#trying to shove each other down a flight of stairs. there was.

[brother-emperors]

SO this! is about this specific entry in Burchard's Diary--

The Diary of John Burchard, trans. A. H. Mathew

--and the APERITIO ORIS rite (the mouth thing they keep talking about), but it's also a little about Ascanio's friction with the Vatican and the della Rovere-Ascanio rivalry

Politics and Dynasty: Underaged Cardinals in the Catholic Church, Jennifer Mara DeSilva

Popes, Cardinals and War: The Military Church in Renaissance and Early Modern Europe, David Chambers

Ascanio Maria Sforza: la parabola politica di un cardinale-principe del Rinascimento, Marco Pellegrini

#ascanio sforza #giuliano della rovere #italian renaissance tag #the thing about long term rivals is eventually you know each other better than lovers ever could bc you've spent so much time #trying to shove each other down a flight of stairs. there was. #christ what was it. della rovere's price of reconcilliation with rodrigo was kicking ascanio out of the vatican. something like that #literally you could've asked for anything and you picked the head of ascanio sforza. that's commitment baby. #marriage vows have NOTHING on that. but ofc. they did reconcile. and della rovere did visit him daily to talk for that one summer #ALSO THE FUCKING FUNERARY MONUMENT DELLA ROVERE COMMISSIONED #WHAT'S WITH THE ROMANTIC NECROMANCY BUDDY. HELLO? HELLO. BANGING ON THE VATICAN DOORS. ANSWER ME!!!! #drawing tag

[aithusarosekiller]

10 year old black brothers trying to find new nicknames for each other and the second Sirius suggests 'Lulu' he gets shoved down a flight of stairs

#source: my sister when I said I was gonna start calling her Mattie instead of Tilly #bc it's short for Matilda!! #regulus black #sirius black #the black brothers #black brothers #marauders era

[zeltqz]

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 — 𝐫𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢

୨⎯ fem!reader. smut. minors do not interact. reader catches ran in the middle of it... and gets nervous. kissing, flirting. you don't give ran your name and hes annoyed lmao

I need to pee. 

You think, looking around the crowded room for any entrance to the bathroom. The only thing in your field of vision are horny couples sloppily making out with each other; or drunk strangers using alcohol as a gateway for their problems. 

It’s a horrible sight, and you really need to fucking pee. Your friend is outside by the pool, currently cradling her crush, Shion Madarame—an idiot, you think. He’s clueless, talks way too much for someone who can’t even back up what he’s saying half the time. 

You find a lone staircase and decide to walk upstairs, praying that there’s a goddamn bathroom there. This party stinks. The only reason you’re here is because you wanted to try something new and your friend needed backup in case things went south with Shion. 

There’s a couple signs that you shouldn’t have gone inside that bathroom. For one; you tripped on the staircase up, successfully snapping the leg on one of your heels. 

Annoyed, you take off both heels and hold them in your hand, walking the rest of the distance up the stairs. 

As if that sign wasn’t enough, the fucking moans echoing throughout the hallway managed to not reach your ears. Either you were too irritated to care, or you genuinely didn’t notice. 

It didn’t matter. Because you opened the door anyway. 

The sight was something. 

Something you’d only see in porn. 

A girl with brown hair, currently bent over the sink; obnoxiously loud moans as a man ploughs her from behind. Your eyes land on her nails, scratching against the counter, veins popping out from just how hard she’s gripping it for all she’s worth—like it’s the last bit of control she has. 

Her mouth is wide open, eyes rolling back as she screams the name ‘ Ran ‘. So you put two and two together, the dude's name is Ran. 

Ran is fucking her at a lazy pace, he doesn’t seem to be putting much work in his thrusts, but they sounded just as powerful regardless. The sounds of skin on skin fills your ears and the room as if her moans weren’t enough. 

He’s got an iron grip on her hips, holding her down to make sure she takes his entire length every time he shoves it back inside her. 

This is so wrong. Why are you watching this? You don’t know how long you’ve been standing here—but due to the fact that they haven’t noticed your presence yet, means it couldn’t have been too long. 

As if the odds were against you, the girl notices the music blasting from downstairs had suddenly gotten louder. She tilts her face towards the door, only to gasp loudly when she sees you there, holding your broken heels in your hands and you watch the lewd display in front of you with wide eyes. 

Eyes are even wider now that you’ve been caught. 

“R-ran—slow down!” The girl uses all her energy to lift her hand up and grabs his hand, long white acrylic nails digging into his wrists to get him to stop. 

Ran thrusts a couple more times before coming to a stop. “What?” He pants, out of breath, removing a hand from her hips to fix his dishevelled hair in the mirror. It’s only then, that he notices there’s an uninvited guest in the room. 

The moment you meet his eyes in the mirror, your fight and flight then begins to kick into gear, frantically apologising to the both of them before slamming the door shut. 

“What the fuck?!” You can hear the girl shout from the bathroom, clearly embarrassed to be caught in such an embarrassing position. You don’t blame her, you would feel that exact same way if that was you in her shoes. “How long was she there for?”

“Don’t know, don’t really care.” He’s not lying, he would’ve continue fucking her even if you were watching. Maybe he just discovered a new kink. 

Either way, his hands are spreading her asscheeks apart again, sliding his cock up and down her slit before slipping it back inside with a low groan. 

The moans picked up again as you waited outside the bathroom, awkwardly shuffling in place while digging your toes into the carpet. 

How long are they going to take?

Just looking at the build of the boy—you’d forgotten his name already; brain automatically wiping out anything from the last 4 minutes—you could  just tell he had stamina for days. 

You then decide to ask a passerby, tugging on his sleeve to grab his attention. He looks down at you with a raised brow. 

“Are there any spare bathrooms here?” 

He shrugs and continues walking. 

Well that was a waste of time. Just talking to that stranger took so much energy out of you, that same energy could’ve been used for something more productive. 

Your only option is to:

Pee yourself and further give your brain more humiliation to cry over later in your bed. 

Wait god knows how long for those two to stop fucking each other. 

Go pee in a bush outside. 

Option C) didn’t seem so bad, after all, there’s most definitely someone puking out there. But no, you stuck with the safe option B), and only hope they finish quick enough. 

Around five minutes later, the door finally opened and the girl walks out, passing you without even acknowledging your existence. Maybe her brain did the same as yours, wiping out the event from her brain to avoid humiliation—or she doesn’t care enough about you to remember you. 

Either way, you didn’t care. The less people talk about it the better. 

You turn, ready to enter the bathroom, only to crash straight into the chest of him—the boy whose name you’d forgotten. 

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You awkwardly smile up at him, ready to dip inside the bathroom, but he holds an arm out, physically stopping you from entering. 

“Were you waiting here the whole time?” 

“Uh,yeah? I need to p—use the bathroom.” 

Ran looks like he’s about to say something, but one look down and he can see how desperate you are to pee from the way you're awkwardly shuffling about. Zipping his mouth shut, he steps aside and watches you run inside the bathroom, locking it shut. 

He says no more and heads back downstairs to join the rest of the people. 

By the time you come back out, you can see your friend playfully splashing about with Shion inside the pool. The water is changing colours from purple to pink with the LEDS and you can’t help but think how beautiful it is. 

You’d definitely hop inside if it weren’t for the fact you has no swimsuit, and the fact there’s like a million people in this house. 

If it’s one thing you hated the most, it was crowds of people. Why you were even here tonight is a surprise in itself. Maybe call it character development, trying to sneak out of your comfort zone. So far, things were going well—you hadn’t had a panic attack yet, or freaked out.

“[Nickname], over here!!” 

You spoke too soon. You can feel every single pair of eyes land on you when your friend screams your nickname, waving you over from the doorway to come further into the back yard. 

Now everyone knows your presence, and your nickname. 

Including Ran, who doesn’t take his eyes off you the entire time you pad your bare feet along the fake grass, heading over to the closest part of the pool where your friend was. 

“Meet Shion, he’s the guy I was telling you about.” She has her arms around his shoulders, keeping herself upright in the pool with him as her support. 

You know who he is. You just don’t care about him. “Hi.” You say, pressing your lips into an awkward smile. 

“Yo. [Nickname], right?” No shit. You take a moment, shoving your irritation down your throat before nodding your head. “Cool.” He says that, then pulls your friend further into the pool. 

Some water splashes on your clothes and you can’t help but groan, annoyed. 

“Oh! I wanted to tell you that we’re staying a bit longer.” Your friend swims back to the end of the pool, over to where you’re standing and holds herself upright as she wipes the water from her face. 

“But—” I want to go home. 

Your friend can hear your thoughts and frowns. “Pleaseeee, I’ll make this up to you. I’ll go see that shitty movie you like next weekend.”

“It’s not shitty, you just have horrible taste.” 

“Yeah, whatever. But please, just a little longer.” She pouts up at you, those stupid puppy dog eyes that domt even work, but you accept her offer anyway. 

“Fine.”

“Yay! I love you!” She squeals when Shion comes up from behind her, dragging her back inside the pool. 

More water splashes on you, you’re currently counting in your head all 10 ways you can kill Shion in this party without being caught. Once the pool clears, you could drown him, you could crush up apple seeds and sprinkle them inside his cup—a life hack you saw on WikiHow the other day; you could push him down the stairs—

A voice coming from next to you interrupts your train of thought. “It’s rude to glare at people, y’know?” It’s deep, smooth, and sultry; with a whimsical tone to completly catch you offguard. 

“I’m not glaring,” You frown as you glare daggers in Shion’s direction, currently sucking your best friend's face in a heated makeout session. 

Ran follows your trail of vision, meeting Shion in the middle of the pool, his hands hoisting your friend up as her legs wrap around his waist, her hands cupping his cheeks as she moans into his mouth. 

Have some decorum. You think, not even realising what your face is doing, how your face is scrunched up in disgust as you watch those two go at it. “I never understood the concept of PDA.” You say to the man next to you, not even knowing who you’re talking to because all your attention is on them inside the pool.

Ran, at first glance, didn’t think you had the guts to speak to him one-on-one. The way you choked up inside that bathroom and left the second he even met your gaze had him intrigued. So, it’s quite obvious, to him, that you have no clue that he’s even next to you—otherwise he’s certain there’s a 90% chance this conversation wouldn’t be happening.

So, he decides to entertain the situation. “Yeah? You don’t like PDA?” 

“Nope. I find it disgusting.”

“Why’s that?” Ran asks, dropping to a squat to feel the temperature of the water, wondering if it’s cold enough for him to enter.

You shrug, your eyes haven’t left the two of them the entire time. “For someone who hates PDA, you sure are staring hard, what, you got a kink for voyeurism, or somethin’?”

Voyeuri—Oh, god, no. You look down to where the stranger's voice was coming from, meeting the same eyes of the man from earlier inside the bathroom. A stupidly charamistic, yet annoying, smile on his face as he realises you finally notice who you’d been mindlessly talking to the entire time.

“I—uh—no?” You give him that same awkward smile and you’re so ready to  bolt back inside, go anywhere where he’s not there. But before you even had the chance, he grabs your wrist, tugging you back to him so fast you almost fall into the pool. 

But you don’t.

“Why’re you nervous? You were talking with me just fine a moment ago.” Ran states, taking his eyes off you to see the happy couple getting up and leaving the pool a bit too eagerly. Yeah, they’re definitely going upstairs to fuck. The poolside is completely empty now, with the both of you being the only exception. The lights outside, brightening up the garden start to dim. 

“Yeah, I guess I was.” You start to shuffle awkwardly again, unsure of what to say, what to do, under his intense gaze. He takes his eyes off you and looks ahead, examining the pretty garden. From the fences outside, he can see people start to drive off.

The party has ended.

“Come sit [Nickname].” Ran pats the spot on the ground next to him and you can’t deny him. Dropping to the floor and joining him with just your legs inside the pool. 

“Ugh, please don’t call me that. It’s embarrassing.” You groan and cover your face with your eyes. 

“Ain’t that your name, though?”

“Nope, just a stupid nickname my friend made.” You slump your shoulders and paddle your feet into the pool.

“So….., what’s your name?”

“Don’t worry about it.” You wrinkle your nose as you stare into the depths of the now purple coloured pool. Ran looks at you from the corner of his eye, wondering why your guard is so up around him. He doesn’t even know you. Maybe it stemmed from the awkwardness of catching him balls deep inside a girl not even an hour ago, or maybe he was just naturally intimidating.

“You go school here?” He questions.

“Yeah.”

“How old are you?”

“20.”

“So, I know your age, and you go to my school, yet you can’t even give me your name?” 

You finally look at him, fiddling with your heels in your hand, nodding your head. “Yup.” You watch the corners of his mouth twitch up into a smile before a breezy chuckle leaves his lips, and you can’t help but notice how pretty he is. His hair is braided neatly, dropping down past his shoulders and as you follow the line of his braid, you come into contact with his bare chest—just now realising he’s shirtless.

The confidence you had just a second ago when you looked at him, now depetled down to a minus zero, unable to even look him in the face. He notices this and quickly uses a hand to cup your jaw to push your gaze back to his own. “Never seen a shirtless guy before?”

“No—well, yeah, but no—” Fuck, you’re stuttering again. You close your eyes to take deep breaths, in and out, around five times, before you face him again. “Can I go back inside now?”

“No.” He lets go of your face and leans back onto his hands. “Can you swim?”

“Yes—is this a questionnaire or something?”

He laughs again. “No, just tryna get you more comfortable, s’all.”

“I don’t need to get comfortable. I want to go home—”

“Tell me why you don’t like PDA. You’re genuinely like, the first person I met that doesn’t like it.” You blink up at him, a bit offended he cut you off before you could finish your sentence, but you get to thinking. Why don’t you like it? You simply think it’s unnecessary, doing sexual things like that in public. And you tell him just that.

“It’s fun, though. Don’t judge it till you try it.” When Ran closes his eyes, he pictures all the times he’s kissed girls in public spaces, remembers the sneaky handjob he’d gotten by a girl in the back of class, remembers the time he’d fuck a girl inside this very same pool—

Wait, a moment.

“I can show you what it's like—” You can feel him shift closer to you, just a little bit, his thigh brushing against your own. 

“I don’t really wanna try it.” You shove the heat between your legs away, throw it somewhere it’s not needed because the last thing you want to do, is fuck him inside this pool—or that’s what you think he’s insinuating.

“Scared you’re gonna get caught?” He teases and you shake your head so fast. 

“No! I dont—�� Yeah, you are scared, but he doesn’t have to know that. “I’m not scared.”

“Prove it.”

“How?”

Ran doesn’t need to say anything, instead, he taps his lips with his index finger. Just a single tap that tells you everything he’s thinking. You pause for a moment, before leaning to peck him on the lips, pulling away just as fast as you leaned in. 

“What was that?”

“A kiss.” 

Ran clicks his tongue before sliding into the pool. His height amazes you—his feet reaching the floor of the pool making it easy for him to stand up. You let him stand between your legs as he leans in closer, placing his hands on the ground next to you and tilts his head to softly press his lips against yours. 

The kiss was so gentle and you felt your fingers digging into your heels when he pulled away. “How was that?” He asks, looking into your eyes for the answer since your lips seemed frozen on the spot. 

“It was…fine.” You refuse to give him the satisfaction of knowing that the simple press of his lips against yours already had you mind blown, the fact if you thought hard enough, you could still feel his lips on yours. 

“Just fine?” He leans in closer, and you lean back. “Are you telling me the full truth?”

“Yeah?” 

You’re not. You both know it. 

Then, his lips are back on yours. Soft gentle presses but he subtly deepens it, tenderly sucking on your bottom lip. It has you closing your eyes and allowing him to kiss you further, though your lips are barely moving, just allowing him to kiss you as he pleases. Your fingers dig into the fabric of your heels, clutching them tight when you feel something long and wet graze your bottom lip. 

Ran removes his hands from the ground, one hand landing on your waist, the other gripping your chin lightly to lift your face higher. You could feel the stray hairs on his forehead brushing against your skin, tickling you. It makes you let out a breathy giggle and the second your mouth opens, his tongue follows suit, licking the inside of your mouth sensually. 

You make a strangled noise and drop your heels into the water to grab at his hand on your face. The wet splash from your heels hitting the water makes you both break away to look down. Ran retrieves the heels and is about to put it on the ground next to you before he notices the broken heel. 

“Why wear heels if you can’t walk in them?” He laughs when you scowl at him and try to grab them from him, but he’s faster, lifting a hand up too high for you to reach while sitting down. 

“I can walk, dumbass. I just tripped.” You try to grab them from him, catching him off guard as you hold the other end of the heel. His grip is strong when you try to forcefully rip it from his hands, but he tugs it towards him with 0 effort but it was strong enough to have you falling forward, straight into the pool.

Ran laughs when you emerge from the water, coughing and spluttering with water all over your clothes. “What the fuck, Ran!” 

“Oh! She swears.” He grins when you push at his chest with what he thinks is supposed to be a punch, but he never even felt it.

“You’re so annoying, dragging me into the pool like that. What if I couldn’t swim?”

Although Ran knows you’re being serious, he can’t take you seriously with that cute annoyed look on your face. “I know mouth to mouth.” He states shrugging his shoulders and you scoff. 

You choose to forget about your heel in his hand and begin to head towards the ledge of the pool to jump out, but his hands are faster, dropping the heel into the water before he’s wrapping an arm around your waist, tugging you back inside.

“Where you think you’re going? We were having fun.”

“You were having fun. I was getting bullied. Now lemme go!” You try to wriggle out from his grip, the uncomfortable feeling of your wet shirt and pants digging into your skin. Gross.

“No, we were having fun.” He states and you finally stop squirming around, allowing more water to splash on your clothes. “Are these uncomfortable?” He’s pinching at your wet shirt, tugging it a couple times to get your attention.

You wipe the water from your face before you look down at your arm where he’s tugging and nod your head. A part of you feels like you shouldn’t have said that, because the smirk that grew on his face makes you scream danger.

“Can I take it off you then?” 

No, of course you can’t. You want to say, but the way his arms slide down from your waist to grip onto your hips + lower back has you shivering. One hand slides up to your jaw, forcing you to crane your neck up to look into his purple eyes. 

“Well?”

“O-okay.” You watch as he doesn’t break eye contact with you as he reaches the hem of your shirt, tugging it lighty before he’s lifting the wet shirt over your body.

“Arms up, baby.” 

You obey, lifting your arms up and allowing him to slip them through, before he’s tossing the cloth on the ledge of the pool. You cringe as you watch him barely make the shot, the sleeve of your shirt still touching the pool water.

“Ran, you—” Before you can even complain, he’s moving your face away from your clothes and pressing his lips down to yours. You hum when he groans against your lips, moving your arms to his shoulders for better placement.

He breaks the kiss to change angles, shifting your face to the other direction with his nose before he’s kissing you again, allowing his lips to suck on your bottom one. His hands run down your sides, holding your waist as he licks away the waterdroplets from your lips.

You hold him so close to you as you feel his hands squeeze at your hips, tugging you so your chest is touching his own, not even an ounce of space between you two.

This is so unlike you. You’re never one to be half naked inside a pool, kissing a guy you don’t even know the last name of. But it made you feel so good, the way he kisses you like he’s wanted you for years, the way he runs his hands down your body like he’s appreciating you, the way he grips your asscheeks through your wet soiled leggings like he owns you.

He breaks the kiss to look down at you, his forehead pressed against your own and you can’t help but keep staring at his lips, desperate for his attention once more. “How was that?” He asks.

“Good.”

“Yeah? Just good.” When you don’t stop staring at his lips, he lifts a finger to your chin, forcing you to look up into his eyes. “I think it was more than just good.”

Oh this cocky shit. The smirk on his face is practically waiting for you to drown him in praise. Not gonna happen. 

“I think it was just good.”

He sighs, moving towards to sit on the ledge of the pool. “You’re a tough one to crack. Most girls fall in love with me instantly after I kiss them like that.”

“You’re so fucking cocky.” Despite your words, you find yourself moving closer to him, resting your arms beside him on the ledge of the pool, not really ready to jump out of the pool yet.

“You like it though.” 

You can’t help the eyeroll you give him as you hear him laugh spitefully. “You’re so ridiculous, I don’t even know why I’m entertaining you.” You brace your arms up to jump out but as if he could sense your next move, he’s dragging you towards him before you even get the chance to.

He pulls you between his legs where he’s sat and locks you in so you can’t escape. He scans over your face with his eyes, like he’s forcing his brain to remember every detail of your face, every curve of your eyelash to shove into the back of his mind for later. He drops his voice even lower before he repeats, “But you like it though.”

And fuck—he’s so right. Despite the longing urge you crave deep down to stuff his face underwater till he drowns, you find yourself gravitating towards his strangely odd addictive personality, wanting to get to know him better. That’s why you decide to throw away your morals, gripping the back of his neck before you’re pulling his head down to meet your lips in another kiss.

Ran’s surprised at first, not expecting you to be the one initiating anything. He will admit at first he was interested in you, wanting to see where your head was at with things, the thought of fucking you not even on his mind. But the more you spoke, the more he found himself wanting to get rid of that shy awkward side of you, wanting to see you more comfortable around him.

And boy, was that fast. 

You tap on his thigh with your spare hand, urging him to come further inside the pool. He understood the memo, sliding down from the ledge till he’s standing tall above you. The new angle has you straining your neck just to deepen the kiss, a soft groan leaving your lips when you feel him pull your leggings down, exposing your ass to the cold-now-cool water now that your body has adapted to the temperature. 

