#having Billy praising his responsibility sense

[uu-tella]

Full panel under the cut

[bisexual-horror-fan]

Bexxx my darling. We’ve had the conversation, are horny for the concept so I’m pounding this into the ask box even harder than they’re gonna pound the damn reader.

AU!Billy, Stu, Mickey and Ethan x reader. All alive or as Ghosts whichever is best. All of them going full blown slut on the reader, Stu in the mouth, Billy in the cunt, Mickey in the ass and Ethan in the hand (until he’s not *wink*) . We’ve discussed a lot of it already so GIRL, I know how you’re going to go with this. In advance, poor, sweet Ethan, slutty teasing Billy, supportive icon Stu and Mickey with the GUIDING. I’m going to burst into flames.

I LOVE YOU DUDE!

BITCH, I LOVE YOU! I wrote this all tonight in one sitting, I hope you all enjoy this! Billy AND Stu AND Mickey AND Ethan?! I mean, say fucking less, that is a dream I need to experience. Multi-May continues! I hope you all love this straight-up nasty smut in the afterlife.

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Rating. Explicit. Length. 1.2K. Poly!Ghostface. Billy Loomis/Stu Macher/Mickey Altieri/Ethan Landry/AFAB! Dead Victim Reader! She/Her Pronouns. Warnings: Five-Some. Orgy. Hair Pulling. Gagging. Group Sex. Hand Job. Oral Sex. Blow Job. Triple Penetration. Vaginal Sex. Throat Fucking. Anal Sex. Pre-Mature Ejactualation. Sloppy Seconds. Multiple Orgasms.

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"Four In One."

You have never been so fucking full. It was taken right out of your most depraved and wild fantasies, an impossibility and yet here you were, mouth, cunt, ass and one of your hands full.

In the vague haze of your mind, you are reminded of a phrase for being in this exact situation, that being “completely airtight”. 

Some people might think that sex in the afterlife is not a thing, however it was one of the most beloved pass times, you have no physical limitations and nothing but time, it only makes sense. 

You being a victim that had fallen to Ghostface most would assume you’d hate them. You did at one point. Eternity is a long fucking time, though. 

So you got involved with the man who killed you and a few other previous Ghostface’s? It was your business, you were dead, you didn’t care if any other victims or whoever judged you, especially when it felt this fucking good. 

They had managed to get you into a good position, and with all of them helping, you didn’t need to worry about holding yourself up, which is good because you were fucking boneless. 

Billy was buried in your cunt, Stu was in your mouth, Mickey was in your ass, and you had a firm grip on Ethan. The smell was heady, the chorus of moans and skin on skin was obscene, and you were unable to stay still, being pushed and pulled in multiple directions, covered in sweat and thankful for the fact you didn’t have to worry about breathing. 

Stu was pulling your hair, dragging you nearer, your nose pressed to coarse hair, his head tipping back with a moan, “Fuck yes, when you swallow around the head it feels fucking fantastic-” He pulled harder, and you gagged, you didn’t really, but you knew Stu liked when you did, so you mimic it, you feel him throb on your tongue and Billy groans. 

“When she gags she clenches beautifully, man.” He breathed and Mickey agreed, “God yeah, she feels fucking perfect tonight.” 

You are soaking up the praise, pleasure sinking into the very marrow of your bones, you manage to open your eyes, curious why Ethan was being so quiet, and he is staring right at you and oh no. The poor boy. His curls are sweat soaked, bottom lip tugged by his teeth, face flushed, and it is spreading down to his chest, when your eyes lock he moans, he is pulsing in your hand and Stu notices the moment you, and he were sharing. 

“You alright there, Eth?” Stu asked, and the response came out strained, “Feels so good, too fuckin’ good, sh-she looks and God, how she sounds, I-I dunno if I can make it-”

Billy cuts in, his hips slowing, “Oh hey man, you gotta wait till you get in one of her holes at least.” 

You nod as much as you are able to with Stu’s hand in your hair and his dick down your throat, you wanted that, you desperately wanted Ethan to cum in one of your holes, Hell you wanted all of them to cum either in you or on you, it was a deep and clawing craving that was refusing to leave. 

Mickey’s pace was getting sloppy, he was thrusting harder and harder, faster and being totally selfish in the way only he can be when he is close, fully worried with chasing his own release, you say a silent prayer, happy that your ass could take the punishment he was doling out. “Fuck, fuck, you won’t have to wait long, Ethan.”

Mickey thrusts inside you three more times and then holds deep as he unloads inside of you with an utterance of your name. The rush of heat makes you choke and moan on Stu’s shaft with a shudder. 

You stop stroking Ethan, worried that he is going to cum, your hand grips the base of his shaft tightly to ensure he wouldn’t spill over quite yet.

Mickey stays in you for a moment, barely grinding his hips, milking the aftershocks and every ounce of pleasure out of his orgasm. You feel his head tip, his forehead rests on your shoulder, you feel the press of his lips, a kiss, sweet, before he pulls out with a groan, and spreads you, he can see your wrecked looking hole, slowly leaking his cum. 

Mickey looks over your body still being rocked between Billy and Stu, and he says easily, “Get over here, Ethan.” 

You let go of him, and he practically scrambles to get behind you, almost falling over the tangle of the other boys limbs on the way. Stu and Billy laugh, Mickey shaking his head, “Bless him.”

“So cute.” Stu confirms. 

Billy holds still and motions for Stu to do the same, “Ease up while he gets in there.” 

The blonde complies and they all watch, Ethan’s hands rest on your ass, and he looks adorably nervous, he is practically shaking, breathing erratic, he looks painfully hard and is leaking so much pre-cum. It’s like he is almost rooted to the spot, staring down at your slowly leaking hole. You push on Stu’s hip, and he allows it, pulls out of your mouth, and you look over your shoulder at him, you clear your throat before saying, “C’mon Ethan, please?”

He curses quietly, and then you watch Mickey come up behind him, one hand on Ethan’s hip and the other reaches around him, grips the base of his cock and says, “Lemme help you out.” 

Ethan almost jumps out of his skin, tenses but gives a single nod once, consenting with more than the action, he begs, “Please, yes, I-I want to so bad but, I can’t-.” 

“I know man, it’s alright, I got you.” Mickey soothed, and he pushes forward on Ethan’s hip, his other hand guiding Ethan’s cock, the blunt head presses to your nearly raw and well lubed hole. When the tip breaches Ethan comes back to himself, fingers dig into ample flesh, and he pushes, you moan and encourage him, “Fuck yes, please-”

Mickey lets go, his grin is positively wolfish as he watches the show unfold. 

Ethan curses again, and he shoves in roughly, about halfway before pulling out, the poor guy only gets less than ten pumps in, not even fully inserted, before he is cumming with a strangled cry, body a quaking, sweat slicked mess. He is apologizing over and over, gasping for breath, “M’ sorry, fuck, sorry, sorry, felt too fuckin’ good, couldn’t stop it-”

“S’ okay.” You reassure as he pulls out, “You’ll last longer next time.” 

Billy is laughing and starting to thrust into you again, “Fuckin’ pathetic, man.”

Stu shoved Billy’s shoulder and said, “Oh lay off, you didn’t last much longer first time you got in that ass.” 

You giggled, “He’s right, you know.” Stu taps your cheek and says, “Open up.”

Mouth falling open in compliance, he re-inserts, you still had to get the last two off and were eager to do so. You can hear Ethan trying to defend himself to Mickey, “I could feel Billy in her pussy when I was in there, and it was too much!”

“The extra friction will get you, it’s true.” Mickey sympathizes, and you suppress a laugh, trying to focus on sucking the dick in your mouth and moving your hips in time with Billy’s thrusts. 

[ririblogsss]

Ive been in a mood to write angst but I keep writing happy endings

So I read this fic ill link it when I remember the name, its basically a Suaci_al teen goes on a roadtrip before you know. But Damian escaped his mother and wanted to go meet his father, so he entered this teens van and accompanied her, and basically had a whole jurney together with each other so they could take Damian to gotham.

Anyways I got inspired by it, and thought what if the bat burger explosion still happened, but Danny decided he was more scared of becoming Dan. So he grabbed Sam's car and left Amity. During his drive he decided to honor Dani (who also passed) by going to each state before he went to the realms and locked himself in one of the darkest corners so he would never hurt anyone.

But when he was going through Philadelphia specifically he stumbles upon 2 teenagers fighting to the death arguing in front of a basically destroyed street. Danny mentally tells himself "not my crircus not my monkeys" over and over. But then he hears they are both child heroes, and he basically says 'FUCK IT WE BALL'.

Danny goes up to them and ask them if they need help with helping people out of the debris and the kids glare but relent. Cause they do need help in rescuing anyone that's in the debris.

As they finish rescuing everyone and taking them to the hospital if they need it or giving them to paramedics. They introduce each other. The younger being Billy batson (Aka Shazam) and Damian Wayne (AKA Robin) .The kids try to deny they are child heroes, but Danny just tells them he is also a hero and transforms, so they can trust him.

Apparently both Billy and Damian were sent to a nearby school to make sure nothing illegal was happening, but things got out of hand, as they always do. They bond over burgers (a veggie for Damian) and smoothies. The three fight about were the best burgers come from, Danny saying that the Best were from nasty (he gets a hazy look in his eyes when he mentions the joint). Damian argues that the bat burger are the most acceptable (high praise apparently). Billy argued for Big Belly.

In the end they parted ways, but Danny didn't know that both Billy and Damian snuck into his car. Look they didn't want to face the consequences of going against orders just yet. They had failed to tell Danny they hadn't actually been officially sent for the recon they sent themselfs.... oops

Look normally Danny would have been able to sense them or even notice the weird way his things were shifting every few minutes. But Danny wasn't in his right mind. He wasn't copping with his loss and grief as he should (not that there is a right way to grief) but Danny wasn't himself, so it wasn't until he got to savannah as a pit stop that he noticed the 2 extra passangers.

the interaction went something like this:

Billy: Can we stop now. I need to pee!

Danny: HOLy SHHH MaCaRONi!! (swearing the car almost causing a car accident)

Damian: Your spacial awareness skills need refining. But given your current position is understandable.

Danny: MY current position/?

Billy: Hahahaha about that you mutter and speak to yourself out loud a lot.

Damian: yes and clearly you are under no position to be making decision. So we are taking responsibility about your well being.

Billy: ahahahaha yeah no other reason, its not like our adopted father who is also our vigilante boss is currently hunting us down for disobeying not at all hahahahaha.

Danny: What the FU-dge stick

thus commences the road-trip of hell. Somehow Billy and Damian were able to convince Danny of bringing them along and trying to avoid the Big Bat.

[thema-nr-2]

so I can’t stop rereading can’t do it alone, and I might need another part to it, like right when he gets off the tour, and he meets reader at her house, and is literally so excited to just feel her around him, and to taste her again, he just can’t help himself. you don’t have to do this request I just want it but if you don’t want to it’s your choice anyway

cant do it alone (pt 2) - B.K

✮ synopsis - a part two to this fic, Bill is finally off tour and gets to see his precious girlfriend again. But he can’t help himself but be all over her!!! 🎀

✮ genre - fluff to smut i guess?

✮ word count - 1.3k (kinda slow burn imo i’m a major in yapology)

✮ content warning - kissing, pet names, praise, fem!reader, sub!bill, dom!reader, oral (f receiving) very slight degrading, face sitting, bill gets hard 😞, begging

✮ a/n - man i need to start being normal

BILL’S POV:

God, it was finally over. This long, gruelling, overwhelming tour was finally over. It was only a few months, but being away from Y/N felt like a genuine eternity. It was so hard to go even a single night without missing her, needing her arms around me and her soft voice whispering sweet nothings in my ear. But now I can finally see her again after all that time spent “bringing the mood down” as Tom would say. It’s not my fault he can’t hold a relationship for more than one night.

I wasted absolutely no time in driving straight to Y/N’s house. I didn’t even bother to unpack at my own home. I had my priorities set, and she was at the top of my list right now. I stepped up to her door and knocked loudly. I glance nervously at my phone; 2:40 am. “I hope I’m not waking her up…” I think to myself. I had left her a text letting her know I was home and on my way, but it looks like she didn’t see it. To be fair, it was at 1 am.

2ND PERSON POV:

As he patiently waited for your response, your head slowly rose up as you heard knocking. You sit confused for a moment, who would be here at such an hour… then it hit you. Could it be? Your boyfriend is finally home??? You immediately jump out of bed, not bothering to even get dressed, and raced down to the front door to greet the love you had oh so missed.

The door swings open so fast you were scared you’d break its hinges. Both of your faces light up as your eyes lock.

“BILLY!! YOU’RE HOME!!”

“Oh, schatz, I’ve missed you so much!” Bill sighs. His arms wrap around your waist as he pulls you into a deep kiss. Your hands snake around the back of his neck as you stand up on your tip toes to reach the tall boy. The kiss feels like it lasts forever, you’re both lost in your own fantasies having not seen each other for months.

You finally pull away for air, panting ever so quietly. Not just out of shortness of breath, but excitement and anticipation. “Are you gonna stay the night, Bill?” You ask.

“Well I may as well.” He replies, gesturing to a clock on your wall.

“Well, I’m gonna go back to bed, so feel free to join me whenever you’re ready.” You give him a warm smile, and a final kiss on the cheek before returning upstairs to your room. Bill, eager to join you, dumped his luggage and quickly retrieved a comfy t-shirt and some shorts to sleep in.

As he opened the door to you room, he noticed you were already lying in bed, but you were still very much awake. “What’s wrong, baby?” He asked.

“Nothing, I’m just… so happy to see you again, my heart is buzzing!”

Bill climbed into bed and lied next to you, his eyes never leaving yours. “Trust me I’m just as excited as you, it feels like it’s been forever, no?”

“I know right…”

As you turn over to your side, you feel that familiar warm sense of safety wrap around you. As bill held you, you felt truly happy again.

But bill couldn’t help himself but be all over you. Your natural scent, the feeling of your warm skin against his, the smell of your freshly washed hair, so many overwhelming thoughts of all the things he wished you could do to him while he was away, it was all too much for the poor baby… as he and you lay together in silence, you were interrupted from your almost sleep with the feeling of something poking you.

“Bill, that better be your hand.” You say bluntly, rolling your eyes.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, liebe, I didn’t mean to… I just missed you so much and-“

You cut him off by turning around to face him, your expression dangerous. “And…?” You wait for him to finish.

“And I need you… badly…”

“Hmm, what do good boys say to get what they want?”

“Please… Y/N please it’s been months, I haven’t been able to get off properly since that call and it’s driving me insane…” God, his begging was like music to your ears. You could listen to him whine and plea for you all night, and still not give him what he wants.

“I don’t know if you deserve it yet, baby.” You sigh a sigh of fake disapproval as you threaten to turn your back to him, to which he immediately turns you back around.

“Yes, baby I do.. I’ll prove it to you..”

“And how would you do that, sweet boy?”

He hesitated for a moment. A little bit of stunned silence, because he thought you would just give in, so now he had to think of something quickly. “Sit on my face.” He finally said.

You cocked your head to the side and raised an eyebrow. “Oh? That’s what my baby wants?”

“Only if you want, I want to please YOU.”

You consider his offer momentarily before getting up to straddle his waist. You were already just in a shirt and panties, so you slowly slide them off, never taking your eyes off the desperate mess underneath you.

“Better be good for me, Billy, or you won’t be getting shit tonight, you understand?” You ask strictly. He nods rapidly in a desperate attempt to hurry things up so he could just taste you finally. Satisfied with his response, you hover yourself over him until you finally lower down onto his mouth.

His lips immediately wrap around your clit as he begins to kitten lick it. His hands find their way into the sides of your waist as he firmly holds you still, nearly digging his nails into your soft flesh in the process. A soft moan escapes your lips as you grind your hips onto his tongue. “Fuck… Bill…”

“I missed your taste so much…” Bill’s muffled voice groans from underneath you as he drags his tongue down from your clit to your entrance. Without hesitation he pushes his tongue as deeply as he can inside you, savouring every second your taste as much as possible.

Your moans only get louder as you feel his tongue brush against your g-spot. You hastily grab a fistful of your boyfriends spiky (though now quite flat) hair and tug on it, causing him to whimper in pain. You hear a soft “fuck!” from under you and you chuckle. “Did somebody like that? You.. little slut..” You say. After hearing nothing but cute little whines from Bill, you loosen your grip on his hair and clench your bed sheets instead.

Bills tongue was now delving in and out of you at quickly, he wasted no time and wanted to make you cum as quickly and as hard as he could. “You’re… doing so well for me, Billy… ah fuck!” Your mouth hung open, moans escaping it at every sensation. Bill moved one hand from your waist and started to tease your clit again with his thumb, slowly circling it and a teasingly slow pace. You almost found yourself begging him to speed up, but you restrained yourself. You felt your stomach begin to ache as your muscles tensed up, your release imminent. You stuttered out moans and broken sentences, letting Bill know how close you were. And under his muffled breath you could make out his accent whispering “Cmon, cum for me, baby.” You throw back your head in pure ecstasy as your orgasm came crashing over you. Bill held you as still as he could, licking up everything he could. With a final few moans, you slowly lift off your boyfriend’s face to see the mess you made of him, and for him to see the mess he made of you.

“That good?” His innocent smile beamed, full of pride.

“You tell me, seems like you enjoyed just as as much as I did.”

