#I’m utterly breathless holy shit

[whiskeyswifty]

For the love of god hiiiiiiii hellllOOOOOOOOO

[mamawasatesttube]

#45 “I can’t imagine this world without you.” could be any of the core four toward Kon

A figure stands at the foot of Kon’s bed.

He snaps from mostly-asleep to wide awake in an instant, adrenaline spearing through his chest as he hurls himself into the air, legs flailing as his TTK shoves the blankets away. Krypto jerks out of his sleep in shock—

Wait. Why didn’t Krypto bark about someone coming in?

And then Kon’s tired brain belatedly kicks into gear, and the outline of the silhouette staring at him settles into familiarity. He falls back to the bed with a thump, heart still thundering in his chest.

“Jesus, Imp, are you trying to give me a heart attack?” He barely catches himself, swallows down the Like Pa? on the tip of his tongue. “Holy shit, dude!”

Bart doesn’t move. That sets off alarm bells. He just stands there, arms wrapped around himself, and mutters, “Sorry.”

Krypto stands, stretches, ambles in a circle, and settles back down. Kon softens, concern replacing the fading alarm thrumming in his chest. He stifles a yawn. “S’okay.” His TTK reaches out, skims along the floor and up Bart’s legs, encircles Bart’s wrist and tugs him closer. “C’mere, sit. What’re you doing here? It’s, like… I dunno. Late-o’clock.”

“It’s just past three.” Bart sinks onto the edge of Kon’s mattress gingerly, like he’s not sure if he belongs there. His heartbeat could be a hummingbird. “Sorry for waking you. I didn’t mean to.”

Kon snorts. Drapes an arm over his shoulders and tugs him into his side. “What, you just wanted to watch me sleep like some kinda creep?”

For a moment that lingers far too long, Bart is tense. Then, like a switch has flipped, he slumps into Kon’s side like a puppet whose strings have been abruptly cut; he turns his face into Kon’s shoulder and throws one leg over Kon’s lap, grabs two handfuls of his shirt, and—to Kon’s dismay—sniffles.

Oh, shit.

“Imp?” Kon cajoles, gentler. He wraps his other arm around him, too, and drapes his TTK around his entire body. Bart says it’s kind of like a weighted blanket when he does that. “Hey, man, it’s okay. You’re okay. Was it—was it a nightmare, or…?”

Bart died, same as Kon, except worse because of how the Speed Force slurped him up like a bowl of noodles. Or something. Bart’s explained it; Kon still doesn’t quite get it, but he’s pretty sure it sucked. No wonder it’s got Bart fucked up. They’ve only been back a few weeks. Bart’s probably here ‘cuz Kon’s the only one he knows who also died, right? Even if Kon’s death wasn’t as fucked up as his?

“It’s been a nightmare,” Bart says fiercely, then sniffles again. “I—I woke up thinking I was still—that it was a dream and I was still the stupid Flash and you never came back, and—” He sucks in a shaky breath. “You don’t get it. I can’t—I can’t imagine this world without you. And I had to live in it. You—you—”

Wait.

What?

Bart breaks off, beats a fist helplessly against Kon’s shoulder. Kon sits, utterly shellshocked. He thought the nightmare was about Bart’s death, not…

“Oh,” he manages, breathless. There’s a strange tightness in his chest that he doesn’t want to acknowledge. “You… Imp, I…” Shit, shit, what does he even say to that? “I’m here. It’s okay.” That just sounds like platitudes. Uh… uhhh… “No wonder you wanted to creep on me at three in the morning.”

Wait, no. Why is it that every time he doesn’t know how to respond to something, he exclusively makes bad jokes?

But Bart lets out a watery laugh against his shoulder, his fist relaxing before he curls his fingers into Kon’s shirt again, and relief floods through Kon’s chest. “Grife, I wasn’t creeping.”

“You were totally creeping.” Kon hesitates for a moment, then risks dropping a kiss to the top of Bart’s hopelessly wind-mussed head. “Next time, you can just get in bed with me, doofus.”

Bart peeps up at him, golden eyes almost grey in the blue night. “…Can I stay tonight?”

“Duh.” Kon flops backwards onto his pillows, hauling Bart with him. Bart squawks, but rearranges himself against Kon’s side after a moment, hugging his arm to his chest. “Ma’ll be thrilled to see you at breakfast.”

“True.” Bart sighs, smushing his face into Kon’s shoulder. Kon can feel his lips curve into a tiny smile. “Your grandma loves me.”

Kon sighs. The “grandma” title is more debatable than whether she loves Bart. “I know, Imp. Now go to sleep.”

“You can’t tell me what to do,” Bart mumbles, but his eyelashes brush Kon’s shoulder as he closes his eyes.

A comfortable silence settles over them both. Kon’s nearly asleep again when Bart’s hand creeps over onto his chest, and settles right over his beating heart. It makes him smile to himself as he drifts off again, content in the quiet night.

[forthehpfanboys]

Three is a Crowd

Pair: Remus Lupin x Reader x Sirius Black; he/him.

Summary: Sirius, you and Remus weren't scared to hide your relationship, but when it came to more.. Private matters, they obviously preferred keeping it personal. Plus, who doesn't love teasing Remus?

Warnings: SMUT (MDI), dirty talk, poly relationship, Wolfstar (but is that even a warning?), hair pulling, short mention of daddy. use of a collar at the end. If I missed any, please dm me.

Notes: Me, knowing damn well I have a busy life, but takes every request I get because I can’t say no. Oh, and the gif by me using other people's gifs- Might make a part two. Top Remus tho. 

~DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE~

-

It wasn’t hard to catch the boy's attention. James and Lily loved to joke that they were wrapped around your finger, which they were. All you had to do was sway your hips a little bit or bend over right or just lick your lips innocently. They really were, they weren't afraid to admit it and of course you used it to your advantage, but you still love them. That always came first.

 Sirius and Remus had fallen head over heels for you during their time during Hogwarts. Both could pinpoint it exactly. The two men were already an item when you showed up at the school- a transfer student. You were introduced to them by Lily, something about you being a distant cousin of hers and you quickly became a new founded Marauder. 

Remus fell for you first. It was around the time they were all studying to become animagus and he discovered you were bloody brilliant! After months of struggling with the stupid ritual, you were the final piece they needed to figure it all out. And you didn’t judge him over something he couldn’t control, so that was a bonus to him, of course. But how could you judge him for his lycanthropy? Almost everyone in the wizarding world hated him for this one simple thing, 

Meanwhile, Sirius’ was a lot more simple. He noticed you by your slick comebacks. Like holy Merlin’s beard- Sirius was convinced your words could cause someone to physically combust. He’d never seen that happen, but he has seen you make 8th years cry. He’s also a hundred percent certain you have a thesaurus lying under your pillow. He didn’t know the word ‘imbecile’ had so many synonyms. And you helped him help his best friend so of course he fell in love with you.

So, when you fell for them, a natural love for being between both boys formed. This random craving would kick in whenever you were around the two of them. Whether it was you three walking to the next class or sitting in the Gryffindor common room, you just had to be between them. It was quite literally your favorite place on this planet. But there were rules- of course there were.  

One of the main rules was no teasing in front of friends. Believe it or not, James had a limit on how much sexual tension he could sit through in one lunch period, so he enforced the rule, which was.. Unusual to say the least. Usually Remus created the rules to keep you and Sirius in check. He had a switch and a sub under his belt and it could be a struggle, especially when they were bratty and they’d team up against him.

Which is exactly what you two had been doing all day; harassing poor Moony despite whoever was near. During potions, Sirius had palmed Remus while you playfully whispered in the werewolf’s ear, calling him daddy and asking for help with your most innocent voice. Watching your boyfriend squirm and slap Sirius’ hand away was genuinely humorous. It became down right funny when he threatened to punish both of you by not talking to you, but you both knew he’d do more than that. Knowing Remus would drag you both by your ties to the dorm room and straight up ruin you two, you both eased off him, letting him continue his notes in peace, but once potions were over, the teasing immediately continued.

Soon enough, classes were over and the three of you were walking back to the dorms. It was easy to see Remus was sick of your shit, so while he led you to his prefect room, you and Sirius were looking at each other. Sirius shrugged, looking as laid back as he felt, but you were a tad more nervous. Sometimes Remus could be downright mean. 

“You two are insufferable!” Remus hollered, his hand rubbing his temple as he shoved open his door. “I know you love my reactions, guys, but seriously? Was grabbing my ass over my robe necessary?” He had his arms crossed over his chest and turned around to glare at you and Sirius. 

“You know it was, baby.” Sirius winked while shutting the door behind him. He walked around you, dragging a hand across your lower back before diving onto Remus’  bed. He laid on his back, spreading his legs and placing his hands behind his head. Your eyes shamelessly dragged across the sliver of pelvic bone peaking out under his white collared shirt.

“I thought it was a bit much.” You shrugged, looking over to Moony’s glowing eyes. A smirk grew across your lips when he pointed at you, his eyes narrowing at you.

“Being a kiss ass does not mean you’re free, mister. You’re in just as much trouble as that one.” His point moved to the man laying on the bed, who clearly couldn’t care less. He ran a hand through his hair and plopped down onto the edge of the bed. He even smacked Sirius’ hand away when it gripped his hip. “Down, boy.”

“Ouchies! My pride.” Sirius mocked your voice and rubbed his hand, a chuckle leaving his lips. He couldn’t help but lick his lips. His dark eyes flicked over to you, his smirk growing as he nodded his head in the direction of Remus’ back.

“Good. I’m mad at you.” The werewolf ducked his head down before running a hand through his hair, making the curly locks messier than usual. He beckoned you over with two curling fingers and waited patiently for you to stand in front of him. Once you were in arms reach, he cupped both of your cheeks in each hand and smiled at you, bringing your face closer to his. “What am I going to do with you?” He whispered, his breath fanning over your lips. 

“I’m not sure, but I know Sirius technically did more damage than I did. I’m your bestest boy.” You grinned, grabbing his wrists and kissing a palm. Your grin turned into a side smirk when Sirius let out a weak ‘hey!’ behind your brunette boyfriend. 

Suddenly, Remus’ arms were twisting around your waist and he was falling backwards onto the bed, taking you down with him. You let out a yelp while colliding with your soft boyfriend's chest.

“I think I know what I’m going to do with you.” Remus’ head was resting on Sirius’ tummy, allowing the animagus to run his fingers through soft hazel nut locks, which Remus easily ignored. Meanwhile, Lupin was cheekily slipping his hand under your shirt. His calloused palms glided across your skin, rubbing your hip gently before moving up to your belly. “I’m going to ignore the little bastard behind me and I’m going to focus on you, pretty boy.”

“Hey! (Y/n) messed with you too, Rem! You’re being unfair!” Sirius sat up a little, bracing his body weight on his elbows as he glared down at his freckle covered partner. His jaw dropped when Remus flicked his nose before skillfully tugging your shirt over your head. “Un-fuckin’-believable.” Sirius grumbled, laying back on the bed and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Your smart mouth is why I’m ignoring you.” Remus spoke nonchalantly, one hand slipped into your back pocket, gave your butt a tight squeeze, while the other steadily began climbing toward your chest. His hand in your pocket held your hips down while his hips grinded up into yours. His eyes darkened at the needy whine that left your lips when his rough thumb pad ran over one of your nipple.