From across the pool, just sitting by the ledge of the pool, your phone  vibrates. 

You open an eye and peek over at your phone screen flashing on and off with each notification, then pull away from the kiss. 

Ran’s about to grab you, his hand just missing your own as you make your way over to the ledge, drying your hands on your half soaked shirt before turning on your phone and reading your messages.

You flinch when you feel two strong hands on your shoulders and you don’t need to look behind you to know who it is. “What’s wrong?” He asks, lips brushing against the skin of your shoulder blade as he presses kisses on your skin.

“Just my friend. She said she’s leaving.” You say and with a click of a button you’re turning your phone back off. “Well, this was fun….what’s your name again?”

The look he gives you makes you laugh before you jump outta the pool, bending to pick up your shirt to wringe it. “You really forgot my name?”

“Yup!” Once enough water has left your shirt semi-dry but comfortable enough to wear, you put it on. “I’ll maybe see you around.” No promises, you think, ashamed of your behaviour tonight.

“Wait, I don’t even have your name—” His plea goes through deaf ears as you’re already sprinting towards the door and disappearing through the house. 

#—tr </3 #✧.* niya™ #·˚ ◌༘₊· ͟͞꒰➳ tr fics. #ran x reader #haitani ran x reader #tokyorev x reader #ran haitani x reader #tokrev #tokrev x reader #haitani ran smut #haitani ran x y/n #haitani ran x you #ran haitani smut #ran haitani fluff #ran haitani x you #tr smut #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo rev smut #tokrev smut

[catt-leya]

Good Girl (18+) || Rick Grimes

Summary: After a long day in the rain, Rick comes home and just wants to hold you. But it doesn't take him long to weaken and fuck you senseless (sorry I really suck at summaries, so here you have the original Request)

Trigger: age gap (everyone is of age)

The wind beats the rain against the living room window and I pull my blanket even closer to my chin.

It's late fall, but the weather has been so great the last few weeks that this storm was bound to happen sooner or later, and of course Rick picked this exact day to slaughter the walkers at an outpost.

I'm also well aware that I don't have to worry about Rick at all because he's probably one of the few people that nothing really bad ever happens to, but I can't help but feel worse and worse the longer he's out.

Normally I would have gone with him, but with my medical knowledge, I was needed in the infirmary today and now have nothing better to do than stare out the window and wait for my boyfriend.

I am so lost in thought that I wince when there is a sudden knock on the door and I jump up frantically. My legs get caught in the blanket and I just manage to pull myself together to avoid hitting the floor head-on.

Half stumbling, I arrive at the door and yank it open. I don't expect to see Rick in front of it because he would have just walked in, but when I see Daryl in front of the door, I still shrink a little, "You want to come in?"

He shakes his head and I stare at the raindrops running down on him like he's stepped into a shower in clothes.

Daryl's voice is raspy and I'm worried he's going to be seriously ill when he grumbles, "Rick told me to tell you he'll be right in. He wanted to bring something else to Michonne."

A ton of stones fall from my heart and I smile gratefully at him, "Okay. You sure you don't want to come in? I can make you some tea. If you keep walking through the rain like that, you're going to get sick."

He's already turning away, though, and calls over his shoulder, "I'm going to lie down. Don't worry."

Skeptically, I watch him walk through the pouring rain toward his house, and after a good 50 feet, I can't really see him anymore.

I cross my arms in front of my chest and stop in the doorway. When push comes to shove, I can be patient, although I'm really not by nature at all.

After what feels like an eternity, I finally see Rick coming toward me through the rain curtain, and I ignore the thick raindrops as I run up to him and fall around his neck.

In surprise, he staggers back a few steps, "Ufff...Are you okay?"

I press myself against his wet body, "I am now."

His clothes are sticking to him, but I can still feel the warmth radiating from him and am just happy to hold him in my arms.

His hands stroke my back and he murmurs, "Let's go inside."

I bury my nose in his neck and hear him laugh softly, "Princess?"

Rick's large hands slide to my butt and without warning he lifts me up and I wrap my legs around his waist.

Actually, it wasn't my intention to be carried by him, but I don't complain as he carries me through the rain to our house.

Softly I sigh in his ear, "I missed you."

He aligns me on his hip before taking the first step of the stairs and replies, "I missed you too."

We just saw each other this morning, but there's a kind of dependence between us that may even reach unhealthy proportions at times. Even now I need more of him, but when I open my mouth he is just going up the first step and the movement presses his belt buckle to a certain spot between my legs and a high-pitched moan slips from my lips.

Immediately he stops and I feel him trying to stifle his laughter.

Embarrassed, I close my eyes, "Sorry."

That's the moment he can't hold back anymore and laughs out loud, "That was the belt, right?"

Playfully, I pull his short hair and growl, "Shut up."

I feel his chest vibrate because he's trying to keep his mouth shut and goes up the second flight of stairs, being careful to push me back against the buckle and I bite my lower lip hard to keep from making a sound, which he doesn't let go uncommented, "I want to hear it again."

Embarrassed, I grab his hair tighter and lift my head to face him and hiss, "Put me down." The problem with this is probably that he likes it when I grab his hair tightly

Childishly, he grins at me and takes the last step.

I can't control the deep breath I take and Rick uses the moment to kiss me on the lips, which of course makes me groan again and he quietly teases into the kiss, "I'm starting to realize how much you've missed me."

I squirm in his arms and he lowers me down laughing softly.

Before I'm even properly on my feet, he kisses me quickly on the nose and mumbles an apology.

I don't hold it against him either and I just roll my eyes, "You know, I'm just a young woman who likes her boyfriend. So you best be happy that I think you're hot enough to do me with your belt buckle."

Rick grabs my hand and finally pulls me inside, "Noted."

The warmth inside is pleasant on my wet skin and I can imagine how much Rick craves a warm shower, so I lovingly push him toward the stairs, "Go take a shower. I'll wait for you here."

He walks up the stairs without resistance, and my horned-up brain can't take its eyes off his back, where the wet shirt clings to him like a second skin.

With each step I see his muscles move and I don't realize I've almost started drooling until he disappears into our bedroom.

Shaking my head, I walk to a closet in the living room and take out a towel.

As I dry off I try to put the image of Rick on the stairs out of my mind, but just can't get rid of it. I've always thought that there comes a point in a relationship where you don't want to fuck your boyfriend, non-stop, but I'm starting to think that it doesn't work that way for either of us.

In fact, our sex has gotten more and more interesting over the past few months, to the point where Rick has asked me to call him sir or even daddy. I never thought about whether I might like something like that, but Rick was all over the idea.

It's probably our age difference, which then becomes more apparent and turns him on so much.

The first time, I tried it out for his sake and when the words left my lips, everything inside me contracted. The way his eyes lit up and his hard cock twitched against my thigh almost made me go crazy and now he fucks my brains out almost daily.

To be completely honest, I didn't expect him to still have that kind of stamina at his age, but he's anything but prude and can bring me to orgasm more than once and he doesn't even have to try very hard for that.

The sooner I come, the prouder he is of himself and really I shouldn't encourage him any more in his ego, but it's almost ridiculous how easy it is for him and there's nothing I can do about it.

I once tried to think of the strangest things, but Rick is always so present and practically forces me to squirm under him.

Completely lost in thought, I cry out when I feel a hand on my shoulder and even as I realize it's just Rick, my heart is still hammering way too fast in my chest and I press the flat of my hand to it, "Oh God."

Rick tilts his head and looks at me questioningly, "What were you thinking about?"

I'm certainly not going to put it on him that after the belt buckle party I had to think about how easily he can make me come, so I shrug and toss the damp towel in my hands onto the chair next to us, "Nothing in particular."

Briefly, his gaze lingers on me and I use the moment to let my eyes slide over his torso, now covered by a loose fitting white shirt.

Gently Rick takes my hand and pulls me to the couch where I was lying earlier.

Sighing, he drops onto it and pulls me into his arms. My back is pressed against his warm chest and instead of looking out the window again, I close my eyes and enjoy his closeness.

His breathing hits the back of my neck regularly and his hand paints small circles on my covered belly.

The silence is comfortable and I press closer to his chest.

Rick kisses me fleetingly behind my ear and whispers softly, "I couldn't wait to be with you again all day."

Smiling, I mumble "Hmmm" and my smile grows even wider as I feel him spread more kisses on my neck.

With each kiss, his hand slides lower until he slides it under my top and touches my bare skin.

Sighing, I turn my head to him and he kisses me without waiting even a second.

My whole body is electrified even though the kiss is soft and intimate, but there's something engaging about it and I feel like he's kissing me deeper than he normally does.

Roughly, I breathe against his lips, "What are you doing?"

His answer is a muffled "Shhh" and then his tongue is in my mouth.

It's neither wild nor dirty. It's a loving gentle kiss that makes me press my butt against his crotch and I hear the sweetest sounds from him.

His fingers on my belly stroke lower and lower as light as a feather and he gently slides those between my legs.

At the first touch on my clit I gasp hoarsely and he devotes himself to my neck again.

In slow circles he works between my legs.

His touch is far too light and I try to push myself toward his hand, just then his lips hover over my skin on my neck and he asks softly, "How do you want it?"

I know the game and I know exactly what he's asking for, but no matter how long we've been doing this, I can't help blushing and whispering, "Hard, Rick."

There's silence for a moment and I notice my legs tighten more and more, then Rick says behind me, "No nicknames tonight okay?"

I'm a little surprised, but mumble, "Okay," because it's Rick.

If he wants to hear his own name come out of my mouth while he fucks me senseless, that's exactly what he gets.

He presses harder on my clit in thanks, and that's enough to make me come trembling in his arms, feeling his increasingly hard cock pressing against my ass.

I try to catch my breath as he turns us so that he kneels behind me and helps me straighten up enough so that my butt is in proper position.

Waiting, I rest my head on the couch and look up over my shoulder at him.

Rick looms over me his gaze is fixed on me in awe, as if he can't believe I'm actually letting him do this to me and allow him to use and love me day after day.

Impatiently I wiggle my butt, "Please Rick."

I can't wait to feel him inside me anymore. To feel every single vein inside me until I feel like I can't hold on anymore.

Hoarsely he growls, "Let's see how many times I can make you cum."

My pussy tightens in anticipation and I feel Rick reach around me and pull my underpants, including my panties, down to my knees.

Cool air hits the dampness between my legs, which is almost embarrassing, but it always happens to me when he touches me, so I close my eyes and take a deep breath as I hear him take off his sweatpants.

I know exactly how big he is. I know every inch of Rick's body inside and out, and he probably knows my body better than I do myself, so I'm not surprised that he slides the tip of his cock just over my pussy and makes me whimper pitifully, "Just do it. Please."

I try to meet him, but he presses a hand firmly between my shoulder blades, limiting my movement, "Sure you've earned it?"

I flick my eyes open and look him firmly in the eyes clouded with arousal, "I've been a good girl."

While I'm not supposed to call him daddy or sir, he didn't say anything about skipping other games that I know turn him on.

So I bat my eyelashes and breathe, "Please show me what a good girl deserves. Use me to cum."

I can see exactly in his eyes when I'm hitting the right nerve and I moan gratefully as he pushes his tip inside me.

Slowly he stretches me with his thickness and I hear his choppy breathing as he gasps, "I want to fuck you so bad you can't look straight afterwards, fuck I want to destroy you."

I lick my lips and bring a whimpering, "Please Rick," to my lips.

He presses my torso harder against the couch as he feels me squirm beneath him and I gasp, "Oh God."

Deeper and deeper he penetrates me and I try to push my knees further apart to open myself wider for him, but my pants prevent me from doing so and I'm forced to rely completely on Rick and let him control how he wants to fuck me.

When his full length is inside me he snorts, "I fuck you every day and yet I always forget how tight you are."

Instead of taking me like that, though, he takes his free hand and squeezes my knees, causing me to notice him even more intensely inside me and whimper weakly, "Rick, you're so deep inside me."

I only get an "I know" from him before he pulls back and thrusts hard into me as promised.

My head is completely blank and I'm not even able to form a clear thought as he thrusts into me again and I hear his moan, "You're so good."

His hand slides from my back to the nape of my neck and he grabs my hair to pull on it.

Groaning, I bury my face in the couch and try to push my legs apart again, but Rick tugs at my hair and hisses, "Move an inch and I'll stop."

I inhale sharply and that's when Rick hits the right spot with his tip, making me tense around him and contract around him in rhythmic intervals.

He fucks me through my orgasm and gasps, "Two."

The fact that he's counting along is humiliating, but I can't help that this is exactly what makes me moan his name over and over and makes him ask me hoarsely, "Harder?"

He needs it at least as much as I do, and when I breathe, "Yes," he rams himself into me so hard that I have to reach for the edge of the couch to keep from banging my head against the backrest with each thrust.

Hectically, he reaches around me and holds my hips in place as my legs threaten to give way and it's not long before I cum shaking another time on his cock twitching inside me..

Rick growls, "Three," and doesn't even think about stopping to give me a break.

I'm already sure I'm going to be more sore tomorrow than I've ever been before, and instead of saying I can't take any more, I let him fuck me and can't bring myself to make a sound.

My mouth just hangs open and I barely notice Rick pulling my long hair again, "You're filling up the four."

He doesn't expect any contradiction, that's why it's not a question but a simple statement and he keeps thrusting into me.

By the way his thrusts become uncontrolled, I know he's about to cum himself and I moan, "That's your pussy, Rick. It's yours. Only yours."

At my words, his upper body falls forward and his chest presses against my back.

He pulls my head back and kisses me hard on the lips, making me cum one more time and bringing tears to my eyes at the same time.

Pulsing, I bring him to climax and he buries his face in my neck as he groans so loudly I wonder if it can't be heard outside.

As soon as he releases his hand from my hip, I land flat on my stomach and Rick clumsily on top of me.

Before all the air is squeezed out of my lungs, he rolls off me and pulls me back against his chest.

My whole body feels weak and I realize I'm getting tired, so Rick whispers, "Was I too rough?"

I shake my head lazily and bury my face in his chest.

I can't stifle a yawn and breathe, "No, not at all."

Gently, he squeezes me tighter, "I love you."

I bury my fingers in the fabric of his shirt and can only bring myself to say, "Hmmm."

Quietly, Rick laughs, "Did I really break you? You usually love to talk."

He wanted to destroy me and he absolutely did.

So well, that I just mumble, "Promise fulfilled," and nod off.

@hail-yourselves @bean-is-reading @chanlvr2 @criminalwalkingsupernatural @sunshinevirus @toxic-ink @kingtwhiddleston

#rick grimes #rick grimes imagine #rick grimes smut #rick grimes x reader #twd x reader #twd #the walking dead #request

[burification]

Fever In Bedtime Covers

Wilbur Soot x Reader

Ao3

Warnings: almost smut. but not. cheating,, toxic relationship, i think that’s it ???

no smut but minors dni pls pls pls plssssss

It’s cold. It’s late. You’re tired. You’re too upset to care. You’re livid. Despite your anger, a rational part of you admits that you should’ve gone to bed, or at least drove instead of storming out of your apartment. You don’t know where you’re going but you don’t stop. It’s not the most dangerous area, but you are still young and alone at almost one in the morning and that adds a layer of uneasiness to the air nipping at your skin.

You give up on storming off before you get lost and you seek solace on a bench at a park nearby, usually lively with families and laughter but is now so quiet. You take a moment to collect yourself, let your breath steady, attempting to find some semblance of peace. You breathe. You want to go home, you want everything to be how it was before. You don’t want to be alone in this park.

The eeriness and uncertainty of the dark decides for you that you should get back home.

You feel stupid. You feel immature. You plan how you will make it up to him, for making accusations and then storming out. You think until you’re in your building and climbing the stairs before you collide into another body. A familiar face- you recognize him as someone from your building. He’s distracted by something on his phone and you don’t know if you should make anything out of this interaction before your thoughts are interrupted by a “Sorry, ‘m just trying to get up to my apartment.”

You knew you recognized him but had never spoken to him. You’ve heard someone with an accent playfully yelling from time to time, you just wouldn’t have guessed to associate those joking vulgarities with the seemingly reserved and warm looking boy in front of you. “I’m Wil, I’ve seen you around but I don’t think we’ve met properly.” You introduce yourself to him, in hopes that a nice chat will ease your anxieties of going back home.

Before you can start any meaningful conversation, he excuses himself to take a phone call and you’re left with a mix of curiosity and relief from the brief interaction.

You go back to the flight of stairs up to your apartment until you’re in front of your door. You’re back in your thoughts again, thinking of how you could possibly make this up to your partner. Again, your thoughts are interrupted but this time by the sound of keys being shoved into a lock to your left. It’s Wil again.

“We just keep running into each other,” you joke. He laughs half heartedly.

“What’re you doing out this late anyway?”

You’re not sure how to respond. You settle on a vague response, not wanting to burden him with your personal troubles. You don’t mention your insecurity and self doubt, unsure if you overreacted or if there’s a genuine cause for concern in your relationship. Despite the turmoil, you simply say, “I just needed some air.”

“Very well. Goodnight then.” And he disappears into his apartment. You feel a yearning to talk to him more. There is something about him that exudes warmth and comfort and in this moment of vulnerability, you want to confide in him.

You retreat into your own apartment, trying to ignore the emotional turbulence and focus on your partner. It’s dark, no sign of anyone. You wonder if he had the same idea as you after the fight- perhaps he decided to clear his head as well, hopefully he was smart enough to take the car. A glimmer of hope wonders if he felt bad and went to go look for you. You feel around the wall to find the light switch while you grab your phone to call and let him know you’re home safe. As light fills the room, your gaze shifts down at your phone, you notice a pair of shoes by the door that you don’t quite recognize. They’re definitely not your partner’s and they’re a bit too expensive to be yours. The pit of anxiety in your stomach weighs heavy like a rock and molds into disappointment.

The hallway seems to go on forever, your heart races with trepidation as you quietly make your way to the bedroom. Hoping against hope that your fears are unfounded, you pray that you’re worrying over nothing. You would rather be insecure and crazy for the rest of your life than any of the other thoughts running through your head be true. The doorknob is cold, the door is cracked already and all that’s left for you to do is push. You do. It’s dark, it’s silent.

There’s a blue hue filling the room and with that small illumination, you make out a small figure in the arms of your lover. There’s no clothes strewn across the room, there’s no sick smell of sweat. It resembles the room you left behind, with the sole difference being the presence of the woman entwined with your partner.

You can’t bring yourself to cry out. You can’t bring yourself to be angry. It’s late. You’re tired. The hallway shrinks in size as you make your way to the front door again. You can’t storm off. You’re not livid, you’re just defeated. You’re standing in the hallway of your apartment complex, unaware of where to go or who to call. It’s too late to burden your family and you left all your friends to focus on the man lying in your bed with another woman.

Your knuckles against wood catches your brain up to your body. “We just keep running into each other don’t we?” Wil says in a playful tone. You wonder how he has so much energy this late at night. “I’m tired,” is all you manage to get out. “Are you locked out?” He asks, because he didn’t see you walk in and he didn’t see you walk out with half of your heart still in that apartment.

He takes your lack of an answer as acceptance, he extends an invitation and welcomes you in. His apartment is warm, not only physically but it’s also comforting, much like his presence. There’s a sense of home that you didn’t know could exist in this building, it’s a nice contrast from the cold and dark of your apartment.

The lights are on and there’s light music coming from another room. Nothing too loud, nothing you could hear from your apartment, it’s gentle.

He breaks the silence, “Is everything alright? It’s pretty late and you seem upset. Did something happen to you?” And he’s right. It is late. And you don’t know this man, who was stumbling up the steps when you met him. And you’re alone in his apartment. You wonder if he lives by himself or if anyone else is here.

“Do you afford this place on your own?” you try to get some information out of him. It’s not the nicest place but you could barely afford your apartment with your partner's income together.

“I do, yes.”

You wonder how he’s able to. It’s decorated nicely, guitar stands in the corner of the living area next to the gaming consoles across from the nice looking sectional couch. It’s nothing too extravagant but it’s comfortable.

He motions you to sit down and make yourself comfortable while he offers you a glass of water. He behaves as if he’s ready to start his morning.

“What’re you doing up this late?” It's your turn to ask questions now.

“Could you just confirm that everything is okay? Do I need to call anyone?” He seems genuinely worried. You think about how you’d react if a stranger just knocked on your door at three in the morning without saying much.

“I’m okay.” You assure. Wil visibly relaxes.

“I’m just up so I can work.” You assume he’s trying to get stuff done before a deadline, “Where’re you working?” “I do online stuff. Some of the people I make things with live across the country. I try to work with their time. I don’t mind it too much though, I prefer being up in the later hours.” You’re too tired to care to pry so you just accept his answer.

“May I ask why you knocked on my door?”

You don’t want to relive it, your heart still aches for the pieces of it that you left by the door. You tell him. You try not to look at him while you do because every word that comes out of your mouth, his eyes soften. Every word of consolation he says is dripping with a care and hospitality that you’ve grown so unfamiliar to. You want to cry because this stranger is being so kind to you and you want more, you feel pathetic. You want to tell him all your troubles so he can lick your wounds. And he does. In a way a stranger can without overstepping, he does. He listens.