RAHHHHHHH IDK IF I LIKE OR HATE THIS BUT WHATEVER, I GOT SOMETHING OUT AND THATS ALL THAT MATTERS. thank you so much the request, AND all the support i got for my first fic, it means so much to me as a burnt out writer that people actually still like my writing :)) ILY GUYSSSS

[roadkillremi]

Till Death

Ghostface!Randy X Ghostface!Reader

MasterList kinktober '23

Summary : After finding out Billy cheated on you, you and Randy Seek Revenge.

Warnings : MINORS DNI, DARK FIC READ AT YOUR OWN RISK, Cheating, mentions cheating, stabbing, guns, shooting, blood, oral (f receiving), fingering, blood kink, Ghostface, mentions killing, language, Mental insanity(?)

I do not agree with Murder, please don't kill people.

You walked into Stus guest bedroom shutting the door quickly behind you. You turned around facing Randy, he looked worried. He might even be scared for you. Blood had been sprayed on your face and clothes. You looked him in the eyes, "It was close.". He leaned in waiting for you to continue.

"But I did it.." you grinned. He smiled pulling you into a kiss. His lips smiled against yours before he pulled away.

"We need to get you clean clothes before Billy sees you.." he suggests. You bounce your head to the side, "He's too far in Sydney to notice..". Randy looked down at you with slight pity.

"I'm fine. I have you." You smiled. He grinned giving you another kiss.

"You know the color red looks good on you ..." he whispered. You slightly blushed, it didn't make sense to you. Billy could call you beautiful but you didn't care. But Randy would just look at you and you got excited. You'd also used to feel bad about these feelings. But that was until last week, Randy sat you on the bed pulling you out of your thoughts.

"Randy?" You steadied yourself on the mattress as he knelt down. He looked up at you with his bright blue eyes begging for your touch.

"I.. uh I was gonna clean you if you want .." he tried to stay calm. His eyes wandered everywhere, your bare thighs covered in blood. Your tight shirt blood stained, your beautiful face with crimson red.

"Oh.. oh! You wanna do that?" You asked with a subtle hint of teasing. He exhales, "God, yes.".

"Why?.. does blood turn you on?" You tilt your head to the side. He placed his chin in your knee, "It's not blood... it's you.. you're so powerful..and..sexy..". His eyes glanced up at your skirt. You smirked, "Sure...". His eyes widened and he sat up, "Really?!".

"Of course." You smiled. His hands slid up your thighs smeering the blood in. He yanked down your skirt and underwear in one go. He licked a strip up your thigh sending shivers down your spine. He studied your face wanting to know if he's doing well. You bite your lip leaning your arms back to steady yourself. The closer his tongue traveled the more you opened your legs. His breath was Shakey as he got closer.

"Are you sure?" He whispered.

"Yes" you breathed. His tongue dove into your folds. His hands parted your thighs move as he pressed his tongue against you.

"How does it taste?" You manage to ask. He lifts his head up, his chin shiny from your arousal.

"Tastes so good.. been dreaming of this.." he gushes. You smile at him as he goes back to feasting. His tongue toyed with your clit, he moved in figure eights before sucking. His fingers traveling up your thighs to your entrance. You grabbed onto his hair wanting to keep him there. He groaned against your clit making you take sharp breaths. His middle finger toyed with your entrance before entering.

"God, Randy... you're so fucking hot." You praised. His finger curled in as a response. You moaned softly tugging his hair towards you. He pumped his middle finger in adding another digit. You whined and laid back against the bed. He chuckled against your core making you squirm for more.

"You're all clean" he announced as he stood up. You sat up glaring at him, "You're such a god damn tease.". He smiled while wiping his mouth off with the back of his hand.

"I gotta get ready for Act three." He smiled. You groaned grabbing your underwear, "Did you pack extra clothes?".

"Yeah! I got you some spare clothes.." He smiled. You walked over to him hugging him from behind.

"You really do think of everything, huh?" You smiled. He smiled back at you, "Yeah I even have condoms.". You raise an eyebrow, "And why would we need those?".

"The same reason why I needed to clean you up.." he teased. You shook your head and grabbed the spare pair of jeans and shirt. Randy slid in the Ghostface cloak and held the mask in his hands. You looked at his figure as he grabbed the hunting knife he stole from Stu.

"Fuck.." you whisper. He looked over at you, "What?". You bit your lip, "You look... so good in that..". He smiled, "I mean we have some minutes to spare.". You nod grabbing the fabric off his chest pulling him closer. You backed into the bed pulling him on top of you.

"We should get rid of this top.." he whispered. You watched him take the knife slicing the fabric down. The blade pushed through touching your skin. He smiled staring down at your chest. You rolled your eyes pulling your bra off. He positioned himself between your legs before leaning down to lick your perky nub. His crouch pushed against your now clothed core. He stood back up to check his watch, "When did you say Sydney and Billy went to the room?".

"About forty five minutes ago.." you sat up. He looked down at you, your big eyes and blood sprayed cheeks. He swallowed looking down at you, "You should... Get dressed.". You tilted your head, "You said we had some minutes to spare.". Randy bit his lip, "I know but...I wouldn't want to stop myself.". You sighed, "Fine.. I guess I'll go clean my face..". You got up putting the spare clothes on.

You ran downstairs bumping into Stu, you jumped. He looked concerned, "Have you seen Tatum?!". You shook your head, "No! I haven't seen Billy either!". Stu looked around grabbing your wrist pulling you to the kitchen.

"Y/N... I don't know what's happening... I think Randy's the killer..". You blinked acting clueless, "What?".

"Think about it?! Who else could be doing this?!" Stu buried his hands in his face.

"Tatum... My god! Tatum!" He sobbed. You hugged him, "Im so sorry.. Stu where's Billy?".

"I have no clue!" He cried. Billy came tumbling downstairs, Stu looked up and ran over to him. Billy held his stomach, "He got Sydney!".

"Billy?" You walked over to him. He looked up at you, "Are you okay?".

"Yeah... Where were you?!" You kneeled down helping him up. He leaned against you, "I was using the bathroom and Sydney was running in the hall.. she ran into me and the killer was chasing her.".

"Oh my god.." you and Stu led him into the kitchen. You paced the kitchen, once they weren't paying attention you grabbed the gun on the counter.

"Who would do this?"

"Randy! That fucking geek has no grip on reality!" Billy yelled. You shook your head, "But he's our friend!". Stu sighed, "Think about it..". You shook your head grabbing your hair.

"Y/N it's okay.. Y/N? Hey calm down.."

Their voices flooded your brain. You screamed before shooting in Stu in the shoulder. He screamed as well, both men looking up at you. You smiled widely at Billy and Stu who sat in the corner. Billy held onto his torso trying to stop the blood. Stu breathed heavily as he tried to stay awake.

"You did this?" Billy asked hesitantly. You shrugged, "I mean.. im just the Bronze...".

"What the fuck does that mean?!" Stu shouted.

"Shut up!" You yelled. You sighed, "I'm trying to have my killer monologue.".

"No it wasn't just me.." you smiled sweetly. Ghostface crept into the kitchen, he took off his mask. Randy smiled leaning into you giving you a kiss. Billy sat up quickly to interject. You shoved the gun in his direction, "Oh calm yourself, Loomis.".

"You're cheating on me?!?!" He yelled. Stu gasped in shock, you rolled your eyes.

"You cheated on me. Remember? Your little rendezvous with Sydney. Oh, don't worry she's dead now." You gave him a twisted smile.

"How'd she figure it out?!" Stu yelled. You stared down at Billy, "It was easy Stuart.". You took a step forward towards the two boys.

"Oh, baby. Sydney just needs a friend. Sydney's just having a hard time." You mocked him. He shook his head, "You're sick.".

You laughed, "Sick? No.. Let me tell you something sweetheart...". You squatted down to his level, "It's a dog eat dog world.. and sadly male dogs.. dominate female dogs..". He swung his arm before you grabbed it stabbing his forearm. He yelped out in pain, you moved the knife under his chin.

"Don't act like you're innocent. You slept with her at my birthday party last weekend!" You stared at him. He looked at you hopelessly, "And then there's Christina... yeah she told me. The poor girl was eaten by guilt about her kid..." you sighed. You stood up backing up to where Randy stood.

"Was that a good monologue?" You asked. He nodded, "perfect..".

"What about Tatum?.." Stu stuttered. You sighed, "Stuart your lack of brain cells won't understand.". He buried his hands in his face. Randy smiled, "What about him? What's his stupid reason?" Billy asked. Randy smiled widely pulling out the voice box.

"Because it's the perfect movie." He laughed. Billy looked at the two of you standing before him.

"I'm sorry okay?"

"Oh you're sorry!" You yelled with an undertone of laugh. You took a stepped forward, "Oh, he's sorry! He's sorry! He's sorry! Sorry my ass!". Your voice echoed through the house, he winced at the noise.

"You're a pathetic excuse for a man. Plus... I mean don't act so high and mighty.." you looked back at Randy. Randy walked over, "It was pretty obvious you two were planning something.." Randy smiled.

"Casey Becker? Stus Ex? How obvious.. so.. it'll be justice." You smiled. Randy wrapped his arm around your waist, "We'll frame you two. And live on, and I mean sequels suck ass. So don't worry about that." Randy added. You looked at him with a smile, "Mhm..".

You pointed the gun at him, "Bye bye now.".

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

Teeth

Part 10

Werepanther!Billy Russo x Female Reader

Masterlist

Warnings: Nothing much really, some smut, some angst, loads of dumbassery.

I'm waiting for you outside.' Is what he texts you on your first day back to work.

'Why?'

'Isn't it obvious?'

Oh, you hated him.

He looks fucking hot, because of course he does, dressed in his usual, but unbelievably attractive, work attire.

The bane of your existence that he is, gives you a nod of his head in greeting.

"I'm driving you to work."

The audacity.

You stop right in front of him, looking up at him evenly, trying your hardest not to smile, or look away, or look down at his lips-

"What makes you think, I want you to drive me to work?"

He returns your stare easily, and if you were any less angry with him, you would have folded.

"I know you don't feel safe, and I want to help you with that however I can."

"I didn't ask for your help, I'm fine on my own." You say obstinately.

A smile pulls on his face for a second, and you feel yourself get even angrier that he would find humor while you stare him down.

"I know you're fine on your own," he says, leaning into you.

You gulp at the praise, taking a step back, he guides you, corrals you, until your back is pressed against his car.

"I know how strong and how capable you are." He follows up, bracing one hand on the car right beside you, you glance down at it, observing the shine of his watch, feeling your heart vibrate rapidly in response to his closeness.

"I think, you're maybe one of the best in your fields- if not the best and I don't think there's much problems you can't fix."

"Uh-" You try to protest.

His other hand pressing against the car on the other side of you makes you shut up really quickly. You look up at him as he looms over you, the scent of jasmine filling your senses, his eyes are even, and dark, demanding your attention.

"But I know security, and your safety is very important to me. So get in the car, and let me at least drive you to work."

Your eyes drop down to his lips.

God, how you want to kiss him. Just throw caution to the wind and slant your mouth against his until you steal his hot breath with each slide of your tongue on his-

Shit. This was not the way you wanted to interact with him today. You wanted to be casual and indifferent, pull away and keep your distance, not think about jumping him the minute he got too close to you.

You knew how he would play this, gentle and earnest now, and then cold to you later. If whiplash was a person, you'd be staring right at him.

You still couldn't shake the way his words made you feel. The way he believed in you so easily made you want to melt into a hot, sticky puddle at his feet.

So you find some common ground, nodding your head in assent, watching him lean away from you. You turn, pulling the door open, and climbing into the passenger seat of his car without looking back.

It's a lot more torment than you can manage. The whole way there, you're thinking about how easy it would be to fuck him in the back seat, have him drop his pants and you'd lift your skirt and sink right down onto him. You wonder what kind sounds he'd make-

"Do you want to pick the music?" He asks easily, unlocking his phone and leaning it your way.

Your hands shake when you take it, picking a song you like and letting it play.

You study him intently, he keeps a straight face as the song plays.

It burns at you to the point where you have to ask.

"What do you think?" You ask evenly, trying your hardest not to ramble.

Do you like it? Do you hate it? I'm sorry if it's shit.

You don't understand why you need his approval so much. Why did it matter to you?

What was it about him, that made you want every ounce of attention he could give you?

"It's good. It's not my specific taste but I like it." He answers, glancing over at you.

You smile.

"It's really funny. I think I have the best music taste but also I'm so insecure about it too." You try to explain, beating yourself up after you say it.

You watch his mouth twitch in amusement.

"That's very cute."

You turn away to look out the window so that he doesn't see how wide you smile.

.

"I just noticed- you got your necklace back." Bily comments, as you sit across from him in his office.

You raise a hand, touching the panther.

"Yeah," You say with a smile, "Someone brought it back for me."

"I'm glad to hear it."

You swallow with a nod, eager to get back to discussing work, trying to reduce the amount of time you spend around him, worried that you'll just keep saying stupid shit.

.

He doesn't like the distance.

The physical chasm between you was hard enough to handle as is, but now you're actively trying to avoid him as much as possible at Anvil.

Sure, the drives to work kept you close, he was able to see you everyday, talk to you, even just a little.

But you'd taken to holding your tongue around him, smiling and nodding, or giving one word answers when necessary.

It was fucking agony.

He wanted that sweet girl back, the one that found difficulty in keeping quiet.

Billy suspected it was in part his fault. He doubted he was the most welcoming face, and he knew sometimes he came across dismissive when he was trying to tamp the beast down, his slipping self control could make him come across as irritable. There was also the guilty feeling in his chest when he got too close. He didn't want to devalue your work in any way.

But keeping you safe had become necessary.

With the robbery happening when he'd been dealing with the full moon, Billy realized that he'd have to be more vigilant.

New York could be so unsafe, and Billy would not let another hurt you.

He swallows angrily when images of the little scratches on your skin materialise in his head.

Killing those men had been necessary. Carving their faces up until they had been barely recognisable, leaving them in a place easily found by the target audience was detrimental.

The predator had been pleased with the shocked faces of those that had observed his work. The message had been clear; tread lightly, there was no criminal organisation out there that could keep anyone safe from him.

.

Billy wakes up when you say his name.

He blinks, sitting up in bed rubbing his eyes when he catches sight of you.

You're dressed in a satin nightdress, his hands clench into fists, eager to get his hands on the material.

He says your name, watches you smile at him as you get closer.

He's not wearing anything, only the black sheets tucked around his lower half protect you from seeing his hardening cock.

You don't seem to mind his state of undress, crawling into his bed, and not stopping until you're straddling his lap, right atop his covered cock.

He groans, and he watches you smile mischievously.

You lean closer, and Billy tilts his head up, closes his eyes, eager to kiss you.

All you do is press your forehead to his, rubbing your nose against the slant of his.

He says your name, a plea, an ask of desperation, begging you not to tease him.

You hum, little fingers wrapping behind his neck, a comforting hand on the edges of shredding his self control.

When he tilts his head up for a kiss, you move your head back.

Your fingers wander, exploring what's yours. Billy closes his eyes and surrenders himself to it, feels the trace of your gentle fingers over his collarbones.

He tilts his head back, all the weight of his torso propped onto his arms keeping him upright. He feels your fingers explore them too, carefully assessing each bicep, each line of his muscle.

He hopes you like it- the shape of his body- he hopes you like what you see.

He lets out a low groan when your fingers trace his chest, his skin tingles in the best way. He feels so open, vulnerable for you, and he can't fathom enough thought to build any walls against you and the way you make him feel.

He lets you explore his torso, eager fingers reaching behind to rub your soft hands against his back. His breath catches when he feels your nails claw against his skin for a brief moment.

He raises his head, tries to kiss you again, only to have you pull back with another teasing laugh.

Why were you punishing him? Hadn't he endured enough torment?

Apparently not, because in the next moment you drop your head to kiss his neck.

"Fuck." He grunts, tilting his head to give you more space to work, letting you kiss his neck to your heart's content.

You let out a hum of delight and his cock jumps, he loves the sounds you make.

You take it as an invitation, beginning to rock your hips against his gently, while you kiss his neck.

When kissing is not enough, he feels your teeth come out to play.

Perhaps you were a predator too.

Biting and licking and kissing his skin and  all he wants to do is give in to you, let you take anything you wanted.

He just wanted to belong to you.

"I'm close." He warns, gasping as your hips speed up, doesn't remember any point in his life where he was this on edge from just someone touching him.

He can't fight it, fingers gripping your hair, pulling your head back so that he can press his lips to yours.

He wakes up, cock aching painfully.

It doesn't take much, just the dip of his right hand below the thin sheets, pretending that his rough palm was really your soft one, and stroking himself to completion easily.

His body heaves in air, post-orgasmic bliss easing the tension in his body.

He sits up, tosses the sheets off with his other hand and moves to clean himself up.

You're still asleep. He can see you through the open curtains of your room.

You'd started sleeping with them open, maybe a day or two now, and the beast hums, contented that he may have factored into you feeling safe in your own home.

You shift, pulling a pillow tightly into your body, tossing a lithe leg over it.

Billy smiles to himself, admiring you curled up, wishing he could be there with you.

He shakes his head, takes a deep breath. Your safety came first, and he was making steady progress on that- too much progress for him to stop now.

.

Sometimes he texts you at the end of the work day to tell you that he's waiting by his car for you. Other times, he shows up in your little office space, leaning against the door to look at you steadily until you notice him. Today, it's the former.

You've been doing this little dance for almost a week now, you're not sure how sustainable it is, but you're stubborn, and you refuse to indulge him in any kind of deeper interaction because you know he's just going to pull away again.

It was all muddled in your head, the way you felt about him, and the lengths you went to so that you could hide those feelings, the way he acted toward you, not saying a word to you in the elevator, but holding you so tight after you'd been attacked.

