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gotnofucks · 4 years

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Pot of Gold

Pairing: Steve x Reader

Summary: You went broke and bet your pussy.

Words: 2k

Warnings: Fluffy smut, slight dom Steve, language, 18+ ONLY

A/N: dedicated to the anon who said she needed fluffy Steve smut so that she could get out of her bed. Hope you feel better hon <3

MASTERLIST

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“And what do you bet?” Thor asked you, stacking other’s money in the center of the table. It wasn’t game night yet, but since no one wanted to go out you lot pulled out a few board games. It was going great until the betting started, because the Avengers just can’t play like normal broke people. You had like an amateur lost all your cash in the last round of poker, and now sitting around some stupid board game with pictures and dices, you were the only one who was penniless. Everyone else had tossed on hundreds of dollars and looked at you curiously.

“I bet my pussy” You said at last and a hush fell around the table. For the first time tonight, you were glad to be the only woman present. The reaction you received from the men was very flattering.

Tony, Steve, Thor, Sam, Bucky, and Clint all looked dumbstruck for a moment, their mouths hanging open in surprise. It was when Tony snorted in amusement that they shook their head and gave you disbelieving looks.

“Don’t look at me like that. I have it on good authority that its like a pot of gold.” You remarked and saw more than one man blush. You didn’t care much about modesty, or shame for that matter.

“Y/n, you can’t be serious” Bucky said, and you shrugged nonchalantly.

“Of course, I am Buck. My pussy is worth more than your money put together, so whoever wins will be more than pleased with the outcome. If someone else wins that is. I have every intension of winning this time ‘round” You declared while cracking your knuckles.

“Cool then. Game’s simple enough. Roll the dice, get big numbers, and cross the obstacles. Whoever reaches the finishing line first wins and takes the prize.” Tony said and Steve looked scandalized.

“You can’t be serious Tony!” He exclaimed and you rolled your eyes right along with Tony’s.

“Listen up Capsicle if the lady wants to bet her cooch, so she can. I for one really want to win this round.” Tony said winking at you, and you giggled.

“You got competition here Stark. I want that pot of gold.” Thor stated and you would be a liar if a fire didn’t start in your belly. You wouldn’t mind any of the men taking you, or all of them.

“Oh baby, you are gonna get some chocolate spread this evening” Sam was rubbing his hands the way villains do and you gave him a once over, licking your lips at the end making him groan. “Cap and Tin Man make be from the 90s, but I can give it to you good.”

“I can give it as good as you Birdguy. Just you wait and see. She’ll be screaming from the rafter!” Bucky was also flexing as if it was a wresting match. You couldn’t help the smug smile that was splitting your face in half. This was much better than any evening out would have been.

The game began without preamble now and you saw more than one salacious look tossed your way. Even Steve and Clint who had so far not made their desire known were looking at you with hot eyes, each person rolling the dice with greater gusto. Sabotage became common, someone trying to knock their elbows and move their pieces. Arguments broke out, the board was almost flipped twice, and the game was nearing the end. You were holding the dices in your hands, rolling them between your thumb and finger as you carefully measured your score. You’d need a 10 to win. Or else you were out. Everyone’s eyes were trained on and you felt the pressure mounting. You breathed deeply then let the dices fall with a loud exhale, holding your breath as they came to a still.

5 and 4

“Fuck!” You shouted and the sentiment was echoed, more like cheered. You sat back on your chair with a huff and cross your arms while Thor puts a hand around you.

“Its okay Y/n, I’ll make sure you win even as you lose.” He made his move and the other guys booed as Thor lost too. You were at the edge of your seat, watching as one by one everyone else rolled the dices across the board. Clint groaned and mimicked your actions when he didn’t make the line, followed by Sam who simply got up and left. You watched Tony, Steve and Bucky battle it out, their tongues between their teeth. You were as anxious as any of the others, legs bouncing in anticipation. You made a small noise of dejection when Bucky lost and pouted. You really wouldn’t have minded that metal hand between your legs.

“Capsicle, why not give up now. It’s not like you’ll know what to do with a woman like our girl here.” Tony goaded Steve who glared at him.

“Make your move Stark.” He simply replied and you leaned forward as the dices rolled. They spun on their edges, making the suspense comically longer and when they finally laid still you started chuckling.

“Next time, Tony.” You consoled, your hand patting his knee. He looked so forlorn that you almost suggested a rematch.

“He still has to make a move! He hasn’t won yet.” Tony pointed at Steve who with all the stoicism bred into him tossed his dices and got the perfect score.

“In your face, playboy!” Steve triumphed and to everyone’s surprise just lifted you onto his shoulders like a sack and began walking away. “Leave the cash with Buck. I’ll take those earnings after I’m finished with the real prize”

Cheers and howls followed you as you dangled over Steve’s back. You had no idea he could be this passionate, but you had no reason to complain. You let him haul you away to his room in relative peace, only getting a slap on your butt after poking Steve’s ass through his joggers. He threw you on the bed and shut the door behind him, turning to look at you with fire in his eyes.

“Velvet or silk?” He questioned and your throat went dry as he walked to his closet in the corner. He raised an eyebrow when you didn’t respond, and you cleared your throat.

“Velvet?” You answered, unsure what you agreed to. Steve came back with velvet lined handcuffs in his hands and you creamed. Holy shit, who would have thought that prim and proper Captain could have a kinky side too.

“Hands behind your head” He ordered in his captain voice and you swore your thighs were trembling in need. This was something so out of the realm of possibility you felt out of your element for a while. You complied, your hands holding the headrest as Steve came forward and cuffed them, the velvet delicate on your skin. He rattled them a little, looking at you in question. “Feel okay?”

You only nodded, too stunned to speak, and licked your lips when Steve removed his t-shirt, his bare chest only serving to make you hotter. You didn’t realize you had parted your legs in welcome until Steve climbed between them, his blue eyes almost black with lust.

“Do you have a safe word?” He asked and you nodded.

“Oatmeal” You answered, and Steve paused as if making sure he heard right. “It is a long story.” You sighed. Steve smiled before leaning over you to kiss you softly, his hands travelling from your hips to your sides, caressing them languidly and then reaching your breasts. You moaned in his mouth when his fingers found your stiff nipples, and you bucked up trying to bring him closer.

“You need to tell me if I hurt you, okay?” Steve urged, his mouth licking a fiery trail on your neck. You nodded, too busy in the feel of his mouth to do more than moan. Oh god, Tony was sooo wrong. Cap knew what to do with a girl alright.

He pulled back enough to take hold of your top and tear it straight down the middle, his inner caveman coming back. Your bra fared the same and Steve wasted no time in lapping up your supple flesh. You were sure your voices carried all the way down to the common room, Steve’s tongue making you go wild.

“No holding back sounds tonight, sweetheart. Or I’ll hold back your orgasms, that clear?” He said and hooked his hands into your pants to pull them down, his hands tracing your bare legs. The look in his eyes made you feel like you’ll combust if he didn’t touch you down there right now.

“Please Steve, don’t tease.” You whined and he bent over you, pulling your panties down with his teeth. You are going to write him a fucking glowing performance review and mail it to Tony tomorrow. Your wildest fantasies couldn’t have prepared you for it. He slipped out of his joggers and boxers, his cock hard and weeping. Your mouth watered and you downright salivated when he stroked it. Steve saw your expression and chuckled.

“You’ll get a taste later. But right now, I’m gonna dip my prick in your pot of gold.”

You wished your hands were free when he fitted himself between your legs, helping you wrap them around his thick frame. He torturously lubed himself up in your juices and entered you sinfully slow, letting you feel every bit of him. You both moaned, your mouths meeting for a sloppy kiss when he started moving, getting faster by the minute. One of his hands reached between your bodies to tweak your clit, alternating rough and soft until you bordered on the edge of your cliff. He was so thick you were stretched almost uncomfortably wide; each inch of your walls being rubbed in the most delicious way. You chanted a crescendo of “yes” and “oohs” and “please” and “faster” along with his name. You didn’t seem to be making sense, but he clearly didn’t care since he did little but grunt in pleasure, hips hammering in you hard enough to bang the headboard against the wall.

“Come on darling, scream for me!” He ordered, his fingering pinching your bud and you exploded around him, your body arching in pleasure. He fucked you through your high, thrusts getting sloppier with every second. “Are you on the pill?” He really should have asked earlier.

“I get a depo shot. Don’t you dare waste a single drop. Need you in me!” You honestly didn’t know what you were saying, instead you seemed drunk on his passion and power. You needed him to fill you up, the very primal animalistic part of you craving his seed.

Steve stuttered, his breath coming out in broken gasps when he finally released in you, hips lazily moving until he went limp right over your body. His weight crushed you, but you didn’t tell him to roll off just yet. The warmth of him fell nice.

He raised his hands and reached to undo your hands, massaging your wrists gently and you fisted them in his hair, pulling him into another deep kiss before letting go. He settled beside you, sweaty body holding yours close.

“You’re not leaving tonight; I still need to taste you.” He murmured in your ear, biting the earlobe, and making you squeal.

“Yes captain” you conceded, and his hand swatted your behind before pulling you closer.

“Can I tell you a secret?” You whispered in his ear after your breaths had settled to normal. He hummed in reply and you sat up, your eyes twinkling. “I lost on purpose”

Steve blinked before a laugh bubbled from deep within him, his arms pulling your body under his as he caged you.

“My god, I think I’m gonna have to fuck you good enough that you never think of letting another man fuck you. This pot of gold,” he cupped your pussy, “I have no intension of sharing it”.

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Gonna re-blog with tags later

Taglist is Open.

#steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve x you #steve x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n

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ppersonna · 4 years

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flat tire - kth | m

↳ summary- how do you pass the time when you’re stuck on the side of the road with your boyfriend, with a flat tire?

↳ rating- explicit/18+/nsfw

↳ pairing- kim taehyung x reader

↳ word count- 2.2k

↳ genre- smut, light fluff lol

↳ warnings- oral sex (m receiving), nipple play, dirty talk

↳ a/n- a small little drabble that @taetaewonderland suggested i try my hand at! i was originally gonna use yoongi but i thought tae would be a great fit ha ha no pun intended. enjoy!! send in your requests! message, dm, comment, i love all forms of communication!

“Fuck,” Taehyung curses as the car bumps violently. You clutch at the seat belt across your chest as your boyfriend navigates the car off the road and onto the side, allowing it to come to a stop with the awful thumping sound slowing with it.

“What happened?” You asked, slightly dazed. “Did we lose a tire?”

Tae chuckles despite his frustration. “Honey, if we lost a tire, we would be way more fucked than we already are.”

Your mouth forms an ‘o’ shape as the brunette boy unbuckles and exits the car. You hear him grumble as he walks around the perimeter, kneeling down in the back to check out the damage.

He returns momentarily and pulls his cell phone out of his pocket.

“Left rear tire is blown out,” he sighs as he scrolls through his phone. “I asked Jungkook to fix it a week ago. Dumbass…”

You sniffle and rub at your arms. Without the heater in the car, the chill of the night is creeping up your skin.

Tae’s fingers tap away a message, pause, then continue for a moment. He’s clearly involved in a conversation with someone, and you hope he gets help soon.

“Jimin and Jungkook are on their way with the spare,” he notes as he sets his phone down in his lap. He finally peers over and looks at you attempting to warm yourself and smirks. “Are you cold?”

“A little, yeah,” you sigh as you look at the strapless dress on you that you chose for your date night out.