See, Remus always enjoyed seeing you react to him. He could write down all of it. He could fill enough books with his favorite things about you to cause an empty Hogwarts library to overflow. How your eyes would roll back into your skull, how your jaw would go slack with need and how your breath catches in the middle of your throat, leaving you breathless, how you’d moan his name. He loved wrecking you, utterly destroying you.

His scar covered hand moved up to your hip, getting a steadier grip so he could really raise his hips and roll them against yours. The hand on his chest delicately rolled a nipple between the thumb and forefinger. He thought you were a piece of art, painted just for him. Your heart was pounding in your ears. Remus was quickly becoming the only coherent thought in your head. You could smell his perfume and it was only fogging up your head worse than his touch. You let out a moan, your eyelids drooping a tad.

"You like that, baby?" he whispered into your open mouth, kissing the corner before sliding his lips down to the corner of your jaw. He licked a fat, flat line across the point, running up to your earlobe before sucking on it. 

The werewolf grinded up into you harder, a growl emitting from his throat that would scare even the toughest of creatures. He let out a loud, breathy loan when you nodded and copied his hip movements. 

"Of course you do. You're not a brat or a whiney bitch- you're perfect." 

Suddenly, Sirius was sitting up and Remus was going silent, almost frozen in his place. Both were listening quite intently over your heavy breathing when loud, stomping footprints made themselves known. Sirius watched in amusement while Remus threw you on to the empty bed space next to him and magicked a blanket over the both of you.

James was pushing open the door about as loudly and hazardously as his footsteps. The door bounced off the wall and collided with his still outstretched arm. You sat up, slowly coming back from the pleasure filled bliss, and slowly becoming more and more pissed you just got cock-blocked by one of your more oblivious friends.

“James, sorry, mate, we’re in the mi-” Sirius was rudely cut off by the messy haired idiot. Spit flew from James’ mouth as he spoke aggressively, his hand waving around as he spoke.

"Can you believe him?!" the Seeker hollered, acting as if his friends, best friends knew immediately what he was talking about. He strode into the middle of the room, pacing in front of the polygamous couple, clearly pissed. It didn't take long for Peter to follow in after, either. 

"No, Prongs, you're not exactly telling us anything." Remus spoke up, acting as if he totally wasn't just grinding against you. He was good at keeping his voice level and that it had you confused. 

"Little Sour Grape Snape thinks he can try to push that whole fiasco on me like I meant for it to happen?" James yelled out again, almost completely ignoring Remus. Peter sat on the bed across from the trio, his eyes glued to James as he paced. You looked at Sirius, who turned to you, and shrugged, scooting to sit right next to Remus.  

"Wanna share what's goin' on, Pete?" Sirius asked, finally scooting to be face to face with the soft boy, and sitting on the other side of Remus. His hand landed on Remus' thigh, gently rubbing over the blanket.

The chubby boy played with his fingers, his mouth opening quickly to tell the tale of Snape and his stupid complaining and blood status shit. However, Remus, nor you, could focus because Sirius’ hand was moving under the blanket and going straight between Remus’ legs. 

The sun was setting behind the vast forest, effectively blocking natural light, leaving the room slightly colder and darker than before. Sirius knew it was hard to see what was going on under the blanket, so all carefulness got thrown out the window. 

Sirius' hand slid between Remus' thighs, using a hand to hide his smirk. He nodded his head along, as if he was really listening and invested in the story. You turned to Sirius, following his arm and the lump under the blanket and got the idea- and it only became reinforced when Sirius gave you a dramatic wink.

Your own hand slid under the blanket, landing on your werewolf boyfriend's knee, you thumb caressing it gently. Your hand didn’t stay there long. You began to move it up, moving slowly, just inch by inch, stopping suddenly when Remus’ hand clamped around your wrist.

“Boys, stop it.” Remus growled out, but it seemed more directed to Sirius. You were worried for a second that James or Peter heard, but when they kept going on and on, delving deeper and deeper into the story, you realized they were absolutely clueless. You decided to test the waters, slowly running your hand down and then back up, a tad higher, but Moony left his hand on your wrist.

“I said, cut it out. Now.” The brunette’s voice was deep enough to cause a shudder to go down your spine and it went straight to your dick. You jumped when his hand landed on your thigh, giving you a warning squeeze that you once again ignored and moved your hand closer to the inside of his thigh. 

You felt fingers run over yours at the top of his thigh and suddenly Remus’ thigh muscles were tightening. Padfoot had run his fingers over his hard-on. You knew you were both pushing it, but you kept going. You heard the brunette groan into his hand, his eyelids fluttering for a second before his gaze hardened and he sunk his teeth into his bottom lip. You could hear the low growl emitting from this throat.

So while James and Peter told their elaborate and stupidly long story, you both teased your partner, enjoying how he tried to sit still and refused to even look at you two. Remus’ jaw was pulled tight, his eyes darker than the night, and his lips drawn into a thin line. Eventually, it came to an end, and the two left, James complaining loudly that no one cared like he did and suddenly the blanket was thrown across the room.

Remus stood up, giving you a glare that you couldn’t help but find hot as hell. You always loved riling him up, but you also loved managing to wiggle out of punishments. Sirius always bitched about you getting away nearly scot free, but you’d just blow raspberries at him. It was funny, honestly, not that you were laughing now. It was clear both of you took it too far.

“You two are in a whole heap of fucking trouble. I can not believe you today, especially you. You’re such a bad influence on my baby.” Remus pointed at Sirius, his brows drawn tight together in pure anger. His eyes were lit up like with fire and the veins on his neck were protruding from underneath the skin in the sexiest way. The simple feature had you clenching your thighs, hoping to release some tension or get a touch or something.

“Our baby. Besides, you’re overreacting Rem.” Sirius shrugged, leaning back on his hands. He blew a stand of hair out of his face, acting like everything was fine and dandy while his boyfriend had steam blowing out of his ears.

His simple sentence caused the brunette’s eye to twitch and you knew he had dug himself a bigger whole. You put your hands in your lap like a good boy and sat, watching the two argue, knowing it was going to be a very long night.

“Oh. I’m overreacting, huh? Do you wanna say that again?” His tone was so flat, almost like he was talking to an idiotic teenager who did exactly what he was told not to do, the messy haired animagus was sitting up quickly, realizing he fucked up- again.

“No, no. That’s not what I meant, baby, you’re getting my words twisted. I meant it’s my fault and that you might be getting a tad carried away. Please don’t be mad at me.” Sirius put on his most dazzling smile and softest voice. He was trying to do what you did so well and wiggle his way out of punishments. “Have I ever mentioned how hot you look when you're mad?”

It was funny, really, how Sirius was saying exactly what you were thinking.

“No, dove, I’m not mad at you.” Remus threaded his hand slowly through Sirius' wavy hair, a small, sweet smile spread across his cheeks. Sirius let out a sigh, a huge grin matching his boyfriends, his eyes sparkling with pure joy in the dim light.

"I'm glad you're so understanding, honey bunches. I love you so, so, so much." Sirius spoke, leaning forward, lips puckered to plant a kiss to the brunettes. You really thought he had known Moony better. Moony very, very rarely let either of you off the hook for something like this. 

However, Remus didn't let him move very far. His fingers latched onto the hair at the top of Sirius' head and ripped it back, causing his neck to bend backward and a whorish moan escaped his lips. Siri’s hands shot up to grip the one tugging his head back and he had to strain his eyes to look at his Moony.

"I’m fucking livid, Sirius. You're such a slut. Surely you know me better than that. Have I ever let you get away with behavior like that?” Remus waited for an answer. He wasn’t very patient though, because soon, he was pulling on the long locks again. “Well?”

“No.” Sirius groaned out. He seemed grumpy he couldn’t cute his way out of this like he was sure you could. You figured you could probably avoid the punishment by sneaking out, knowing Remus wouldn’t send a search party after you. And if you made a good enough excuse, he’d let you go with a harsh spanking and the promise of no orgasms for the day, which didn’t seem too terrible.

“Do I have to treat you like a slut?" his lips pressed against a pulse point but didn't place a single kiss to Sirius' lips. "Maybe I should put a muzzle on your filthy mouth and tie you up. Put you in the closet while I fuck our dearest silly, hmm?"

Remus pulled away, this time tugging Sirius' eyes level with his. The werewolf let out a snicker, enjoying the way tears of pain had gathered in his boyfriends eyeline.

"I should teach you who's in charge. What do you say pumpkin?" Remus turned to the spot where you were seated and noticed it was empty. "Pumpkin?" He turned around and saw you trying to sneak out of the dorms door.

He reached into his pocket, tsking all the while casting a spell that caused a collar to appear around your neck with a pop. You let out a squeak, your heads going to the new leather.

"Do I have to put both of you in your place?” Remus pushed Sirius away and walked swiftly over to you, grabbing the d ring on the front of your collar. He gave it a tug, effectively keeping your eyes on his. “You’re not being my good boy, are you?”

“No..” Unlike Sirius, you answered quickly. You looked up at Remus, eyes wide, owlish and feigning innocence. “But I-”

“Quiet. You’re usually so good for me, darling. I bet you picked up the disrespect from our boyfriend, didn’t you? I’m gonna have to fuck the attitude out of you.” He tugged on the d-ring, dragging you with him as he walked back over to the bed. “Sirius, against the headboard.”

Without hesitation, the niorette shuffled toward the headboard, resting his back against it. He learned quickly to keep his mouth shut. With the new space made, Remus pushed you forward and laughed when your hands came out in front of you to catch your fall, but slipped on the silk bedspread. Your chest collided with the plush mattress, a pained cry leaving your lips when your knees collided with the wooden floor.

“Owie, Rem!” You turned to look back at him, but he grabbed your hair and forced your cheek against the mattress. You looked back at him, your cheeks turning pink with embarrassment and you tried to pout your way out of this, like usual.

“Shut up, bunny. Daddy’s not going easy on you this time, so be a good boy and take what I fucking give you.”

[inkandpen22]

The Princess and The Pogue (pt. 4)

Pairing: JJ x Female!Reader / Topper x Female!Reader

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: swearing, angst

Part Summary: You wake up at the Chateau in JJ’s arms. When you receive a urgent call from Topper, you return to the Figure 8, much to JJ’s dismay. 

Masterlist

You wake up to the sound of a faint buzzing. A small groan leaves your throat as you attempt to stretch out your limbs, but are trapped beneath the weight of an arm. Your eyes flicker open and adjust to the golden rays pouring in from the window. JJ doesn't even shift, completely unaware of your moving. You recognize the sound of your phone buzzing and dig around the recliner. You two must've fallen asleep during the movie. Kiara and Pope remain on the floor, sprawled out like starfish. The couch is empty, John B and Sarah are probably in his room. You finally manage to find your phone beneath JJ's hip. You do your best to slide it out without waking him. Slowly, you climb out of the chair, placing JJ's arm down gently. 

“Hello?” You whisper, suppressing a yawn as you step out to the porch to not wake the others. 

“Hey, Princess," Topper's worried voice echoes through the device. "Did I wake you?”

 You settle down on the couch in a ball, shaking your head as if Topper can see you. “No, No, it’s okay," you lie for his sake. "Is everything alright?” 

“It’s Rafe..." he sighs. "He kinda got outta hand last night and he hasn’t been to bed yet. He keeps saying he’s going to go to your house. I don’t think your parents should see him like this.” 

“What?" Your brows scrunch together in confusion. Slowly, the events of last night are creeping back to you. You remember all of it, but some parts are only flashes like photographs. "I’m not even home.” 

“Wait, where are you then?” Topper questions, sounding just as confused as you. 