It was obviously, just better to pull away, which you had definitely been trying to do. You knew it would save you a lot of heartache later.

Unwilling to admit to yourself that maybe you were in heartache right now.

You almost fall when you see him.

He's bent over, foot propped against a little ledge built into the wall behind his car, running a soft cloth over the tip of his boot.

He's dressed in partial tactical clothing, tight shirt tucked into combat pants, and your mouth dries up at the very sight of him.

"Billy?" You call, as you make your way to him.

He raises his head, says your name in greeting.

When he catches your eyes roaming the expanse of his chest he looks down.

"Ran some combat sims today." He explains.

You nod, swallowing.

"Right." Is all you say, opening his car door and slipping inside without another word.

You let out a shaky breath.

Holy fuck was he hot. Surface of the sun scorching and even worse when dressed in attire that forced you to think about how he would look using a gun.

God, you squeeze your thighs together, trying to ease the ache inside of you. This definitely was not helping you pull away from him.

You startle a little when he opens the driver's side door and slips inside.

Your eyes are fixed directly forward, you hear him take a deep breath.

"How was work today?" He asks, his voice hitting a low timbre, still soft despite the rumble.

"Good," You reply, matching his soft tone, uncaring of how innapropriate it might be.

Your clit was aching too much for you to worry about appropriateness.

"I like solving problems." You follow up unnecessarily.

He hums, you squeeze your eyes shut when his car roars to life.

"Are you hungry? We can stop for something on the way home." Billy offers.

Home, because both of you were going to near the same destination.

"I'm okay." You answer tersely, "I'm gonna whip up something at home."

He nods, deep in thought.

"Is it okay if I stop? I'm not feeling to cook for myself today."

Your mouth parts, you turn to him. He glances at you when he notices your movement.

"I can- If- If you want- I'm making pasta and I always make too much-" Fuck fuck fuck, what were you doing? What happened to keeping your distance?

You take a deep breath to gather your thoughts.

"Would you like to come over for dinner? I'll make pasta. Or it's not a problem if you want to get something else-"

"-I'd like that." He interrupts, and you can't help the heat that flushes throught your body.

"Good." You nod in acceptance, turning away from him to face forward once again, pretending to be casual when really, you could feel the slippery glide of your arousal between your legs.

.

How many times does he have to fight himself, before it's too much?

Your scent fills the enclosed space of his car, your arousal so prominent he can near taste it in the air. It wraps around him, seeps into his every pore, torments him.

The beast rages.

Billy swallows, tightening his already white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel- a few more minutes of this and he's going to damage his car.

He glances over at you, you're typing animatedly into your phone, he studies your hair, memorises it, takes another deep breath.

He wonders how soft the skin of your bare thighs would be, he thinks about the way it would feel against his face.

He takes another deep breath at a traffic light, tries to be calm but the only air he can breathe is full of you.

"Are you allergic to anything?" You murmur, seemingly deep in thought.

He forces himself to think for a moment.

"Allergic- no, but I really hate green beans."

You hum, typing something into your phone.

"No green beans. Got it."

You accept it so easily, you don't ask why, and he likes that. He likes how easy you accept him.

"I don't like broccoli either, and cabbage is on thin ice."

At this, you give a little giggle, he smiles at the sound, feels himself be put at ease.

"I love broccoli, but I hate the way people make it seem that picky kids are a parent's worst nightmare. No one faults adults for being picky. I'm sorry if your parents made you feel bad for not liking what you don't like."

He sighs, blinks, doesn't want to turn the atmosphere sour with his past, but something inside of him itches for the comfort you would no doubt give.

"I don't really have parents." he says softly. He watches you turn to look at him from the corner of his eye.

"You don't?" You ask.

He shakes his head slowly, eyes fixed on the road as the traffic light turns green.

"I grew up in a group home, I don't know if my parents would have made me feel bad or not, but the people that took care of me definitely did." He ends with a humorous tone in his voice, trying somehow to lighten the mood.

He's hyperfixated on every breath you take as you process the information.

"I'm sorry." You finally say.

"It's-"

"-Are you really going to say it's alright? Was it actually? Did you feel safe and protected? Did you get to have toys and your favourite foods?"

Billy hadn't expected this. No one before had really prodded him after he'd given the brief overview.

"No." He says simply.

"Is that why you hate green beans?"

Right on the money.

"Yes." He answers, vaguely aware that he's shutting down, trying not to overshare his traumatising childhood.

"What's your favourite food?" You inquire softly.

He spares a glance in your direction.

You look at him evenly, Billy can tell your mind is already made up, despite his next attempts to change it.

"You don't have to-"

"-I know. I know I don't, but I want to. I know you're my boss, and maybe this is not the most appropriate thing, but maybe we can be friends too."

He couldn't fight the smile that pulls at his mouth even if he tried.

"Of course we can be friends." He murmurs, sparing another glance from the road to look at your face. Captivating in every way, blissful shelter, in a raging storm.

.

.

.

A/N: What song would you play for Billy that perfectly encapsulates your taste in music?

Mine is either Devil's Advocate by The Neighborhood or Take A Slice by Glass Animals

[beyoursbb]

€uro Tra$h Series: Dipped in $ugar (Part 3 - final)

Pairing: Billy Butcher x You (Reader) || Rating: Explicit || Word Count: 1.9k || Link to Part 1 and Link to Part 2 (Not necessary to read to understand Part 3, but here if you want more! Timeline for this work is Season 1 btw).

Summary: Just morning sex with Butcher lol.

Author’s Note: Wrote this shorter cuz I meant to get this out a long while ago, whoops! You can let me know how it was! Likes, dislikes, etc. I love and appreciate feedback in the comments. This 3-part scenario is now complete. @a-rogue-tiddy-bot thought you might want to be tagged!

Warnings: swearing, teasing, vaginal fingering, implied p in v sex, sugar daddy / daddy kink (the name daddy is used 1 time, and a lil talk of those dynamics), age gap (implied, not specified), little bit of praise, begging

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

You woke up gradually, each of your senses gathering intel on your surroundings to remind you of where you were. Sunlight streamed through the tiny crack in the motel’s curtains, glinting off the weapon on the table. The bed sheets by your nose still had the scent of laundry detergent despite last night’s action. The faint snoring of the man behind you matched the warm body cuddled up to your backside, and the arm under your neck that you were using as a pillow. You could feel the heat radiating off Billy’s chest and the weight of his other arm hanging over your midsection, as well as something not-so-soft pressing against your butt. 

You stretched your hand back to stroke his neck. “Billy?” you whispered. 

No response. 

“Billy,” you said louder, lightly tugging on his hair. 

He hummed, keeping his eyes closed. 

You took a breath, then gave an experimental shift backwards into his crotch.

“Oi. Morning sunshine,” he mumbled into your hair, his hand already cupping between your legs.

You giggled at how that got his attention. “Morning, Billy.”

“When’d you put these on?” he complained softly, playing with the waistband of your bottoms.

“When I got up in the middle of the night.”

If you thought Butcher’s regular deep voice was sexy, you were wholly unprepared to face this gravelly tone as he woke up. Especially when it was demanding your naked body again. 

“Well fucking take ‘em off, will ya?” 

Billy hardly gave you a moment to comply before shoving his hand in your underwear. He immediately found your clit, but his touch was gentle, and worked tantalizingly slow, tracing lazy circles. Your legs didn’t need much coaxing to open up as Billy eagerly pushed his own thigh between them and hooked yours around it while planting soft kisses to your neck. His beard tickled your jawline, and you sighed contentedly, melting into the sensation with a slight turn of your head toward him. You closed your eyes.

If this was how snug morning sex with Billy could be, you hoped he would let you linger more frequently. You guessed being half asleep was why his demeanor had taken a sharp left turn and a whole 180 flip to be so…calm. Not that you ever minded his roughness. But this right now was a different experience, and it was nice. You were used to trying to help Butcher relax as much as possible during your visits, but there is only so many times a guy can fuck the stress out of his system before needing to face his stressors head-on, like a well-adjusted adult. You knew an unstable, emotionally unavailable man when you saw one; Butcher didn’t have time for that. His mind was always preoccupied, his actions always in a hustle to return to whatever was demanding his attention before you arrived. Hence, why you were surprised he wasn’t already fucking you into the mattress and sending you on your way. 

Instead, Billy’s fingers continued to tease your slick entrance delicately; it was almost unbelievable they were the same fingers that brought you to a searing climax some hours ago. 

“Even first thing in the morning, so wet and ready,” Billy whispered in your ear.

You could hear the smirk in his voice, driving you to push your hips against him to address your growing need for more friction. But Billy seemed satisfied taking his time playing with you, his breathing even as his lips ghosted across the smooth skin of your shoulder. 

A cross between a groan and a whimper slipped off your tongue. You were getting impatient already. “I need more, Daddy.”

“Need more what, luv?” Billy took hardly a second to push your underwear farther down your legs until it was off, and run his hand back up your bare skin.

“More of you,” you answered, reaching behind to grab his increasingly hard length. Hot and heavy in your palm, you started to touch him too, rubbing slowly from base to tip. 

“Oh, you’ll get more, baby.”

You inhaled sharply. Billy rarely called you baby. Shit, you thought. Since when had he picked up on the effect that word had on you when it was uttered by him? You could give less of a shit when your other sugar daddies called you the pet name. But Billy dropping it so casually right now while he toyed with your arousal? You were in for it this morning.

“My baby can be such a greedy girl,” he chuckled.

My baby. My. Baby. My.

This time you visibly shivered, your shoulders rattling against his chest, but you tried to cover it up by twisting your head back at the same time to steal a kiss from his lips. He allowed it, nipping at your lower lip, then removed his arm from under you and propped himself up on it. Butcher was at the perfect level now to hover right above your ear. 

“Did ya know that’s why I say you’re my favorite?” 

His fingers were back on your clit, the pressure still light, but he quickened his pace. 

“Why?” you asked, dumbly, his teasing clearly too distracting for your mind to keep up with the conversation, as well as provide any stimulation for him. Your hand on his length had already slowed to a pathetic, arrhythmic rate. You blushed at the realization when he — rather politely — removed your useless hand from his crotch and placed it under his own to touch yourself with as he continued his ministrations on your wetting pussy. 

“Because you’re greedy, luv. And I know it’s not for my money.” 

A pitifully needy noise slipped out from deep in your throat as Billy’s mouth connected to the soft spot under your ear, tongue flicking at the lobe, before he bit it — harder than you anticipated. 

“You get that everywhere, with however many daddies you have.” 

You drew in a deep breath in an attempt to steady your loudly beating heart. Was there a tinge of spite in his voice? You didn’t have time to analyze. Billy flipped you around to face him, swiftly replacing the hands on your core with his length dragging through your folds. You gasped, gripping at his shoulders, trying not to stare down at the delicious sight of his big hand around his even bigger member, its head leaking precum into your slit. 

“Nah, I know,” Billy growled. Your eyes snapped up to meet his dark, lust-filled gaze. “You’re just greedy for my cock.”

You shrieked at the sudden intrusion, then swore at him. Finally he had dipped into your dripping cunt. Except this fucker switched back to using his fingers.

“Billy— Billy, please,” you cried out, not even sure what you were begging for. You were greedy for his cock, yes. You were just as desperate for your fucking release. Also, you wanted to wipe that smug smile off his handsome face. 

“Let me hear you,” he insisted, two digits pushing in and out of your center. “Tell me, why are you my favorite fuck?”

You willed your mind and mouth to cooperate in forming sentences. “Because I’m greedy.”

The quick response earned you a third digit stretching you out, causing you to bite down on your lip.

“For…?”

Again, you forced yourself to concentrate, despite the lewd noises echoing below you and the feeling of climax in the pit of your stomach hungry to break free. 

“For your cock,” you breathed out. “I’m so greedy for your cock.”

Billy curled his fingers to hit that spot you loved, and you felt your tether to reality loosen. 

“So sweet of you to say, darlin’.” The stillness in his tone matched the precision of his palm now rubbing tight circles on your clit. "Is that what you want now? You want my cock in your tight little pussy?"

Your head drooped forward, thudding against his firm chest, your hands still clawing at his arms for some sense of stability while you grinded down on him, desperately chasing your high. He was stringing you out for all you were worth and you were so, so close, you didn’t care how pathetic you sounded. "Yes, yes! Please— I want it so bad,” you panted.

“Next time, baby, look at me when you speak. Maybe then you'll get exactly what you want.”

With one last stroke of his hand, your orgasm hit hard, much more intense than the two last night combined, and twice as pleasurable. You saw stars with your eyes sealed shut while your pussy clenched with a vice grip around Billy, as strong as your nails dug into his skin. He made you the most writhing, sweaty mess you’d been in months, yet you didn’t — couldn’t — even make a sound, sans the quiet gushing of your juices thoroughly coating him.

You had no idea how many minutes passed before you came back down to Earth in Butcher’s arms and opened your eyes to see him peering down at you gingerly. He pecked your forehead, and you did the same to his neck, collarbone, and chest.

“Fuck, I’m glad you stayed last night, luv.”

“Me too,” you squeaked out.

“You alrigh’?” Billy asked, wiping the tears that had formed at the corners of your eyes.

You nodded, then laughed. “Pretty sure I blacked out.”

“Thought so, too,” he replied, a small, satisfied grin appearing. 

You rolled your eyes and playfully pushed him away. Then for the first time all morning, you got a good look at him. His thick, dark brown hair could definitely be characterized as a bed head, and you aimlessly combed through it a few times. Your gaze drifted downwards to the red scratches you had just gifted him, and you gently brushed over them with the pad of your thumb. A little farther down you carefully studied the still-fresh bruises and past-lingering scars across his broad torso. 

Your turn to inquire. “Are you alright?”

“Never better,” Billy said, a little too quickly.

“I mean from last night.” You traced an imaginary line connecting the marks on his body, to make your point clear. “What happened?”

Butcher shifted his body, but his face remained hardened. “Even MM needs a reminder every once in a while. Captain’s gotta run a tight ship,” he said matter-of-factly. “Job’s stressful, night didn’t go as planned, he took it out on me, but he knows when I’m right.”

You nodded, as if deliberately sidestepping the question about his injuries to explain the one part of his night you were present for was an acceptable enough answer. However, after a restful night’s sleep and an active morning that left you plenty clear-headed, you felt a bit more bold. You didn’t care if it wasn’t a sugar baby’s place to know his job. If he wasn’t ready to discuss the elephant in the room this second, you were at least going to let him know he wouldn’t get away with avoiding it for long.

“Fine, if you want to dance around it. You don’t have to tell me right now why you were gone four hours longer than you expected, or came back with this,” you nudged his taped up hand, “or that,” you gestured toward the semi-automatic on the table, “but at the very least, you should introduce me to your colleagues.”

The flashback of you laying on the bed, thankfully fully clothed, when they stormed in last night flashed through your memory. “You know, the guys who weren’t sure that this is legal,” you added. “Want them to know it’s all good.”

There was a beat of silence, until Billy relented, and you were genuinely surprised at the lack of pushback. “Fine.” 

With his hand on your hip, he rolled you over onto your other side, back into a spooning position, with your ass pulled against him. 

“You’ll meet the boys with my cum dripping down your thighs.”

[plasticfangtastic]

Cozy Corner Domaystic

Prompts– 30. Doing the dishes, 11. Unexpected gift– sort of, alt. prompt ‘Oh what is this?’

Lemon Scented Mess

A Butchie fanfic

Tags: light smut, takes places between s3/s4 so spoilers for s3/s4, cheating, vers Butcher, vers Hughie, both r bi, depressive.

word count: 3.9K

A/N: apply just porn logic to this fic, could not for the life of me find a gif of Butcher's ass... 1st time writing a Butchie fic so am sorry if this feels butchlander for some reason.

Is an odd sense of responsibility that keeps him here– since they met that night at the electronic store he’s been bound to Butcher, following him like a starved dog craving his endless attention unconsciously… his approval and praise… Butcher was this larger than life figure. Everywhere he walked he pulled everything with his own magnetic field, violently changing everything to suit him.

Hughie had sunk and disappointed the ghost of his grandparents with all he’s done– all he’s done to impress this Englishman… even if he’d never said it outloud.

Annie would chastise him for going so far to impress this bastard all the time, which he would vehemently deny at every turn as he continue lying to himself, it had begun to leave their relationship in tethers and frankly he was doing this to avoid couples therapy… Worse was that he was the one who suggested it in the first place. So instead of doing that– he was helping Butcher do his laundry.

Some days he wished he had never brought over a weekend bag– between the medication and  the side-effects medication, the excessive smoking and drinking, the quirks and general crudeness Butcher wasn’t an easy roommate much less patient… unbearable was the better word, on the good days he was back to his gruff usual self which was well… Billy.

Hughie woke up with a sore back, sleeping on Butcher’s sofa wasn’t completely terrible, it was just too small for him, Butcher had casually suggested buying a fold-out couch for Hughie and if his back ache any harder he might take in his offer but in the meantime he didn’t want Butcher to worry for him when there was so much on their plate already. 

As he hopped off the sofa his feet move on their own heading straight to the kitchen before he can even take a piss, he has to force Butcher to take his medication if not he’ll grind it into his tea, it feels as if he’s medicating a stubborn dog, but its now just routine for him, but he doesn’t have to do a thing this morning-- Butcher’s already in the kitchen, his teeth loudly grinding on his pills as he groans at the bitter taste before washing it down with chamomile then washing that away with what’s left of the ciggy in his hands.