You feel bad for burdening him. He doesn’t seem to mind, though. He listens like he is truly interested in you and your stories. It’s almost three in the morning now and you wonder if this guy sleeps at all. You’re not tired anymore. Your body is, but your brain is wide awake. Maybe you’re trying to stay awake to be alert or to take in this moment. Your glass is empty. You know you should leave but you don’t know if you could bring yourself to go home. Almost as if he could read your mind, he grabs your glass and takes it over to the kitchen. You prepare to leave and to be alone again. You think of ways to thank him but instead, he’s sat back down with a full cup of water. Almost as a way to say ‘Stay.’ You accept and hope he can see the gratitude in your eyes.

You two talk like old friends catching up with each other. You exchange stories and Wil’s soft and sympathetic eyes have turned to squinty ones accompanied with laugh lines. His personality is just as warm as his eyes are and you wonder if the room is being lit up by the lights or if it’s just that smile he bares. You can’t help but feel a bit guilty taking in his appearance when he listened to you so intently. Your glass is empty again and you can barely keep your head up. You want to stay, you want to be safe here and let him put you back together. You want him to make you whole again. “Here,” he gets up to grab you a blanket and a remote to turn on the tv, “Would you like to watch anything?” You feel like you’ve surely overstayed your welcome, “I should go.” “You don’t have to go back. Stay,” he says it out loud this time and like a well trained dog, you listen.

“Is this okay?” He sits close. “Mhm,” you mumble. He throws the blanket across both your laps. “What do you wanna watch?” He nudges the remote towards you but you just bury your face in his shoulder. “You choose,” you don’t care, you just want to be close, “please hold me.” He obeys. He rests an arm around your shoulder, he’s careful about it but you move yourself closer to him. You crave him, his warmth and his touch. You want to be whole again. He pulls you closer and you hold him harder, you hold him like he will disappear if you let go.

“Thank you for being so kind to me Wil,” you say it just above a whisper, “thank you.” He holds your head against his shoulder. He doesn’t say or do anything other than that small action but you take it and savor it. “Why are you being so kind to me, Wil?” He’s quiet for a second, “I don’t know,” you look at him but he’s not looking at you. He’s looking forward to the tv show he put on before, “you seem like you need someone right now. I want to be here for you.” He’s looking down at you now, you try not to let your eyes water but his expression is honest and it sends you over the edge.

He pulls you onto his lap until your legs are caging him and then his hands are on the back of your head. He pulls you close until the top of your head is met by his lips. He holds you close, he holds you like you are made of porcelain, as if you will shatter into a million pieces if he lets you go.

You know you shouldn’t, god knows how much of a hypocrite you’d be if you did, but you do it anyway. You need this, even if it’s just for tonight. You bring yourself up from your place on his chest to cup his face, you kiss him. You don’t expect him to, but he kisses you back. It’s fluid, it’s natural. Your hands are laced in his hair and his hands have gone from rubbing your back to holding your hips. You’re filled with another spurt of energy, a carnal desire. You’re so drunk on his lips that you cast aside any need for oxygen. His hand goes from your hip to your cheek and he pulls away. “Are you sure about this?” He’s searching your face for any trace of doubt. “Please, Wil,” you need this. You would get down on your knees to prove to him if you needed to.

You kiss him again, it’s short this time as you make your way down to his jaw, his neck, and to the small bit of collarbone exposed from his collared shirt. You move with the rise and fall of his chest as you undo his buttons. The kisses get hungrier with desperation with every button undone until you’re at his jeans. You leave small kisses at his hips before you look up at him one more time for an okay to go ahead. He looks at you at with the same sympathetic look he gave you before.

“I don’t think this is what you need right now, my darling.” You know he’s right, every part of your being wants to fight against it and just have this but you know he’s right.

“I’m sorry,” you take back your place next to him on the couch, “you’ve been nothing but kind to me tonight I don’t mean to use you. I’m so sorry.” Any lingering feeling of confidence and bliss has gone and replaced itself with regret. You want to crawl away and sulk in your deplorable sorrows like a bad dog.

A hand on your knee breaks you from your trance. You don’t move, you hope that maybe if you’re still enough you’ll disappear from this situation.

“Look at me please.”

To no avail you’re still here. Your head feels like boulders upon your shoulders as you bring yourself to look at him. You don’t expect what you see. There’s no trace of pity or discomfort anywhere on his face. Instead, you see the eyes filled with warmth and comfort you were met with before any of this happened which makes it feel all the more heart wrenching.

“I want this,” he keeps his hand on your knee and offers a reassuring squeeze, “just under different circumstances.” You can’t bring yourself to say anything so you just nod.

“Let me take you out tomorrow? Maybe we can try this again.”

“I could settle for that.” You wonder how a person’s company could be so serene.

“You can stay here tonight, okay? I’ll take the couch.”

“Can we both stay here please?”

He hums a yes and excuses himself to his room to wash up and grab some pillows and blankets.

When he comes back his face looks fresh and his hands are full with two pillows, a thick blanket and stuffed whale.

“Whalebur.” Is all he says, in full seriousness. “You can sleep with him tonight.”

He makes the couch into a makeshift bed and turns off the lights, the only thing granting you guys vision is the tv screen that he leaves on. He pulls you into his side in a half sit half laying down position, you lean your head against his shoulder with one arm around his and one arm holding onto his stuffed whale. There’s some album review youtube video playing on the screen that he watches intently and if you’re being honest, you don’t know if it’s his fingers tracing circles on your skin or the video that’s causing you to doze off.

At some point in the video, you fall asleep. You’re awoken shortly after to a light snore above you, where Wil decided to rest his head against yours. His arm is around your waist now and you’re closer to him than you were before. It’s cozy. You want to stay here, in this moment. You want to get used to this warmth, this comfort. You want to get used to the closeness and the tenderness he offers.

You hold the plush, blue whale to yourself tighter and drink in every second of the setting. You want to get used to this. Your head is filled with thoughts of waking up and falling asleep next to someone so unconditionally sweet. You let these ideas saturate your brain and hope they bleed into your dreams before you drift off into sleep for a final time.

#burification #wilbur soot x reader #c:wilbur #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot fanfiction

[tgmsunmontue]

Come on baby light my fire… 1/2

Hangster. 3k. Explicit. Apartment fire alarm at 1am featuring Jake in his underwear and Bradley with kittens.

                His eyes open immediately, the sound of alarms drilled into him that he wakes instantly, body already rolling out of bed before he’s even consciously thought to do so.

                Holy shit.

                Fire.

                He moves on auto pilot, Hilary’s instructions playing in his head, grab the carrier, put the kittens inside. They’re likely to hide under the couch from the loud sounds. He grabs the apartment keys, pulls on the robe hanging on the back of Hilary’s door and shoves the keys into the pocket; remembering her strict instructions to not forget keys because otherwise he’d be locked out and severely fucked.

                Keys. Check. Now onto the kittens.

                Of course he can’t see them anywhere.

                Fuck.

                It’s been over a minute already, and even if it’s just a false alarm all his senses are blaring at him to get out get out get out.

                She had said to put his own safety first but he has to at least try to coax the kittens out. He grabs the treat bag and rustles it, staring intently at the dark space under the sofa. Sees one little pink nose pop out and he knows if he gets one out then the other will follow. Sure enough one scampers over to him, followed immediately by the other and he scoops them both up, one in each hand, popping them into the carrier and quickly zipping it shut, but not before dropping in a treat each and pocketing the rest of the bag.

                There’s immediately high-pitched meows of indignation but he ignores them, double checks the keys in the robe pocket, grabs his phone and wallet and then gaps it for the stairs. He takes the steps down quickly, seven flights easy work considering the fitness level he has to maintain as a fighter pilot and he steps outside, follows the flow of people to what he assumes is the building assembly point. Everyone looks pretty disgruntled to be awake, and he’s not the only one with a pet-carrier, and there are still people coming out of the eight-floor building.

                He’s grateful it’s not fucking winter, his bare feet bad enough, but at least he’s wearing sleep pants and tank, although he probably could have done without grabbing the thin satin bathrobe off the back of Hilary’s door. It’s bright pink, a fact he hadn’t computed in his rushed and panicked state, nor the fact that it’s far too tight across his shoulders and on his arms.  He is however not the worst off, there’s a guy in nothing but his underwear, although if a guy is going to stand around in his underwear Bradley’s glad that they look like that. Jesus he’s got a body on him. Pretty like in a magazine.

                Of course, because his life is shit, the guy catches him looking (staring), quirks an eyebrow and Bradley flushes but doesn’t look away. Then he mentally throws his shoulders back, picks up the carrier and walks over.

                “You want the tank or the robe?”

                “Not going to offer me your pants?”

                “I’m not wearing anything underneath.”

                “I don’t mind.”

                “I think other people might.”

                “Shame. I’m actually okay. I run hot.”

                “I bet you do.”

                He can’t believe he’s standing in the street, middle of the night, two kittens in a carrier at his feet, hitting-on and being hit-on by one of the hottest guys he’s ever seen.

                “Name’s Jake.”

                “Bradley. Nice to meet you Jake.”

                “Likewise. So, you had to find these two before making your own escape huh?”

                “Well, Oreo and Cracker weren’t quite up to the job of rescuing me. They’re easily bribed though…”

                “Cute…” Jake says, but he’s looking at Bradley rather than the kittens and he flushes, can’t believe this guy is being so blatantly interested in him and then he realizes he’s just a guy right now. Albeit a guy wearing a pink satin bathrobe with two kittens in a carrier but yeah, okay, that probably makes some people assume things, and they’d probably be wrong, but he’s not going to correct Jake. He’s not in uniform, people aren’t going to assume he’s straight. Jake might be assuming he’s gay, but Bradley is an out and proud bisexual, even if he has to come out repeatedly every time someone conveniently forgets.

                “Lucky you don’t need cute animals to make you look attractive…” Bradley offers.

                “Trust me honey, neither do you…”

                Firetrucks arrive then and they shuffle off to the side, watch along with the hundred or so other people as they enter the building. There aren’t any flames, so he’s hopeful that it is indeed a false alarm and he’ll soon be reunited with the bed. Although he doesn’t mind the company he’s made, Jake’s back and ass looking pretty fucking spectacular as he crouches down to wiggle his fingers at the kittens.

                “All clear! Okay everyone, you can go back in… All clear! Just a false alarm…”

                There’s a general grumbling but Bradley’s too used to training for fires with the use of multiple alarms to ever begrudge having to practice something like this as a civilian in his downtime. It feels so quietly mundane for people to not simply be grateful that it is a false alarm, that they aren’t all suddenly homeless and watching the building turn to ashes. He shakes his head, pulls the keys from the robe pocket and Jake is staring at him, eyes wide like he’s seen a ghost.

                “What?”

                “Fuck. Fuck.”

                “What?” Bradley repeats, becoming more concerned at the increasing agitation on Jake’s face.

                “I don’t have a key.”

                “You didn’t think about getting back in?”

                “No!” Jake snaps and then winces at his own tone. “Sorry. Fire drills are drilled into me pretty hard, you drop everything and get the fuck out.”

                “Yeah, that’s fair. I probably would have been the same if I hadn’t had to stop and coerce these guys out…” he says, trying to make Jake feel like less of an idiot. He scratches his jaw. “Look, you want to, uh, come back and crash at my place?”

                He doesn’t want to mention it’s not actually his place. That’s more likely to make Jake refuse. And he means it as a genuine offer, it’s the middle of the night, hours away from likely finding someone to help him get into his own apartment.

                “No ulterior motives?”

                “No. You can just crash on the sofa.”

                “And if I want there to be ulterior motives?”

                Bradley catches his eye and the look is serious now, intense.

                “Yeah… that could, that could be arranged. Sure.”

                “Lead the way.”

…            …            …

                He pushes open the door to the apartment and feels awkward, the easy banter from before gone in the mundane walk up the stairs, not willing to wait in the queue for the elevator. He’d felt Jake behind him the entire way, and now they’re standing there just looking at each other, the cat carrier between them a

                “I can just sleep on the sofa,” Jake offers, his eyes soft and it unfreezes something in him, his head immediately shaking.

                “No, it’s fine…”

                “I don’t usually do this…”

                “Me either. I have… nothing.”

                “Shit. Okay, well, we’ll work with what we’ve got. Hands and spit and get a little messy with that I guess… I’m a prepared boy scout in my apartment though. Just for the record.”

                “Not prepared enough to not be locked out…” Bradley replies, and he relaxes a little more, the light teasing making him feel that level of playful flirty-ness they’d had earlier.

                “Yeah yeah. Come on, let your little prisoners out…”

                Of course Orea and Cracker want to leave the carrier just as much as they wanted to go into it, so he carefully lays it on the side, leaving the zippered top open to the room. Soon enough they’re scrambling out and making beelines for the food, water and litter box, sniffing around like it’s an entirely new environment.

                “You know, you’re considerably over dressed here…”

                “You’re welcome to do something about that.”

                “Mmm…”

                Then Jake’s kissing him, lips soft as he pushes the robe off his shoulders and it falls to the ground with a thunk, his wallet and phone reminding him of their presence. He pulls back, quickly grabs them and sets them on the little table by the door and goes back to Jake who’s watching him with amusement before he steps back into Bradley’s space, a hand going to his waist, one finger slipping under the band and he lets his own hands rest on Jake, so much skin already uncovered.

                “You’re right, you do run hot…”

                “Uh huh… means I can keep you warm if you get cold.”

                “Don’t think that’s going to be a problem,” Bradley murmurs, because his body is heating up with every brush of Jake’s fingers, and he lets him pull his tank over his head. Hears the faint very nice murmured under Jake’s breath and feels a lick of arousal go through him that Jake likes what he sees. Then his pants are being pushed down, fingers wrapping around his cock and giving it a quick stroke and he pushes into it.

                “You weren’t lying, you really didn’t have anything underneath…”

                “Why would I lie?”

                “Because you liked the view?”

                “I did like the view,” Bradley says. “Still do.”

                “Not bad from where I’m standin’ either… This place have a shower?”

                “Yeah, why?”

                “Hmm. Just thinking… Two birds, one stone. Maybe three birds. We use the shower, then cleanup is easy, and there’s usually a handy variety of body washes we could use as lube…”

                “They’re not proper lube…”

                “If you’re trying to tell me you’ve never jerked off in a shower using body wash to glide the way I’ll know you’re a big fat liar.”

                Bradley nods, shrugs, concedes the point, starts moving them to the bathroom, because it’s an apartment, it’s not any further than the bedroom. He’s going to have to buy Hilary the biggest fucking gift basket. He reaches and turns the water on, grabs a couple more towels and then wraps his arm around Jake’s waist, runs his hand over the front of his underwear, feels the firm erection twitch against his hand. Kisses him again then hooks fingers in the elastic and carefully pulls his underwear down and goes to his knees at the same time.

                “Jesus Christ you’re a sight…”

                “Good one I hope…”

                “Fuck yes…”

                He licks up the length of Jake’s cock, nuzzles and licks at his balls, doesn’t comment on the very closely cropped hair. Then he licks his lips, gathers saliva, and wets his mouth, then in one smooth move sucks Jake down, reminding himself to breathe through his nose. It’s been a while since he’s done this, but he has always considered himself decently proficient. He knows how to not choke and gag at least.

                “Fuck.”

                He digs his fingers into the flesh of Jake’s thighs, he’s not going to be able to do this long, doesn’t intend to, only until the shower is warmed up, his knees are not a fan of the hard tiles. He bobs his head, sucks and moves his tongue against the head in twirling pressure before going back down. Jake’s running fingers through his hair, gentle, like he’s patting him and it’s nice and he hums in appreciation, which apparently feels good judging from the groan Jake makes.

                He stands, keeps his hands on Jake’s body, grabs at warm flesh and kisses a path up his body then they’re both stepping under the spray, kissing, hands moving on each other now. Bradley likes this look on him, hair darker when wet, water running down his body, eyes dark and intent on Bradley and he grins and then lets Jake press against him, turns him to face the wall so he's tucked behind him, hand reaching around to stroke his cock where it’s hard between his legs.

                “Thighs together, nice and tight… going to slide my dick between them.”

                Oh yeah, he can get into that.

                He sucks in a deep breath, braces an arm against the cold tile of the shower wall, glad that the shower is big enough for this. Fingers slick with something that smells like tropical flowers run between his ass cheeks and thighs and he groans, pushes back; feels the press of Jake’s body against him as his hard cock slides over Bradley’s ass. He moans, can’t remember the last time he had a shower with someone. Probably his last girlfriend, before she decided that no boyfriend was better than a boyfriend that was never there.

                He’d forgotten how good it felt, to have someone’s hands on him, accompanied with warm water, the soapy slide. Yeah, it definitely helps ease the way, Jake’s fingers soaping up the skin between his thighs and as Jake presses his cock between them in one smooth push he lets out another long slow hum of appreciation.

                “Fuck yes…”

                “Mmm. Yeah. You feel good…”

                Jake’s rolling his hips in a smooth grind, rhythmic as he runs his hands over Bradley’s back and sides, his hand coming round to brush too-soft like a tease on Bradley’s cock. It’s not fast enough or hard enough, but the pace increases in slow increments, and he can feel the tension in Jake growing like his own. Building up and closer and closer. The water is starting to feel cooler against his skin, but there’s still plenty of steam so he figures his skin is just getting hotter, his cock harder, skin tighter. Thighs trembling with the effort of keeping them tightly clenched together. Jake’s fingers are tight on his hips, he’s going to have bruises and he groans at the thought.

                Jake’s body starts to move faster against him, and he imagines what it’d feel like to get fucked like this, he’d like to find out, maybe in the morning he can go and find supplies while they figure out Jake’s whole key thing… His vision goes black and he realizes he’s closed his eyes at the feel of Jake’s hand closing around his cock, grasp firm and moving with one objective and Bradley lets himself surge toward it.

                “More. Come on Jake, please, need more… come on.”

                “Yeah yeah…”

                There’s a couple more minutes, nothing but the sound of slick wet flesh and the air in their lungs coming in pants, adding to the sticky heat of the shower. He places his hand over Jake’s, takes over so Jake can chase his own pleasure and it doesn’t take him long, the sound and feel of Jake against him, making his orgasm hit fast and he groans, leg muscles twitching and fuck he hopes Jake is close, because he’s going to go boneless any second. He apparently really fucking needed that.

                “Oh shit…”

                He feels Jake shaking against him, feels his come against his balls and on his thighs before it’s rinsed away by the water and he slowly lets his leg muscles relax as Jake pulls away, although his hands are all over him, as is his mouth. They both seem to come down and it’s soft and slow, hands washing gently and they’re both a little giggly as they also attempt at towel drying each other. Bradley is feeling really fucking tired, the time of night suddenly slamming into him double-time with the assist of the orgasm.

                “Fuck… that was great. Sleep now though right? It’s what? Two? Three?”

                “Yeah. Somewhere between there. Close enough. Sleep sounds good. Come on, you look like you’ll make an excellent cuddler.”

                “No mention of taking the sofa now huh?”

                “Oh no, I’m going to keep you warm all night…”

“Good, I look forward to it. You want to borrow anything, my bags just over there…”

                “I’m good for now thanks. Sleep.”

                “Yeah, okay. Sleep.”

PART TWO (Featuring six potential endings)

------------- THE POSSIBLE ENDINGS -----------

In all following scenarios Jake has left in the morning prior to Bradley waking wearing borrowed clothes of Bradley’s (and because he's an idiot and should have just waited for Bradley to wake up, but Jake's going to go and try catch Javy as he heads to the gym...).

Jake leaves in the morning but texts himself from Bradley’s phone so he already has a number. No angst, they’re boyfriends now.

Jake finds Bradley’s phone dead so leaves a written message. Kittens rip it up and Bradley never finds it. They both assume the worst. Bad sad pining idiots. (Or this but then followed by either C or D).

Upon not hearing from Bradley Jake returns to apartment, finds Hilary, assumes further worst, but then Hilary is like HELL NO and gives him Bradley’s number. They realize message leaving was thwarted by Oreo and Cracker, minimal angst, they’re boyfriends now.

Jake assumes it’s a one-night thing. Never hears from Bradley. Little heartbroken. Then he’s working out at the gym and wearing the old tshirt he borrowed from Bradley and then this guy is asking him where he got the tshirt… It’s Mav who is like “I recognise Goose’s old clothes that Bradley has been so attached to, why TF is this stranger wearing it?” So Mav takes Jake home and is all like “Bradley! I have something for you!”

#Hangster #Sereshaw #writing and wrangling woes #Top Gun Maverick fanfic #come on baby light my fire

[star-going-supernova]

Idea: Vanessa and Gregory find Cassie as she makes it out of the pizzaplex, barely able to walk due to exhaustion.

Tumblr generated prompt number 25! We’re down to the last few now! So for this one, the elevator didn’t fall, because if it did, I think exhaustion would’ve been the least of Cassie’s problems, lol. Anyway. Best friends, best friends, best friends!!!

Atlas

Gregory tore into the pizzaplex, ignoring Vanessa’s calls for him to wait. He’d made this place bow to his whims once, he could do it again, and all he cared about was his friend, lost somewhere in the darkness. Nothing would stand in his way.

The last thing Cassie had been able to say before her walkie-talkie fizzled out, batteries dead, was that the elevator had taken her to a hallway she didn’t recognize. So she at least wasn’t in the bowels of the building, where evil things lingered even after being laid to rest. 

