝖺𝗋𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗁)

{ 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 — 𝖻𝗅𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖼𝗈𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝖾𝗆𝖺𝗅𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋, 𝗆𝖺𝗇𝗂𝗉𝗎𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗈𝗋 𝗈𝗋𝗈𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗎, 𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗀𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗉, 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗌𝗒 𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗈𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗉𝖺𝖽 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍, 𝖾𝖽𝗂𝗍𝖾𝖽. }

"(S/n) what the hell do you mean you're failing your class?!" Your son looked at you like a secret had been let loose. Because it did.

"Pssh mama w-what are you talking about?" You could hear the fear in his voice. "Your school just called me and said that I need to have a parent teacher conference cus you failing their class. What subject?"

"Science but the teacher's off." You hum watching your son fiddle with his fingers. "He's off... so you just fail your classes?" He sighed looking off to the side.

"Alright here's what’s finna go down. I'm taking you to school tomorrow, you are grounded and you better not touch that game."

He tsked. "Cmon mommy!" You raised your finger. "Boy don't play with me. You're going to your grandma's house where you know she don't got Wi-Fi or electronics."

He groaned and you gave him that glare that made him shut up. "And while you're there for the weekend you're studying. Don't play with my mama or she's gonna beat your ass."

He grumbled stepping up the stairs. "And you bet not slam my damn doors!"

・❥・

"Hello I'm (s/n) mother. I heard that he was having some trouble in this class?" You look up a tall pale man with slender golden eyes stood before you.

You examine the man feeling like unsuspecting prey to a disguised predator, you understood why your son thought he was weird, his hair pinned back in one of those safety caps

"Ah yes (s/n) is a very bright boy I just think he's affected by the influence of his friends. They don't seem to pay too much attention to the lessons."

You looked inside the window through the door giving your son a hard glare watching as he puts his head onto the desk.

A hand stroked the corner of your shoulder making you focus your attention to the culprit, you hadn't even noticed when he touched you.

"It's fine Ms. (Y/n), my son used to act the same way in another class... and later today—" He hand went down your arm, gently caressing your elbow, causing you to laugh nervously.

  "—We'll talk about what we can do for his grades. It's fine since we're only into half the second quarter. He has more than enough time to pull up his grade."

"Yeah sure, umm, I'm running late for work but we'll talk more on this later. And it's no trouble to move his seat around if you think it'll help him focus better."

You thanked the man glancing at your child giving a little wave that he reciprocated before taking your leave.

・❥・

"Thanks ma for taking him. Please watch him make sure he's studying and understanding... mmhm ... yea..yea. Thanks ma. Love you bye." You hung up the phone sighing raking your fingers through your twists.

You got started on a small dinner since Mr. O requested to have the conference at your home. His reason being that he has classes all day and paperwork after he didn't want to sit inside the school any longer.

You didn't necessarily have a problem with it, it was just...strange.

・❥・

A knock on the door startled you. "Good evening Mr. O. I made dinner so hope you have an appetite. Are you allergic to anything?"

"I have worked up quite a hunger and I'm not allergic to anything thanks for your concern." A sly smile framing his face, one that you didn't catch, too busy fixing up your plates to notice

You place a plate in front of him, eyeing as he took a bite, his face showing surprise. "I'm sorry it's just...this is amazing." You playfully waved him off.

・❥・

"So is there anyway he could... I don't know get tutoring?" You questioned the male who looked slightly different from earlier, his hair fell against his shoulders, a few strands framing his face.

His eyes held a certain mischief to them. You both are sat on your living room couch, finding comfort in how his hands held yours, too much so where you ignored the boundaries of unprofessionalism.

"I mean of course my dear, tutoring is no big deal and it's not out of the way, but there are some things that perhaps...you can do to help." He makes it sound as if he's asking you.

Pulling back as you looked at him skeptically. He had to reel you in. "I mean that's only if you want him to pass. I would personally take all the chances I could if my son were failing. But it's fine you have your doubts."

You hurry to hush him. "Umm no no that's not wha— I mean I'll do anything." A scheming smirk found his face. You had fell right into his trap.

"Alright my dear. Take off your pants." You looked at him baffled. "I-I'm sorry what??" You stutter. "Your pants. Take them off. Please my dear, I don't have all night."

You slowly pulled your pants off leaving you in a (f/c) lace thong. He spread your legs, putting your feet up on the couch.

Orochimaru sat on his knees leaning close to your clothed pussy taking in a big whiff as his hands held the back of your thighs.

You let out a whimper turning your head, your face hot, the feeling of his nose on your clit through the fabric, and the embarrassment of this situation.

He couldn't help but laugh at the wet spot that stained the center of your panties. "And here I thought you reluctant." You mumble a soft rebuttal that he didn't see the need to regard

"Let me just enjoy my dessert." He slid your panties to the side your arousal coating a perfect glaze over your pussy. He spreads you watching you clench around nothing.

Using his thumb, he smeared your cum on your pussy, tracing your hole, dragging it upwards to circle your clit. He watched you shiver ready to close your legs before you stopped yourself.

"You should be ashamed of yourself; getting this wet." He ridicules. "It's not my fault." You mumbled just before a moan slipped pass your lip as he kissed the sensitive nub. "H-haven't done this in a long time."

He ran his tongue from your hole to your clit sucking it, pulling away to watch your expression as he spat on your pussy. "F-fuck." You moaned, the man watched it dribble down your folds then licking it up.

"Sh-shit shit sir!" You bucked feeling the hot muscle tickle at the entrance of your hole. You moan watching him eat you out, his unnaturally long tongue stroking and brushing around your cunt.

Jolting you cried out, feeling his tongue enter inside of you, he massaged your clit holding you still, his other arm slung over your torso.

Burying his face into your pussy, shaking his head from side to side, smothering himself in between your legs. With all of his ministrations you quivered.

He felt you clamp around his tongue, your hips thrusted into his face. You trembled coming down from your high as Orochimaru pulled away slurping the rest of your juices.

He stood up fixing himself, observing how you twitched, pressing your legs close. He bent forward grabbing your chin staring at your lust filled face.

"That was nice... We'll keep having parent teacher 'conferences' unless you want your son to fail my class." Your eyes widened a fraction, catching the smirk on his face.

"You fu—" He interrupts. "We wouldn't want that happening, would we?" You paused, shocked by the reveal of his true colors. He pats your face the cunning smile burned into your brain as he heads towards the door.

"I'll see you next week for a follow up conference. Have a goodnight Ms. (Y/n)." You hugged your knees hearing the door shut. "What the fuck."

𝗌𝗉𝖺𝗆 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾𝗌, 𝗋𝖾𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌. 𝖣𝖮𝖭𝖳 𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗅, 𝖼𝗈𝗉𝗒 𝗈𝗋 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖾𝗅𝗌𝖾. ©𝖼𝗂𝗍𝗒𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝖺𝗅

[oblivious-aro]

Friends in Strange Places Ch. 5 Intro

What if Vlad was good instead of evil? Link to chapter 1:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/39040329/chapters/97656390

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

"...and then after it's completely emptied, you just untwist, put the cap back on, and you're done. Any questions?" Danny asked.

"Nope." Valerie said. "Seems pretty straightforward."

Valerie looked at the swirling portal.

"So this is where the ghosts come from." she said.

"Yup."

"And it's where you...you know..."

"Became half-ghost?"

"Yeah. Sorry, wasn't sure if that was a sensitive topic."

"Eh, not really." Danny stuck his hand into the portal. "Want to stick your hand in?"

"Uh...you sure that's safe to do?"

"Of course. See?"

Danny pulled his hand out and stuck it back in. Then back out, and in, and out, and in, and out, and-

"Okay, I get it."

Valerie took a deep breath and tentatively stuck her hand into the portal.

"Okay, this is weird. It feels like there's something in between a solid and a gas flowing through my fingers. And there's a weird vibe to it, like some kind of cold energy that feels almost...alive...alright, that's enough."

Valerie pulled her hand back out, shaking a few green wisps off of it.

"Now that was an experience I'm not interested in repeating anytime soon." she said, inspecting her hand.

"Okay, we leave in the morning, so I guess I should give you this."

Danny looked at the thermos in his hand for a few seconds before holding it out to Valerie.

"Don't lose this." he said firmly "It's our only one."

"Got it."

"Seriously."

"Danny," Valerie put a hand on the thermos "I got this. You can trust me."

"Right, yeah." Danny let Valerie take the thermos. "It's just one weekend."

"Exactly." Valerie smiled "You all go and have a good time with Mr Masters. Valerie's got the Amity ghosts all under control." Valerie briefly spun The Thermos on her finger like a basketball before catching it and stowing it away in her backpack.

Danny wasn't feeling as confident as Valerie. Hunting ghosts by yourself could be a lot. Even Danny rarely fought ghosts without Sam and Tucker.

Although, Valerie was getting a lot better. She was very capable, and she'd probably be fine on her own for just one weekend.

Probably.

"Alright." Danny relented. "Oh! One last thing, don't touch anything in this lab."

"Don't worry," Valerie glanced at a bubbling green beaker "I absolutely wasn't going to."

"Sorry you can't come with us." Danny said as he and Valerie started up the basement stairs. "I know Sam and Tucker are going, but Vlad hasn't met you, so it'd be kind of weird if I asked him to invite you too."

"Yup. Never met the guy. I hate meeting strangers on my vacation as much as the next billionaire, ha ha." Valerie cleared her throat. "Probably for the best anyway, someone's gotta keep Amity Park safe from ghosts. You just relax and enjoy your lakeside vacation."

"Yeah, alright." Danny forced a smile. Not that he wasn't going to try to relax, but Valerie had no idea how high the stakes were going to be this weekend.

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

"...and he's got his own vacation home now!" Jack beamed as he zoomed through a yellow light "He only built it in the last decade, so we haven't actually seen it yet, but I bet it'll be great!"

"And it's right on the lakefront, so the view will be spectacular!" Maddie turned in the passenger's seat, her face turning serious "Now kids, Vlad has requested that we don't bring any ghost weapons with us, and we're going to respect his wishes, but I want you all to be careful. The ecto activity is Wisconsin may be lower than Amity, but even if it was zero it's always good to be vigilant."

"That's true!" Jack said. "If you kids see a ghost, just scream and the two of us'll come running!"

The kids all gave each other a look.

"Ooh! This song's a classic! turns it up Madds!"

"You got it Jackie!" Maddie replied, cranking the volume.

The kids averted their eyes as the parents began to 'groove'. It was a horrendous sight for four teenagers, but at least Jack and Maddie were occupied enough for the kids to talk freely.

"Hey Danny," Tucker said "You sure Valerie's gonna be alright on her own for the weekend?"

"I'm sure she'll be fine." Danny smiled reassuringly at Tucker "I left The Thermos with her. Besides, you've seen her fight ghosts, she's been getting a lot better."

"Did you show her how to empty it?" Tucker asked.

"Yup."

"You told not to touch anything in the lab, right?" Jazz's eyes widened in concern.

"Yes Jazz, I told her not to touch anything." Danny rolled his eyes.

"It's not even two full days." Tucker glanced out the back window, despite Amity Park no longer being anywhere in sight "You're right, Danny. She can totally handle herself."

"Hm, you see awfully concerned about Valerie, Tucker." Sam smirked. "Don't worry, your crush can handle herself just fine."

"Oh, lay off Sam!" Tucker glared at her "I do not have a crush on her!"

"Right, because you don't get a thing for literally every girl that talks to you."

"Yeah, well, why don't we talk about your crushes for a change Sam!"

"What?"

"Yeah! You've been making fun of me for forever, now it's your turn! I'm sure you've got some super embarrassing ones we can make fun of!" Tucker smiled evilly.

"Tucker, I don't-"

"Hmm, let's see," Tucker made an exaggerated thinking face.

"Should we intervene or something?" Jazz asked Danny.

"I don't want to be involved in whatever this is." Danny replied, holding a book in front of his face. He failed to notice that it was the RV's maintenance manual, and also upside down.

"You were pretty into the Blood Love books in seventh grade? Maybe you were secretly into Winston MacWolfe or Florence Fanguard? Hmm?" Tucker waggled his eyebrows.

"Okay, first off, never do that with your face again." Sam said "And second, I'm not just some stereotype. Those two would be a terrible boyfriends. Looking back, their relationship with Bethany was so toxic, and they're both literally bloodthirsty monsters. I just liked the battle scenes, and was too young to fully pick up on the misogyny. And also the thinly veiled racism."

"Jeez," Danny turned to Jazz "What happens in those books?"

"Okay, then what is your type? Moody musicians? Old timey poets? Ooh, I know! Since you're not a stereotype, maybe you're a super subversive goth who's into jocks. Sam, do you have a crush on Dash?"

"No Tucker. I do not have a crush on Dash."

"You did kiss him that one time, though."

"Wait, what?" Jazz asked.

"That doesn't count." Sam snapped. "And literally every other thing you said was stupid. I've got way better taste than whatever it is you seem to think of me."

"Okay, what is your taste?"

"Well..." Sam hesitated briefly "I haven't ever actually fallen in love with anyone yet, but-"

"Calm down, Sam. I'm just talking crushes and stuff. You don't have to have figured out who you're going to marry yet."

Sam stared at Tucker for a second before rolling her eyes.

"I've never had a crush or whatever either."

Tucker stopped smirking.

"Oh." Tucker's tone had lost all its joviality. "Oh, jeez. I'm sorry Sam. I didn't mean-"

"Sorry? What are you sorry for?" Sam asked angrily.

"I didn't realize. I wouldn't have made fun of you if I'd know."

"I don't have some kind of disease, Tucker. We're only fourteen, I think it's pretty reasonable that I haven't had any crushes yet."

Tucker, Danny, and Jazz all looked away from Sam awkwardly.

"Ugh!" Sam rolled her eyes. "Why are you all are being so weird about this?"

"You're right, Sam." Jazz said. "It's perfectly normal to have never had a crush at your age."

"See!" Sam threw out her hand towards Jazz.

"Although, I would say that most people have."

"I know most people do," Sam said. "I just think most of them are a waste of time. Like, what was the point in pining over Paulina?" Sam thrust her hand out towards Danny "That didn't go anywhere and I think we both knew it wouldn't."

"I mean," Danny put the manual back where he found it, disappointed that it had failed to keep him from getting involved "Sure, I guess in hindsight, but it was fun at the time."

"Paulina has the personality of a porcupine that likes to bite. How could going to the dance with her have possibly been fun?"

"Because I liked her."

"Why though?"

"I don't know, I guess she was pretty and popular, and going out with someone like her just made me feel really...good about myself, I guess."

Danny rubbed the back of his neck shyly. It was weird saying all of that out loud.

"Hey, lay off Sam." Tucker cut in "Sure, in hindsight, Paulina's probably not the best choice for a long-term girlfriend, I'll give you that, but wouldn't you go out with one of the most popular guy in school if he asked? Not one of the A-Lister jerks, obviously, but, let's say...Yujin Choi?"

"Hanging out all night at school with someone I barely know? Gee, that sounds fun."

"Sounds fun to me. Even if it was just one date, going out with Jin would be a great boost for my confidence. Not that I'd really need it, I already know I'm great, but I'd still take it."

"Wait," Sam said "Do you like Choi?"

"Yeah, I guess."

There was a stunned silence in the back of the RV. Tucker did not seem to be aware that he'd said anything weird.

"I...didn't know you liked guys Tuck." Danny said.

"Huh? Oh, nah, I'm straight. Choi's just one of those guys, you know?"

"One of what guys Tucker?" Jazz asked.

"One of those every-once-in-a-while guy crushes."

"Um, Tucker, straight people typically don't get crushes on people of their gender." Jazz said gently, her eyebrows creasing.

"Eh, maybe it's just a guy thing." Tucker shrugged "You all know me, I like a lot of girls, but every so often there's a guy who's like, dang. Back me up here Danny, you know what I mean."

"Er..." Danny rubbed the back of his neck "Gotta be honest with you Tuck, but I think Jazz is right about this one. It's definitely 100% girls for me."

The comfortable smile slipped from Tucker's face.

"Wait, really?"

"Yup."

"Oh."

A heavy silence fell over the group. It was very uncomfortable, but everyone was too afraid to break it.

Jazz finally cracked about two minutes later.

"Hey, who wants to hear some interesting fun facts about Lake Geneva?" she asked, pulling out a brochure from a compartment beneath her seat.

No one responded.

"Before the American settlers forced them out in the seventeenth century, Geneva Lake was home to members of the Potawatomi tribe, who originally called the lake Kishwauketoe, meaning 'clear water'..."

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

A string of songs from the Fenton parents' era had come on after the first one, much to their delight.

"Ah, that music really bring brings you back, doesn't it Madds?" Jack said.

"It sure does, Jack." Maddie smiled.

Even though it was a commercial break, Maddie left the volume up. She checked over her shoulder. The kids were preoccupied, listening to Jazz talk about the history of Lake Geneva.

She turned to Jack. He looked very excited. Maddie hated to quash that excitement, but she had some concerns she thought it'd be best to voice before they arrived at Vlad's.

"Jack, before we get there, I should probably talk to you about something."

"What's up sweet cheeks?"

"I probably should've mentioned this earlier, but a little while back, Vlad and I had a kind of a talk."

"Is that where he came up with the idea of this trip?" Jack asked.

"Erm, maybe, but it wasn't exactly a very nice talk."

"Oh?"

"I told him how I felt about him avoiding us all the time."

"Oh. How'd he take it?"

"I'm not sure. I kind of stormed off before he could reply and we hadn't spoken again since. Until he invited us up for this weekend, actually."

"Well, he did invite us out here, and he said he'd make sure he'd stick around the whole time, so he's probably not mad at you. I'll bet he actually listened to what you said, and that's why he's doing this. Maybe he'll even explain why he's always avoiding us all this time!"

"Huh, I suppose that makes sense..." Maddie mused. "Might be a little optimistic with that last bit, Dear, but I suppose Vlad wouldn't have invited us down if he was angry. Maybe I really did get through to him."

"That's the spirit Madds!"

Maddie was glad she'd spoken to Jack about her concerns, she was suddenly feeling much better.

"It'll be nice to finally spend some quality time with Vlad. We have so much catching up to do."

"I know Madds. I have so many new inventions to tell him about! Oh, and you brought the kids' baby pictures, right?"

"Yup! The album's in our suitcase."

"Excellent! I know things have been kind of weird between us, but this weekend's gonna be fun! I can just feel it!"

[phantomphangphucker]

Phic Phight - Does Anybody Have A Scrub Daddy™️

For: @catalystofthesoul @lunastarthecat @currentlylurking @buff-borf-bork @zombiemerlin @lexosaurus @higgidigs @what-even-is-sleep @language-of-ghosts @ crazydragonlady

The G.I.W. litterally invited all this chaos. So there is absolutely no sympathy to be spared. Plus, they’re just stupid face bigoted meanies with about as much colour to them as unbaked potatoes

Mr. Lancer looks over the class before nodding to himself, “so as you all know there is a G.I.W. compound just a little way outside of Amity Park”, nodding slightly at the class paying more close attention, “tomorrow, yes I know this is quite last minute, the G.I.W. have extended an invitation for us to tour that very compound”.

Todd jerking up a had, speaking before Lancer even calls on him, “can we bring flamethrowers”.

“Absolutely not”; Lancer throws a bit of a glare at the teen, who rolls his eyes.

“What about a bazooka!?!”.