Not that Hughie is really paying attention to his unhealthy breakfast for all he’s trying to ignore is the nudity.

One thing he’s learned since forcing himself to live with Butcher… is that the man refused to change his ways, he slept bare– no matter how cold he got, he just added another throw blanket or raised the thermostat.

At first it made him uncomfortable, made him squeal like an embarrassed teenage girl but now he had to hide his prolonged peeking.

As Butcher paraded himself out the kitchen, hughie had to do everything in his power to subdue the moan caught in his throat as he caught a closer glimpse of that thick veiny cock, Butcher was unfairly endowed, everything about him was unfair, sick and dying but he didn’t skip a workout, still looking strong despite a tumor in his brain– broad shoulders, hung, gruff hands and hairy chest… the complete opposite of himself, it made him feel more inadequate than envious… and terribly horny too.

He was unlike any man he’s met before, certainly nothing like his father or his old friends… he was crude machismo with an accent.

He wondered if they were going to do anything today, he’d already blew off his doctor’s appointment yesterday, he’s visited his aunt and his dog earlier this week, and he’s done their groceries already, work had been done and he’s only home today because he’s been puking all day yesterday from the dizziness.

“How are you feeling today?” he says loudly as he serves himself some tea.

“Like I’m dying. Just not feeling it today…” Butcher ties his gray sweatpants loosely around his hips as he comes back from his bedroom– You could go see your lady, I’ll be alright.”

“You forgot she left for Chicago yesterday, she’s doing that charity thing she told you about– so Annie won’t be back till wednesday.” He gulps as Butcher slumps on the couch, wrapping himself on Hughie’s blanket– I’ll call her later…”

Butcher raises his eyebrow but says nothing as he grabs the remote control.

“Oh… well I’m going to finally start watching Bridgerton so you’re free to join me!” he says with disappointment– we can cuddle.” his shit eating grin is more annoying than usual.

“I’ll pass… the cuddling that’s it.”

Hughie can’t say he wants to watch it but he doesn’t quite want to leave Butcher either… he’s not sure where it began, when did he started devouring him in his mind, he’s always been improper with him, saying things that would give a nun a stroke, they shared a lot together, poisoned and tainted their souls together, nearly died by each other sides as much as they’ve fought one another– it made them close… now instead watching some posh drama with a miserable old man, he’s ogling him… those weird remarks now stuck to him, deep down he knows is probably this sense of dreadful captivity driving him mad, sharing his space, sharing everything from plates to towels… making the older man dependant on him as he was too much of a brute to stick to his regime, it felt good to make that stubborn man do as he’s told, it felt good to force Butcher to appreciate him.

He finds him too relaxed, too vulnerable– he can’t forget that he was stroking his cock underneath that blanket a few hours ago thinking of those rough hands squeezing his neck after too many brews, his sluggish words hidden behind a thickened accent, his body pressed so tightly against him all he can focus is his scent, the spicy sweetness of his skin, the strong aroma of tobacco staining his fingers and whisky souring his lips, of the thought of those plump lips doing more than curse.

Sometimes Hughie thinks that he’s still high on temp V, that that poison damaged his brain in ways the doctor’s had missed.

For that’s the only excuse he gives himself when he wakes up from his trance, staring at the happy trail peeking from those loose gray trousers, at the shape of his cock as it lays defendless.

He squeezes his legs, pretending he’s being pushed away by Butcher selfishly taking all the space, his ears heating up as he accepts his losing battle of wills against his own penis, he jerks off every night but is not enough… ever since that disastrous battle against Soldier Boy back in the tower, him and Annie had been in a slump, sexb was out of the question, at most they gave each other head but it wasn’t enough, did he missed her so much (her body at least) he now projected his pent-up desires to the next domineering person in his life.

Butcher briefly looked away from the screen as he sensed the weight shift throughout the cushions, looking down catching those long legs squeeze, snickering at the sight, counting the minutes before the young lad runs to the bathroom and disappears for ten minutes or so, looking down to hide the blush on his cheeks as ifs not painted on his ears. 

Rubbing his feet against the younger man’s thigh, teasing him knowing he’s pent up and frustrated, his mind going places that he knows he shouldn’t– Billy just doesn’t care anymore, there’s a timer above him running out of sand afterall. William knows that it’s wrong to cross the line, he knew the moment he stopped seeing Lenny on his skin, the moment he stopped being his canarie as the others so sweetly put it– the first time he stood up to him, that he wanted him.

It gave him a rush, he wanted to break the boy once more, subdue him, he liked the obedient pretty boy who unspokenly wished to please him, to gain his approval but who still had a spark inside him.

Yet as his clock ran out of sand, a part of him… as sick as it was wanted to leave him scarred with himself.

Blurred lines, confusing flirtations hidden behind jokes, touches that lingered a second too long were his weapon of choice.

As the younger man excused himself, moving quickly to hide that throbbing boner, Butcher waits until the lock clicks before milking himself.

Mouth parting as soft gasps hide themselves behind his sheet, huffing the boy’s shampoo, his perfume coating him, as women bicker in the back his mind plays an x-rated film… poor little Hughie spreading himself, glistening fingers, pre-cum spilling down his thin thighs, his heaving chest, mewling after him, biting his lips so hard they’re left purple as Butcher leaves handprints on each cheek.

He cums before his own fantasy self even gets to cum, he would complain but he knows he doesn’t have a lot of time before Hughie’s done so he rushes to the kitchen to wash his hand.

In the Bathroom is the same scene yet it looks more desperate, his movie more unrealistic.

Hughie hands pulling on those raven locks, pushing the man down his length, nails clawing down his thighs as he chokes on his cum… Hughie moans into his chest, as his own fantasy gives him a shit eating grin, his Butcher letting his thick seed gloss his plump lips, playful licks as he washes the umami off him, crying for more, demanding Hughie roughens him more

He needs to leave the house is his first clear thought.

He needs to go get laid for real before he finds himself doing something his and Annie’s therapist won’t be able to amend.

He could never tell Annie any of these fantasies, but even in the dead of night when the only sound is that of the city around him, her face fades and it is him that consumes him.

He bets he tastes salty and tarty, he bets he’s strong and mainly in a way he could never achieve, in a way that most girls would find icky but that will get him called a faggot by the older man for enjoying.

As he flushes the paper trail, he looks at the cheapest plane ticket to Chicago on his phone, he should go surprise Annie, bringing peace offerings and pray to any listening God that Annie will fuck him… and to the gods who aren’t listening that they will stop him from muttering ‘Billy’ as he makes a mess of himself.

Butcher chucks his phone aside as Hughie comes back from the restroom.

“I ordered some chinese.” He says quietly– Marina got a proposal… quite a salacious offer in my opinion.”

“Oh…” Hughie couldn’t point out Marina in a line-up even if there was a gun to his head– that’s cool… cool.”

“You okay lad? Do I’ve got to call the plumber or sum’thing?” He jokes– just looking a little flustered there, luv.”

“I’m good!” His eyes widened– just glad you’re eating something today, barely got you to keep the soup last night.”

“I think I gotta tell the doc to change my meds…”

“Or maybe we shouldn’t be self-medicating with ketamine and god knows what else” he grumbles.

“Okay mom.”

He at least begins to pay attention to the drama happening to these siblings, he’s sure that Annie would like this show which makes him feel more guilty than jerking off to somebody else.

Food arrives and he knows this is too much food but at least the man seems to be eating without problem.

He would’ve relaxed and calmed down had he not played him so dirty, as they pack their leftovers Butcher offers to wash the dishes, last night’s plates and half drunk teacups still in the small sink.

Water splashing down his stomach, lemon scented foam slides down his forearms, making a lemon scented mess of foam all over the sink edges, he’s needlessly messy, and Hughie can’t stop biting his lip as he sees the wet line on the edge of his sweatpants.

Butcher turns drying his hands on his sides.

Pants soaked, and he thinks he’s funny when he starts pulling on the elastic, showing more of that thick bush concealed inside it.

“I should probably take these off.”

“Please…” His voice is a whimper.

Eyes shot open when he notices he’s thought out loud, he might as well go pick up his plot and suit, his heart is racing so hard and loud he wouldn’t be shocked to learn that Butcher can hear it too.

Butcher doesn’t look horrified in the least, his mouth drops for a second before it turns into a predatory smile, he can see malice in his eyes as he takes a few steps closer, the kitchen too small for the both of them, so close he can feel the heat coming from his chest, he’s seen this grin before and it usually came coated in blood, their feet dance until Hughie is trapped between him and the counters.

Even if the disease had weakened him, he still grabs his wrist with violent strength, ‘he could break his wrist clean’ the panicked voices in his head shout as calloused fingers pull him closer.

“Please, what?” He says with a deep growl.

“...Billy?” he squinted his face not knowing what to do.

“All I can think of right now is ‘Oh what's this?’” He whispers.

Hughie looked down, his own body had betrayed him, the tent in his pants spoke a million words.

“So… what is going on?” He leaned closer, absorbing the gap– did puberty just hit ya?”

His forearm is muscular and veiny, it makes him look dainty by comparison, he gulps as he feels those rugged hands tug at his erection– he knows it's over at this point. 

This felt like a porno, like one of his pubescent fantasies like the ones he had with his algebra teacher where he would pin him to his desk and jerk him off, the kind that sprung to mind every time Mr. Sinclair bend over while wearing those tight khakis that were just the wrong size but it didn’t matter ‘cuz it let Hughie see everything in peace but this isn’t Mr. Sinclair hand tugging at his cock… this is his friend… his boss… the guy he should be running away from.

But he doesn’t he’s jerking his hips following the rhythm of the man as he mocks him, he coos, and says dirty insults into his ears, mocking him for leaking like a bitch, chuckling into his neck petting the stain building up at the tip of his tented pajamas.

Butcher was just teasing him but now he’s fully committed to fucking him up.

He wanted to ruin the young man.

He wants him to remember him until his last breath either as a blissful memory or a horror story.

Dying had him thinking wrong.

Made worse by how little Hughie was resisting, watching the boy biting his lips trying to suppress his moans as he squeezed just a little harder, crumbling under his lip as he whispers in his ears.

“Tell me what you want Hughie.” His voice is gentle, almost needy– tell daddy what nasty little things are in yer mind.”

Hughie hands crawl into Butcher’s chest squeezing at his pecs.

“Blow me.”

“No, ‘pretty please’?”

“Sluts don’t deserve manners.”

His hand does fit perfectly around his neck, Hughie learns. Butcher can only but let out a dry chuckle as he sees the determination on the young man, he’s seen this fire before is the same flame that left third degree burns on his ego in the past.

Butcher licks his lips, his hand leave that crying cock before yanking the man’s pants in one drop, Hughie eyes open wide as his stomach sinks and realizes that Butcher is on his knees, before he can make an apology or command, Butcher tongue draws circles on his blushing tip, long strokes drink his precum clean.

His blood runs cold then boils, his whole body burns so high it hurts in the best way possible, as he feels the inside of that mouth.

Butcher sucks with so much force he could’ve sworn he’s stuck his prick on a vacuum cleaner, he’s drooling as the man sucks him with desperation and need, filthy wet sounds echo across the kitchen, toes curling as he looks down at those darkened eyes– glee and delight as Hughie can’t help himself from moaning louder than Butcher ever could, he’s a vocal boy, Butcher learns. His hand finally find a tuft of hair to pull, forcing Butcher to follow his direction, his other hand under his shirt squeezing at his nipple, Butcher’s spare hand is busy teasing Hughie’s skin, his nails sharp– stroking the tender trembling flesh, squeezing his ass until he knows he’ll leave a bruise.

Slapping the hardened cock on his lips, his smile is more scary than sensual, like he knows he can make him cry if he wanted to.

“I’ll let you cum if you remember your manners, you skinny poof.” His fingers had made a knot at the base of his cock, he gingerly kissed the tip, a playful tease that Hughie can’t fight, he knows he’s at his limit and so does Butcher as he kisses those heavy balls.

Bringing them into the warmth of his mouth as he denies all attention to his member, his tongue swaying side to side, before letting go with a loud pop.

“Oh God! Oh God please William!!”

“What no begging?”

“Fuck you!”

Butcher laughs before choking, Hughie quickly pulls on Butcher’s hair as his mouth gapes to let out a wince, Hughie sticks himself inside it, letting out a loud moan as he feels the warmth again, both hands keep Butcher’s head in place as he turns him into a sleeve, Butcher’s hands growing limp as he just accepts his fate, he’s a trance, a calm wash away him as the young man uses him, a warmth washes over him, he wants Hughie to touch him more, he likes that odd pleasurable feeling everytime his thumb rubs his ears, he likes hearing him grunt as he moans Butcher’s name, going back and forth between ‘William’ and ‘Billy’, it makes his cock tingle.

It comes as a surprise when it rains inside his mouth, its light, the taste slightly sharp, his legs trembling around Butcher, he bucks a few times making sure to leave it all inside Butcher, enjoying every second as his throat clasp around his member.

He looks down as sanity leaves the building so he can admire his work.

Glistening trails connect them, Butcher looks satiated his neck craning as it chases after him, as he pants with exhaustion, Hughie freezes as his tongue touches him again, wanting to clean him not leaving a trace of evidence, making sure he’s taken all that delicious treat for himself.

“I’m going to kill you.” He says as he licks his lip cleans.

“...”

Next thing he knows, he’s been picked up like a potato sack towards the bedroom, the frame almost giving up as he throws him into the firm mattress.

In this light he can see those muscles clearly, that firm body of him hovering on top of him as it rips his shirt off, tearing it without caring it was new, that flushed hairy chest dripping sweat into him, Hughie whines as Butcher tugs on his hair, he never expected to kiss him for the first time after he’d sucked him off first, the rough kiss that gnaws at his lips, that forces its way into his mouth, exploring it eagerly and hungrily, grows needier and softer as Hughie reciprocates, his arms wrapped around broad shoulders, trembling as hardened nubs rub against each other, Hughie kisses like he’s in a romance movie for chicks, moaning against his lips every time Butcher’s hands explore more of him, letting out the sweetest sounds as those sharp nails slide across him, their eyes shut for the most part, just wanting to enjoy the feeling of each other’s bodies, their heat and how amazing it feels to finally give in.

Kissing until jaws are sore but they won’t stop, grindign againts each other until they have to stop just to address the thick puddle in-between them.

“I don’t think we can… y’know go… the whole way…” Hughie sounds apologetic and angry at the same time– I dunno…”

“Is okay, we can do something else” he says softly.

He kisses the younger man’s chin, chewing on his skin leaving hickeys on his neck.

Hughie watchest attentively as the man leaves him for a moment as he takes a large bottle of lube from the side table, flicking the lid open before flipping Hughie around.

“Lift your ass for me baby.” He does as he’s told– damm… who taught youse to arch your back like that? I should send him a christmas card… ” He chuckles lightly.

“What are you gonna do?” He says nervously but equally excited.

“Shhh… just enjoy yourself and follow my lead.” 

He squeezes Hughie’s thight’s together, before letting the warm liquid drizzle onto his behind, smiling as he spasm, fingers spreading the lub where it needs to go, teasing his entrance, slick coated fingers dancing across the sensitive skin, drawing esoteric shapes letting the warming lube take a peek inside him, he slathers more in between his thighs and Hughie finally figures what Butcher’s doing when he feels that thick veiny thing rub it's wet tip against his entrance, spreading his boy pussy, kissing him, teasing holy communion, Butcher inhales sharply trying to control himself, hungry to enter him but he will begrudgingly respect him, spreading some lube on his shaft before lowering the tip.

He fucks the gap, his cock leaking onto Butcher’s as it rubs him, as he feels the agonzing tease of being fucked but he’s not fucking him where he wants the most, he feels shame for enjoying this… he wants Butcher to fuck him for real, not to tie his hand around their cocks, the adrenaline is not enough, is simply not enough.

With each rough trust he becomes painfully aware of just the way he’s not being wrecked.

Arching his back more so he can kiss him better, their bodies glued together, as his arm hook themselves around Butcher’s neck.

“You won! please… please fuck me.”

“Who's the slut now?”

“Me! I get it am your slut now fuck me Butcher!” He’s cute when he’s angry, Butcher thinks– geez…”

Hughie is left running out of breath, he has no idea when he found himself bouncing on his cock while the man just soaked the view, Butcher bucking his hips whenever he felt like it, or fucking him mercilessly, he’s cum three times already but he can’t stop his hips, Butcher just teases him in a way that no other man has, the way he bites on his chest, all those awful names he calls him in between passionate kisses, that terribly excite him.

Tender kisses as they both grow tired, as Butcher cums inside him leaving him full.

“I’ll let you have a round with me later…” 

Hughie looks up as his body collapses beside him, not understanding the proposition at first.

He looks exhausted but happy, there’s a softness in his expression that Hughie has never witnessed before, Butcher plays with Hughie’s hair as the twink plays with the other’s hairy chest.

It begins as a secret game, neither of them speak a word to the others, not out of fear but because it was theirs, all they offer is the same boring thing, even when he sneaks his hand inside Butcher’s pants to squeeze at his ass, spreading him by tugging at the base of the beads, teasing him as the others turn their backs to them at the office.

Both enjoy the twisted thrill of what’s going on between them.

[stranger-rants]

I already think "Fanon Billy is just [insert other canon ST character]" is such a bizarre take, but anyone else feel like they're also doing a disservice to the "canon" characters they claim Fanon Billy is like?

I saw this with someone comparing Billy and Jonathan earlier, which isn't a surprise. (They also said Fanon Steve and Fanon Eddie were Canon Jonathan, so I'm just perplexed at this point. I truly do not understand where that is coming from.) I just blocked and moved on, mostly. We know people are obsessed with this comparison, and it's usually just a means to metaphorically bludgeon anyone who doesn't cope like Jonathan does.