With only a flashlight and his memory to guide him, Gregory scrambled over debris and through wreckage, focused only on making his way closer to Cassie. 

Guilt ate at him. Sure, it hadn’t actually been him luring Cassie to her near-doom, but it had been his voice and their friendship that led her there. And he hadn’t been fast enough to stop her, hadn’t been able to steal back the connection to her walkie-talkie until it was very nearly too late. He dashed away his angry tears with a fist and forged onwards. 

The pizzaplex was creepily silent but for some dripping and creaking. His time lost in its walls had been full of music and Freddy’s voice and the animatronics’ annoying chatter. 

He almost dared any of the bots to try and stop him. If they thought he was ruthless before…

As he broke through a locked door near the raceway, he started to call out Cassie’s name every minute or two, hoping he was close. He didn’t know exactly where the elevator was, but based on Cassie’s description, he stuck to the employee hallways. 

Coming to a stairwell in his frantic search, he shoved through the door, leaned over the railing and hollered, “Cassie!” at the top of his lungs. It echoed eerily. 

He held his breath, straining to listen. Please, he thought, please, please, be here, be close.

After an agonizingly long moment of silence, there came a faint clack clack clack from below.

Gregory all but hurled himself down the stairs. He didn’t even pause to worry that it wasn’t Cassie, that it was a trick from some bot or another. If it was, they’d regret it. 

“Cassie!” he shouted, pausing between floors a few flights down. “Where are you?” 

The clacking was louder this time, close, and sounded like plastic on concrete. Following it to the next lowest door, which he nearly yanked off its hinges. 

He cast his flashlight beam down the pitch-black corridor, and there, curled against the wall, was Cassie. Her face was shiny with tears and smeared with dirt; the rest of her was coated in dust and grime. Her sweater was ripped in places and dotted with blood here and there. She was missing a shoe. 

“Gregory,” she croaked, her voice hoarse and cracking. Her breathing was labored, and fear speared through him. She hadn’t mentioned being that badly hurt. 

He let out a pained noise and shot to her side without any conscious thought. In one hand, she gripped her flashlight with white knuckles. 

“It died,” she whispered, seeing him glance at it. “And it was so dark, I… I couldn’t…” Her shoulders shook. 

After setting his own on the floor so it shone upward, illuminating the ceiling to best spread the light, Gregory scooted closer and pulled her into a hug. She dropped her flashlight and wrapped her arms over his shoulders, tucking her face against his neck. He squeezed as tight as he dared, and it was an awful thought, but he hoped her her heavy breaths came from panic instead of injury. At the very least, she didn’t wince when he tugged her closer like he wanted them to sink into each other so thoroughly that no one would be able to tell them apart. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into her messy hair. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” 

Cassie shook her head. “It wasn’t your fault.” 

Gregory whined. But wasn’t it? 

“And—you’re here. You came,” she said, relieved and awed all at once. Not surprised, though, thank goodness—that probably would’ve carved Gregory’s heart out of his chest, if she’d been surprised that he wouldn’t just leave her there in the dark ruins of the pizzaplex. 

“Duh,” he mumbled. 

She giggled tiredly. “I want to leave,” she said. But she didn’t let go, so neither did Gregory. 

Gregory’s watch crackled after a long few minutes of their quiet breathing. “Gregory?” Freddy asked, the connection staticky. They’d left him in the car. “Vanessa texted me. She said you ran off, and now she cannot find you.” 

“I’m fine,” he said. “I found Cassie. I, uh, don’t really know where we are other than near the raceway. We’ll head back for the lobby, okay?” 

Freddy sighed, fondly exasperated. “I will let her know.” The call silenced with a click. 

“I don’t think I can walk,” Cassie admitted. “Not, not because I’m hurt. I just.” She sighed, sagging more heavily against him. “I’m so tired.” 

“I’ll carry you,” Gregory said, suddenly beyond desperate to get Cassie out of the building by whatever means necessary. 

Dubiously, she protested, “It’s a long way—”

“I’ll carry you,” he repeated. “Piggyback.” 

After a pause, Cassie nodded. They let go of each other with extreme reluctance, and Gregory turned around and settled into a crouch. It seemed to take all of Cassie’s remaining strength to stand and climb on his back. He passed her the flashlight.

They were really close in size—Gregory barely had an inch on Cassie—but as he carefully stood and secured his hold under her knees, he knew he’d carry her as far and as long as she needed him to, no matter how tired he got. 

“I’ve got you, Cassie,” he said, heading back to the stairwell. She leaned her head against his, exhausted. “You’re safe now.” 

She hummed. “Duh,” she whispered. 

He snickered, and she did too, and they went into the ruins together. 

#i answered a thing #anonymous #fnaf fic #fnaf ruin #star's stories #life and times of star

[angel-gone-south]

Final Girl

Killer! Stan w/ Final Girl! Reader

gender neutral despite the term. lots of death in this one (guns, falling, etc). assault, technically. read with caution.

°•. ☾ .•°

You limped through the halls of the abandoned building, desperately sobbing and wailing.

“Come on, doll, I haven’t even done anything to you! You know I never would.”

“F-fuck off Stan! You’re a fucking m-monster!” You called over your shoulder.

“Baby, baby, baby. You’re such a sweet little thing, complimenting me like that.” He laughed, sending a chill through you- and, embarrassingly, butterflies to your stomach.

“I always liked you best, you know. If you hadn’t been so fucking persistent, I wouldn’t have to do this.”

°•. ☾ .•°

Things still didn’t make sense. Stan had innocently invited you and his friends out for Halloween, to the top floor of the abandoned South Park asylum in the woods. He brought weed and booze, and everyone was having a good time. He had even convinced his goody-two shoes ex-girlfriend to come.

Sometime in the night, the powerful flashlight Stan brought conveniently had run out of battery. When it sprung to life (thanks to Kyle’s over-prepared nature) some of the group was dead on the floor or missing. Everybody started accusing each other, but you were an easy voice of reason.

Stan had slow clapped when you, Kyle, Kenny and Butters had figured out it had to be him.

“Real well done, folks. Honestly brilliant,” He said, sarcastic, as he moved out from the shadows. “Just how do you expect to get out of this, though?” He had grinned wolfishly, producing his father’s pistol from his pocket.

“S-Stan, put that thing away,” Kyle’s shaky voice wailed. “Please?”

“Hmmm…” Stan tapped his chin with the barrel, pretending to think about it. “No.”

The bullet went practically between the ginger’s eyes as the shot rang out. Kenny and Butters gaped, the latter shaking his head in fear.

“A-aw hamburgers. Fuck.” He backed up, which turned out to be the wrong move, as all the black haired boy had to do was give him a little shove- and he tumbled out a sixth story window, unfortunately landing on his neck with a sickening crack.

While Stan was distracted, Kenny had managed to tug you along, trying to escape but getting turned around in the dark and maze-like halls as you ran.

“I never thought Stan would fuckin’ snap,” He grumbled, almost more annoyed than anything. “What have any of us ever done to warrant this?”

“I know you’re still fucking here.” Stan shouted, as Ken pulled you into a room. He hid behind the door, ushering you to hide in an old cabinet.

When Stan’s heavy breathing and clunky footfalls sounded right outside the room, you had to cover your mouth. You nearly whimpered as you heard the two of them scuffle, Kenny having bravely ambushed the killer boy from behind the door. When you heard a body drop, it didn’t really matter who it was. You ran.

Unfortunately, hurrying down a flight of stairs can and will fuck up your ankle! Who the hell knew.

So there you were, exchanging words with a killer as you slammed on the door to the stairwell, sobbing.

“Come on, baby. You thought I wouldn’t lock that? Oh, you’re so cute I almost wanna leave you alive. Nobody has to know it was me, right?” He chuckled, and you whipped around to face him as he pinned you against the door.

“S-Stan, you killed our friends…”

“Aw, honey…” He shook his head, wrenching a knee between your legs as he squeezed your hip with one hand. The other moved to place a long hunting blade to your neck. “I sure did. But you’re so fucked in the head, you’re still fucking blushing under me.”

“N-no, no no get off-!” He shushed you, cooing and digging the knife deeper, enough to draw a drop or two of blood to spill down your throat.

“I think I might just have my fun with you.”

°•. ☾ .•°

ummmmm dont think too hard about it guys…………

#➳ Halloween Special 2023♡ #south park #south park fanfiction #south park x y/n #south park x reader #south park x you #sp x reader #stan marsh x y/n #stan marsh x you #stan marsh x reader #stan x reader #sp stan marsh #south park stan #stan marsh #south park stan marsh

[lucerothings1]

tyler lawrence gray x short/bottom!mreader

tyler and m/n have complicated relationship(they hookup but Tyler doesn’t want to make it official) so when m/n started dancing with another guy Tyler gets jealous…

Warnings: gay sex, top Tyler, bottom reader, sorta jealous sex, oral, fingering, missionary.

Summary: you and Tyler where really only fuck buddies until he finds you one day dancing with someone and becomes jealous.

Tonight was finally the weekend you had been waiting to go to a party. That’s what you where actually doing getting really to go out finally it had been awhile now so you were finally really as you walked out your house and drove off to a house party of one of your friends.

As you arrived you set your sight yo the bar having to walk past all the other people as you went to go ever a drink. “Hey cutie haven’t seen you around here” a random guy said to you as you started to vibe to the music that was bounced off the walls.

“I Don’t go out to sketchy house party often” you said back “Well do you think I’m sketchy” “don’t know you well enough to say” you’d aid back “well can I get a dance to get to know me” he said as you nodded back in agreement.

As he got a hold of your hand pulling you threw the crowd of people as you started to dance with him as you felt a strong stair on you from your left as you looked being meet with a mad looking Tyler.

He and you had never really had a relationship to say but you where what people call fuck buddies in a way only sleeping with each other you had finally gotten tired of him treating you like that so you but a stop to it as you learned to respect yourself.

As you he started to walk to you as he pulled you from your hand tugging you up a flight of stairs as the guy you had been dancing with stayed quiet not sure what was happening.

“What the fuck was that” Tyler yelled at you as he pushed you in to a room and slammed you into the wall causing you to look up since he towered over you.

“What do you mean what the fuck I was dancing with a guy that has no reason for you to be jealous” “I’m not fucking jealous I don’t care but it looked like you too where basically fucking down there” “oh so you know all about people fucking don’t you fucking sex addict” you yelled as you shoved passed him trying to reach to the door before Tyler pushed you to him as he locked his lips on yours as he reached behind you and locked the door.

As you kissed him back completely forgetting why you had stopped doing this to begin with as he picked you up and you wrapped your legs around him as he took you to the bed of the room and laid you on it as he took off his shirt as you watched his chiseled body as you took of your shirt off as well and grabbed him from his waist as you pushed him onto the bed and begun yo take off his belt as he kicked of his shoes.

“Finish taking off your clothes” he said as he begun to take off his pants and underwear as well as you took off yours. As he laid on the bed with his legs spread open as you climbed on the bed in between his leg.

“Oh fuck come on open up that pretty little mouth of your baby boy” he said as you opened up your mouth for him taking in his hard 12 inch length as he got a handful of your hair as he pushed you down his cock causing you to gag on him as he took you to his base as you felt his pubs on your chin as you started to stroke your member to relive it.

“Oh fuck baby boy yeah suck my big cock” he said as he started to fuck your throat. “Oh fuck that’s good baby boy” he said as he pulled you off his cock as you could finally breath fully again.

“Ah fuck baby come on” he said as he pushed you down on to the bed as he lifted up your legs and spitted on his cock and your entrance. “Aren’t you gonna prep me first” “No I’m not slutty boys that rub there ass on random guys don’t get to prep” “but wai-ah fuuuck” you yelled as he shoved his whole length passed your entrance and begun to rock his hips in and out.

“Ah- ah-oh fuuuuckkk” you continued to yell as he begun to fuck you dumb and got ahold of your throat holing you “fuck yeah you love my cock fucking your tight ass don’t you huh now are you gonna continue to rub your ass on more idiots or do I need to punish you more huh answer me” he said as he continued to have a hold on your throat and fuck you on his cock.

Since you couldn’t even form word all you could do was nod in agreement which just caused Tyler to grin and fuck your even harder. “Oh fuck ima cum” he said picking up the pace by holding onto your waist with both his hands as he let go of your throat letting you get air once again “oh-ahhhh fuck ima cum” you moaned obit as you began to stroke yourself as you cummed on top of your chest.

“Oh fuck yeah baby take my fucking load” tyler yelled as he exploded inside you and painted your walls white as he stopped and pulled out of you as you felt his load start leaking out of you. “Oh fuck I’m sorry I got jealous” “HA I fucking new it” you yelled out teasing at him “okay okay yeah you knew but it just” “ you don’t know how to ask me to be your boyfriend” “ how’d you know” “oh please I could tell so are you gonna ask me or am I just gonna continue to be your cum dump” “okay M/n well you be my boyfriend” he said as you smiled and nodded as you pulled him on to a kiss as you guys stayed like that a while before getting up and changing as you both made your way to the party again.

#gay #gay smut #lucerothings1 #tyler lawrence gray #Tyler Lawrence gray x male reader

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

I'm here again, if this is okay to you👀👀

41: “I could spend years between your legs, having only your cunt to sustain me.”, Clark Kent, 2: Friends to lovers,alpha Clark and beta reader please🥺🥺

Again, congrats 1000 followers 🎉🎉🌹🌹💖💖

Changes, Time to Face the Strange

Alpha!Clark Kent x beta?reader

Time may change me, but you can’t change time.

Warnings: slight co-dependency, mentions of chronic illness and painful ovulation, smut, surprises, little bit of angst but not really, references to sex toys, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex while ovulating + cream-pie = recipe for disaster but we love it, claiming, knotting

WC: 3.4k

A/N: Title is from the David Bowie song “Changes”

A/N 2: I kind of switched up the request a bit, I hope you don’t mind!

Minors DNI

41: “I could spend years between your legs, having only your cunt to sustain me.” 2: Friends to lovers 2: A/B/O

1000 Follower Celebration

Scents were always terribly overwhelming for Clark. The constant stream of natural perfume from the thousands of omegas and other alphas in the city gave Clark debilitating headaches if he didn’t force himself to ‘cleanse his pallet’ so to speak. That’s where his best friend came in.

You. The beta next door that had moved with him to Metropolis from Kansas. The pair of you were inseparable since you met in day care. Always holding hands, joined at the hip, you did everything together, barely able to stand being apart for more than a few hours. More times than she could count, Martha had found you in Clark’s bed or received a call from your parents that he was in yours.

And when his powers started showing up, you stood by him, supported him through it all. Everyone in your town expected you to be mates, the way you loved each other unconditionally, how seamlessly you fit into each other’s lives, like it was meant to be. But when Clark presented as an alpha, getting his first rut in the middle of your homecoming dance (you were of course his date), and you continued on without a heat or a rut, you knew it was too good to be true that you could so easily find your one true love.

Admittedly, both of you were heartbroken. You knew, deep in your hearts, that you were soulmates. Even if your biologies weren’t compatible, it didn’t stop you from being the closest of friends. You bought an apartment right across the hall from him, barely used since you spent most nights in his place anyway.

You respected each other’s relationships, but they never lasted long. Too much jealousy from the partners but you both weren’t willing to give up your friendship for anyone. So, you settled with being single the rest of your lives just so you could have each other.

Clark’s senses felt muddled and overwhelmed from the day. As he climbed up the last flight of stairs in his apartment building, he made a b-line straight for your door, shoving his key (it had the superman symbol on it) into the lock and barging straight in. Immediately, the pounding behind his eyes dulled as the artificial scent of your apartment overcame him. It was a mixture of clean laundry and freshly baked cookies, which you always had in a novelty batman cookie jar on your counter.

It was comforting. The lack of pheromones soothed him, his shoulders slumping as the stress of the day was washed away. “Bunny? You home?” He already knew you were but he was trying to be polite. “In here.” Came a weak call from the bathroom. He slipped off his suit coat, leaving it and his satchel bag on the kitchen counter.

The door to your small ensuite was open wide and he could clearly see you laying in the tub, steam rising from the full bath. The wet washcloth over your eyes and the very full glass of red wine in your grasp could only mean one thing. “Cramps flaring up again?” He asked, already knowing the answer.

Kneeling down on the tile floor, Clark rested his arms on the porcelain, studying your face. His blue eyes flicked down to your body which was covered by the thick layer of foam you always used. He could see just a hint of your soft curves through breaks in the bubbles. Sometimes he couldn’t believe you were a beta. With thick thighs and hips, as well as a plump belly and wide waist, you had the body of an ideal omega, just the same as he was considered the ideal alpha.

You nodded, downing the alcohol before answering. “Yeah, they started coming on earlier today. I had to leave work early. But at least it isn’t as bad as the ones I get on my period.” 

His eyebrows scrunched together. “Why didn’t you call me?” You sighed, pulling the washcloth from your eyes, which were puffy. You had obviously been crying from the pain. You were diagnosed with an unknown chronic illness when you were 15. The agony you experienced twice a month broke his heart, you tended to hole yourself up, not moving, desperately trying to ignore the stabbing pain in your gut. 

“You had that big interview with Bruce Wayne today, I didn’t want to distract you.” You placed the glass down by his feet in favour of cupping his chilled jaw, already feeling his 5 o’clock shadow. “Yeah right,” He rolled his eyes, “You just didn’t want to be a ‘burden’” He lifted his hands, making finger quotes, which caused you to giggle.

“I’m alright bubs, I just needed a hot bath and some wine. And take out?” Your thumb rubbed the apple of his cheek. “I guess you want me to go pick some up huh?” “I mean, you are the one who can fly.” He chuckled, kissing your fingers. He grabbed your glass as he stood back up, his knees popping.

“I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

——————

With a full belly and your comfort movie playing on the television, you felt that you could finally relax. Clark had literally turned you into a burrito, completely bundling you up in the fluffiest blanket he could find and placing you between his legs on the couch so you could lean into his strong chest and his hands placed on your big stomach, applying steady pressure exactly where you needed it.

His nose was buried in your neck, inhaling what he referred to as your ‘non-scent’. Since he presented, Clark loved to tell you about all the scents people had. But he always said that yours was his favourite. He described it as a summer breeze. Clean and refreshing that immediately calmed him down and soothed his nerves. 

You doubted that he could smell anything since betas don’t have a scent but you indulged him anyway. You sighed as the pain finally let up. It was in moments like these that you let yourself pretend for a minute, that you could actually be mates, that he could love you in a way that only an alpha could love an omega. You felt cursed and let down by your body.

Clark must’ve sensed your spiraling thoughts (you had a sneaking suspicion that Kryptonians were telepathic but he would constantly deny it) because he kissed the soft skin of your neck and raised his head. “Penny for your thoughts?” You just shrugged. He didn’t like that.

“Come on, teeeeellllllllll meeeeeeee.” He whined shaking you in your blanket prison. “Clark! It’s nothing!” You giggled spinning in his grasp slightly so you could look into his bright blue eyes. “Why don’t I believe you~” He sing songed, squeezing your sides tightly. Snuggling back into his chest, you took a deep breath.

“I wish I was an omega sometimes, y’a know.” You muttered, wiggling a hand out of the blanket to play with the buttons on his shirt. “Why bunny?” You knew Clark could hear the loud thumps of your heart. He looked down at you with such concern and love that it made your chest ache. “Cause then we could be together.” It came out as a whisper, a secret you had held on to for so long. A confession that had been eating away at you since the moment he presented.

Cupping your cheek, he kissed the tip of your nose, his thin lips warm, if not slightly chapped against your skin. “Why don’t we try?” Your teary eyes looked up at him, wide with shock. “B-but what about your ruts? A-and if an omega comes along and you-“ You were cut off by a fierce kiss that knocked the breath from your lungs.

With a quick move, Clark was now above you, his hands planted on the cushion behind your head. The blanket had been pulled away from your body so he could nestle his hips between your thick thighs. His lips devoured yours as his tongue snaked into your mouth. You moaned into him as he put more of his weight onto you, pushing his hips forward. You could feel the heat coming from him, you were burning for him, just the same as he burned for you.

You had kissed Clark before, when you were both 12 and wondering what it would be like. But it was nothing like this. Lust and desire poured from him as he grinded his aching cock against your covered pussy, his tongue battling for dominance against yours. Your lungs screamed for air but you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away from the alpha, not when you were finally getting what you always wanted. 

Propping himself on his forearms, he dragged his head up, capturing your bottom lip in his pearly whites, biting down just hard enough to send a shiver of pleasured pain down your spine. His azure eyes were now black with lust, his chest heaving, even if he didn’t necessarily need to breathe. “You have been all I wanted. My ruts don’t matter, I’ve used toys practically all my life. And I’ll keep doing it if it means that I can have you.” He nuzzled his nose onto your own.

“But I can’t satisfy you like an omega can.” “But I love you, not some omega. We are soulmates and we can make this work. I promise.” You wanted to protest more, terrified of getting hurt but the way that Clark was now kissing up your neck combined with your usual horniness from ovulating, your body was thrumming with anticipation and need. He nipped your earlobe before whispering. “I love you, so much Bunny.”

You snapped.

Your ankles locked around his taut ass, pushing him into you as you rolled your hips up. “Take me to bed.” You whimpered, hands running up his muscular back. Clark groaned into your neck. “As you wish.”