“A collection of knives?”.

“What about pro-ghost propaganda t-shirts?”.

“Can I bring a blob ghost?”.

“Oh mi god yes! Blob ghost army to their doorstep, girl!”.

Lancer sighs and gestures for the class to be quiet. Daniel having not said anything and just chuckling in the back of the class is honestly more worrying that everyone else. “Quiet down. There will be no weapons, beyond standard ecto-weapons for personal protection”, glaring slightly, “and that does not include bazookas or flamethrowers or knives or bombs. Only pen-blasters, lipstick-blasters, and personal mini shields”, eyeing Daniel, “and Daniel, please try not to destroy anything”.

Daniel smirks, “you know… technically I am certified to wield a bazooka”. Lancer simply sighs.

Lancer truly has no idea why his principal thought this was actually a good idea.

---

Danny laughs to himself as he walks into the classroom the next day. He knows shit is going to be fucking CRAZY crazy. Especially since Wes looked like he had at least eight major recording devices on him, not including his phone. He’d bet money on the teens necklace being a disguised mini camera too. But hey! At least that’ll keep the G.I.W. from being too fucked up due to fear of being recorded!

And Lancer eyeing Wes with a tired look tells Danny that the teacher felt the exact same way as him. Lancer clapping his hands together, “alright everyone! To the bus please! Single file!”. Everyone runs out, decidedly not in single file or in any kind of orderly way. Danny’s not sure why the man still tries to control the chaos, all things considered.

…

By the time they actually get to the compound, everyone on board is getting a little rowdy. At least eleven games of seat surfing have happened, one guy had begun doing some seriously outdated planking, it smelled like someone had lit a joint that Lancer had yet to successfully find, and there was a very heated debate about proper Tamagotchi care while calling Lancer old for knowing what they’re talking about much to the teacher's confusion.

And once the G.I.W. compound was actively in sight, damn near everyone went out of their way to stare meanly or hungrily at random G.I.W. men to just be randomly creepy or scary. Why? Because fuck the G.I.W. that’s why; the whole fucking town actually really hated them pretty much.

Lancer sighing as the bus stops, “please, everyone, behave yourselves”. Emilie lifts up a paint can and laughs meanly, chucking it out the window and immediately causing a code brown. Off to a fucking GREAT start.

Danny’s the last to get off, hands in his pockets, “Lance?”.

“Yes Daniel?”.

“You know this is going to be a right shit show, yeah?”. Lancer sighs, nodding slowly. So Danny pats him on the arm, “you have my pity”, then moving to join his classmates.

The most surprising thing about the first five minutes is that absolutely no one has punched one of the agents yet. What’s also not legitimately surprising is the way Danny can feel the agents all eyeing him. Why? Because the G.I.W. plus last-minute plus him really only equals them having figured his shit.

Should he maybe have skipped out of this? Probably. But he wasn’t a chuckle fuck like that and it’s not like they could end his ass? Sure torture was totally on the table, but who doesn’t get a little dose of torture in their life every now and again these days? So long as whatever happens in the near future doesn’t involve Dash’s underwear, Danny couldn’t be paid to give a flying rats ass about what happens in this shitty little middle of butt fuck nowhere compound.

Lancer eventually noticing the staring, approaching Danny some, “Daniel… is there something going on between the Fenton’s and the G.I.W. again?”. It wouldn’t be the first time after all.

Danny snickers, “eh they’re probably just playing a lets abduct Danny game”.

Lancer looks concerned.

-

Annnnnnnnnnd not even five minutes later Danny winds up getting separated from the group via weird moving floor tiles and being knocked out. Apparently a strange ‘pop the balloons full of powder’ game to teach ghost hunting somehow was really just a way to release an ectoplasm-specific knock-out drug. But of course that kinda went wrong, knocking fuck all everyone out ‘cause fuckin’ everyone and their mother was ecto-contaminated these days. But anyways, Danny winds up getting dragged into some over sterile room… all the while all the live footage Wes had been taken suddenly goes live, due to his unconscious finger no longer holding down a certain little trigger. Queue the G.I.W.s image and name getting tarnished even more for knocking out a goddamn group of teenagers. But also queue a now slightly panicking and very pissed off Jazz Fenton, who was currently hauling ass to rain down wrath on some shitty men in shitty suits. Though she forgoes weapons purely because she knows, and unlike everyone else actually cares, about the fact that the G.I.W. have sensors for literally anything ectoplasmic; including stuff powered by ectoplasm. So she was going to take a page out of her brother's book, and her mother's training, and punch a couple of people in the face.

---

Danny wakes up blearily. Blinking and chuckling faintly, speaking up from the table he’s definitely strapped down on to, “well good morning gentlemen, a lovely fucking day we’re having right?”.

One of the men glares at him, tightening a restraint just to be a dick, talk about a totally dick move right? “Silence, ghost”.

Danny, in fact, does not go into silence, “do I look like I’ve got a glow or whacky ass glow-stick eyes? You been smoking Johnny’s good shit”, Danny waving a finger mockingly from inside the restraint, “you know he gets really pissed about people stealing his shit, right?”.

Annnnnnnnnd he gets a cattle prod to the side. Nice. What is it with people and jabbing him with cattle prods specifically. Valerie did that, his mom that one notable time, Vlad keeps doing it for funsies Danny thinks, and Walker actually has a specialised cattle prod with Phantom’s name branded on it.

Why couldn’t someone spice it up with bear mace or something?

Anyway, some fuck stick rolls out a cart of scalpels, Exacto knives, and other medical thingamajigs and doohickies; and Danny sighs. This shit? Really? Chuckling anyway at the men, “oOoOoOo, now that the sharp silver friends are here can I officially dub this area the stabbin’ cabin?”, beginning a little cheer of: “stabbin’! Cabin! stabbin’! Cabin! stabbin’! Cabin! stabbin’! Cabin! stabbin’! Cabin!“; until one of them gets fed up enough with his shenanigans that they just stab him one in the leg with a knife or some shit. Danny sticking out his tongue at them, “awww are you trying to butter me up with a nice little butter knife”, that earns him another stab, “hey can we at least play rock, paper, Caesar over what gets actually used first?”.

One of the men scowls, “no. This isn’t up to you”.

“Well don’t worry about any medical sensor shit, I promise I’m in stab-le condition”.

They just ignore him and move on to cutting off his shirt. Him muttering, “well this sure as shit ain’t my preferred type of exposure”, blinking, “oh wait! Make sure to take pictures please!”, smirking, “I came pretty and proper for my all my close-ups!”, and winking. They slap a piece of white duct tape on his mouth, him promptly eating it, “now that’s what I call pointless”.

One with a particularly excessively shaved head -like really, the dude had a really fucking ugly head shape and should thus never ever shave almost down to smooth scalp ever again- just gets this party popping n’ hopping by shanking him one right in the sternum. Which is not how you do a fucking dissection, man. Have class why dontcha? “Bro, you're supposed to start happy stabby time higher up, did they not train you for shit? Like the right proper dick weasel you are?”.

Some other guy decidedly starts the actual dissection process. Baldy was a basic bitch that probably didn’t know his scold’s bridles from his bone saws. Danny makes a point to whistle the most annoying song he can think of followed up by whistling a good old fashion Rick Roll. They cut a little more meanly for that, “really cut in deep there, fuck sticks. You know… y'all should start stabbing clocks too, it’s a great way to kill time”.

And then the dick on the right decides to jab him right in the fucking heart with a fucking tazer like an ASSHOLE. Danny forcing down a wince with comedy, “awww that’s touching. Really heartwarming. You’re the ecg to my heart, babe”, blowing a cheeky kiss, “we’re really getting to the heart of the matter, eh?”.

The G.I.W. douche canoe snapping, ”you are, by far, the worst ghost we have ever captured”.

“Oh please do sing my glorious praises more!”, Danny breaking out into song, “🎵You wooo me so! Just look at my heart palpitations go!🎵”. He even manages to keep up the mild tune when one of the fucking asses rips out a solid wad of Danny’s very own intestines. Danny spitting a bit and eyeing the mound on the floor, “wow that is very officially eight metric fuck tons of my exposed steaming innards! Nice!”, looking back to the men, “so how we gonna cook it?”, groaning, “oh wait don’t tell me, you guys are the ‘we like it raw’ kinda cannibals?”.

They ignore him and keep going, peeling away bits of skin and muscle, moving around organs.

…

“You know, US stats say a guy gets stabbed every fifty-four minutes; I think I’m really skewing those rates”, barking out a laugh, “soon it’s gonna be a guy gets stabbed fifty-four times every minute!”.

…

“What? You gonna use knitting needles next? Really start following a pattern?”.

…

“Guys, I promise I’m not a Pikachu, you can’t play poke a man with me”.

…

“You know, I bet y’all’s therapists have all said time heals all wounds, and your responses were to stab them and see how long it would take“.

…

One of the guys stabs something that is definitely not part of Danny’s insides, it sounding vaguely like an over pressurised gas canister being pierced, followed by a loud bang and peanut butter getting absolutely splattered fucking everywhere. The G.I.W. guys screaming about cleanliness breaches, while Danny glances at his entirely popped open and exposed stomach, “huh. I forgot I stored a jar of peanut butter in there. Man that must be so expired”, at the men beginning to scream and the globs of peanut butter beginning to attack the men, “and definitely ecto-contaminated”.

Needless to say, Danny was having a very exposing fun time.

---

Meanwhile, while Danny’s busy torturing his tortures, Jazz gets to the compound at the same time as Lancer, one of the less ecto-contaminated people, wakes up.  Lancer quirking an eyebrow at her, “Jasmine? Why are you here?”. Jazz sighing, “I saw Danny getting abducted over Wes’s stream”.

“He was streaming this?”, Lancer sighs to himself, slouching for a bit before walking after Jazz as she begins moving around the compound, kicking open random doors. Lancer muttering, “never mind. I really need to ban Wesley from carrying any kind of camera”.

What neither of them were aware of, was the fact that there was actually a second stream coming straight from a mini cam Wes slipped into Danny’s back pocket. Danny totally noticed, Danny totally didn’t care, Danny was totally letting Wes take the blame if the G.I.W. tried suing over the footage.

Jazz humming, “that would be an idea but currently I’m glad you haven’t”, kicking in another door and sending the G.I.W. agent on the other side flying into a wall. Her smirking and walking over, “okay you, where is my brother”; even Lancer’s a bit thrown by the threat to her voice.

“As if I would tell some ghost lover”. Jazz punches him in the kidney and then slams the heel of her shoe into his forehead. Turning on the next G.I.W. agent in the room, “where is my brother”.

“You’re probably a ghost too”.

Jazz breaks his fucking jaw, before moving on to the next man.

Lancer stares a bit, officially believing those odd comments he’s heard about Danny beating the Hell out of the school bullies. Size really meant nothing when you knew what you were doing. Jazz steps on the next guys fingers and rams her knee clean into his eye socket; before body slamming him through a wall and moving on to the next man in the next room.

At this point, Lancer’s just following in an attempt to ‘supervise’ the situation and the one teenager just going on a rampage; this was so far above his pay grade.

And at that very moment the wall next to Jazz, who’s currently holding a man up by the collar, gets blown in; bits of rubble and… peanut butter? going flying by their heads.

Lancer whipping some off while men shout about cleanliness breaches. Jazz blinking before decking the man she was holding up in the face, knocking him out easily. Groaning sounding from inside the room the peanut butter came from, followed by thumping, some screaming, someone that sounds suspiciously like Daniel Fenton, “awwww, you look disappointed. What’s the stigmata?”.

Jazz damn near running into the room, shouting, “Danny!”.

Lancer just stands near a bit of destroyed wall, Daniel chuckling while half attached to some kind of experimentation table and having seeming been completely gutted. Lancer can’t help but turn to the side and vomit. While Danny speaks up, “oh uh, hey, some totally unneeded but needed help would totally be appreciated here. This is limiting my range of motion so much that I’m just really not interested in getting e-motional attachment”.

“Danny, oh my god”, Jazz ripping the straps off him.

“Oh hey now, surely these guys just grabbed me up specifically for all the cutting remarks, right?”.

Jazz smacks him one over the head, his skin flaps flapping around and bits of insides dripping out, “Danny this should not be funny to you!”.

“And how many fucks do I give?”.

“I don’t know, Danny”.

“Well I don’t know either, so you want the measurements in imperial or metric? Either way it’s still zero”, and flips her off. She cuffs him over the head for that.

A G.I.W. agent pops out around a corner, grabbing Danny by the wirst, “what are you doing out of containment!”.

“Pfffft. Fuck you, you peon”, and Danny’s arm just… pops off. Sending the G.I.W. agents stumbling over, the bone of the arm smashing him in the face so hard it breaks his nose. Danny blinks, “what the actual fuck actually”, looking to Jazz in shock, “I just delimbed my arm! I AM THE DANNY STARFISH!”. Lancer sighs, “I’m going to check on the other teens. Just, Daniel? Please put yourself back together again?”; he is decidedly not asking. He knows as well as Shakespeare knows drama, that questioning Daniel’s everything was simply not worth it and didn’t actually do anyone any good.

Danny chuckles, watching his poor poor son of a bitch teacher walk off, avoiding bits and bobs of rubble as he goes, Danny shouting after him, “I do not apologise for solidly wrecking shop!”. His teacher just waving over his shoulder at him. Danny turning his silly smile on his sister, “so, did you know that spinal fluid tastes like a mixture of bananas and a nine-volt battery?”, waving her off, “sure with a slight tingle of the ecto, but that one’s all on me”.

“I was worried about, you problem child”.

Danny cackles at that very loudly while Jazz jumps a little, spinning on her heel to punch some APPARENTLY FUCKING SENTIENT PEANUT-BUTTER. The peanut butter makes grabbled sounds of annoyance.

And off in the distance, another explosion rings out. Ahhh it sounds like all the teens have awoken, and now doomsday has finally come.

---

By the time Lancer got back to his students, utter pandemonium had broken out. There were fistfights left and right. One guy was being choked. Someone had seemingly forged a hammer utilising bits of metal torn out from a wall and their lipstick-blaster, they were screaming about ‘indoctrinating others into a good ol’ round of whack-a-mole!’ while chasing a G.I.W. agent. Emilie had an entire katana and was just going to town on anything that looked expensive. Eight people where jumping weirdly and chanting in gibberish around a tied-up G.I.W. agent. And then there was Wes… off in the corner recording with a smirk, he even had a tripod set up; it was probably recording live and streaming with Lancer’s luck.

Oh god the angry parents were probably coming.

One of the agents can be heard shouting, “this was not how this was supposed to go! What is wrong with this town!”. Receiving cackles in return. You know,  Lancer had once wondered why no one thought Amity Park was actually a real place, but of course they didn’t; the sentient peanut butter -there’s more of it?????- really selling the sheer insanity here.

Apparently, the peanut butter has congealed into a hulking goopy mass, with G.I.W. agents and other assorted things stuck in it and struggling to get free. Lancer has never heard peanut butter roar before, and he wishes it had stayed that way. And just then the angry parents arrive on schedule, being stereotypical as everything by currently wielding shed tools and torches, as they break through a few sidewalls.  Lancer’s not surprised to see James’s rumoured to be mob-involved parents at the forefront with hunting knives.

Danny walking up behind the teacher, looking wrapped up like a mummy and still sans an entire arm, “well this is some syphilitic insanity shit right here”. Lancer just sighs, sitting down and putting his head in his hands. Though he does side-eye Jazz, when she walks in dragging an unconscious man, “we found who was responsible for this whole plan”.

Lancer sighs, “good. That’s good”; sounding tired.

Danny giving a cheery, “yup! Now we know who gets to foot the bill! And who’s got enough of an ego to make my organs be or-gones”, gesturing to his rather messy self since the bandages and everything were just done over top of the blood splatter gore, “got a sponge? ‘Cause I could so use a good sponge bath scrub down. Seeing as I am the quirkiest of quirked up white boys goaded with the sauce and I deserve to get this everything hygienically busted down sexual style”.

“Will… you be alright”.

“Indubitably”. Danny then shrieks like a banshee, roundhouse kicks an agent in the face, and goes off whacking them and different things with his unattached arm.

One of the parents laughing at the entire situation, many of the teens having just started infighting for the fuck of it, “well at least the kids are having fun”.

Someone shouting, “hello hello! Oh my my my what have we here!”, is followed by a loud explosion that results in the peanut butter monster just kinda exploding everywhere. Danny snickering from being thrown into the ceiling, “ah I just love sticky situations. A lovely turn of events”.

Everyone can see the culprit of the explosion after a while, Emilie’s father strongman style holding up a questionable gas canister with a knife in it, “THE DRAGONS HEART HAS BEEN SLAIN!”. Far too much laughter followed that statement.

---

The clean up the next day was truly something to behold, and the peanut butter factories were confused for a few weeks by the aggressive amount of their product that was being sold and used in memes. And the Amity news absolutely paid to use Wes’s footage, including the audio taken from Danny’s back pocket which had already gone viral. The town's general consensus was that the Fenton boy apparently had one really disturbed sense of humour.

But the other notable thing that happened shortly after? Why the local Amity Ghost Relief Fund receives an honestly staggering amount of donations, why? Well someone *cough cough* Danny and Tucker *cough cough* had created a subscription-based donation service to supply the great world with weekly footage of Amity Park’s general insanity. Apparently selling the visual embodiment of a crackfic was lucrative business. No one was going to question how the actual fuck the teens got around the G.I.W.s tendency to screen and block footage from Amity getting out into world too heavily though. Maybe Phantom had helped them out to make up for it being him and his kind’s fault that the town had been months away from complete bankruptcy; eh, who were they to question their town hero? And hey, at least the town wasn’t all strapped for cash now? Right? Right.

End.

Prompts: Peanut butter. and Danny Fenton has been kidnapped! Unfortunately for his kidnappers, he finds this hilarious. and The Fenton siblings aren't just formitable with different types of ghost hunting weapons; their black belt of a mother taught them better than that! and Danny goes missing, and it's up to Jazz to find him. and Oh no! Danny has gotten himself captured by either his parents or the Guys in White. Hope nobody brought a scalpel with them hahaha…. unless? and Amity Park holds a fundraiser to try to profit off the ghosts in town, but with no one biting Danny and co. have to figure out how to con investors/tourists into supporting the town. and danny learns he can starfish his limbs. and The school field trip to the Guys in White facility goes wrong. and Mr. Lancer doesn’t get paid enough for this.  and Jazz, but make her terrifying. and Amity Park takes a lot of damage on a regular basis. The city government has disaster funds and the mayor donates some dough out of his pocket, but six months after Danny Phantom and ghost fights appear, the money is about to run dry.

[goatskickin]

The last time we saw the Springs-Eternals, aunt Mercy had moved out of the family home to focus on work and be with her lady love, Cheyenne. Faith and her brother Temperance were typical teens (bratty and beleaguered, respectively), who were also about to start college.

Well, college has arrived! What’s in store for our heir and spare as they move out and become the first Springs-Eternals to attend Brainia U, post-apocalypse?

Brainia U looks a lot different than when founder Hope attended.

Some things have stayed the same, however.

“Aw, man!”

“Temps, come on dude – it’s the college experience. What did you expect?”

“Ugh.”

“I don’t even get my own room?!”

“Sorry! It’s standard for most freshmen. But you’re used to sharing a room, aren’t you?”