“Awww, poor baby,” he pouts playfully. He’s making fun of you, you can tell, and you stick your tongue out at him.

You cross your arms tighter around your body and puff out a distressed breath of air.

“Don’t be mean. I wore it for you!”

Taehyung’s pout curls into a smirk.

“You did? All cute for our date tonight?”

You nod, eyes big. “I wanted it to be special since you’ve been gone so much and we haven’t seen each other.”

Tae’s eyes fill with an unnamed emotion that shoots straight through your heart. He places a hand on your cheek, caressing the gentle skin there before leaning in to press a kiss to your lips.

Kissing Tae never gets old. If you were a religious person, you’d say it’s like seeing the face of god. The sky opens, the heavens sing. He tastes like strawberries and cream. He makes you feel like all your problems didn’t just melt away, but that they never existed in the first place.

“I’ll make it up to you tonight when we get home,” he murmurs after he pulls away. “We’ll order pizza. You can do a striptease for me. We’ll watch a Disney movie and fuck.”

You can’t help but laugh at the smile he has on his face—the one that says he thinks he’s truly thought of the best date ever.

“But,” his finger trails down your neck as he continues. “We have a bit before the guys get here. We could have some fun while we wait.”

His deep voice goes even lower, hitting an octave that strums your core and plays just the right note. It generates heat within you.

“Here in the dark?” You ask timidly as his hands caress your shoulders.

“Would you rather it be light outside?” He jokes.

A blush blooms on your cheeks. You’ve never done anything in public with your boyfriend before. Your timid nature dictates you keep that for the confines of your locked bedroom. It was even hard to do anything with Yeontan, your shared pet, in the room.

But you couldn’t deny the idea sounded thrilling. Invigorating even. It lit a match inside you and the look on Tae’s face was the gasoline to make it erupt into an inferno.

“I’ve always wanted to try, erm,” you fumble for the right words. “... road head?”

Tae grins even bigger, his boxy smile on display.

“Look at you,” he beams. “My naughty little kitten.”

While you’re adventurous as the next person in the bedroom, you’re a timid one in public. But you’d risk it all for the man next to you.

“I guess it’s not technically road head if you’re not driving,” you sigh as Tae sits back in his seat.

“Oh darn,” he tsks. “Guess it’s just regular head then. On the road.”

Tae makes you laugh and the knot of anxiety loosens inside you. He’s your boyfriend, your protector and your safe place. There’s no reason to be anxious.

A coy smile grows on you as you tug your dress down to expose your bare breasts. You can tell it throws Tae off by the double take he has to do.

“Shit!” He gasps as he moves towards you. His mouth is pulled to a nipple like there’s a gravitational pull. The second his mouth latches onto a hardened nub, you’re gasping for air and tugging your fingers through his clean, long hair. You used to ask him to get a haircut, but now you’re not so sure. It makes for an excellent grip.

“Baby,” you whine as he nibbles gently. His hands cup both breasts and massage them gently. He sucks, tugs, pulls, and swirls his tongue around the nipple and it makes your gasps echo around the car. Your silk panties are nearing water-logged, and your legs press together to sate the burning you feel.

Tae switches to the other nipple and presses the flat of his tongue against it. It’s lewd, the way he wantonly stares at you while he licks at your nipple like it’s a melting ice cream cone. He does the same to your cunt, when he spends hours devouring you whole. The thought has you aching for more.

“Please, Tae,” you whine. “Let me take care of you. I need you.”

Tae chuckles with his mouth still eagerly wrapped around a tit, but he pops off easily and licks his lips.

“You can’t just whip your titties out and not expect me to suck them,” he shrugs.

He moves to unbutton his slacks but your hand stills him. He looks at you for a moment in confusion, but the smirk on your face says it all. You want to be the one to undress him.

“Be my guest.” He leans back in the chair and pushes it away from the steering wheel, giving you ample space to get down to business.

You’re nearly salivating as you can see the straining of your boyfriend’s hard cock against the expensive slacks. His eyes are tracking you, you can feel them burning into your skull, as your delicate hands rubs the length of him. His gentle intake of breath is the only way you know he’s affected. He’s trying to keep himself cool, not lose control too soon.

The button and fly are easy to do, but you take your time doing them. Tae’s mouth falls open with each brush against him. It’s nearly torture, and he’s so turned on by this behavior of yours that he can’t find it in himself to care about the way you’re teasing him.

He hisses as his cock springs free with one hard tug down. The cool air of night feels like December on his hot, aching cock but he knows soon he’ll be enveloped in your humid mouth.

“So pretty,” you coo as you lean down close. A finger trails up and down the vein running underneath it and Tae shivers.

“Yeah, you are,” he sighs as he presses his head back against the headrest, eyes falling closed at the gentle sensation. “Fuck, even your teasing feels good.”

Pride swells in your heart as you rub a finger around the thick head, smearing a trail of his pre-cum with it. Tae can’t hold back the soft groan and gasp at the feeling.

“Is this teasing?” You ask coyly, knowing the answer already.

“Mm,” he sighs. “I dunno. You’re the expert.”

It makes you giggle softly, and you gently allow your tongue to fall out of your mouth and lick coquettishly at the tip and smeared pre-cum your finger recently vacated.

“Shit!” Tae’s legs jerk a little at the feeling of your fiery tongue. His hand grips the side of the car door as his eyes squeeze closed, tight.

Your smirk is nearly exploding off your face, and you finally find it in your heart to grant the man mercy. You suck the tip of his cock into your mouth, allowing your tongue to lick and swirl around the head. You’ve sucked your boyfriend’s cock—in the privacy of your own bedroom, that is—so many times that you can unlock him like a code. He’s weak for the attention to the tip. Couple it with wet strokes of his shaft and the man is rewarding you with a hot load of cum.

“Oh, baby,” he whines. “Baby, baby.”

He loses ability to say anything intelligent—moaning your name and the various pet names he deems appropriate for the night. Tonight’s name is ‘baby’. Sometimes it's ‘kitten’. Sometimes it’s 'dirty bitch’. He must be in an affectionate mood.

His hand falls to the back of your head, gripping lightly at your hair to form a ponytail in his grasp. He gently guides your head down, encourages you to begin the descent further to take him in. You allow the direction and steel yourself as your throat expands to take him all the way in. It’s slow enough that you don’t gag—you and Tae have trained your throat now to take him deep.

You come to a rest as you bottom out, nose pressed against the skin of his thigh. You swallow gently, allow his cock to feel the wave of muscle work its way down his cock. Taehyung nearly jumps out of his seat at the feeling.

“Holy fuck,” he puffs an exasperated breath out. “You’re gonna make me cum so fucking fast.”

You swallow again, as if to say ‘that’s the fucking point’, and Tae whines loudly. He grips at your hair tighter and pulls gently, begging you to begin a pace on his cock.

You can’t find it in you to fight it. You want to give in to him, want to make him cum so hard and good for you that you’re drinking it.

It doesn’t take long to set a pace, a hand moving in to assist your plight as you grip at the length you cannot fully suck into your mouth. Your lips suction and tongue continues its swirling barrage on any square inch of your cock it can find.

Tae moans loudly, head falling back against the headrest again with a much louder ‘thunk’ than the one previous. His hand massages at the roots of your hair, a gentle touch that thanks you for your current service.

“So g-good,” he gasps. “Love that hot little mouth, shit.”

Tae’s always vocal in bed, and it’s one of the things you love about him most. You love that he’s incapable of shutting up, ever. He talks in his sleep, in the shower, and when your mouth or cunt are shoved full of his cock. It’s so Tae that it reverberates a feeling of love and affection for the man in your heart, despite the lewdness of the act you’re currently engaged in.

Your free hand moves to draw circles and lightly hold his balls, rolling them gently in his hands. This is the secret combination in the key to cracking Taehyung’s code. He thrills for stimulation everywhere, anywhere. Scratching your nails down his chest as he fucks you, gripping his thighs, cupping his balls. It sends him reeling.

“Oh, my god!”

You’re correct, yet again. His cock hardens even more in your mouth, the tip straining against your tongue as it fights against the urge to cum. He’s close.

“I’m close! B-baby! Ohhh, fuck. You wanna swallow me, baby?”

When has that ever been a question he needed to ask? You nod, cock still deep inside your throat, and the motion makes him keen.

“O-oh, god.”

His legs are tensing, you can feel the way his thighs steel against themselves to prepare for the oncoming storm of his orgasm. You increase your speed, hand working furiously in time with the rhythm of your mouth. Tae’s singing your name like it’s a prayer, like you’re a god who just saved his crops from famine and drought. Maybe you are.

“I’m cumming! Fuuuck, baby! ‘M gonna cum!”

You already know it’s coming before he announces—you can tell by the way his cock head pulses and thickens in your mouth. Hot stripes of cum pool on your tongue and down your throat as Tae’s deep voice groans loudly throughout the car. His hand grips your hair tightly, near the verge of pain, but you don’t care. All you care about is sucking him until you’ve cleaned up every last drop.

Your tongue laves around the surface of his head still lodged in your mouth and Tae hisses at the overstimulation. You pull off his length languidly, smirking as you visibly swallow and open your mouth for the boy. He grins through his heavy panting.

He opens his mouth to say something, but you’re interrupted by a knock at the now steamy window and the shine of a phone flashlight. Tae scurries to do up his pants and you’re squeaking in fright as you tug your dress back over your exposed breasts.

Tae rolls the window down and Jungkook’s pink face is at the other side, with Jimin behind him—arms crossed.

“You guys are fucking gross,” Jimin grumbles. “I told you we wouldn’t take that long.”

Taehyung grins as he lets a hand fall onto your soft thigh.

“Had to pass the time somehow.”

#bts smut #bts taehyung #bts v #taehyung smut #ficswithluv #bangtanarmynet #taehyung #kim taehyung #v #bangtan bts #bts bangtan #bts fic #bts fluff #heartsforbts #ksmutclub #btswriterscollective #kwritersworldnet #bangtanheadquarters

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phantomphangphucker · 4 years

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Ectober Day 15: Trapped - Adulting: But Ghostly

Screwing up in the Fenton Lab was a pretty normal regular thing, but screwing up in such a way to botch someone’s age and humanness without actually changing said we and humanness was a weird one. This is totally definitely Tucker’s fault. Danny caused it, but it’s still Tucker’s fault.

Tucker chuckles at his two friends, “honestly, helping clean up the lab is a weak ass punishment”, shrugging, “all things considered”.

Danny glances at him while pointedly picking up some very sticky and slightly mouldy, touching it with as few fingers as possible, “you sure about that one?”.

Tucker waves him off, “only makes sense for you to clean up the nasty shit. Unlike us, that won’t get you sick”. Danny flips him off while dropping the soggy piece in the garbage bag. Sam just smirks.

Not even five minutes later Tucker knocks some spray-can thing onto the ground, which in typical fashion explodes. Danny eyes the pink mist and sighs, “whelp, now there’s more mess, thanks Tu-”, cutting himself off at feeling a slight tingling across his skin. Turning to glare at Tucker, “oh fuck you”.

Relenting in said glaring at noticing that Tucker and Sam are both glowing now, glancing to his arm and groaning over the matching glow.... Great, just great. Quirking an eyebrow over watching the skin on his arm slowly stain a pale blue and increase in muscle mass? Looking up to his friends and gapping slightly. Jet black skin patching over Tucker’s face and pale green on Sam’s.

Tucker sounds slightly in awe but also worried as he flips over his clawed hand a few times, “okay, might have fucked up a little”, and blinking at the echo to his voice.