Pulling you into his arms, he strode across the apartment with purpose, maybe using a bit of super speed. But who could blame him, the most beautiful girl in the world had just asked him to take her to bed while grinding on his cock. He shivered as you lathered his throat with kisses and bites, like you were trying to mark him. And he fucking loved it.

Your hands buried in his black hair, tugging on it with all your might but he only felt a slight burn in his scalp that made him throb in his work pants. You bounced on the bed as Clark threw you down. He lost no time, pulling off his shirt and letting it fall to the floor, his pants quickly following. Trying to keep up, you yanked your top up and threw it over the side of the bed, leaving you in your baby blue panties. Your hands slid down your body, fingers slipping under the seam of your underwear. And while maintaining eye contact with the powerful alpha at the end of the bed, you pulled them down your shapely legs. 

Scrunching them up, you threw the damp fabric at him. He caught the panties with ease, bringing them up to his nose and inhaling deeply, his eyes fluttering shut. “Fuck.” He growled and then he pounced.

You were suddenly pinned to the mattress, strong arms wrapping around your thick waist and his head buried between your thighs. “Claaaark!” You moaned, attempting to buck your hips. His grip tightened just enough to keep you in place as he took a long lick up your slit, swallowing your juices. 

“I could spend years between your legs, having only your cunt to sustain me.” He groaned into you, desperately feasting on your pussy. His nose pushed perfectly into your clit, sending a shockwave of pleasure through you. This was better than anything you had ever felt before. 

Better than any fumble in the dark with your high school boyfriend. Better than those moments alone with a vibrator. Your mind was going blank with pleasure. Your hands flew to his curls, pulling him closer to your core as the tension in your tummy grew. Your back arched upwards as a thick finger breached you, crooking perfectly to brush against your g-spot.

“o-oh my god! Oh my god!” You screamed, thighs clamping down on Clark’s head, another finger entering you. “That’s my girl. My good girl.” He moaned, voice muffled against your flesh. He sucked your clit into his hot mouth, winding you tighter and tighter. You thrashed in his grip, messing up the sheets below you as you were frantically driven higher. “‘M gonna cum!”

“Cum for me bunny. Please.” He pleaded. “Clark!” Your legs locked around his neck as you froze, the knot in your belly snapping. He milked your orgasm, fingers thrusting in and out of you as he continued to suckle on your bundle of nerves. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, it was too much and not enough all at once.

As the burn of overstimulation began to thrum within you, the alpha pulled away, face covered in your release, his gorgeous blue eyes dangerously dark. He licked his fingers clean, slurping up your cum like it was some rare delicacy. “You’re the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted.” Your head fell back and you hid your face in your hands. “Claaaark, you can’t say stuff like that!” 

Loosely grabbing your wrists, he pulled your hands away from your face. “Well it’s true.” He smirked, dipping down to kiss you again. Your arms wound around his neck, pulling at the little curls on the back of his skull. His hands skirted down your curves, holding your wide hips tightly, grinding himself into you as the kiss began to heat up.

“Can I make love to you now?” He whispered against your lips like he was waiting for you to say no. “Yes.” You whimpered, heat building up in your belly once more. Without breaking the kiss, Clark dragged down his boxers just enough to free his aching cock. His left hand flew down to his length, squeezing the base tightly, where his knot was already beginning to form, to stave off his release. It was too much for him. You were finally underneath him, completely naked, begging for him to fuck you, the taste of your cunt still lingering on his tongue.

Rubbing the fat head of his cock up and down your slit, he coats himself in your juices. “You sure?” He asks. “Yes please, I need you so bad.” With one last peck to your swollen lips, he pushes in.

“Oh oh fuck.” He groaned, head dropping to the crook of your neck as he steadily fed you his cock. You were stretched beyond belief but he kept going. No sounds escaped you and by the time his knot was firmly pressed against your already full pussy, your eyes had rolled to the back of your skull and your jaw was hanging open, ragged breaths bubbling up from your throat.

Your nails scraped down his back as your legs crossed around his ass, keeping his firm body pinned tightly to your soft one. “Don’t know if I’m going to last, you’re so fucking tight.” His thrusts were soft, like he was terrified of breaking you. Growls rumbled in his chest as he rolled his hips down into you, his lesser desperate to mark you as his, even if it wasn’t possible.

“I love you. God I love you so much. You’re the reason I get up every day. The reason I keep going. I’ve loved you for so long I don’t know what it’s like to not love you, and I never want to know.” He murmured in your ear as his cock delicately pushed against your cervix, making you shiver with ecstasy. The ridge of his tip rubbed against your g-spot with every thrust.

Your teeth clamped down on the slightly raised skin of his scent gland. His hips stuttered. “D-do that again. Harder.” You complied, biting down as hard as possible, knowing there’s no way you could ever physically hurt him. His cock throbbed within you, sending you even higher. His pelvic bone ground into your clit as he moved. 

Your entire body was on fire, your nerves alight with pleasure as his pace sped up, both of you desperate for your ends. With his chest pressed tightly against your own, there wasn’t a centimeter of space between you.

A whine of “Alpha” slipped from your throat and Clark lost all control. He slammed forward and your vision went dark. The headboard slammed into the wall, Clark’s hands tearing your sheets apart as he gripped them. “Omega.” He growled but you couldn’t hear him over the sound of blood rushing through your ears. You were hurtling towards the edge of a giant cliff, both terrified and thrilled for the fall.

The slapping of skin and Clark’s almost feral growls push you further and further up. And then, without any warning, you fall. The band inside you snapped and you screamed. “Alpha!”

A searing pain ripped through your neck but it only served to have another wave of pleasure crash down on you. Your back arched as much as possible beneath the larger man and with one last forceful thrust, he was buried completely inside of you, his knot fully expanded. Clark threw his head back and howled, following you over the edge, his cum practically burning you from the inside as he filled you up with his seed. 

Your eyes widened at the sight of blood coating his mouth, your hand shooting up to your throat, where a large circular wound now lay. “Clark, what did you do?” His eyes finally fluttered open, still hazy from coming down from his high. “Oh god. I-I claimed you.” He delicately touched the torn skin. “I’m so sorry, I think I lost control.” You sat up on your elbows. “But I can’t be claimed. It’s impossible.”

“Ok ok. We’ll figure this out. Let’s start by cleaning you up.” As he tried to pull away, you winced in pain. “No.” You muttered, eyes dropping to your crotch. Clark’s face paled and looked down. You were tied together, his knot plugging you up. “Ok well that’s even more impossible.”

Suddenly, your head shot up. “You called me omega.” “You called me alpha.” He retorted. “That’s not the point. I’m a beta dumbass.” You slapped his hairy peck and tried to pull yourself up even more. Clark wrapped an arm around your plump waist and flipped you so he could sit against the headboard as you straddled him.

“This is impossible right?” You asked, hands planted firmly on his chest. “Yeah but it could be possible that it isn’t.” Your head tilted in confusion. “What do you mean?” “What if everyone thought you were a beta because your heats were not very powerful and your scent was soft. I mean, you started getting those really bad cramps when you started puberty right?” You nodded.

“And you always get really really clingy around this time of month and your scent gets stronger.” “I don’t have a-“ He cuts you off. “You do, I promise you do. Maybe I’m the only one that can smell it because I’m not human.” His thumb rubs the middle of the bite on your shoulder. “And I don’t know about you, but this feels like a scent gland.”

Carefully prodding the tender skin, you felt it, the slightly raised peak of a scent gland. It was small, a lot smaller than a normal omega’s would be, but it was there all the same. “Holy hell.” You felt like your world had done a complete 180. “We always knew we were soulmates so what if your scent and heats were less powerful so that my senses wouldn’t get overwhelmed when we were together.”

“That would explain why I get those cramps for a week every month.” You realised. “I’m an omega!” You squirmed with happiness, embracing your mate tightly as tears of joy streamed from your eyes. Clark chuckled and kissed your head before cupping your cheek so your eyes could meet. “But beta, omega, even alpha. I don’t care about any of that. I love you.” “I love you too.”

The room was bathed in orange light as the sun began to set. “Can we stay like this for a while?” You felt his knot fade but you couldn’t stand the thought of being empty again. He just held you tighter and whispered. “As you wish.”

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[itsthestutterforme]

Good Company 1/2 (Rafe Cameron x black!reader)

Summary: You and Rafe were together since you were in high school. But then Rafe fell into his addiction and he pushed you away from him so you could be safe. But for how long?

Prompt credit @literary-lesbo : “I did care. I used to care.”

Notes: GIF is not mine, all mistakes are my own, dark themes (addiction, murder, suggestive themes), soft!reader, soft!Rafe, a mix of fluff and angst

**

Things between you and Rafe were painful. Complicated at best.

You haven’t spoke to him since he ghosted you, yet you’ve been seeing him everywhere lately. But it wasn’t always like that.

For a while, it was like he disappeared off the island. Until a few months ago when reappeared with a different style and a buzzcut, walking next to what you assumed was his partner in crime.

You’ve seen him at all your usual spots; the grocery store, your local gym, your favorite restaurant. You were starting to think that it was on purpose.

But then again, it is a small town so maybe you were reading too much into it.

You, Sarah, John B, JJ, Kiara, Pope and John’s dad were headed to Barbados to find El Dorado. You and John B approach the plane where Rafe and Sarah were arguing.

“Whatever, Rafe.” Sarah retorts. Rafe grabbed Sarah’s arm and pulled her close.

“That didn’t answer my question,” “Okay! Yes, I’ll make sure he’s safe in Barbados. Jesus, Rafe.”

Sarah rips her arm away from him, stumbling back a bit and John B caught her.

You brushed past him and stepped onto the stairs when you heard Rafe calling after you.

You turned around on the first step of the plane and Rafe approached you, looking at you slightly from the height advantage .

“Can you make sure he gets home safe?” He asks, his desperate gaze meeting yours. “Please,” he adds when you hesitate.

The engine roared to life, shaking the ground beneath your feet but Rafe’s gaze remained on you.

“Okay, I’ll do it.” You agreed and he nods softly. “What’s the point of asking me if you were just going to ask her?” Sarah asks.

“Because I changed my mind. And because I trust her.”

“Get out the way man,” John B says, pushing him to the side to walk up the steps to the plane but Rafe stops him.

“And you. If I hear anything happened to him. I mean anything. I will come after you.” Rafe threatens, shoving John B back a few steps.

“Not the best thing to say to a Pogue, Rafe. Who knows? Maybe the emergency hatch will open and Ward ‘accidentally’ slip out.”

“You son of a bitch!” Rafe grabs John B’s shirt and winds his arm back to hit him.

“Rafe, stop!” Sarah pleads. “Shut the fuck up, Sarah!” He was starting to spiral.

His yells caught Pope and JJ’s attention. You held a hand up to stop them when they try to leave the plane.

Sarah tries to pull Rafe’s arm back so he doesn’t hit John B and he shoves her to the ground.

You stepped off the stairs and approached Rafe and John B spewing threats at each other. “Rafe, you asked me to take care of Ward. Me, not him.”

You notice Rafe’s grip loosen the longer you spoke. “I will get him where needs to go. Just trust me.” You add, gently touching his arm.

Rafe lets John B go and you motion for him to get on the plane. Rafe smooths a hand over his head and started to pace. “Do you trust me?” You asked.

“I trust you,” he answers softly. “Then leave. Go back to whatever is you were doing and don’t stress over things you can’t control.”

“Okay,” he repeats to himself. You waited for him to turn and walk to his car before getting on the plane.

“What the fuck was that?” JJ asks when the flight assistant closes the door of the plane.

“It was just Rafe being Rafe,” John B explains. “But what I don’t get is why he trusts you?” He adds, eyeing you suspiciously.

“She always could calm him down when he got bad,” Sarah says, rubbing her elbow. “What the hell does that mean?” JJ asks.

“From the looks of it, he hasn’t gotten any better. Has he?” Sarah’s silence told you everything you needed to know.

“Are you okay?” You asked, sitting down next to her. “Yeah, it’s just a sprain. I think.” She says with a pained smile.

“You’re really not going to answer our questions?” JJ prods.

“Okay, fine. We had a history. We used to date.” You answer coolly.

“So you’re a Kook then?” JJ asks, adjusting in his seat. “JJ,” Kiara scolds.

“What? When you date a Kook, you become a Kook like them. They never want you to be you. They’ll want to change you to become more like them.” JJ explains.

“I’m not going to defend myself to you. I used to date Rafe and now I don’t. It’s that simple,” you said with a sigh.

Sarah knew a lot about the life you’ve had before you met Rafe. The only one who knew more was Ward. It wasn’t that simple at all.

Before any of them could respond, you stood from your chair and grabbed a bottle of tequila.

“Y/N,” Sarah calls after you as you head toward the back of the plane. “Great job, JJ.” Kiara says sarcastically.

**

You wiped your sweaty palms on your jean shorts, letting out a shaky breath. Your mind drifted to the haunting sight of Ward bleeding out below you.

Everything happened so fast. John Sr. fought one of the armed men for the gun and a shot rung out.

You were pushed out of the way, your shoulder skimming the rough bark of the palm tree on the way down.

The wind was knocked out of you when your body hit the ground. Your vision blurred a moment as you attempted to sit up on the ground.

Your eyes widened when your things came to focus. John B was yelling for his dad over the massive ledge the group was forced into by the armed men.

Kiara was holding a crying Sarah and you followed her gaze to Ward with a bullet in his chest.

He let out a pained wheeze, blood spluttering out of his mouth. He reached for you and your limped over to him, taking into his hand into yours.

Tears threatened to leave your eyes when you saw the torturous expression on his face.

He was in a lot of pain and there was nothing you could do about it besides hold his hand.

“I’m so sorry, Ward.” You whimper. He attempts to speak but it came out as a grunt. He squeezed your hand for dear life.

“Y-you tell Rafe that I’m proud of him. M’proud of you too.” His shaky voice rattled in your head since the JJ and Pope dragged you back into the plane after you begged them to help bury Ward.

A seagull’s call brought you out of your thoughts. You wiped away some stray tears trailing down your cheeks.

You were parked in front of the Tannyhill house but haven’t had the courage of getting out of the car yet. But delaying telling Rafe isn’t helping anyone.

You slid out of the car and locked the doors, rubbing your arms anxiously as you neared the front door. You rapped on the door and took a few steps back.

Barry opens the door with a gun in his free hand. You’re not phased at all by the sight.

“Is Rafe here?” “Sure is, baby. What, you his girlfriend or something?”

You cleared your throat when his mocha colored eyes raked your form. “I’m.. just a friend,” you added softly.

“Come on in,” he opens the door wider and clicked the safety on before sliding the gun under his belt.

You followed Barry into the living room where Rafe had papers scattered on the table, separating his attention between looking at a paper and typing something in his computer.

“Who is it, Barry?” Rafe questions, his lips parting when he looked up from his computer to see you.

“Yeah, I had a similar reaction when I first saw her. You’re a dumbass for letting her go, Country Club.”

“What are you doing here, Y/N?” He looks back to the computer to key something in.

Your silence alarmed him; he watched as you continued to rub the sides of your arms.

“We need to talk,” You finally spoke and Rafe looked at you quizzically. He slowly shut his computer and stands from his chair.

“That doesn’t sound too good,” Barry retorts. “I’ll call you later to talk about the investments.”

“Alright man. Nice to meet you, Y/N.” You gave him a small smile when he looked to you before leaving.

Glancing at Rafe, who was leaning against the dining room table with his arms crossed and his eyes locked in on you.

“What happened?” He asks, breaking the silence. His heart spiked when you let out a shaky breath.

“We landed in the field down the way from Ward’s property. And there were armed men waiting for us when we got there. I don’t know how but they were able to trace your family’s funds to that property.”

“Fucking Singh. I’m going to kill him.”

“There were two men and they pinned us on a ledge. It took all of us to overpower one of them and John Sr. tried to take the gun away from the other one but a shot got off. Ward pushed me out of the way and t-the bullet hit his chest,” you continued with tears blurring in your eyes.

“No. No, I don’t believe you.”

“I held his hand until his last breath and I buried him. He’s gone, Rafe. S-so is Rose. Wheezie was the only one left alive.” You said, unable to keep yourself together at the last part.

“Where is she now?” “I called Rose’s sister. Turns out she was on vacation in Barbados.”

“I trusted you,” he says, baring his teeth making you grimace.

“He wanted me to tell you that he was proud of you. Of us.” You uttered, taking a step to console him but he stands from his spot.

“Get out,” “Rafe, I don’t think-“ “GET. OUT.” You jumped at his outburst and rushing out of the room.

“FUCK!” He yells followed by glass shattering and a loud thud. You swung the door open to run back to your car when the house fell silent.

Stilling holding the door in your hand, you looked over your shoulder when you heard faint sobs.

Against your own judgements, you walked back into the house. “Rafe?”

You took cautious steps down the hall until you reached the dining room where you previously stood.

Rafe sat on the couch with his face in his hands, his chest heaving as he cried. You repeat his name but he doesn’t acknowledge you.

You slowly approached him until you were standing directly in front of him.

“He had to be dying for him to say he was proud of me. I’ve waited my whole life for him to say that and he never did.” He pointed, pulling away from his hands to stare up at you.

“Hell he told you he was proud of you more than he told me.” “I never meant for any of this to happen, Rafe.”

“I know. And it wasn’t fair for me to blame you when it was out of your control. I’m sorry.” He apologized, throwing you completely off guard.

He’s never apologized to you before. “I don’t know why I turned around. I..” he pressed his face into your stomach, letting out a deep sigh.

Your hand naturally rested on the back of his neck, caressing the skin where his hairline starts.

“I guess it’s because I know what it’s like to lose someone and to go through the pain alone. And I don’t want that to happen to you.” You explained softly.

He lifts his head up so his chin was against your sternum. A breath hitched in your throat from how close your faces were.

“Y/N, I know I fucked up when I-“ “I’m not here to reconcile. I don’t need you to explain anything to me, Rafe. I found closure on my own and anything you say will just confuse me.”

You turned away to leave but he caught your wrists, holding them gently. As he stood, he pressed your hands against his chest.

“Just please hear me out,” he pleads, waiting for you to nod before continuing.

“I was addicted to coke and I was an alcoholic. A dangerous mix and I didn’t want you caught up in that. I knew you would fight to stick around because you didn’t me to feel like you abandoned me. But I had to change for myself and I needed to do that alone.”

You took in the weight of his words silence. You could feel his heart pattering under your hands.

This doesn’t mean we’re on good terms,” “That’s fair but you deserved to know.”

He looks so drained, and a part of you felt guilty for possibly being the reason why. A shimmer around his neck caught your eye.

You had first noticed it at the airstrip but didn’t think it was the right time to ask.

You pulled the gold chain from under his dress shirt. To your surprise, it was the necklace you got him for Valentine’s Day. A small plate with your first initial engraved into it.

“You still wear it?” You asked in a hushed tone. “Of course I still wear it,” “I.. I didn’t think you cared,” “I did care. I used to care.. I do care.”

“I’d like to stay with for a little while, if that’s okay.” You said after a long pause.

His body relaxed a bit from your words. You took his hand and led him to sit down next to you.

You laid on your back and opened your arms for him. He hesitated a moment before sliding in between your legs and eased his head on your chest.

He hums softly when you traced patterns on his back. His tears stained the crop top you were wearing. The sound of his sniffles became more prominent in the room.

You remained quiet for a long while, wanting to give him the space to be vulnerable without being judged. He slides a hand under your back to pull you closer to him.

If that was even possible.

“I’m here, Rafe,”

#black!reader #rafe cameron x black!reader #rafecameron

[k-evans-reads]

In Living Color

Chapter 10 - Part One

Summary: When Natalie Marton, lead character designer for Buzz Lightyear, meets the voice of Buzz, Chris Evans, the sparks are undeniable. But when their work pushes them away from each other, both physically and emotionally, will the sheer differences between their worlds be enough to force them apart?

Pairing: Chris Evans x Pixar Animator OFC Natalie Marton

Word Count: 7,000

By: @k-evans-writes and @ourfinest-hour

We do NOT give permission for our works to be reuploaded, translated, or reposted on any other site. Our work is our own.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. MINORS DNI. Smut.

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July 2021

Chris’ leg was bouncing anxiously as the private plane slowly rolled along the runway after landing in California. He didn’t know why he should be nervous, something which his younger brother had obnoxiously pointed out just moments earlier, he had no reason to be. But there was something in him that still felt anxious, that wondered what it would be like seeing Nat again. So much had happened since they’d been in person and although he knew just how much they’d grown closer, emotionally becoming so connected in his time away, his anxiety was trying to convince him otherwise. 

It didn’t help that he’d been building today up in his mind for months now, practically dreaming every day of how it’d go, what would happen, that now he was more nervous than he’d been in a long time for anything, but especially a date. She just was…. it for him, and the fact that she was that already, after only a few months of knowing each other and a few moments together, was reason enough for him to feel this way.  

But when Dodger jumped up from where he’d been laying at Chris’ feet as the flight attendant opened the door, Scott shot Chris a smile, more confident about the evening going well than Chris was, especially when Nat had asked if she could pick Chris up from the private airfield. With them going straight to the restaurant, Chris had come dressed for the evening, wearing his tight white tank top and a watercolor style patterned shirt that he knew Nat would love hanging unbuttoned on top. He wanted to look a little bit nicer, showing Nat he put effort into it, not having any interest in playing things cool. He was crazy about Nat and he wanted her to know it. 

