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lcandothisallday · 10 months

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A Shot Worth Taking - Jeremy (WMCJ) x f!reader

Part 2 - First Date

warnings: none

series masterlist!

You sat nervously in the restaurant, waiting on Jeremy to arrive. It was your first date with him and he already wasn't making the greatest impression by being fifteen minutes late. He had offered to pick you up from your apartment but you opted to meeting him at the restaurant, not wanting him to deal with the intense LA traffic--but now you were regretting that decision.

You took a sip of your water and tapped your acrylic nails on the wooden table, letting out a sigh. You looked entirely too good to be stood up and the sympathetic stares you were getting from the restaurant staff were starting to piss you off.

When your phone buzzed, you scrambled to see who texted you, part of you hoping to see Jeremy’s name pop up with an explanation as to why he’s late or if he was gonna show up at all. Instead it was your best friend Vanessa checking in.

Vanessa: Still a no show?

You: Yeah. Just hoping he’s stuck in traffic or something. I’m giving it 5 more mins

Vanessa: Well good luck and update me💖

You turn off your screen and place your phone down once again. You wait a few more minutes and just as you were about to give up, Jeremy rushes into the restaurant, frantically looking around to find you. Once his eyes laid on you, he let out a breath of relief, coming up to you with an apologetic look in his eyes.

“Y/N I’m so sorry,” he began, his voice breathless. “I had a long day--was training a client then did a few side hustles before I got home and...I really had to shower before seeing you and--”

He was going to continue rambling but you only let out a small laugh and waved him off. “Jeremy it’s fine,” you interrupted him in reassurance, giving him a kind smile. He seemed sincere enough that you believed him and wanted to give him a chance—and his rambling was cute you thought.

Truth be told though, part of the reason why Jeremy was late was because he had forced Kamal into playing an extra pick up to hustle a few extra bucks so that he could pay for the date. Unlike before with Tatiana, since the relationship was quite established, they could each pick up the bill on different occasions, depending on the circumstances. But that was before--and with you, he wanted to impress you so he had to have the money. Of course he wasn’t going to let you know all that though.

Jeremy let out another breath of relief before he pulled out the chair and sat opposite you. That’s when you truly got the chance to take in his appearance properly. His curls were beautifully bouncy and he wore the cutest little white crochet-like open button up that complimented him so well. A complete 180 to what you saw him wear at the pick up.

Jeremy’s nerves got the best of him and all he could do was stare at you mesmerized, prompting you to talk first. “You um...you look very nice,” you complimented him, your cheeks flaring up with heat as you said it.

His eyes widened at your compliment and his own cheeks went pink. He licked his lips and smiled at you humbly. Goes down the drain his confidence and all his game. “Thank you...you look absolutely beautiful,” he commented back, his hand gesturing to your everything causing you to giggle.

The waitress came and took your orders—not without giving you a questioning look before she had walked off to put it in. You didn’t quite understand why she gave you that look but little did you know it was because Jeremy and Tatiana used to frequent that particular restaurant a lot when they were still together and the waitress caught on.

“Sooo,” Jeremy began, his arms resting on the table in front of him. “You into basketball?”

You shrugged, “I mean—I’d call myself a casual fan. I follow up during the playoffs mostly,” you explain.

Jeremy hummed in understanding. “What team you got? The Lakers?” he asked, his assumption based off of the fact that you were born and raised in LA.

“The Warriors actually—”

Jeremy groaned, “don’t tell me you crushin’ on Jordan Poole too—”

“What?! He’s cute!” you defended with a laugh. “But I can think of a cuter basketball player,” you flirt, your grin widening as you see him instantly shut up and turn visibly red.

“Aight bet,” he chuckled, nodding before he nervously began to play with his fingers. “Were you uh…were you at the pick up watching anyone in particular though?” he mumbled out in question, wanting to know if there were any other guys in your life, which you easily caught on to.

With a smirk you shook your head no. “Nah…my friend Vanessa—her boyfriend plays baseball in the diamond next to the court. I tagged along for fun,” you hummed in response. “But you definitely caught my eye so I guess I was there watching you.”

Jeremy grinned and his cheeks started to tint pink which thankfully wasn’t too noticeable due to the dim lighting of the restaurant. “M’ glad you came…made it more worth it to win,” he mused.

“Oh I’m sure,” you laughed. “You’re a cocky player, you know?”

Jeremy scoffed playfully, although his expression was one filled with amusement in the conversation. “Don’t act like you didn’t like the attention—plus I’m only cocky cos I’m good,” he shrugged.

“I guess I can’t argue there,” you giggle, before you’re interrupted by your phone ringing, signalling someone was trying to face time you.

You look at the caller ID and silence the ringing to respect the fact that you’re on a date. Jeremy ignored it and continue the conversation with you when it rang again.

“You can answer it you know. It’s fine,” Jeremy reassured with a smile. You instantly wave him off with a laugh. “It’s only my nephew—he forces his dad to give him the phone around this time to call me,” you explain with a chuckle. “But it’s fine. I’ll call him back when I’m back home.”

“How old is he?”

“He turns seven in August—”

As Jeremy goes to respond, your phone rings again which makes the curly haired man laugh. “At this point you have to respond. Can’t keep little man waiting,” he mused.

With a playful roll of your eyes, you pick up your phone and accept the face time. As it finally connected, Jeremy couldn’t help but be mesmerized as he watched your reaction to greeting your nephew. The way your eyes lit up and the cutest smile adorned your features made his heart melt.

“Auntie Y/N!! I called you like three times!” the little boy’s exaggerated voice sounded through the speakers, causing you and Jeremy to laugh. “I wanted to tell you I got an A+ on my spelling test!”

Your grin widened, “that’s very good, Adam! I’m so proud of you!” you exclaim.

The little boy giggled before he looked closer at the screen and furrowed his brows. “Waaaaiiit…where are you?” he pouted, noticing the darker scenery and dim lights, and the fact that you were dressed up with makeup on, instead of home in your pjs.

You bit your lip and your gaze shifted over to Jeremy, seeing he had on an amused smile waiting to see how you’d respond. “I’m having dinner with a friend,” you respond, cheeks heating up. “Wanna say hi?”

You giggle as you watch Adam’s eyes go wide before he bashfully hid his face in his hand as you turn the camera towards Jeremy who grinned upon seeing the little boy.

“Hey little man! I’m Jeremy. How’s it going?” he mused.

His cheeks went red from shyness as he squeaked out a quiet ‘good.’

Jeremy knew if he wanted to impress you, he had to win over your nephew so he kept going. “Is that a soccer jersey you have on?”

At the talk of soccer, Adam’s eyes lit up in excitement. “Yeah! I had a game today!”

“Oh that’s so cool!” Jeremy exclaimed. “I’m more into basketball myself but soccer is cool too…maybe we can play together sometime?” he suggested, causing the boy to grin adorably and nod his head.

“Mind if your auntie calls you back later? We’re…” you watch as he dramatically leans closer to the phone screen and cups his hand up pretending to whisper. “I’ll tell you a lil secret…we’re on a date,” he exaggeratedly whispered. “Hoping she’ll be my girlfriend eventually,” he mused, causing your cheeks to flare up with heat. “But I gotta impress her on this date first.”

Adam went shy again as he nodded his head timidly. “I like you Mr. Jeremy…so okay,” he giggled. Jeremy bid his good bye to the boy before you retracted your arm to say good bye yourself.

“Bye habibi, I’ll talk to you later okay?” you confirm. “Love you, bye.” You end the call and look up at Jeremy with the widest grin.

“You're cute and good with kids?” you ask playfully. “And to think I thought I was gonna get stood up by you.”

“Won’t have to worry about that with me,” he mused, sending a wink your way. “What did that mean by the way?” he asked. “The word you called him when you were saying bye.”

“Oh habibi?” you asked, your demeanour now shy. “It just basically means ‘my love’ in arabic...I don’t speak the language much but a few words sneak out here and there,” you explain.

Jeremy grinned at your explanation before he leaned back in his chair comfortably. “I like that...to be honest—I like the way you say it more. It’s quite...exotic.”

“Oh my god! Don’t ever say that again!” you laughed, shaking your head. Jeremy giggled at your reaction before he leaned in closer to you once more.