Sam grabs at her hair, seemingly made of vines now and with purple flowers popping open, “ya think?”.

Then both of them turning to Danny and grimacing, while he’s having a slight crises at definitely recognising the feel of ecto-flames where there should be hair. Immediately moving to check his pulse, the other two quickly following suit with wide eyes. Sam snapping, “if we just got offed, I’m gonna be pissed”.

Danny’s the first to sigh in relief, being the only one who very frequently checked his pulse normally. He could do without being any more dead, thank you very much.

Tucker snorts, “awesome, so I didn’t just accidentally kill us”.

Danny points at him, “meaning the labs death toll is still only half”, pausing, noting the deep baritone, and touching his throat, “woah”. Then grabbing his much larger than normal hands around his forearm with a quirked eyebrow. Looking up to his friends who are effectively copying him. Both a bit taller and more muscular. Both had longer hair too, though Tucker’s was barely past his ears and dreaded with gold caps on the ends, while Sam’s was nearly past her waist and looked like long vines of purple asters. Their faces were kinda different too and Tucker even had facial hair. They looked... like adults? adult ghosts at that, minus still being in their regular clothing anyways; which definitely didn’t fit super well anymore. Moving his arm a little and actually cringing slightly over the strain his shirt was under; okay, it’s good he wore baggy clothing or he would have ruined his clothing entirely. He might ruin them as it is.

Sam pointing to him, “you sound like Dan”.

Danny shrugs a bit awkwardly, “sound different to myself”. And thank the Ancients for that. He could do without hearing Dan’s voice every time he opened his mouth. Does feel slightly bad for his friends though.

All three make their way over to the back wall mirror and poke at their faces. Blinking eyes and baring fangs. Tucker chuckles, “I have fucking facial hair”, and starts hopping around on his feet, “and what am I? Like six feet tall?”.

Sam and Danny roll their eyes. Danny crossing his arms and looking down at Tucker. Who pauses just to shove Danny, “hey, we all already knew you were going to be a tall bastard”, then going wide-eyed, “dude holy shit! That stuff turned us into adults! Awesome!”.

Sam points at him, “and ghosts”, pulling at the corner of her eyelid, “though yes, green eyes are pretty wicked”.

Danny points at her, “and your skin’s such a pale green than your eyes don’t blend in”. Sam just smirks at that. Tucker pats him on the back though, “well at least yours aren’t red”.

“Amen to that”.

Sam shakes her head a little, putting her hands on her hips, “okay, as cool as this is -though it is kinda curious we’re not displaying powers- I think we should, I don’t know, fix this?”. Danny rubs his neck while nodding and Tucker snatched back up the can before flopping into a chair, “I got this. Hold your ecto-knickers”. Trying to lean his head back only for the headrest to not be up high enough, muttering, “man that’s weird”, as he readjusts it.

Forty minutes later finds Tucker groaning, “okay, I officially really screwed up. Completely screwed the pooch”. Earning loud groans from his two friends.

Sam pushes herself up, “alright, Mr. Bad Luck, the fuck’d you do?”.

Tucker sticks out his hands, smashing one on a table, “ts not what I did! It’s what the Fenton’s didn’t do! Also, ow”.

Danny and Sam sighing, “let me guess, no reverse option and they didn’t write the formula down?”.

Tucker snaps his fingers at them, “bingo. Man, it’s like you’re psychic”.

Danny rolls his eyes, “more like my parents are just predictable... and kinda incompetent”. Everyone cringing a little over that.

Sam rubs her eyes, “alright, so now what are we going to do? We can’t go anywhere like this and we-all-know-who will shoot us the second they get home”.

Danny taps his chin, “well, I’m not in my jumpsuit so I don’t look blatantly like Phantom so I think I’m in the clear for that. And we have planned for a situation where I couldn’t change back human. So I’ve already got makeup, wig and contacts. But Wig and contacts only work for me and I’m definitely not your guy’s colour”.

Tucker snorts, “you don’t say you pasty-ass fuck”. Sam rolls her eyes, “excuse you?”.

“You’re pale, he’s pasty”.

Sam nods curtly with a smug grin. Danny just chuckles.

Tucker claps the chairs armrests, “whelp we should probably at least get you looking human, before we run out of luck or something”. Sam grumbling, “you’re gonna jinx us”. Which Tucker, of course, waves her off as they all get up.

However when they walk into the living room just as the front door opens, Sam and Danny glare at Tucker who laughs awkwardly, “oops?”. All three snapping their heads towards the pair of hunters as said hunters immediately, and predictably, draw ecto-weapons, “hold it right there spooks!”.

Danny holds his hands out, “wait! Wait! We’re not ghosts!”.

His mom doesn’t let him continue, “can it, we know what ghosts look like”. His dad nodding, “you might be able to trick some regular joes but not the Fenton’s”.

Sam mutters, “wow this is awkward”. Tucker just nods slightly at her while gulping.

Danny makes pacifying motions, “but wouldn’t we be floating and stuff if we were newly formed ghosts. We’re not even glowing properly”, it was true, their glows were so small they practically weren’t glowing at all, “so could you put the weapons down, mom, dad”, putting his hands down and shrugging loosely very intentionally, “I’d really rather not get gooped”.

His parents actually look to be considering this, not dropping their weapons though. Figures. His mom readjusting her grip as she goes to dig in her pocket. Producing a chunk of ectoranium seconds later, “well if that’s the case and you’re not ghosts then you shouldn’t have a reaction to this”, and moves to poke Tucker’s arm with the tip, gun staying trained on them all the while. Everyone watching as absolutely nothing happens.

Tucker grins almost apologetically while Danny speaks, “see?”.

Both his parents look puzzled at the ectoranium and Tucker’s arm before Maddie blinks and looks at each of them, her eyes widening, “Danny? Tucker? Sam?”. Which the three of them nod rapidly at. Thankfully their moods do a complete one-eighty at that.

Jack practically bounding over to Danny and actually having to look up at him slightly, laughing and patting his head, “ha! I knew someone was going to get my Fenton genes!”, and pats him on both shoulders like he was measuring how wide he was. Maddie smiles sweetly at him before giving the group of teens who don’t look like teens a puzzled look again, “what I don’t get is, how’d this happen?”.

Danny and Sam immediately pointing at Tucker, but wind up smacking him in the face. Danny chuckling, “shit sorry man, ain’t used to the arm length”. Tucker predictably waves both of them off, though rubbing his cheek from Danny’s hit because well, getting effectively smacked by someone with super-strength and hands that look like pure muscle hurts.

Sam rolls her eyes and explains to Maddie, “that idiot knocked over a spray can looking thing that sprayed pink mist everywhere”.

“Hey, at least I didn’t do it intentionally”. Everyone ignores that.

Maddie taps her chin, “I don’t understand. It shouldn’t have been able to do this without something ectoplasmic around”. While Jack is off in his own world wrapping his fingers around Danny’s biceps.

Danny chuckles at his excitable dad before looking to his mom, “mom. My contamination?”.

That gets both his parents attention, them blinking and going wide-eyed, “oh”.

Sam huffs and crosses her arms, “and really, you’d think you guys wouldn’t have teens, especially Danny, cleaning up down there if you even think you have stuff that can go off like this. It’s irresponsible”. Tucker chuckles, “I’m just glad we only look like ghosts“. Everyone, especially Danny’s parents, nod rapidly at that.

Tucker nodding his head at the lab doors, “I tried to find a reverse or the formula and back engineer it, but you guys forgot to do that... again”. Making both parents cringe a little, Jack rubbing his neck awkwardly.

Danny nods at Tucker before looking back to his folks, “so on that note, do you think you could fix this? Because you didn’t recognise us and I don’t think that Red will pause long enough to hear us out”. Sam scowls and rolls her eyes over that. Danny adding on, “something to at least get us looking human again. We can probably handle the adult-looking thing”.

Tucker chuckles and strokes his facial hair, “it is pretty neat”, smirking at his friends, “I bet the ladies will dig a guy with facial hair”, glancing to Danny’s face, “that isn’t on fire”. Both Sam and Danny predictably hit him.

“No trying to pick up older women, you pervert”.

“Hey, you can barely tell it’s flaming and you’re still you so don’t count on that”.

Tucker pouts at both of them, “why do you have to be so mean”, but obviously doesn’t mean it.

Maddie and Jack smile at the threes antics, if they hadn’t already been sure they would be now. Maddie smiles sweetly at Tucker, “you’re a minor. So please don’t do that”, shaking her head at him waving her off though knowing he probably won’t actually chase after an older woman. Looking to the three of them, “how about we get you three back down to the lab and see what we can do? Alright?”. The three look to each other, exchange shrugs, and following the pair of hunters down to the lab. Jack immediately bounding off and picking up the can.

None of the trio are really surprised that Maddie gets them to sit down and starts examining them, leaving the can to Jack. Her putting a stick in Danny’s mouth and blinking at the forked tongue, “well sweetie, you make for one very intimidating ghost”. Her continuing when the trio all cringe, “technically that’s a good thing. Ghosts are supposed to be scary, you wouldn’t want to be like the Box Ghost now would you?”, all three cringe way more over that, so Maddie gives a satisfied curt nod. While Danny starts fiddling with his tongue.

Maddie pokes at Sam’s flowers, “can you feel this?”.

“Yeah”, putting a little bite in her words, which sounds more than a little threatening with the echo, “so maybe don’t go ripping them off”. Maddie nods while Tucker chuckles, “man the echo sure changes the way we sound. I doubt you meant for that to sound like a threat”. Sam just huffs at that, making Danny and Tucker chuckle at her expense. Maddie, however, smiles slightly, relieved that she hadn’t actually been being threatened; it could always be hard to tell with Sam.

Maddie stares at and inspects Tucker’s skin quizzically, “we’ve never even seen a ghost with pure black skin before. Wonder why”. Everyone shrugs at that, except Jack who’s off in his own world tinkering away. Tucker snickers and elbows Danny, “well we’ve all seen ones with blue, isn’t that right”.

“Do you want me to punt you through a wall? I’m pretty sure I could very easily”, Danny flexes slightly for emphasis but facepalms at ripping sounds, “damnit”. Everyone else snorts and starts laughing at him.

Jack makes a hum that sounds more unhappy than anyone wants to hear, him grabbing Maddie’s arm to drag her over without even looking at her. The trio exchanging glances, all three muttering, “fuck”. Maddie turning around and looking a bit apologetic, “well, it seems that Danny’s contamination sort of... messed with things a little”. The trio groan. “Or rather, bonded with it. Even now the ecto that he sheds off is feeding into the chemical that’s in your systems. If you stayed away from him for at least a week you’d go back to normal on your own. But there doesn’t seem any way for us to artificially force this to revert”, sending Danny a very sympathetic look, “and I can’t see any way to fix this for you sweetie, sorry”.

Danny leans back and groans, before giving his friends awkward looks and rubbing his neck. They don’t even let him get a chance to say anything before Sam snaps, “not happening then”. Tucker nodding and smiling, “yeah, we’re not avoiding Danny-dude. And we’re especially not leaving him to put up with this by himself”. Maddie can’t help but smile at them, “you guys are probably the closest friends possible”. Which all three beams over, even if Danny still looks pretty apologetic.

Everyone turning their heads at Jack shouting, “ah-ha!”, and spinning around in his chair, “alright, so we totally can make another spay that could hide all this ghost-looking stuff!”, muttering at the floor, “won’t fix the aged up thing”, looking back to them, “but! It’ll get you looking human! All of you”. Earning grins all around.