That anxiety that was hanging at his heels was still ever present when he finally stood up behind Scott who grabbed his bags and Dodger’s leash, telling him, “Alright, I’ll drop Dodge and your shit at your house and then I’m headed home. Have fun tonight.” 

“Thanks Scott. I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” he promised, clapping his brother’s shoulder before he turned, taking one last glance around the cabin to make sure he had everything. 

Chris shoved his nervous hands into the pockets of his dark wash jeans and turned the opposite direction of Scott once they headed down the short stairs and onto the pavement. He glanced down at his phone, looking at the text again to see where Nat was parked but as he kept walking and lifted his head, he found that he didn’t have to look any farther to find his girl. 

She was just stepping out of the driver's seat of his Tesla and suddenly the past few months of being without her seemed to hit him hard. Every inch of him wanted her in every sense of the word. He wanted nothing more than to have her in his arms and commit that feeling to memory, never wanting to be without it again and luckily he didn’t have to much longer when Nat’s eyes landed on his, her entire face lighting up as she ran over to him in her black heels and practically leapt into his arms, showing him just how happy she was to be with him too. 

Chris closed his eyes as he held her off the ground, squeezing her tight and breathing in that fresh lavender scent of hers. He had missed this so badly, not getting hardly any of it before he’d left for Europe and he was determined to make up for it now. He didn’t even know how long they stood there, holding each other so tightly until Chris finally set her down on her feet and pulled back enough to see her face but only got to for a second before Nat was crashing her lips to his, reminding him that was the other thing he’d been missing. 

He kissed her for as long as she let him, pulling back when his lungs began to burn and rested his forehead against hers, pressing kisses to any skin he could reach as he whispered, “I fuckin’ missed you.” 

“I can’t believe you’re actually here,” she replied just as quietly, her hand moving through the hair at the back of his head. He’d gotten his hair cut by one of the hair stylists on set when filming wrapped last week, and while it was definitely shorter than he preferred – and what he secretly knew Nat liked – it was still a welcome change after looking like Lloyd for the last four months. 

“Finally,” he chuckled, moving his forehead off at hers and looking her up and down, holding her hand in his. Her little black dress was definitely a surprise, something he’d never seen Nat in before, but he fuckin’ loved it. “You look gorgeous, Nattie.” 

She shrugged, a cheeky smirk on her face as she squeezed his hand a few times. “I’ve got a date tonight so I wanted to dress up a little,” she mentioned nonchalantly. 

“You look fuckin’ amazing,” he muttered with a shake of his head, eyes taking in her slightly more dramatic than usual makeup and lingering on her purposely-messy updo. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with your hair straight before.” 

She blushed and shrugged, admitting, “I only do it for special occasions.” 

“I’m glad I’m not the only one who thinks this is pretty fuckin’ special,” he laughed a little, grinning at her as they slowly began walking, hand-in-hand, to the car across the lot. “I’m so glad to be back with you, Nattie.” 

She leaned against his side as she confessed, “Me too.” 

Chris couldn’t help but stop them and reach out, letting a hand rest on her soft cheek as he looked down into those beautiful eyes he’d missed getting to see. There was so much unsaid in that moment, but it didn’t need to be because both of them were feeling the same thing and they knew it. He couldn’t help but lean down and kiss her once more, soaking in the taste of her kiss before pulling away with one little kiss to her forehead. 

“Just so you know…” Nat whispered as he pulled back from her forehead, a smirk on her red lips. “I like kissing you a lot better without the mustache.” 

Chris rolled his eyes, shaking his head as they began walking side by side again towards the car. “I can’t even make it to the fuckin’ car before you brought up the mustache!” He muttered playfully, but he felt the same.

“Well can you blame me? It was pretty awful,” Nat shrugged simply, smirking next to Chris as her heels clicked against the pavement.

“As promised, it was shaved before I came back to the states,” he reminded her, watching as she swung their hands back and forth a little, practically vibrating with excitement. “I just can’t believe you’re driving my Tesla. I never thought I’d see you behind the wheel of it, especially now that your car got recovered.” 

“As much as I love my car, I thought this might look a little better for a date than my Trooper that now has the paint scratched and the hubcaps missing thanks to my car thieves,” Nat sighed, and Chris nodded as he remembered the state it was found in, a few cities west of where it was stolen. They both had been relieved that it was relatively fine, but it was definitely due for some TLC in the shop soon.

“I’m just glad they found it though,” he whispered, but then smirked as his eyes moved up and down his girl again. “Although I think seeing you in my car is pretty sexy.” 

She shrugged, smirking as she agreed with a small laugh, “I am pretty good at sitting.” 

“Well get your cute ass in, I’ll drive,” he said as they got to the car, holding his hand out for the key fob.

But Nat bit her lip and looked at him with a smirk, and despite handing over the key, she murmured, “I don’t know if you should. I’m not sure you can keep your eyes on the road.” 

And Chris chuckled to himself, moving the fob between his fingers as he looked at her through his lashes, whispering, “I haven’t seen my girl in months and she picked me up looking sexy as fuck, so can you blame me?” 

He bit his lip as he saw the way she reacted to that simple rhetorical question, the deep blush that not only spread across her lips but also her chest, and then how she just nodded with pursed lips, dropping his hand.They both walked around the car, Chris chuckling to himself as he watched Nat easily open the door – something she’d struggled with only a few weeks ago – and they both slipped into the car without another word. He let out a sigh as the car automatically adjusted to his settings, the seat slipping back to accommodate his height and he looked over at Nat, smirking to himself as he felt nothing except a deep attraction to her. 

As he turned the car on Chris couldn’t help but reach over and rested his hand on her thigh, just needing that point of contact before he leaned his head against the seat, gazing at her while he told her softly, “I really missed you, Nattie.” 

He saw the tender look in her emotional eyes before she reached over to rest her hand on his cheek, rubbing her thumb against the smattering of prickly scruff before Nat connected their lips for their first unrestrained kiss, behind some semblance of closed doors and privacy, since seeing each other again. It just felt so good, not just the kiss but all of it. Having her back with him, feeling her touch, hearing that gorgeous laugh of hers, it all felt so perfect but what was even better to him was knowing that come tomorrow, he wasn’t going to have to leave like he’d done before. He was going to get her fully and nothing made him happier than that. 

He’d missed her. He’d missed her wild curls, the ones she barely seemed to have the time or patience to handle as the day progressed, before she resigned to her fate and just threw it up in a bun that was always somehow wilder and weirder than the last. He’d missed the faux-judgmental looks before she burst into laughter, shot at him from across the room or a conference table. He’d missed how she always succeeded in sneaking something that would make his trainer hate her into his meals, whether it was ice cream at lunch or copious amounts of carbs or cheese at dinner. He’d just missed her. Everything she did, everything she was, and everything she had become to him.

But when Chris felt her arms wrap around him and pressed her body into his the best she could from where they were in the car, he realized he’d missed that too. He couldn’t stop his hands from running up her side, tracing her figure until they slid around to her back and pressed her even closer to him. Suddenly she pulled away from him, confusing Chris and making his eyes open just in time to see her grabbing the edges of her black dress and pulling it up her thighs before she climbed across the center console and planted herself in his lap, knees on either side of his hips while her hands rubbed along his firm chest. 

His eyes were wide as he looked up at her, seeing the way she smirked as his head leaned back against the headrest to meet her eyes. And – not for the first time – he found himself in awe of her, of just how amazing and perfect she was, attracted to her in every sense of the word. Chris’ hands yet again reached out for her, pulling her body against his impossibly tight before their lips found one another’s again, their tongues tangling and soft sighs filling the car. He had dreamed of this for so long, wanting to remember what it was like to have his hands on her, rubbing down her back and groping at her ass the way they were right now. But none of his dreams matched up to how good it was to actually be feeling it, to be finally feeling her weight on his lap. 

Chris was so lost in her, so lost in the feeling of finally getting to kiss her that he had barely noticed her shifting in his lap until she started rolling her hips against him, making Chris need to pull away to take a long breath as he bit out a strained curse, leaning his head back against the headrest as she continued moving her hips against him. 

“Nattie, I thought I was taking you out for a nice dinner,” he ground out, his eyes flying close as she passed over him. 

But she smirked and leaned in, pressing her lips to his neck as he tucked a loose strand of hair back behind her ear. “Oh you still are, I’m starving,” she drawled. 

He gently moved her back to sit up, cringing a bit at just how…. enthusiastic he clearly was already. “I don’t think I have much room to really move here so maybe we do dinner first and then head home,” he suggested, his hand coming to rest on her arm as his thumb moved back and forth over the bare skin there, and he watched as she slipped out of his lap and moved back to her own seat. “I finally have time with you so I don’t want to rush it.” 

But Nat studied him for a few moments, eyes flicking between him and his pants before she asked, “What if I help you take the edge off now?” 

“...Are you bein’ serious?” 

She nodded and shrugged, a small smirk on her lips as her eyes watched him nod back quickly. It felt like a blur as she helped him unzip his pants and pulled him out of his briefs, and Chris’ eyes widened as she leaned down across the console, kneeling on her own seat to get closer to him. He watched from under his long eyelashes as Nat’s small hand wrapped around his base while her other hand ran along his length, her fingertips gently tracing the thick vein and making him harden in her hands. 

Chris was already on edge, leaning his head back against the headrest and taking in deep breaths through his nostrils while he muttered, “Fuck Nattie.” 

She chuckled, and the puff of air against him nearly made his hips jerk. “Just relax, baby,” she murmured to him unhelpfully. 

But how in the world could he do that? It was impossible to relax when he saw Nat’s red lips wrap around his tip and feel her warm mouth on him. Just the sensation of her tongue swirling around his tip was enough to make him want to die right then and there. He couldn’t believe this was happening, that he actually was here with her and that she was all his. 

It had been so long since they’d been together, and only once at that with that one time being so clouded with other emotions and uncertainty but this was different. They both knew how they felt and the emotional connection that they had months to build was stronger than anything he’d experienced before, but it only made it harder for him to hang on as she bobbed her head up and down. 

Chris reached out to cradle the back of her head with his hand, moaning obscenely and barely being able to open his eyes to look at her, knowing that would push him over the edge instantly. But he had to feel her, wanting to remind himself this was real and actually happening. His chest was heaving with his heavy breaths as she kept hollowing her cheeks and sucking him so perfectly and Chris let his hand run down her back as he grunted out from the particular way her hands fondled him. His hand kept following down the curve of her back and came to rest on the curve of her behind, just wanting to touch her as he focused on keeping his breathing in check. 

But the moment that Nat started sucking him harder and bobbing her head up and down faster and faster, his heart started pounding in his chest and he knew there was no way he was going to be able to hang on. He was panting heavily but managed to push out a “Nattie,” in an attempt to warn her that he was almost there but she just stayed put, keeping her tongue rubbing against him so perfectly until he couldn’t stand it anymore and finally spilled over his peak. 

His whole body went limp at the incredible release, melting into the seat as Nat only pulled off of him to swallow before she wrapped her lips back around his tip to gently suck him as his breathing caught back up to normal. Chris finally let his eyes flutter open when Nat finally sat back up and gave him such a soft smile that he was melting all over again. 

But she surprised him when she smirked suddenly, her eyes amused as she slowly pointed at him sheepishly and told Chris, “I think you’re going to want to wipe off your face.” 

Not understanding, Chris reached out to flip down the sunvisor where the mirror was put and he instantly burst into laughter at the sight of Nat’s dark red lipstick smudged all over his face. His loud laughter filled the car as Nat reached for her purse in the backseat and fished out a makeup wipe as she reached over to swipe it across his cheeks before moving to wipe off the lipstick that was smudged in other places other than just his face.  

Once they’d both settled – and shared more laughter – they’d buckled their seatbelts and Chris put the car in reverse, heading out of the airfield’s parking lot and towards the freeway, to the little Mexican restaurant, Chris letting out a tiny sigh of relief as he realized they still had time to make their dinner reservations. 

Chris was fairly quiet most of the car ride while Nat babbled on about the mishaps that had happened the past couple days at work featuring Mark and Jamie and the random antics they’d gotten into. He didn’t even really find himself paying that much attention to what she was saying, but just loved getting to finally be here in the car listening to her voice from right beside him rather than from the other end of a phone or blurry FaceTime call. 

But when they’d gotten tucked into a booth in the back corner of the restaurant, Chris couldn’t wait another moment to marvel, “God, I just missed you so fuckin’ much.” 

Her lips spread into a smirk as she huffed, barely looking at him from over the top of the menu as she mused, “I bet you did because I doubt Scott got you cheating on your diet and eating ice cream at lunch.” 

He shot her a look from across the small table, telling her, “I’m not sure that’s a bad thing.” 

“Might not be, but it’s also a lot less fun,” Nat simply shrugged as she put the menu down and reached for a chip from the bowl between them. 

Chris nodded, his eyes moving over the different fajita options. “If I could have ice cream for lunch and look like you do, I’d go for it too,” he murmured. 

“Yeah because you look so terrible,” Nat rolled her eyes but smirked when they caught each other’s gaze. 

Chris put his menu down on the table, smacking Nat’s hand away playfully as she tried to take a chip before he could. He smirked at her as he took some salsa too, and told her, “Hey, you’re the one that told me I did with that mustache.” 

“Yeah but that was all the mustache’s doing,” she rolled her eyes as she watched him eat, taking a chip of her own again as she reached for her water. “So are you happy to be done or is it sad when you wrap a project?” 

“A little of both. This one was fun, I mean you know I love the Russos but it felt like a whirlwind going from Prague to France and then Croatia so I’m ready for a break,” Chris shrugged, leaning back against the cushioned booth as he ran a hand over his face. “The past few days back home in Boston I just slept most of the time trying to get back on the right schedule.” 

Nat frowned as she listened to him, adding, “And now that you’re back in California you have to adjust again.” 

“It’s worth it though,” Chris grinned, but turned his attention quickly to the waiter as they came by to take their orders and drop off their drinks. 

Once they were alone again, she watched him as he took another chip.“Do you know how long you’re going to stay here?” She asked, voice a little more tentative than he’d expected from her.  Before he could reply, she rushed to add, “Will you be here until you have to go record in New York?” 

Chris nodded, remembering how they’d structured the process so he could record closer to Boston in the New York offices, but that was before everything changed and he had something here that made him want to stay in Los Angeles, for the first time in a long time. “I actually emailed Rob to see if I could switch it here instead,” he began slowly, knowing he hadn’t told her about that yet, but had been unable to help himself when the head of the recording department for the film sent over the drafted schedule for fall, putting him in the New York City a few days a week. “I just have a much better reason to be here than New York.” 

But she smirked around the straw of her lemonade then drawled, “Yeah because I bet the recording studio in New York doesn’t have a soft serve machine like we do here.” 

“Good point,” Chris chuckled, his smile growing wider at Nat’s laughter. After taking a sip from his soda, he settled back into the conversation, asking her, “So how is everything at work going?” 

“It’s been so busy. Good, but busy just trying to get everything for Lightyear on track. We had fallen behind with everyone just getting back into the routine after working from home so it slowed us down,” she explained, and Chris nodded even though he couldn’t imagine what it must’ve been like for her, trying to catch up on work in between everything in the last few months. “A bunch of us have been working weekends to get caught up and I think we’re back on track now.” 

He nodded, putting his soda back onto the table and told her, “Good because you’ve got plans this weekend.” 

Nat sighed, adjusting the thin strap on her dress from where it’d slipped off her shoulder and said, “Yeah, it’s just too bad they’re not with you.” 

“I fuckin’ missed you, Nattie,” he whispered, all but a pout on his lips at the stupid joke, but smirked when she laughed loudly at him. 

“I missed you too,” she replied just as quietly, slipping her hand across the table to hold his, and Chris felt thankful – not for the first time that night – that they weren’t in the view of other diners. “Oh, Heather and Alex said hi by the way.” 

He smiled at the mention of her sisters, but quickly shook his head. “I honestly can’t believe your family doesn’t hate my guts after what happened,” he murmured, shifting in the booth. “Have they stopped getting follow requests by now?” 

“Yeah it’s all died down,” Nat assured him, even though Chris had some doubts, especially when it came to her own accounts. “But trust me, they’re your biggest fans. Ever since you sent over dinner while you were filming when Heather was visiting me, she’s been on your side.” 

He blushed a little, meeting her eyes as he honestly told her, “If I would have known I could win them over that easily, I would have done it a lot sooner.” 

“Well you didn’t have a lot to compete with considering they hated my fiance by the end of our relationship,” Nat mentioned, rolling her eyes playfully. 

He watched her, almost feeling out how she felt before he slowly asked, “You can tell me to fuck off, but just how badly did things end between you two?” 

“Enough that it’s painfully awkward now at birthday parties,” she muttered, rolling her eyes for real this time. “He’s cousins with Alex’s husband.” 

Chris frowned and curiously asked, “Was he at your niece’s birthday party?” 

“Luckily no,” Nat informed him, and Chris felt some relief at that. “He’s working in Europe and is engaged to some girl there so he’s not really home anytime other than the holidays, so luckily Ella’s birthday only had good people at it.” 

Chris nodded, taking the cue to drop the conversation. It wasn’t exactly prime ‘first date’ subject material, so he turned to the one thing he knew would always bring a smile to her face and said, “I’m sure your family were happy to have you home for a little while.” 

“Yeah, it was really nice,” Nat nodded, shrugging a little with a small smile. “My dad was a little down because the day of Ella’s party was my mom’s birthday so I think it was nice for him to have us all together.”

Chris’ shoulders fell a little at the mention of her late mother, not realizing the significance of the weekend visit beyond Ella’s birthday. “I’m sure it wasn’t easy for any of you,” he whispered. 

“I don’t remember her at all so it’s a lot different for me than it is for anyone else,” Nat admitted, surprising Chris a little until he remembered how young Nat had been when everything happened – only two years old. “But all things considered I think my dad had a really good weekend. He seemed pretty happy.” 

Chris nodded, glancing down at his lap before he added, “Until I sent his daughter home in tears from being an ass.” 

“Well, my dad was actually the one who told me to call you after everything happened.” 

Chris looked back up at her, shocked as he asked, “Was he really?” 

“Yeah, he said that I was in too deep for you to not call you back, and that he saw the way you looked at me when he was visiting so he knew that you cared about me,” she laughed, and he couldn’t help but laugh at how obviously hilarious she now found it all. 

“He’s certainly right about that,” Chris agreed, unable to tear his eyes off the woman in front of him.

Chris only got the chance to see her beautiful smile for a moment until the waiter pulled his attention away when he brought the foot and set it down on the table in front of them. As they dug in and started eating, Chris realized even more than he had the past few months that he had fallen completely head over heels for Nat. Throughout the entire meal, neither could make it more than a few minutes without hysterically laughing at something the other said before they’d fall right back into their easy conversation. Nat’s easy charisma and authenticity had him hanging on to her every word, loving her comically expressive face and ability to put anyone around her at ease, specifically him. There didn’t seem to be a moment that he was with her that he wasn’t smiling. 

She had polished off her entire meal before she curled her legs underneath her in the booth, hands waving wildly as she regaled a tale from the day before featuring her somehow landing in one of the perfectly landscaped bushes at the Disney campus which made Chris slap a hand to his chest, eyes squinted up as he tipped back and sputtered with loud laughter, “How the fuck does this stuff happen to you?” 

“That’s the same thing the Head of Animation asked me when I showed up to the meeting with leaves still stuck in my hair,” Nat laughed loudly, her cheeks bright red as he shook his head at her. 

And that was how their dinner ended – loud laughter and unbelievable stories, following them back into his car as they headed toward Chris’ house in Laurel Canyon. It felt almost surreal that he was actually here with Nat. It had been over two long months since he had her back in person and there was so much that so easily fell back into place but also so much that somehow felt… different. He’d never had a relationship like this, that he’d been pulled away before things had a chance to naturally evolve. With them having spent that one night together right before he left, and the uncertainty that had followed, they never had a chance to actually be together with all their emotions out in the open. 

They had been forced to be away from each other, but the more Chris thought about it, the more he realized how much closer it had helped them grow and connect emotionally. They both had to make a choice to put effort into it, it wasn’t something that had just fallen in his lap or been convenient like many other of his relationships had been. This was one both he and Nat had to work for and the emotional closeness that had sprung from that was something he hadn’t felt with most girlfriends during the entire course of their relationship, let alone so early on and without hardly any face to face. 

But this was different and Chris knew it. 

Every bit of him wanted her. He wanted all the sensitivity, laughter, friendship, and chaos that came with her. But there was another way in which he wanted her and hadn’t been able to have but by the way that Nat’s hands were wrapping around his waist as she curled herself against his body as they walked up to his front door, he knew that she wanted him too. 

He had barely gotten the door closed behind him before he was slipping his arms around her waist and pulling up against her to kiss her deeply. Instantly her hands were grasping at his neck, pulling him even tighter as she kissed him back fervently. It was almost funny as he thought back to the last time a few months ago when they were in this exact spot, kissing by the front door but this time was so different. No uncertainty. No lingering question. No urgency. This time, there was only longing and desire.

The pair stumbled over to the couch, never hardly breaking their kiss until Chris ungracefully plopped on the couch while pulling Nat’s hips down to follow him. Just as she had done in the car, he watched as she pulled the hem of her dress up dangerously high on her thighs before straddling his hips and sitting down in his lap, only resulting in getting him more worked up than he already was. His arms wrapped around her hips, pulling her impossibly tighter against him and Nat rubbed her body against his as she kissed her way up his neck before bringing her lips back to his for a kiss which he had decided he’d gone much too long without. 