“I uh... I stayed at Sarah's," you conjure up on a whim. 

“Okay..." he replies, not sounding fully convinced. "well do you think you could stop by my place or something? Rafe won’t shut up until he sees you. Thank God my mom left for Atlanta this morning. I can pick you up if you need.” 

“No, it’s okay. I’ll uh... I’ll borrow Sarah’s car or something. I’ll text you when I’m on my way," you determine. 

“Okay, see you then," Topper agrees, hanging up the phone. 

You drop the device in your lap, resting your forehead against your knees. None of this feels real. What are you even doing here? One minute you and Topper are stumbling out of the locker room and the next you're making out with JJ in a hammock. Holy shit, you made out with JJ in a hammock! Topper is going to kill you! He can't know. No, he can never know. 

“Morning Baby," JJ greets as he steps out onto the porch. He rubs his eyes as he walks over to join you. 

“Morning, sorry that I woke you up,” you apologize. 

"Don't be." He plops down next to you, bringing his arm to rest between your tucked legs. His hand is warm against your exposed knee. A part of you wants to cling to him like a koala, but your mind is also on Topper. "Who was that?” He yawns. 

“Topper," you answer truthfully, though it was hesitant. "Apparently, Rafe is acting out and keeps asking for me. I’m gonna head over there to calm him down a little." 

“Wait, what!" JJ's eyes widen, processing what you said. "By yourself?” 

“JJ, it’s okay! It’s just Topper and Rafe,” you snicker at his dramatic reaction. 

“Yeah! Rafe!" He repeats, turning his body toward you. His arm between your legs moves to your back and is replaced with his free one. "The guy who gave you laced weed, Babe!" 

Your lower lip pouts slightly as you're appreciative of his concern though it's not necessary. Impulsively, you bring your hand to his cheek and he leans into your touch subtly. “It’ll be fine, we’re not going to do anything. I’m just helping out Top. Once we get Rafe to chill I’ll be out of there.” 

“I’m driving,” he names his terms sternly. 

Your lips part as worry starts to build up inside you. “JJ, I don’t think that’s such a good idea. I-“ 

“I wasn’t asking," he cuts you off sharply, his lips pressed together. “Either I go with you and wait in the car or you don’t go at all," he offers an ultimatum. 

'Okay, that's hot,' you think to yourself. 

You sit stunned for a second. As much as you hate the name, you're still the Princess of the OBX, no one talks to you like that or gives you ultimatums. Yet, you can't help but be utterly compliant when it comes to JJ Maybank. 

“Okay," you nod, trying your hardest to not blush, but ultimately fail. "As long as there’s no Pogue vs. Kook fistfights," you add to the rules. 

JJ notices your eyes wandering to his lips and leans forward with a smirk. “I can’t make any promises.” 

You grin as JJ brushes his lips against yours, bringing you in for a kiss. When he woke up JJ was nervous that he fucked up last night and that you'd regretted everything. It's just JJ always assuming the worst to avoid disappointment. His arm on you was him testing the waters. After a second, once learning that you're not going to pull away, he deepens the kiss. Your fingers comb through his luscious hair and grip the roots slightly. His hand on your knee steadily glides down your skin, moving between your legs. 

"Oh no!" You gasp against his lips, realizing something. 

JJ jumps, breaking his lips from yours and flying his hands off. “Woah, what! Sorry!” He thought maybe his hand may have set you off or something. He’s not sure what your boundaries are or anything, everything is still so new. 

“I don’t have a change of clothes!" You tell him. 

“Jesus," he rolls his eyes, finally able to breathe again. "Wear my shirt you’re wearing,” he gestures to the black AC/DC shirt hanging on you. 

You raise your eyebrows. “And have them start a fight? No way! They'll know it’s not mine," you explain stressfully. 

"You're right, tell them it's your boyfriend's and to mind their own damn business," JJ determines with a carefree shrug. Only after a couple seconds does he process that he called himself your boyfriend, having not discussed that yet. 

You raise your brows at his remark. A faint laugh escapes you, as if that would go over well with the boys. “As much as I would love to, I don’t think that would go well considering Rafe is already losing his mind.” 

A rush of relief consumes JJ when you don’t reject him. In fact, he’s over the moon when you don’t deny that he’s indeed your boyfriend. 

“So..." JJ drags out, gliding your fingers up and down your thigh. "Did you give Topper a specific time?” 

“No, just that I’d be over as soon as possible." You smirk, already knowing what he's thinking. "Why?” 

"Because if I remember correctly," he purrs into your ear with a smirk. "We were rudely interrupted last night..."

 As much as you'd love to do what JJ has in mind, you owe it to Topper to show up at a decent time. "We have the rest of the day for that," you move back a little, much to JJ's disappointment. He groans, making you giggle. "If Rafe acts up any more than he already has and goes to my house I'm royally screwed." 

"Okay, fine! Fine!" He rises up from the couch and offering you a hand. "But I'm holding you to your word! I expect full tomfoolery later!" 

"Deal." You lean in and plant a peck to his lips, making him blush. 

JJ grabs the keys to the Twinkie while you wait outside. You go over the plan multiple times on the way over, mainly to ease your nerves. JJ will park a few yards down the road, hidden behind the hedges that line Topper's yard. You will tell Topper that Sarah dropped you off and that you'll walk home because you live a few blocks away. Checking on Rafe will only take twenty minutes tops, but you're aiming for fifteen. You've done this before, taking care of Rafe. Get sick, chug Pedialyte, have Mcdonald's delivered, and put him to bed. 

You text Topper as soon as you're on your side of the island. 

Heading over now! 

A minute later, you receive a response. 

Awesome! See you soon! Thanks again Y/N/N. Owe you one! 

JJ does exactly as planned, making sure the Twinkie can't be seen from Topper's house. Reluctantly, he lets you out without him. He warns though that if you don't text him or give him some sign that you're okay within the ten-minute time slot he's given that he'll come in after you. You promise that you'll text him a smiley face as soon as you get the chance. 

You knock on Topper's front door a few times and wait for the tall boy to answer. After a few minutes you call for your friends. "Top! Rafe!" 

"I don't want you! I want Y/N!" You hear from the backyard and make your way back. 

"She's on her way!" Topper shouts. 

"Dude! Just sit down!" You hear Kelce add. 

"Guys?" You pop your head around the corner and find Rafe standing on the edge of Topper's pool, fully clothed in his suit from the night before. 

"Y/N! Finally!" Rafe gleams, gripping a bottle of champagne in his hand. 

"Thank God," Topper grumbles to himself as he approaches you. "Thanks again for coming," he greets with a kiss to your temple. 

"Of course," you smile as you move toward Kelce. You give him a quick side hug as you greet everyone. "When did you get here?" 

"About five minutes ago," he answers, breathless from trying to keep Rafe from jumping in. "Apparently I'm not good enough because he keeps asking for you." 

"Hey, Rafe, what's up?" You call over to the boy as stumbles over to you. 

"Geez, you are the most gorgeous girl in the OBX," he grins. 

"Oh am I now? What have you been up to?" You asking, knowing the answer. He smells of weed, sweat, and stale alcohol. His suit will no doubt need some serious dry cleaning. 

"Eh, nothing too exciting," he waves his hand and places an arm over your shoulder. "After you disappeared from the party the boys and I went back to do a few more lines. It wasn't as fun without you. Where did you go anyway? We looked all over for you." 

JJ crosses his arms over his chest. "Yeah, where'd you go?" He repeats as if you didn't explain it before on the phone. 

You frown at your best friend. Why is he acting like that? "Sarah convinced her parents to give her the car and she took me to her house while her parents were are the party," you repeat the story you rehearsed with JJ. 

"But Sarah was still at the party after we lost you. She told your parents that you left..." Topper replies slowly, almost as though he's accusing you of something. 

"Yeah, I was waiting in the car," you answer without hesitation. 

"Right..." Topper nods with narrowed eyes. 

You roll your eyes at Topper and bring your arm around Rafe. "Let's get you inside." 

"I wanted to go for a swim," Rafe whines. 

"That sounds so fun," you pretend, silently begging him to go inside without any retaliation. "Sadly, I didn't bring my suit." 

"Come on, Y/N, it's not like I haven't seen you in your underwear before," Rafe chuckles as you cross the threshold of the sliding door. 

"Nice, Rafe," Topper sarcastically remarks. 

"Oh no, I think I'm gonna be sick," Rafe coughs, hutching over next to you. 

 "I got this one," Kelce shouts, moving to get his friend toward the bathroom. 

Now that Rafe is inside and in the "get sick" stage, you move on to ordering him McDonald's. Knowing Topper's house like the back of your hand, you walk into the kitchen, leaving the boy in the living room. You hop onto the counter, your legs dangle over the edge. As you tap through your phone, Topper enters the room. 

"Are you feeling better?" He checks on you with a smile, a complete 180 from the attitude he was giving you minutes before. "I was out of it but I vaguely remember us stumbling out of the locker room," he chuckles. 

"Yeah we kinda went a little too far last night," you giggle, recalling the memory. "But I feel much better." 

Topper nods, offering you a faint smirk. He parts your legs, resting his palms on your thighs. "I'm surprised Ward let you and Sarah take his new Porsche considering he won't even let Rose drive it." 

Your heart races, shit. You didn't realize Ward took the Porsche to the party. When Sarah got to John B's she was in a BMW. 

"He must've had a lot of whiskey or something," you ramble out. 

The boy nods, bringing his hands to your hips. "Interesting... and-" Topper scrunches his brows together, glancing down at your body. "What are you wearing right now?" 

Shit. 

"It's uh... Sarah's," you blurt out what JJ said before you can think it through. 

"Sarah owns a ripped-up AC/DC shirt?" Topper snickers, not believing you for a second. 

"What? You don't?" You try to play it off. 

"Did you end up borrowing Sarah's car?" He changes the subject quickly, making your furrow your brows. 

"She dropped me off," you stick to your story. 

"That's nice of her," Topper comments, stepping closer to you. Usually, you'd like having him so close, but there's an underlying tension between you that makes you anxious. 

"For sure," you mutter, avoiding his gaze. 

"So you need a ride home?" He offers. 

"Nah, it's okay. I'll walk," you rush out. 

Topper brings his hand to the collar of your shirt, his fingertips gliding across your collar bone to rest on the side of your neck. "I kinda needed to see your brother anyway." 

You swallow hard, trying to remain calm. "For what?" 

"We're supposed to go out to the course later," he matches your quiet tone. 

"Cool," you nod faintly, starring down at your lap. 

"You and that Pogue seemed friendly last night before I came over... " Topper insinuates. 

Your head snaps up, meeting Topper's burning gaze. "Pogue? What Pogue?" 

"The one bartending," he snickers mockingly. 

"The blonde kid? Oh, not really," your brows scrunch together, nervously fidgeting with your phone case. "I only met him last night, didn't even catch his name," you lie. 

Topper tilts his head to the side. "Isn't he friends with John B? He's been around the Cameron's place a few times." 

"I haven't noticed," you shrug.

You can't tell whether he believes you or not. His stern expression never wavering. You feel trapped with his hands gripping your hips. 

"He's certainly noticed you, hasn't he?" The boy remarks with a wicked smirk as he stares at your lips. 

You shift your head back, taken aback by his words. "What does that mean?" 

"Oh come on, Y/N," Topper mutters your name, not one of his usual nicknames. "You're telling me you didn't notice him looking you up and down? It's why I came over to the bar after your dance with Rafe. I already had a full whiskey on the table." 