“Well, yeah! But I thought that at college, I’d finally get my own space!”

…

“It’s fine. Just got my hopes up I guess.”

…

“Uh, you wanna go see if my dad is done with the kitchen sink? Remy and Seb are supposed to be here at noon after class. They might get freaked out if they see my dad poking around in the kitchen before like, being introduced.”

…

“Hey, uh, Mr. Waters –“

“Man! I wonder if all of the student housing has pipes like this. You know, if you don’t run them in the winter, well, any time it’s cold, they can freeze up!”    

“All set now though! Help an old man clean up this junk, will ya Temps?”

“Sure. You need a hand?”

“Oof! Yes. But don’t get older - I would not recommend it.”

“You got everything Dad?”

“Uh, hi? Hello?”

“Um, hi! I’m Wade! The door was unlocked, student services said it was okay for us to move in early –“

“That’s my dad, and this is Tempe, who will be sharing my room.”

“Tempe? Like ‘temperature’?”

“Oh, uh no…my name is Temperance…people call me Tempe, um…”

“He’s got a sister named Faith! Temperance and Faith! It’s a family name thing.”

“Cool! Nice to meet you.”

“A sister?...Is she hot?”

“Remy! Hey!”

“Sorry, I am Sebastian, and you are welcome to call me ‘Seb’ for short. This jerk is my twin brother, Remington.”

*yawn* “Remy is fine.”

“Oh! Wade is also a twin! No more sharing a room with Bettina though!”

“Dad!”

“Well! I’ll let you boys settle in! I’m going to go check on your ma and the girls! Be back soon!”

“So…where are you guys from?”

“Pleasantview.”

…

“Cool.”

“So. This has been thrilling. Um…I gotta pee.”

“Ignore him.”

“You guys wanna get some food?”

“Sure!”