“So...you know about me...my passion for basketball and the way I hustle...so what’s up with you?” he mused in question.

You merely shrugged. “Not much to know...I work at a Sephora.”

Jeremy nodded. “You close to your family?”

“That’s...” you take in a breath. “A complicated answer,” you admit to him shamefully. “My brother, he’s two years older than I am--he got his college girlfriend pregnant in his first year and of course that fucked up the whole family dynamic because how could my perfect brother be so careless...but he and the girl managed to work things out up until she gave birth and when Adam was two months she gave up completely and gave up all her rights and literally disappeared off of the face of the earth.”

Jeremy showed that he was listening intently and urged you to continue. “So my brother was gonna drop out, but he had worked so hard to get into UCLA so I ended up deferring going to college myself and stayed home with Adam...but one year led to another and another and I just never got to it,” you chuckled sadly. “My brother graduated, got a big tech job in Silicon Valley and got married to the perfect girl and had another kid and like...I know I should happy for him for escaping that cycle he could’ve gotten into as a drop out single dad but...it just sucks cos they moved hours away and my parents now think I did nothing with my life,” you shrugged, fiddling with the rings on your finger.

Jeremy reached across the table to take on of your hands into his. “Have you ever considered going back to school?”

“College, never. Can’t afford it...I’ve been thinking of community college but...I don’t know if I’m mentally prepared to start studying again after so many years outta the game,” you laughed. “So here I am instead working shifts at Sephora and going to silly little pick up games where I meet cute endearing guys.”

“Ima ignore the fact that you said guys as a plural and focus on the fact that you called me cute and endearing.”

You grinned, “whatever floats your boat.”

#jack harlow #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow blurb #jack harlow imagines #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow x you #jeremy x reader #jeremy wmcj #wmcj #jeremy wmcj x reader #wmcj fanfic #wmcj concepts #wmcj fics #white men can’t jump

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rainycat2 · 1 year

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Tidbits! I’m going through a backlog rn.

At request: trigger warning for blood, sword, blade, threat of death.

“Danny grinned, his teeth too sharp, blood and ectoplasm dripping through his lips as he faced the Joker, twisting his sword in his hand.

“You cannot kill me in a way that matters, Jack Napier,” he laughed. “You have millions after your soul, and who am I to deny my people?”

There’s a quiet over the comms in his ear, before Nightwing hesitantly speaks up.

“Did he… did he just quote Tumblr?”

#dp x dc fanfic #dp x dc #could I hypothetically keep this in drafts #yes #am I going to #no #I am Shakespeare and I thrive on attention #also where did you all come from #like seriously I look away for 10 min and my tumblr is suddenly screeching #like y’all good?#anyway idk if it’s Jack Napier or Jack white #idk idc #canon is my playground and I am a chunky toddler with a sandcastle pail #Pail? pale? idk man I think pail is right here #blood #fighting #sword

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elmatadorisgay · 2 months

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Incorrect Football Quotes: Ship Edition

Jack: *Brings an eggy toast to Jordan's lips.*

Jordan: It's burnt.

Jack: Yeah well, It's made with love not skill.

Muller: *With a megaphone* Damn sir. You look like you serve and protect.

Neuer: I try.

Neuer: *humming on his way over to his locker before training.*

Neuer: *opens the locker, red rose petals proceed to spill out onto the floor and reveal a note taped to the back of his locker.*

Neuer:

Neuer: *blushing heavily* THOMAS!

Matt: I'm straight

Matt: *goes to Arsenal*

Matt: *sees Ben and Rob.*

Matt: Nevermind

Erling: I'm Erling, and you are?

Jude: *blushes*

Jude: Questioning my sexuality

#football rpf #football #incorrect quotes #football fanfic #arsenal fc #jack grealish #jordan pickford #manuel neuer #thomas muller #matt turner #ben white #rob holding #erling haaland #jude bellingham

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stephstars08 · 10 months

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Which ever movie wins, I will write it with Jack being the prince/love interest! Yes, this will be just like the movie so no it won’t be modernized!

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shesjustanothergeek · 2 years

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Rapture

|Professor Jack Gladney x Fem!Reader|

One Shot

Summary: You are a History major at The-College-On-The-Hill and must take a Hitler studies class as part of the curriculum. You get distracted during the two-hour lecture and can't pay attention which Professor Jack Gladney takes notice of, forcing you to stay after class to have a word.

Warnings: age gap, blowjobs, literally face fucking, cum swallowing, hairy pussy (it's the 80s, what can I say), power imbalance, mentions of WW2 and Nazis, teacher-student relationship, dubcon, you are a super girly queen who likes to take pictures, Jack wears his glasses as he rails you from behind, cock the size of a soda can, degradation.

Author's Note: Welcome to the 80s! It's totally tubular, yo! Anyways, welcome to another Jack Gladney fic. This story has no plot, just some good ol' hanky panky. I wanted to create a raunchy, corny, 80s porno-esque, sheet gripping story with horny old man Jack. A song called Rapture by Blondie was playing over and over in my head while writing this and I was defiantly inspired by it. I want to say that since we're in the 80s, you have hair long enough to be in a ponytail and permed. If you have trouble picturing that, just look up "80s side pony," and you'll see what I mean. Well, I hope you guys like it and don't get turned off by some of the things I wrote.

The autumn air was sharp as you walked the concrete pathway to your Hitler Studies Class, cutting your cheeks raw as you huddled in your bright windbreaker. Crispy orange oak leaves crunched under your white sneakers, accenting each step as you huffed up the hill, skinny jeans clinging tight to your body.

You paused for a moment, shrugging your backpack off and taking out a compact black case, unzipping it to reveal your Polaroid camera and snap a picture. You smiled as the beautiful autumn landscape was printed on the paper and the photo slowly appeared.

Fall was always your favorite time of year. The short space between summer and winter filled your bones with the excitement for new beginnings. You never understood why people used spring as the figurehead for growth and rebirth when autumn made more sense. People were starting school, returning from vacations, and thinking about the holidays. Things were dying, melting into the ground and decaying, creating room for new life to grow. Wouldn't that be the first step in the cycle?

You opened the heavy metal door to the historic building, grunting and using all your weight to fling it so you could run inside before it slammed behind you.

The halls were always quiet and bare, as it was mainly used for only the history majors. The smell of cigarettes lingered in the wooden floorboards and carpets of the lecture halls, even with the "no smoking" signs plastered everywhere. It was the 80s. For Christ's sake, people should know better by now. You were confident it was mainly just the teachers anyways. Old habits die hard.

You entered the lecture hall. Rows and rows of wooden desks and old, creaky chairs with small lamps lined the entire room. A few students had already taken their seats, dotting the space. Your Professor, Mr. Gladney, looked up from his podium in the front of the class, noticing the noise. You smiled and gave a little wave in greeting, but he didn't respond. Only staring at you blankly with his deep brown eyes and slightly aged face until you made it to your respective seat in the second row. His eyes snapped back to whatever he was doing, clearing his throat and scratching the top of his receding Chesnut hair once you did.

You shrugged the awkward exchange off, ignoring the butterflies that formed from his attention.

He was always like this, quirky, almost with his obsession for his job. You would never be able to understand why or how someone could devote their entire life to learning about a literal genocidal maniac, but in a way, it fits him. He was so focused on his studies and teaching he never really made time to develop the ability to have actual conversations with students. It was almost endearing. You supposed he didn't need to, anyways. He didn't need to befriend his students; he had his own family and problems to deal with. All he was required to do in that aspect was be able to answer any questions they had and, on occasion, discuss an assignment.

More students began to file in, taking up the empty spaces and filling the room with the smell of the outdoors. You rummaged through your backpack, pulled out the spiral notebook dedicated to your Hitler Studies Class, and settled in for the two-hour-long lecture.

You were an hour and a half into the class when you felt your stomach begin to ache, empty. You silently cursed the feeling, realizing you should have eaten before arriving. Taking gulps of your water was not enough to satiate your hunger, and you became irritable, bouncing your leg impatiently while glancing at the clock. You only had to endure another twenty minutes of gut-wrenching agony. You draped your arm over your abdomen, trying to comfort yourself inconspicuously.