You snicker at the information, utterly amazed by the lengths Topper will go. "You ordered a drink just because you thought JJ was "too friendly" with me?" 

Topper narrows his eyes at you curiously. "I thought you didn't know his name?" 

Chills course over your skin as your breath hitches in your throat. Now, you remember that you haven't texted JJ and you're not sure how long it's been. 

"You want to tell me what's really going on, Y/N?" Topper presses. 

"Nothing's happening! I've gotta go," you snap, pressing a hand to his chest to urge him off of you. 

Topper grabs your wrist, removing your hand from him. Abruptly, he slams his lips to yours. Desprately, he brings his free hand to the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him. 

"Get-" you mutter against his lips as you try to fight him off. Instinctively you punch him in the chest, causing him to break from you. "Get off of me!" You gasp, hopping down from the counter as Topper stumbles back. "What the hell Topper!" 

His eyes grow wide, comprehending what he's done. He reches for you, but you cower away. "Y/N, I-" 

"No!" Your voice cracks as tears threaten to fall from your eyes. "You don't just get to do that whenever you feel like it! I'm not at your disposal when you want me!" 

He nods frantically. "I know that! I didn't-" 

"Ugh, whatever Top. I'm tired of this interrogation! You and Kelce can babysit Rafe without me!" You wave your hands as your march out of the room toward the front door. 

"Y/N! Y/N, wait!" Topper calls after you. "Y/N!" 

He follows you out the front door to the driveway in a panic. He can't believe he just kissed you, the one thing he swore he'd never do without your permission. He was just so desperate. He could feel you moving away from him and was panicking that maybe you were keeping something from him. 

"Y/N!" Topper wraps his fingers around your wrist. 

You yank your arm free as you spin on your heels to face him. "Don't grab me!" 

"Don't walk out on me!" He barks, instantly regretting it. 

Topper knows this isn't the way to get to you, but he's just so worried that you're slipping away. This wouldn't be the first time you two have fought this way, having it out in front of one of your houses. Similar to an old married couple, you two fight as passionately as you love each other. 

"You don't own me, Topper!" You remind the boy. 

"I'm just looking out for you!" He reasons in a shot. 

"You're the one who's acting like my dad right now!" You scoff. 

"Oh!" He laughs mockingly. "Is that what being an overbearing friend is called now?" 

You huff, turning over your shoulder to continue down the driveway. 

Topper stays where he is, yelling at you as your march away. "You know what, fine! Don't tell me what's going on! I just thought we were closer than that! I must've misunderstood all of last year, all of those late-night conversations and that weekend in Bermuda or all of winter break!" 

"Oh, my lord!" You groan, tossing your head back as you stop in your tracks. "Stop being so dramatic!" 

"What's he doing here?" Topper questions, his volume at a normal level. 

You frown, following his eyes as they linger behind you. Turning over your shoulder, you spot JJ standing at the end of the driveway. 

You hide your face in your hands. "Oh, Jesus-" 

"You have to be kidding me!" Topper shouts with a chuckle of frustration. 

"JJ, can you give us a minute?" You request calmly, giving the blonde a weak smile. 

"You brought him! You bring a Pogue!" Topper can't help but laugh, shocked by how this day has gone to complete shit in a span of fifteen minutes. 

Nervously, you rush over to Topper, pressing your hands to his chest. "Top, just go inside, okay!" You try your best to keep the situation civil. "I'll be inside in a minute-" 

"You're on the wrong side of the island, Pogue!" He points to JJ over his shoulder. 

"Just stick a cork in it, Prince Charming," JJ bites back from his spot. 

You huff, using all your strength to push a stubborn Topper toward the front door. He towers over you and is much stronger than you, so it's a tall task. 

"Prince Charming? Really!" Topper laughs. "Wow, got a real smartass here, Princess," he tells you. 

"Just for the love of all that good and holy go inside!" You beg of him with a grunt as you continue to guide him inch by inch. 

"Not until you get this trailer park trash off my driveway!" Topper bitterly remarks, loud enough for JJ to hear. 

"JJ and I will go as soon as we're done here," you tell him calmly with a huff, giving up on moving him. 

You step back, preparing to leave, but Topper grips your forearms. "No way you're leaving with him! No, you're staying here with us!" 

When Topper grabs you, JJ loses all cool and storms toward your friend. "Touch her again and I'll kick your ass, Kook!" JJ likes to think he's been rather rational and on his best behavior up until this point considering Topper is treating you as his property. 

"JJ! Don't!" You intercept the boy and though he could easily move you aside, he remains in your arms. 

"As if I'd leave her with your tripped-out friend and cluster of misogynistic asshole!" He points at Topper aggressively. 

"You don't know a thing about us, Pogue!" Topper pushes. 

"Topper! Enough! JJ back off!" You instruct sharply. 

With a growl, JJ walks back down the driveway, refusing to turn his back on the Kook. Cooling down slowly, he takes your hand, squeezing it tightly as he leads you toward the sidewalk. 

"You leave with him now and we're done!" Topper declares, making you stop in your tracks. "I mean it! You leave now and you're a Pogue!" 

"You don't mean that," you shake your head in disbelief. 

He laughs wickedly, "I promise you I do! It's them or us! You can't have both, Y/N!" 

It feels as though Topper has sucked all life from you. The light that he's kept going inside of you for so long has burned out. He's been your reason to be happy since you were kids and now he's threatening to desert you forever. All because you're falling for a Pogue. 

Kelce and Rafe appear in the archway of the front door. Kelce frowns, "what's going on out here?" 

"What's that Pogue doing here?"  Rafe questions. He sees your grieving expression and his wild antics become a distant memory. "Y/N?" 

You swallow hard, clenching your jaw in disgust at the Kook you once called your best friend. "Ask Topper!" 

You yank your hand free of JJ's and run down the driveway in the direction of the Twinkie. JJ jogs after you worriedly. He unlocks the car and you rush to get in. As soon as you sit down, you hunch over in your seat, your head cradled in your hands. JJ climbs in next to you and starts the car. He glances over at you and a wave of guilt consumes. He can't help but think this is all his fault. If he hadn't gone to check on you, maybe Topper wouldn't have said what he did. You wouldn't be devastated and you'd acknowledge his presence. 

JJ places a hand on your back. "Baby-" 

Before JJ can finish you cower away from him, moving your body toward the window. His heart drops as a million worst-case scenarios start to play in his mind. You hate him. You hate him now because he cost you, Topper. Of course, he already thought about what it would mean if you had to choose between him or Topper. He just had a naive inkling of hope that maybe you'd choose him and be okay, be happier with him. Now, he realizes by your disgust of him that you would've chosen Topper if Topper didn't push you toward JJ. 

_________________________________

The ride back to John B's is painfully silent. JJ had to turn on the radio five minutes in to drown out the overwhelming self-deprecating thoughts ringing in his mind. As soon as JJ rolls up to the end of the gravel driveway, you see the Pogues and Sarah gathered around the old bonfire eating breakfast. Not wanting to see them, you hop out, the car not even in park yet. 

"Hey guys! Where have-" Sarah stops as she sees you run into the house. JJ climbs out of the van and slams the door shut, grumbling various cuss words to himself. "What's wrong with Y/N?" Sarah asks him once he's closer to the group. 

"Topper called her this morning," the boy answers, pressing his lips together as he sits on an empty log. "Your brother was acting up and wouldn't chill out until he saw her. Long story short, I fucked up and intervened when things got tense with her and Topper," JJ hisses, clasping his hands together. "Topper told her that if she left with me that they wouldn't talk to her again so we left..." 

The group is silent, exchanging worried glances. Sarah's jaw is nearly in the dirt. She never thought in a million years that Topper would ever say those words to you. JJ's knee shakes up and down as he hides his head above his knees.  He rises to his feet, picking up an empty can from last night, and chucks it into the words with all his strength. "Y/N won't even fucking look at me!"

"That's not your fault, JJ," Kiara assures her friend, breaking the silence. "You did the right thing! Topper is a jerk!" 

"She'll come around. It's probably for the best that she's cut off from them. Those guys aren't good for her," Sarah adds. 

JJ exhales deeply, facing Sarah. "Do you know what happened last year or in Bermuda and Topper said something about winter break?" 

"Oh..." the girl's face falls. 

"What is it? Is it bad?" John B asks from beside her. 

"Not exactly. Topper and Y/N... Well..." she struggles to come up with the right words. 

You and Topper struggle to navigate your way through the pitch-black bungalow. You two have just gotten dropped off from the cantina in town. Half an hour before, Topper was doing body shots off of you. The boy leads you through the house, his hand wrapped tightly around yours. Through the moonlight, you notice a pillar right in Topper's path. 

“Watch out!” You gasp, tugging Topper back. 

“Oh shit!” He stumbles into you, pinning you against the wall. 

“I told you to watch out!” You giggle and peek around the corner into the living room. “Oh my god!” Your hand flies up to your mouth. 

“What! What is it?” Topper rushes out. 

“Rafe and that girl from Brazil,” you whisper, suppressing your laughter. 

“No way! You’re kidding!” Through the darkness, you can see Topper's eye grow wide as he steps to the side to see around the corner. 

“On the couch!” You instruct drunkenly. 

“Did they?” He wonders. 

“I have no idea!” You giggle. 

“Holy shit!” Topper laughs as he returns to stand in front of you. 

“He was blasted tonight,” you remember. “Poor Kelce went to bed as soon as we got back." 

“I didn’t mind it,” Topper mutters, gliding his fingertips up and down your arm. “Kinda liked it being just us...” 

“Topper,” you whisper his name warningly, a smile on your lips. 

“What?” He chuckles lightly, leaning in closer to you. 

You shake your head, finding it hard not to blush. “We broke up almost a year ago. You and Sarah-“ 

“Are broken up," he finishes. 

“Yeah, and remember how devastated you were no more than two weeks ago?" You try to reason with him. "You still need to heel and figure out what you want.” 

“I want you," he whispers, brushing lips against yours. 

“Top, I don’t think-“ 

Before you can finish, he kisses you softly. It's not the first time and you know in the back of your mind it likely won't be the last. 

“You’re all I think about, Y/N,” he confesses against your lips. “I need to feel you again. I miss the way you taste.” 

“Top...” You mutter breathlessly. 

You shake your head, despite not stopping him. “We shouldn’t...” 

“We deserve to, don’t we? After everything?" He reasons, tucking his fingers over the band of your panties. "You like me and I like you, we’re both single, there’s history, why can’t we?” 

A million reasons cross your mind, the most important one, your friendship. You and Topper have always been complicated. Things get worse when you add sex to the mix, which is exactly why you two formed boundaries a while back. Then again, you two toss those boundaries out the window every time you drink too much. 

One hand remains on your waist as the other slips down to the hem of your dress. His warm fingertips glide under the fabric, against your thigh. “Don’t you miss it? How we used to be? When we couldn’t get enough of each other," he smirks as a memory pops into his head that he's certain will get to you. “Our ski trip over Christmas.” 

“Okay yeah, you win," you rush out, instantly pressing your lips to his desperately. 

Topper snickers against your lips as he tucks his hands behind your legs and picks you up. Your legs wrap around his waist he just so happens to know effortlessly the direction to his room now. Though he was completely lost minutes before. 

"They dated!" Pope's jaw nearly hits the gravel. 

"No way!" John B wears a similar expression. 