“Okay!”

~~~

         “This is bullshit.”

“Faith…”

“I don’t wanna talk to her! She pissed me off!”

“Faith…she’s well past 40…I am surprised she didn’t move out sooner. If you would -“

“She didn’t even say goodbye! And she took the car. I was going to learn how to drive in that car!”

…

“Then you are welcome to tell her off if you feel like that will make you feel better. But, giving people a piece of your mind doesn’t work out every single -“

“Oh, she’s gonna hear what I have to say!”

     “FAITH! Isn’t this cool!? I’ve never flown before!”

“You know I can’t hear a damn word you are saying!!!”

“Hey Genesis! Looks like you got here in one piece! Proud day for us, eh?”

“Very proud. Thank you.”

….

“Where is Wade? Is Tristan with him? I want to make sure that Temperance -”       

“Oh yes! He’s helping Wade and Temperance get settled in.”

“I’ll bet you Wade’s already got a poster of a car tacked up, ha!”

…

“Hello Faith! How are you?”

“Hey Mrs. Waters….”

“Hey Faith –“

“- dibs on the bigger bedroom!”

“WHAT! Yeah fuckin’ right! That bigger bedroom is mine!”

...

“Hey, I’m going to go make sure they’re okay, see that the water is running.”

“Oh! The water system was of utmost importance for student housing. We were not able to have electricity working for anything more than the provided personal computer for each house, but the water should be potable and running.

The furnishings were another matter, really outside the realm of what us educators could expend funds on, but considering what was available, but I am sure that Bettina would appreciate -“

“Oh goodness, I’m teasing! As long as they have running water and a place to sleep I’m sure the kids will be fine. It’s…scrappy, you know? Shabby chic?”

...

“I’m sorry that I-“

“I really need to ask-“

…    

...

“You can go first.”

…

“I am sorry I left without saying anything. I just…really needed to go, and I was feeling guilty…I felt like I couldn’t face everyone to stay goodbye. Work has been…well, it’s been a lot!”

“It’s pretty amazing living with Cheyenne though. It’s actually quiet! That took me a long time to get used to.”

“I miss you guys of course, I am not saying that, but it’s great to be out on my own. Plus, after that break in at the radio station…I feel much better just being there for Cheyenne, you know?”

“Gen, don’t give me the silent treatment here! There’s –“

…

“Mercy, I think it’s wonderful that you moved out to be with Cheyenne. But I need your help. Please.”

“Okay? You need my help? What’s wrong? Something with Justice?”

“No, not Justice…me. I need your help. But I don’t know if you will agree to it. Just hear me out.”

“Gen, hey, are you in trouble? Something with work? Is everything okay?”

“Mercy, HCU-70 is here. I know it. I have to find him. You have to let me stay here. I am not getting back on that helicopter.”

“…what?!”

“He’s here. You know my helmet, his gift, the Thinking Cap? There are coordinates in it. 37.2431° N, 115.7930° W - that puts him right in Brainia U!

…

He’s here! I can feel it.”

“I have to try, I have to find him!”

…

“Gen….you know how crazy that sounds…right?”

“Please! Leave me here! I know he’s here! I have to try! We had so little time together when we met…”

“Gen! Listen! I hear you…but what you’re saying – just because a gift HCU-70 gave you has coordinates inside of it… I can’t just leave you - “

“But you can!”

“Genesis, if I…if the militia leaves you at Brainia U, no one can come get you, not even an emergency. We don’t have the funds to fuel the chopper for just one person.”

“We are the only way out of Brainia U. No one can come for you. Please, think about this. You would be stuck here, no shelter and no food, for at least a year- at least until next year’s freshmen are enrolled.”

…

“Genesis. Please. Do you understand what I am saying? I am the General of the militia. This will fall on me if they know that I let you do this. Do you understand me? I could be in a lot of trouble.”

…

“Mercy, I know. I know it’s a huge risk for you. But I need to do this.”

“I can’t just leave you here because you have a hunch!”

“I have evidence!”

“You have only circumstantial evidence!”

“Mercy…did you ever meet someone, where…you feel like you can finally take a deep breath? Be yourself?”

“Yeah.”

“Please. I have good reason to try and do this. I know the risks. I’m a survivor – I know this campus. Getting around and staying safe won’t be an issue for me.”

…

“What about your job?”

“I’m the Minister of Education! I’ll – I’ll say I am doing on-campus research…”

…

“I have to find him. I have to find out more. I feel like…I need to do this. Communicate with an alien race, at length, and truly understand them? I need to spend time with him and learn all that I can. I felt cheated before -“

“Oh, I am so sorry about that Gen, but look, at the time-“

“No, I understand completely why it had to happen. But things are different now. I know he’s here, and I’m going to find him, and I’m going to make up for lost time.”

“Please.”

 …

“Genesis, you are my friend. I just want what is best for you, and I want you to be safe.”

“We’re friends?”

 “Yeah. I think so? I don’t have a lot of friends. But I think so.”

…

“What do I tell Justice? The kids?”

“The truth?”

[sunnys567]

Friends in Strange Places Ch. 5 Intro

What if Vlad was good instead of evil? Link to chapter 1:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/39040329/chapters/97656390

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

"...and then after it's completely emptied, you just untwist, put the cap back on, and you're done. Any questions?" Danny asked.

"Nope." Valerie said. "Seems pretty straightforward."

Valerie looked at the swirling portal.

"So this is where the ghosts come from." she said.

"Yup."

"And it's where you...you know..."

"Became half-ghost?"

"Yeah. Sorry, wasn't sure if that was a sensitive topic."

"Eh, not really." Danny stuck his hand into the portal. "Want to stick your hand in?"

"Uh...you sure that's safe to do?"

"Of course. See?"

Danny pulled his hand out and stuck it back in. Then back out, and in, and out, and in, and out, and-

"Okay, I get it."

Valerie took a deep breath and tentatively stuck her hand into the portal.

"Okay, this is weird. It feels like there's something in between a solid and a gas flowing through my fingers. And there's a weird vibe to it, like some kind of cold energy that feels almost...alive...alright, that's enough."

Valerie pulled her hand back out, shaking a few green wisps off of it.

"Now that was an experience I'm not interested in repeating anytime soon." she said, inspecting her hand.

"Okay, we leave in the morning, so I guess I should give you this."

Danny looked at the thermos in his hand for a few seconds before holding it out to Valerie.

"Don't lose this." he said firmly "It's our only one."

"Got it."

"Seriously."

"Danny," Valerie put a hand on the thermos "I got this. You can trust me."

"Right, yeah." Danny let Valerie take the thermos. "It's just one weekend."

"Exactly." Valerie smiled "You all go and have a good time with Mr Masters. Valerie's got the Amity ghosts all under control." Valerie briefly spun The Thermos on her finger like a basketball before catching it and stowing it away in her backpack.

Danny wasn't feeling as confident as Valerie. Hunting ghosts by yourself could be a lot. Even Danny rarely fought ghosts without Sam and Tucker.

Although, Valerie was getting a lot better. She was very capable, and she'd probably be fine on her own for just one weekend.

Probably.

"Alright." Danny relented. "Oh! One last thing, don't touch anything in this lab."

"Don't worry," Valerie glanced at a bubbling green beaker "I absolutely wasn't going to."

"Sorry you can't come with us." Danny said as he and Valerie started up the basement stairs. "I know Sam and Tucker are going, but Vlad hasn't met you, so it'd be kind of weird if I asked him to invite you too."

"Yup. Never met the guy. I hate meeting strangers on my vacation as much as the next billionaire, ha ha." Valerie cleared her throat. "Probably for the best anyway, someone's gotta keep Amity Park safe from ghosts. You just relax and enjoy your lakeside vacation."

"Yeah, alright." Danny forced a smile. Not that he wasn't going to try to relax, but Valerie had no idea how high the stakes were going to be this weekend.

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

"...and he's got his own vacation home now!" Jack beamed as he zoomed through a yellow light "He only built it in the last decade, so we haven't actually seen it yet, but I bet it'll be great!"

"And it's right on the lakefront, so the view will be spectacular!" Maddie turned in the passenger's seat, her face turning serious "Now kids, Vlad has requested that we don't bring any ghost weapons with us, and we're going to respect his wishes, but I want you all to be careful. The ecto activity is Wisconsin may be lower than Amity, but even if it was zero it's always good to be vigilant."

"That's true!" Jack said. "If you kids see a ghost, just scream and the two of us'll come running!"

The kids all gave each other a look.

"Ooh! This song's a classic! turns it up Madds!"

"You got it Jackie!" Maddie replied, cranking the volume.

The kids averted their eyes as the parents began to 'groove'. It was a horrendous sight for four teenagers, but at least Jack and Maddie were occupied enough for the kids to talk freely.

"Hey Danny," Tucker said "You sure Valerie's gonna be alright on her own for the weekend?"

"I'm sure she'll be fine." Danny smiled reassuringly at Tucker "I left The Thermos with her. Besides, you've seen her fight ghosts, she's been getting a lot better."

"Did you show her how to empty it?" Tucker asked.

"Yup."

"You told not to touch anything in the lab, right?" Jazz's eyes widened in concern.

"Yes Jazz, I told her not to touch anything." Danny rolled his eyes.

"It's not even two full days." Tucker glanced out the back window, despite Amity Park no longer being anywhere in sight "You're right, Danny. She can totally handle herself."

"Hm, you see awfully concerned about Valerie, Tucker." Sam smirked. "Don't worry, your crush can handle herself just fine."

"Oh, lay off Sam!" Tucker glared at her "I do not have a crush on her!"

"Right, because you don't get a thing for literally every girl that talks to you."

"Yeah, well, why don't we talk about your crushes for a change Sam!"

"What?"

"Yeah! You've been making fun of me for forever, now it's your turn! I'm sure you've got some super embarrassing ones we can make fun of!" Tucker smiled evilly.

"Tucker, I don't-"

"Hmm, let's see," Tucker made an exaggerated thinking face.

"Should we intervene or something?" Jazz asked Danny.

"I don't want to be involved in whatever this is." Danny replied, holding a book in front of his face. He failed to notice that it was the RV's maintenance manual, and also upside down.

"You were pretty into the Blood Love books in seventh grade? Maybe you were secretly into Winston MacWolfe or Florence Fanguard? Hmm?" Tucker waggled his eyebrows.

"Okay, first off, never do that with your face again." Sam said "And second, I'm not just some stereotype. Those two would be a terrible boyfriends. Looking back, their relationship with Bethany was so toxic, and they're both literally bloodthirsty monsters. I just liked the battle scenes, and was too young to fully pick up on the misogyny. And also the thinly veiled racism."

"Jeez," Danny turned to Jazz "What happens in those books?"

"Okay, then what is your type? Moody musicians? Old timey poets? Ooh, I know! Since you're not a stereotype, maybe you're a super subversive goth who's into jocks. Sam, do you have a crush on Dash?"

"No Tucker. I do not have a crush on Dash."

"You did kiss him that one time, though."

"Wait, what?" Jazz asked.

"That doesn't count." Sam snapped. "And literally every other thing you said was stupid. I've got way better taste than whatever it is you seem to think of me."

"Okay, what is your taste?"

"Well..." Sam hesitated briefly "I haven't ever actually fallen in love with anyone yet, but-"

"Calm down, Sam. I'm just talking crushes and stuff. You don't have to have figured out who you're going to marry yet."

Sam stared at Tucker for a second before rolling her eyes.

"I've never had a crush or whatever either."

Tucker stopped smirking.

"Oh." Tucker's tone had lost all its joviality. "Oh, jeez. I'm sorry Sam. I didn't mean-"

"Sorry? What are you sorry for?" Sam asked angrily.

"I didn't realize. I wouldn't have made fun of you if I'd know."

"I don't have some kind of disease, Tucker. We're only fourteen, I think it's pretty reasonable that I haven't had any crushes yet."

Tucker, Danny, and Jazz all looked away from Sam awkwardly.

"Ugh!" Sam rolled her eyes. "Why are you all are being so weird about this?"

"You're right, Sam." Jazz said. "It's perfectly normal to have never had a crush at your age."

"See!" Sam threw out her hand towards Jazz.

"Although, I would say that most people have."

"I know most people do," Sam said. "I just think most of them are a waste of time. Like, what was the point in pining over Paulina?" Sam thrust her hand out towards Danny "That didn't go anywhere and I think we both knew it wouldn't."

"I mean," Danny put the manual back where he found it, disappointed that it had failed to keep him from getting involved "Sure, I guess in hindsight, but it was fun at the time."

"Paulina has the personality of a porcupine that likes to bite. How could going to the dance with her have possibly been fun?"

"Because I liked her."

"Why though?"

"I don't know, I guess she was pretty and popular, and going out with someone like her just made me feel really...good about myself, I guess."

Danny rubbed the back of his neck shyly. It was weird saying all of that out loud.

"Hey, lay off Sam." Tucker cut in "Sure, in hindsight, Paulina's probably not the best choice for a long-term girlfriend, I'll give you that, but wouldn't you go out with one of the most popular guy in school if he asked? Not one of the A-Lister jerks, obviously, but, let's say...Yujin Choi?"

"Hanging out all night at school with someone I barely know? Gee, that sounds fun."

"Sounds fun to me. Even if it was just one date, going out with Jin would be a great boost for my confidence. Not that I'd really need it, I already know I'm great, but I'd still take it."

"Wait," Sam said "Do you like Choi?"

"Yeah, I guess."

There was a stunned silence in the back of the RV. Tucker did not seem to be aware that he'd said anything weird.

"I...didn't know you liked guys Tuck." Danny said.

"Huh? Oh, nah, I'm straight. Choi's just one of those guys, you know?"

"One of what guys Tucker?" Jazz asked.

"One of those every-once-in-a-while guy crushes."

"Um, Tucker, straight people typically don't get crushes on people of their gender." Jazz said gently, her eyebrows creasing.

"Eh, maybe it's just a guy thing." Tucker shrugged "You all know me, I like a lot of girls, but every so often there's a guy who's like, dang. Back me up here Danny, you know what I mean."

"Er..." Danny rubbed the back of his neck "Gotta be honest with you Tuck, but I think Jazz is right about this one. It's definitely 100% girls for me."

The comfortable smile slipped from Tucker's face.

"Wait, really?"

"Yup."

"Oh."

A heavy silence fell over the group. It was very uncomfortable, but everyone was too afraid to break it.

Jazz finally cracked about two minutes later.

"Hey, who wants to hear some interesting fun facts about Lake Geneva?" she asked, pulling out a brochure from a compartment beneath her seat.

No one responded.

"Before the American settlers forced them out in the seventeenth century, Geneva Lake was home to members of the Potawatomi tribe, who originally called the lake Kishwauketoe, meaning 'clear water'..."

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

A string of songs from the Fenton parents' era had come on after the first one, much to their delight.

"Ah, that music really bring brings you back, doesn't it Madds?" Jack said.

"It sure does, Jack." Maddie smiled.

Even though it was a commercial break, Maddie left the volume up. She checked over her shoulder. The kids were preoccupied, listening to Jazz talk about the history of Lake Geneva.

She turned to Jack. He looked very excited. Maddie hated to quash that excitement, but she had some concerns she thought it'd be best to voice before they arrived at Vlad's.

"Jack, before we get there, I should probably talk to you about something."

"What's up sweet cheeks?"

"I probably should've mentioned this earlier, but a little while back, Vlad and I had a kind of a talk."

"Is that where he came up with the idea of this trip?" Jack asked.

"Erm, maybe, but it wasn't exactly a very nice talk."

"Oh?"

"I told him how I felt about him avoiding us all the time."

"Oh. How'd he take it?"

"I'm not sure. I kind of stormed off before he could reply and we hadn't spoken again since. Until he invited us up for this weekend, actually."

"Well, he did invite us out here, and he said he'd make sure he'd stick around the whole time, so he's probably not mad at you. I'll bet he actually listened to what you said, and that's why he's doing this. Maybe he'll even explain why he's always avoiding us all this time!"

"Huh, I suppose that makes sense..." Maddie mused. "Might be a little optimistic with that last bit, Dear, but I suppose Vlad wouldn't have invited us down if he was angry. Maybe I really did get through to him."

"That's the spirit Madds!"

Maddie was glad she'd spoken to Jack about her concerns, she was suddenly feeling much better.

"It'll be nice to finally spend some quality time with Vlad. We have so much catching up to do."

"I know Madds. I have so many new inventions to tell him about! Oh, and you brought the kids' baby pictures, right?"

"Yup! The album's in our suitcase."

"Excellent! I know things have been kind of weird between us, but this weekend's gonna be fun! I can just feel it!"

[darling-i-read-it]

Drunk

Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: vomit, alcohol, drunkenness

Author’s Note: I think …he is the cowboy of my dreams and I love him

Summary: You go get Arthur from the Saloon

Genre: fluff

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

Mary-Beth fixed her shawl and smiled up at you pleasantly.

“Thank you very much Mrs Morgan.”

“Anything for you Miss Gaskill.” You had just helped her with her dress, also returning some valuables that had been taken from her while she was up at town.

“You know, I could be a cowboy,” she said. “Like you and the men.” You smiled gracefully, shrugging.

“You could be! Just gotta get rid of those awful dresses.”

“Hey I like these here dresses. They fit my figure nicely. You look awful in those pants. And you’re wearing Arthur’s shirt.” She shook her head disapprovingly.

“Arthur’s shirts are comfortable.” “Only because you wash them regularly. Can’t say that for most of the fellas around here. He’s more than lucky to have you.”

“Oh I’m lucky to have the doof too.” You tipped your hat at her and turned around to the rest of the camp. You would likely be off when Arthur returned from…wherever he was. You were willing to bet he was in town helping some poor soul out. You walked over to your horse, wondering if perhaps you should get some rest before he returned when there was a voice coming from behind you.

“Y/N!” You whipped your head around, meeting the eye of Dutch. “Can I trouble you for a favor?” “Always Dutch.” You leaned against the hitching posts.

“I don’t feel like asking anyone else,” he said, sighing heavily. He cleared his throat. “Your husband is in town, has been for a couple days now. I hear he’s gone on a pretty heavy bender.”

“You don’t even have to ask,” you said, shaking your head. “I didn’t know he was in town otherwise I would’ve gotten him earlier.”

“I imagined you would say that. Would you like anyone's help dragging him back to camp?”

“No, I think I can handle one drunk bastard for the day,” you said, grabbing the reins to your horse. You rubbed the side of her before jumping up onto her back. “Thanks for letting me know Dutch.”

“Anytime.”

-

Your ride out to Valentine was leisurely. If Arthur had been causing chaos for a few days already then he could handle a few more minutes. You approached the saloon slowly, leaving your horse out front.

You could hear the voice of your husband already. You let out a long sigh, opening up the doors.

“I think you-” He cursed under his breath and looked back up at the man who was speaking. “-should quit talkin to me!” You giggled to yourself, looping your fingers along your belt. Arthur was leaning against the staircase, stumbling back and forth while he spoke to the equally drunken man in front of him. “Don’t fuckin look at me that way!”

You decided then to step in before a fight broke out. You stepped forward and put your hand on Arthur’s shoulder.

“Hey!” he slurred and turned around. “Woah…you look like ma wife!” You laughed gently and nodded.

“Arthur, it's me. Your wife.”

“My wife is at camp,” he told you pointedly.

“I’m right here.” “Am I at camp?”

“No. We’re in the Saloon. It’s time to go back home.” He had completely forgotten about the man beside him and it seemed the man had forgotten about him as well. You grabbed his arm so he could use you as a crutch.

“My wife is so pretty,” he whispered, words slurring together. “I love ‘er.”

“I love you too Arthur. Come on now.” You turned to the bartender and tossed him a dollar. “Thanks for not letting him die.” He gave you a sluate as you led him outside. You grabbed the reins of his horse and yours, helping him get up on your horse. You got up behind him, letting him slump back onto your shoulder.

“Darlin?” he asked as you started to ride. You moved Arthur’s horse as well so it galloped slowly beside you.

“Yes Arthur?”

“Just makin sure you’re still there,” he whispered groggily.

“Do you remember what you did tonight?”

“Nah,” he grumbled. “Got some fights.”

“Oh?”

“Won.” “Good for you.”

He was silent while you rode back and by the time you returned he was practically deadweight.

“Who’s there?!” Bill yelled as you approached the camp.

“The Morgans!” you called.

“Both of ya?”

“Yeah,” Arthur said to you sleepily. You would have waved had you not been holding Arthur up with your entire strength. The horses came to a slow stop. You slid off the horse carefully before helping Arthur down. He nearly fell over but you caught him by the stomach.

“He cause much trouble?” Dutch asked from his tent.

“Always,” you responded. You helped him lay down at your shared wagon where he quickly drifted off to sleep. You took off his hat and shrugged off his coat before leaving him alone. You walked and grabbed a cup of water alone with an empty bucket no one was using. You set it beside his bed and kissed his forehead.

-

Arthur woke up with a start. His stomach was churning and his head was pounding. He looked around. The sun was high in the sky. Everyone around him was awake. He was at camp. Had he rode back to camp? He could see his horse with the others. Before he could think of much else he felt his stomach lurch. He turned to his side where there was already a bucket waiting for him. He picked it up and stuck his hand in it.

“He’s awake,” your voice came. He was so pleased to hear it that it made him instantly feel better. Maybe that was also getting the vomit out of his system. You sat down at the edge of the makeshift bed and picked up the water cup. When his head came out of the bucket you handed it to him and brushed his hair back.

“What happened?” he asked after chugging. “How’d I get here?”

“How do you think?” He chuckled.

“You can’t always take care of me, woman.”

“I sure can try.”

“I would kiss ya but…” he gestured to his mouth and you nodded, laughing.

“I’ll wait for you to get cleaned up. I paid your tab back in Valentine but if you’re gonna get drunk at least let me come next time.” He nodded once.

“Sorry darlin. I’ll remember.”

“I sure hope so.”

[provisionalsparkle]

The Boy Next Door

Reader x Bang Chan (Stray Kids)

[Genre] exes-to-lovers au, smut, angst.

[Word count] 6.7K

[Warnings] Smut. Angst. Unprotected sex, voyeurism, ample description of bodily fluids.

[Note] This is my contribution to @feliix ’s Summer 2 Lovers collab! Check it out!

Summer.

The season of fun and sun, careless joy, long days and warm nights…

For most people.

For you, this summer is about change. It’s about the little town you used to live in, the quaint house you grew up in, the smell of your mother’s cooking or the breeze from the yard, the sound of younger kids playing in the street. It’s about the big city you will go to live in, it’s purple and orange twilight skies, black silhouettes reaching toward the skies beginning to twinkle with golden lights, the noises of the traffic coming from evening bustle, the scent of the delis and restaurants that line the streets.

You were stuck between these two places, university having been a four year long limbo of boundless sex mislabeled as self-discovery, and now visit your home one last time, reminding yourself of the life you had there before moving on to another.

You think of the past with nostalgia, yet also with a restlessness that makes you want to run from everything. The stillness, the silence, the unchanging landscape in this little town is too unbearable, too unsettling. But it’s familiar, and it’s comfortable. The life you’ll soon live promises excitement, autonomy, it’s the adulthood you’ve fantasized about. It terrifies you too, and you have these horrible dreams about missing the payment of the most insignificant bill and having the entire world collapse on you because of it. You still don’t know how to do your taxes.

College is over, a new life awaits you in a big city after landing a rather ideal job, but it felt like you were leaving things behind. Funny how, after so many years of fantasizing about this grown-up life you suddenly felt like a lost child, scared to forgo the familiar.

It’s these sort of almost-quarter-life-crisis thoughts that fill your mind on a particularly warm afternoon. You’re indecently splayed out on a couch with as little clothing as possible, the door to the backyard is wide open, letting an occasional breeze waft in to disrupt the stifling stillness of the heat. The lights are off, and you were too unbothered to turn them on as the sun set, preferring to stare at a darkening ceiling as the evening sky turned purple.

There’s a familiar jingle of keys from the front door.

“Honey? You home?”

“I’m here, Mom.” You lazily answer back. She wanders from the hall to the living room, you can feel the judgemental look she gives you.