Maddie looking back to the trio, “we’ll work on that, you three go upstairs and play games or eat. I don’t think any of us want you down here in case the prototype malfunctions”. Which all three laugh at.

“Yeah wouldn’t want to make this worse!”.

“Besides, Danny needs to change”.

“Hey. But yeah”.

Maddie shakes her head at the three as they head upstairs.

Danny flops down on his bed, having changed into a very stretchy sweater and sweats, “so I guess we’re stuck like this huh?”.

Sam giving a very apathetic, “yup”, as she flops down in her beanie, before wincing and sitting up, pulling her hair out of the way. Grumbling, “this is why I keep my hair short”. Tucker shakes his head around, making the dreads and metal on them smack his face, “I don’t know, it’s kinda fun”.

“Grow it to ass length and see how you feel then”.

“Naw, I’m a guy so”.

“Are you saying only girls can have long hair!”.

Danny snickers over what sounds like a mild slapping match. They’d be fine. School though, ho boy that was going to be a fucking trip. There was literally no way in all the infinite lands of the Ghost Realm that people wouldn’t freak over them looking like adults. Zone, he could see people asking to get sprayed too. Because honestly? Who wouldn’t want to automatically know how they’d look when they’re older. Danny gets that it’s a little less novel for him due to the whole Dan thing, but still. Adding in the ghost thing. Tilting his head, though it was kinda funny Sam wound up with flowers in her hair and wait... wasn’t the area around Tuck’s eyes a bit darker? Glancing at his friends and squinting, yeah Tuck looked like he kinda had makeup... on... wait a second. “Guys”, pointing at the two of them, “Pharaoh. Undergrowth”.

They both blink at him before Sam grabs at her hair and shoved a pocket mirror at Tucker to poke at his eyes. Tucker blinks and hands back over the mirror, “huh, well let’s not point this out to your folks. Like seriously dude”. Sam nods and frowns, “you don’t think this’ll give Undergrowth some control over me?”, looking between the two boys, “and should we really be surprised? We already knew the stuff that happened those times wasn’t really something that just goes away. Undergrowth adopted me”, pointing at Tucker, “and your soul is still T. Duulaman’s, sceptre or no”.

Danny hums and taps his chin, “I don’t think we have to worry about being controlled. We’re not actually ghosts. We just look like them. But fair point. And not like we can really do anything about it”. The two sighing, “yeah”. Danny points at them again, “but if this does start negatively affecting you guys, like our kind of negative, then you guys are staying away from me to get this to wear off. I’ll go hide at the ClockTower Citadel if I have too”. They both roll their eyes at his typical overprotective antics but they do nod.

Tucker points at him and leans forward, “honestly, you should visit ClockWork over this, I’m not sure if this ‘aged up’ thing would count as messing with time. Especially for other people to see”. Danny hums and nods at that. Sam nods herself and gets up to flop on the bed next to him, “and maybe ask them how to fix you. Because you being stuck ghost-looking in both forms screams bad news”.

Tucker joins them on Danny’s other side as Danny replies, “yeah. As it is when I’m an adult ghost my parents are so definitely going to put the pieces together now”. Both them snort at that, pointing out that that was ridiculously obvious. Tucker smacking him, “first, you need a bigger bed. Second, it’s not like you intended to keep this from them after Highschool anyway”.

Danny snorts, “true, on both accounts”.

It surprisingly doesn’t take long for Danny’s folks to barge into the room. Jack presenting a little perfume-looking bottle dramatically, “it’s done! And was surprisingly easy!”.

The trio blink, Sam muttering, “huh, that never happens for us”. Making them chuckle a little as they go about getting up. Danny asking, because he has to ask, “and it’s good for me? You checked it against my stuff?”.

Maddie nods at him reassuringly right off the bat, “no worries sweetie, that’s the first thing we did”. Which he grins over as the three stand to let themselves get a good spray down. Everyone watching in fascination as their skin starts patching back to their normal human skin tones. Jack actually whispering, “that looks so cool”, and Maddie patting him on the arm.

The first thing Danny does is pat his hair, sighing over it no longer being fire. “Awesome”, and puts his hand to his throat, “huh”.

Tucker blinks at him, “you know, without the echo you actually sound kinda sexy”. Everyone looks at Tucker with disbelief; Sam smacking him over the head. Everyone starts laughing after a bit though.

Danny giving his mom a hug, which is weird with her being so much smaller than him, “thanks mom”. She leans up to ruffle his hair, looking slightly apologetic, “of course, Danny. And we’ll try to keep the volatile stuff put away from now on”. Sam and Tucker snicker knowing that won’t even last a week. Never did. Danny just laughs, “appreciated”, even if he also knew it wouldn’t last.

Jack laughs, hands on his hips, “well you kids’ make for pretty fine looking adults!”. The three all grinning at him. But that gets Maddie to tilt her head and squint at Danny. Him quirking a sharp eyebrow at her before she leans forward and sticks her fingers in his mouth, “uhhhhh”.

Jack and Maddie both blink at him, though Sam and Tucker bend over laughing. Maddie speaking up, “you have fangs still”. Danny leans back to get her fingers out of his mouth, “ah well, my contamination was bound to affect me, right?”, and rubs his tongue over his teeth. At least his tongue wasn’t still forked. That was something.

Tucker leans over and flicks his ear, “ears are pointy too”, and snickers. Danny batting away his hand.

Maddie frowns a little but nods, “yes, I guess that would make sense. Can’t say I like it though”. Jack waves her off, “oh it looks manly on him! And people intentionally get their teeth and ears pointed sometimes! Right Sam?”. Sam nods but is frankly surprised he’s waving this off. Honestly, so is Danny.

Maddie purses her lips but nods, “you do have a point”, looking to Danny, “well I guess you better get used to it. You’re stuck with it”.

Danny shrugs, “eh I’m not complaining. Didn’t even notice”, baring his teeth, “are they that noticeable though?”. Sam rolls her eyes, “yes”. While Tucker snorts, “Vlad would be jealous”.

Jack tilts his head, “Vladdie has fangs?”. All three blink at him in disbelief and speak in unison, “you didn’t notice?”. Jack shakes his head and shrugs, while Maddie taps her chin, “now that I think about it, yeah I’ve noticed. But it’s been so long that I don’t think I really notice any more”.

Sam mutters, “that tracks”, to herself. Danny rubs his neck, “ah well hopefully you’ll get used to mine then too I guess”, he seriously can’t believe his dad’s never noticed though. Vlad flashed them threateningly all the time. Or maybe Danny was just more likely to notice thanks to heightened vision and ghost instincts.

Maddie hums, “well anyway, you kids should get some rest before school tomorrow. I don’t doubt that will be a bit hectic”.

All three giving matching deadpanned, “obviously”’s. As the couple turn to leave, not without Jack patting Danny’s head excitedly though.

The three stare at the door for a beat. Tucker clapping Danny on the back, “I think your dad likes the height”. Sam rolling her eyes as she moves back to the bed, “only because someone’s finally taller than him”.

Danny shrugs as him and Tucker move to join her, “eh, can’t say I blame him. It’s just like how being around ghosts that are actually stronger than me makes me feel less overpowered”, squinting at them, “and no, I don’t just mean ClockWork”, which earns laughs from the two.

Sam sighs into the blankets, “you know, when you’re an adult, an actual adult ghost, ClockWork probably will be the only one”. Danny grumbles, “don't remind me”. Which she snorts at.

Tucker rolls over and watches the ceiling a little, “at least being stuck as adults will really only be weird for a few years”, fiddling with his hair a little bit, “think I should keep the dreads?”.

Danny just grunts while Sam actually answers the boy, “they suit you. Keep ‘em. Why do you think I went and gave you fake ones when you tried the whole goth thing”. Now it’s Tucker’s turn to groan, “now don’t remind me”. Making them all laugh.

“Hey, nothing could compare to Sam’s pink get-up when I un-half-died”. Sam hits Danny for that one. Sam smacking Tucker for good measure, “you’re never going to live down hitting on me”.

“More like never going to not wish you hadn’t said yes before I realised you were you”. Sam shoves him off the bed with a scowl for that one.

Danny mumbles, “sleep sleep time”, and sticks his arm over the bed to physically drag Tucker back up, “come here pillow”, and wraps his arms around both of them tightly.

Tucker chuckles, “your hands are fucking huge now. Seeing that coming for my face was mildly horrifying”. Danny just grumbles incoherently into the bed. Sam sighs, “you’re not going to let us up, are you?”.

Danny grins into the bed, “nope. You’re trapped now”. Earning fond sighs from the two as they settle in to sleep.

#ectober #ectober2020 #ectober 2020 #danny phantom #phandom #aged up #but not in the way you think #adult ghost selves #science weirdness #crack treated seriously #fan fic #phan phic #my writing #have a fic suck my dick #phantomphangphucker

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rawiswhore · 4 years

Text

Hunter Hearst Helmsley x Fem Reader- “Nipple H”

________________________________________________________________

It's 1996, late 1996 to be exact, perhaps around August.

Just before a certain wrestling icon known as Triple H would go by that moniker and would go under a vast majority of gimmick changes, he was a fresh new WWF star whose character was a classy, snooty, 1800's gentleman named Hunter Hearst Helmsley.

And you worked as his valet, dressed in beautiful, sparking gowns, his arm wrapped behind your waist as he entered the arena.

However, off stage, Hunter wasn't what he played on television, neither were you.

You and Hunter were riding on his tour bus that the two of you shared together, you sat next to him, and the only other person with you on this bus was the driver.

You were dressed in an oversized Adidas T-shirt with no bra underneath and one of Hunter's basketball shorts.

Hunter was sitting next to you dressed in a baggy man's T-shirt and loose fitting basketball shorts, his hair long and tousled.

Since he's not on television and not in character, should he be called Hunter or by his real name, Paul?

You were looking out the window, watching trees and houses and what have you all go by you very quickly.

The sun was shining down on your tour bus, the bus driving through the middle of nowhere.

You got a little bored just sitting there, not doing much besides listening to your CD player and sleeping, even imagining certain things here and there.

You always loved the attention your nipples got, no, not compliments, but when men (Hunter/Paul included, and Shawn Michaels for that matter since you've fucked him a few times) played with your nipples and areolas, licked them, sucked them, tweaked them, basically pleasured them.

You lifted your hand from the little arm rest and put your index finger where your breast is, although, you didn't put your hand under your shirt, but above it.

Your shirt was blocking your finger from rubbing your areola, but whatevs.

In a circle, you ran your index finger over your areola over and over again, over your clothed nipple.

Holy fucking shit, this feels so good. So good. So good, you want Hunter to do this to you.

Or should he be called Paul?

Whatever.

Hunter was sitting right next to you, minding his own business, not really doing much surprisingly, and thank God he was awake.

You craned your neck into Hunter's ear and whispered "Hunter?".

Your hand tapped his upper arm a few times.

He suddenly turned his head towards you, looking at you.

"What?" he asked.

You then craned your neck closer into his ear, moving some of his hair out of the way so you could whisper into his ear.

Oh God, does she want to fuck me on the tourbus again? he thought.

The two of you have fucked on the tour bus a few times, amongst other places.

"I want you to rub my areola with your index finger around in a circle" you whispered. "Over my T-shirt, as in...your index finger runs in a circle over and over above my areola, although, my T-shirt is blocking my areola. Do you get that?"

His eyes grew wide in shock and surprise.