"Yes and no. It's more complicated than that," Sarah tries to explain 

Kiara struggles to piece together the picture. "But I thought you two-" 

"They were friends with benefits before we were dating. Then, when Topper and I started dating, they stopped. Topper and I took a break in the winter and they started up again but stopped after Y/N decided that she couldn't do it anymore. Finally, they all went to Bermuda for a week after Midsummers. They didn't plan on anything happening, according to Y/N, but it kinda just did. They've always had "a thing" for each other. It's only ever been a fling though," Sarah finally manages to lay out the hectic story. 

"And you're okay with that?" Kiara frowns, wondering how Sarah fits into all of that. 

"Nothing happened while we were together," she shrugs but is certain of her words. "I know without a doubt that Y/N would never do that to me. Plus, it was never dating-like... it was more hook-up-ish if that makes sense?" 

"This is insane!" JJ finally voices his perspective, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck. 

"I need a diagram," Pope adds. 

"Wait, so Topper and Y/N are on-and-off again. Meanwhile, Rafe has a thing for Y/N. Does Kelce play a role in any of this?" John B brings up a good point. 

Sarah shakes her head. "Not that I know of." 

"That's one fucked up love triangle," Pope releases a pent-up sigh. 

"This is why we have the "no Pogue-on-Pogue macking" rule. That friend group is a mess!" Kiara reasons. 

"Topper and Y/N have always been super close," Sarah describes solemnly considering the recent turn of events. "She must be devastated! Even if he is an ass. He's only ever been good to Y/N. I was low-key jealous of her when I first started seeing Topper. He holds her up on this pedestal," she admits. 

Suddenly, the screendoor creaks, making everyone turn their attention toward the house. Y/N marches out, back in her dress from last night. 

John B breaks the silence. "Hey Y/N! Where are you-" 

"Sarah, can you drive me home?" You ignore the boy on your way to Sarah's car, unlocking it. 

Sarah stands slowly from her position. "Sure, but don't you-" 

"Thanks!" You cut her off, already climbing into the passenger seat and putting the keys into the ignition. 

"I'll... I'll be back later," Sarah stammers in confusion to her friends. 

Everyone watches as Sarah back out of the driveway then turns their focus to a devastated JJ. 

"I fucked it up. I fucked it up!" He screams, squeezes his hands into fists until his knuckles are white. 

"JJ, it's okay! She probably just needs a minute," Kiara rushes out. 

"I have her for two seconds!" He bursts, his face becoming red with frustration. "Two fucking seconds and I ruined it just like I ruin everything else!" 

"Just give it time!" Pope tries to reason with him calmly. 

"Goddammit!" JJ curses before bolting toward the driveway and out of sight. 

"JJ!" His friends all call for him. 

 "JJ come back!" John B shouts to receive no response. "Well this day is officially shit," the boy huffs as he settles back down onto his log. 

"Do you think they'll be okay?" Kiara worries. 

"Hope so," John B whispers. 

After Sarah drops you off, you hide away in your room for the rest of the day. All you do is cry. You already miss Topper more than anything. You need him. You'll always need him. Then, on top of that, you're torturing yourself for how you treated JJ. None of this is his fault, but you treated him like it was. You cowered from him to keep from crying. You didn't want to scare him away, but in the process, you pushed him away. While you're losing your mind, JJ is losing his outside his dad's house with a half-empty bottle of Jim Beam in his hand. He's looking to pick a fight. He figures that if he's in pain physically that the pain he's inflicting on himself mentally will go away. You started the day wrapped up in each other and in bliss. You're ending it both in pain and willing to do anything to make it go away. 

________________________________________________________

Masterlist

Tags: @starkeythinker @bethii1 @thegunnerkelly @cc13723things @hockeybabe87​ 

[tothemeadow]

I'm the pregnancy anon. I meant like while she was pregnant. Not necessarily the before, like she would already be nice and plump. That's why I considered it a hard ask. If it too much no worries. And I hope you feel better babe. ♥

yaaaay requests r open!! i adore your writing so so much !! maaam i have been missing your tanjirou content and would love breeding kink tanjiro but with a more subby tanjirou? not to say the other one wasnt good (it was FANTASTIC and i re read it all the time .///.) i would just really like to see ur take on subby tanjirou getting overwhelmed by the idea of his wife bearing his child 🥺🥺

Since these two requests are similar, I’ve decided to pair them together!

‘lucent’ / Kamado T. x Reader

warnings: NSFW, pregnant sex

words: 1,426

(a/n): Tanjiro is 18+ in this!

-

Sweet, sweet, sweet, such soft, supple skin…

You’re just so big, brilliantly so, and it’s all Tanjiro’s doing. His face flushes with the mere thought and a smile grows on his face. You’re going to have twins, aren’t you? That’s why your belly is so ripe, skin swollen and glistening.

Feet propped on his lap, you hum in contentment, your eyes scanning over the printed text of your book. It’s some raggedy old thing, leather bound with yellowing pages, but to you, it’s a treasure. Urokodaki was kind enough to give it to you, and Tanjiro can still envision the expression that played on your face when the older man gifted it to you. Tanjiro absentmindedly massages your feet, his eyes lingering on your tummy.

Gods, you’re breathtaking.

If he could stay in this moment forever, he would. Tanjiro’s so helplessly in love with you, nearly obsessed with all the finer details. You’re his, and he’s yours in return. Even better, there’s a tiny human growing inside of you, a symbol of the love the two of you share. And to think, soon you’ll be cradling that little bundle of joy, singing soft tunes and looking utterly ethereal.

“Tanjiro?” you ask, voice gentle. Glancing up, Tanjiro notices your eyes are on him rather than your book. “Is everything alright?”

“Things couldn’t better,” he responds, his blush darkening. Reaching for your hand, he snatches it in his hold and brings it to his lips, placing a kiss to the backs of your knuckles. “I’m just excited for the future is going to bring,” he says, placing both of your hands on your belly.

“I am too.” You beam at him and close your book. “You’ll be a wonderful father, Tanjiro. I couldn’t ask for any else to do a better job.” 

Tanjiro’s heart flutters at the word “father.” It still feels like a dream, one that he could only hope to grasp, yet here it is, the very proof sitting underneath his hand. Subconsciously, he begins to rub his hand back and forth, warmth blooming is his chest and spreading across his entire being. This is what pure joy feels like. Tanjiro must be the luckiest man on Earth to have you as his wife, and now that you’re pregnant…

“I can’t wait to have a family with you,” he confesses. “Imagining all these little children crowding around you makes me excited.”

“I think that just means you want to take me to bed every night,” you tease.

Tanjiro bites back a smile. It’s not you’re wrong, not in the very least, but you don’t have to outright expose him like that. “I’m not arguing against that,” he murmurs.

“Ever the charmer,” you tell him. Placing a hand at his nape, you softly scratch his scalp. “That’s what you want, huh? To pump me full of kids until I can’t walk anymore?” At that, Tanjiro gulps, the pleasant warmth in his body shooting southwards. “You know what? If you play your cards right, I just might let you,” you purr, leaning forward.

Slanting your mouth over his, you kiss him slowly, deeply. Tanjiro’s hands shake lightly as you run your fingers through his hair, scraping his scalp. Your touch is too enticing, the flick of your tongue over his bottom lip nearly sending his eyes rolling towards the back of his head. Oh gods, you taste so sweet, and the flowery scent sticking to your glowing skin sets Tanjiro’s heart ablaze. But wait – no, that’s not it. He can smell the dampness collecting between your thighs. If he wasn’t already half hard before, this surely does the trick.

“Tanjiro,” you purr, tugging him closer. “Be a good boy and fuck me, won’t you?”

He can’t deny you when you’re like this. Your voice drips with honey, the saccharine sweetness making him dizzy. Oh, but the thought of him leaning over your swollen body and fucking you slowly nearly hurts.

“I… I might lose control,” Tanjiro admits, his eyelashes fluttering.

“I’m not made of glass, Tanjiro,” you say, caressing his cheek. “I’ve noticed you staring at me more so than usual. Honey, do you have a thing for pregnant women?”

“Only if it’s you involved,” he says, voice dry.

Leaning back, you pull him with you. Now flat on your back, your hands roam his body, tracing the hard lines of muscle through his yukata and gripping his ass. Tanjiro sighs as he kisses you, a large, rough hand kneading your thigh.

“Ah-ah-ah,” you breathe, pulling away from the kiss. “I don’t think I gave you permission to touch me like this.”

“Please, baby,” Tanjiro nearly whines, his tone borderline desperate. “You’re just so sweet and soft and fuck I want to make you feel good.”

“You always babble when things get to be too much…” A hint of a smile plays on your features. “You wanna fuck me, right? Stuff me with that fat cock until I’m crying out your name?”

Tanjiro’s cock twitches at your filthy words. Of course he wants to fuck you silly, to have you cream around his cock. You’d look so beautiful coming undone, swollen body covered in sweat and cum-

“Ah, shit,” Tanjiro gasps as you grasp his cock. “When did you-“

“You think too much,” you tease, slipping your hand over his exposed chest. Your hands are surely deft, having undone his yukata without him even noticing. Oh, but your touch is magical, brushing over his abs, the swell of his pectorals. His breath hitches as you pinch a hardened nipple; licking your lips, you guide his hands to your own yukata. Tanjiro wastes not another moment, tugging your yukata open and nearly drooling over the sight of your smooth flesh.

Somehow, exposed like this, you look even bigger. He’s the one who got you all pretty and large like this, and he’d be lying if his heart didn’t pick up its pace at the thought. You’re having his baby, you’re having his baby, holy shit-

“Can I fuck you?” Tanjiro nearly pants. “Please? You’re so gorgeous, all swollen like this; I really, really want to fuck you,” he babbles. “Please, baby, please.”

Dropping his hips, he grinds his cock against your sopping pussy, a breathy moan slipping from his throat. Fuck he needs this so, so bad. Don’t tease him, please, he needs to fuck you until you’re feeling as dizzy as he is-

“Show me what you got, honey,” you purr, bringing his head to rest on your shoulder.

A throaty grunt fills your ear as Tanjiro pushes in, your velvety walls clamping down around his cock and sucking him in greedily. He doesn’t know how, but you feel even tighter than before. The smell of your slick has him panting wildly, your warmth and silky skin beckoning him to fuck you. Mouthing at your neck, he sets a steady pace, cock driving in deep. You have to become as desperate as he feels, beg him for another child, for a whole fucking family. He’ll answer to your every beck and call if it means you’ll humor him, shower him with love in and outside of the bedroom.

“Baby,” he murmurs, a pleading lilt to his tone, “you’re gonna make me cum so hard. Mmph – yeah, move your hips just like that. Keep squeezing…”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” you murmur, clenching even harder around his thick cock.

Tanjiro whimpers, his hair tickling your cheek and neck as he nods his head. “Please let me cum,” he says, thrusts quickening, becoming more desperate. Dropping his head, he mouths at your swollen breasts, tongue flicking over a nipple. A hand slips between your legs, fingers expertly locating your clit and rubbing furiously at it, eager to have you cum alongside him.

“Please,” Tanjiro cries, “lemme cum, lemme cum, cream around my cock, baby, ohhh-“

Choking on a gasp, his movements turn frantic as he bucks into you. Before long, his orgasm rips through his body, leaving him moaning your name as his cum fills you to the brim. Still, his fingers continue on; you are going to cum, whether you want to it or not. Your nails sink into the meat of his shoulders as you convulse around him, a breathless noise erupting from your chest as you arch into him.