But. I do think this obsession over comparing and arguing what's more or less canon has ruined things for these characters. A lot of fanon is informed by canon in combination with fans who resonate with different aspects of the character and their desire to explore it more. In Billy's case - a lot of fans are people who went through similar forms of abuse and I know the response by some to this has been that if we want a "good" example of an abuse survivor we should look to Jonathan. However, this ignores that not all of us were "good" when we were surviving, and we like Billy because we know that all survivors have the potential for growth and we know from personal experience that it's possible.

Additionally, these comparisons ignore who Jonathan is as a survivor and the unique dynamic of being the older brother to a queer child in the 80s and the son of a single mother who has been away from their biological father for a while. He has a lot of responsibility to deal with, but it's in a different way from Billy who has a live in punisher if he fails at his own responsibilities. It's okay for these characters to have some overlap, but that doesn't mean that they're facing the very same struggles.

Mayhaps the reason why Jonathan doesn't get the attention he deserves is because of the way fans refuse to engage with his story authentically? I know others have talked about how the "good" survivor narrative does a disservice to Jonathan, too, and I have to agree though sometimes those points were made while still condemning Billy as a "bad" survivor. So, it's difficult for me to have deeper conversations with people about that without encountering Billy Slander.

Mayhaps y'all who say these things are obsessed with Jonathan as an abuse survivor in the absolutely incorrect way, considering y'all seem to think that Billy and Jonathan's situations are the same? So you can't fathom that our desire to view Billy as a survivor who is surviving and not just a vehicle for conflict is in no way copying Jonathan for having "survived" abuse more gently... because you see Jonathan as the ideal for survivorship??? When??? Jonathan has his own struggles coping, he just does so more internally. He still doesn't quite know how to talk to people, express his own wants and needs, and deals with trauma and anxiety by "tuning out" of the real world.

I don't know. Nothing makes sense, but I do think this prevents people from seeing Jonathan as a whole person. I mean, he's what people expect from abuse survivors - and this is not a diss to him - but people expect survivors to either shut up about the abuse they endured or fight off their abusers if they really want to be free - both things people praise Jonathan for while ignoring the fact that he should not have been put in that position. Both the way people view "good" survivors and "bad" survivors could get abuse survivors killed, it's just that "bad" survivors are treated as inhuman and worthy of that end whereas the abuse "good" survivors suffer is viewed as such a sad tragedy.

It's definitely a call is coming from inside the house issue. Don't get me wrong, there are plenty of fans who love Jonathan and who aren't like this, but it just baffles me as to where these takes come from.

[duckwithablog]

Hello duck! Sorry for the late response. Life is a bit crazy. I’m glad my presence and my rambles are welcomed with open arms here!

For your question, I’m not sure which trivia you know... Especially if it’s about Sun Wukong… however, I suppose one of the most interesting facts I’ve learned is that the original Six-eared Macaque actually never was said to have six ears. The six-eared actually refers to the six senses, sight, hearing, smell, taste, touch, and mind.

Also, did you see about the new Black Myth: Wukong game? I heard about it weeks ago, but it finally has a release date now! I’m so excited for it.

Lastly, I have been absolutely binge watching anything from Cy yu, aka Alejandro Saab, the new voice actor for Macaque. (RIP Billy Kametz, a dear friend of Alejandro Saab) It absolutely broke my heart to hear that when he took on Billy’s roles, he had Billy’s voice playing over and over just trying to do his best to replicate his voice… I can’t even imagine how hard that must’ve been to do… but he did so well! I hope he gets all the praises he deserves.

Anyways, I hope things are going well for you. Christmas is just around the corner, and I’m hoping you’re spending much of your time with loved ones!

-🍑 anon

Life do be crazy like that. I'm sorry my response is so late as well- hopefully both of our lives get a bit easier soon!!

ooohhh fr? thats super cool ngl!! wonder where the six ear thing being just hearing came from,,, kinda obvious why, bcs u know. EARS. but a cool fact nonetheless!!

YOOO I HAVENT!!! I think i remember watching a demo gameplay of it when I was still in my JTTW/LMK phase. So hyped to see it release soon, cuz it looked great!! Hope you get one once it releases!!!!!

Yeah,, haven't watched s4 yet cuz I lost interest in the fandom at that point, but hearing about Bill's death was so shocking. It's super sweet that his friend got the role. I'm sure he did great!!

What things have u watched that features Alejandro Saab btw? Voice acting be crazy because sometimes I'd search up a voice actor and find out that they also voiced a character from a different show that I liked? And also sometimes get extreme whiplash from the differences in characters?

Case in point: Did you know Daran Norris, voice actor of Cosmo from the Fairly Odd Parents, also voiced Knockout the super sexy transformer from Transformers Prime? LOOK UP KNOCKOUT AND LISTEN TO HIS VOICE. THE FUCKING RANGE. I WAS NEVER THE SAME AFTER KNOWING THIS.

Ty 🍑 anon!!! I hope christmas treats u well too!!! I actually did celebrate something with my family + cousins today, it was nice seeing them again!!

oughh idk how to end this but RAHHH ADVANCED CHRISTMAS TO ALL!!!

[groovesnjams]

"We Didn't Start the Fire" by Billy Joel

DV:

Since the original WDSTF is a frequently-cited contender for the worst song of all time, the concept of doing a cover version that updates its references seems either borderline-genius (because there's nowhere to go but up) or exceptionally foolish (because the core idea is so flawed that there's no value to uncover.) It makes sense that Fall Out Boy would do this, and it makes sense that the result reveals that both things are true. Here's the thing: I come not to bury "We Didn't Start the Fire (A Fall Out Boy cover of the Billy Joel song "We Didn't Start the Fire)" but to praise it. Because it gets right one of the core things that Joel got wrong. The original "Fire" is a series of signifiers, ironically juxtaposed and strung together as disconnected events - a chronolog of nearly half a century that Joel connects into a meta-argument that "things happen" to every generation. But "H-bomb" didn't just materialize out of thin air, nor did "Belgians in the Congo" or the Vietnam war that Joel references a couple times. His is a history without subjects, and consequently without responsibility or blame. "AIDS, crack, Bernie Goetz," he sings: these are presented as merely things that happened, not deliberate choices with moral consequence.

Fall Out Boy make no such pretense. Their "Fire" is a list of events that made an impact on Pete Wentz and crew, abandoning the pseudo-objectivity of chronological order in favor of a random, stream of consciousness approach. "World Trade, second plane" is unquestionably a defining event of the past 30 years, but "Cubs go all the way again" and dual Michael Jordan references only belong on a list that comes from a band that claims Chicago as its hometown. Add Captain Planet and the overly-cute "Prince and the Queen die"? This is something that only Fall Out Boy could - or would - attempt. It's a cliffsnotes version of their specific lifetimes, and can't possibly be seen as anything else. It's dumb - so dumb, like "Trump gets impeached twice/ Polar bears got no ice" is not even the nadir - but Fall Out Boy aren't cloaking their point of view like the world's worst historian (Billy Joel.) I'll gladly take their nonsense honesty over Joel's logical elision of history.

Or rather, I won't, because while Fall Out Boy upgrade the lyrics the fundamental concept here is so useless - and the melody so grating - that it's impossible to want to listen to this godforsaken song more than once, as a curiosity. It says something fascinating about Fall Out Boy that in 2023, a decade into an afterlife that's now lasted nearly twice as long as their original run, they're following up a return-to-form album with a one-off single as wildly misconstrued as this and managing to get even one thing right. I think what it says is, "Imagine Dragons better get their shit together if they want to compete."

MG:

"We Didn't Start the Fire" is an absolutely vile song, a piece of pure capitalist crap. Whether Billy Joel's smooth, solid, original turd or the clasp of dingleberries that make up this cover, it's still flag-waving propaganda barrelling around the bend. How can you both assert your nativist perspective as the center of the universe and excuse yourself and your fellow countrymen for any responsibility in all the wars, slavery, and unfounded hatred we've wrought in our existence? You can't, but it warms my heart that some of the richest men in the last two centuries have attempted the impossible. Fall Out Boy's stab at ironic juxtaposition might be funny in an arch way if Pete Wentz weren't an actually talented lyricist capable of staking out emotional truth in his work. Instead he's wasting his time not quite rhyming "black parade" with "Y2K." And while we're here, are these supposed to be the good events, the bad events, or just the events most worthy of laminating and tacking to the bulletin board? Sandy Hook, Columbine -- brutal, horrific losses of very young life -- on one hand, Meghan Markle and Venus and Serena -- famous black women -- on the other. What's the suggestion here?

Don't bother. There's nothing at the core of this song, nothing on this song's outer rings, nothing at all. Fall Out Boy have robbed these words of the energy they possessed in their inert state, produced meaninglessness where potential once stood. Defending this song is an exercise in tragedy but typing on about something so obviously wretched and doomed isn't a much better use of time.

[bisexual-horror-fan]

*lizzo voice* I’ve been waiting for this one! Turn it up! Anyway it took all the power in me not to turn on anon 😩. Honestly these are gonna be pretty broad so you have creative freedom!! I was wondering if I could have a Poly!Ghostface with breeding being a main focal point 👀. If not main I’ll take minor point! Whatever’s easiest! Also it’s amralice I changed my username LOL

Man you requested this thing foreverrr ago, but I finally was in the mood and got to it. I am gonna thank the new Scream movie on the horizon and also the Ghostface call I got. Breeding kink ain’t my kink but damn if it isn’t fun to write! Especially since I shockingly never have with these two! I hope it was worth the wait and that you all enjoy! 

—

Rating. Explicit. Length. 3.1K. Billy Loomis And Stu Macher X AFAB! Reader. Poly!Ghostface. She/Her Pronouns. Warnings: Biting. Vaginal Fingering. Vaginal Sex. Raw Sex. Creampie. Sloppy Seconds. Threat Of Denial. Dub-Con. Breeding Kink. Dirty Talk. Degradation. Praise. Pet Names. Coercion. Gaslighting. Billy And Stu Being Toxic. Riding. Slut Shaming. Reader Blaming. Restrained Reader. Dumbification. Overstimulation. Begging. Crying. Decryphilla. 

—

Throwing Caution To The Wind.

—

You were smart, cautious and careful. 

Normally.

But ever since two particular boys entered your life you find it harder and harder still to keep your head on straight. They could make a suggestion and from anybody else it would be totally outlandish, something you would never even consider entertaining, but when it came from their mouths, well, it just had a funny little habit of making sense. 

So when you were fooling around one night, stretched out underneath Stu, him kissing your neck, teeth grazing. Billy was by your side, hands everywhere when he said your name softly, you hummed in question and he responded, “Feelin’ good?”

A light and breathy laugh, “To say the least.” but you wanted more, so you asked, as nicely as you usually did, sweetness and heat tying the two words in a bow, opting for simplicity, “Fuck me?” 

Billy didn’t sound disappointed or anything, he said it in a very matter of fact way, “Would love to but we’re outta condoms.”

Shit.

You however were disappointed, you totally meant to pick up more but you spaced on it, and true you could get off in other ways. And while hands and mouths and the rest have their very well loved place, that isn’t what you wanted tonight. You thought, turned it over in your mind, they weren’t letting up, still touching you all over, the teasing was too much and you think, “Fuck it.”

You speak, “We…We could still-” That got their attention, Stu’s head rising from your chest, the nipple he had just had between his lips released with a wet pop, “Still?”

Billy leaned in closer, “Yeah, still?”

A nervous look between them both, a bite of your lip before the pulsing need pushing you forward and the words tumbled out, “We still could if you promise to pull out.” 

The look passed between the pair over your form was quick before they looked back to you, “Are you sure?”

You think for a moment maybe you shouldn’t, maybe this was a bad fucking idea, but then Billy’s hand was between your thighs, deft fingers circling your clit through barely there and soaked lace, pleasure sparks inside of you, makes your legs twitch and your breath stutter in response. Stu was as unhelpful as ever as he returned his mouth to giving attention to your chest and before you truly know what you are saying, those two words slip out on an exhale, “I’m sure.” 

“Well if you’re really sure.” Billy hummed.

You were. You could trust them. 

Soon enough you were deep into it with them, all clothes were forgotten as you got on top of Billy, the feel of him warm, his eyes giving away that he was as full of want as you were. One hand on your hip and the other holding himself at the base of his shaft as he lined up, the hot and hard velvety head of his cock poised at your slick hole and in one smooth move of your hips downwards you took him inside. His reaction was amazing, about the same as yours honestly, first there was a sharp inhale at the sudden rush of sensation, a small tense, and a quiet but definitely vocal moan. It felt fantastic, you from the stretch of him and him from the feeling of you, so warm and so wet, and you both from feeling the other raw for the very first time. 

You started to move, began to ride, tentative, easy, bouncing up and down and holy shit, you didn’t know it could feel this good with him bare, if you did, you might have done this sooner. The build of it was quick, Stu was helping, one hand rubbing your clit, sloppy kisses placed on your neck as you reached back behind yourself, your own hand on him, stroking him as you rode Billy. “How’s she feel?”

A breathless laugh, his head thrown back as he confessed, “In-credible.” 

“Oh I bet, M’ already dying for my turn.” The smile on his face was evident from his tone.

You got very, very distracted after that, trying to keep a good rhythm both for yourself and for Stu, a task that got harder and harder as you got closer and closer to your end, the fingers helping you along, refusing to let up. Your head was swimming, ample moans and panting breaths you feel yourself draw close and warn them as such, a broken and weak, “Gon-gonna cum-”

Stu’s fingers stay consistent, your hips are faltering but Billy’s hands are locked on your waist, he helps you move, keep it up, rocking up into you, fucking up as you are slammed down and you know your orgasm is going to be spectacular. It builds and rises and finally peaks, you tip over and cum, eyes slip closed and the moan that breaks out is loud and blissful. 

You are thoroughly pleased and totally distracted, so overcome with feeling that you didn’t, more than that, you couldn’t gather enough mental awareness to notice Billy’s own end that had also crept up. If you weren’t so consumed with getting yourself off you would have noticed the change in his breathing, the pitch of his own moans, and all those little tells you had gotten to know so intimately that would have clued you into him getting so dangerously close. You cumming pushes him over too, plush walls hugging and squeezing him rhythmically, as if your body were silently begging him to do it, to unload inside you and he complies. Your eyes slide back open, brows furrowed in confusion as you are panting, as your own pleasure subsides you feel the flex of him inside and with a few more gentle moves of your hips, directed by him, still gripping you, a rush of warmth and wetness. 

You shouldn’t be this wet, it felt way more slick so suddenly and as you look down at Billy, his own eyes closed in pleasure, bottom lip caught between his teeth, a harsh exhale out of his nose and red flush on his chest it hits you like a ton of fucking bricks. 

In the haze of you cumming you had let go of Stu and he allowed it to happen, you got up, raising up on your knees and sliding him out, a small hiss from him as you do so, followed right after by the now clearly obvious mix of his cum and your wetness pouring out of you and back onto his slowly softening shaft. You reached down, feel your well fucked hole that was steadily leaking, moving back to see all the mess and you look at Billy accusingly, “You said you were gonna pull out!”

There was this much too comfortable smile on his face, a small shrug, glancing at Stu as he said, “Oops. Sorry.”

Stu laughed and you wanted to smack him, “It’s not funny!”

“It’s a little funny.” Stu defended and you ignored him as you asked Billy, “Why did you do that?!”

“Couldn’t help it. I tried to hold it while you were getting yours but it felt way too good.” He said it in a way that was clearly trying to sway you, when you seemed unmoved he spoke again, “C’mon, don’t be mad at me babe. Didn’t it feel good?”

It did. It totally fucking did but- “That’s not the point!”

“So you admit it did feel good.” He said with a wider grin and you pouted arms cross over your chest, “I didn’t say that!”

“Implied it plenty.” Stu said easily, his hands on you, locking onto your waist and you tried to wiggle away, “Stop it! I want you to take this seriously, I told you not to and you totally violated me-”

That got a laugh from them both, Stu saying with a roll of his eyes, “Yeah you seem really violated when you were cumming like that. The sounds you were making? Sounded like you were really being forced.”

“Totally man, sure felt like you hated every second of it when your cunt was fucking milking me.” Billy continued mockingly as he started to sit up, a hand running through his hair and you wanted to protest, make them apologise but Stu was touching you. He hadn’t let you get away, he was laying more affection of your neck and shoulders, one hand sliding between your legs and you tried to fight him of, “Knock it off Stu-”

“Nope.” You felt him, pressed hot and hard to your hip and he said, “I still gotta get off.” 

You wanted to tell him to fuck off, that no way after this would you but Billy was touching you too again, he’d knocked your arms out of the way and he was playing with your nipples, tugging gently as he says, “He was real patient, let him have a turn.”

“N-no, I don’t want to-” You protested weakly, totally unconvincingly, especially as Stu buried his fingers inside you and felt how your body responded, clenching around his fingers. He was murmuring in your ear sarcastically, “Yeah again, feels like you really don’t want this.”

You give in, an attempt at compromise, “Okay, let me blow you-”

A laugh from the pair, a shake of Stu’s head, and Billy pulling more painfully, “Nope, you’re gonna let him fuck you and you’re gonna love it.”

You wanted to whine, sob, beg, but you felt so needy, you did want to feel him, did want him to fuck you and get off again and again but the risk, the danger of it, you shouldn’t-

Billy’s voice cuts through your whirring and worried spiral in your mind, “We’ll buy you a plan B if it makes you feel better.”