Though, considering the two of you have fucked on the tour bus and even in a few public places a few times, he wasn't really all that surprised.

And God, you hope the man driving your bus doesn't hear what you're whispering, though, Hunter has fucked you while you sat in his lap while the bus driver was driving!

"I get it" Hunter whispered.

"Should I sit in your lap?" you asked him. "Or should I sit here?"

"Do whatever you want" he responded, trying to sound hushed.

"You want me to caress this nipple?" Hunter asked, pointing to your right one.

"Yeah" you responded, nodding your head.

Hunter lifted his hand off of the arm rest and scrunched all of his fingers into the palm of his hand, except for one pointing straight, his index finger, like E.T.

He moved his index finger towards the middle of your right breast, where he thought your nipple was, and landed his index finger there.

"Am I touching your nipple?" he asked.

"Yeah" you replied.

You lifted your hand and scrunched your fingers into your palm, except for one finger, your index finger, and moved your index finger to your left breast, where your hand and finger were hovering over your left areola.

Although, it's too bad your T-shirt was blocking your areola from being touched, but it can still feel good even if clothing is covering your nipple.

Hunter began running circles around with his index finger over your clothed areola, whereas you did the same thing over your other areola.

You tilted your head back on your seat's headrest.

Even though this felt really good for you to rub your nipple and have someone else rub your areola, it doesn't feel quite good enough to moan out some orgasms.

Hunter decided to spice things up.

"Am I making you feel good, darling?" he purred, looking at you.

"Yeah" you said, quietly and breathlessly. "Did you call me 'darling' because you're trying to stay in your Hunter Hearst Helmsley character?"

"Yes, indeed, lovely" he replied.

You liked that. A lot.

While you don't mind him being a modern man, 1800's gentlemen are just so classy and charming.

Although, what he'd become 2 years later in the WWF would probably make 1995 Hunter Hearst Helmsley upset. You know what I'm talking about.

And you decided you wanted to spice things up too.

You then unbent your middle and ring finger from the palm of your hand and moved your hand over your areola, the one you were drawing a circle around.

With 3 fingers attached to each other closely and not in open spaces, you rubbed those 3 fingers up and down your clothed areola, your nipple being blocked by a T-shirt.

Your areola was very sensitive, more sensitive than your clitoris, and it had this little tingling feeling.

Hunter noticed you rubbing 3 fingers up and down your areola.

"Why are you rubbing 3 fingers instead of one?" he asked.

"It feels really good" you responded. "You wanna rub 3 fingers over my tits?"

God, you hope the bus driver doesn't hear the two of yours conversation.

But, anything to please a lady, since Hunter was such a gentleman who wooed ladies.

Like you did, he straightened his middle and ring fingers out of his palm and let his index, middle and ring fingers touch one another.

He then began rubbing those 3 fingers up and down your areola, causing friction on your nipple.

That nipple he was rubbing was very sensitive too.

"Y'wanna sit in my lap?" he purred, trying to sound sexy.

Oh boy, what to do, what to do...

Even though this could make things sexier and intense, your bus driver is in front of the two of you, not directly right in front of you, but in front of you nonetheless and could see what's going on.

"I'm worried about the bus driver" you whispered to him. "I'm worried he'll see us".

"Even though I fucked you on this bus while the driver was driving?" Hunter whispered. "You were bouncing up and down my dick, remember that?"

"Of course, and the driver noticed" you said. "He didn't mind it".

"So why would you be worried?" Hunter asked.

You shrugged your shoulders.

"Do you want to continue or not?" Hunter asked.

You had no idea what to say.

Actually, you did.

"Y'know, even though touching my nipples feels really good" you said. "I don't really want to cum or anything".

Hunter shrugged his shoulders and rolled his eyes.

"So you want me to still rub your nipples or not?" Hunter asked.

You made your mind up.

You then hopped out of your seat and plopped your ass on Hunter's lap, your back facing his chest, sitting like Jennifer Aniston in this gifs:

His cock immediately had blood rushing towards it, making his cock stand up straight.

You could feel his erection, though it wouldn't get in your pussy since his shorts are blocking his erection.

Hunter wasn't expecting you to sit on his lap.

"I thought you didn't want to sit in my lap?" he asked.

"I made up my mind" you fired back at him, although you tried not to sound angry when you said that back at him.

Hunter also had an idea with him.

"Hey" he said, whispering it in your ear "Want me to rub both fingers over your nipples?"

"Fuck yeah" you responded.

He's hotter than the month he was born in and you want him to do this to you.

Hunter grinned back, loving your motivation.

You weren't really paying attention to what was outside the tourbus.

God, hopefully the bus doesn't run out of gas, though maybe that's a good thing.

But what happens if we'll be at the arena Hunter will perform in?

You turned your head and looked out the window.

Some houses, some restaurants, the same usual bullshit.

Thank God.

With your head looking now at the seat in front of you, you couldn't wait for Hunter to rub both of your nips.

Hunter then put his hands over your T-shirt, over your clothed breasts, and rubbed his index, middle and ring fingers up and down your nipples, like a painter painting a picket fence.

It felt even better having someone's fingers rubbing up and down your clothed nipples than around in a circle.

"Am I touching your nipples?" Hunter asked, you felt his breath in your ear.

"Yes you are!" you replied, smiling.

"Am I making you feel good, princess?" he purred in your ear, his breath and his voice in your ear, even some of his breath on the back of your neck.

"You are, baby" you replied.

Even though this felt really good, this doesn't feel so good enough to have an orgasm over.

#hunter hearst helmsley #90s #1996 #wwf #hunter hearst helmsley x fem reader #fanfiction

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whereshiphappens · 6 years

Note

87 or 75 + lashton 😬

Lashton (5sos) + 75. “I’m going for a swim. Do you wanna join me?”

Canon Universe (lmao again, funny), sometime during their time off this year.

~1.6k words

A/N: i fucking love and i fucking missed Lashton so very much wow. thanks, i hope you like this!!!!

Luke has his eyes closed. His head is turned to the side, angled to the sun and his foot is bent at the knee, placed on the beach chair. He’s got his arms stretched up around the small headrest and reclined like this, it almost looks like he’s sleeping.

He’s not, though, Ashton knows that he’s not, because he’s been looking for a while now from his own chair by the pool, and from time to time Luke opens his eyes, moves around all lazy and settles again. There’s still glitter in his eyelids, is the thing, and it keeps catching Ashton’s attention that’s all.

Whatever little pieces resisted the makeup remover are now gathered more to the outer corner of his right eye, like Luke’s been rubbing his eyes and that’s where the glitter got dragged to. There’s some on his cheekbones too that Ashton notices when Luke moves, and the pink nuances of it fit the pink on his cheeks just about perfectly and Ashton is reminded of how good that glitter looks on his lids and how it seems to make Luke’s mouth pinker. Like a doll.

Ashton frowns, makes himself stop looking and shakes his head as he stares ahead at the blue undisturbed water of the pool.

Sometimes his minds goes to weird places. That’s a given, he knows that very well; but recently it has gotten worse and very Luke related. Still frowning, he glances at the younger boy again - Luke’s different. Well. They all are, but Luke especially, he thinks.

Maybe it was since he became single again. Maybe it was after getting all that new music out, maybe it came with a liberating feeling that translated into Luke’s attitude. Maybe it was after Luke started singing without his guitar, or maybe it’s his new clothes and hair. Ashton’s not sure about which, maybe it’s even a combination of them all, but the fact is, Luke is different.

He carries himself differently and Ashton notices. They’re not kids anymore.

But then, from time to time when Luke wears that pink glitter, it somehow takes Ashton back and he’s staring at this kid with big eyes and young face, quiffed hair, a lip ring and misfits tank top. He stares at this kid who used to stare back at him telling him something with his eyes that Ashton wouldn’t allow himself to read into.

That was a long time ago and they were just kids. However way Luke used to look at Ashton, it’s over now because they grew up. It’s a good thing Ashton always refused to acknowledge it, they never spoke of it and whatever it was it faded away and nothing happened.

Once again Ashton tears his eyes from Luke and stares down at his own hands instead.

Well, nothing is kinda relative. There were moments in which the air shifted around them, moments when it only took one small step, one small gesture and suddenly the platonic situation they were in wasn’t that platonic anymore. When a hug took too long, when a stare got too intense, when a conversation deviated to dangerous topics, when getting undressed was a test on their self control to not look, when an innocent touch felt heavy on the skin, when sharing a room made heartbeats rise.

But in all of those, no further step was taken and whatever that was, was gone.

Except in times like these, when suddenly Ashton can’t tear his eyes away - he looks over at Luke again - and his mind goes to this weird place that conjures all sorts of images of what could’ve happened in every single one of those moments. And with his eyes dragging down to Luke’s chest and his tummy he gets this little heat of excitement deep in his gut that throws a wild what if…? into his brain.

His mouth goes dry a little, and he licks his lips, before bringing his eyes back to Luke’s face.

Ashton’s heart skips a beat when he notices Luke’s eyes are open and looking right at him. Shit.

Luke’s expression doesn’t change from this stoic, calm one and he keeps looking at Ashton. The older boy curses himself internally dragging his eyes away - he’s pretty sure it’s not the first time Luke has noticed Ashton looking at him funny lately either. Fuck.

There’s movement and Ashton does not move to look over, until he notices that Luke is saying something, or, more accurately, mumbling almost. “What?” Ashton asks, looking over to find Luke standing up. His lips move with amusement, but the smile is practically unnoticeable.

“I said,” Luke repeats, “I’m going for a swim.” He stops and turns his head to the side, “Do you wanna join me?” He speaks softly, slowly and looks at Ashton waiting for his response.

Ashton blinks a couple times. What the hell, the cool water might just do him some good. Maybe all of this is because of the heat, now that he thinks of it.

He doesn’t answer but stands up, ready to follow Luke towards the pool.

Diving into the water feels like pausing his thoughts for a few seconds - the muffled sounds underwater take over his senses and there’s a form of relief that makes him want to stay underwater forever. Unfortunately, breathing can’t be done like this.

As he resurfaces Luke is a few feet away, hand running through his wet curls to pull them back from his face and he looks at Ashton. It’s the way that he’s looking at Ashton that makes that heat flare up in his gut when he recognises it. The silence between them doesn’t help the slightest bit in taking a bit of the intensity of whatever this is away.

“Luke,” Ashton finds himself uttering, with a warning tone to it that shatters any try at ignoring what’s going on between them now. Luke moves towards Ashton, the water hitting the base of his throat as he steps closer slowly.

“What?” Luke asks, almost innocently, even though his eyes say something completely different. He looks over at the glass door and up at the balcony to make sure no one is there and once again, something in Ashton’s gut twists as he just knows what Luke is planning on doing next.

“Luke,” he calls again, in that same warning tone, except more alarmed this time. Mostly because whatever Luke’s about to do, Ashton knows he wants it as well. And he’s sure if he should.

“What?” Luke repeats, somehow amused, not stopping. Ashton finds his back hitting against the pool wall as Luke stops just at the edge of his personal space. He looks up at the younger boy’s blue eyes filled with a confidence and a certainty in his actions that wasn’t there all those years before. He inclines his head just a little, making that little bit of glitter sparkle in the sun and Ashton can’t look away. Luke isn’t backing away - not when Ashton’s sure that it’s written all over his face how much he wants this as well. It’s a sick curiosity that just won’t go away, especially not now.