“Have you been laying like this all day?”, indignation lines her voice. Was it so surprising to find you like this?

“Yeah…”

“You can’t just lay here all day. Go out! Get some sun! Go play with those kids you used to hang out with from school!”

“I can’t Ma, I’d rather just plank here.”

“Oh goodness, Y/n. Give me one good reason you shouldn’t go hang out with them!”

“I’ll give you two: either they grew up to be total bitches or they had kids and became a bore.”

“I didn’t become a bore when I had you!” She exclaims, although it’s not too serious and some playfulness hides beneath the surface.

“Yeah, that’s because you’re a cool mom. They don’t make those anymore.”

“Hmm… well, I think you should make a bit of an effort.”

“Mom… it’s my last vacation you know -”

“You know what?!” She suddenly exclaims, her voice brightening like a lightbulb just radiated in her thoughts. “Mrs. Carson’s son is here with her for the summer too! I bet you haven’t seen him in ages, and he’s gotten so handsome.”

“Mrs. Carson?” You didn’t have any clue who that was.

“Well… you might remember her as Mrs. Bang, but Jane changed her name when she married Norbert a few years ago. She still lives next door and Christopher’s in town spending the summer with his mother.”

Bang…

Christopher…

You hadn’t heard that name in years. It surprised you a bit actually, and a hint of a smile came to your lips.

“Yeah, yeah, Mom… I’ll think about it.”

You wouldn’t admit… something did grab your attention. A curiosity of sorts.

You were fifteen years old when you had your first kiss. He was a short boy with a kind smile, a bit awkward really, but you had a fondness for him. It wasn’t about looks at all, all boys at that age were hideous and nothing would change your opinion on that, but you’d swoon whenever you saw him. It was mutual, an icky teenage infatuation that had your friends poking fun at both of you whenever you’d become giddy at the sight of one another. Hot faces, nervous glances, trembling innocent touches.

He sat next to you in chemistry and you’d hold hands under the lab table while the teacher gave class. His left hand always felt soft in your right one. Cute. It’s a bit silly but you’re glad you had that sort of adorable and silly romance. While it lasted, that is.

Christopher wasn’t a bad guy. He was stupid, like all boys that age.

When you saw him kissing another girl, of course you cried, but you knew it had to do with him being stupid more than anything. This simple looking girl that you had been friends with in elementary school, you can’t even remember her name.

You know why he did it, beyond his stupidity. Your mom had let it slip long before - you knew it was coming.

“Honey, would you believe? Mr. and Mrs. Bang are divorcing!” Probably just some hot gossip from one of her PTA yoga groups, no ill intention on your behalf. She didn’t know you were seeing Christopher - over your dead body. You were fifteen and a horrible student, you didn’t need to give your mother yet another element to ground you with.

“Oh no…” You acted as normally as you could, your first thoughts went out to Christopher first though. “Do you know why?”

“Well… I’m obviously not going to ask, duh! But I do know that Mr. Bang is taking the kid with him abroad.” What?! What did she just say? Chis is WHAT?!

“I - uh, what?” Act normal, act normal, act normal.

“Aww… sweetie, was he your friend?” Goodness, parents can be so oblivious, but it’s beneficial in this case. She doesn’t pick up on the depression of your mood.

“I guess.” A sniffle is about to threaten your composure so, in your teenage arrogance, you leave before your mother can see your teary eyes.

The subsequent days were strange. You expected Christopher to tell you the news, you expected to comfort him, you expected to live out the rest of your young romance as best as you could. And then… you saw him.

And he said nothing. He was cold, pushed you away. He must be going through a lot of pain, you thought. More days went by and he still said nothing, and his demeanor grew worse, no affection, no smiles. He must be having a hard time, you reasoned.

Sometimes you thought he was on the verge of saying something to you, like he was about to say something and the words threatened to come out but he’d suddenly pull away and swallow them. You didn’t question it really, it was so confusing but you just went with it.

You never held his hand in chemistry again.

Time made you realize that Christopher didn’t want to be with you anymore. You weren’t sure if it was because he stopped liking you, and that hurt a little, but you knew what he was going through, and you stood by him in case he ever chose to open up and cry on your shoulder. You’d be there for him.

When he kissed that girl, it didn’t really surprise you. Damn it, what was her name? You cried, you thought it was because you were ugly and your boobs were still pretty small - stupid reasons.

It took a few months for you to understand the real reason.

He left without saying goodbye. You never spoke to him after he kissed what’s-her-name. Maybe he tried to do so a couple of times, but you ran away or didn’t let him. Or maybe you remembered it that way to comfort you, just so you’d live with the thought that he tried to apologize, tired to make things right.

But the fact of the matter is he didn’t speak to you and he didn’t say goodbye. He didn’t want to.

He didn’t want to say goodbye because it hurt.

He was trying to ruin your relationship so you’d break up with him and he wouldn’t have to say goodbye, so that he could kill the feelings you had for him to spare you from the pain of his departure.

Or maybe you were just imagining it like that to make it a cuter memory and think about it fondly.

Maybe in the end, Christopher was just a horny teenage boy that cheated on you. Maybe.

Regardless, you giggle as you think back on the silliness of it all, and how serious and life altering it all felt in your childishness. It seemed so long ago, so distant, and you were so changed that it felt like it had all happened to a different person. You wondered about the man next door, and the entirely different boy who had once been next door. What kind of person had Christopher become?

University did you well. It was four solid years of irresponsible drinking and uninhibited sexual exploration paired with relatively easy academics. You don’t know how it happened, but it had been like a transformation from one day to the next.

You, sort of, kind of, absolutely plain and normal girl that no one would notice lest you stepped in their line of sight. One day, there you were - normal.

Two weeks in - boom. Confident. Your roommate was an okayish girl, another plain one. Then you started noticing how comfortable you were undressing in front of her, to change clothes or whatever, as if it was the most normal thing in the world - which it was. Wearing shorts and skirts became less of a worry, just something that felt better. Sometimes you’d be thrown icky glances from some boys, which you hated, but others were acceptably flirty and you loved those. The best ones were the boys that would get shy and who would quickly whip their heads the other way once you caught them staring.

That definitely flipped the switch. It made you feel strong, it made you feel damn good. You, who at the most had dipped a finger into the world of heavy makeouts during high school, now became a seasoned seductress of all kinds of men. So long as you could wrap them around your finger with your demeanor, so long as you could prowl over them and take the lead.

Ah… the good old days.

What was going to happen now, though? Four years later, no slightly inexperienced men left to be wowed. Everyone you knew was turning into a bland and bitter office worker. Was this the end of it?

To think that you’d be ending this glorious chapter of your life in this tiny town, lounging on the same stuffy couch in the same hot living room every day, having your routine philosophical melodrama where you’d stare at the ceiling in the afternoons until your mother came in inquiring if you were alive. It was a terrible fate.

A few days after the revelation of Christopher’s presence, which you would never admit had been circling your mind nonstop, your mother returns with another piece of information.

“You know, Jane and Norbert are having a get together of sorts next Saturday - just the usuals from the block.”

“Is that so?” You said with disinterest.

“In fact, I borrowed a baking pan from her last week… why don’t you go over and give it back to her for me? She might need it, and you probably haven’t left this house in days.” You didn’t reply, but you could feel her eyes on you, waiting for you to obey.

“Fine…”

The afternoon was enjoyably fresh, although your white t-shirt stuck to you like a second skin, the bikini top you wore underneath tracing its silhouette into the cotton. You lazily stomped your way to the house next door, admiring the tall window where you had snuck into Christopher’s room a couple of times during your short romance. A ladder was perched up against the exterior toward that window, they must have been fixing things up. The porch was full of cans of paint, tools, boxes. It was only when you rang on the doorbell, begrudgingly holding the large tray, that you realized that Jane might not be the one to open the door but instead it could be -

The door swings open and you gasp. Christopher.

Well… his face hadn’t changed much. But he was slightly taller than you remembered, far more masculine, oh, and he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Yeah, he was shirtless… jeans hanging low on his hips… shirtless… abs… fit waist… arms…

“Hi! Is Jane home?” Good… pretend you don’t remember him.

“I - Uh… no, my mom’s actually out right now.” He replied. His voice had grown deeper, and where did he get that accent? Wait - did he not remember you? Now, that just made you angry, but you wouldn’t let it show.

“Oh, well… my mother wanted me to return this.” You say handing him the tray, avoiding trailing your eyes downward.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll give it to her.” He says. He seems a little frozen, an expression between surprise and caution lingers on his face, but you don’t know if it’s good or bad.

There’s a moment of silence where you just stare at each other.

“Y/n…” He finally says. There’s hesitation in the way he says your name. He’s scared, not of you, but he’s scared about the fact that you’re on his doorstep.

You don’t say anything, calmly, almost coyly, waiting for him to continue. You’d gotten rather good at pretending you were calm, and the slightest tint of a smile painted your lips so you wouldn’t seem cold or ingenuine.

“Do you remember me?” He asks. You can’t help but huff, a tiny laughter really.

“Of course. You know, you haven’t grown much taller.”

With those slightly playful words, you turn to walk back to your home, and with each step your impression of the encounter with your childhood love became more bitter and less sweet.

It was strange how you thought about him, about it. The situation, that is. Seeing him, talking to him, both of you now being older. A few days of thinking now.

You don’t know why you thought about it so much, but you thought about it. You thought about it without knowing how you felt about it or what you thought about it. This man you had only gotten a glimpse of, too overwhelmed to take in his features properly, now walks around your mind freely. He wasn’t the boy you knew. He wasn’t the boy next door whose hand you’d once hold in chemistry, who you’d kiss before turning the corner towards both of your homes. The boy who left all those years ago.

No, it wasn’t that boy. It was that man, who kept perturbing you. What did you feel? Interest? Yes, there was something quite intriguing about all of this which sparked your curiosity. Lust? Of course, absolutely, the man next door looked divine. Suppose you could abstract the person from his body, so that you wouldn’t be so bothered by who he was and what he meant to you, and you’d easily bend over in front of him and invite him in.

You supposed a conversation was in place, though, because after all, he was still the Christopher. You couldn’t just go around fucking people like that anymore - unfortunately. That was something you got away with in college. It’s a shame college boys grow up to be boring men, sex gets more boring, they think they have all the authority… Maybe you should go back to school.

You’re sitting on the windowsill of your second floor bedroom, one leg hanging out and stepping onto the roof. Opposite to your window, beyond a neat shrub, is the window of the guest room of Mrs. Carson, formerly Bang, which seems unchanged from when you last saw it. You remember watching her from your room, also unchanged, using the TV in there to do some aerobics she followed along from a VHS… was it a VHS? No, that’s the machine. What were the things you used to put in the VHS? A cassette? No… regardless, eventually she must have started using DVD’s.

Damn it, it all seemed like thousands of years ago.

Damn it, you were still so melodramatic throwing around words like poetry over some Richard Simmons tape. Aha! It’s a tape!

Your crotch is being dug into by the window frame, and you let your weight rest on it, the slight grind tempting you to have a round of masturbation. But you’ll finish the cigarette you stole from your mother first. It tasted awful, it was another adult thing you couldn’t understand. Why did everyone at university smoke so much? It was just another thing their eager teenage selves did to emulate the adults in grown-up world, to feel a little more grown-up. Who the hell likes this stuff?

But you liked watching it burn, occasionally inhaling its airy and bitter smoke. It wasn’t your preferred type of smore. You preferred watching papers and matches burn, their sweet and rich smell, the warmth of the fire that would sting the edges of your fingers. Shame your mother only used a lighter, you didn’t like the smell of that fire either.

You just surrendered to watching the bright tip of the cigarette and the white streams that came from it.

“You know those are bad for you.”

“Jesus fucking Christ!” You exclaimed, your heart nearly jumping out from your chest. A man had sprung out from the window in the guest room of the Carson house, formerly Bang, and that man was Christopher Bang himself.

“Sorry I didn’t -”

“You almost gave me a fucking heart attack - what the hell?!”

“ - mean to startle you…”

“Damn it, Christopher!”

“Ah! So you do remember me?” He says with a bit of joy, but you just look at him, realizing that this is where the talk will come. His features grow a little more somber. He continues, “So… I guess I -”

“Where’d you get the accent?” You interrupt, genuinely curious. “You sound like the crocodile hunter.”

“Well… I was living in Australia with my dad.” He says it in a normal tone, but you make sure it doesn’t stay normal.

“Oh, so that’s where you went?” You both wince at what you just said. Yep, it’s finally time for that talk.

There’s a bit of silence, but you’ll let him be the one to fill it.

“I…” He sighs deeply. Uuhh… it’s quite a masculine sigh. “I didn’t know you’d be here. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again but I… there’s something I’ve always wanted to say.”

“I’m listening…” You say. It’s a flat tone, but it’s funny. You hope it’ll ease him.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry.” Some silence again, “I’m sorry for being an ass, I’m sorry for cheating on you -”

“Chris, we were like fifteen… you kissed a girl with braces, big deal.” You waved it off. Really, kissing that girl didn’t bother you so much, now almost ten years later.

“I left without saying anything.”

“Yeah, you did. Hard to not notice.”

“I was - I know it’s not an excuse, but I was going through a lot and I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“So you left without saying anything?”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok… we haven’t spoken in years. I practically forgot about it.” No you didn’t.

“Did you?” He says. Was he hopeful when you insinuated he hadn’t hurt you as much as he thought he had?

“No, not really. I mean, yeah, you kissing another girl was pretty insignificant, we were just kids. It did hurt that you left without… I don’t know… There wasn’t any closure. There wasn’t a goodbye. I felt confused for a while, I guess.”

“I’m so sorry about that. But my parents were splitting up, I was going to have to leave everything behind. You were the first girl I loved and I was going to have to say goodbye and I couldn’t handle it. I was too hurt and embarrassed to even tell my friends. I wish I had done it differently.”

“Yeah, I wish you had too. I wanted to be there for you, you know? I wanted to hug you, hold your hand, tell you it was going to be ok.

“I really messed up there…”

“It’s okay Chris, you were just a kid. We were just kids.” You offer your sympathy but he doesn’t soften.

“Mhmm. Doesn’t make me feel less guilty about it.”

“Can I ask you something?” He nods, “Did you do all that stuff… you know, treat me that way, for real or where you…?”

“I was hoping you’d break up with me, get over me. That way we wouldn’t have to say goodbye and we wouldn’t get hurt.”

“I got hurt.” You admit.

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.” You insist. “It’s fine. We’re fine. We’re old and grown and fine. All of that’s in the past, I can’t blame you for acting like a kid. It’s okay.”

“Well I can agree with you there. We did grow up, not kids anymore.”

“You didn’t grow that much.” You laugh, he laughs too.

“You certainly did.” He’s being flirty. It could have been bad timing, but the mood felt right.

“Oh, you noticed?”

“Hard not to.” Goodness was he being direct. “You were really cute back in school, I had a crush on you for like, forever.”

“Really…Plain old me?”

“Really. And now here we are and I think I could have a crush on you all over again.”

“So you can go off and kiss another girl with braces and leave the continent?”

“No, I’m a one woman man.” He says while making himself comfortable on his own ledge. It’s getting comfortable overall, like you’re talking to someone you’ve known for the longest time, like a decade of separation didn’t do much harm.

“Well, well. And who is that lucky woman now?”

“There’s no one at the moment. I’m in the middle of some life changes.”

“Do tell.”

“I’m moving back. Well, not here, just in the country again. A big city, big job, kinda scary.”

“Seems we’re on the same boat. I just came back to say goodbye to this place forever and I’m ooout.”

“Did you finish school already?”

“Yeah… I wish I hadn’t though.” You think back on your experience with longing, lamenting it’s end.

“Wow, can’t relate. I couldn’t wait for it to end. What’d you miss about it?”

“Well, I didn’t have to work, grades were good and easy. And I guess, it was tons of fun.”

“How so?”

“Being on a campus full of horny and stupid guys - it was open game.” Chan hisses at your admission.

“I wouldn’t have taken you for that type.” He chuckles, “You would stutter for like the first two months we went out.”

“We were just kids.”

“I guess we were…”

Another comfortable silence as you stare off at the sky, your cigarette burnt through with only the spongy bud left to pinch.

“Chris?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m single too, you know.”

It might have been a bad idea, you said it on impulse after all, something quite instinctive having taken over you. Maybe you were just horny and Christopher was just hot, regardless, the conversation was over. Before he could even process what you said, and the implications to it, you had already slipped back into your darkened room and out of his sight.

Chan felt like a teenager again. Not in a good way.

Chan remembered your first kiss, holding your hand. He remembered your breasts being the first he had ever really noticed, your legs being the first he ever caressed. He remembers how you’d press your bodies together while you kissed, not really understanding what both of you felt, only understanding the urgency of it.

Now he can name those feelings, the ones that once belonged to an inexperienced boy, merely dipping his toes into the surface of that world. But now that he dove, and had dived into its waters several times, he knew how to swim in them.

Yet, seeing you made him feel like he didn’t. It made him feel like he couldn’t swim, like he couldn’t breathe. He felt like he was drowning.

The first moment he saw you on his doorstep he felt his stomach drop, a pang of guilt that had lingered on his mind during countless of sleepless nights hitting him with full force. He didn’t expect it. He thought he would never see you again.

And after taking another look, a longer look, it was like he was swimming in completely different waters. He felt submerged, and he didn’t know which way was up. He wanted to open his mouth and swallow it all up, let you drown him.

He hadn’t felt this raging feeling since he was a teenager. He certainly hadn’t had a specific woman make him feel like this until you.

It made him feel another kind of guilt. Shame even.

The following days he’d watch you, shamefully. His mother had him painting the house and when he stood on the rooftops he took his time to enjoy the view of you swimming in your pool, wearing tiny bikinis that stuck to your skin and showed the buds of your niples and the lines of your labia through the fabric. He would admit, shamefully, that he stopped watching from the roof because he needed to get closer to see these beautiful details.

He now watched you from over the fence in his backyard. Getting incredibly hard watching you swim, watching you oil your body down.

It was all horribly, horribly shameful.

But weren’t you the one that mentioned you were single? It had caught him off guard. He was being cheeky in that moment, but he didn’t know what waters he was testing then. Now he knew, and it was making him behave so, so shamefully.

Should he go over there, push you into a corner of the pool and pull your bottoms to the side? Should he kneel at your feet while your rubbing yourself with that golden oil, and beg you to let him fuck you?

It wasn’t just the thought of sex that drove him mad, it was you in general. How inferior he felt in front of you, like he had to prove himself. Every day he worked shirtless, hoping you’d get a glimpse of him, but you were just so unbothered by it all.

It was driving him fucking insane.

If only you knew.

Except - of course you did. Of course you did. This is what you craved, what you were best at. Driving boys, technically men but boys sounds tastier, to be absolute slaves to their desire for you. Christopher wasn’t doing a good job at hiding it. Did he really think that you would suddenly spend every day swimming in the tiniest bikinis after having not left your couch for over a week? They really are such stupid, fuckable animals.

And Chris was particularly fuckable.

Day four of his perverted project, he was hammering away at some boards in the back porch of his house. Your mother wouldn’t be home for hours, his parents were away for a couple of days.

Everything was perfect.

“Chris?!” You call loudly over the fence from your chaise lounge, carelessly flipping through a book. The hammering stopped, he had heard you. “Chris, it’s hot today. Don’t you think you should come over for a swim to cool down?”

Why on earth were you acting so damn unbothered and confident, he thought. Why on earth were you asking him over?

It’s only a matter of time before he circles his own house and slides in through the gate on your end. He’s still wearing jeans and a utility belt, gloves too. No shirt.

“You can’t really swim in those, take them off.” You hardly peered at him from over your sunglasses. He was just standing there, frozen. That’s usually a sign that you’re working your magic well. Good. “Come on Christopher, take them off.”

“I - uh, I’m actually not wearing trunks right now. Uhm… I’ll be right back.”

“Oh, you don’t have to go.” Insert unbothered page flip. “Why don’t you just undress and get in the pool so I can join you?”

“W-what?” He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He genuinely thought he had imagined it, maybe all of his hornyness was driving him insane.

“Christopher!” You whine. “You’re ruining the fun!” You slam the book shut and throw it over to the side, taking your sunglasses and hat off. “Chris, I think it’s obvious. Do you think I haven’t noticed you being a peeping tom for the past half week? Look! You’ve already got a tent in your pants and everything!”

“Fuck.” Shit, you were right.

“This is like, hmm, like an open invitation to fuck me.” You say with an eye roll, but your eyes roll toward his abs because they are absolutely distracting you.

“Are… are you serious?”

“Well… You want to, I want to. You’re nice, look like you’ve become quite a decent man - and I’m not just referring to your physique Chris. Maybe, just maybe, it would be an excellent idea if we finally fucked this tension away.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that. You’re here for a few weeks, so am I. Why not enjoy each other while we can? After that we can just go our separate ways, just like before except we’ll end it on good terms.”

Too many points for him to argue with - you were right on all of them. He couldn’t disagree. In fact, he eagerly agreed. Little did he know you had this pitch rehearsed to perfection, to your benefit, because he seemed to be completely subdued by it.

“Fuck.” He mutters under his breath. Fumbling with his belt, zipper, exposing the line of his abdomen down to his hardening cock. A fat, heavy cock that swung between his muscular thighs. He was fully nude now, standing in front of you, his tan skin glistening in the sunlight. You’re quick to urge him over with a finger.

He pounces, but once he’s crawling over you on that narrow chair, he becomes slow.

“Hi.” You manage to whimper out, now feeling a bit small beneath him, feeling nervous even.

“Hey.” He’s just as nervous but there’s an energy that goes beyond either of your wills pulling you toward one another.

He kisses you. It’s a kiss you melt into, and he sinks his body against yours, with you spreading your legs so he can slot between them. His cock rests against your lower abdomen, his body pressing further into you.

You can’t help but slide your hand between your two bodies in an attempt to finger yourself, prepare yourself, but he stops you and pulls back.

“No.” He growls.

“No?” Is he going to leave you like this?!

“Let me.”