Professor Gladney caught your hunched-over form as he descended the stairs leading to the chalkboard in long strides. His eyes traveled up and down your figure with a slight scowl, his pink lips pouting. You blush, embarrassed that he saw you looking weak like a child. You scrunched your face in disappointment. You began rummaging through your bag, looking for anything, a granola bar, an opened package of Fig Newtons, anything that could satiate your hunger, but finding nothing besides a pack of bubblegum. This would have to do.

You looked around as you pried the sealed bag, trying not to make a sound and draw attention. It mostly worked, except for the fact that the direction of the sound waves went straight to your Professor, sighing with his hand on his hips. He glared at you before going back to talking about the tactics the Nazis used to dehumanize the groups Hitler deemed the cause for Germany's hardships.

You should have been paying attention, especially since this was a required course for you to graduate, but the constant gnawing in your stomach wouldn't let you. Trying to distract yourself, you twisted your hair around your index finger, pulling on it, inflicting a different pain on your body as you popped the baby pink gum. You glanced at the black and white clock again, the constant ticking antagonizing you, knowing how much discomfort you were in. You couldn't help it when a groan of annoyance bubbled up, seeing there were still ten minutes left.

"Miss..." Professor Gladney said your last name sharply, face sour. "Is this not interesting enough for you?" Your face burned as you sunk into the creaky chair, anxiety growing from being the center of everyone's attention.

"Uh, no, Mr. Gladney. I-I mean yes, Mr. Gladney." You couldn't form a coherent sentence with his eyes staring intensely into you, your thighs squeezing shut. He paused on your squirming form, expression being overshadowed by something... different.

Professor Gladney huffed, shaking his head and running a hand through his wavy light brown hair before continuing his lecture, flipping the projector on for the documentary he was ending the class with. You were thankful Professor Gladney turned the lights off. It made it easier to hide the shame heating your skin, the ache in your gut.

You felt like an idiot for being so careless with your thoughts and actions, finding the plastic-coated pack and shoving another piece to distract you.

Finally, the clock struck the hour, and Mr. Gladney flipped the lights on and switched the film off.

You bunched your things together, not caring to organize them as you shoved them in your bright pink backpack, practically sprinting down the stairs until you heard your name called. Dread filled your bones, weighing you down in your spot.

"Yes, Mr. Gladney," you responded with gritted teeth, plastering on a fake smile as you turned to face him. He pushed his blue-tinted glasses up as he scowled.

"I need you to stay after class." His request was simple enough and wouldn't have bothered you any other day, but you really needed to leave this time.

"Can I do that another time, please? I'm starving," you whined. You were becoming nauseous from the lack of food. You sighed, shrugging your bag closer.

"No, Miss," he said, your last name, annoyed with your antics and crossing his arms, "I need to speak with you in private."

You were starting to get angry now. All you wanted was a little snack. You smacked the gum in your mouth, purposefully trying to be loud as an act of defiance when the last few students filed out. You groaned and walked to an extra desk by his podium, dropping your book bag with more force than usual.

Professor Gladney sat at the complex plastic table next to you, puffing hair through his mouth as he bent his knees. His age was catching up to him. You rolled your eyes, irked with every second not spent shoving your face full of food. He placed his hands on the rectangular table, lacing his fingers together as his eyebrows scrunched in thought, lips pursing. You blew a bubble, crossing your legs.

"Do you know why I asked you to stay behind today?" He interrogated, finally initiating the conversation, making you one step closer to leaving.

You sucked the expanded gum back in, tilting your head. It cracked and popped as you went back to chewing it abhorrently.

"No. I don't think I do, sir. Could you please tell me?" Your voice was snippy as Mr. Gladney whipped his gaze up, as you blew another bubble, popping even louder.

"I asked you to stay because you didn't retain a single piece of information the entire lecture," he answered.

You scoffed, throwing your head back as you sneered. "Did not." You continued gnawing on the pink bubblegum. His sigh came out as a growl as he slammed his fists on the table.

"Will you stop chewing that god-damned gum!"

You jumped in your seat, the rubber candy nearly falling out of your mouth at his sudden outburst. The surprise wore off quickly as your belly made a grumble, anger finally coming to the surface.

"Oh, yeah? What are you gonna do about it, huh? Make me spit it out?" You hugged your abdomen tightly as another wave of hunger struck you.

Professor Gladney didn't reply, only giving you a heated stare. You stood up, pushing your seat back with a screech. "Yeah. That's what I thought."

You picked up your backpack, not bothering to put it on as you stormed out. You were halfway to the door as you felt a sharp yank nearly make you fall backward. You spun around, ready to fight your teacher that stopped your escape.

"What the fu-"

A kiss caught your words as Mr. Gladney's mouth crashed onto yours, forcing you to backpedal and slam into the classroom door, shutting it.

His tongue was skilled, the soft sensation of it eliciting a moan from you as his hand went to your throat.

"You're such a fucking nuisance. Distracting me with those juicy lips, stuffing that gum in your mouth. I'll give you something to stuff it," he rambled against your lips.

Your eyes were wide as he continued kissing you, shocked but not upset by the intrusion, gradually gaining the confidence to run your fingers through his short wavy brown hair. He wouldn't leave your mouth even when he locked the door and pulled the small curtain covering the small porthole. You struggled to breathe with his face smashed against yours, and you attempted to pull back, only getting enough as your foreheads pressed together.

"You said you were fucking hungry," he hummed through his nose. "I'll give you something to eat."

He brought his wide fingers into your hair, tangling them. You squinted in confusion, unsure of what he meant as he brought you to your knees, face level with his crotch, a prominent bulge poking through the tan fabric. Your eyes darted up to his as you realized what he meant but were still uncertain about moving.

"Go on. Suck my cock." He motioned with his head.

You wet your lips, unzipping his kakis with two fingers as you found purchase on his sturdy thighs. As you brought them down, you palmed the bulge, glancing at him for reassurance. His eyes were closed, brows pinched in pleasure, glasses sliding down his aquiline nose, lost in your touch. Taking that as a sign to continue, you hooked your fingers into the hem of his white underwear, spotting the tuft of black hair, a few greys strands hiding here and there. You brought them down, revealing his full, unobscured length. Your mouth hung open at the sight. You couldn't help the quiet gasp that slipped.

Mr. Gladney looked down at you, chuckling at your reaction, proud to have won it. He nudged you forward with his hand.

"Take it. Use those pretty lips you were so keen on annoying me with earlier." His voice was low and thick, directed down to you, laced with desire.

You went to feel the gum in your mouth, wanting to spit it out to make room for him but couldn't find it. Mr. Gladney noticed your bewildered expression and laughed again, jaw moving as he rolled the missing piece, showing it to you. You shook your head slightly as you opened your mouth, wrapping your hand around his thick cock, fingers barely touching.

You licked a stripe up the side, exploring the ridges and veins as he hissed from above, pulling your hair tighter and tasting the salty precum dripping out. You worked him with your wrist as you slowly wrapped your lips around the tip, having to open your jaw as far as possible to take even a little as you felt his knees buckle. You pulled your head back with a pop, gasping for air as your hand moved faster. You smiled inwardly, proud to have nearly crippled your stone-cold Professor.

You could hear Mr. Gladney cursing under his breath, losing control as he felt the tension in his gut tighten. He was in a constant state of arousal around you, it was a continuous hum underneath his skin, but his mind was more vigorous. He had held back for quite some time, and even though he knew he could handle this forever, as long as he got off at the end of the day, seeing you in that bright windbreaker, your hair permed and pulled up to the side made him furious. How could you sit there, twirling your ponytail and smacking your lips, oblivious to how he yearned for your soft flesh, and not be punished for it somehow?

He gripped the back of your hair tighter at the thought, pushing your head further down his fat cock until you were a gagging mess below him.

Your lips twitched as you struggled to adjust to his side; you couldn't take all of him. He was too broad. You tried pulling back for air, dry heaving and squirming against him as he ignored you, pushing you down until it bulged in your throat.

"Fuck, yes." He sighed, tipping his head back in ecstasy. "Choke on my fucking cock, you disgusting little slut. You're gonna take my fucking load down your throat. You're gonna eat it when I'm done."

Mr. Gladney finally pulled your head back, not wanting you to retch on him before slamming your face repeatedly, nose smooshing against his pelvis with each thrust.