It did. It really did. If they did that then there was no point in denying Stu, you could let him use you too, let him cum inside without further worry so you rush out, “Yes, okay, fuck-”

“Awe there you go, good girl.” His fingers are pulled out and you are pushed down, Stu repositions you, forces you into face down ass up and without any more preamble you feel him against your hole and he slips inside. 

He moans long and low, his body covering yours, you feel his chest to your back, his hands on your wrists, holding you down as he bottoms out. He held deep inside for a moment, feeling you with nothing in between, how loose and lubed you were from the previous load dumped into you, he ground his hips against your ass, another groan leaves him as his head pitches forward, resting on the back of your shoulder. He sounded wrecked already but he always was a massive slut for Billy’s sloppy seconds.

You moan too when he fills you, your eyes sliding closed as he starts to move, slowly, begins to fuck you, deep and hard, barely sliding out halfway before shoving back inside. After a few more moans he pulled out of you with no effort he said, “God, you’re so fucking funny, you know that?”

“Hu-huh?” You moaned out and Stu continued, “Thinkin’ that you could let us fuck you raw and we wouldn’t take the chance to cum in you-” A breathless laugh, a shake of his head, then punctuated by the hardest thrust yet and a moan before he continues to verbally degrade you, “-stupid, stupid whore, only thinking with the gash between your legs.”

Instead of angering you, instead of making you feel everything it should, instead it makes you moan, makes you clench down on him again, makes you feel even more heat spark inside of you and arousal wash over your brain. Maybe you were naive and idiotic to think that they would just pull out, maybe this was- “Your fault. This is all your fuckin’ fault.” Stu whispered harsh into your ear as his hips picked up the pace. 

It was, you were warm and wet, sweet and inviting, you really thought that they could feel you, all of you, bare and alive against them and thought what? That they’d be able to resist not finishing in your abused hole that was gripping onto them for dear life? That same hole that was practically beseeching them to do it? 

It was biology you were fighting against too, your mouth said one thing but your body another totally different. Who were you to fault them for listening to millennia of evolution directing them, telling every sense and fiber of their beings, compelling them to cum exactly the place they were supposed to? In your fertile and ready hole, the one you had for this very purpose. 

This was on you and you alone for asking for too much of them. They were only human. 

This was fucked, totally fucked, you were into this, all of it. The danger, the risk, the moral ambiguity and more still. It fuels you.

You moaned incoherently, started to rock back to meet Stu’s thrusts, Billy sitting up in front of you watching as the blonde fucked you harder and harder. “Oh, seems she really does love it.”

“Yeah she does, you do, don’tcha?” He asked and you nodded, panting as you felt the pleasure building again, a furious nod, his hands released your wrists and a hard smack that landed on your ass made you yelp as he demanded, “Say it!”

“I-I do, I lo-o-ove it, fuck, pl-please! Don’t stop Stu!” You begged pathetically, desperate to ease the ache and to cum again. 

“Oh I won’t.” Stu assured around a laugh and Billy hummed, the sound of skin on skin filling the space of the bedroom around him he spoke, “How bad do you think she wants it?”

“I dunno man, shit, feels like she does pretty bad.” He mused in between his own panting breaths, another groan breaking out and Billy let that hang for a moment before posing, “Bad enough that if we told her we wouldn’t get her that little pill she’d still beg you to cum in her raw?”

“Love the way you think.” Stu confessed and with another brutal and unrelenting thrust he asked, “Well?”

Your mind was so hazy, you could barely keep up but you felt some fear curl in your gut as your clit throbbed and your cunt wept, you didn’t want that, did you? Moreover you didn’t think that they did either, a questioning and wavering moan, a stretched out, pitched up, whiney, “Whaaaat?”

A laugh, Stu mocking what you said, stretching out your “what” in the same way and your head falls forward, resting on your forearms as he uses your body. Billy chimed in then again, recovered from his own small laughing fit, “You heard us. If you wanna cum, if you wanna get off, beg for him to breed you.”

You move your head up, slightly, able to look at Billy, he was staring down at you and you could see he was hard again and was jerking off to the view of you and Stu.

When did this happen? Since when did they get into this kink? You had no time nor the higher faculties to think or question, pleasure was rising quickly, you were so fucking close when Stu’s hips stopped with him buried inside of you. His cock pressed to that sweet spot but un-moving, a sob, you can begin to feel the orgasm slip through your fingers and you didn’t think, just let it pour out of your mouth thoughtlessly, “Please, please, please, fill me, God! I nee-need it, fuck-” 

A broken moan into the sheets, again followed by a breathless but still definitely loud enough for them to hear as Stu resumed his previous pace, “Breed me.”

It only took about five more perfectly placed thrusts for you to cum.

Something else was said, something surely degrading and filthy but you couldn’t hear it, your mind went blank as you shuddered under him, sensation radiating out and making your legs almost give out with a wrecked moan. 

This time the come down took longer, especially since Stu didn’t let up, still ruining your hole, only when you were just beginning to come back to yourself and catch your breath did you feel it. Stu holding deep with a groan and now more aware of it, knowing it was going to happen, you focus a tad better, feel him cum inside and it leaks out of you around him, too full to hold the remnants of Billy’s load and Stu’s with him still stuffed inside. 

When he pulls out a moment later, even more of them spills out, down the backs of your thighs and you finally get to lie down, a deep inhale, your limbs feel sore but you feel very relaxed. You could fall asleep right here and you thought you just might until Billy rolls you over, you feel him settle on top of you, between your legs and when he slides in your eyes fly open with a gasp, he didn’t waste time, fucked into you and Stu said, “Told you we could make her beg for it, you owe me five bucks.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll pay you later-” You tried to find your voice to speak up, protest over this new information, that they made some petty bet over this but he changed the angle, ground on your oversensitive clit and it stole all your fight, your argument, along with your breath. Another squeeze of your walls around Billy that he commented on and you had to admit, if only to yourself, this is some of the best sex you had ever had, not just with them but period, and maybe, you should let this go and be thankful for them leveling up your sex life in this way. 

Regardless, something for future you to worry about and deal with, for now, your legs wrap around Billy’s hips, ankles lock behind his lower back, you reach up, pull him tighter by your fingers tangling in his hair and you beg into his sweat slick neck, “Don’t stop.” 

“There you go, what a good slut.” Stu praised and you were rewarded by a strong press of Billy’s lips against yours.

You finish that afternoon with tears down your cheeks, a cunt full of cum and a head full of confusing thoughts, a new kink unlocked thanks to their inability to listen and their overconfidence that they knew your body better than you could ever hope to. 

[blurhawaii]

yuletide 2022

dear yuletide writer,

another year, another yuletide! hello and thanks for reading my letter. even if you’re not my assigned writer and are just checking it out for the hell of it. i’m still terrible at putting what i like into words, hopefully all this rambling makes sense. just know that the prompts are only suggestions–if you’ve got something else in mind you’re longing to write, then go for it.

and i feel like this goes without saying but i am more than okay with receiving treats.

likes:

dysfunctional relationships eg. codependency, messed up father/son dynamics, enemies to lovers, power imbalances.

vulnerability in men, uncertain intimacy.

UST, slow burn, first times.

supernatural/magical realism/cosmic horror. weird hints of it in an otherwise normal universe.

redemption arcs.

found family.

big loyalty kink. love it when trust is earned and kept.

praise kink.

open and honest communication between partners.

polyamory. it’s the journey of them getting together and making it work that interests me the most. or how a couple goes about bringing in a third person.

stories set in canon. or a divergence of canon. fix-it fics.

soulmate/soulmark fics. i’m mostly interested in these kinds of scenarios when they’re dysfunctional takes on them. e.g. they don’t actually have each other marks but get together anyway.

daemon AUs. i’m especially into the intimacy of touching/comforting each other’s daemons, them expressing thoughts and feelings they otherwise don’t say out loud.

dark/bleak fics. don’t be afraid to drag characters through the mud. happy endings are welcome but i like the struggle.

i’m fine with anything from gen to porn but would be happiest with something in the middle.

canon typical violence is fine and to be expected from some of my choices.

characters and the development of their relationships are more important than plot for me.

dislikes:

AUs that are completely disconnected from canon e.g. high school, coffee shop AUs.

established relationships, unless they are already together in canon

crossovers

genderbending

feminisation of male characters

fics that are entirely fluff

A/B/O fics

PWP

mpreg

first person fics (i have no problem with second person fics tho if you feel like experimenting and think that could work.)

The Departed (2006)

*Billy Costigan               *Sean Dignam

one of my favourite films ever. i request it every year so you can't really go wrong with this as i'm just thirsty for anything.

most of my love is for dignam and his tough love attitude towards his job and the undercovers he's responsible for. i am endlessly endeared by his wild card quality, expletive fueled speech and hair trigger temperament. his father/son relationship with queenan contrasted against billy’s father/son relationship with queenan--how cyclical the whole set up is. his complete disregard for everyone else in that office, especially sullivan. and despite all of that, it's obvious that he cares. i don't think you could do a job like that and not care in some way, and it’s those few and rare moments where we see him soften around billy --we need you, pal-- that's what i would like to see more of. that juxtaposition of good cop/bad cop all coming from the same guy.

shipping fic is what i am craving but honestly whatever you are comfortable with writing is fine, as long as it involves them both. due to the nature of the film i am perfectly comfortable with violence and the screwed up relationship they are bound to have. the friction born of the situation vs the fact that they need each other to get through it is what i am all about.

things that really get me with these two: codependency, power imbalances, the enemies to lovers trope, unexpected moments of vulnerability, loyalty.

prompts:

fics where billy survives are my usual go-to. i'd love something that explores the angst of billy's ‘where the hell were you when i needed you’ reaction towards dignam, supposing that he survives that ending. because from billy’s POV, at least, dignam basically disappears from the film after queenan’s death. maybe dignam still kills sullivan, and billy’s reaction to that. is he thankful or is he pissed?

i’ve wasted a lot of time thinking about the line --why don’t we meet up, sweetheart, let me buy you an ice cream-- the jokey seriousness of it just kills me. if you can somehow write that happening in a believable, in character fic you would earn my eternal respect. whether that’s a clandestine meeting during billy’s undercover period, or some kind of post-film scenario where dignam makes good on his promises, i have no idea but i’d love to see it.

daemon au - very curious how this would impact going undercover. daemons expressing feelings that the characters otherwise can’t. and the intimacy of touching/comforting each other’s daemons is an absolute favourite trope of mine.

soulmate au - either having their names on each other or their first words. or something else more uncommon/unusual. this interests me particularly here for the same reason the daemon au does because i’d love to see how this would work in a universe where you’re going undercover. i’m thinking about that scene where costello is smashing billy’s arm cast and the idea that it could be hiding something other than a wire.

time loop/groundhog day fic - there’s a lot of moments in the film i think they would both like to change, and it kind of makes sense to me to have billy’s survival be the pivotal thing triggering the loop.

Bone Tomahawk (2015)

*Arthur O’Dwyer             *Samantha O’Dwyer             *John Brooder

i’m a huge fan of westerns and i’m a huge fan of thinking too deeply about potential ot3s. bone tomahawk gave me both of these things to gorge on.

every time i watch it i latch onto all the little hints dropped about the kind of relationship brooder has with both of the o’dwyers. he’s a weird, vain, loner, dandy man type who is rude to pretty much everyone else in the film, except the married o’dwyers. it’s established that he was interested in samantha o’dwyer, presumably before she was married, flirted with her, but was ultimately rejected by her. instead of this being a point of conflict in the film, brooder is nothing but cordial with her, respectful even--knowing to go to her when told to find a doctor--and is quick to hold himself responsible for putting her in danger once she is taken.

it would then be very easy for the film to pit brooder and arthur against each other because of this past. but, excluding a couple moments when tensions are high, they’re both unusually friendly with each other. the way arthur jokes about wanting no flirtations between brooder and samantha but still allows brooder to escort his wife into town when he can’t because of his leg. arthur is the only one who ever calls him john. arthur is the only one to ever call brooder out when he’s being too rude, and have brooder actually listen to him and reel his rudeness in. i am especially floored by brooder calling arthur ‘cowboy’ multiple times, in the most fond manner possible. in fact, this might be the only way he refers to arthur, thinking back on it. i also love the little moment where brooder helps arthur down from his horse. such a small moment that means a lot considering the kind of man he’s been shown to be.

the film has an extremely violent end, hopeful in a few ways but largely not. anything written for this would inevitably have to draw on some of this violence, which i am fine with, but i’m mostly interested in how the characters deal with the trauma and less the trauma itself. it probably goes without saying that i ship all three of them in all configurations.

prompts:

anything set before the events of the film. how the three of them might interact on a day-to-day basis in the town of bright hope. how they reached this level of fondness. how outsiders might view the different way brooder interacts with the o’dwyers, compared to the face he shows to everyone else.

brooder lives AU - not gonna lie, my enjoyment of this film dips slightly once brooder is gone. (i’m always pleasantly surprised by how much matthew fox is the MVP here.) but maybe they find him hurt but not quite dead as they’re escaping, and all three of them get to return home. maybe for convenience sake samantha sets brooder up to recover in their home, so she can tend to him and arthur at the same time.

would love to see something that explores brooder having to come to terms and live with the amputation of his hand, considering how vain he is. he explicitly states in the film that he’d rather die than live like that, but maybe the o’dwyers can help him through this with what i imagine would probably have to be tough love.

Il buono il brutto il cattivo | The Good The Bad and The Ugly (1966)

*Blondie                     *Tuco Ramirez

i rewatched this recently and it sent me down a bit of a spiral of watching spaghetti westerns. i love the landscapes, the loneliness, talking around campfires under the stars, sharing a smoke, the constant underlying search for fortune and a place to settle down. the good the bad and the ugly remains my favourite simply because it has all these things and the added bonus of an antagonistic, reluctant partnership. and i especially love when partnerships eventually grow a layer of trust, no matter how flimsy.

these two fascinate me because the whole set up of their partnership in the beginning--the bounty hunting and the subsequent rescuing from the hanging--requires so much trust between them, and i am a firm believer that there is a certain amount of fondness between them, even when they’re trying to kill each other. this feels obvious to me by the end, what with blondie going out of his way to orchestrate a situation where tuco lives.

i love the darkness and the humour of their relationship and how they can both be deceptively smart when they need to be. i feel like they really do bring out the best and the worst of each other, in way that can only happen when you feel very strongly about someone. i do ship them but would be fine getting something that just explores their relationship.

prompts:

anything that explores the willingness of tuco putting a rope around his neck. how they got themselves into that situation, the trust it requires on tuco’s part to do that, the discussion they must have had to hash out all the details. maybe there’s a part of this deal we don’t see in the film, some kind of quid pro quo thing where blondie lets tuco do the same to him when they’re alone, as a way to even the score and it’s probably the only way to get tuco shut up about it. go as kinky as you like, breathplay and choking kink is welcome. i have a tiny obsession with the black neckerchief the man with no name usually wears, how thick it is, how he always wears it so close to his throat. if you can incorporate that somehow i would be crazy pleased.

post film reunion. would they just fall back into routine? whether that is going back to the bounty hunting scam or trying to kill each other again. i kind of doubt either of them would be able to hang onto the money for very long but what if one of them does use the money to buy some land. what if there was some very strange domesticity for a time.

weird west. go wild with ghosts, hauntings, legends of the old west. i love it most when the weirdness sits on the outskirts and creeps slowly into canon.

feel free to try out a soulmate/daemon fic here. it could be an interesting interpretation of the trust they development. even more so when they still trade murder attempts.

Uncharted (2022)

*Nathan Drake                   *Victor Sullivan

i’m a fan of the games which, in turn, should probably make me dislike this film. however, i regrettably had an okay-ish time with it. i wouldn’t exactly call it good but it was a passable buddy adventure film. uncharted 3 was always my favourite game because it focused on the relationship between these two, on how they met specifically, and so i was pretty much predetermined to get some enjoyment out of this concept here.

the things i like: the older man/younger man, mentor/protege dynamic. the competency shown when treasure hunting, pick-pocketing, pilot/flying kink. the friction of sully’s prior relationship with nate’s brother, how that didn’t end well, how that affects his and nate’s relationship, the insecurity of being seen as a replacement. i like that nate eventually softens sully’s edges but i also like that they are still kind of dicks to each other. i, for some reason, even enjoyed all the bubblegum teasing, the fondness towards sully and his cat, and the terrible attempt at sully’s infamous mustache at the end. and i cannot believe it’s canon that they spent many hours spooning in the trunk of that car.

i do ship it. i have since the games and i’m fine with acknowledging the age gap.

prompts:

a case fic of sorts. just them on the hunt for treasure. more focus on how they learn to work together when nate is more used to working alone and sully sees a lot of nate’s brother where he probably wishes he didn’t. maybe sully acknowledging how different his and nate’s dynamic is in comparison. because of feelings.

any kind of exploration into role reversal. some kind of situation that puts nate in charge. sully, despite being the older/more experienced one, being forced on the back foot.

i love the moments in the games when it crosses over into the supernatural. where, for the most part, the universe is perfectly normal, but the deeper they get the more things like yetis and immortality just becomes the norm. like indiana jones films when the religious objects and myths exist just below the surface. i would love something where they stumble on it during a treasure hunt.