There was nothing about her that didn’t attract him and he could feel just how turned on for her that he was with every little roll of her hips into him. But he had only gotten to have this one time before. Only got to feel her and look at her one time and he knew that just wasn’t enough. Chris started sucking at her bottom lip, earning some of those breathy sighs from her before his hands slipped down and found the hem of her dress, dipping his hands under it and started pulling upward to bring the fabric to bunch at her waist. When his big hands moved back down, he was so thankful for the skimpy thong she’d worn, allowing his hands to feel her round cheeks in his hands that he kneaded and squeezed, causing her to moan with each one. 

He felt completely drunk on her, every sigh and gasp something he wanted to memorize. It felt so good just having her weight in his lap, getting to have his hands on her and getting to feel the touch of her hands rubbing along his chest. But he wanted more. Chris tried to restrain himself the best he could, just enjoying their profuse kissing and he certainly did, but after a while his hands traveled up to find that tiny zipper on her dress and slowly dragged it down. His blue eyes saw those tiny straps fall from her shoulders and with the fabric now loose, Nat pulled back from him and let Chris grab the fabric that was pushed up around her waist and pulled it over her head, tossing it to the floor and leaving her in nothing but that tiny thong and that certainly was a sight that had him growling. 

He brought his hands around her smooth back, tipping her back slightly in his lap so he could fully look at her, his eyes taking in every inch before landing on her face as she smiled at him, instantly making him feel weak. Chris couldn’t help but lean in to kiss her before his lips started trailing down, littering kisses all over her neck and the top of her bare chest, muttering, “Still can’t get over how fuckin’ gorgeous you are.” 

And he swore he could practically feel her melt in his arms at just that one simple phrase that only urged him to go on. Those little sighs kept spilling out of her lips as he covered every inch of her chest in kisses before his mouth wrapped around one of her perky nipples, sucking softly while he kept one arm around her to hold her up and the other to gently grope at her other soft breast. He took his time there, alternating between each one but by the time he was about to finish, he heard Nat’s voice whine, “Chris…” 

“Hmm?” He muttered against her skin, knowing that he’d never get tired of this… tired of her. 

“I want you, baby,” she purred, hearing her little term of endearment for him only adding to his desire for her. 

And as if to prove her point, she rolled her hips down onto his hard manhood still confined in his jeans. But who was he to deny her what she wanted? What good was he doing her if he couldn’t fulfill her every desire in this moment – and not to mention his own. Chris pulled her tighter against him, hooking both his arms around her waist and stood up holding her effortlessly. Nat just snaked her arms around his neck, nuzzling her face into his neck and kissing his skin sweetly while her legs wrapped around him, clinging to him in a way that was driving him crazy as he walked down the hallway, thankful Dodger was too occupied by the food in his bowl to pay them any attention. 

Chris pushed the door to his bedroom open with his foot and then back closed again before finding the bed and gently laying her down. He pulled off every bit of his clothing in record time, freeing him from his constraints, grabbing a condom before he stalked over to the bed, weak at the sight of Nat nearly naked and wanting him. When he reached the bed, Chris ran both of his hands up her long legs before letting one hand dip between her thighs to feel her over the wet fabric of her skimpy thong. 

“God, Nattie you’re so wet for me, honey,” he groaned, his eyes nearly falling shut as he ran his fingers over her. 

“I want you so fucking bad,” Nat admitted, her voice breaking a little as her eyes met his. “I missed you, Chris.” 

“I know, I missed you too,” he whispered, giving a small half-smile. “But this time I don’t have to leave you.” 

She smirked, her head falling against the overstuffed pillows as she confessed, “I like the sound of that.” 

Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to her thigh before hooking his fingers in the waistband and peeled off that last bit of fabric separating them and he nearly moaned when he saw Nat spreading her legs for him. He was ready to kneel down, eager to taste her, but felt a hand on his shoulder. Chris looked up at her, seeing that beautiful face propped up by one of the white pillows and there was nothing but tenderness in her eyes as she said, “Baby, I just want to feel you.” 

“You sure?” 

“Please,” she whimpered. 

With her instruction, Chris nodded softly, knowing he’d get plenty of time in the future to have his face buried between her thighs. He made his way up the bed and got between her legs, but first laid himself down, pressing his chest against hers and kissed her deeply. It felt as if so much was being said with that one kiss and he knew it was. He knew without a doubt that he was in love with her, he’d known it from the minute his eyes landed on her earlier that evening, and in his heart he’d known it for a little longer than that even. It was undeniable, and although he wanted to wait for the right moment to say it to her, he knew that he felt it and felt it deeply. 

It’s what made pushing his length deep into her feeling a million times better. This was an act of the two of them showing each other all that they felt, and what they felt was honest and true. He swore he could have hit his peak right then and there with that initial stretch just from feeling how tightly Nat was gripping on her shoulders and how loud she was crying out for him. It felt so incredible to be tucked inside those velvety walls, Nat squeezing him just right. 

His hands were on either side of her, caging Nat in as his hips found a good rhythm, pulling out and snapping back in perfectly. Nat wrapped her legs lazily around his hips, opening herself up farther and pulling him in. Chris would be lying if he said he hadn’t dreamed of this, what it would be like when they were finally back together again but the best part of this was that it was so much better than he even could have imagined. 

It was so hard for him to hang on and draw this out, but by the way that Nat was arching her back and grabbing at his shoulders while she moaned loudly, he knew that he wasn’t the only one. He was grunting and moaning himself, loving the feel of every snap of his hips, but when Nat brought a hand up to run through her now messy hair as her eyes closed, he knew she was close and brought his thumb to rub at her sensitive button to help get her over the top.

He bit his lower lip, his forehead creasing with the exertion as he muttered, “C’mon Nattie, I know you’re right there.” 

“Chris,” she moaned, a hand landing on his shoulder, clinging to the muscle there. “Baby, you feel so good.” 

“So do you, Nattie. So fuckin’ good,” he chanted. “Just let go for me, honey.” 

Her chest was heaving with her pants as he rubbed those tight circles and kept his hips hitting her deep and causing Nat to be unable to hold on, her hands grasping at those broad shoulders tightly as her whole body went rigid. She felt how tightly her walls were gripping him, making Chris let out an obscene moan right before Nat cried out as she hit her peak and just as promised, Chris just stared down at her face, wanting to memorize that look. 

It only took him a few more labored thrust to get him spilling out and moaning her name, but as his moans turned to heavy breaths, he couldn’t will himself to pull out of her, just wanting to stay fully connected for another moment. It didn’t take long for his lips to find hers, slowly kissing her as they drifted back to reality. 

But somehow Nat felt as if this was anything but reality. She was back here with Chris, finally getting to be together in person, able to talk without barriers or shitty cell reception, touch one another, and just enjoy the other’s presence. It was something they had gone much too long without and were going to enjoy every second of from here on out, determined to make this last as long as she could manage. She was hopelessly attached to him, in every way, and she only hoped he felt the same. 

A/N: They're reunited! We hope you all enjoyed their homecoming! We can't wait to hear your thoughts, and we'll be back with part two on Thursday!

#in living color #chris evans fanfic #original female character #chris evans ff #chris evans x ofc #chris e #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans story #chris evans x smut #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x oc #chris evans x original female character #chris evans x reader #ofc #rpf #real life chris evans #real person fanfiction #real person fiction #chris evans fluff #chris evans imagine #imagine #chris evans writing #writing #chris evans smut #cevans #christopher robert evans #pixar au #chris evan fanfiction #fanfic #original content

[lumpsbumpsandwhumps]

@whumpbump Okay I know you probably meant Whumper pushing Whumpee down the stairs but I couldn't resist my love for stairwells and chase scenes so --

--

You slammed your shoulder into the metal door, crying out in frustration when it didn't immediately give to your frantic pounding. The alcohol in your veins still dulled your coordination, making it all the more difficult to pry open the entry down to the stairs. There was no time to wait for the elevator. No time to wait for the cops that surely had to have been called by now from someone else on this floor, at least to file a noise complaint against those rowdy, drunk kids making a ruckus all night.

"Open, open," you begged into the air. You rammed against the metal again and again, each hit making your shoulder throb, the last one threatening to dislocate the joint if you abused it much long. "Fucking open!"

The weight on the other side finally gave way, allowing you to shove the blockage just enough to slip through the gap. You prayed your pursuer wouldn't be able to fit in the narrow opening, though you doubted he'd have much trouble fully slamming the stuck door wide open. Betraying your moment of reprieve, you dared to look back and gauge the distance between yourself and the stalker, kept safe only by a doorway and several flights of stairs.

Instead, what you saw was the body of the building's janitor hastily shoved between the wall and door. Blood drenched the entire front of his uniform, his head angled down to hide the near decapitation of his neck. Instantly, your hands flew to your mouth to catch the scream clawing up your throat, or perhaps the stifle the gag that risked you vomiting on a poor man's already desecrated corpse. You stumbled backwards in an attempt to get away from yet another victim of a psychopath.

Perhaps that wasn't your best move on such a narrow landing. The concrete had become slick from the cooling pools of blood that lazily spread out and dripped to the stairs below. You felt your heel catch on the lip of the step, causing you to stumble, but the sudden shift in your weight made your foot slip in viscera and send you careening backwards. Another yelp was muffled in your chest, the air in your lungs being stolen before you could utter a sound.

The concrete steps were unforgiving in their beating. Sharp angles dug into all the tender spots of your flesh as you landed on each one, rolling from your back to your side and back again. Your knees and elbows sent tingling pains through every limb as the nerve was struck. No matter how desperately you threw out your hands to catch something, they would always instinctively pull back and try to protect your head from being split open. They didn't do much good when your chin smacked against the edge of a step, making your teeth painfully crack together and slicing your lower lip on an incisor.

The taste of blood was hot and bitter in your mouth, welling up in the back of your throat like bile. As much as you wanted to spit it out, another hit to your stomach left you wheezing, trying to suck in air that refused to stay down. Your world was a dizzying view of white stained walls and grey concrete, spinning round and doubling in vision with each bump to the head and chest you endured. When you finally came to a sprawling stop at the bottom of the story, it took a moment for your surrounds to cease their moving as well.

Finally, you coughed, pulling yourself onto your side so that you didn't choke on the globs of blood that splattered by your cheek. A sharp ringing deafened you, helping to dull the pain that pulsated through your body in tandem with your heartbeats. The relief didn't last long, agony instantly flaring in every muscle when you tried to roll onto your stomach in a foolish attempt to crawl onto your knees. One sharp ache in your hip refused to settle into a throb like all the others. With clumsy hands, you felt around the area until you brushed against a hard, jagged piece of glass that been impaled deep into the tissue. You pressed your other hand onto the ground in an effort to gain so leverage, only to yank it back with a hiss. More glass shards, thankfully smaller, had been imbedded in your palm. Litter that the janitor had probably been in the midst of picking up.

Despite being able to breathe now, as labored as it was, the only sounds you could muster were whimpers for help. The sound was pathetic and keening; you knew no one would be able to hear them, let alone think to check the stairwell for an injured tenant on the run from a madman. You couldn't stop, you had to keep going, you had to get away and warn everyone and find refuge. You had to survive.

But luck was not on your side, as evident by the splotches of red and purple on almost every inch of skin. From above, you heard two heavy bangs against solid metal following the sound of something dropping on the floor. The reverb in the stairwell made your throbbing headache scream louder, screwing your eyes close to ward off any tears that risked blurring your vision worse than what it already was. When you opened them again, you could see the janitor's head peaking between the railing his body having been toppled over onto his side. Thick streams of coagulated blood dripped to the landing below, mere inches from your nose.

You were more concerned by the looming figure that observed you over the same railing. Unbothered by the body he had shoved out of the way, he tilted his head with faux fascination at the sight of you sprawled on the ground and struggling to move. There was no telling what kind of sadistic joy was hidden behind the gaping black eyeholes of the madman's mask, or perhaps he was disappointed that his prey had taken the fun of the chase away due to their own incompetence. A shot of adrenaline kickstarted your heart into overdrive, worsening the pain that beat from your skull to your feet.

There was no time to recover any longer. The man begin to descend the stairs one leisurely step at a time, letting the stomp of his boots echo like a warning siren as he grew closer. You both knew there was no need to hurry, it wasn't like you'd be going anywhere any time soon, enough so that the knife was sheathed back into the pocket on his thigh. Every fiber of your being urged you to flee, anything to save yourself from a miserable death that probably wouldn't even be remembered in the stalker's kill count. As much as you would have loved to scramble up and sprint down the remaining five staircases, then best you could muster was an agonizing crawl towards the next flight of stairs.

You hoped gravity would be kind and swift carrying you down on your belly to the lower levels. It couldn't be any worse than what you were sure to experience otherwise.

#whump #whump community #whump scenario #whumpee #whumper #whump ideas #whump writing #whump prompt #whump tropes #whumpblr #masked whumper #creepy whumper #tw blood #whumpee insert #reader insert #yandere #male yandere #he's yandere to ME!!

[underforeversgrace]

same memory (different perspective)

title: same memory (different perspective)

Words: 3843

Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence/Dissection

Summary: It’s just chores, just him cleaning the lab. It’s just a normal day and he’s definitely fine. His fight or flight instinct definitely isn’t screaming at every single atom in himself to run.

Prompts: At end of story

AO3

Danny was fine. He was absolutely fine, thank you very much. His jeans definitely weren’t getting coated with sweat, both from his constantly wiping his damp hands against them or the uncomfortable heat in his legs, despite the chill he felt everywhere else. His chest definitely didn’t feel tight, like his lungs and heart were shoved into a mouse trap. He was absolutely fine.

He bit at his lip, focusing on the breathing techniques Jazz had taught him. It was supposed to help, she’d repeatedly assured him. But he didn’t understand how breathing was supposed to help, when his chest was too small for lungs to expand, when his heart kept forgetting how to beat, when his skin felt like a costume he was trapped in. He didn’t need to breathe, didn’t need his heart to pump. But that didn’t make the pain any easier.

But he was fine! He. Was. Fine.

Several more breaths passed - in through the nose, out through the mouth - before he was able to push open the door separating the kitchen from the lab’s stairs. Danny forced his feet to carry him forward, though his body felt far heavier than it usually did.

He was acutely aware, for the first time, of the floor’s transition between the two areas. The bright, warm linoleum of the kitchen suddenly giving way to cold, hard silver tile. Hm, the floor was like him. His human half bright and warm, his ghost half cold and hard. Polar opposites yet existing beside each other, an immediate change from one to the other. Oh, yeah, he was definitely fine. These were definitely normal thoughts to have, definitely not just him trying to find any and every excuse to delay his descent.

Allowing himself another moment and more deep breathing, Danny finally continued his trudge down the stairs, a protective hand on his cramping stomach. He didn’t understand how that could even hurt now. The cold bit at his nose. It had been so long since he felt the cold, since… before. He’d forgotten how irritating it could be. He longed for warmth to come back.

Danny’s feet echoed in the space as he stepped off the bottom step, the stench of spilt ectoplasm assaulting him. 

Chores. He just needed to do his chores. He had been putting this off for a month and his parents were getting upset. He desperately didn’t want them to be upset with him. He told himself that it was just because he didn’t want them to keep a closer eye on him or take away his bedroom door or whatever, something mild that could risk his secret. He wasn’t afraid of them. He wasn’t.

His eyes immediately pulled to the far side of the room, opposite the portal. Trash needed to be picked up. Things needed to be cleaned and put away. Weapons need to be reloaded. His mind swapped to autopilot. He forgot how to feel anything - feel the cold stabbing his skin, feel the coils in stomach, feel the odd stutters in his chest. His mind fell into a willful fog. Trash found its way into a biohazard bin - it was all covered in ectoplasm anyway. How old is some of this ectoplasm? 

The thought managed to penetrate his carefully crafted oblivion and he flinched. It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter. Look at the pizza boxes, those are safe. Ha, there’s even ectoplasm on them! It’s a miracle Jack hadn’t been contaminated, hadn’t ever questioned how Jack managed to avoid contamination entirely yet Danny was so ecto-contaminated he set off all the Fenton weapons. Yeah. As far as they knew, Danny just had some small ecto contamination. What else could it be? It wasn’t like their son was a ghost!

…Maybe this train of thought wasn’t helping, either. Get trash. Place in bin. Get trash. Place in bin. Nothing else. No other thoughts. Nothing else existed. Just perfectly normal trash going in the perfectly normal biohazard bin.

Time passed oddly in this state. Was time even real? Had Clockwork destroyed time?

Why hadn’t Clockwork stopped time?

Again, an intrusive thought, one he had no answer to. Not helpful. Not helpful!

He glanced around the half of the room he was in, realizing all trash had been removed.

Wordlessly, soundlessly, Danny went to the weapons on Jack’s workbench. For spending so long as a ghost, Danny had never felt as wraith-like as he did at this moment, so much like a shadow of himself.

Still on automatic, Danny began picking up guns. He wiped them off of the ectoplasm splatters around the ends of the barrels. Emptied the spent cartridges into his palm. Pulled new ones from the storage beside him, loading the new energy sources of swirling green back in, cocking the gun so it was ready to fire. Maybe he shouldn’t do that. Maybe he shouldn’t make it easier for them to finish killing him. But he couldn’t leave them helpless. It may be another ghost they ran into. Their weapons had to be ready.

With each gun - ranging in size from a miniature pistol to the comically large bazooka - Danny made sure he didn’t think. Clean. Unload. Load. Prep. There was no worries about safeties on any of these. Ectoguns didn’t hurt humans and all ghosts were evil. Only one of the weapons did he ignore. A new one. It was coated in an ecto repellant. He couldn’t touch it even if he wanted. He didn’t even want to look at it, much less touch it. He’d already touched it once. Or, well, it had touched him? Regardless of semantics, he still had the fork shaped scars over his core to show for it.

Danny hung the weapons on their designated hooks on the wall. Maddie had at least been trying to get the place more organized. She was, after all, certain that Phantom had stolen something when he escaped. She had to figure out what was stolen.

The young ghost child wondered when, or even if, she would realize nothing was stolen. Phantom had taken nothing.

He’d left far more behind.

Once the weapons and trash were cleared, there wasn’t much left to do on this side of the lab. A quick wipe down of the desk, some splotches of ectoplasm to mop up off the floors and scrub off the walls.

All too soon, he was done with this half of the room. But it had been an ordeal more taxing than Pariah Dark had been. And this was the easy half of the room. He’d barely managed to keep his mind buried far enough in his body to finish. How was he going to do the other side?

But he had to. He was strong. He could do this.

Still, he delayed. He studied his hands, suddenly the most fascinating things he’d ever seen in his life. Completely, utterly human.

Well. If he ignored the thin pink lines that scarred his wrists, wrapping around both.

Breathe. Take a breath. Danny turned his body, studying the part of the lab immediately to the portal’s right.

The acidic bite of ectoplasm only got worse as he moved closer to the portal, though he kept the left side out of his line of sight.

There wasn’t much to do on this side and Danny wasn’t too sure how he felt about that. On one hand, elation that the less work he had to do, the sooner he’d been done. On the other, though, the fear and dread of knowing he was also sooner going to have to face what was behind him. And that terrified him. But for now, there was Maddie’s desk to tend to - much cleaner than Jack’s - and a storage closet beside it. Very little ectoplasm splattered around on this side, or so he thought until he moved a box that he realized was open, scalpels stained green falling to the floor. Grabbing those took more willpower than he thought he’d had, but he managed to at least drop them in the nearby lab sink before doing his best to purge the memory of that sight from his mind, turning back to the easy tasks.

Danny threw trash away and wiped up the occasional spill before focusing on the storage closet. Those were his least favorite things to clean, even on a good day. The amount of sandwiches Jack had forgotten in there long enough to mold was frankly concerning. But at least closets were normally safe. They tended to just have papers and the aforementioned forgotten food. Danny thought nothing of it as he pulled open the double doors, his half-present mind just thinking about all the paper he was about to see.

As soon as the doors came open, though, his useless breath left his useless body as he clutched at his upper chest, wide eyed and desperately trying not to vomit food he didn’t have.

Jars had replaced the paper he’d suspected, no sign of rotting food anywhere. Just the ethereal glow of glass jars filled to the brim with ectoplasm, slightly darker green things floating within.

Danny whipped around, desperate to get away from the sight, scrambling forward. In his desperation, he slipped, but caught himself on the edge of something cold and smooth, though it was as slick as the floor beneath him.

His entire body trembled as he fought to get into an autopilot deep enough that he wouldn’t see, wouldn’t feel, wouldn’t think, but terror pierced through. Fight or flight response triggered, no time to be mindless, yet his body wouldn’t move to allow flight (literally or figuratively) and there was nothing to fight here. He was a deer caught in headlights, unable to avoid the car barreling at him despite having time to do so.

He didn’t know why he was surprised. He’d know what they’d done a month ago. Maybe he’d simply expected them to clean up the ectoplasm within the past month, rather than letting it congeal into the slippery, sticky slop that surrounded and coated the table and ground. Maybe he’d expected his parents to not ask their fifteen year old son to clean up a supposedly biohazardous material or to warn him there were ghost organs, bottled like pickles in the storage closet.