"You're a fucking nymph. Waltzing in here every day with those stupid fucking clothes that make you look twelve and then ignoring my lecture like a brat. You're disgusting." He degraded you as if you repulsed him, but you knew better. He loved it.

Jack Gladney was a dirty, perverted old man, but only for you. He loved how you acted like a schoolgirl, bright-eyed and ignorant but still mature for someone your age. It drove him wild, the iniquity of it all—only his little nymphet of a student.

You could tell he was close to the edge. His legs shook beside you as his thrusts became sloppy. Bringing your free hand up, you began playing with his balls, the skin delicate and smooth underneath his curly hair as you felt him jolt, the pleasure too intense to hold back from as he shoved your face into him, grunting and spraying load after load down you throat, filling your empty stomach. Your breathing was ragged as you waited for Professor Gladney to pull out, your nails digging into his hairy thighs.

He couldn't support his weight and leaned into the classroom door as you looked up at him. You maintained eye contact as he slowly slid out of your mouth, jaw aching and gasping for air once free. You took a moment to collect yourself, wiping the drool and smeared mascara on your face, glancing at him nervously a few times. He pushed himself off the door and kicked his pants from his ankles, crouching down quickly to drag you to the nearest desk.

Confusion struck as he guided you. How could he be ready for round two? Most boys around your age would cum and need to fall asleep afterward, but here he was, dragging you across the room to fuck you.

You were too stunned to speak as he bent you over it, breasts resting on the cool top, ass in the air. You heard Mr. Gladney mumble something behind you, and you turned your head to see as a crack echoed in the lecture hall. You squealed, back arching and shifting forward at the unexpected impact.

"Don't chew gum in my class again," he said, your last name, scolding you and smacking your ass again, "unless you want to experience something worse than a spanking."

Your mind was mush as he hit your other cheek, bringing his hand to soothe the hot skin.

"Mr. Gladney!" You cried out, clenching your fingers, nails biting crescents into your palms.

"Say that again," you heard him groan behind you. You yelped it again as he smacked you before reaching his hand around and unbuttoning your jeans.

He rolled them down your supple thighs along with your panties and revealed the sore skin from his punishments. He bent down, knees cracking as he mouthed at the sensitive area, licking and sucking comfort marks. You reached your arm behind you, moaning and pushing his face closer into you. You sighed his name again as he groped your other cheek.

He ran his meaty fingers along your cunt, moaning as he felt the unshaven area. Just the way he liked it.

His thumb brushed over your clit, making you gasp as he pulled away to look at you, eyes rolling back at the beautiful sight of your hairy pussy. He didn't think this day could get any better. He pressed his thumb further and drew circles, making your eyes roll back in rapture as he glided two digits through your wet folds.

"Look at that. Look at how wet you are for your Professor." Mr. Gladney's voice was thick, the warmth of it fanning on your skin, sending goosebumps throughout your body.

You craned your neck back, attempting to get a view of his fingers, and sure enough, they were soaked. His digits shined with your juices, coating the tips as he licked his lips, shoving them into his mouth with a moan. You dropped your head and closed your eyes, feeling another wave of heat swell your cunt as you rubbed your thighs together, wanting to have your neglected hole filled.

Threads of pleasure began to disperse from your clit as Professor Gladney continued to rub circles. You clenched around nothing and began to whine, wanting to be filled with anything. His fingers, his cock, hell, even the film roll from the projector would be fine so long as you were stuffed.

Mr. Gladney's fingers left his mouth with a pop, satisfied with your taste as he saw you becoming impatient.

"Please," you whimpered, "I need you inside me."

You didn't have to look to see his smirk, arrogance, and cockiness replacing his usual indifference.

"Aww, look at you, so needy. Begging for your Professor's cock to fill you up." He crooned, his face inches away from your cunt, his breath tickling the wire hair.

"Please. I-I can't take it anymore." Your eyes started to water, the desire too much to keep inside.

He ignored you again, shoving his face between your legs and slurping your flesh. The relief was mild as he lapped at your clit, nose buried deep inside your cunt. You were almost on edge, teetering over the cliff side just needing the final push he refused to give. You knew he was punishing you for being such a brat earlier, ignoring his lecture and popping the gum loudly in disrespect. Part of you felt it was deserved and that you needed to endure it, but the other one, the selfish part, wanted to cum so badly.

"Please, Mr. Gladney." He ignored you and continued to lap your clit. "Please, Jack."

He stopped his movements, exposing your cunt to the cold air of the classroom.

You knew that would get his attention and began apologizing for the informal title, but you needed him to listen or else you would die.

"I can't take it anymore," you said with tears. "I need your cock, Jack. I need you-"

Your words were cut short with the slam of your head onto the wooden table as Mr. Gladney positioned himself behind you. You gasped in pain as he leaned over your body, his hanging stomach brushing over your windbreaker, swishing.

"Don't call me that," his voice growled in your ear. "I'm your professor, and you will address me as such when you're in this classroom."

Your lip quivered as you nodded. He pulled away, only sliding his hand down to the base of your neck, not squeezing but reminding you who was in charge.

You could feel him moving behind you, shuffling closer as he guided his cock through your folds, wetting it. He slowly put the tip in, having to push harder than average from how tight you were. You cried out, fingers gripping the table as you felt him splitting you open. He hesitated for a moment, worried about hurting you. You weren't sure if you could take him inside after never having anyone as girthy before, but the relief of having your Professor an inch inside you was overwhelming.

"No, don't stop. I need you deeper," you begged. He obliged, the thin skin around your hole breaking as he went in further.

Mr. Gladney groaned as he felt the end of his cock brush your cervix, providing a pleasurable pain. You could feel him stretching your insides to their maximum as he seated inside wholly. You were a panting and blubbering mess under him, feeling so impossibly complete with only half of his cock inside you, sweat collecting on your forehead.

"I'm all the way in," he mumbled, releasing a breath he didn't realize he was holding.

Your walls strangled his cock, sending gratifying thumps with the blood flowing through the shaft. It was difficult for him to begin thrusting, your pussy creating a vacuum and sucking him back in like when you attempted to shove your foot into a shoe that was too small.

It felt amazing.

Professor Gladney hadn't had sex this great in a long time since his college years, actually, and he couldn't get enough. He squished your face further into the table, the flesh inside your mouth pinching between your teeth while he used his other hand to grip your hips for leverage. Your loud cries mixed with the erotic scent in the air had him acting berserk, fucking you from behind like an ape, grunting with every smack of his hips and speeding up.

You were sure students straggling from other classes could hear you from the halls as he landed an arduous thrust into your cervix. He slapped the hand that was pushing you down across your mouth to prevent arousing any more attention.

"Don't make a fucking sound," he seethed into your ear, "unless you want everyone to know what a disgusting whore you are. Fucking your forty-year-old Professor." Your eyes rolled back into your head, silently screaming as his fingers found your clit.

The pain mixing with the pleasure was immaculate as you drooled against his palm, breathing heavily through your nose. Mr. Gladney's grunts were strained through his lips as he pursed them tightly; you wished you could hear them in their entirety. Hear how he would suck air in when you clenched around his cock; listen to how he would growl dirty words into your ear as he fucked you from behind.

The pads of his fingers rubbing your overworked bud sent you tumbling down into ecstasy, spasming around him as you gripped the hand covering your mouth, thighs shaking. Your movements nearly caused the same for him, but he held back, stalling his thrusts to a slower rhythm, just as powerful.

"Where do you want me?" He asked breathlessly, trying to hold back his impending orgasm as he removed his hand, gripping your shoulder. "Fuck." He smacked your ass when you didn't answer, still coming down from the high.

"I-I don't care. Anywhere."

He made no moves to stop his torture, stubbornly waiting for your answer as he began to overstimulate you.

"Mr. Gladney," you drew out, whining.

"Where the fuck do you want me to cum? You want my jizz inside of you then? You want your Professor's load dripping out of that hairy cunt? You wanna walk to your next class like that?" He antagonized you, shaming your state of being without saying so.

You shook your head. He refused to let up the force on your clit as you tried to move away, shoving you into the creaky wooden table and forcing your mind to focus on his question.

"My ass," you finally whimpered. "I want you to cum on my ass."