“This is a stupid idea,” Ashton whispers as Luke steps even closer, feels his chest almost touching Luke’s. They’re way past lip rings and bandannas. They’re adults now. They’re adults now, Ashton repeats in his mind. Adults who know what they want - and still they want this.

With his head inclined to the side, Luke’s eyes drop to Ashton’s mouth and he’s smiling. He nods making his nose bump into Ashton’s, “yeah” he agrees.

He feels Luke’s breath on his skin, feels it warm and sweet getting closer until all he feels is the pressure of Luke’s lips on his. It’s light the first few seconds, but then he hears Luke inhaling through his nose and suddenly there’s a hand gripping his wet hair at the back of his head and Luke uses it to turn his head, chest fully pressed against Ashton’s. He opens his mouth and licks Ashton’s lips until they ply open and Luke can dive into his mouth, not losing a single second.

Ashton feels a little dizzy, and the hands Luke has all over his body do nothing to steady him. Luke’s leg comes to fit in between Ashton’s tights and it’s too much for a moment. Ashton pushes at Luke’s shoulders to break the kiss and fucking breathe.

“Holy fuck,” he gasps, letting his forehead rest against Luke’s cheek. The younger boy laughs lowly and he starts moving his leg rubbing against Ashton’s crotch, “fuck,” Ashton lets out. He grabs at Luke’s forearms like he needs it to stay above water and his mouth falls open as Luke’s hand grip the side of the pool, caging Ashton in and moving more eagerly.

Ashton can feel himself hardening, the heat rising from his gut up his spine and making it so hard to breathe, “Luke, oh my god,” he moans, his voice rising in pitch and his breathing becoming erratic - he’s gonna come if Luke keeps this up.

Feeling Luke’s ragged breath next to his ears doesn’t help in the slightest and he closes his eyes, hard, concentrating on not losing control.

Suddenly, the noise of a door closing rather hard is heard coming from inside the house and Luke stops. He pulls away from Ashton for just a second and Ashton is so glad that he still had that mental capacity because he certainly doesn’t.

Voices are heard, “Fuck,” Luke curses and turns to look at Ashton who looks back with wide eyes. Someone just got home. Luke bites his lip, kisses Ashton on the lips one last time, saying “to be continued,” as he moves to get out of the pool, wrapping a towel around his waist the precise moment Calum slides the glass door to say hi.

Ashton is frozen in place, feeling overwhelmed, dumbfounded and incredibly, incredibly frustrated with his band mates’ timing.

For fuck’s sake. He takes another dive into the cool water. Not that it would help - this, turns out, has nothing to do with the heat.

#lashton #~drabble #this brings back feels ya know #Anonymous

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donutpwns · 7 years

Text

Journey to the Roots - Part 2

Part 1 - Part 3

How did he get himself mixed up in shit like this?

The thought was playing on repeat in his brain as he drove, sparing the occasional glance at the kid in his backseat. She’d shoved most of the trash back there to the floor to make herself more at home and, after a half day of driving and a brief pit stop for her to barf up what had to be a metric fuckton of glitter and what she claimed was the remains of ‘Stancakes’, had settled herself to sleep. Stan found himself feeling slightly bad at the sight of her curled up under the thin, hole-infested excuse for a blanket he used when he had to sleep in his car, which was more oft than not these days. He had learned to ignore how crappy it was given he basically lived in his jacket, but maybe he should think about investing in a new one.

Damn, he really was going soft.

With a sigh, he rests his cheek on his fist, elbow poking out the open window while he drives one handed and enjoys the crisp November air. It’s getting colder and colder the further north they get; he hopes the kid’s sweater is warm enough for snow given the increasing amount of slush he’s been seeing on the highway for the last six hours. Maybe he should liberate her a jacket from a store with lax security before they get there. Probably about time for him to liberate himself a new jacket too.

He can’t stop thinking about what the girl said about being his niece from the future. About Ford. About the photo of the two of them at boxing practice, his arm slung around his nerdy brother and grinning like the dope he was, that had gone into his wallet the moment he could slip it in without the kid noticing. He wasn’t sure if he believed her about everything, but he couldn’t let go of the nagging idea that if Ford was in trouble, he couldn’t just leave him. Stan still had a lot of mixed up feelings about his brother, about what had went down nearly ten years ago, but he was still family. If there was a chance that he was in trouble and Stan could help, he had to do it, right? Even if there was a large chance that Ford would just give him the boot the moment he saw him. Hell, at least he’d be in a new state then, and if Ford wasn’t in trouble, he was still probably better equipped to deal with the kid.

She’d kept talking about someone named Bill, someone that had tricked Ford and put him in danger. A half-ass conman from the sounds of it, and Stan knew a thing or two about half-ass cons. Stan could believe that Ford had been tricked; his brother might be a genius but he was dumber than even Stan when it came to people. Ford liked to think his six fingers was the whole reason he’d never made many friends when they were kids, and Stan had been fine letting him believe it, but his inability to talk to people was at least a partial factor. If he wasn’t unintentionally talking down to people, then he was believing any lie said at least halfway convincingly.

“Yoooounkle Staaaan…” the kid is yawning from the backseat, sitting up and rubbing at her eye. He’s not sure how he feels about that name, but he figures there’s no point in arguing with her about it. It’s not like it really bothers him the way being called Lee bothers him these days, that hitting too close to home, so he’d rather save his energy.

He has to actively focus on not crashing the car into the guardrail of the highway when she starts climbing over the middle console to sit in the front seat. He bites back a swear as a driver in the lane next to him honks when he cuts into the other lane before jerking the car back in line. “Geez, kid, you couldn’t stay in the back until we stop?”

“Nope! Bwop!” she drops herself into the front seat with zero grace and tugs the seatbelt around her. Stan doesn’t know how good a seatbelt works when someone is sitting cross-legged but he chooses not to comment. Safe enough for a petty cop to not pull them over, at least. Probably. He hopes. She’s brought the blanket up front with her and uses it to cover her lap before patting her stomach. “Younkle Stan, I’m hungry and you’re all out of surprise tacos.”

Right, kids needed to eat. Stan himself could do with some food as well; the kid had eaten the last of his food supply when she’d eaten the days old taco. Now that he thought about it, that might’ve had a good deal with why she barfed. Well, he needed to get them each a jacket, might as well get them some food as well. He sees the sign showing the next exit, hopefully they can find a good super store to ‘shop’ at there. “So, kid, what do you know about shoplifting?”

Mabel flashes him a metal filled grin as she shoves her sleeves up. “Nothing bigger than your sleeve! That stuff is for night theft. Also, always have a smoke bomb ready in case you get caught.”

Shit, they were related. And Stan had apparently taught her well in the future. Good job, future Stan. Stan sends a grin right back at her. “That's right, sweetheart. So, you think you're ready to be my partner in crime?” he winces when she lets out a squeal so high pitched he's pretty sure it could break a window. “Holy sh-iny new shoes! You're like a dog whistle turned human!”

Mabel’s practically vibrating in her seat. “I get to do crime with my Younkle Stan~ oh, but we can only steal things we need. Okay? Cause that way it's hafta-crime, not fun-crime. Though hafta can be fun...hmm…”

Stan takes the exit while she debates her morals, looking for the first gas station he sees. There he's able to get directions to the nearest super store, as well as the wallet of a guy too focused on a thing of rotating hot dogs to notice Stan slipping it out of his back pocket. Sucker. Stan uses the money in it to pay for his gas. How's that for a fun hafta?

Mabel has managed to flip herself in the seat, socked feet against the headrest. Stan glances to make sure her shoes are in the floorboards; they are. Stealing shoes could be a real pain so he'd rather avoid it, given they needed to get jackets and food. He takes the time to flick her forehead before moving around to climb back into the driver’s seat. “Sit up and buckle up, kid. Last thing we need is getting pulled over on our way to commit crime.” He says his usual silent ‘please start’ prayer as he turns the key and thankfully it only stalls for a second before the engine is turning over. One of these days he’s going to have to take the Stanleymobile to an actual mechanic and not just a chop shop that he’s managed to temporarily be in good standing with.

The moment they’re in the parking lot, Mabel’s got her hand in his, grinning when he shoots her a look. Her hand is so small in his, soft except for a strip of callus that goes across the inside of her fingers. He tries to ignore the squirming in his feeling in his gut that drives him to give her hand a small squeeze back as they walk in. He was going so soft.

The jackets are simple enough; Mabel picks a neon pink thing filled with feathers that poke out once Stan has removed the little anti-theft tag with the help of a pocket knife while pretending to check the size tag. He rips the plastic price tag off the sleeve and gives the girl a little sleight of hand show of making it disappear that has her staring wide eyed. For himself he finds a simple dark red zip up not dissimilar to his usual one that he left in the car. A twirl of the knife and he’s got two anti-theft tags now which he slips into the pocket of a jacket still on the rack along with the price tags.

“Now we just need some food and we’ll be good to go.” He fiddles with the zipper of his new jacket, scratching with his nail until a bit of the paint on it chips away. “What do kids in your time eat?”

“Sugar!” she yells it loud enough to earn them some turned heads, which Stan just flashes his best salesman smile at. She leaps up to latch herself to his arm, forcing him to lean sideways so she’s still touching the floor. This kid’ll be the death of him. “Younkle Stan! Younkle Stan! Can we have ice cream for dinner? Grunkle Ford always gets a wrinkly nose when we do it at home, not that that stops us, but he’s not here so that means judgment free ice cream! And ice cream always tastes better without judgment!”

Stan basically scrapes her off of his arm, frowning. Well, he certainly liked ice cream for dinner, but that wasn’t exactly something they could do in the car. “How about we stick with something that won’t melt once I turn the heat on. We need, like, dry food. Non-perishables.” Stan was an expert of living out of his car at this point, and that included grocery shopping.

She pouts but doesn’t really argue. He thinks she’s going to just follow along and he’s contemplating how many boxes of crackers the two of them can fit in their jackets when she lets out another loud squeal. Moses, he was going to need a hearing aid by the time he was done with her. “Flapjacks, kid, what the hell?”

“I just remembered something we really, really need to get! I’ll be right back!” before he can protest, she’s gone. How a kid running on days old taco could have so much energy he has no damn idea.

Well, while she’s gone.

He gets three boxes of crackers in the back of his jacket, trapped when he zips up the front. Two loose cans taken from a six pack of Pitt Cola fit into his hood without looking funny. In his sleeves he manages to fit six cheese stick snack packs, two packs gummy fish, a package of toffee peanuts, a tangerine, and a plastic wrapped beget that snaps in half when he bends his arm. Finally he finds himself in the ice cream aisle, glaring a challenge at individually wrapped fudgecicles.

Kids liked fudgecicles, right? It was chocolate and Mabel didn’t really strike him as a kid that was picky when it came to sweets. Hm. Maybe he could just…he opens the freezer door to grab a package.

“CHEESE IT, YOUNKLE STAN!” she’s screaming as she comes barreling down the aisle. Her new jacket is bulging with who-knows-what and there’s an overweight security guard hot on her heels. Stan has approximately half a second to process the situation before she’s running past him. He swears, stuffs the fudge bar in his pocket with one hand, and takes off after her himself.

Thankfully, his legs are much longer than hers so he catches up in five strides, even with her manic speed. He grabs her under the arms and hefts her up. Without breaking his speed, he tucks her under one arm like a football. Then he’s dodging shoppers, knocking over a display of cereal boxes in the process. “I thought you said you were good at this?!” he barks at her as he makes a beeline towards the exit and, beyond that, the parking lot.