“Tanjiro…”

“I got you, baby,” Tanjiro coos, hands trembling lightly as he clutches your face. With a small smile, he kisses you, the flush on his cheeks unbearably warm. “I’ll be here, always. I’m not going anywhere.”

[clonecest-bin-account]

Can I request a FivesxCody nsfw?

(Ofc you can dear anon)

(Fic under the cut)

“Feels good?”

“Yeah… Fuck, Cody! Yeah!”

 Fives is about to lose it. He doubts he’s going to last long.

Cody, under him, looks pretty smug, as he watches him fucking his thighs with a dedication that should be laudable, and why shouldn’t it be? He knows Fives - and at least half of the entire GAR - has a weakness for his legs; he’s simply using his advantage to see how much he can make Fives melt.

Not that he’s actually doing much at all, since it’s Fives the one doing all the work, but neither of them is complaining. Sure thing, it could be a bit underwhelming for Cody, since only sometimes he feels Fives’ cock brush against his own, and it’s usually just the tip that barely arrives at his balls, but watching Fives struggle to keep any sort of composure makes up for it entirely. Besides, Cody could touch himself, but he bides his time, opting to keep observing Fives.

He feels his legs wet, between the lube and Fives precum, which isn’t that pleasant of a sensation, but it’s nothing he can’t handle.

 “Bet you’re gonna come soon,” he can’t help but to tease.

Fives grits his teeth. “Just shut-- Fuck!” he exclaims, his movements wavering for a moment. Oh yes, he’s close, and Cody is going to watch him fall apart.

“Come then,” he encourages him. “Come for me.”

“Cody, Cody, Cody!” Yes, Fives is completely gone, lost entirely to the pleasure. He keeps fucking Cody’s thighs until the fire within him burns too hot, too much, and then he comes, getting Cody’s legs even wetter with his semen, and he keeps going and he keeps going still, moaning Cody’s name like it’s something precious, something sacred. Look at him, he’s trembling from head to toe.

 After he’s completely spent, he stops and wheezes. He looks utterly destroyed, despite the fact that, in the end, they didn’t even do much, which makes Cody feel even more smug about this whole thing.

It doesn’t last long, however, because it takes Fives very little to recover, and once he does, he immediately spreads Cody’s legs, diving right between them to take him in his mouth.

“Ah! Fives! H-Hold on!” Cody exclaims, taken by surprise, but Fives ignoring him, swallowing him down all in one go.

It leaves Cody breathless the way he begins sucking him off, so eager and devoted to his pleasure. He has to hold onto Fives’ hair as he keeps going, uncaring of how messy he’s being - actually, ain’t that a nice thought, leaving a mess on Cody’s body?

“I’m not gonna last-- Shit, Fives!” Cody tries again, but in vain. Not that he does anything else to stop him; he’d be crazy to actually do that.

 In less time that he would’ve liked, he finds himself coming as well, his cock still engulfed in Fives’ mouth, who swallows his cum without showing any sign of discomfort which, Cody will admit, is quite impressive.

Only then Fives lets him go. When he pulls away, he looks even more debauched than he did before.

There’s something Cody would like to say, but words have completely died in his mouth. Holy shit, his mind is completely blown.

Even when Fives joins him, laying down beside him, all he can do is to look at him with an astonished gaze, which makes the other chuckle. “That good, huh?”

That manages to make Cody able to speak again. “Shut up,” he says, dragging Fives down for a kiss that the other immediately returns. When they pull away, he smirks. “You too seemed to be having a good time back there,” he counters then.

“You can say that again. I swear I’d spend days between your legs, Cody,” Fives replies, not looking the least bit ashamed about his words, and he runs one hand over Cody’s leg just to prove his point, a featherlike touch that makes him shiver at the contact.

“I wouldn’t mind…” he mutters in response, even though it’s obvious to both that there would never be enough time for them to do something like that.

 Still, as Fives moves to his previous position with a grin on his face that brings promises of good times, all Cody can do is to let him, curious to see what he’ll do this time.

Sure, they can’t keep doing this for entire days, but they can sure do it for at least another couple of hours. What the harm in that?

Tag list: @maulusque @captainrexwouldnever If you want to be added feel free to let me know!

[blahkugo]

SUUUUUUNNYYYYYYYYYYY HOLY HELL CONGRATULATIONS!! This is awesome! Your writing is so fucking phenomenal, and you deserve every follower and more!! For the event *cough* TanakaRyū? In an, oof, dangerous professions au? 👀🥊🏹🏂🤺🧗🏎🚀🔫🧨 I’m unsure how many more dangerous emojis there are but lol. Have a wonderful day!! Xxxxxx congrats again!

CLAUDIAAA I LOVE YOU!! your writing is absolutely phenomenal and your compliments make my heart HURT ♡ enjoy your tanaka baby, i had so much fun writing it!!

                                  -ˋˏ ༻ 光 ༺ ˎˊ-

「TANAKA RYŪ」

— street fighter! au

— warnings: 18+ smut, blood kink, tanaka being a merciless tease<3 

⤏ okay, okay: i know this is a ‘dangerous profession au’ and not an underground one, but this just makes the most sense for tanaka

⤏ ryū is all bark and no bite, but it doesn’t stop him from pretending he’s got the muscle to back the mouth

⤏ this is precisely why i think he’d be the perfect fit for an underground street fighter. think, ‘fight club’ mixed with ufc

⤏ he’s the epitome of a shit talker, never stops goading his opponents even when they’ve got him two seconds away from losing consciousness; he doesn’t know how to shut his mouth, even though he’s always losing

⤏ even so, he’s got a knack for being the crowd‘s #1. his grin never wavers, his fists never go down. he fights until his last breath, and that’s why he’s everyone’s favorite underdog

⤏ the fights are illegal, betting pools made in shady abandoned subways and grimy basements, but the man really has no other choice

⤏ see, he was initially better known for brazilian jiu-jitsu; in fact, he was an extremely famous fighter that won the hearts of people around the world

⤏ but he got too cocky; feeling invincible under the shroud of fame, he began to spiral

⤏ and 1 tragic run in with the police later, his public image was destroyed; so, he reluctantly decided to trade in grapples and chokeholds for bruised knuckles and bloody teeth

⤏ though he simply does it to survive, he can’t deny that the thrill of the match sends blood pumping through his veins, keeps him feeling alive and present

⤏ to make some extra cash, you decide to act as impromptu ring girl— and ryū is utterly infatuated upon first sight

⤏ honestly, you were a bit afraid at first. here’s this heavily tattooed, gruff looking man with a shaved head hitting you with an onslaught of attention every time you walk into the room. what are you supposed to think?

⤏ though you quickly realize he’s a sweetheart underneath that tough appearance, it doesn’t stop you from rolling your eyes at every dramatic come-on. and trust me, there’s a lot of them

⤏ he flirts relentlessly, will say anything and everything that crosses his mind. it’s sweet, maybe, but mostly embarrassing. you never really take him seriously anyways; every comment is paired with a sly smirk and booming laugh

⤏ one day, he proposes a bet. if he wins, he gets to take you out. of course, he never wins, so why not humor the man?

⤏ yeah, you guessed it: he loses

⤏ but watching him fight this time, you found something in your perception of ryū shift...

As everyone files out of the dingy basement, you find yourself lagging behind, eyes trained of the man crouching in the makeshift ring. You’re unsure what possesses you as you make your way over to him, clean towel in hand. He’s a flirt— a persistent one at that— but watching him fight today, you realize there’s a certain elegance to losing with dignity. His smile, though bloodied, never once wavered, his bandaged knuckles never once dropped. 

When he notices you approaching, he rubs his wounded nose; it does nothing but smudge crimson over his stained bandages, a bright red warning sign begging you to keep away. You never listen. Kneeling next to him, you blurt out the question running through your mind, 

“Why do you fight so hard if you lose every time?” 

Instead of his usual quick retorts or coy banter, he flashes you that same toothy grin and relaxed brows he bares to opponents and friends alike. Carefree, nonchalant, happy— even with the unseemly purple bruises forming on his cheekbones.  

As always, it’s utterly infectious, and before you know it, you’re grinning right back at him. 

“Do you want to hear the deep answer or the honest truth?” His words seem teasing, but they hold a sobriety you’ve never quite witnessed on Tanaka. He shifts his jaw, making room for you to wipe at his injuries with the clean rag.

“Both,” you prod, curiosity overtaking you as you have your first serious conversation with the sly boxer. 

“Would it be completely pathetic if I said it makes me feel alive?” His smile wavers a bit, as though he’s revealed something deeply intimate, a concept he’s grappled a million times over in his head. You simply nod, allowing him to speak freely. “Every bruise is a reminder that I’m not dead,” his voice falters, “like I would be if I was still on the streets.” 

The severity of his confession shakes you, reminds you that most of the members at the underground club don’t come from preppy private schools or trust funds. They’re here to make a living— to survive. 

“And the honest truth?” You don’t bother with consolation, don’t believe pity or faux reassurance would satisfy Tanaka anyways. 

“I think I look pretty damn cool in the ring,” his eyes bore into yours, smirk back in full force as he regains his usual composure. Forever a flirt. Have his eyes always been that stormy gray? 

“Want to hear my honest truth?” He nods, gaze bordering on ravenous as he awaits your admission. “I think you do too.” 

It’s as though the words have a physical effect on the tired boxer; he immediately puffs his chest up, his head is held just a bit higher. The words, quite possibly your first ever compliment towards him, instill a newfound confidence that you’re only used to seeing when he’s poking fun. 

“Ha! Always knew you found me irresistible,” he raises battered fingers towards your jaw, pulling it between them and grazing at your cheeks. He’s probably smearing blood all over you and typically, you’d push him away— but tonight everything feels different. 

Perhaps it’s the low fluorescent lighting or the charged silence filling the empty room. Maybe it’s his attitude. Any which way, there’s a magnetism in the air that pulls you to him, tugs at your heartstrings and urges you to care for the underdog. 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” lips puckering, you do your best to remain stoic, to no avail. His eyes bore into yours, darkening by the second. Though the moment becomes infused with tension, you refuse to drop your gaze, instead attempting to shift back into the comfortable banter you and Ryū share. “Who said anything about being irresis—”

He doesn’t allow you a moment to finish your sentence, yanking your face to his. He tongues you with a fervor, lithe fingers wrapping across the back of your head to tug you impossibly closer. Sweat, the sharp tang of metal, and even something a bit minty— the flavor of his mouth spreads through you, clouds your head with greed, and intoxicates you in such a way that your only thought is of wanting more. 

When you finally pull away, flushed and breathless, Ryū notices the kiss has split his wound once again. Deep red drips across his soft lips, down his chin, and dribbles onto his knee. But it seems he’s been stupefied, utterly amazed by this unforeseen turn of events; his thumb inches towards the blood, but he doesn’t seem to care to clean it all up. So, you figure you’ll take matters into your own hands. 

“Let me,” you offer, bringing his rugged fingers towards your mouth. Licking a long stripe from wrist to thumb, you never once break eye contact as you peer up at him through thick lashes. He’s unable to do anything but watch, enchanted by your wet tongue lapping at his digits. 

Gradually, your lips travel upwards, kissing and suckling at bruised knuckles, making sure to soothe over every gash, every groove of pained flesh. The hair on his arms rises, a throaty groan caught in his throat. Heat and heat and so much heat— the warmth in your stomach, across his cheeks and the tips of his ears— flows freely, intertwining. 