Mr. Gladney didn't hesitate to pull himself out, pumping his cock as he did, his spend shooting on your skin. You jumped slightly as the warm liquid splattered over and over, never seeming to stop as he drew out long moans of satisfaction. You couldn't believe he had so much left in him after cuming already. It was crazy how much he still had left.

You slumped down onto the desk, resting your tired body as he got the remnants of his orgasm out, exhausted. You felt him move, his body heat gone as he went get the box of tissues hidden on a shelf inside his podium, wiping his cum away. He let you rest there for a moment as he went to find his discarded pants and underwear by the door, putting them on.

You sighed as you slid into a sitting position, not caring how your bare skin was reclining on the dirty floor. You didn't have the energy to move, tired from the thorough fucking. Your stomach growled, reminding you of the other reason you were tired, and you pulled up the scrunched clothes at your ankles, struggling to steady yourself as you gripped the edge of the table next to you, knocking over a lamp. You turned around, hoping that Professor Gladney didn't see the embarrassing bag of bones you were as you put it back, but he seemed too preoccupied with looking through the uncovered window, checking for people outside.

You took a deep breath as you walked to where your bookbag was, ignoring the burn in between your legs. He turned, happy that no one was around, at least for the time being, and watched you.

It was comical how such a quiet, seemingly innocent student could be such a heathen when alone. Mr. Gladney never thought much of you other than a pretty face that sat in his class, but there was more to you. You had character, different sides to your personality as a student and a woman that he wanted to see and explore more in class or out. You were like a worksheet he passed out to his students, one where they only looked at the front, blissfully unaware that there was more on the back.

His eyes were concentrated as you walked towards him, stopping only a few feet away, silent. Professor Gladney looked at you curiously, wondering why you didn't use a snarky remark like before.

"You're blocking the door." You motioned behind him as he stepped out of the way, apologizing.

You turned the knob and went to pull away, but Mr. Gladney's hand placed itself upon yours, stopping you once again from leaving. You weren't upset this time as he asked you to wait.

"You're going to get something to eat after this, yeah?" You nodded, unsure of where he was going. "Let me take you out? It'll be my treat for keeping you so long." His words were just like anything else he had said, but you could see the anxiety behind his eyes.

Was he afraid you were going to tell someone?

You removed his hand from yours, placing it by your side as you looked up at him, noticing his glasses sliding down too far on his nose. You pushed them up.

"Professor, you don't have to worry about me telling anyone. Everything was consensual." You tried to reassure him. "Besides, I liked it," you joked, nudging him with your side.

Mr. Gladney hadn't even thought of the possibility that you could tell someone; that thought hadn't even crossed his mind. He felt foolish; typically, it was so sharp, priding himself on his strong intellect. Perhaps he wasn't as bright as he thought.

He continued to stare, rolling his lips in thought before he spoke.

"It's not that. I trust you."

Trust you? Did he trust you? He barely knew you. Honestly, you did keep to yourself during his lectures, and you didn't seem like the type of person to gossip, but he still wasn't sure. He regretted not taking the time to know his students now.

"I want to be polite for pulling you from your plans. It's the least I can do," he confessed, anxiously putting his hand into his pockets.

You mulled over the offer, wondering what it could mean to other people seeing the middle-aged Professor hanging out with a student on campus grounds. Your stomach decided for you as it let out a growl loud enough that even Mr. Gladney could hear.

You looked down, cursing the stupid thing that was the source of all your problems today as he laughed. You had never heard him actually laugh before. It was adorable. It was booming, filling the room and echoing in your chest.

"Yeah." You nodded. "Yeah, I think I would like to have a bite with you." You nodded more enthusiastically now as he opened the door, gesturing for you to leave first. "As long as you're paying," you jested, glancing back to him with a cheeky smile.

Of course, Mr. Gladney would pay. You didn't even have to specify that. He slightly shook his head, eyes crinkling at your humor. There were those snarky remarks. He was wondering where they went.

You skipped down the hall excitedly, him trailing behind as a thought came to you. Sliding your pink backpack down your shoulder, you unzipped it and found the familiar black camera case.

"Smile!" You shouted as the camera flashed before he could react. The picture printed as he questioned you.

"What was that for?"

You shrugged, brushing it off as you got a black sharpie, writing a little blurb for a title and putting the date.

"No reason. I just wanted to take a picture," you grinned.

Mr. Gladney looked you up and down, confusion etched on his freckled features, trying to suppress a smile as you put everything away and continued walking to lunch. You exited the building as the sun blinded you, the photo flapping in the autumn wind as it formed.

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mrsdulac · 8 months

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I’m sick of the drama about feminine Louis. They’re not trying to protect Louis at all, they’re just mad that for once a black man is being portrayed as soft and now they want to gatekeep the fics. But notice how when the reverse happens these blogs have NOTHING to say. Transparent ass bitches. I’m gonna write some loustat mpreg with bottom louis especially for these haters. Black fandom can’t have anything for themselves bc of people like this.

I’m not disagreeing anon. If anything, I support you.

#mpreg isn’t really my jam but i still support you #bc at this point that is what it sounds like #and i do agree that there are no problems when lestat’s flamboyance is interpreted as femininity #but any attempts to do that with louis and suddenly it’s political #it’s tiring and boring and I’m sick of it too #and ik i sound like a broken record but just block these people #bc they’re just spouting nonsense at the end of the day #and they run around engaging with things they know they won’t lie (bottom!louis or loustat mpreg with a barefoot pregnant louis at home)#so they can complain like these types of domestic fics aren’t popular as hell #go to any ship with two white men and I guarantee you’ll see fics like this all over #but there’s no problems with these types of fics apparently #but of course when black fans want a peace of that pie it’s ‘holding up gender roles’ or ‘it’s homophobic’ and whatever #it’s bullshit if you ask me #so yeah…just block em 💞#they’re not worth the effort or emotion love #and their opinions on these things mean jack shit #write what you want to read!#fanfic is for you

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poluche334 · 8 months

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I'm finally caught up on Batman White Night and oh boy do I hope there's fanfictions...

#batman white knight #bruce wayne #jack napier #joker #the joker #harley quinn #harleen quinzel #this is a great poly ship #batman #batman x joker x harley quinn #batman x harley quinn x joker #i couldn't find any fanfics after the first issues but now there's much more so fingers crossed 🤞

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divinemissem13 · 2 months

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I'm With Her - Chapter 6

Sometimes, it's Brenda who does the saving. Start from the beginning on AO3

Chapter 6: White

Sharon stopped mid-sentence as something over Brenda’s shoulder caught her attention. Her face went white as a sheet and Brenda worried something might be really wrong… she had never seen Sharon look so unnerved, even a little bit helpless.

“Cap’n? You OK? Sharon?” she quietly asked the woman in front of her. The answer, however, came from behind her.

“Sharon! There you are! You’re a hard woman to track down!” a loud male voice boomed.

Sharon’s voice remained calm and controlled, her bright green eyes turning a steely grey as she replied tersely, “What are you doing here, Jack?” The color had returned to her cheeks, but Brenda could see her knuckles going white from how hard she clenched her fists.

The red-faced man — Jack, apparently — descended on Sharon, ignoring Brenda completely. She could smell the alcohol coming off of him in waves and she had to wonder who this man was that could so easily rattle her heroic Captain.

“I went to the condo, but you changed the locks on me again. Felt like a damned idiot standing in that hallway, banging on the door like that,” he slurred accusingly.

Sharon closed her eyes briefly and took a deep breath to gather her strength before she looked him straight in the eye and replying under her breath, “I did not change the locks, Jack. You were probably just too drunk to work the key. Go find somewhere else to sleep it off. I don’t have time for this.”

To the untrained eye, she looked strong and in control, but Brenda had spent enough time studying Sharon’s face to see the flickers of doubt and shame (and could that be fear?) that she pushed down as quickly as they rose.

“Listen, you bitch -” Jack leaned in menacingly and Brenda decided she would not let him finish that sentence.

“‘Scuse me, sir, I don’t believe we’ve met,” she interrupted with her best southern belle routine. “I’m Deputy Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson and I do not take kindly to such language in my murder room, especially from those who have not been invited.”

Jack wobbled a little on his feet as he turned to take in the waif of a woman dressed in a floral sundress and slightly askew cardigan. He was a large man and she looked like he could knock her over with one finger, but even as drunk as he was he knew better than to tussle with a police chief.