That was foolish of him, though. He knew his parents. For the past month, they’d been so obsessed with finding Phantom, so sure that ghost was plotting his revenge. They hadn’t even noticed their son missing for two weeks. Whether they had assumed he was spending time with friends since it was summer vacation or they genuinely had not noticed Danny was gone, he didn’t know. But he knew them. He heard them talk about all their plans to get Phantom back on that table whenever he dared show his face again.

The metal table that was currently the only thing keeping Danny from collapsing. Of course, it was the metal table that kept him standing when a month ago it had held him down mercilessly. Everything, it always came back to this metal table. Haunted him, tortured him with nightmares of the table even as he tried desperately to simply sleep. This table refused to leave his mind, whether asleep or awake, human or ghost.

A feeling of nausea settled deep into him as he squeezed his eyes shut, desperately trying to smooth and calm his ragged, terrified breathing. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t. Surely, his parents would understand. He wasn’t used to working with ectoplasm. Ectoplasm was a mysterious, dangerous subject to him. Of course he wouldn’t be equipped to clean it, as far as his parents knew. All he had to do was get out of this lab.

“Danny?” A feminine voice behind him called, soft footsteps coming down the steps.

Phantom pain ripped down his entire body at her voice. He couldn’t call her mother anymore. Couldn’t see her as anything more than a blue predator with eyes like a bug. Her footsteps continued to draw closer. “Oh, drat. I meant to tell you to leave this part of the lab alone! Your father is supposed to be cleaning it this evening. Are you alright?”

Breathe. Breathe. BREATHE.

Danny shakily pulled his hands off the table, turning and facing Maddie. He did not like her behind him. She was a carnivorous creature that he couldn’t let his vulnerable spots. “Fine. Smells.” Talking was difficult and the words sounded like gravel.

Maddie nodded. “Yes, I suppose it is more ectoplasm than you’re used to, hm? Can be quite pungent. You can go ahead and head upstairs, Jack’ll finish this tonight.”

Moving slowly enough to not slip on the congealed green goop under his feet, he moved towards the exit, those stairs a beautiful light at the end of a dark tunnel.

He was almost free, again, when Maddie pulled something up on her computer. Normally, he’d have ignored it, except for the word flashing across the top of the screen.

Large, bold, and red flashed the word: HUMAN.

“What’re you working on?” Danny asked cautiously.

“Oh, it’s the most fascinating thing!” Maddie said, excitement lighting up her eyes. Danny was idly relieved that she’d kept the googles on a month ago. He had no doubt she’d had the same sparkle in her eyes then as she did now, a thought that did nothing to settle the anxiety shooting within him. “Remember how we caught Phantom?”

A rough nod, a deep seated uncomfort strangling him.

“Turns out, he’s half human!”

“What?”

“It’s true! The samples we took confirm it! Somehow, Phantom’s part human.”

Hope. A little, tiny seed of hope. “Does that mean you’ll stop hunting him? Being human and all?”

The seed was very quickly drowned, set on fire, buried deep into the earth, and thrown into a volcano as Maddie shook her head. “No reason to. He’s still mostly ghost, still not sentient. And he may be an even bigger boon to science, beyond the scope of ectology! What if small snippets of ectoplasm could be merged with human cells? It could cure illnesses, extend life itself! Look at this!”

Danny’s feet didn’t work. He couldn’t move as she minimized the file, double clicking on another one on her desktop and again the feeling of all of his insides clenching violently consumed him.

He was on the screen. Phantom, tied down, jumpsuit ripped off his form. Based on the angle in the video, Danny suspected there was a camera implanted in the ceiling above the table.

Maddie appeared to have been watching it earlier, the video was clearly around the middle of the…event. Green leaked from every part of him, on screen. He remembered. Every cut. Every gagged scream. This was, however, the most unpleasant thing he’d ever seen. There was something incredibly wrong about seeing straight into your own rib cage, body split apart and ripped open, flaps of skin pinned to yourself to make sure nothing obstructed their access. Other wounds littered him, that would’ve been incredibly concerning if not for the gaping void in his central, black bones shining eerily, small drops of green blood glowing against the bones’ dark backdrop. Chunks of skin were gouged out of him from all over. A deep cut along his right leg, all the way to the bone, from hip to knee, held open with a surgical instrument Danny didn’t know the name of.

Yet, still, Danny knew they weren’t at the worst part. They were nearly, though.

Maddie pressed play and Danny’s screams assaulted his ears, the audio making him stumble back a few steps.

“Oops!” Maddie said, quickly pressing the mute button, though the video continued playing. She swiveled toward him in her chair, a reassuring smile on her face as she saw the horror stricken one on his. “Don’t worry, dear. He can’t actually feel pain.”

Danny nodded. He wasn’t really hearing her anymore. He didn’t need the audio to play. His memory sufficiently provided the sounds as he struggled to rip his eyes from the screen. But they’d gotten to the part. The worst part.

The bone saw glinted in Jack’s hands as they applied their anti-ecto coating onto it.

When the blade started moving, Danny’s mind provided the sound, despite his desperate urge to suppress it. Jack leaned over, pressing the saw into intact ribs. Green ectoplasm and black bone dust began to fly. And his brain supplied the smell, too. The smell of burning bone and cooking flesh. He hadn’t known bone could even burn before that.

Once the saw had done the brunt of the work, Jack reached in and pulled, splintering bones already made more brittle from the gun they’d shot him with before they caught him, a burn deep within himself that he knew to be the burn of the ecto coating.

The entire time, the ghost on screen tried to scream, tried to fight, wrists straining against iron clad, phase proof shackles. All he managed to do was cry.

Danny pleaded with his body to move, to get out, away from what played innocently on screen.

But this was a train wreck he couldn’t stop watching.

Once the bones had been cut and pulled, Maddie stepped back into view, scalpel in her hand. Jack set the saw to the table beside them, just barely still in frame, Danny’s blood dripping languidly from the serrated blades.

This was when she’d started excising organs. Danny’s heart and lungs had came out first. Again, portions surgically sliced off for smaller samples before being placed in off-screen jars.

The still open storage closet loomed at the edge of Danny’s vision.

Maddie pressed fast forward, either forgetting Danny was there or thinking he was so fascinated by their work.

He watched as every organ he had was cut out, carved up, and placed out of the camera’s view in triple speed. They were getting to the end. Or, at least, the end of what he knew. He watched as Jack again picked up the bone saw. Danny rubbed his right wrist absentmindedly.

Danny was numb at this point. That wasn’t him. It couldn’t be. He was here and alive. The glowing figure with hair stained green and a blue tint to its skin couldn’t be him, either of him.

Especially as the saw was placed against the glowing figure’s right wrist and pushed down, harshly severing tendon, muscle, bone. The hand, which had been continuing to try to pull away, slapping and punching uselessly into the air, went limp, plopping onto the table beneath him. The other hand got the same treatment. If it hadn’t been for the cuffs at his elbows, there would’ve been nothing left to hold his arms, oozing green stumps that they were.

And now for the grand finale, the last of his memory. The pain hadn’t been any worse, his entire body had been agony by then. But, as Jack had pressed the moving saw against his neck, as his vocal cords and esophagus and spinal column were hacked through, that had been the most terrifying. Because he could see Jack’s face.

Jack had been having fun.

Danny must’ve made a noise, as Maddie paused the video, glancing over to him as he pressed one hand against his throat, the vague ridge of the small line under his fingertips. “Isn’t it fascinating? All those human adjacencies! Oh, don’t worry, sweetheart,” she said, noticing how he held his neck, “remember, ghosts can’t feel pain! They also can’t die that way, since Phantom managed to escape.”

Danny’s eyes drifted to the bar at the bottom of the video - since it was paused, it showed how much longer was left of the video.

It was only halfway.

Maddie continued. “Which has me so upset, still! Your father convinced me to turn the recording off when we left, to save memory, so we don’t know how he got out!”

A nod of acknowledgement was all he could manage. He knew the rest of what happened, even if he didn’t remember it. His last memories were as he was being beheaded. But he knew more limbs had been removed. He’d been stitched back together, reminded of how Frankenstein’s monster was supposed to look, just less lopsided and with better stitches. He’d apparently slept for a week when he first got to the Far Frozen. They’d had to sew him up at most major joints and some random spots - neck, wrists, elbows, knees, ankles. Left forearm, right calf. What was even the point of slicing him up like that, cutting organs out? What had they been hoping to learn or accomplish?

Jazz hadn’t talked about finding him. She refused to and he could not blame her. She’d told the yetis of the Far Frozen, once, and that was enough. They’d told him.

Sometimes he wished they hadn’t.

Jazz had just been looking for her parents to give them her final report card, since school had only let out three days prior. The lab had just been an obvious place to check.

The report card never made it to Jack or Maddie. Jazz had dropped it as soon as she saw the gore splattered around. Seen her little brother in pieces. She had gathered up all his body parts, though she hadn’t thought or noticed the organs missing too, and loaded them into the Speeder. She’d been running on pure instinct and theory.

Danny still glowed. He still had solid form. Surely that meant he could recover, right?

She’d been right, of course. A doctor named Hailstorm had sewn Danny’s body back together, closed the incision in his chest. The damage from being cut into a jigsaw puzzle had healed quickly - his body able to merge back to itself easily, since all those parts were still there. Inside him was another matter. His body was regrowing entire organs. His stomach was gone, he hadn’t felt hungry in so long. His heart had half reformed, the lack of blood flow making him so cold. Lungs semi there, almost ready to truly draw breath again instead of merely resting in his empty chest cavity.

He nor Jazz spent time around Jack or Maddie anymore, ever, typically even spending their nights away, but the elder Fentons didn’t notice. They never noticed. But maybe now that was a good thing. How would he ever explain his intense need to get away from them if they were even five percent as attentive as the Mansons or Foleys?

“Are you alright, honey?” Maddie asked, Danny tearing his eyes away from the frozen screen, paused right when his head had rolled to the side. He watched her for a moment, thinking. Remembering how she had flat out said they knew Phantom was half human and were still willing to slice up a child.

A fake smile was quickly plastered onto his face as he moved towards the stairs, slick ectoplasm still wet on his hands, the eyes of his would-be executioner following him. 

“I’m fine.”

Prompts:

Lexosaurus -A metal table. Of course, it was always a metal table. Berry -Danny learns he can’t die from dismemberment. Mossy-covered-bones -“Oops”

#Danny phantom #phic phight #mind the tags #grace writes

[vidawhump]

Library Lockdown 2

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Reese questioned what could be causing the noises. They shoved their books in their bag. They had just finished several assignments they'd been putting off for ages, and whatever nonsense going on upstairs was not allowed to mess with their homework.

They stalked up the stairs, not wanting to be spooked by the source of the bluster. Reese peered into the ground floor of the library. Most of the books and displays had been stowed away in beat-up cardboard boxes. They’d been replaced by tools that Reese couldn’t recognize, along with assorted trash and crumpled plastic wrappers. Flattened boxes stacked up on the front desk, almost obscuring the computer monitors and barcode scanners.

The ground floor was nearly deserted, save for one last staff member packing up to leave. She was Reese’s favorite librarian. There was something about her; the comforting ambiance she had felt as if she understood Reese better than themself. Sadly, Reese could never remember her name. Maybe someday Reese would find their lost glasses so they could actually read her name tag.

The librarian visibly brightened at the sight of Reese peeking out of the stairway.

“Reese! How’d your homework go? Don’t tell me you forgot your calculator in your locker again, ‘ya silly goose.”

Reese gave her two thumbs up and a small smile, unmoving from their spot in the stairway.

The librarian just smiled back at them, not saying anything else. She seemed to notice that Reese wasn’t in much of a talking mood that day. She picked up her bag and walked out the front doors, leaving Reese with a small but genuine smile.

More noises echoed down from the second flight of stairs beside Reese. The sounds came clearer now. They sounded almost… wooden. And people were talking. Not quite loud enough that Reese could make anything out over the clattering wood, but loud enough that it was concerning. They slowly made their way up the next flight of stairs. It felt barren. The decorations and paintings that normally littered the walls were gone. The library almost seemed haunted.

They paused to run their hand across the beige drywall. Only thumbtack holes and Sharpied scribbles remained after the mosaics were removed. They missed the Lego library logo halfway up the stairs. Lifeless. But also… dangerous, in a way that sent shivers down Reese’s spine.

Another wooden clattering rung out accompanied by shouting and laughing. Right. The noises. Reese left their sentiments on the stairway and crept to the second floor.

They briefly considered that the remodelers had arrived early and had been messing around. Maybe that was why there was so much noise. Surely, that was it, and Reese could go home. But Reese couldn't leave without knowing for sure.

Before they could fully peer into the second floor, a hammer flew by, almost hitting Reese in the head.

… Maybe the remodelers just really hated Reese. Or maybe they're using drugs. Or both. Reese should stop trying to rationalize the situation that they hadn't fully uncovered.

Once Reese felt that no more flying hammers were going to attack them, they were able to fully examine the condition of the second floor.

It was in more disarray than the ground floor. The computers were shattered and broken on the floor and shiny glass shards scattered below the desks. The books, mainly informational and reference, were strewn across the floor. Several bookshelves were knocked over and into each other. Large wooden panels were laid all over the torn carpet.

And Reese might have been able to rationalize everything, if not for the people drilling the plywood across the windows and gawking at each other. They couldn’t have been much older Reese, and couldn’t possibly be the remodelers. One of the intruders threw another hammer, thankfully not at Reese again, but at one of the other intruders.

Whatever they were up to couldn't be any good.

Library Lockdown Taglist: @loonybun @rainbowsandwhumperflies @whumpy-wyrms @rainydaywhump

#library lockdown writing #library lockdown #reese oc #academia whump #my writing

[truerhearts]

Dark Academia one shot

Eren x Reader X Levi love triangle

I've had this idea in my head for a while: a Dark academia series with an Eren x reader x levi love triangle. Here's a little snippet of that. I'm debating making it a full series if I have time to write it.. but let me know what you think!

(Y/n) quickly walked the corridors of the castle hall in search of the library. She needed to find a copy of some literature texts that were assigned as homework that she had completely forgotten about. She was falling asleep at her desk when she was awoken by utter panic realizing she hadn’t started her paper yet, so she threw on her robes, shoved a bottle of ink and a few quills in her bag, along with some paper, and quickly made her way down the halls.

Few students were wandering about, chatting amongst each other, or slowly making their way back to their dormitories, looking utterly exhausted.

“Hey, (y/n)!” Her friend, Jean called as he saw her rushing down the hall. By the time she registered who it was, she had already far passed him. She quickly looked over her shoulder and waved to him. “Hi!” Before continuing to her destination.

Once she finally made it to the library, she pushed past the large wooden doors.

The librarian was already gone for the evening, and it was quiet. Out the large library windows you could see the vast grounds of the castle. Snow danced from the dark clouded sky and added to the already thick blanket that covered the ground.

The library was one of her favourite places in the castle. It was magnificent. The ceilings were unbelievably tall and many of the shelves managed to reach the top, only accessible by ladders and the occasional flight of stairs. She was terrified of heights and hoped she’d never have to search for a book at those heights.

She was scanning through the books in the section dragging her fingers along the spines. She found the one her class was assigned to study. She noticed there was a book missing from the collection. She thought it was rather odd because the librarian may have fixed it before leaving, aligning the books to make sure there were no empty spaces in the middle. She shrugged and removed a book from the shelf.

She began to make her way to the seating area, turning the corner and pausing for a moment when she noticed the light from a candle. She peeked further around the shelves and saw another student. She noticed he was writing notes from the same book she was assigned, dipping his quill carefully in his ink jar before gracefully scribbling on his parchment.

Upon further inspection she realized she recognized the boy from her class. She didn’t know his name, or couldn’t remember it at least, but was he ever handsome. In class he sat at the back near the door, was always the last to arrive and the first to leave. He was quite elusive, as she didn’t see him in the great hall during meals, if he was even there.

He heard her gentle footsteps as she peeked further yet and turned to look at her, his green eyes immediately meeting hers. His gaze immediately sent a shiver down her spine. The candle gently illuminated his face giving her the perfect view of his features.

“Hello,” she said, feeling a bit nervous, slowly walking towards him. The sound of her footsteps on the stone floor echoed through the vastness of the library. She paused at the end of the table, still a foot or two away from him.

“Hey,” he said cooly. He noticed the book in her arms and connected the dots, so she assumed. “You’re in Professor Smith’s class as well?” He asked.

“Yes.” She stepped forward. The boy motioned for her to have a seat and she obliged, placing her bag on the chair beside her. She sat across from him, sharing the candlelight.

“Eren.” He said, holding his hand out.

“(Y/n).” She said, taking his hand. It was surprisingly smooth, and quite warm.

She admired him without trying to make it obvious. He was very handsome, his dark brown hair thrown up messily, some strands framing his face. His black tie was loosened, and the first few buttons of his shirt were opened. She felt herself growing more nervous with every second of silence that passed. While he was secretive and mysterious, he exuded such confidence that it was impossible to ignore. She swallowed thickly, not knowing what to say next. Thankfully, he was the one to break the silence, retracting his hand as the handshake was done.

“I forgot about the assignment until a few hours ago.” He admitted, breaking the silence, scribbling some notes on his paper.

“Same,” she said. “That’s why I’m here now. Just trying to start it.”

“Would you so want to work together a bit?”

She glanced down at his paper, which was almost filled with notes. He had been working hard that evening.

“Sure,” she said. “I don’t really know where to begin.” She pulled out her own quill, ink, and paper.

“I’ll share what I have so far,” he said, leaning in and turning his paper towards her.

They began to collaborate on their assignment, sharing ideas and building off one another. She was surprised at Eren. For someone who wasn’t fond of literature, he was well versed in the topic, using words and phrases that she wouldn’t have even thought of using.

They must have been there for a few hours, as the candle had nearly burnt through the whole wick, the wax dripping onto the table below.

They could have kept going if they hadn’t gotten interrupted.

A new pair of heavy footsteps echoed through the empty library. A figure began approaching, slowly coming into view. Eren looked over his shoulder and (y/n) looked past Eren.

“Professor Ackerman,” Eren said, turning his body in his chair.

Professor Ackerman was their physics professor, the class that (y/n) wasn’t too fond of all. Though, she did have a soft spot for the professor, an innocent little crush… To be fair he was as young as they came. She heard he was also a student just a few short years ago. He excelled in physics and the university wanted him to stay to continue his research as well as teach.

He strides towards them, his finger wrapped tightly around a candle stick holder. A lit candle flame flickered rather violently, threatening to extinguish itself at a moment’s notice if the professor didn’t let up.

“What are you two doing here?” He said in his regular monotone voice. His brow was furrowed, and while he never showed much emotion, she could feel the irritation radiating from him.

“Working on literature.” (Y/n) piped up. The professors’ grey eyes turned to her, another gaze that sent a shiver down her spine.

“The library is closed now.” He said flatly. “It’s time for you to head back to your dorms. He turned on his heels, expecting the two students to follow.

“We need to put our books away- “Eren stated. The professor stopped.

“Leave them. Let’s go.”

Eren and (y/n) exchanged looks as they gathered their things. Eren blew the candle out before they ran to catch up to the professor.

The three exited the library and the professor closed the doors behind them.

“Mr. Yeager, I trust you can make it back to your dorm? And I trust that you will go straight there?” Professor Ackerman asked.

“Yes, sir.” Eren said. Eren gave (y/n) an unsure look before departing, not wanting to get reprimanded.

Professor Ackerman turned towards (y/n). He looked at her up and down carefully, his gaze unnecessarily cold. (Y/n) looked past him and saw Eren walking away. It was almost as if he felt her gaze, as he looked over his shoulder at her one more time before pressing on.

“I’ll walk you back to the ladies’ dormitories.” The professor said, drawing her eyes back to him.

“I know my way back,” she said hesitantly.

His eyebrow twitched, “I need to make sure you go back there.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and began walking in the direction of the ladies’ dorms. “Let’s go, I want to go to bed.” He said flatly.

They walked in silence for a bit, her head hanging low as she shuffled behind him.

They were both silent for most of the walk, her eyes occasionally moving from the floor in front of her to the back of her teacher’s head. Her stomach was swirling with different emotions. On one hand she was nervous. She did have a small childish crush on her professor, but she knew nothing could or should ever come of it. On the other hand, she was upset with him because she was having a great time studying with Eren in the library. She didn’t want it to end.

She felt conflicted…

“Here we are,” the professor said as they approached the entrance to the ladies’ dorms. “Don’t let me catch you out past curfew anymore… or there will be consequences next time… Our university is a prestigious one and there are rules in place. You should be honored to be studying here.”

She didn’t reply, gazing at his feet, not knowing what to do.

He then cupped her chin, guiding her head so her eyes would meet his grey ones once again. “Do I make myself clear, (y/n)?” He asked. He seemed to linger on the names a bit, and she was surprised he even remembered it with all the students he interacted with every day.

“Y-yes… sir.” She uttered. He held her chin for what felt like an eternity, examining every feature of her face.

“Also… you should stay away from that boy.” He said, gazing into her eyes. Her heart skipped a beat at his words. “I think you deserve much better.”

Before she could question why, his hand left her chin, and he began walking down the hall. His touch still burned her skin as she starred at him, dumbfounded as he continued. He tucked his hands in his pockets, the only remnant of him were his echoing footsteps until those too had become lost in the darkness of the corridor.

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