And you do. Chan lowers himself, adjusting you so he can easily bend over the chair while kneeling on the ground, and his hands shake as he dips the tip of his fingers into the hem of your bottoms, just slightly tugging at the material, playing with it before he starts to play with you. You’ve got the perfect view of him basically drooling over you.

He slides the bottoms to the side, but you pull at the strings at your hips, so they come undone and he pulls them away completely. Your lips and the juices coming from between them are just as glossy than your oiled skin.

He can’t help but dig in. Fucking you with his mouth, jamming his fingers in you. It’s an animalistic frenzy and it’s hot and slippery and sticky. You cum and your fluids spill over the impermeable cushion below, pooling under your ass. He can see every sparkling droplet fall from you.

It’s just a haze, he nearly jumps on you, bending your legs nearly over your head, bouncing his pelvis on your cunt like a trampoline, smacking with every thrust. You’re completely glued to one another. If he’s not abusing your mouth with his tongue then he’s biting on your shoulder or grunting, growling, into your ear. It’s filthy. You’re absolutely sure you’ve never been fucked like this.

He cums, several times, as do you. He pulls out each time, jerks himself off on your body, although a couple of times you urged him into your mouth and face. He pulls the triangles on your top to the sides, so your breasts are exposed. He made sure to cum on those too. Semen, sweat, squirt, oil, spit, everywhere there are droplets of your fluids shining on your body like jewels.

It ends with him lying on top of you, nearly sleeping from exhaustion, and your lips feel deliciously sore and sensitive, almost ticklish as he softens inside of you.

It happens again. Several times in fact. Many, many times. When his parents are away, when your mom is away, you fuck all the time. Just a little call of his name over the fence or from your window and he’d be running to you. You were too comfortable with one another to bother with formalities, it was like you’d never been separated. You’d wait for him on all fours, wet cunt on display for him to dive in, but he’d always greet you with a gentle kiss.

Fucking each others faces, drinking eachothers fluids. You even let him fuck you in the ass, multiple times, and he was the first guy to make you cum that way. You were just as hooked and as desperate as he was.

Things started to change though.

The welcoming kisses became longer, you’d talk between the rounds…

You’d fall asleep in his arms, or he in yours.

You’d fuck slowly, deeply, staring into each other’s eyes.

You’d talk to him, tell each other stories of all these years, asi if you had been together the entire time.

You’d smile as you made love, gently. You’d let him cum inside of you.

He’d hold your hand again. They were as soft and warm as you remembered.

You were holding his hand on one particular pink evening, your head resting on his heaving chest, teaching circles into his pecs and nipples. On your bed, in your quiet childhood room. It was a painful silence now. It had been weeks, weeks closer to your respective departure dates.

“I wish I had never left.” He eventually says. You don’t know what to say. “I wish we could have stayed like this for longer.”

“Maybe we would have broken up eventually, or left for college.” You ponder.

“Maybe I would have taken you to prom, or we would have had sex together for the first time…” He returns.

“On this bed? Hmm? With my cute school uniform?” You tease. “Yeah, maybe.”

“But I guess this is what was meant to be.” He sighs, as do you.

“I’m sorry.” Is all you can say.

“What for?”

“I don’t know, I just feel bad. I started this and now we have to go our separate ways again.” You feel something sting in your eye. You can’t cry now.

“Shh…” He coos as he hears you sniffle and feels you twitch. It makes his heart ache like it did all those years ago when he left.

“I - I…” You cry. “I don’t want you to go. I don’t want to go.”

He pulls you into his arms, crushing you in an embrace. Your eyes are closed but you feel the tears fall from his face, he’s crying too.

“I know… but what else can we do?”

There was nothing left to do, other than fuck the days away, crying, holding each other until it hurt. It was a horrible, horrible thing to have fallen in love with Christopher Bang this final summer.

You didn’t go with him to the airport. You didn’t want to say goodbye, you didn’t want to see where he was going.

But he did slip into your room that final night. You made love quietly, he kissed you as you cried.

He said it was the second time he loved you, and the second time he had to leave you.

It hurt much more this time around. Maybe you shouldn’t have done it, maybe you shouldn’t have gone next door.

Being in your house was unbearable once Chris wasn’t next door.

A week later, you’ve arrived at your new place. It had been a whirlwind and you stayed at a hotel the first couple of nights while your new furniture got brought in, most of your personal belongings only fitting in a couple of bags.

It’s kept you busy. That way you think about him a little less. Crying into pillows that have that certain ‘brand new’ smell isn’t quite as comforting as you’d expect. Everything seems unfamiliar, strange, artificial. Nothing here reminded you of him - it was for the best and you hated it.

The place is nice, bright. It’s on the third floor of a small apartment building, a couple of other doors beside yours in the hall. You go downstairs to grab a few packages that have arrived, carefully treading up the stairs in a kind of balancing act once they’re piled in your arms. It’s a choreography you can dance to with expertise, always denying any help from your neighbors.

However, you do fumble with the lock and handle once you’re at your door, holding the boxes up by pressing them against the door with your body as your hands blindly fumble with the keys, nothing but cardboard in your sight.

Nothing you can’t handle, until they start to slip.

“Woah, let me help you with that!” someone says behind you, and in your complicated state it’s a bit difficult to process what happens but the boxes are soon out of the way, said someone pulling them from you and freeing you.

And then you see him.

Him.

Your him.

He says your name and you’re too stunned to react. He’s in awe too. He drops your packages, and you’re certain some of them contain some makeup palettes but you don’t give a damn at the moment.

“What are you doing here?” You finally ask, frozen in place.

“I… live in 304.” He says.

“You live in 304?” He nods. “You? You’re serious?” He nods again, eyes still wide.

You both stand there, processing it all. This can’t be real.

“I live in 302.” you manage to say, after some time. Your voice is weak, all the air has left your lungs. You shake.

“You do?” He asks. Now you nod.

This can’t be.

But he cups your face, holds it like you’re precious and delicate, he kisses you. It is real. You kiss him back, harder. Eventually you’re both clinging to one another, gripping each other’s clothes desperately.

“You live here.” He says, little tears sparkling in the corner of his eyes. You nod, the same tears coming to you.

“I do. Mm-hmm.” The sniffles you let out seem so sweet to him, he swoons with how happy you are to see him. Knowing you feel the same joy he does - it makes him feel complete.

“I live here too!” He cries, laughing, smiling, beautifully.

One more kiss, just to make sure it’s real. You pull him in and kiss him one more time.

It’s real.

[eartht137]

FOR THE BETTER

Hello and greetings to anyone that gets to read this. It is my first story. I wanted to try and see how this was received before continuing so please feel free to let me know how you like it. Please be easy on me it is my first one I am new to this, but I hope you like it. Its a bit slow right now but I swear the chapters will get going as we go along on this ride together. Okay *curvies* love ya! Enjoy!

Dark Clark Kent x (Black)!Plus Size Reader

SUMMARY: (I suck at them but here goes) After working miserable unfulfilling jobs, you decide to go back to school to pursue your dream in writing. You get the very handsome, very smart Mr. Kent as your English/Literature Professor. You've always stayed to yourself preferring to have your alone time and focus on your writing. Mr. Kent comes in to shake that way of thinking up and its all with your best interest at heart (well his best interest at heart){Cheesy, am I right?}

"For the weekend's assignment. Something very simple, almost high school level. Don't complicate it." Mr. Kent said dragging his feet to tell you all what the stupid assignment was.

"Get to the point." You thought out loud as you rested your head in your hand. He glared at you for moment before continuing. You felt your face flush, because-'no way he heard me' you thought.

"I want you all to write me a paper on...one thing you like about yourself and why." He rushed out. "I want you all to be as genuine as possible, if you're going to be journalists you have to capture your audience. If you can sell yourself, then you can sell a story. If you're a snooze fest......I honestly don't know what to tell you" He chuckled

Everyone groaned because why???

"Due next Monday on the dot. NO EXCEPTIONS!" He belted. "If you don't have your paper on Monday, you will stand up and give a 5 minute speech on said topic."

'What kind of teenage topic is this?' You thought.

"Don't give me lip guys, you signed up for this. I didn't make you do anything." He said pointing at all of you. "No complaining. Monday! Class dismissed." He announced causing everyone to scatter. You were just about out the door when he stopped you.

"Y/n, can you stay back for bit?"

"Yeah sure." You immediately got nervous. You weren't used to being singled out, you always managed to stay below the radar. You'd figured out ways to stay out of sight out of mind after always being criticized by your family, so getting asked to stay back wasn't a normal thing. You braced yourself for the "you can do better speech" and hoped it wouldn't take too long. You watched as the room emptied and he gathered his stuff.

"Come on, lets step into my office." He said leading the way with his hands full. "Have a seat." he said motioning to the chair in front of his desk. you sat feeling butterflies in the pit of your stomach. Literally everyone would've given anything to be where you were. Mr. Kent was almost mythical. You didn't know a day where you didn't think 'DAMN that man know he fine!' And you knew he knew it.

"Bet you think I'm gonna talk about your grades." he chuckled. "While I do require your improvement,"

'Require?' you thought hoping your face didn't covey your attitude.

"I wanted to talk about something else."

"O-kay?"

"I've notice, you're very um...to yourself, is everything-"

'Oh there it is.'

"Mr. Kent, please don't analyze me. I am a whole different breed of human. I don't do people."

"I'm sorry?" he asked tilting his head.

"I just value my alone time. You can't have that with people."

"You can still have space with other people in your life." he said shaking his head at you.

"I didn't say space, I said alone time, and that's not the same. That's still with people. Like, no." you said crossing you arms.

He stared at your for a second, the he began to laugh, and rub his eyes. "You really are something."

"Mm-hmm its true."

"I'm just saying its healthy to get out and socialize every once and awhile, not all the time, I mean-don't you get lonely sometimes?

"No, not really. I mean don't give me wrong I'm human. I get the urge to hang out, then I do, then I remember why I didn't want to do it in the first place." you said realizing you were almost ranting. He eyed you as if he didn't believe you.

"I tell you what, I know you say you're fine, but for my sanity, can we be friends? You know just someone to check on you, make sure you're okay? If-if you hate it by the end of the week then I'll let it go."

"Mr. Kent, no offense, but why do you care? I mean, you have your own life, I'm sure you got a nice family you should be there for, so like....I'm gonna need a it all to make sense."

"Its mean, don't get me wrong I enjoy solitude too, and its not because I don't like people," he chuckled, "but I know what its like to sometimes need someone I could just talk to when I really needed it most and not having it. I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy. Its funny because it would always lead me home."

"Well that's the difference between you and me, there is no going back." you sighed. You contemplated it 'It couldn't hurt could it?' "Okay."

"Okay?"

"We can be friends." you resigned.

"Great!" he said clapping his hands together.

"Only til the end of the week." You said standing stretching. "So we good? Can I go?"

"Actually, what are you doing tonight? I mean, my ma is cooking dinner and-"

"Okay anything food related, I'm down." You cut him off.

"Good, well I'll pick you up at 6?"

"Yeah sure." You said trying to get away.

"Uh, Y/n?"

"Yes?" You asked sweetly.

"I'm going to need your address." He said knowing you knew he needed it.

You gave you your information and booked it out of there. You immediately went home and took a nap. The whole ordeal was a bit draining for you.

It was your phones constant vibrating that woke you out of a deep sleep. You let it ring a few more times before picking it up.

"What?" You groaned into the phone.

"Y/n are ready? I'm like 15 minutes away." Mr. Kent asked.

"Ready for what?"

"Food?"

"Food? Food! Oh shit!" You said jumping up remembering dinner plans. "I'll be ready when you get here." You said quickly hanging up and rushing to get ready. By the time you felt you looked decent enough, he called and told he was there. When you walked out to meet him, you saw his girlfriend was with him and you put on a small smile. 'Of course he has a girlfriend, why wouldn't he. Still a bummer though, oh well.' you thought to yourself as you walked toward them.

"Y/n this is Lois, Lois this is Y/n. Lois is one of the top editors at the Daily Planet." He bragged, and you immediately got nervous. You'd read her work and you'd give to be as good, even better at writing.

"It really is nice to meet you, Clark speaks very highly of you and your writing." she said smiling.

"Really? I mean writing is my passion, I'm aspiring to get at least in the door. I'm not an editor or professor, but I think I'm okay." You said realizing you were babbling on because of your anxiety.

"Be confident in your work. It shows when you really mean what you're writing about. It also shows when you're doubting yourself." She said smiling at you. You immediately liked her and hoped to get to know her for advice sometime. You all got in and they fell into easy chatter along the way. Every now and again they'd touch on a topic you'd find interesting or be excited about, and you'd really get into it, smiling and being expressive. You'd catch Clark staring at you, a bit shocked at how much you had to say after months of being so quiet, and you'd retreat like a turtle back into your shell. You tried to not enjoy being around them, but every now and again, you liked talking to people on your level. Every now and again, you'd get lost in the breeze of the night air. You'd look out and get lost looking at the stars and the moon out of the open window of the moving car. You get so lost you forgot the other two people in the car and you'd miss the glances Clark took at you through the rearview mirror. When you all arrived at his moms farm you practically gawked at all the land around. You driven by open field and corn fields, you'd never actually gotten to see it up close.

As you all got out, his mom stepped out and waved at you.

"Well, looks like we got extra family tonight." she said smiling. You immediately felt a bit awkward. "Oh dear don't be shy, any friend of Clark is family." She said pulling you into a big hug.

"Thank you for having me Mrs. Kent." You said smiling.

"No go on now you just call me Martha." she said smiling and leading you inside. "You two come along, you know the routine." She said waving Lois and Clark inside. Dinner was great, you even found yourself laughing out loud. It exhilarated you and scared you to have such a good time around other people. You almost, ALMOST, didn't want the night to end, but you missed your bed. As if reading your mind, Clark announced it was time to leave.

"Looks like someone is ready for bed." He chuckled.

"Yep, I miss my solitude." You said stretching. Clark shook his head at you.

"What?" You asked innocently.

You said your final farewells and got in the car heading home. The ride home was peaceful, there was a calm silence between you three and you smiled watching the love exchanges between the two. You could see how much he loved her and you could understand why, Lois was beautiful woman. Your mind jumped from reasons you weren't in a relationship, to the assignment Clark had given you for the weekend. One thing you like about yourself? That topic was always hard for you and you couldn't even begin to find the words to start. Over the years you'd tried hard to accept yourself, love yourself, and be who you were unapologetically, but the moment you got to the threshold of truly giving yourself a chance, all of the criticism, judgment, and years of being invalidated filled you with fear and dread and you'd go back to your shell and do what you did best. Stay in your own bubble. Tears stung your eyes as you tried to stomp down the voices of doubt and resentment, 'It's okay, I'm good, I do what I have to and I'm happy with it. I'm at peace.' you thought to yourself over and over.

"You okay?" Clarks deep voice full of concerned pulled you from your thoughts and you shook you head to bring yourself back to reality.

"Yeah, just trying to stay awake." you said avoiding his gaze. The ride continued in silence and you couldn't help but drift off. One moment you were letting the ride soothe you to sleep and the next you heard a voice cooing you to sleep.

"Shh shh shh it's okay" Clark whispered. You couldn't help but cover your eyes. You were in Clark's arms as he carried you to the apartment.

"Woah," you said trying to get out of his arms. He gently placed you on your feet like a flower.

"Hey, its okay, calm down." He said gently rubbing your arms.

"S-sorry, I've just never-"

"Had anyone carry you before." He said finishing your sentence. You shifted feeling a bit awkward.

"Well, thanks for dinner. Thanks Lois!" You waved at her before going to your door. "Goodnight." you said one last time as you got inside. During the weekend you were extremely restless and was finding it hard to concentrate long enough to work on your assignment. Even when you sat waiting for words to form in your mind you eventually got busy doing something different. The night before class, you had an idea pop in your head, and you decided to go for it. You just hoped it would all make sense, it was the only think your mind focused on.

[dccomicsimagines]

My Business - Clark Kent x Reader

Requested by Anon -  A superman x reader imagine with the prompt: "I found your nose! It was in my business."

Requested by warblinglion0  - Hi! Could I request a Clark Kent imagine please??

***

Clark closed his eyes against the blowing snow. He flew over the city, using his super hearing to guide him. The city was quieter than normal. The snowstorm had shut almost everything down. 

He sighed, swooping down to help a woman carry home groceries. “Thank you, Superman,” she shouted once she was at her building. Clark waved at her and took off into the sky again. 

Most of his day was spent helping stranded people with the storm. He had already written his article about the impact of the storm on Metropolis’ sewer system. Perry could forgive boring content when the storm created a slow news day. Clark snorted. He bet Lois found some kind of amazing story in this weather. 

He landed on the top of the Daily Planet. The cold air felt sharp in his lungs. It reminded him of winters at home. He looked out at the snow covered city, thinking of turning in. A cup of hot chocolate while watching that documentary he felt would give him an edge in a story he was researching. He felt warm already. 

“Get lost, jerk.” Your voice hit his ears. Clark’s eyes widened in surprise. It was like he was subconsciously listening for you sometimes. Your voice always came to him in the moments he never suspected. 

He floated into the air, searching for you. You sounded too close to be at your apartment across town. 

“Stupid, country bum,” a man’s voice echoed near you. Clark heard a door slam. He flew faster before slowing when he found you trudging through the snow in the street. His stomach dropped at how underdressed you were. You didn’t even have a coat on.

He almost flew down to you, but he stopped himself. People couldn’t see Superman around you. Too risky. He quickly flew to his apartment only a block away. Changing into regular clothes, he made sure to pick up an extra coat for you before zooming back to you. 

***

You wrapped your arms around yourself and cursed your situation. Why didn’t you bring a coat? Why did you decide to go the the club during a snowstorm? You shook your head, feeling the snow settled on your head. Everything was shut down. You shivered, crossing the street to make the long walk home. 

“(Y/N)? What are you doing out here?” Clark’s voice made you jump. You spun around, seeing him run over to you. Ironically, he was dressed for the weather. Funny since he couldn’t feel the cold. “Where’s your coat?” He had an extra coat over his arm, which he quickly wrapped around you. You slipped your arms in the sleeves, noting how warm it was. 

A shaky laugh escaped you. “I found your nose. It’s in my business...again.” You tapped his nose before struggling to zip up the coat. Your fingers were already numb, burning from the cold. Clark shook his head, smiling as he zipped it for you. 

“Come on. It’s too far for you to go home now. My place is nearby.” He wrapped a strong arm around you and led you home. “Now why are you out in this weather?”

He was so warm and his big frame blocked the wind. “Well, I got invited to a club by some friends of Lucy’s.” You bit your lip. “I thought I’d go, but then one of the guys started making fun of me when I didn’t know what...” You stopped yourself from spilling the embarrassing conversation. “Never mind.” 

“You’re always getting in trouble.” Clark unlocked his building’s front door and held it open for you. You hurried inside, stomping your feet to knock off the snow. Shivers rocked your body, you could have swore ice was forming on your body. 

“And you’re always popping up to help.” You rolled your eyes. “I never would have thought my good old brother, Pete, would ask you to keep an eye on me so much. Do you two even talk that much anymore?” 

“We do.” Clark bit his lip. Pete Ross didn’t call him that much, but they always caught up when Clark went home for a visit. It was actually during one of those visits that Pete asked Clark to keep an eye on his younger sibling who got it into their head to move to Metropolis. Pete thought you were in over your head, and honestly, most of the time you were. 

You pulled Clark’s jacket closer as you both headed to the elevator. “I mean there was that time where I was in that bad roommate situation, so you helped me move. Then I wanted to rent that one place for really cheap and you stepped in to show me how bad it was. Of course, then you came in with that offer to live with Lucy Lane in a nicer part of town.” 

Clark blushed slightly. “Well, it’s the least I could do. I mean you’re practically family, (Y/N).” 

Your stomach soured slightly. You were afraid he only saw you as Pete’s little tagalong sibling. Who could blame him when you felt so helpless most of the time? “I personally think it’s because you want to make up for breaking up my mud mask business in the fifth grade.” 

He laughed hard, almost doubling over. “You were taking mud from the pond and mixing it with your mother’s perfume. It made three people break out in hives.” 

“I had a warning label on it.” You smiled at his reaction. “And it was five dollars a bottle.” 

Clark shook his head. “Ma actually bought one from you. She didn’t use it though. In fact, I think she still has it sitting in the garage.” 

“Too bad for her. Lana swore by it. Said it cleared up her acne just like that.” You snapped your fingers, chuckling along with him. The elevator doors opened and Clark led the way down the hall to his apartment. 

“In all seriousness though, you shouldn’t have went out with a storm on the way. The city shuts down during snowstorms.” Clark unlocked his apartment door and pushed it open to let you in first. 

“The club was still open.” You wandered inside, flicking on the lights to take in the bland surroundings. The only personal items were a framed newspaper article and three family pictures of the Kents. 

“Stupidly still open, yes.” Clark shut the door and locked it. “I’ll make some hot chocolate. Make yourself comfortable, (Y/N).” He took off his coat and shook it out before pulling off his shoes. You kept the coat on, still warming up. 

Clark went into the kitchen and you trailed behind him. “Were you as helpless as me when you first moved here?” you asked suddenly as you took a seat at the counter. Clark blinked, turning to look at you while he turned on the stove. 

“Yes. I had no idea what I was doing and I had a few tricky situations myself.” He smiled. “I’m glad I can help you not to make the same mistakes I did.” 

You hummed. He turned back to start warming up the milk. “Of course it was easier for you. Being Superman and all.” Clark flinched, looking at you with wide eyes. You laughed at the sight. “I know. I know. We’re not supposed to talk about it. It’s the thing we know, but never speak of.” 

Clark sighed. “I don’t think that made it easier for me.” He cleared his throat, turning back to the stove. “It was hard to hide my powers. To have some much noise around me all the time. Not to mention when I decided to become Superman.” 

You watched him, noting the tension in his shoulders. Part of you wanted to go hug him, but you resisted. You didn’t know how he would react. “I remember the first time we knew for sure that you were something special. It was during winter break one year. You, Pete, and Tommy Johnson were trying to go ice fishing at the lake. I followed you because you wouldn’t let me come and I was being stubborn.”

“You fell through the ice because you walked on the thin part.” Clark hummed, getting out the chocolate mix. 