“Jackson Raydor, Esquire,” he stated with a self-important smirk as he offered a hand to Brenda. From the twinkle in his eye, Brenda thought he could almost be charming if he weren’t so drunk.

“Oh, I see! You must be Captain Raydor’s husband?” Brenda said brightly but did not take his hand “I have heard… well, almost nothin’ about you! But it is just an honor to meet you, yes sir! Now, I am so sorry about this, but I do need just a few more minutes of your wife’s time — you understand, donch’a? So if you’ll just find somewhere else to wait for her, I would be ever so grateful.”

Keep reading on AO3

Thanks to @femslashfeb for hosting this event and for the fun prompts ❤️

#femslash february #femslashfeb2024 #white #brenda.sharon #brenda leigh johnson #sharon raydor #jack raydor #fanfic #i wrote this #the closer #ao3 link

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hello-im-not-a-possum · 9 months

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Shattered Identity.

Chapter Eight: Pretending to have amnesia's all fun and games until you find out something big about yourself you genuinely didn't know.

Chapter one. Chapter two. Chapter three. Chapter four. Chapter five. Chapter six. Chapter seven.

It was a rare, mostly ghost-free day that normally would've been a much needed breather for both Amity Park itself as well as the heroes protecting it. But while the Fentons were fine-tuning their latest creation, the Phantom and the Huntress were enjoying the peace and quiet, the GIW noticed that something was suspicious.

Several things were suspicious…

Mayor Masters suddenly disappeared under mysterious circumstances and hasn't been seen for days, that alone wouldn't be any cause for concern. He did that surprisingly often only to reappear claiming that he had an 'urgent emergency overseas' or some other bizarre excuse that didn't quite hold up when scrutinized too deeply, the GIW got used to it, they knew something fishy was going on with him, but given his wealth, position of power, and the sheer amount of destruction he could afford to bring down on them if they struck first, all they could do was chalk it up to rich people peculiarities until something supernatural became public. What set THIS disappearance apart from all others was that not only did he not reappear, but two strange children claiming to be his appeared. Not only that, but the two kids whom the public eye has never seen before had the paperwork regarding their existences filled in all at once, were in the process of getting Vlad's death certificate officialized, and were getting everything arranged for an upcoming funeral.

Stranger still, when police investigated the Mansion and last known whereabouts of the Billionaire, no body was uncovered. To other branches of the government, this was an extremely fishy case of fraud at best and a planned murder at worst unless those two had darn good explanations but to the GIW, there was something supernatural at hand. …Still obvious fraud, but from their experience with ghosts, it was clear that ghost trickery was at hand here. They didn't know if the kids themselves were ghosts or if ghosts 'helped' make Masters disappear and the kids were in on it but either way they were going to tag those two in secret and get to the bottom of this.

One assigned set of the GIW looked over all drone and other camera footage from the dates between Vlad's disappearance and now and didn't find anything relating to his case. He wasn't caught in a ghost attack, didn't get in some kind of accident, nothing, he was just here one moment, completely gone the next. They did however, notice that on the first day Masters went MIA, The Wisconsin Ghost was completely disintegrated into ectoplasmic ash by a Fentonworks gadget. …As much as the GIW hated to think about them being competent, sometimes the Fentons made genuinely good ghost-hunting devices and they might even need to look into either getting that bad boy or making identical replicas of it. And if it came to it, surely they wouldn't mind if they 'borrowed' it…

A second set were trailing the two kids themselves, eavesdropping in on their conversations with townsfolk but keeping their distance just enough to not tip them off…

“Okay, so white tulips, white orchids, yellow daffodils, blue hyacinths, pink roses, and forget-me-nots for the funeral arrangements themselves. That's understandable and will look beautiful. But you want the body to hold a bouquet of… geraniums, foxglove, yellow carnations, and orange lilies..?” The florist gave the teen and the tween an odd expression. “…You've checked and double checked the meanings of these flowers right..?”

“Our relationship with our recently deceased father is… complicated.” The masked teen explained. “And it's not exactly easy trying to hold ourselves together when by the time he finally reaches out to us, we arrive to find him dead. Lots of mixed emotions and all that…”

“The timing made it kinda feel like he only wanted us in his life to clean up the mess he left.” The kid with a red beanie added with a nod. “Plus, it's not like we can publicly air out our problems without getting backlash for it.”

The florist bit his lip as he glanced back and forth between the kids of the Masters estate, the flower order he wrote down, and the GIW member pretending to be looking at the poppies on sale. “Okay then…” he hesitantly took the kids' money and got to work on prepping their order, weird request that might cause MORE backlash than they intended or not, the sooner he got them out of his store, the less likely it would be for his workplace to get destroyed.

You could cut through the tense air with a knife…

The kids knew they were being watched, the florist knew they knew they were being watched as he saw the older one pull the younger one close, subtly putting himself between her and the admittedly dangerous government official and occasionally glaring at the GIW member, and the Guy In White occasionally glared back when the boy wasn't looking.

The two hadn't set off the ghost detector, but that didn't deter the Guy In White, the boy was on guard and saw him, if he was nervous enough to keep a keen eye out and had the nerve to glare at the GIW, he HAD to be guilty, and if those two were being honest with the florist, it meant that they HAD the body somewhere..

——

The first team had to do this a little… underhandedly. Disguising two of their members as out of town ghost hunters and buttering up the Fentons on their weapon craftsmanship and asking for a model of their own.

Luckily for them, Mr. Fenton bought into it and let them buy the prototype as he and Mrs. Fenton were currently working on a new and improved version. But unfortunately for them, while the patriarch of the family was easier to convince to let them buy it, he also had a tendency to ramble. Which he did a lot throughout the buying process.

“-Now before you go testing it out, there's something really important you need to know: it's really sensitive to high temperatures including its own ammo, so try to only use one shot at the ghost and wait for it to cool down. No rapid firing just because you missed the first one! …We learned that the hard way. The melted remains of its predecessor are still stuck to the floor and our coolant keeps disappearing so we can't use that to help. Personally, I'm starting to think that a spook managed to figure out a pattern of when the ghost portal closes and opens and uses it to its advantage…” Jack explained to 'Kode ghostless' and 'Overkill' while the two ghost hunters nodded along.

“Uh huh… how long does the Ghost Duster need to take to cool down?”

“At least an hour or so, if you put it in the freezer.”

Ideally, they would've been out of here and hunting down ghosts thirty minutes ago but unfortunately there was enough important information in what was mostly meaningless fluff that them being the ones to leave first might make the man forget to send them the rest of the important information over Email or something.

“Operative J to Operative K, the punks are out of the flower shop and are currently on their way to Fentonworks” K's headpiece crackled. “Is the weapon secured and can you and O leave discreetly?”

“Hold on, I need to take this…” K walked out of the room to talk with J in private. “Weapon bought and secured, we stayed to get more information from the Fentons on how it works and what its weaknesses are. If we're lucky, our men can make sturdier models of this thing. Did you uncover anything about the mystery Masters kids?”

“First names are Jack and Dani, the older kid, Jack, has some strange wounds on his hands, forearms, head, and neck, younger one, Dani, doesn't appear to have any external injuries. Neither of them set off our ghost detectors but both of them set off the ectoplasm detectors. Either they're ghosts good at hiding their ghost…ness from our sensors or they're humans in frequent contact with ghosts either way they're no good news. Judging by what they said in the flower shop, they also know where Masters' body is, they want the body to hold a bouquet and if they didn't know where it was, they'd probably make it easy on themselves by just putting random ashes in an urn and calling them his ashes. I suspect they're hiding it somewhere.”

“Rodger that, what do you think they want at Fentonworks? Do you think the Fentons are in on it?”

“No clue, they are onto us though, so approach this situation with caution.”

“Copy that.” K hung up and returned to the living room.

“Kode! Great for you to join us! I was just about to tell your partner over here about-”

“Yes, yes, say, do you know a… Jack Masters by chance? I've heard some… interesting things about him.”

“Jack? Why he's my old pal Vlad's son!” The man smiled warmly. “I've only met him in person once, but he's a good kid, just recently moved into Amity and I know he'll fit right in.”

“Right, and have you ever noticed anything peculiar about him..?” K raised an eyebrow, knowing that the Ghost Weapon Engineer probably wasn't in on it but was instead being played like a fiddle, but that didn't mean that they couldn't get information out of him.