“I’m good at everything!” her legs give a kick. “Oh! I know what I forgot!” she wiggles a bit in his hold, reaching into the front of her overloaded jacket. He doesn’t see what it is, but he feels the motion of her winding up her arm. “MABLE BOMB! BWOMP!”

Behind him, he hears a scream followed by frantic coughing and the sound of someone falling. He chances a look back; the laugh is out before he can even think about it. The guard is on the ground, frantically trying to scrape bright blue glitter off his face. It’s not a smoke bomb but it’ll do. A nice personal touch to the crime. Stan finds himself feeling oddly proud.

He throws Mabel feet first into the front seat and slams the door behind her. He slides across the hood of the car, Dukes style, and maybe he’s actively trying to look cool because his heart swells when he hears the kid cheer from inside the car. This time the car starts on the first turn, no prayer needed, and the tires squeal on the wet asphalt as they tear out of the parking lot. He’s 80% sure no one was chasing them but Moses is his heart racing and his cheeks ache from grinning.

“Holy shit, kid! Did you seriously throw glitter at that guy?” he’s laughing as he asks it, looking back and forth from her to the road as he tries to get them back to the highway. He’s got one hand on the steering wheel, the other emptying his sleeves and pockets of the food he’d gotten, tossing them to land on the floorboards in front of her seat. “What did you even steal?”

The girl’s hair is a mess, sticking in all directions and clinging to her cheeks. She’s got glitter all over her right hand and the front of her new jacket; that is never going to get out of his car, he can already tell. “I procured the most important stuff ever!” she unzips her jacket and a waterfall of yarn, and at least five jars of glitter, falls out. From one sleeve she produces two long, metal knitting needles, the other a cheap disposable camera. “Now I can make us sweaters and memories!”

Stan can’t believe this kid; he steals food and she steals craft supplies. He reaches over to muss her hair, “You stupid knucklehead.” He shakes his head, smile unwilling to fade. He fishes the fudgebar, now smooshed and half-melted, out of his pocket to drop it in her lap. “You’re not half-bad, sweetheart. That was the most fun hafta-crime I’ve had in a while.”

She just keeps grinning at him and his heart just keeps swelling.

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

Nearly twelve hours later, Ford can confirm that Dipper isn’t lying. He’s performed the possession detection ritual which revealed faint traces of Bill but nothing recent enough to have a current effect. He ran blood tests, both the standard DNA testing as well as the less standard hot coil test, which concluded that the boy was in fact related to him and not some sort of shape shifting thing. To be honest, he’d truly started believing that the kid was related to him as soon as he’d pulled out the needle to draw the blood. The boy had turned white as a sheet and Ford would swear the boy had tears in his eyes as he tried to play brave. It was so much like Stan when they were kids…

There was also the mark on the boy’s forehead; a mark of the peculiar. Ford had found himself tapping each of his fingers to his thumb while thinking about it. One-two-three-four-five. Repeat. The boy was fascinating. An anomaly in so many ways. Ford wished he had access to his second journal to compare his notes from the time anomaly from three years ago; oh what he wouldn’t give for the time measuring device him and Fiddleford had put together, but it had been dropped in the Bottomless Pit during their encounter with the Timeless MantaLemur. He’d had dived in after it if not for Fiddleford. Of all the things the Pit had decided to keep.

The boy was asleep now, nervous as that made Ford, clearly exhausted from the ordeal. Traveling through time was a lot to process, despite the boy’s claims of having done so before. Ford had many questions about this ‘time baby’ that Dipper spoke of but they would have to wait. All of the questions he had for Dipper would have to wait; questions about his experiences in Gravity Falls, about the Mabel he kept going on about, about why Stan had the two children.

It seemed almost like a sign, the boy appearing with knowledge of his brother when Ford has been debating reaching out to Stan for the near month since the Incident. A month since the photo of two foolish little boys standing with a broken down boat had gone from being hidden in his desk drawer to burning a hole in his wallet while he continually argued with himself the idea of reaching out to Stanley. The idea of having his brother take the journal and sail as far away as possible with it, of hiding it away where no one could find it. If Dipper knew Stan and Gravity Falls, did that mean he never reaches out to his brother to take the journal away? Or does he, and Stan fails to follow such a simple, important request? What effect will Dipper being here have on choices already made? Were they already living in a paradox or was everything happening as it was meant to? Had their timeline split into another one of a million possible versions of every moment? Oh how Ford wished he didn’t have to worry about Bill; a mystery like his time traveling great nephew was great enough to fuel his studies and work for years.

But he did have to worry about Bill and now a child on top of that. Dipper had said he’d faced off with Bill before, in his time, which means Ford had failed in that timeline to destroy the demonic triangle. It’s almost enough to make him feel like giving up, knowing that thirty years from now Bill will still be a menace to not just him but also his family. No, infinite timelines, infinite possibilities. So what if another version of himself had failed? That simply meant that this version of himself had to work harder than that version so that he could succeed. And wasn’t that an interesting thought; rivaling himself in work ethic and effort.

He’s not aware of the fact that he’s pacing until he’s drawn out of his thoughts by the sound of a door opening down the hall. He looks around; he seems to have made his way to the kitchen for some reason. He’s trying to puzzle out exactly why when Dipper comes in, wrapped in the blanket Ford had covered him with after he’d put him in the spare room to sleep. The couch in there was mostly free of the clutter that had taken over the rest of his house and, once he’d rolled up the electron carpet and stuffed it in the corner of the room, the room was safe enough for a child to sleep.

The boy had left the hat in the room apparently; Ford made a note to take a closer look at the thing later, the symbol on it has been nagging at his mind. Things for later. “Ah, Dipper, good to see you’re awake.” He grabs the boy’s chin to lift his face up, studying his eyes. No slits, no yellow. Good. Can’t be too careful. “I trust you, uh, slept well?”

Dipper nods, another yawn escaping him as he wraps the blanket a little tighter around him. Ford had placed a space heater in the room for Dipper to sleep, but the rest of his house was still pretty cold. It seems he had been neglecting his gas bill for some time. “Yeah. Uh, Great Uncle Ford? I’m…kinda hungry. Do you…have food?” he peers around Ford towards the sink.

Ford follows his stare to the dishes that fill his sink and cover every inch of the counter not taken up by more of his books. “Right. Food.” Now that he thinks about it, he’s not sure when the last time he had something in his stomach other than coffee and even that supply was beginning to run low. Fiddleford had handled the shopping once he’d showed up, same as when they’d been in college. He takes a few steps over to look in the fridge before quickly slamming it shut again. He’s pretty sure there wasn’t that much green or fuzz last time he checked. “I…may be running low on certain supplies.”

To his surprise, Dipper laughs. He gives the boy a bemused smile; what was funny about this situation? Dipper’s cheeks go ruddy when he seems to realize he was laughing and he clears his throat. “S-sorry. Just remembering something Grunkle Stan—it doesn’t matter. I’m not that hungry, we can get food later.” Then he looks up at Ford and Ford would swear that there were actual stars in the boy’s eyes. It makes him a little uncomfortable the number of times he’s caught Dipper looking at him like that, like he’s the boy’s hero. “So, what’s the plan, Great Uncle Ford? I have lots of theories about how I got here and what we can do to get me back home. I’m sure if we both work together—”

“Whoa, easy there, boy.” He holds up a hand to silence the boy. He takes a moment to consider the last twelve hours. The tests, the questions, the sound of Dipper retching in the bathroom after the blood test. Ford has to check his watch; it’s approaching five in the morning. Dipper had mentioned eating breakfast before he was sent back in time and though it was clear that he didn’t come through at an equal time of day, it had still had been too many hours since he’d eaten. As eager as he is to get back to work, he was still responsible for the boy. He remembers how much he’d witnessed Fiddleford’s son put away the weekend he’d come to visit and Fiddleford had insisted Ford meet his family. Growing boy and all that nonsense. “Let’s get something in you before I get to work on fixing things.”

Dipper’s entire form seems to deflate, disappointment marring his face.

Ford clears his throat, scratching at the back of his neck. “And, uh, you can help me? You said you were studying my work in the future, right?”

“Oh, yes! I’ve read the third journal front to back a gazillion times! And the other two, but I haven’t got to read them as much since you didn’t—well, after the unicorn thing you let Mabel and me see them but we were working on the barrier and so I didn’t have that much time to read them more than four times each so—”

“Unicorns? Wait, you guys were able to get the unicorn hair for the barrier?” Ford is sincerely impressed. Dealing with unicorns was one of the most frustrating things he’d had to do since he came to Gravity Falls. He still remembers the echoing voice NOT PURE OF HEEEEEEAAAAART before he was booted out of the clearing with his boots in hand.

Dipper’s face splits into a wide grin, “Oh, yeah! Well, Mabel did.” He smacks his open palm with a fist. “Hair, blood, eyelashes; she even got a load of treasure for Grunkle Stan.”

Treasure hunting! He can still hear the chant of excited little boys, skin made bright red by the sun. It brings a small smile to his face to think that they got some treasure in the end. Then he remembers it's Stan they're talking about and the smile curdles. The boy is bringing out the nostalgic in him which is counter productive to what needs to be done.

“Well, it's good to know you children are safe in the future, and capable it seems. Now, since I seem to be rather…low on supplies, what say you and I take a very quick trip into town to restock?” that wouldn't be too hard; he could just give Dipper the money and wait in the car. The idea of being around people had his fingers tapping and his brain itching. But he had an assistant again! Someone else to handle all the prickly social situations life seemed to demand as well as assist in research. The boy still made him nervous, Ford wouldn't stop checking his eyes for a good while, but if he was forced to be responsible for him and the boy was eager to be of assistance then he might as well get some use out of the boy.

Dipper nodded happily; just as Ford thought, happy to help. “Of course! Oh, we could go to the diner! Wait, is the diner open? I don't know how long it's been a thing…”

“I...don’t know.” was there a diner in town? Maybe, Ford wasn't sure. He remembered the pizza place where Tate had eaten two large Supremes without pausing for breath. It still rankled him that Fiddleford had refused to let him study the child as an anomaly. He swore he had more stomachs than the mutated cow in his book. “I was thinking we could just run to the grocery store?”

“Yes! Then we can get back to work quicker!” Dipper grins but it falters a second later. He clears his throat and averts his eyes. “Do you, uh…wanna get ready before we go?” his face is pinched with nerves. “...maybe shower?” he says it in such a small voice that Ford almost doesn't hear it.

But he does and it has blood filling his face and heating his neck. When was the last time he'd showered? Now that he's thinking about it, he can practically feel the filth sticking to his skin. A touch to his cheek feels like he's a few days from an actual beard and he could likely fill a lamp with the oil in his hair. Okay. He was completely disgusting.

Twenty minutes and one cold shower later, Ford is much less gross as they make their way to the car. He’ll admit that the water felt nice on his lingering bruises as well. Dipper has been draped in one of Ford's old sweaters from college and, while smaller in the shoulders and chest than what Ford wears now, still hangs to the boy's knees and the sleeves have to be folded several times before it stops at his hands. He's still got the blanket around him as well. Ford will need to see about getting him some pants; those shorts were not good for this snow.

The drive to town is slow but uneventful. Once they reach the town, Dipper is basically rotating in his seat trying to look at everything, muttering about things that have changed and what has not. Ford finds it easy enough to ignore.

He starts to give Dipper his wallet before remembering the photo and instead giving him a handful of bills from inside. He watches the boy produce a notebook and pen from...somewhere. Huh. They go over the few essentials they need: milk, bread, maybe eggs for protein. Then Dipper is running into the store and Ford is once more alone with his thoughts.