It doesn’t matter that the enormous room is empty, or that the air is chilled outside; the ring is filled with a feverish longing, a craving for touch you never even realized was there. Not until you reach his defined collarbones, teeth grazing at his skin. 

As soon as your mouth sucks at the sweet spot on his neck, a switch flips in him. Before you know it, you’re on your back; Ryū’s body looms over yours, his knee pressed between your legs. His hands roam, loosely tied bandages traveling your waist, dashing beneath your top and over your taut stomach. 

Though his touch is gentle, a ghost of a breath, it sends your nerves into a frenzy. Slowly, slowly, ever-so slowly, slender fingers toy at your breasts, squeezing and circling your hardened nipples. A bite at your neck, a wet lick to soothe the burn; he’s teasing, even now, as you mewl and writhe for more. 

And yet again, you’re flipped, this time onto hands and knees. You’re nothing more than a rag doll to the hearty boxer, a feathery thing to the man who lifts almost twice your weight daily. Your back meets solid muscle as he cages you between him and the ring’s chilled floor. 

He wastes no time tugging your shorts and panties down, drifting his palms over the globes of your ass, and squeezing. But still, he never touches your cunny. And God, does it ache for it. 

“You’re still teasing,” you pant, arms reaching behind you to tap at his bicep. 

“Maybe,” a finger slips towards your cunt, brushes across the sopping slit and onto your clit, “Wanna hear you beg for it.” 

His answer stuns you, so unlike the buoyant man that fawns over you day after day. It’s a pleasant change, to say the least.

“Ryū,” your whine echoes through the vacant room, “can’t.” There’s no way in hell you’ll be begging for him. 

“Can’t,” his voice is raspy, teeming with desire, “or won’t?”  He inches a digit in, stopping just short of a second knuckle, while the other rubs at your swollen bundle of nerves. You stifle a groan when he begins nipping the shell of your ear, but as soon as he begins his movements, he stills once again. 

“F-fine,” whimpering, you admit defeat, “fuck, please.”

“You can tap out if it gets too much,” he chuckles under his breath. 

And then, finally, he’s pumping into you again, stretching you once more; one finger, then another, his thumb drawing cruel circles at your clit. It’s shameful, immoral even, the way you plead and moan with every push into you. Curling his fingers, he dips further into your doughy walls, pushing against a spot that you swear has you seeing God. And his name, it leaves your lips like a prayer, over and over— a sinner at confession. 

You search for something, anything, to grasp at. But the floor is smooth, the ring’s ropes just a hair too far for you to pull at. So, you settle for wrapping a hand around the arm that pushes into your lower back, your other rapping, fingernails scratching, at the mat below you. 

“I said you could tap,” another deep pump into you elicits a lengthy mewl, “but I didn’t say I would listen.” 

                          ᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ 光 ⚘᠂ ⚘ ᠃

[secretpajamas]

Undercover– a Marcus Pike fic

pairing: Agent Marcus Pike x female reader

genre: smut/humor/coworkers-to-lovers

rating: explicit

words: 3.7k

a/n: you don’t need to have seen The Mentalist to read this fic (but I do recommend watching Pedro’s episodes, he’s SO perfect in this role)! All you need to know is that Marcus Pike is an FBI agent working for the Art Theft department. Scroll down to the end to “content” if you want to know specific smut content before reading :)

–

So far, the operation had been a bust; you had hoped to catch the reclusive money-laundering gallery owner at the fundraiser event tonight, but he hadn’t shown. After conceding defeat, you and Agent Pike slipped into one of the roped-off side rooms in the museum to discuss a way forward.

You felt incredibly uncomfortable in your attire for the night: a silky slip of a dress that showed far more skin than you were accustomed to showing. But this was a “trendy” look, supposedly, and you were masquerading as art critics at this stupid event. Your FBI-issued handgun was concealed in a hidden panel in your purse and you hated not having it on your hip in your trusty uniform holster. You hated everything about this outfit. The fact that you had to youtube “how to apply an adhesive bra” just to wear this godforsaken dress tonight—

“You alright?” Pike asked, looking at you with a furrowed brow. You realized your face was scrunched up in a scowl, thinking about your goddamned flimsy bra, which had thankfully stayed on the whole night so far.

“Yeah,” you said, “just yearning for my uniform right now.”

“Tell me about it,” Pike said, gesturing to his outfit. “I’m wearing skinny jeans.”

It was decidedly not his style. You usually saw him in business casual or his FBI uniform. When you met on the weekends for coffee, he’d wear a leather jacket—and as far as you could tell, that was as adventurous as he got when it came to fashion. Skinny jeans? Not Marcus Pike, not in a million years. (But he did have nice legs, you had to admit.)

“So, our friend hasn’t shown,” you said, changing the subject to more pressing matters.

“I had a feeling,” Pike muttered. “Back to the drawing board, I guess.”

“Well, it was worth a shot,” you said with a sigh. “Let’s call it a night.”

Suddenly, Pike tensed, his face paling. You took a breath, about to ask him what was wrong, when he whispered harshly:

“Someone’s coming.”

You jumped when you heard it: footsteps sounding from the hallway where you came in. You whipped your head around, looking for another way out, but the only other exit was a door that read ‘EMERGENCY EXIT – ALARM WILL SOUND’.

Shit.

“I’m sorry about this,” Pike said in a rush, bracketing himself around you, effectively pinning you to the nearby wall, in between two paintings. “Just play along.”

“Sorry for wha—”

Then he kissed you.

Marcus Pike kissed you.

You froze. What the fuck was he doing? How was this supposed to help? What was this—

Your train of thought was interrupted by his thigh wedging its way between your legs, sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine and making a filthy noise tumble from your throat, unbidden.

“Good,” he whispered, mouthing kisses along your neck. “Louder.”

You moaned again at his words, not really understanding why. Just play along, he had said. Whatever the hell that meant.

Suddenly, a booming voice rang out. “This section is CLOSED!”

Pike jumped away from you. You snapped to attention, head whipping around to see a familiar face: one of the lackeys of the corrupt museum owner stood some distance away, a blinding flashlight trained on you. You’d seen this man on surveillance footage in your briefing this week. He was the muscle. Usually the very armed muscle. Shit.

“S-sorry,” Pike said, his voice suddenly meek, that of a geeky art critic and not a federal agent. He raised a hand to scratch the back of his head, making a big fuss of the movement, while the other hand subtly reached behind him, hovering near where his gun was covertly tucked in the back of his belt. “My girlfriend and I—”

“Section’s closed!” He barked, gesturing with his flashlight. “Get a room.”

You felt your stomach drop back into place. He just thinks we’re horny artists. Thank god.

“Sorry, sir,” Pike said, taking you by the hand and making a swift exit.

–

You didn’t speak a word to each other as you scurried out of the gallery and into the side street where Pike had parked. He rummaged in his jacket pocket for his keyfob and frantically pressed at it until his car’s headlights flashed up ahead. Once you were inside, you put your head in your hands and let out a huge breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Holy shit,” you rasped.

Pike didn’t respond, just methodically put on his seatbelt, started the car, and drove away. At the next red light, Pike reached over and buckled you in. You were so out of it that you had forgot.

“Thanks,” you said, voice a little more steady than it was previously.

“I’m sorry about what happened back there,” he said, eyes on the road.

“Uh, me too? I thought we were done for,” you said. You thought you were going to get shot, but you didn’t dare say it.

Pike shook his head. “I mean, I’m sorry I kissed you. It wasn’t right.”

“What are you apologizing for? You saved our asses.”

“By assaulting you? Yeah, great job I did,” he said.

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, you didn’t assault me, Pike. It was... surprising, but I wasn’t upset.” Quite the opposite, actually.

Pike gripped the steering wheel a little too tightly—you could hear the fake leather squeak against his hands. “Nevertheless, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” You sighed. “Seriously, I’m okay. Stop getting in your head.”

He didn’t seem totally convinced, but he didn’t protest any further. You sat in silence for the rest of the car ride.

–

“This is you,” Pike said when he turned onto your street, gesturing with his head towards your apartment building. It wasn’t much to look at, but it was in a considerably nicer neighborhood than your first DC apartment, that’s for sure.

“Indeed it is,” you confirmed.

Pike parked his car and turned off the ignition. He still looked like a kicked puppy—god, he wasn’t still worried about the kiss, was he?

Fuck it. You’d been working with the man for nearly two years now, and at this point, you considered him a good friend. You never felt judged when you confided in him.  Why not just be honest?

“I liked it,” you said, oddly calm.

Pike’s face scrunched up. “Huh?”

“The kiss,” you said, and now your heartbeat was starting to ratchet up. “I liked it.”

His eyes widened. “Oh,” he said, voice soft.

“Yeah,” you replied. “You can... do it for real, if you want.”

Pike looked at you silently, his gaze flickering from your eyes to your mouth.

The adrenaline from earlier in the night must have been fueling your courage, because you soldiered on. “Do you want to come in?”

–

Pike followed you wordlessly to your apartment, the tension so heavy in the air you thought you might suffocate. With shaking fingers, you managed to unlock the door and flick on the lights.

As soon as the door closed behind Pike, he held you by the waist and kissed you soundly.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he said when he pulled away.

“We kissed like, an hour ago—”

“A real kiss,” he specified, bringing one hand to cup your cheek. He brushed his thumb along your lower lip like it was something precious. He kissed you again, just a soft press of lips, ever the gentleman. You thought about his thigh between your legs earlier that night and god, you wanted that again. You kissed him back, firm and insistent, curling your fingers in his hair.

When you gave his hair a gentle tug, his whole body seemed to shiver, and his kiss became more daring—his tongue in your mouth, his hands inching down, down, stopping just shy of your ass.

Suddenly, he pulled away from the kiss. “I should go,” he said—but the tone of his voice made you doubt that he wanted to leave.

“What’s the matter?” You asked.

“I’m moving too fast,” he said with a wistful smile.

“I’m the one who invited you in, Pike,” you said.

“Fair point,” he said. He let his hand rest on your waist again, his fingers stroking the silky material of your dress. “It’s just—I haven’t done this in a while. Not with someone I... care about.”

Oh. You knew what this was about. Teresa, the woman he was with just before he moved to DC. They were supposed to get married, but she left him for another man. You didn’t know much beyond that, but he had told you enough—that he felt he moved too fast and scared her away.

“If you want to stop now, I get it,” you said. “But I’m here to tell you I’m not going anywhere. I’ve waited two years, I can wait some more.”

You didn’t realize the weight of your words until after they left your mouth. Shit. He wasn’t supposed to know you’d had doe-eyes for him since the day you joined the Art Theft squad. You looked down at the floor, anywhere but his face right now.

“Two years?” He asked softly.

“Yeah,” you whispered.

“But—what about that guy you dated from Quantico?”

“He was a nice distraction,” you said.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” He asked.

You didn’t respond for a moment. Slowly, you looked back up from the floor to his face. His features were kind and reassuring. You took a deep breath. “Well, I’m saying it now,” you said.

He smiled. “Let’s make up for lost time, then,” he said, snaking his arm around your waist and pulling you in for another kiss.

–

After kissing you breathless, you lead him by the hand to your bedroom. He went with you eagerly, and when you sat on the edge of your bed, he followed suit.

You pushed at the lapels of his tweed jacket, getting it off his arms and onto the floor. He reached behind you, searching for your dress zipper. He found it, grinning triumphantly for a moment before pulling the zipper down. The dress fell off your shoulders, revealing—

Oh god, that fucking adhesive bra.

“I’m sorry,” Pike said, sounding utterly baffled, “What is this thing?”