“Hmm… Now that you mention it…”

“Hey Mr. Fenton?” the front door opened and the pair the GIW were looking over entered. “I uh.. have good news and bad news. The good news is that I found out I have a half sister and she also was in town to visit. But the bad news is… …you might want to sit down for this but when we looked, we found that Vladimir-” The words died in the older teens throat when he saw the Guy in White holding THAT gun.

His eyes were wide with horror, his tongue and throat felt dry, his hands felt sweaty and he didn't know if it was genuine sweat or ectoplasm, his brain was screaming at him to run but his legs felt like they were nailed to the floor, time felt like it stopped, he was so focused on Maddie and trying to change her mind that he had completely neglected the other groups of ghost hunters.

He was doomed. Danielle was Doomed. Danny was Doomed. The ghost zone was doomed. EVERYTHING WAS DOOMED! And his stupid fixation on her, albeit existing for a far different context than before, had doomed everything he was trying to build once more.

Maddie with that gun was horrible, but it was still one thing. Maddie, despite her hatred of ghosts was still a human being with morals and emotions. Vlad knew that if he played his cards right, he could show her that she went too far by creating that thing, showed her that she had made a terrible mistake by pointing it at her old college friend, by making orphans out of innocent children… But the Guys In White? They might have been human, they might have had emotions and morals, but they were merciless, their emotions would not be invested in the suffering of humans in the slightest as long as the ghosts were dead, their morals were rooted in law and law alone, not genuine ethics. Sure, he knows that he crosses the ethical line at times, but he still has morals that he wont cross!

He should've destroyed the gun, destroyed the blueprints for the gun, and told Maddie to her face that she killed Vladimir Masters. He should've gathered as many of his own ashes as he could and dumped them on her desk to make her face the reality of what she did. Then the GIW never would've had the chance to get the gun in their possession.

“J-Kid!” Big Jack got up to greet his nephew. “Kode here and I were just talking about you! And who's this little lady?”

“Hi! I'm Danielle!” She waved at the man in the orange jumpsuit, noticing Small Jack's distress but wanting to lighten the mood. “Jack and I have the same dad, but different moms.”

“Do you now?” The GIW Agent mused as he rested his arm on the gun.

“hEY-” Small Jack cleared his throat after his voice cracked out of nervousness. “Hey Mr. Fenton, can we talk about something important? Just you, me, and Dani?”

He could still manage this.

If he stayed calm and kept his head together, he could break that horrible weapon with ease the second the GIW turned their backs. Judging by the check Big Jack got from them, they had just bought it, so as long as he broke it before they could replicate it, he could continue his plan as normal but also include some extra tweaks, like figuring out what to do with Valerie before she also tries to get her hands on that gun.

“Sure thing kiddo! Er, Kode, Overkill, you two don't mind seeing yourselves out, do you?”

“Not at all, we were just about to leave anyway.”

“Happy hunting you two!” The orange-clad ghost hunter waved the pair off.

'Deep breaths, Deep breaths… collect yourself, stay calm, contain your emotions, do NOT pass out on the floor again…' The hospital halfa mentally reminded himself as he held his hands together. He needed to handle this carefully, respectfully, break Jack Fenton gently now so that there wouldn't be too big of a scene at the funeral itself, Danny might think it's a plot to embarrass him in public otherwise.

“So, J-Kid, how was meeting your dad for the first time? I bet you two got along great! Maybe in the future we could talk about having a good ol' barbecue, Fentons and Masters, or one of those joint family vacations…”

Oh Butterscotch Flavored Fudge, this was going to be harder than he thought…

“Uh, well, about that, I didn't… actually get to meet Vladimir.”

“Oh? That's odd..” Big Jack hummed in thought. “Maybe he went on a business trip? He tends to get called out at sudden times. He'll likely be back in a couple of days at most, try not to worry too much.”

“Er-” C'mon, Ja- Vlad, just say that he died and rip the band-aid off…

“Oh! I'll go get Mads, this type of discussion should probably include her too!”

…Yeah, she'd do a better job at comforting Big Jack than Small Jack.

The blue-clad ghost huntress was surprised to see the teen and the tween, but happy to see that the white-haired kid was looking a bit healthier (Albeit a little shaken up, maybe he saw a ghost?).

“Hello again Jack! Who's your friend?”

“This is Danielle, she's my half-sister from a different mom.”

“Hi Mrs. Fenton! We discovered that we're siblings yesterday and spent most of today running errands together.”

“Oh! That's …fun…” Her smile looked fake and Jack Masters noticed its falseness clear as day, the type of smile a mother who just cleaned the house gives a young child who brought in a mud-covered toad. “Did your dad help?”

“Um…” Danielle didn't know how to answer that, at least not without accidentally outing that she knows what she knows.

“…About Vladimir Masters…” Small Jack tried to find the courage to say it.

“Let me guess, he left you two without a word and left you to fend for yourselves.” She pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head in annoyance. As much as she wanted to hold back for both Jacks' sakes and Danielle's sake, she just couldn't help it, Vlad had crossed a line with her by just… abandoning his own kids like that! “Why would I expect any better from that man?”

“…Why would you expect any better from him..?!” Without the rose tinted glasses of obsession clouding his mind, Maddie's words invoked a lot of anger in Vlad, he balled his hands into fists as buried rage was quickly bubbling to the surface. “WHAT DO YOU EVEN KNOW ABOUT VLADIMIR?!”

Maddie crossed her arms “Jack, I know I shouldn't talk bad about your father, but I've known him better than you-”

“DON'T. YOU. EVEN. DARE! I MIGHT HAVE NEVER MET HIM BUT YOU DIDN'T REALLY KNOW HIM AT ALL! FOR TWENTY YEARS YOU- YOU TWO HAVEN'T SO MUCH AS PAID HIM A VISIT IN THE HOSPITAL, WROTE HIM A SINGLE CARD, GAVE HIM A SINGLE PHONE CALL… ANYTHING! YOU WERE IN THE WRONG WHEN YOU RUINED MY LIFE- HIS LIFE WITH A TERRIBLE, CHRONIC DISEASE THAT I- HE CAN NEVER RECOVER FROM NO MATTER WHAT I- WHAT HE DID! A DISEASE SO TERRIBLE THAT ALL THE MONEY AND POWER IN THE WORLD COULDN'T POSSIBLY COMPENSATE HIM FOR! YOU SHOULD'VE BEEN THE ONES TO REACH OUT TO HIM! NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND! AND TO MAKE MATTERS WORSE, YOU'VE NEVER EVEN SO MUCH AS APOLOGIZED! YOU JUST TRIED TO BRUSH IT UNDER THE RUG AND PRETEND THAT IT NEVER FUDGING HAPPENED! AND GUESS WHAT? NEITHER OF US WILL EVER TRULY KNOW HIM BECAUSE HE'S DEAD AND YOU KILLED HIM!”

The group was stunned into silence as Small Jack caught his breath, desperately trying to regain his composure. The teen wiping his tears on his sweater sleeve.

“All…all I know him from is the one of a kind genetic disease we share, the letters he left behind, and the crap everyone else says about him, but I still know him better than anyone on the planet ever could!”

“J-kid… I'm sorry, but we couldn't visit him in the hospital or do those other things even if we wanted to. And believe me when I say that we did.” Big Jack put his hand on the still fuming boy's shoulder. “The hospital your dad was admitted to burned down shortly after he was brought in. Authorities at the time said that there were no survivors, only a single set of footprints in the ash that led to a lake. I didn't even know he was still alive until years after it happened and by then, he seemed to be living his best life and I thought it would've been better for him if I didn't reach out and drag those bad memories of his back to the surface.” He explained to Small Jack with a degree of sober somberness and seriousness the latter didn't know the former was capable of.

Jack was an idiot, a goofball, and sometimes he just rambled absolute nonsense that was put through layers of rose-tinted glass. But what he was telling him didn't feel like any of that even though Vlad couldn't remember it. There was just… something that made it feel real to him, like if he looked it up online, he'd find an old newspaper about the hospital in question and the tragic event.