“No one would have noticed, but you heard me scream.” You crossed your arms. The chill from the freezing water felt like a permanent scar every time you thought back on that day. “I went under the ice and I couldn’t find a way to get out.” 

“I dived in after you.” Clark mixed in the chocolate slowly. You wondered if he was remembering how cold the water was too, even though he didn’t get cold. “I had to break through the ice once I found you. Pete and Tommy ran over to help. I let them pull us out. Tommy couldn’t believe I broke through the ice, but Pete told him it was thin there too.”

“None of us said anything about it, but you did save my life that day.” You took a deep breath, slipping off your chair. Taking off his coat, you were finally warm enough. “We always knew, but never really talked about it. I remember I tried to ask Pete to ask you to lift this big rock for me and he slapped my face.” 

“He slapped you?” Clark spun to you, staring at your cheek like Pete just slapped you right this second. You chuckled and touched your cheek. It had stun a lot. You cried at the time.

“Pete was protecting you. Like I said it’s the thing we all knew, but never talked about.” Your face burned at the concern on his face. “I’m fine, Clark.” 

Clark bit his lip, turning away to grab two mugs out of the cabinet. You snorted when you saw he had a superman mug. “Ma gave this to me. She thought it was funny.” He handed you a filled mug and turned off the stove. 

“It is if you know.” You took a sip, licking your lips. “This is good.”

“Thanks, I learned from the best.” Clark took a sip of his own hot chocolate. “I was going to watch a documentary for work if you want join me? Otherwise, we can just watch regular TV, I’m not picky.” 

You headed into the living room and made yourself comfortable on his couch. “The documentary is fine. I like learning.”

“I bet Mrs. G just rolled over in her grave at that.” Clark laughed. “I remember how you made her so mad that her face turned completely red like she was going to burst into flames.” 

“Good times.” You laughed, relaxing as Clark sat down beside you. Shyly, he grabbed a blanket and covered you and himself with it. You hesitated before cuddling into his side.

Clark paused. You saw a mixed expression of emotions cross his face. “You comfortable?”

“Yep.” You took another sip from your mug. Clark relaxed and turned on the documentary. The two of you snuggled while the snowstorm raged outside.

***

The next morning, Clark was startled to hear eggs frying in the kitchen. He slowly got out of bed and was about to leave his bedroom until he remembered you. Quickly, he pulled on an old Smallville High t-shirt. No reason to scare you with his bare chest. 

You were in the kitchen. Clark stopped in the doorway, his breath taken away. He had forgotten he had given you a shirt of his to wear. You turned when you heard his gasp. “Good morning.” You waved innocently before turning back to the stove. “I hope you don’t mind that I made us breakfast. I figured it was the least I could do since you let me stay here last night.”

“Well, I wasn’t going to send you out into the storm.” Clark sat down at the table. His body threatened to burst into flames. Why did you look so good in his shirt?

“You could have flown me home.” Clark watched you as you made a plate for him. He almost groaned at how domestic it was. Part of him wished you could be here every morning. However, the other part of him knew you were Pete Ross’ sibling. Off limits.

Clark cleared his throat. You set the plate in front of him. “Thank you.” He dug into the food to distract himself from the racing thoughts. 

You laughed and made a plate for yourself. Clark tensed when you sat down right next to him. “So it’s still snowing outside,” you said, picking at your food.

“It is.” Clark glanced out the window at the winter wonderland outside. “I’ll have to insist you stay here.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t have to insist.” You met his eye, winking at him. “But what are we going to do all day long?”

Clark took a big bite of eggs. His heart fluttered at your wink. “I do have to write an article, but after we could...I don’t know...maybe break out that game we used to play?”

“You still have that? And you have it here?” You gasped, clapping your hands. 

“Ma sent it to me a year ago. Said I might need it.” Clark chuckled. He avoid mentioning that Ma only sent it after she found you out were moving to Metropolis. Come to think of it, Clark wondered if Ma knew something he didn’t. Then again, she always did.

You went into a story about when you all first played the game. Clark listened, remembering it himself. You, Pete, and Clark played the game for the first time in the basement of his house while there was a tornado warning. A warm fuzzy feeling came to his chest. Clark decided then and there that he would call Pete once you went home and ask him for permission to ask you out. 

[lihikainanea]

Did tiger and bill ever go through like a phase where tiger kind of had to get used to bill thinking of her? Like she wasn't really used to being someone's first choice, like someone thinking about what she might like or want. To have someone frankly just think of you. I'm sorry to be a bother. Just feeling kind of bad lately, and could use some sweet bill. Sorry again.

First of all boo, please don't ever be sorry for sliding into my DMs. I love hearing from you guys, especially if you're not doing that well. I'm all ears, and this blog is a safe space for everyone--so pull up a chair and stay awhile. I, and our two favourite idiots, would be nothing if it weren't for all the amazing asks that you guys send to me <3

Secondly, I love this train of thought because I think it is very, very true. And it probably started back at the beginning of their friendship, right? Yes, it did. Follow me down this rabbit hole.

Bill doesn't make a lot of new friends because since the whole fame thing, he has trouble trusting people--and Bill, by nature, is a caretaker. He's extremely nurturing. He provides. He takes care of those close to him, in one way or another. But he knows his own empathic side, he knows its limits and boundaries, and one of the worst things he can do for his own well being is care about too many people. Get involved with too many people. Bill is happiest amongst his close group of friends, people he knows he can trust, people he can cook dinner for and host movie nights for and fly halfway around the world when he has a premiere.

And tiger, for her part--my girl tiger, she has zero self-preservation skills. Like, none. And Bill is fascinated by that. He's fascinated by this little fireball who not only has no idea who he is, but who subsequently really couldn't give a shit once she found out. He's enamoured with this little scrappy ball of ire who is convinced not only that she can start a bar fight with everyone in the pub, but that she can legitimately win. Bill's never seen anything like it. And once you meet tiger, she's impossible not to love. Or at least, it's impossible not to be intrigued by her, and to want to know more.

But the thing is, that firecracker personality and the massive chip on her shoulder doesn't come from nowhere--tiger's been hurt a lot. And it's because she never goes for the good guys. For as much as Bill has an empath side, tiger has the self-destructive kind where she wants to fix people. And she always goes for the dudes who will take and take and take, the dudes who play rope a dope with her heart, and who leave her shattered. Tiger gives her soul away too easily, and she takes it as a challenge when she's tossed to the side by some guy who was never worth her time anyway. She tries to prove she's worthy.

But then in comes Bill--this big, wall-eyed, kind of freaky looking dude who seems nice and kind and is moderately soft spoken. And when they hang out, Bill starts showing a genuine interest--platonically, of course--but it's genuine. He asks what she does for a living. He asks if she likes it. He wants to know where she went to school, what she studied. Does she have any siblings? Because he has a lot, and he knows how tough big families can make you. When tiger can't decide if she wants the chilli fries or the chicken wings one night at a pub, Bill tells her to get both--and that's when she knew they'd be friends.

And it slowly but surely escalated from there--still all platonic at the beginning--but suddenly, Bill was asking her how she was getting home, if she needed a ride. He was asking her how her week was, when everyone got together on Friday--and if she had mentioned something big previously, a meeting or a presentation or something--he'd remember, and ask her how it went. If he left the bar early, he'd politely ask her if she could text him when she got home.

"Why?" she scoffed.

"Because somebody needs to look out for you," he answered honestly. Tiger, in true fashion, balked awkwardly.

And this is where her defence mechanism started to fly up. Because when you're not used to being cared for, when you're not used to genuinely mattering to someone or hell even just getting the attention of a truly good person--it's weird. It's awkward. It's scary as hell and requires a level of vulnerability that tiger isn't ready to let exist--because it would mean that she would have to admit to herself that she is worthy. That this is the norm, and that she deserves this. That she knowingly let herself settle for being treated like shit for so many years.

And tiger's first defence is always anger. So maybe she started getting real snippy with him, probably well into their friendship by this point--so Bill was cooking for her, and if he wasn’t then he was checking in to make sure she ate at least one vegetable that day. If she had a date, he would wait until she texted him that she was in for the night--whether that was at the guy’s place or hers. If she needed a ride home in the morning then he would pick her up, in all of her walk of shame glory--but he’d pick her up with a few Advil, some big sunglasses, a huge coffee. And he would absolutely make fun of her nefarious, ill-fated decisions but he’d always wait at least 12 hours before he dared.

But to go even further--you are absolutely right. Bill does put her first. Once she is solidified as his best friend, then there’s no going back--she comes first. And part of it is Bill really is legitimately concerned because tiger has no self preservation skills and he worries that if HE doesn’t concern himself over her, then tiger will just like...her reckless decisions will be her undoing. He must look after Little Human, because Little Human’s self-destructive streak is far too prevalent. He has left dates in the dust when she needed his help. He looks out for her in group settings, and intervenes if some idiot is getting too handsy with her. If he has a boys night that night but tiger calls crying because some idiot broke her heart, or crying because it’s shark week and she’s out of gummy bears--then Bill is there. In a heartbeat, he’s there. She comes first.

And I’ll bet it’s all very nice, but it also kind of has tiger seething. Because she’s not used to this kind of...care. The genuineness of it. And tiger can’t be vulnerable enough to admit that part of her likes it, part of her feels safe knowing that even in the wee hours of the morning, Bill is awake and waiting for her to let him know she got in safely. Part of her kind of likes this idea that someone is thinking of her, that someone prioritizes her. But it’s still tiger, so she also gets hella mad. And she seethes--for a long time, she seethes. Quietly. And then maybe it all just comes to a head one night when she goes over to Bill’s place after work and he has a crisp glass of white wine waiting for her, a change of clothes, even her favourite make up remover--the kind that doesn’t sting, because she has sensitive skin. And all of that pisses her off, but then she walks into the kitchen as he’s deftly cleaning and slicing mushrooms.

“How did it go?” he asks casually. Tiger plays dumb.

“How did what go?” she swigs her wine.

“The meeting with your boss today.”

“...Fine,” she mumbles, petulantly. Of course he’d remember that, even though she told him two weeks ago. 

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” he offers kindly. Tiger sees an errant pile of green onions on his chopping board, and she eyes them wearily but somewhat triumphantly. Bill heads to the fridge, pulls out a bowl of salad, then he tosses the green onions in. Perfect, she thinks, and it gives her a weird sense of satisfaction. Mr. Nice Guy, Mr. Considerate, doesn’t even remember what she considers to be the most significant thing about her. That she hates green onions. She feels triumphant, renewed. Somewhat weirdly comforted to confirm that perhaps she doesn’t mean that much to him.

Until he heads back to the fridge, and pulls out another bowl of salad--one that he promptly dresses, salts and peppers, and tosses. One without green onions. One for her.

“Why do you do that?!” she explodes. Bill jumps in surprise.

“Do what?” he asks innocently, “This one has no green onions!”

“Exactly,” she continues, “Ugh, Bill. Just...why do you always...ugh, Bill!”

Bill is stunned, still holding his bowl of salad, trying to figure out what exactly is happening here.

“It’s too much,” tiger says, slamming her wine down, “All of it is too much.”

“What’s too much?”

“You! This. Why do you always just....think of everything?” she says, and she’s steadfastly working herself into a tizzy.

“Tiger...”

“How? How do you remember these things? How do you fucking remember that I had a meeting with my boss today, a meeting that I told you about two weeks ago? Why do you make a whole other bowl of salad for me, why do you remember that I hate green onions?”

“Because I care about you kid,” he shrugs.

Tiger is angry, but she’s also at a loss for words. Bill’s genuineness, his honesty, will do that. For as much as she struggles to be vulnerable. Bill shows that side of himself openly. She doesn’t even know why she’s so angry. Bill watches her for a minute, but she’s kind of just bug-eyed so he goes back to his cutting board and starts calmly chopping his little mushrooms again.

“I don’t like it,” she mutters after a long pause.

“Too bad,” he shrugs non-chalantly. Tiger glares at him.

“Too bad?” she seethes.

“Too bad,” he repeats.

“Stop it,” she says.

“No.”

“Bill, I mean it. Stop always trying to--”

“No.”

“I’m not finished,” she stamps her foot, “Stop being such--”

“No.” he says again, “Tiger, this is what I do.This is how I am. I care about the people that matter to me.”

“Well I don’t ma--”

“Yes you do. You matter to me. So I suggest you put on your big girl panties, and fucking deal with it,” he says. And that’s final. Tiger is taken aback at his tone, at the way his face suddenly got serious--but then in a heartbeat, it’s relaxed again.

“Now, do you want mustard on your burger, or ketchup?” he asks. Tiger is petulantly silent, glaring at him.

“Tiger.” he warns, holding up the hamburger bun.

“Shouldn’t you already know?” she huffs in annoyance, going to the fridge and grabbing the wine. She swigs it right from the bottle as she boosts herself up on the kitchen counter. Bill goes to the fridge and grabs the mayo--her favourite--putting a thick schmear on the bun.

“God, get fucked asshole,” she mutters. Bill just grabs her face, plants a noisy kiss on her cheek as she shrieks and swats him.

[donutloverxo]

Watch

Kinktober day 27 - Exhibition

Can be read as voyeurism as well if you look at it from buckys pov lol! Should I make it a two in one? I'm flexing my writing muscles by writing mean Steve and soft Ransom!

Summary - You help your boss relieve some stress and Steve teaches Bucky a lesson.

Warnings - 18+ only, smut (m/f), name calling, mean Steve, sir kink, making Bucky watch, boss/employer relationship, sugar relationship, office sex, cockwarming, probably dub con.

Pairing - CEO!Steve Rogers x reader, Bucky Barnes x reader.

Word count - 2.8k

Masterlist is linked in the bio!

You narrowed your eyes, concentrating on your nails to get the perfect stroke of red paint on it - the color ‘berry red' Mr Rogers had picked out for you.

He pretended to be annoyed by your acrylics but you knew he had some sort of weirdly obsession or fetish about them. He loved staring at your hands, holding them so delicately in his, a stark contrast to how he had not-so-gently fucked you just minutes ago.

He absolutely loved kissing your little toes, making his way up your leg but that may just be his way of being an asshole who liked to test your patience.

The hissing sounds he’d make when you dug them in his shoulders or back was absolutely delicious. Even more so than looking at the aftermath of beautiful red marks scattered all over his back.

“Miss L/N,” you yelped, almost spilling your nail polish over your desk as you heard his voice on your intercom.

You cleared your throat before pressing the button to answer, “Yes, sir?”

“Come in here for a minute.” He rasped, his voice strain, almost as if he was holding some back.

You put your stilettos back on, carrying a note pad to write down whatever task he had for you - though you had an idea how this would go, or at least you hoped it would. Just the thought had you rubbing your thighs together.

You pushed his door open, “What can I do for you, sir?” you asked as you stood in front of him while he sat back on the leather couch, his legs wide open, his tie and coat discarded and his sleeves rolled up till his elbows. You wondered if he knew just how sexy he was. Holding up the notepad, feigning innocence and playing the part of the diligent assistant. You did sort of assist him in your own way.

“Come here and get on your knees. Help me relieve some stress.” He pushed back into the cushion as you laid the note pad on the coffee table and walked around it to him, kneeling in front of him you placed your hands on his knees.

“That’s a pretty color. Is it still wet?” he brushed his finger over your knuckle, careful not to touch your nail.

“Yes, sir.”

“Best not mess it up then.” He pressed his lips in a flat line. “I’ll have to do the work for you, like I always do. You’re such a spoiled brat you know that but it’s my own fault. I need to start being stricter with you.” He tutted as he took his cock out of his pants, pushing your head down on it.

You only grinned up at him. You couldn’t even pretend to be sorry, not when this boring slow workday just got infinitely better. You’d rather do this than take notes or attend another meeting.

You took his throbbing length in your mouth, choking as his tip hit the back of your throat, triggering your gag reflex. “Just relax your throat,” he reminded you as you swallowed around him, “remember what I taught you.”

You didn’t know the first thing about sucking cocks, especially ones that were as well-endowed as Mr Rogers'. He was uncharacteristically patient with you while he taught you and let you get used to him.

“Fuck me. That mouth of yours...” he groaned as threw his head back, holding your head down on his cock. It had taken so long to train you. But it was worth his patience when you fucked him so well with your hot mouth.

He tightened his hold on your head when you tried to pull away. He laughed as you looked up at him like a confused puppy.

“Just hold it in your mouth like that for a while till I get this work done.” He smirked as your eyes widened.

He loved testing your patience and giving you pushing your boundaries. Be it your favorite new fuzzy pink handcuffs he used to tie you to his bed, or a trip to an exotic country.

You whimpered around his length, drool dribbling down your chin onto your neck. “You can swallow if you want, sweetheart. But that’s it, if you try doing anything else you can kiss your orgasms, and that Chanel bag you’ve been whining about,” as if to prove his annoyance he rutted his hips up into your throat, making you choke on his length, “goodbye. Understood?”

You nodded and swallowed some of your dribble, you couldn’t really answer with mouth full of cock. Laying your head on his thigh, suckling around him like you would to a popsicle, he did say it was okay for you to swallow, you closed your eyes. Your mind hazy, in a state of calm you often reach when you were with him, you did vaguely hear the door open but you thought that was just your imagination.

“Holy fuck!” You snapped your eyes open as soon as you heard the foreign voice, “Sorry, Steve, um... I’ll just come back later,” You recognised the voice as Mr Rogers' best friend Bucky.

You cheeks immediately heating up upon being caught red handed. Your relationship with your boss wasn’t really a secret but it wasn’t something everyone freely talked about either. You were sure Bucky knew about it, of course he did, sir tells him everything, but that didn’t make it any less embarrassing.

“No.” Steve said gruffly as you looked up at him with your brows furrowed, holding onto your head so you wouldn’t pull away. “Come in, Bucky. I need to discuss something important with you,” getting a firm grip on your head he pulled it back only to push you back down, “Sit over there,” he instructed, nodding towards the arm chair in front of him.

Bucky had no idea what the fuck he had walked into. He was into some freaky shit, having made love to more than one person at the same time more times than he could count. Never, in his thirty something years on this earth, did he think he'd watch his childhood best friend in such a scenario.

Nevertheless, he did as he was told. Laying aback, he was transfixed by your head bobbing up and down the loud squelching noise your mouth made on Steve’s cock, he couldn’t really see it but he had caught a glimpse of it in the locker room once. He knew it’d definitely be hard to suck. You seem to be doing a pretty good job at it from what he could tell by the little, strained grunts escaping Steve’s mouth.

He adjusted his crotch to make room for his erection and then felt a blush creep up his cheeks and neck, because he really shouldn’t get excited over something like this.

“Uh, Steve, um...” he couldn’t speak, what was he supposed to say? “What? I’m, I mean...”

“What happened, Buck? I thought you’d enjoy watching my girl while she was on her knees,” he gritted, finally pulling your head off of him.

You felt butterflies somersault in your tummy at being called his. He had never done that before. You looked up at him with your big doe eyes, proud to be officially his.

“Since you don’t mind ogling her,” he spat.

Bucky sat up straight, take aback, definitely not expecting such accusations and to be caught. He thought he was subtle about it, he did look at you and touch a bit too long for it to be considered appropriate. He flirted with you a bit more than he does with others, but that was only because you flirted back. He always assumed that it was harmless. You both weren’t doing anything wrong and Steve would never find out anyway.

With the way Steve was glaring at him with his jaw clenched tight and blonde brows furrowed together, he definitely regretted it..

...or maybe he didn’t.

Not if he was going to get a show out of it.

“Steve,” he chuckled, shaking his head, “Of course I looked at her. How could I not.” He growled, looking at your direction as you made yourself small by hugging Steve’s calf - wary of his intense gaze. “Besides she’s not yours.” he smirked as Steve’s jaw dropped.

“I just fucking told you she’s mine.” he dismissed him, looking down at you.

“Making her blow you at work and buying her tacky things doesn’t make her yours. That’s not how you treat a lady or did you forget everything your ma taught you?” he stated. “Really, doll? I think you can do better than him.”

Pulling you up by slipping his hands under your arms, he manhandled you till you stood up straight, your knees wobbly and sore. “Turn around,” Steve ordered and you followed, turning towards Bucky.

This did not go as Steve had wanted it to. His plan was to scare Bucky off, but he should’ve known his best bud would not go down without putting up a fight. His hands caressed and smoothed over your sides.

He pulled up your skirt, even though you feebly tried to fight his hands off, spreading your weeping lips with his fingers he gave Bucky a nice view of your pussy. “She’s got a pretty pussy, doesn’t she?” Steve gritted, studying his friend’s face.

“She definitely does,” he replied, arousal seeping into his voice.

“Shame you’ll never get to touch it,” he taunted, pinching your clit as you keened, holding onto his wrist, your thighs quivering. “She doesn’t wear any panties because I told her so. Bet she’s not wearing a bra either, are you, baby?” he asked, he knew the answer - he could clearly see it but he wanted to show Bucky.

“No,” you let out a shaky exhale as his fingers smeared your juices around your bundle of nerves, his finger nudging at your entrance before slipping in. You tried to hold back your moans, you really did, you were on edge with someone observing you like that but you couldn’t stay quiet. Not when he played you so expertly with his fingers.

But then he withdrew his hand, giving your ass a harsh slap, “No what?”

“No - no, sir,” you heaved.

“That’s right,” he hummed, playing with the patch of hair above your mould, “Now, remove your clothes. Hurry, I don’t have all day. I’m a busy man.” He sat back, letting you do the work for a bit.

You furiously shook your head, peering at your boss over your shoulder, pleading him with your eyes.

“Let’s give Bucky here a good look at you. What’s the point of having such a pretty slut if I can show her off from time to time. I won’t ask twice.” He stated, matter-of-factly.

And because you knew what happens when you disobey him, you followed. Wiggling your hips side to side to step out of your pencil skirt. Before undoing the buttons of your silk blouse and letting it slip over your shoulders. You were about to step out of your heels - mostly because they weren't not making this ordeal any easier.

“No, keep the heels on.” Bucky said. His tone not nearly as demanding as Steve’s but you listened anyway. A part of you wanted to please him. You shifted on one foot to other, left only in your Louboutins and the tiffany’s necklace and earrings Mr Rogers had got you when you first deep throated him.

“You weren’t kidding, Rogers,” Bucky praised, unabashedly looking over your nude body, licking his lips at the sight of your hard nipples. “Play with your breasts for me, doll.” He asked. He knew he couldn’t touch them, no matter how bad he wanted to, but making you do it was the next best thing.

Your hands travelled of their own accord, holding onto your heavy breasts and the massaging them, lifting them up before you rubbed both your nipples with your fingers, “Like this, sir?” you asked, as if you didn’t know any better.