The Color of Money (1986)

*Eddie Felson                 *Vincent Lauria                    *Carmen

i almost nominated this but eventually dropped it for something else. so i was pleasantly surprised to see someone else had thrown it into the ring.

the thing i really love about this film is that it’s made very obvious that they are all bad for each other. all three of them make each other worse in some way, and it’s largely about the corruption of goodness. most obviously of vincent, but i think it could be argued for all of them.

i like how each pairing gangs up on the other for different reasons at different times to best reach their goal. how eddie and carmen use vincent’s naivety and his softer heart against him. the way they work together to manipulate vincent--you make him feel good, i teach him how to run. how they both share the understanding that they’re not good people--they’re professionals, vincent.

i love the older/younger dynamic and the attempts at being a mentor between eddie and vincent. but i especially appreciate that the film lampoons the idea of it being a father/son kind of relationship when they use it in a grift and treat it like a joke. same with eddie and carmen when he outright says it’s not like that. eddie allowing vincent to get hurt to teach him a lesson, but then touching him with kid gloves when he checks out the damage done. the unavoidable phallic-ness of eddie giving vincent the pool cue--he’s been thinking of nothing else all day. then there’s the betrayal of vincent throwing his game against eddie. being confronted with the fact that they’ve created this monster, so what did they honestly expect would happen?

vincent becoming jealous of eddie and carmen acting like a couple. but which one is he jealous of exactly? eddie throwing his money around, sugar-daddying the younger couple. but also trying to keep his distance at the same time.

the way vincent and carmen keep pushing eddie, like letting him into their room while they’re showering and getting dressed. contrasted with the moments where we see them hanging out, watching tv together, just being happy in each other’s company. and the odd kindness they show him sometimes, like when eddie eventually gets played himself.

i definitely ship all three of them in all configurations.

prompts:

anything set during their time on the road. maybe having to share a hotel room for some reason. not sure if the ‘there’s only one bed’ trope counts when there’s three of them, but i’d still love to see it. vincent and carmen having to coax eddie into the bed with them because an old man like him shouldn’t be sleeping in a chair. stopping at diners, driving late into the night, deep conversations, falling asleep on people, fooling around in the back seat and the voyeurism of the third person pretending not to watch.

eddie and vincent teaching carmen how to play pool. maybe they’re the last ones left at a pool hall late at night. and their natural one-upmanship takes over.

anything post film where they keep running into each other. tripping up each other’s plans and grifts on purpose. 

[thesinglesjukebox]

MORGAN WALLEN - "LAST NIGHT"

We conclude Country/Folk Thursday with the top song of the year, and current bottom song of the year for us...

[3.06]

Taylor Alatorre: User: "Please compose a paragraph-length song review, otherwise known as a 'blurb,' for a collaborative music writing website called The Singles Jukebox. The song in question is 'Last Night' by Morgan Wallen, who was an established star prior to your January 2022 cutoff but has since leapt into superstardom. Your blurb should briefly reflect on this rise on popularity before moving on to discuss the song itself, noting its subject matter of a drunken tryst within a troubled relationship, set to the backdrop of a repeated acoustic riff and soon accompanied by percussive hip hop-style snapping that heralds the apotheosis of the early 2010s 'bro-country' style. The next part of the review should be a joke about the large number of songwriters on Wallen's albums, and how the predictability of these assembly-line productions is reminiscent of the uncanny, routinized output of language models such as ChatGPT. Please try to avoid making the joke a hackneyed or trite one, though I recognize the difficulty of this. Finally, end the blurb with a more positive couple of sentences that justify the decision to avoid giving the song an aggressively low numerical rating -- perhaps praising it for not imposing itself on the listener or taking up too much of their time, or for creating a sonic atmosphere that somewhat evokes the feelings it's describing. The overall tone of the blurb should be jocular, yet insightful." [ There was an error generating a response ] [4]

Wayne Weizhen Zhang: There's a reason that discourse about the musical dimensions of the longest running Billboard #1 doesn't exist: outside of its noxious role in today's culture wars, "Last Night" is utterly boring. [3]

Will Adams: Really sums up the dire state of this year's Billboard chart that of the spate of country #1s we saw, perhaps the least odious was a song by Morgan Wallen. "Last Night" hits the marks of your standard crossover via a slick production, but it hovers. We're left anticipating a Zedd-esque drop that never arrives. [4]

Edward Okulicz: This song was huge, and I probably didn't need to hear it again but in the interest of critical integrity I did. And then it kept playing the album, and I was horrified that it all sounded well-crafted -- except that each song has a bit that sounds like it was left blank for a committee to insert a gratuitous reference to booze. "Last Night" at least makes sense. I know he's a dick, but dicks sometimes make passable art. [6]

Ian Mathers: I try not to let past biases or other factors cut me off from music, especially what's popular, because engaging with that stuff is always interesting even when I don't like it. But if the price of never having to listen to the likes of this dude again is never quite understanding the genre that was incredibly popular in my hometown when I was growing up and I hated, and if he seems like a huge piece of shit too? Fuck it, I'll take that deal. I hate "I like everything but rap and country" BS the same as most here, but if we all get our own little niches to be personally reactionary about, this particular flavour of bro-country is mine. [0]

Frank Falisi: What exactly is a "Morgan Wallen?? An $80 haircut that smells like brand tie-in whiskey, which is to say, paint thinner? A law firm that represents boring pop country songs? ("The song in question didn't know any better, your honor, and its love of Jason Mraz clearly speaks to its high moral character.") An "Alan Smithee" pseudonym Nashville songwriters credit to projects they'd rather disown? Say what you will about the tenets of Billy Ray Cyrus, at least his pop's got the beef. The disemboweled "Last Night" sounds like at least three instruments have been removed from the mix, like the chorus went unfinished but not in an interesting Roy Orbison aria way. It suggests the purest calcification of Nashville cultural aesthetic as the dominant songwriting engine of country songs. "Last Night" is a country song a la la croix: essence and static, wisps of myths, handclaps so you don't forget to. It doesn't ever start, so it never feels like it ends. You can't just say you're singing about desire. You have to actually sing it. Doesn't a song about kissing need to have a body? [1]

Katherine St Asaph: "Last night we let the liquor talk -- I can't remember everything we said, but we said it all." So you can remember it, then. What exactly did you say? As Sam Sodomsky wrote in Pitchfork, Morgan Wallen's music now has the double task of functioning as love songs or drunk songs or whatever, while alluding as vaguely as possible to the real-life events (i.e., getting filmed saying racial slurs) that he knows he's being forgiven for. Did the songwriters have that in mind? Probably not; nothing about "Last Night" has the specificity to be meant for any particular singer. Does the subtext loom? Yes, and hard; that's probably part of why this went No. 1. But a larger part is surely "Last Night"'s routine politeness. I miss when bro-country sounded bro-y. And when I didn't think I'd ever write the words "the enduring influence of Taio Cruz's "Dynamite." [2]

Leah Isobel: "You know you love to fight / And I say shit I don't mean" is really the whole story here, huh? It would be interesting if Morgan took the position of an unreliable narrator -- if that line was meant to come across as an insecure projection -- but the way he flips the title around to land precisely on the tonic indicates to me that, no, he's supposed to come across as a clear-eyed truth teller. And the truth he's telling is one shared by many: that men always deserve context and understanding; that women are always crazy; that entrenched power differentials are natural and good. Why else would he be so popular? [3]

Brad Shoup: This is dirtbag music in the worst possible sense. It's nearly three minutes of someone being hunted for sport. Like the townspeople of Wake in Fright, Wallen cultivates a boozy grayness wherein only he can draw out black and white. His would-be ex's friends send her back; her calls never reach her mother; her truck never makes it out of his driveway. It feels like horror-movie shit. Country usually deals with these situations wryly or with regret. He's just smug: a drunken master of sex and debate. The only time he cracks is when he barks "I know you packed your shit": an ominous sneer. Otherwise, Wallen is flat, just bobbing along the mud-brown production, a mush of perfunctory snaps and guitar. Out of everything on One Thing at a Time, this song feels legitimately evil. [0]

Alfred Soto: The Morgan Wallen Problem wouldn't exist if he wasn't a rather ruthless chronicler of his own dissipation. Let's face it: just about all of the (many, many) songs on his last two albums depict embarrassments, whether it's saying the wrong thing to a woman or picking unnecessary fights, but all for the sake of another shot. The songs would be as sodden as him if the negotiation between programmed beats and hot country band weren't so careful. The guitar twang of "Last Night" complements his Bert-of-Sesame-Street gnarl, and as a result I've no problem with this mega-hit sharing space with a similar Zach Bryan tune -- only Bryan isn't as good a collaborator. [8]

Aaron Bergstrom: A love song to alcohol and spite with an incidental romantic relationship tacked on for cover. Just imagine how exhausting it must be to be be friends with either of these people. [2]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: I have not categorically ruled out the possibility of enjoying Morgan Wallen -- I liked "7 Summers" a lot! But this is dire. What was once a crowd-pleasing lack of specificity in his work has become complete blankness, the four writers here managing to include no relevant details about any aspect of what they're writing about. "Last Night" is one of those songs that's a massive hit by any standards but has inspired essentially no worthy critical appraisal, a piece of pop dark matter looming in the background of the culture, too boring to analyze. Every line, every production choice, every aching honk in Wallen's voice is a Potemkin village. [2]

David Moore: I've gone the whole year without knowingly hearing this song. It's fascinating -- the unholy endpoint of Lil Nas X and Taylor Swift's shadow transformation of modern country's sound (hypnotic go-nowhere rhythmic twang, clumsy rap cadence, restriction of vocal range to three to five inceessantly repeated notes, markedly reduced distance between verse and chorus) as interpreted, not unfaithfully, by some racist C.H.U.D. [3]

Harlan Talib Ockey: What if Maroon 5 went country? [1]

Jonathan Bradley: Wallen structures "Last Night" like a rap song, his wandering guitar figure looping back on itself like the Red Hot Chili Peppers sample that Crazy Town used on "Butterfly." There's also some rap cadence in how he delivers his lyric, which country singers like Sam Hunt have proven can be effective for this storytelling genre, but here it reveals the weakness in Wallen's narrative. He just doesn't have a lot to say, and what he does have to say isn't very inspired. Wallen let the liquor talk, he can't remember everything he said, he said shit he don't mean (yikes, maybe this isn't a subject you want to bring up, dude). The anger and angst in his voice as he growls "you packed your shit and slammed the door" is the rare moment where it sounds like he might be referring to a specific event rather than a generic couple's fight, and "you call your mama and I call your bluff" is a good-enough bit of wordplay. But for the most part, this is a sub-three minute song that returns to its bland hooks too often. [4]

John S. Quinn-Puerta: As much as I want to find the repetition annoying, and as intolerable as the keyboard affectation of the looping acoustic becomes, I can't deny I enjoy this. There were undoubtedly some truly awful high school talent show covers of this around my hometown last spring, but I might have joined in on them twelve (TWELVE?!) years ago. It's the persistent singability of the melody coupled with the tragic human affection for patterns. This is what Heat Waves did to me all over again. [6]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: I'm afraid this sounds too much like the first song I learned on guitar -- City and Colour's "Hello, I'm In Delaware" -- to truly hate. I just wish Wallen didn't add the stock drum track; the song is propulsive enough in both its gliding melodies and self-impressed vitriol. He sings with a smirk, well aware that he's getting away with every empty word, and it's catchy enough that you know people will join in. Someone should probably **** him. [6]

Nortey Dowuona: Fuck Morgan Wallen and everyone who loves him. [0]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox ]

[glitchstoxicwaste]

MMMM Brahms and Billy request (if you aren’t too busy!)

What are some of your favorite HCs you have for Brahms and Billy? And then what are some ones you’ve seen floating around in the fandom aether that you really like?

Brooooooooo

I got asked NSFW for all slasher, this, AND fluff headcanons?! 🥰

Slashers | Brahms | Lenz

Headcanons!

TW: Sexual themes but not smutty, rape and abuse in Billy’s.

Continue under the cut!

Brahms Heelshire!

I feel that, after so many Nanny’s got uncomfortable with his Childlike behavior and voice, he kinda grew up? Like, when you’re around he never acts like a child.

You know he’s holding back from it, so you like, let him let it out, and so after trusting you and releasing the inner child he never had, he grows out of it and matures later on.

I feel he loves when you play with his hair, it feels good.

He may have grown up but he loves your praising, it makes him happy.

He will help do chores around the house in exchange for praise.

Will start to take his mask off around you more often.

Doesn’t go into the walls unless necessary, like, checking the house for intruders whether that be animal or human, and to get to a room faster if you need him.

Let’s you leave the house more, he trusts you and doesn’t want you to feel trapped in the house.

Man is a husky, he sheds his hair and it’s all over the place constantly.

Cuddle bug from hell.

Isn’t as horny as most people make him out to be, he’s just heavily touch starved.

The library is filled with books, and so he reads them because he likes books.

Keeps track of the money he has, he may be rich but it isn’t an infinite.

He won’t leave the house unless it’s to go on a picnic with you out in the woods.

He has anger issues but after an incident that hurt your relationship with him, he tries to calm down before blowing up.

Below are headcanons I read and I love!

He only bathes when you’re in the tub or shower with him! He prefers you cleaning him because it’s an excuse to have your hands all over him and vice-versa.

His dad gave him the romance and porn mags, c’mon, Mr. Heelshire was a young boy once too, he knows what it’s like.

Slightly childish and will place things you need into higher shelves if you’re shorter than him.

After a while he gets rid of the Chore List completely because he wants all your time and realizes that what was on the list was mostly common sense and regular responsibilities.

Billy Lenz!

Calls specifically when you’re around the phone or the only one home.

Shyly introduced himself to you, by asking over the phone bush you would like to see him, if the answer is yes then he will say “don’t scream”, hangs up, then leaves the attic to meet you at the phone.

You taught him to not speak in third person so much, so he doesn’t as often, but his mental state causes him to do it sometimes.

His hands and feet are FREEZING, and he loves to shove his hands up your shirt all the time.

During the night he will rub his cold ass feet on the backs of your thighs to jolt you out of sleep.

Isn’t the biggest fan of Christmas considering his past.

Went into a state of delirium (like he did when your house was the sorority house that caused him to kill everyone) and he does something that caused a little tear in your relationship.

You helped him calm down a little, and so now he’s all smiles and suggestively flirtatious.

He too loves praise, he never got praises as a child and so he nearly cried when you called him a “Good Boy”.

The only person who ever said “I love you” to him was his father, so when you say it for the first time he does cry.

Loves cuddles.

He’s not a sex craving creep like most people believe.

Has an oral fixation, hence why he drools a lot.

Adores cats and stole Clause as his cat.

Below are headcanons i read and love!

Makes killer hot coco!

Has a rare liver disease called jaundice causing his skin to be yellow.

His mother and father hated one another, but his father loved him, his mother hated him due to his appearance reminding her of her husband.

His mother and her boyfriend killed his father.

His mother raped him, to which she got pregnant with his sister/daughter Agnes.

He sexually abused Agnes because that’s what his mother did to him, he also was abused regularly.

His mother locked him into the attic on Christmas.

He escaped a mental ward and ran to the sorority house, which was his childhood home, stayed in the attic because he was locked in there, after he killed everyone except Jess the Sorority was turned into YOUR home.

He hates Christmas because that’s when his mother locked him away.

[plaid-shirtsandvibranium-arms]

Nemesis: Retribution (2)

Summary: 10 years after the Avengers had left you for dead during a mission gone wrong, you unexpectedly re-enter their lives. Wholly unrecognizable from the person they used to know and now with a new team behind you, they ask for your help to stop a chain of syndicates who were manufacturing and peddling the super soldier serum. You were determined to say no until the chance at the vengeance you had been chasing for years was added to the offer.

Fandoms: Avengers, Marvel, MCU, The Punisher, Daredevil

Pairings: Female Reader x (Frank Castle, Billy Russo, Matt Murdock, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Pietro Maximoff)

Warnings: MENTIONS OF SMUT FOR THIS CHAPTER. SHAMELESS SEXUAL BEHAVIOURS. (18+ ONLY), polyamorous relationships, reverse harem, blatant disregard for canon timelines and events, mentions of illnesses, momentary fluff, bit of angst care of Bucky, Punisher canon level of violence and gore, rejection, bullying, heartbreak, character death

A/N: I couldn’t resist not posting this early. Here you go. Next ones will probably take a while coz I have to be an actual adult for a bit. 

No permission is granted to repost, steal, or translate my work. Not even a credit makes it okay. Tumblr is the only place I post my writing. If you see it anywhere else please report it.

Series Masterlist | Full Masterlist

1:2 Dark Chocolate

A few days of rest was required to recover from a super soldier's punch. The doctors had said that you were lucky Steve hadn't punched you with full strength or else you would probably have a whole cracked rib cage. You were anxious to jump back in to training, not used to being idle for very long.

You were given some painkillers at the clinic and ordered to stay there for the rest of the afternoon for monitoring. When you woke up, it was early evening and a blonde super soldier was napping on a steel chair next to your bed. He jumped when you moved to sit up, his heightened senses alarmed and disoriented for a second before he quickly switched to repeatedly apologizing to you. You laughed out loud. It was just a little ridiculous to you to see such a commanding presence in the field so charmingly boyish and adorably embarrassed.

Steve was a comforting presence but to be honest you were hoping to see Bucky. You didn't get a chance to thank him since he left immediately after the doctors had ushered you into the examination room. Once you were cleared to return to training, you caught sight of his long brunette hair and the bright smile on your face couldn't be stopped. It was the glare he pinned you with that made you halt your approach.

He was back to his disapproval of your very existence.

You had to admit that it stung. You thought that you were getting somewhere with him after he helped you. At least somewhere outside of the realm of outward disdain. And maybe you were hoping just a little bit that it could lead down the road to him feeling the same about you.