“W..what…?” The teen's voice wavered “What do you mean the hospital burned down…? I haven't done- I haven't read about that in any of Vladimir's letters or journals…”

“Well, his situation at the time must've been terrifying, to be the sole survivor of a fire THAT size, right along other kid patients too, some of them younger than him at the time…” Jack winced just thinking about it. “I don't think he wanted to remember, let alone write about it.”

”But… But I… I…”

“There, there…” Big Jack pulled him into a tight hug. “It's okay…”

And with that, Small Jack shakily returned the hug and broke down into tears.

#danny phantom #vlad masters #vlad plasmius #danielle phantom #jack fenton #maddie fenton #guys in white #fanfic #shattered identity

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baby-walsh · 5 months

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My Jack Gladney fic

Summary: It's your last year at College-On-The-Hill and you finally admit your feelings for your professor.

Tags: Teacher-Student Relationship, College, Crushes, Age Difference, Older Man/Younger Woman, Office Sex, Desk Sex, Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, Unsafe Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Creampie

I honestly thought my first AD fic would be for Kylo or Flip but I'm just absolutely feral for Jack rn.

#zo writes fanfic #jack gladney #adam driver fanfiction #white noise fanfiction

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tortillasconsal · 1 year

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I don't know about most semi-obscure creepypasta characters and at this point I'm too afraid to ask

#like- who tf is kagekao #i just know that he likes wine #same with hobo heart #and I always confuse him with that other guy with the red hoodie and a white mask with a heart on it #also that bitch candy pop #I never knew what was up with that clown #I know Jason tho and I think he's besties with candy pop but that's it #nurse ann and dorctor smiley too #i just think ann is hot that's it #also I read this fanfic yesterday and there was this character Lulu and I really want to dig in my memory because that name rings bells #creepypasta #creepypastas #ben drowned #jeff the killer #eyeless jack #slenderman

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lcandothisallday · 10 months

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A Shot Worth Taking - Jeremy (WMCJ) x f!reader

Part 4 - Sister’s Know Best

warnings: except for an awful ending🤡 but mentions of drug/drinking abuse!

series masterlist!

You stood in your tiny kitchen, cutting up cucumbers for the salad you were making, while your friends Vanessa and Destiny hung around the island helping you with the rest of the dinner.

It had been about a month since your first date with Jeremy. You've been seeing him rather consistently in this month, and to say you were slowly yet surely falling hard for him was a severe understatement. All of him was addicting--his smile, his humour, the way he made you feel all giddy--all the way down to the way he dressed even. It's been a while since you felt like this and it was truly refreshing to meet a good guy.

"You know, Jeremy put me on some of these organic drinks...and they're actually so good," you pointed out to your friends. "You should definitely try it. They’re in the fridge--"

"Girl I'm not trying no damn nasty ginger drink that looks like murky water," Destiny scoffed, shaking her head. You tossed your head back in laughter. "I promise it's good!" you defended. "He also took me to this vegan restaurant the other day and like it genuinely changed my perspective on the whole diet.”

Destiny groaned and smacked her hand against Vanessa’s arm. "C'mon Nessa! Tell her his dick game can't be that good for white boy to have her out here eating rabbit food!"

"Actually, we haven't slept together yet," you hummed with a smirk. "So that argument is now invalid...but he seems like the type to have a good dick game," you shrugged, continuing to slice up some more vegetables.

"Speaking of Jeremy though..." Vanessa began. "I don't know if its such a good thing that you're seeing him," she admitted to you reluctantly.

You couldn't help your scoff before you set down the knife you were using and looked up at your best friend. "And why is that?"

"Danny goes to the same gym as him. And he told me some wild shit. Y/N--he pops pills, gets drunk in the gym and starts fights--apparently he used to date a dancer that taught classes there--"

"Yeah I know about his ex," you stated firmly. "They dated for like six years--and Danny's probably getting him confused with someone else! Jeremy isn't like that at all. He rarely gets mad or frustrated. He's always meditating--"

Vanessa shook her head. "You've only been seeing him a month!" she exclaimed. "How well do you actually know him babes? The pill popping--the drinking--probably the reason why him and his ex broke up if they were together six years! Don't be delusional, Y/N. Not to mention he's broke broke. Like I know we all struggle financially in this economy but he goes around selling those detox drinks around the gym--that can't be the best sign," she sighed. "Y/N...I just don't want you to get hurt. You clearly don't know the full picture."

You scoffed again and crossed your arms over your chest. "Oh so Danny does apparently?--God Vanessa I actually really like him! You guys are the ones who told me to shoot my shot!"

"I'm just telling you what Danny told me," she said calmly. "It's simply a warning before you get too deep with him.”

You let out a sigh of defeat and nod your head. “I’ll be careful.”

It was now the next day and Jeremy had invited you out to the pier for a late evening date. Your fingers were intertwined with his as the two of you walked along the water.

“How have your knees been?” you ask him.

Jeremy grinned and gave your hand a squeeze. “Really good! I think getting more movement in while playing more basketball lately has really helped.”

“Is that how it really works?” you questioned with an awkward chuckle, causing Jeremy to catch on. He stopped walking and took both your hands into his, before he looked down at you with a raised brow. “What did you hear about me?”

Your cheeks heated up immensely and you looked away. “C’mon Y/N—someone must’ve told you something for you to question my knees,” he sighed. The only reason he even caught on was because Tati had asked him the same question before, vying for a reason to suspect he was on his pain meds again.

You let out a sigh. “Vanessa’s boyfriend--"

"Damn--I needa properly meet this Vanessa chick cos she clearly has it against me--"

You interrupt quickly. "I'm being serious, Jer. Her boyfriend Danny goes to the same gym as you…told her that you pop pills and that you pick fights while drunk,” you explained.

Jeremy chuckled as one of his hands moved up to run his fingers through his curls. “I only ever picked a fight once—and it was right after my ex left me…and as for the pain meds…they just help with my knees,” he shrugged. “Believe me if my knees weren’t still an issue after the multiple surgeries I’ve had I wouldn’t still be taking them.”

“So it’s not like…an addiction thing?”

Jeremy shrugged, “would you even wanna know if it was?”

“Touché…” you mumbled lowly, biting your lip in thought. “What about you and Tati?” you asked. “Why did you two break up?”

“Y/N I already told you,” he groaned.

You shook your head. “No that was before I knew what I knew,” you say stubbornly.

Jeremy scoffed, his hands leaving yours as he began to feel cornered. “So what? You want me to fucking admit it was because of the pills? And because all I cared about was basketball? Because yeah I guess it was and--"

You cut him off by leaning up and pressing your lips to his in a gentle yet determined kiss. Jeremy's words trailed off, his surprise evident in the way he momentarily froze before he responded to your kiss with equal intensity. The worries and doubts that lingered in your mind were momentarily pushed aside as you allowed yourself to get lost in the warmth of the moment.

After what felt like an eternity, you both pulled away, breathless and eyes wide. Jeremy's expression softened, and he reached up to cup your cheek. "I didn't want to bring this up so soon, but you deserve to know the truth," he admitted, his voice filled with sincerity. "So uh yeah. That's why we broke up."

"I really like you Jer...if you're working on yourself with these things then--"

"I am I am!" he rushed to confirm. "I'm in therapy and I'm getting better being off the pills and I'm not a violent guy--that fight was just at a bad time and--"

"Jeremy!" you interrupted him with a laugh. “I appreciate your honesty. That’s all I wanted,” you explained with a smile.

He let out a breath of relief as he nodded. “Can I kiss you again then?” he asked, his fingers anxiously playing with your own as he felt his cheeks heat up. You giggled as you nodded.

With a grin, he dipped his head back down again, connecting his lips to yours in another searing kiss. Your arms moved up to wrap around his neck while his hands rested on your hips. The kiss deepened, the world around you fading away as you lost yourself in the taste and feel of Jeremy's lips.

Perhaps you were being stupid and let the whole thing slide too easily, but you truly didn’t care in that moment. The way his lips felt soft against your own and how his beard lightly scratched your skin was all that mattered as you kissed under the moonlight and the waves crashed against the shore.

#jack harlow #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow blurb #jack harlow imagines #jack harlow fluff #jeremy x reader #jeremy wmcj x reader #jeremy wmcj #wmcj #wmcj x reader #wmcj concepts #wmcj fics #wmcj fanfic #white men can’t jump

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