It’s harder to block out the whispers without anything to focus on, so he tries to force himself to run through the Kaplansky’s conjecture, trying to find the flaw in why it hasn’t been solved. Chasing down numbers in his head as opposed to thoughts of emotions or certain geometrical shapes helps calm his anxiety with being out of his house. He was just a guy sitting in his car outside of the grocery store. No one was going to spare him a second glance, no one knew who he was. Numbers, numbers, numbers.

He’s so engrossed in the numbers and not thinking about triangles or eyes on him, that he fails to notice the two figures approaching his car until one taps on his window, startling a yelp out of him and having him reach for the knife he has stashed under the driver’s seat. Then he sees who it is and his eyes narrow. It takes a moment for him to crank the window down. “Dipper, why did you bring him here?”

Dipper looks nervous again, but Fiddleford just looks annoyed despite the obvious tremble in his hands and jaw that Ford suspects isn’t all to do with the cold. “Nice to see you too, Stanford.”

\lsdqformat1 \��*<

#this is also on ao3 if anyone prefers to read it there #gravity falls #mabel pines #dipper pines #stanley pines #stanford pines #journey to the roots #kainichivonwrites

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cupnoodle-queen · 7 years

Text

CHASING SUNS: Chapter 10 Hell Spawn

1,935 words

Tagging my bae’s @blindbae, @nifwrites, @themissimmortal <3

Cindy turned up first thing as promised and had the truck in working condition by ten. The bill was hefty, but she graciously accepted two hundred gil and an I-owe-you. Back in business, the group of four departed Lestallum, en route to HQ.

Greyson had just eased off the gas, heading into the winding turns before the tunnel when they saw it.

Or at least it’s silhouette in the mist, which in comparison seemed all the more frightening.

A colossal, quadruped beast prowled along the outskirts of the forest treeline, two impressive horns protruding from its corrupt, catlike head. Fangs the size of full-grown men glinted in the truck’s headlights. Incandescent yellow eyes glowed faintly in the darkness.

“Behemoth.”

Gladio answered Cam’s question before she asked it. “But that, is not normal sized.”

“W-what the damn hell?!” Prompto cried and whipped his head around the driver’s side headrest, lilac eyes like saucers. “Holy crap, that thing is massive!”

“They aren’t normally that big?” Cam asked, unable to take her eyes off the monster. She’d heard multiple accounts of them before from both Nolan and other hunters, but had never seen a live one before now.

Greyson came to a crawling speed to get a better look. “Fuck...Gotta be what, double-no, triple the size of a normal one?”

“‘Bout that,” Gladio was affixed to it, lips parted in awe. “Get the Marshal on the phone, things close enough to HQ for comfort.”

While Prompto dialed Cor, the truck curved around a turn that brought the vehicle closer to the beast. The ground shook with it’s steps. Cam gulped. Where the hell had it come from?

“Yeah, biggest one we’ve ever seen!” Prompto craned his head to the side to keep an eye on it. “...No even bigger than that one, that was a shrimp compared to-”

In a movement that sent shivers up their spines, the behemoth’s head snapped towards them. It crouched, licked its chops, then leaped in their direction.

“FUCK!” Cam and Gladio said in unison.

“Oh you’ve got to be KIDDING ME,” Greyson cried flooring the accelerator, the tires screeching against the pavement as the truck jarred forward, gaining momentum at a much slower pace than they’d wished for. “She can’t take this kinda stress, full load and all these RPMS? Gonna blow the engine!”

The behemoth was almost in full gallop, eyes locked on it’s target, trees swaying at the tremors, its giant paws raking up patches of dead turf and sod.

“We don’t have a choice!” Cam tried to keep her voice normal but the anxiousness in her tone was apparent. “At least make it to the tunnel, I don’t think it will fit through…”

Gladio grabbed the phone from Prompto, who’d gone silent from shock. “Marshal, we got a problem. Thing’s on our tails,” he paused to grab the frame of the truck, Greyson careening it around a turn so fast the passenger’s side front tire left pavement, “might follow us back to HQ, let the others know we’re gonna need backup and a fuckton of firepower.”

He waited for Cor’s response, gave an “Okay,” and hung up. “They’re readying for a fight. Spearguns are being pulled from storage.”

“Christ,” Greyson coughed. “Okay! There’s the tunnel. Almost there-”

The engine went dead, an empty whirring sound as the rotations slowed.

“NO NO NO NO DAMMIT FUCK-” He cranked the ignition but only the strained torquing sound whined through. The truck was slowing down, the pounding of the ground getting more violent by the second.

Cam had her hand on the door handle, stuck trying to decide whether or not to abandon ship when Gladio grabbed her arm. “Don’t even think about it,” He growled. “You jump out that thing will trample you. At least in here you have a chance.”

Her hand fell from the latch, her savior spoken. Words unsaid seemed to transmit between them, Gladio’s hand still holding onto her arm, his expression a combination of fear and uncertainty. The windshield and windows of the truck vibrated from the behemoth’s canter, the truck coasting along at a gradually reducing speed. The tunnel was straight ahead. They may make it, with a little luck…

Instead of attacking the vehicle, the behemoth did something entirely unexpected. Mere yards from the back hatch, it leaped through the air up and over the truck all together, landing on top of the tunnel above.

The ground shook hard from the impact, the truck still puttering along, Greyson pumping the gas and turning the key over and over. Eventually nothing would give and it rolled to a complete stop, several dozen feet into the tunnel.

The headlights died and the four of them delved into complete darkness.

Above them the tunnel rocked from the behemoth’s footsteps, bits of rock and debris from the walls raining down on the roof of the truck. Everyone exhaled a sigh of relief.

Greyson turned on his phone’s flashlight. “Gonna pop the hood, Cindy said this could happen and showed me a few tricks.”

He got out and rounded the front, the tremors dying down. “That thing’s heading straight for HQ…” Prompto trailed off,

Gladio pulled out his phone and made a call to the Marshal. “Got a problem. Thing’s definitely heading for HQ. It’s jumped the tunnel.”

It was so quiet Cam could hear Cor on the other end: “Where are you?”

“Stuck in the tunnel. Truck’s toast.”

“Let’s not say that just yet,” Greyson had hopped back in the driver’s seat, tried the ignition, nothing. Tried a second time and the truck groaned and heaved, before finally revving up and the engine was back to life. “Alright, good to go,” he announced, flinging his seatbelt on.

“Damn Greyson, got the magic touch man,” Prompto cheered, buckling in as well. The truck took off as fast as Greyson could get the engine to perform, thankfully passing the strongest rumbles from overhead. The behemoth was behind them, and it seemed to have slowed down, perhaps uncertain what to do next. Either that, or it was waiting for them to reappear.

The light at the end of the tunnel started to grey out the darkness, and when they pulled up into the entrance of the headquarters Cam gasped.

Six giant spearguns, each the size of railcars with three on each side of the road were rolled up on carts that looked almost medieval in construction. They were angled up towards the spaces in between the rock shelf above, poised to deal death from below. “Cor doesn’t fuck around when shit hits the fan, does he?” Cam muttered, already unbuckling.

Greyson pulled the truck behind the armory and the four of them got out, joining the group of hunters near the spearguns. Dave was assigning people to man them while another group was getting the rundown on how to reload it. Cor greeted the group as they approached. “One of the snipers spotted it, approximately a mile away give or take.”

“Can we take it out with just these?” Greyson motioned to the weapons craning overhead.

The Marshal frowned. “Hard to say, a behemoth this size hasn’t been on record yet.” He crossed his arms. “Just have to give it what we can, no room for error. If you have the opportunity to strike, seize it.”

“Got it,” Gladio nodded, before turning to Cam. “Let’s keep off-”

Steph slammed into Gladio from behind, her ivory arms attempting to wrap around his bulky form. “Gladdy, where the hell have you been?”

Cam backed away, her soulmate marking almost repelling from the red haired vixen. Steph threw her a look of contempt, her icy eyes narrowing. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

Cam smirked. “Right here.”

Gladio was thankful Steph couldn’t see the massive grin that pulled his lips at her response. “We had to stay at the Leville, truck broke down.”

“You could’ve texted me at least.” Again her eyes shot towards Cam. “I was...worried.”

Gladio shrugged out of her hold, sighing. “Look, we’ll talk about it later, now’s definitely not the time-”

On que, the ground shook below their feet. The hunters manning the spearguns tensed, lining up the weapons in anticipation.

“Fine, whatever.” Steph blew him off, stalking away to some place Cam could care less about. Though it did color her curious that Gladio hadn’t contacted her at all to tell her of their holdup…

Over a hand radio, someone buzzed through to Dave. “In our sights, four-hundred yards.” A pause, then: “It’s sprinting!”

The beast was heading for them, and fast. Cam and Gladio joined the front line, weapons at the ready. The ground made Cam’s knees jut and almost give out from underneath her, but she squatted slightly to counter the shakes. As the earth quaking grew stronger the racks of weapons at the nearby vendor toppled over, clanging loudly as they spilled. Overhead, the nearby rock shelf groaned, dust and pebbles falling free.

“THERE!” one of the gunners up top shouted, and everyone tensed. Then…

It slowed, taking calculated steps towards the edge of the tunnel roof. Cam could see the tips of its horns; goosebumps pocked her skin.

The moment she caught sight of its glowing yellow eyes, the Marshal gave the command; “Fire!”

Six torpedoing spears shot skywards, arcing perfectly over the crest of the tunnel and striking their mark, the behemoth recoiling and letting out a pained roar that popped Cam’s eardrums. The gunners up top fired automatic weapons at it, red dots blossoming on it’s musclebound flesh. The beast swiped at them, trying to reach them from their positions nearby.

The spearguns were locked and loaded for another round and they awaited Cor’s orders. A pause, then “Fire!”

The spears cut through the air with lethal grace, though one of them missed their target and veered off bouncing on the rock wall. The beast was staggering, but there was life still in its fierce eyes...

Cam had to take action; a surge of adrenaline at the sight of the beast’s blood fired her up. She sprinted towards the rock wall, uncertain if her idea would actually bear fruit, but then her hand caught a ledge that held her weight and right above it, another jagged piece for her to pull up onto.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Dave yelled.

Cam pulled up to another edge, her foot finding a landing, one after the other as if she were a born climber though she hadn’t scaled rock walls a moment in her life…

She made it three-quarters the way up when she caught sight of someone below her. Gladio. “You’re fucking insane, I hope you know that!” He yelled up at her, pulling himself up the shelf.

“You’re the one following me!” Cam shouted, just as her hands gripped the upper ledge, hoisting herself up and over.

The beast was at best twenty yards away from her. Cam held her breath, backing away from the ledge so Gladio could climb up. He summoned his greatsword, panting. “What kind of plan do you have in mind exactly?”

Cam unsheathed her swords. “We need to disable it. I’m thinking the eyes. If it can't see us, it’s as good as dead.”

Gladio scoffed at her. “How the hell are we going to pull that off?!”

The behemoth sniffed the air, it’s pained groans like thunder around them. Catching wind of something, it’s head snapped in their direction, the two of them in it’s sights, locked on. They would be an easy kill.

Cam stared back into the eyes of the beast.

“Watch me.”

TO BE CONTINUED

#chasing suns #chapter 10 #gladio x cam #gladio x female OC #gladio soulmate AU #ffxv fanfiction #ffxv #ffxv soulmate AU #gladiolus amicitia #gladio

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