The timing was perfect when you were assigned to your first official mission with the Avengers. It was a chance to prove your worth to the team and to Bucky in particular. A chance to maybe make him see you as more than just a troublesome recruit.

You came back from the mission with your head held high and absolutely glowing with confidence at the kudos from Sam and Natasha. The great Natasha Romanoff had complimented your sniping skills, picking off enemies in her area even before she could aim her own gun at them.

The first thing you wanted to do after getting back to the Compound was to tell Bucky. You wanted to brag a little bit and maybe even thank him for the mentoring. If he hadn’t been so hard on you then you wouldn’t have pushed yourself to be at this level. You were skipping down the halls of the Compound in search for him, clutching the bullet casing from your first official Avenger kill.

FRIDAY had informed you that he was in the training area and you were bouncing on your feet with excitement. As you entered though the place was empty, the rest of the agents having retired to the mess halls. You ventured further in, trusting FRIDAY’s intel until you heard some noises coming from the adjacent armory. You smiled, he must be cleaning his guns again.

As you got closer, the noise began to get louder until you could make out what was undeniably pleasured moaning, one low and gravelly while the other more high pitched. You should have turned away, if only for the privacy of the couple who was wrapped up in their passion, but your curiosity pushed you to come closer and peak through the small crack in the door.

The brief image that you saw made you instantly draw back, a shaking hand pressed to your mouth to silence the shocked gasp. You backed away slowly, your mind struggling to process what you had just seen, then your flight response kicked in and you ran like hell out of there. The scene was burning a hole in your brain and caused your skin to grow cold. Sergeant Barnes rutting hard against a woman wrapped around his waist, his glinting eyes locked with yours, and a cocky sneer on his face.

You didn’t go to dinner that night or to the team celebration for a successful first mission. You chose instead to lay in your bunk with tears burning in your eyes and trying to erase the memory of your discovery. Of course he was already dating someone. A man of his caliber was sure to have a line-up of gorgeous eager women at his disposal. He probably had no interest in boring recruits like yourself. The woman he was throwing into bliss must be some supermodel or high ranking spy. How did you even end up deluding yourself that you could possibly catch his eye?

The rest of your roommates filtered in after a few hours, chatting away noisily about the party. Anna had come to sit on the edge of your bed and ran a comforting hand along your arm, concern clearly etched on her face.

“I’m fine. Just tired. The mission really wore me out,” you muttered with a small smile. You weren't ready to talk about it yet.

“Personally I think I had better success today than all of you,” Kim’s shrill voice cut through the good natured conversations in the room.

She wasn’t part of the group taken on the mission, claiming beforehand that she was ill. A chorus of curious why’s rang out through the group and she preened at once again being the center of attention.

“Well I just had the fuck of a lifetime from none other than Sergeant James Barnes.”

The room of women burst into chaos; squeals of disbelief, rapid fire questions on how big he was and how good of a lay was he, were they dating now or was this a fuck buddy situation. Of course Kim was more than happy to entertain each question.

You tuned all of it out, the noise turning into an annoying ringing in your ear. You turned around to face the wall as the silent tears that refused to be contained any longer fell to wet your pillow. You barely registered Anna squeezing your shoulder or the words that Kim threw your way.

“Sorry, Y/N. I guess I was just more Bucky’s type.”

You curled yourself into a tighter ball as the pain in your chest radiated across your whole body. You had assumed wrong about Bucky. It seemed that he wasn’t opposed to dating new recruits.

He was just opposed to you.

The taunting from Kim continued on and you just couldn't take it any longer. You brushed the tears away, grabbed your sweater, and marched yourself to the door. You needed to get some air. You needed to get away. Anywhere but there. You wrenched open the door and almost came crashing straight toward a solid chest. Your eyes travelled up to lock with the kind blue gaze of Captain America. You wondered why Steve was standing at the doors of your bunkers holding a pack of beer in his hand.

"Good evening, ladies," he said to the room of now suddenly speechless females. "I'm just going to borrow Y/N for a bit."

The crowd remained in shocked silence while you stared at him in confusion as he smiled sweetly down at you. He had gone looking for you when he didn't see you at the celebration after Natasha and Sam had sang your praises to him at your performance. He wanted to congratulate you and bring you a drink for a job well done.

"Come on. I know a good spot," he said, placing a hand on your back and guiding you out.

Steve brought you to the top of an observatory in the Compound. It was quiet, peaceful, and offered a great view. He cracked open a bottle for you and the conversation just flowed naturally. He kept making you laugh until your sides hurt with stories about his time as a performer in the military and all the unfortunate videos that came with it. You were crying with pure joy when he relented and re-enacted his buy military bonds act, your earlier darkened mood forgotten for the moment.

Steve felt like he did something right when your glassy eyes and defeated expression was replaced with clear amusement. Even if it was at his expense. He wouldn't ask what the reason was, but he felt happy he made you feel better.

"Thank you, Steve," you muttered before you parted ways. Somehow both of you understood that it was more than just for the drink.

You promised yourself then that you would give yourself tonight to weep over your unfortunate romantic feelings. Only for tonight. Come morning you would focus all your energy on what you actually came here to do; become an Avenger. You slept fitfully that night, the shell casing from your first mission still gripped in your hand.

You made a conscious effort after that day to limit your interactions with Bucky and Kim to polite clipped conversations. At first Bucky had been surprised at your change in attitude, your blank expression and sparse words causing a momentary guilt to flash in his eyes. You had chosen instead to spend more time with Steve and the twins, your mood obviously brighter around them.

You were sitting now in a large conference room for a briefing on the next mission with a handful of other recruits when Sam Wilson sent you out to fetch the rest of the Avengers who were running late and not responding.

"Can you get them for me, sweetheart?" he chuckled, knowing that you blushed uncontrollably each time he used a nickname on you.

FRIDAY had directed you to the private common room exclusive for their use. You were about to knock on the door when you heard your name in the middle of what sounded like a heated argument. Against your better judgement, you leaned in closer.

"I don't think Y/N's cut out to be part of this team."

Your heart dropped. The conviction in Bucky's voice was clear. It was one thing for your infatuation with him to be forcefully thrown back at your face, but for him to explicitly state to a set of people that you held at such high esteem that you were not good enough was a whole other vicious heartbreak.

Lily was wrong. This time you should have known when to quit.

You forced yourself to crack the door wider and step inside, clearing your throat to announce your presence. You didn't see the startled look on their faces or the guilty one that followed when they realized that you had heard. One look at your sad glistening eyes that refused to look up confirmed it. Natasha and Steve both threw Bucky a deadly glare.

"Sam wants you all at a briefing. I was sent to come get you."

Your voice was so small and unsteady, none of the easy happiness and optimistic determination that it usually carried. Bucky felt the shame burn through him, the guilt drowning him in an instant. You weren't supposed to hear that. He took a step towards you, instinct driving him to do anything to wipe that defeated look off your face, but a threatening look from the twins pinned him in place.

"We'll walk back with you, little star," Pietro said softly, appearing beside you and wrapping an arm around your shoulder. Wanda came on the other side, looping your arm with hers.

For the rest of the briefing, you strained with the effort of focusing on Sam while blatantly ignoring Bucky. You knew he was staring a hole at the back of your head, but you couldn't allow yourself to give him any satisfaction by looking back. You were soon assigned your tasks, you being placed on sniper duty again having performed well the last time.

It was supposed to be a run of the mill mission for intel and taking out a criminal base, but with the expectation of more hostiles so a slightly bigger team was necessary. You practically flew out of the room when you were dismissed, not giving anyone a chance to talk to you. A decision was solid in your mind now for when you got back.

This would be your last mission.

The ride on the jet to the location was spent with you cleaning your gear and checking your weapons. You were sliding a few knives in place when Bucky came in front of you holding out another set of knives for you to take.

"You know if you tilt the hilt to the left you can fit more in one holster," he said.

It was odd hearing him with almost warmth in his tone toward you. If it had happened yesterday, you probably would be celebrating this fact. You nodded at him, but didn't say a word.

"Remember to keep your head low and stay on your post. Okay, doll?"

You nodded wordlessly again. Because you made a point not to look at his face, you missed the way he was struggling to say more to you and the disheartened look when you obviously weren't going to answer him. You ignored him for the rest of the ride, choosing to focus on reviewing the intel.

As far as bad intel could go, this had to be the worst. You were perched up on a densely covered hill a good distance away from the base that the rest of the team were storming. You were picking off as many hostiles coming out of the base as quick as your hands would allow. Your fingers were starting to ache from the constant reloading, your eyes stung from the gunpowder, and your lip was already bleeding from biting down on it.

The noise in the comms was pure mayhem. Each team member trying to ask for help, for backup, for a plan. You had all come expecting a fight but not an army prepared to defend. You were certainly not expecting HYDRA.

"They have Bucky."

Three words spoken that sent a cold dread to wash over all of you. HYDRA couldn't be allowed to take Bucky. You abandoned your post without a second thought and sprinted down toward the base, pistols at the ready for anyone coming your way.

"Last location," you asked urgently as you slipped into the building shooting down two agents immediately.

"West wing. Near the last corridor," Steve grunted, clearly having a hard time on his end. "Y/N, do not engage!"

"I'm the closest one, Cap."

"I'm close too. Just a little busy," Natasha huffed. "I'll follow, Y/N. Steve, we need to get the hell out of here."

Steve had reluctantly agreed, seeing that there was no other choice. He quickly barked orders and commanded you to keep safe. You nodded although he couldn't see it as you wove through the corridors at full speed in search of your teammate. The moment you barged into that last room, your eyes found an unconscious Bucky immediately.

Seeing him in that chair horrified you; shirt ripped, bleeding in several areas, skin pale and cold with sweat, chest rising and falling far too rapidly, and eyes that were unresponsive. You were so distracted by the jarring image that you failed to notice the operatives across the room until the bullets were burning through your soft flesh.

You screamed from the pain, but raised your gun and fired back until you heard their bodies thud heavily on the floor. You clutched at your side, the amount of wet blood pouring out was alarming. You pushed your own welfare aside and hurriedly undid Bucky's restraints. It was a struggle to sit up a semi-conscious super soldier and when you took his weight on your shoulders, you collapsed to the floor at the intense pain in your arm. You hadn't realized that you had multiple shots there too.

You gritted your teeth and groaned at the effort of lifting you both up, your blood soaking through your gear as well as Bucky's. You huffed painfully with each step but you just had to get him out of there. You could have kissed Natasha square in the mouth when you saw her come barreling towards you.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Y/N!" she winced at your state before taking Bucky's other side. Apparently you looked as bad as you felt. "We gotta move fast. I hear more of them coming up this way. This path is clear."

Having Natasha's help in carrying Bucky alleviated some of the burden from you and made you all move faster, but the blood loss was already starting to make your vision blurry and the adrenaline was wearing off. Through the haze, you could also hear the rapidly approaching footsteps. Soon you would be basically useless and you knew there was no way Natasha could carry you both out while fighting off a hoard of enemies.

"Natasha," you said quietly, your steps faltering.

"No. Keep going goddamn it!" Natasha cried.

She knew what you were thinking. She had assessed the situation too and come to the same miserable conclusion. You smiled sadly at her angry eyes and shaking head as you let go of your hold on Bucky. Her eyes widened further as you limped toward the doors behind you and locked them tight before raising your guns to aim right at anyone who would come through them.

She didn't miss how your hands were shaking and your shot arm could barely hold up, the way you scowled deeper in pain with each movement, or how your uniform was soaked in your own blood and slowly forming a pool at your feet. Ghastly as you looked, you turned your head and tossed her another gentle smile. You were basically going to use yourself as a human shield for them and yet you were comforting her. You were reassuring her.

"Check on my sister for me, yeah?"

Natasha wanted to insist on another plan. Anything other than leave you behind to hold off the nearing enemy units. Shouting and gunfire from the other side of the door forced her to make a decision. She cursed sharply under her breath and dragged Bucky away with her, the regret heavy on her heart for having to leave you behind.

You stepped further back and supported your weak body against the wall after Natasha had thankfully left. The enemy was trying their hardest to barge through the door, ramming into it and shooting their guns at the locks. It wouldn't be long now before they manage to breach it.

You took a moment to spare a thought for your sister. A part of you was saddened to think of her grief after she finds out that you had done the most heroic thing anyone could ever do.

Sacrifice.

Another part of you was relieved knowing that she had Jill and she wouldn't be alone in that grief. When you decided this morning that this would be your last mission, you didn't necessarily expect it to be in this way.

"I'm sorry, Lily."

Natasha managed to get Bucky back to the jet where the rest of the team were all converging, still fighting off operatives chasing after them. There just didn't seem to be any end to them.

"I'm going back for Y/N!" she yelled to the team as she dropped Bucky on the floor of the jet. There was no time to be gentle, she had to hurry back to help you out.

"What do you mean? Where the hell is Y/N, Nat?" Steve shouted as he grabbed her arm.

"She stayed behind to hold off the ones chasing us so we could get out. I have to go back!"

"I will go. I can get her out," Pietro volunteered at once but he doubled over immediately from the extensive wounds on his torso.

Natasha was already sprinting back into the compound, not willing to waste another minute. She made it only a few feet before the entire facility exploded into a fiery inferno that quickly ravaged it and threw her farther back.

The entire team watched in horror as the explosions continued on several parts of the structure. The area was quickly getting engulfed by the flames and smoke. Steve had to force everyone onto the jet and bodily carry a shell shocked Natasha.

No one could have possibly survived that.

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

Natasha steadied her breath as she quietly landed on a perch high above in the rafters of a seedy warehouse. Wanda joined her seconds later, weaving her magic to better cloak them. The other twin was running a lap around the perimeter and would join them later.

She was assigned weird missions all the time. Missions that had very little to doubtful intel was common. This mission though was by far the strangest she's ever gotten. There was a very small list of vague things that were told to them; the time and location, not to intervene, to remain unseen until the target was ready, bring the target to the Compound.

She was slightly annoyed, but she complied anyway. She was curious too as the mission was given in secret to only the three of them. A million questions was speeding through her mind as she observed the activity below. It looked like a regular run of the mill drug den filled with busy workers and roving guards.

"How many, Wanda?" Natasha whispered.

"I sense more than 25 of them. All armed, but with much fear."

A gust of wind signaled the return of the other twin. He had a frown on his face and a concerned look in his eyes. "There is another one, but this one does not seem to be with them."

Natasha was starting to sincerely doubt this mission when a fast movement from the shadows caught her eye. By the way the twins perked up too, they surely had seen it. They followed the figure as it slipped through the darkness, almost losing track if they hadn't noticed that the guards were quickly dwindling in number. Natasha was growing worried, this was surely a highly skilled group of assassins. Pietro must have been mistaken. They were clean and efficient too.

All of a sudden a gunfight broke out below them. A figure completely clad in black, strolled casually out from the shadows with a pistol in each hand firing precisely at their targets. They confidently charged closer, unfazed as they greeted the gunfire. They continued to tear viciously through the crowd with a deadly mix of combat, bullets, and blades. 

The workers had drawn their weapons by now as well, but they were quickly killed off with barbaric aggression. It did not take long for the floor below to become a sea of blood and lifeless bodies. One person remained barely alive, hanging on to his middle to keep his internal organs from spilling out from the wide gash. The attacker came to him, nonchalantly stepping over decimated bodies. They couldn't hear what was exchanged from this distance, only the choked scream that followed as he was stabbed straight through the throat. His blood spurting out like a broken faucet.

Natasha had been in this profession for a while, but she has never seen this level of unrestrained violence.

One person.

One single person had cleared out a base of approximately 30 people. Natasha was growing more and more worried. Clearly this person was at the very least an enhanced and even with the twins with her, they were not prepared to face someone powered.

What kind of bloodthirsty lunatic does this?

"You can come down now."

All three of them froze in place. Looking down, the attacker was staring right at them with cloaked eyes. Reluctantly and very slowly, Wanda used her powers to float them down carefully keeping a good distance from this murderer.

From this close they could now see that they were in full military tactical gear in what was originally all matte black, but now had an explosion of dripping red. Combat boots, fitted cargo pants, a long sleeved shirt underneath a tight bulletproof vest, gloves, a loose hood over their head, and a cloth mask around the lower half of their face.

"Should have known something was up when my team mentioned seeing a really fast man."

The shivers that travelled through every expanse of skin on Natasha, was a reaction to that voice. It sounded strangely familiar yet unknown, but something in her mind was denying her from piecing it together. The moment the hood was dropped to reveal their eyes was when she spiraled into a complete icy shock. They were eyes that had haunted her for the past ten years. Haunted all of them. The only difference was that the eyes in her memories were smiling warmly.

The bloodied face mask was lowered to reveal a face they mourned, unmistakable and yet completely different. White raised scars branched out like weaving vines from the right side of the neck to just above the jaw and the ears. They were obviously old and healed but still raised and prominent, adding an even more dangerous edge to the menacing look on their face.

Your face.

"Hello, Natasha. Pietro. Wanda."

10 years after they had watched you tragically perish in a burning HYDRA facility, you stood before three of a group of people you had unknowingly tormented all these years.

The earpiece you wore crackled to life. "Blackbird to Hedwig. I have a visual. Should I shoot them?"

You smirked. There was no need for that. At least not right now.

"Hey, Blackbird. Tell Raven I'll be late for dinner. I have a reunion to get to."

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

A/N: Tell me which pairing or combination in this harem you’re most looking forward to. Smut or otherwise. I’m still rearranging scenes and working out smut. There is a long list of kinks. I need help.

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