Bucky felt himself almost burst in his pants, like a goddamn teenager when you said that. “Jesus, Steve, you really hit the lottery with this one.”

“Mm-hm,” Steve hummed, easing two thick fingers into your heat, his other hand squeezed your titts, you gasped and squirmed, trying to squeeze your legs shut while letting out little mewls. “She’s so responsive too.”

“Alright, baby,” he said, pulling his fingers out of you without giving you that sweet release, no he had much better plans, “Now, you’re gonna ride my cock like the good little whore you are. Can you do that?”

“No!” you panicked.

Because: A – he was hung like a horse. It was impossible to ride him while you were on top where you could feel all of him.

And B – you weren’t sure if you wanted to do that in front of another man, even if the idea sounded tempting, there’s no way you could perform under that kinda pressure.

Steve made a ‘tch' sound, shaking his head despondently “You’re making me look bad, princess,” he sighed.

“I - I’m just nervous,” you made the mistake of looking over to Bucky, the huge budge in his pants and his lust blown eyes and making you shiver.

“Don’t forget, slut, you wanted this.” He reminded you.

You clenched your eyes shut. You did. You had asked for a threesome with Bucky, because fuck he was almost as hot as your man, and Mr Rogers had spanked you raw as punishment. You weren’t able to sit for an entire week after that. You knew he wouldn’t say yes and were anticipating some sort of punishment so it was a win-win for you. You never thought he’d take your request seriously.

“I did,” you agreed.

Taking a deep breath, you held Bucky’s gaze, there nothing to be scared of or to be intimidated by, it was just Bucky, he seems to be the one who is taken with you. You hold the power here.

You lowered yourself till you were hovering over his hard cock, gripping the base of it and easing it into your cunt. Your movements slow and deliberate. If you did it properly there was no reason for it to hurt.

You sighed when he was fully sheathed inside you, putting most of your weight on his thighs and leaning back till his front was flush against your naked back.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight, no matter how many times I fuck you,” he rambled, drawing patterns on your clit as you wailed, the sensations wrecking havoc on your, already sore pussy. “Move, sweetheart,” he tapped on your hip, his tongue peeking out to lick a tear off your cheek.

You nodded and sniffled, you didn’t even realise you had started crying. Holding onto his upper thighs for support and looking back at Bucky you pull yourself up just a little bit while Bucky palms his cock through his dark jeans.

You set a steady pace, your breath hitching every time his head brushed against your cervix. Your titts bouncing in tandem with your hips.

“Such a good girl,” Steve kept praising you, trying his best to hold back his climax, there was no way he was going before you. Pressing kisses on your back, which was covered with a sheen of sweat, “You’re so good at doing what you’re told, baby, just a little more. Are you almost there?” he cooed.

You nodded, Bucky, your sir, everything around you slipped into a abyss as your orgasm washed over you.

He rutted his hips into yours, his sac slapping against your ass as filled you up with his spend as your pussy flutter around him. It didn’t take long for Bucky to follow, releasing in his pants soiling his briefs and his jeans. His groaning pulling Steve out of his haze.

Calling out your name, he pressed a kiss to your jaw, “Your work here is done. Go back to your desk, I have an important meeting with Bucky. You can take off early, I’ll see you at home.” He told you. “And you better not clean yourself up. I want you full you of my cum so you remember who the fuck you belong to.”

“Bu – but it’ll slip out! There’s so much of it!”

“Then you clench that pussy real tight.” He ordered you as you nodded, pulling his soft cock out of you, you contracted your muscles so none of his cream would spill.

Slipped your skirt and blouse on you headed for the door before coming back and collecting your note pad, “Oopsie,” you giggled, feeling their eyes on your behind as you swayed your hips and walked back to your desk.

You typed away at your desk and waiting for the day to be over. Maybe you could convince Steve to eat his cum out of you. If you could get him to give you an almost threesome you can definitely make him do that.

Tags will be in the reblog! Click the link in the bio to be join the taglist or shoot me an ask/dm.

Comments and reblogs are really appreciated! ❤ dividers by @whimsicalrogers

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!

[wicked-hg]

Empire || o.w.

This is a part of @iliveiloveiwrite​ song fic challenge.

Oliver Wood x reader

Song prompt: Empire by Elle Henderson

Summary: Oliver has an interview with a quidditch reporter who wants to know more about the “quidditch empire” he has built. Oliver reflects on the life he has built with Y/N.

WC: 3.9k

A/N: I am so excited to finally post this! I’ve been working on it for a while and it went longer than I thought it would, but that’s okay. I hope you all enjoy it. Please please please check out the song! I tried to keep it in mind writing this, but overall it is just a fantastic song and one of my favorites. I found the below image when looking for an Oliver Wood gif, and this was so cute!!!! Plus it goes with the story. Italics are the interview.

“Mr. Wood, thank you for sitting down with us,” the reporter greeted. “I know many people are dying to know more about you and your growing quidditch empire.”

“Empire?” Oliver chuckled. “I wouldn’t call what I ‘ave an empire.”

“What would you call it then? You are a renowned quidditch player and now a coach for Puddlemere United. Your wife was a former strategist for the Pride of Portree and is the granddaughter of Kennilworthy Wisp and Devlin Whitehorn. You also have seven children. If that isn’t a quidditch empire, then what is it.”

“Me family,” Oliver answered. “Aye, me wife comes from two great lineages and aye quidditch did bring us together, but I love her for so much more than that. Quidditch was only an excuse to talk to her. It isn’t our relationship.”

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

You had friends at Hogwarts. There were people who enjoyed your company. They were always there to talk quidditch to you, but that was about it. Once you tried switching the subject they suddenly had to go work on homework that had already been turned in. You knew though captains of quidditch teams didn’t lie that they wanted to be your friend. They were straightforward that they wanted your analysis of their team, and the other teams, and what strategies they should use to be successful. Each one came on the same day at the same time like clockwork. Today was Wednesday. That meant Oliver Wood would find her around 6:55. Oliver was the one captain who would seek you out no matter where you were in the castle. You had to always be in the same place for the others. 

The clock chimed 7:00 when Oliver found you today. “You’re five minutes later than normal, Wood,” you commented. 

Oliver shrugged as he sat next to you. “I knew you’d be here, but I wasn’t sure how loud it would be,” Today’s spot was the clock tower. “So I wanted to wait until after the clock rang.”

You sat in silence. Usually you jumped quickly into the quidditch talk, but Oliver sat silently. “You alright, Wood? You’re quiet today. You play Hufflepuff next week if I recall. I wouldn’t really worry about them. They’ve had a devastating losing streak so far. Their beaters aren’t doing well. They’ve been on injury rotation. Fleet also doesn’t have your skills.”

Oliver smiled. “Me skills? You notice I’m quite skilled, Y/N?”

You tried to keep yourself from blushing. Something was different about how he said this. “Of course I do, Wood. I’m Hogwarts residential quidditch analyst.”

“Oliver,” he said. You glanced at him, confused. “Call me Oliver. Not Wood.”

You nodded. “Okay then...Oliver.” Silence washed back over the two of you. “Do you have any other questions? Or do you want info about the new Nimbus? The rest have wanted that.”

Oliver shook his head. “Why don’t you play? Every house goes to you for advice, yet you don’t even play for your own. Why is that?”

No one had ever asked you that. In fact, no one had ever asked any questions about you yourself. “I used to when I was younger with my siblings. I have six older ones.”

“Me too,” Oliver said. “Poppy, Daisy, Juniper, Ivy, Violet, and Flora. They thought I was gon’ be a girl. When it turned out I was a boy, I was named Oliver instead of Olive. That way all they had to do was add an ‘r’ to everything. Sorry for interrupting you. The Weasleys are the only other ones I know with a family of seven siblings.”

You smiled. “It’s alright. Sounds like your family went for a theme.” Oliver nodded. “I think that’s cool. My parents didn’t. I’m the youngest. I have four brothers—Dorian, Finnigan, Simon, and Leon—and two sisters—Evangeline and Benjamina.”

“So you played quidditch with them. Why not anymore?”

“I got hit in the head with a bludger,” you told him. I know that happens a lot to players, but I was about five. Gramps and PopPop were fighting again. They don’t get along at all, and my parents were out celebrating their anniversary. I don’t know why they had those two watching us instead of just picking one. Granny and Nan were trying to calm them down. We were playing quidditch on PopPop’s prototype of the Nimbus 1650.”

“Nimbus 1650? I’ve never heard of that one.”

“That’s because it was never released to the public. It had too many flaws. Anyway, I played seeker. It’s how I learned to analyze patterns besides listening to Gramps. The bludger hit me upside the head and as I fell it hit me again in the jaw. Honestly though, it felt like two hits to the head because my head was the size of a bludger back then. I couldn’t get on a broom after that. I tried. I tried so many times. I just was never able to fly. The brooms wouldn’t listen. Besides, the healer says one more bludger to the head will kill me.”

“We can’t have that then. I’ll get ya on a broom, but I’m not letting ya anywhere near a bludger.” You grinned at his comment. “You belong in the air though. Every time I find you, you're usually high up. The wind will be blowing through your hair soon enough. I promise.”

“You can’t make promises like that, Oliver.”

Oliver shushed you. “Tomorrow. We start tomorrow at this time on the pitch. You’re not meant to be caged, Y/N. Let me help you fly free.”

“What makes you think that you will be the one to do so?” You asked him, trying not to gain any hope from Oliver’s promise. Your family had done everything they could. How could Oliver be successful?

He smiled and grabbed your hand. “I won’t let you fall. I’ll catch you. Do you trust me?”

There was a fire in his eyes now. He had hope he could do this, and you did too. “Absolutely.”

—————

“And what about having seven children? A quidditch team is made up of seven players. One could assume you are breeding your own quidditch team.”

“Well, one can assume all they want. The truth is, life just happened this way. Y/N and I both came from large families; both of us are the youngest of seven. We were fine having that many kids. Just know though there aren’t any more Wood children coming,” Oliver grinned. “And don’t believe that rumor that all of our kids are named after types of wood unknowingly or fun. It was the result of losing a series of bets.”

“What?”

“What?”

The reporter paused in thought. “Oh my Merlin. Your children are all named after types of wood. You did that on purpose? Because of bets?”

Oliver blinked. “No…”

“But you just said—” Oliver stared at the reporter, daring him to continue. “So when did people pick up on it?”

—————

He was so small. Granted, Rowan and Willow had been too. Perhaps he was bigger than them though. He was definitely louder. “He’s got quite the lungs to him,” you murmured to Oliver as you handed him your new son. “Rowan and Willow were quiet and pensive. He’s loud and ready to fight. Has been since the womb. Hopefully the bruises will go away now.”

This third babe had been a handful—constantly moving and kicking the bruises actually began to appear on your abdomen. “Reckon he’ll be a beater if he plays some day,” You chuckled in agreement with your husband. “Hello there, Al. Glad you’re finally here. Your brother and sister are so excited to meet you.”

“Al,” you sighed lovingly, “I like it. Al Wood. Is it short for anything?”

“Alder.”

“Alder. That’s nice,” Silence washed over the room until your eyes flew open. “Alder? Did you just say Alder? As in the tree? Oliver, is our son named Alder Wood?”

“Yes…”

“Rowan and Willow are going to ma—” Realization hit you. “Rowan and Willow. Rowan Wood. Willow Wood. Oliver Wood, are our children named after types of trees? Have you named our children after types of trees when I am in a state of fatigue after birthing them?”

“Yes and no,” he replied. He carefully held the newborn close to his chest. “All of these names I suggested to you when we discussed it, and you liked them. I just suggested them in a different light. Rowan is a good Scottish name, and Willow is an old English name and a well respected magical tree. Alder...I don’t think I ever did mention Alder to you. I was hoping to get away with that one.”

You reached for your son. Looking down at him, you couldn’t imagine him being named anything else. “I can’t imagine him being anything else now. If we have more children, we will discuss this first. I just didn’t realize you so desperately wanted a theme. I thought you hated the name theming after your parents have done it to you and your sisters.”

“I do!” Oliver argued. 

“Then why name our children after types of wood and trees?”

Oliver sighed. He knew there was no lying to you anymore. “I lost a bet back in Hogwarts to Weasley.”

You sighed. “I’m gonna yell at George when I get out of here. I can’t imagine our children being named anything different now, but still. I don’t care if it was his or Fred’s fault.”

“Actually it was Percy.”

—————

“You were married right before hell broke loose in the Second Great Wizarding War, and if I recall you even participated in it.”

“Aye. I did. Many witches and wizards in the league did once it got shut down in ‘97.”“Did this affect you and your wife?”

“Of course it did. It affected everyone. Plus we were still young and so was Rowan.”

“Rowan?”

“Me eldest boy. How did you not know that? I would’ve thought you’d know the names of me kids the way you’ve been going on.”

The reporter shrugged as he jotted this all down in his notebook. 

——————

Oliver had done what he could to help the light in the war, but his priority was his family. He had a wife and a son now. His wife was also expecting their second child. He laid down next to his wife. “Rowan’s fast asleep,” he whispered. “He went down quickly tonight.”

You smiled as you snuggled into him. “She’s being quiet tonight too.”

He smiled and glanced down at your protruding belly. “How do you know it’s a she?”

“I just do,” You were quiet for a moment before asking, “Oliver, do you ever regret how we did things?”

Everything was on track for you and Oliver when you graduated. You had both taken big jobs in the world of quidditch. You were young and everyone knew your names. Then in the late spring of 1995 you found out a baby was on the way. Rowan was born that December. A year and a half later you two finally got married in the early summer of 1997. Now in May of 1998 you were almost 8 months pregnant with the second baby Wood.

“I will never ever regret us or our kids,” he told you. “This is I guess just how it was meant to be. Do I wish that the world was safer for them? Absolutely. I wish we would’ve had more time to fight to give them a better world. I will do anything to make sure they don’t live under these conditions. I hope every day that Rowan doesn’t remember living in a time of such fear and chaos.”

“I am terrified, Olli,” you admitted.

“Me too,” he agreed, “But I will always be here to protect you. No one will destroy what we have created.” 

Hours later he was summoned to Hogwarts for one last battle. You waited for him to return. When Rowan woke, you acted as if everything was normal. “Daddy just had to go take care of some business,” you told Rowan when he asked about Oliver. An owl from St Mungo’s arrived close to bedtime. You flooed your mother to stay with your son as you rush to the hospital. Oliver, with his confunded eye, grinned at you. He had a gash on his forehead and was covered in dirt, yet he smiled because they had won.

——————

“So did helping in the war aid your career at all?”

“That’s a stupid question.”

“I just didn’t know if it helped your skills.”

“My skills are and were fine both prior and after the war.”

—————

“Sweetheart, I think you need to get your sight checked out,” You told Oliver one morning before he headed off to practice. “You’re missing more shots on your right, even though you’re right handed. People are starting to pick up on that.”

“I still catch the quaffle,” Oliver muttered. “That’s what matters.”

“I didn’t say you didn’t. I’m just saying your reaction time is slower and more have been slipping through. You know, as an analyst for an opposing team I shouldn’t even be telling you this.”

Oliver sighed. “That’s the eye.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh. I forgot it was the right one. I thought you got it healed?”

During the Battle of Hogwarts, Oliver had taken a confundus charm to the eye. For a while his eye was completely confounded and unable to focus. Eventually the healers were able to resituate it back to normal; however, Oliver’s vision had not quite yet returned back to normal.

“It can still get a bit blurry and spinny.”

“You need to talk to the coaches, Oliver. That can be a danger for you,” you said. You wrapped your arms around him. “I don’t want you to get hurt. I know you will overcome this and learn to play with it, but I need you safe. You have a family to come home to.”

Oliver nodded and hugged you. “I promise, leannan. I promise.”

—————

“Was there ever tension or conflict when you played the Pride?”

Oliver shrugged. “Y/N and I had a deal. We would note interfere between Puddlemere and the Pride of Portree. Teams have multiple strategists, and while, aye, she was their main one there were others to take care of handling strategies against Puddlemere. As for me, in my entire career, I never played a game against them—even after she retired and took over the broom business. The main keeper during my early years and reserve in my later years always played.”

“Seriously? Not even after she retired? You could’ve. It would’ve just furthered your career.”

“Perhaps, but I also knew that if I did it would make me wife choose between her husband and the team she grew to love. I couldn’t do that to her. Plus it kept me in shape.”

————

You saw Oliver walk down the stairs carrying your newborn girls and Al clinging to his back. “I thought you had a game today,” you asked as he set Al down and tried to put Holly and Hazel into the highchairs. Rowan and Willow followed behind them.

“”Play quidditch, daddy?” Willow asked. “We go watch a game?”

“Puddlemere plays Portree today. I never play against them.” Oliver sat down and started to feed the twins breakfast.

“But, Oliver,” you said confused, “That was when I worked for them. I don’t work for them anymore. You can play if you want to.”

He shook his head. “Today is for us.”

“Us? Like you and mum or the whole family?” Rowan asked.“

The whole family,” Oliver answered. “I’ve gone this long not playing Portree. No reason to start now. Besides, the team means so much to you, Y/N. I can’t put you between them and me. It’ll be a good day for us all to hang out too. Be a proper family.”

You smiled as you set the rest of breakfast in front of your children and helped Al get his food while WIllow and Rowan snatched theirs up. “That actually sounds amazing. Thank you, Oliver. Anything in mind for us to do today?”

“Perhaps the beach? The sun is out for once.”

“You just want to even out your tan line,” Rowan chuckled. Oliver glared at his son, knowing he was absolutely correct.

————

“You could’ve had another few years to your career. Why did you retire? Your retirement came before your predecessor’s exit.”

Oliver thought for a moment, wondering if he should tell the whole truth. “I was a father to six. I had just found out Reed was going to be born—“

“Is Reed your sixth kid?”

“No he’s the seventh and final.”

“Can you tell me who all your kids are. I’m getting them confused.”

Oliver huffed. “In order there is: Rowan, Willow, Alder, we call him Al, the twins, Holly and Hazel, followed by Ash, and ending with Reed.”

“One more time.”

Oliver sighed. He couldn’t take much more of this. “Rowan, Willow, Alder, Holly, Hazel, Ash, and Reed.”

The reporter finished writing those down. “Got it.”

“As I was saying, I had just found out my youngest child was on the way and I had also found out some other news.”

————

“Pregnant?”

You nodded. “I know we hadn’t planned this. It’s kid number seven,” You sat down next to him. “Oh Merlin, it’ll be our seventh child. We’re going to have a full team, Oliver. Al starts Hogwarts next year. Willow is starting her second year this year. Rowan takes his OWLS this year! The twins just started nursery school. Ash is finally no longer scared of the loo.”

“I’m going to retire,” Oliver said suddenly.

“What?” you gasped. “Oliver, darling, you don’t need to do that. Dorian and I run PopPop’s business just fine. You don’t need to give up your career. We support you. I support you.”

Oliver kissed your cheek and rested his hand against your stomach. “I’m almost 40, Y/N. I’ve been missing goals at practice for a while. Coach sent me to a healer during practice. There’s no more quidditch for me. Too many bludgers to the head. We make quite the pair. They found that part of my brain is swollen. I have to have treatment for a few more weeks and I’ll be good as new.”

You threw your arms around him and held him close. “Oh Oliver. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Didn’t want you to worry. I didn’t want you to act differently in front of the kids. I found out all the details today though. I’m telling Coach tomorrow.”

“I can’t believe you have to do this, Oliver.”

He smiled and kissed your forehead. “I’m getting old anyway. This was going to happen eventually. I missed parts of my kids' lives because of quidditch. No more of that.”

“They’ll be heartbroken, you know.”

Oliver nodded. “What about you?”

“I just want you safe and happy. I will always support your choice. I can’t lose you, Oliver. You’re silly to think I’d ever let you near a bludger again now.”

Oliver chuckled remembering his promise to you all those years ago. “Poor Al. No more bludgers for the Woods. We’re gonna need to find a place to send him.”

“I ran into an old classmate of ours. She’s married to Marcus Fli—”

“I’m not sending me son to play with a bludger at Marcus Flint’s place! I’d rather take him to Weasley!”

————

Oliver watched the reporter go with a smile on his face. That was the last one. He couldn’t handle continuously doing those. His agent was right; he just needed to write a damn book. 

“Is the reporter done?”

Oliver turned and his smile became a grin as he kissed you. “Aye. Thank Merlin too. That was an imbecile. I’m gonna have to write that book so I don’t have to deal with any more of them.”

You grinned and hugged him. “I told you so. Come on now, sweetheart. They’re all waiting for you.”

“Can you believe Al is off to Hogwarts tomorrow?”

You shook your head as you snuggled into him. “That leaves us with four though. We’re not quite at an empty nest, Oliver.”

“I know. It’s just,” Oliver paused. “As I answered questions I just thought back to different moments in our life. Did you ever think we’d get here? That we’d build this...this...this empire of ours?”

You smiled. “I always hoped. I couldn’t imagine living my life with anyone else. Though our life is full of quidditch, in so, so many ways, you still made sure it was about so much more than that. Now come Oliver. Our little empire is ready to eat dinner.”

————---------

“Are we almost there?” You asked Oliver. “I feel like we’ve been walking forever. Why couldn’t we have just apparated?”

Oliver chuckled as he gripped your hand tighter to make sure he didn’t lose you as you climbed higher on the hill. “That would ruin the magic of it all, leannan.”

“Can you give me any clues, Oliver? Besides the fact it must be a decent spot for a picnic,” You glanced down at the picnic basket in your hand. When Oliver had invited you to his home, you were excited. Never before had you been to his family home in the highlands. You had met his family at his sisters’ homes. “You know the only thing I know about the highlands is that you are from here, and you don’t even live here anymore!”

“We’re almost there anyway,” he answered. “This is a place me dad took me mum when they were like us. When I told them about you, he brought me in case you were my gu bràth. We’re in the midst of Loch Katrine. It can be a popular place for muggle photographers to come take photos but they’re quite intimidated by this mountain, thanks to magic.”

Oliver helped you climb up a few more meters. You saw the giant grin on his face. This must be someplace special. He was just as excited as if they were about to jump right into a game of quidditch. You set the basket down and felt his hand squeeze yours. “Look at it, leannan. It’s beautiful.”

Finally you turned to join him, and he wasn’t wrong The area of Loch Katrine was gorgeous as the leaves had started to change. “This is beautiful, Oliver. It is absolutely gorgeous here.”

His smile grew and he pulled you closer. Your head rested on his chest and listened to the sound of his beating heart. Afterwhile he whispered, “I have found strength in your arms. We have built the foundation for an amazing love, and you will always rule my heart. Nobody can or will ever destroy what we have.”

You burrowed closer into his chest and felt his arms wrap around you more. Oliver had always been a ray of hope, and you knew he would continue to be one for you. You knew, you could feel your relationship growing in many ways at that moment. You hoped to Merlin, as you looked across the Scottish highlands in the arms of the man you loved, that someday you would build an indestructible empire with him. It is what you both deserved.