You laughed. “You’re asking me? I had to consult the internet just to put the damn thing on.”

“How is it on?”

“Adhesive,” you said.

“Do you just... rip it off? Like a bandaid?” Pike said.

“I guess?” You replied, picking at it with your fingernail. A corner of it peeled off without much force. Damn, it was flimsy.

You peeled it off the rest of the way and chucked it across the room. “Good riddance.”

Pike laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Here I was thinking skinny jeans were a pain,” he said.

“To be fair, those do look a little tight,” you said.

“They are. My dick hurts.” He winced, reaching down to adjust himself. “Too much information?”

You rolled your eyes. “My tits are out, Marcus, I think you’re good.”

At the mention of them, Pike was suddenly gazing at your breasts—as if he hadn’t realized he was allowed to look. He tentatively reached out and cupped one, stroking at it gently with his thumb. You sighed, arching your back. He ran his hand from your breast to your arm, where the strap of your dress had fallen. He dragged the strap down, and with a little wiggling from you, managed to get your dress on the floor, leaving you only in your underwear.

“You have way too many clothes on,” you said, working at the buttons of his shirt. He nodded, helping you get it unbuttoned the rest of the way before shrugging it off. Pike then reached for his jeans, sighing in relief as he popped the button of his fly and dragged the zipper down.

“These fucking jeans,” he grumbled, wriggling his hips back and forth as he peeled the denim off his legs. When he finally got them off, they took his socks with them. He kicked the heap of clothing into the corner, landing somewhere near your dress and that flimsy piece of foam masquerading as a woman’s foundational garment.

Now it was your turn to stare. From the plane of his chest, to his soft belly, to his straining hard-on in his gray boxer-briefs—he was beautiful, and you didn’t know what you wanted to touch first. The outline of his cock was the most tempting, though, and you slowly ran a hand up his thigh, stopping just short of where he was hard and aching.

“Please,” he said in a hushed tone, hitching his hips up just a little. You brushed your hand over his bulge, feather-light at first. Then you pressed a little more firmly, slowly dragging your palm against him. He groaned, hands gripping the bedcovers tightly.

Feeling bold, you got off the bed, kneeling in front of him. You tugged at the waistband of his boxers and he lifted his hips, letting you pull them down and off.

You delighted in the sight of his thick cock jutting up against his belly, the tip pink and glistening. God, you wanted him. You leaned forward and licked a hot stripe from root to tip, and the noise he made was so exquisite you could cry. Taking a light hold with your hand, you guided him into your mouth.

“Ah, fuck!” His hips jerked up off the bed, but you quickly held them down. You took him in as far as you could, and he moaned again—louder, more desperate. You found a rhythm, bobbing your head and hollowing your cheeks, your hand wrapped around what your mouth couldn’t reach. Pike offered a tentative hand to stroke your hair with reverence, his hips trembling with the effort not to move too roughly.

After a particularly sly maneuver with your tongue, Pike tensed and stilled your head with a gentle touch.

“If you don’t stop now,” he said between ragged breaths of air, “this’ll be over before it even starts.”

You pulled off of him slowly, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “Sorry,” you said, your voice light and teasing.

“Don’t be,” he replied. “Fuck, that was good.”

You couldn’t help but feel a burst of pride at the praise from him.

Pike patted the bed next to him. “Get up here so I can return the favor.”

You crawled up the bed, heart hammering and head dizzy with excitement. He motioned for you to lie back and you did so, taking a deep breath to try and still your racing pulse.

Pike propped himself up on his elbows and slowly kissed a path down your thigh. Your cunt throbbed in anticipation and you bucked your hips up, desperately seeking sensation. He smiled at your eagerness and held your hip down with one hand. With the other, he pushed the sodden gusset of your panties to the side and slowly slid a thick finger inside of you.

You let out a needy sound, clenching around him as he added a second finger. You were so wet that the movement of his fingers made loud, slick noises that were absolutely obscene.

Pike kissed your thigh again. “Gorgeous,” he murmured against your skin. He then pulled his fingers out of you and you whined at the loss.

“Need to get these off,” Pike explained, hooking his fingers into the elastic of your underwear and pulling them down and off.

Pike’s face was between your thighs, now, and you sobbed at the first touch of his tongue to your clit. He slid his fingers back inside your cunt and the jolt of pleasure was like a lightning strike.

“Please,” you begged, not sure what you were asking, but needing it all the same, “please.”

You moaned loudly as he lapped at you ever-so-slowly with the flat of his tongue in time to the rhythm of his fingers. His unoccupied hand moved from your hip to your hand, lacing your fingers together. You squeezed his hand tightly as you found yourself already dancing dangerously close to the edge.

You started to grind your cunt against his tongue, needing the pressure just so, and he eagerly let you use his mouth for your pleasure. He alternated between licking and sucking on your clit, and you were so fucking close that you could hardly stand it.

Pike pulled his mouth off you for a moment. You whined and tilted your hips up, trying to chase his tongue.

“Close?” He asked, keeping the rhythm of his fingers firm and steady inside of you.

You didn’t trust your mouth to form words, so you nodded vigorously. He got back to work, faster this time, relentless, and the heat in your belly coiled tighter and tighter until you were coming so hard you saw stars. Your thighs clamped like a vise around his head but he didn’t seem to care in the slightest, working you through your orgasm with his tongue and fingers.

You clenched around him through every aftershock. He pressed a final little kiss on your thigh before pulling his fingers out and wiping them on the sheets.

Gazing into his warm brown eyes, breathing with him in tandem, it took you a minute to realize something.

“Oh, fuck,” you said. “Condom.”

You wondered if you still had any in your bathroom cabinet from when you were still with your ex, but it had been a long time since you’d broken up. Shit.

Pike snapped to attention. “Yeah, um,” he started, hopping off the bed to retrieve his jacket, “think I have one in my wallet.”

He rummaged around in his jacket pocket, retrieving his wallet and rifling through it.

“Gotcha,” he proclaimed. He turned the foil packet around in his hands, looking for the expiration date. “And it’s still good.”

“Hallelujah,” you remarked, throwing your head back in relief. “Get over here.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Pike said, making his way back to you. He knelt on the bed as he ripped open the wrapper and rolled on the condom.

Settling between your legs, he took himself in hand and rubbed at your swollen cunt before easing himself inside. You gasped at the feeling of him fully seated inside you, the delicious stretch of it achingly perfect. After a moment, he ground his hips into yours, moving out barely an inch before rocking back in. You scratched at the expanse of his back and shoulders, hitching up your hips, urging him to move.

“You’re beautiful like this,” he whispered, fucking you slow and deep. You made keening little noises with every thrust, unable to help it. You felt so full.

Pike began to move faster, now, his kisses swallowing up your sobbing cries. The sweet ache in your belly was building up again, and the moment you thought you would tumble over the edge, he slowed his pace. You groaned in frustration, gyrating your hips, needing him to fuck you, damnit, but it felt too fucking good to complain.

When Pike slipped out of you, though, you definitely wanted to complain. However, all that came out was a petulant huff. He just chuckled and urged you to lie on your side. Slotting behind you, he guided himself back inside of you before wrapping his arms around you, holding you close to his chest. The new angle was heaven and you writhed in his arms, feeling him absolutely everywhere.

He snaked a hand down to rub your clit while he fucked you, faster now. You cried out and grasped at his arms for something to ground you, something to keep you connected to reality, because this felt so fucking good it very well could have been a dream.

“I’m—P-Pike—Marcus, I’m gonna—” You found yourself babbling, barely coherent.

“I’ve got you,” he said, the low rumble of his voice warm in your ear as he worked at your swollen little clit. That was it; you were shaking apart, trembling as he fucked you through your orgasm. The muscles of your cunt fluttered around him, every nerve in your body on fire.

Pike’s movements were becoming more erratic. Every thrust was harder than the last, and he moved his hand to grasp at your hip as he rutted into you frantically. You squeezed down on his cock, wanting to push him over the edge.

“Fuck, fuck!” He lasted a few more desperate thrusts before he was coming, too, biting into the skin of your shoulder and holding you tightly to him.

You both stayed there for a while, breathing heavily, all fucked-out and blissful. You nestled closer into him and he hummed into your shoulder.

“Be right back,” Pike mumbled, holding himself at the base and easing his cock out of you. You sighed at the feeling of emptiness—part of you wished he could just stay there all night.

As you stretched out on your bed, he shuffled off into your bathroom. You heard the tap run for a moment before he returned, condom off—presumably in the trash—and a damp washcloth in hand.

The press of the cool washcloth felt good on your hot and throbbing cunt; he then wiped down your thighs, where an embarrassing amount of your slick had dribbled down.

“Thank you,” you murmured as you looked up at him. He kissed your cheek.

It was bugging you, and you couldn’t help but ask. “You tied the condom off and threw it out, right?”

Pike raised an eyebrow. “Yes?” He said. “What, did Quantico not tie them off first?”

“Worse,” you grumbled, “he flushed them.”

Pike snorted. “That’s a new one on me.”

“Had to call a goddamn plumber,” you continued.

“Please tell me at least the sex was good.”

“It was awful,” you groaned. “You should have kissed me sooner.”

“Sorry,” he said. “I’ll make up for it.”

“You better, Agent Pike,” you teased before giving him a peck on the lips.

He was having none of that; he pulled you in for a proper kiss. “I will,” he said, “I promise.”

–

a/n: well, it turns out I’m eternally a sucker for the undercover-as-a-couple trope.

original prompt from @lannister-slings-and-arrows​! Thank you my dear :)

And in case you’re curious: Marcus Pike gets called Agent Pike way more often than he gets called Marcus in the show, so that’s what I went with here. And FYI, Quantico is the county in Virginia where the FBI training academy is. Just a fun little detail.

content: surprise kiss (“fakeout makeout”), oral sex (m and f), missionary, cuddle-fucking (spoon-fucking? side-fucking? whatever you’d like to call it lol)

[hi-hey-haechan]

hii may i req a 17+41 for jeno or haechan

17: “Stop teasing me so much”

41: “the only way you’re getting off is on my thigh”

Jeno. This was inspired off of a Ridin’ fancam I saw today.

This was what you got for coming to his dance practice. His fellow Dream members were preparing for their new comeback, practicing with the song “Ridin’.” The choreography was fun to watch, and so was Jeno...maybe he was a bit too fun to watch.

Sweat trickled down his face and neck from all the excessive work. He glanced your way, and you gave him a smile and a thumbs-up. When he was sweating, he hit you differently. Yes, of course you knew he was gorgeous. He had the most beautiful eye-smile, the hair that fell perfectly, and the facial structure created so skillfully. He was muscular, too, with a lean build, packed with muscle. The curves of his arms and the dips of his collarbones were so sexy.

But by far, his thighs were what really caught your attention when your brain flew to dirty thoughts. You had a thing for his thighs. Whenever he moved, the muscles in his legs shifted, flexing different parts of it. They looked so good in the black skinny jeans he was wearing, hugging the sculpted legs, accentuating his every move.

Hot.

Multiple times, Jeno’s eyes flitted over to you, and he saw that you were already looking at him. Your eyes didn’t meet his, however, and were trained lower down on him. You weren’t looking at his crotch, which you couldn’t exactly see from each angle. However, you were glancing slightly lower down than his hip area. At some points in the routine, he’d run his palms over his legs, and at some points, he’d lightly squeeze his thighs, knowing exactly what he was doing to you.

You felt fluid gush between your legs, making you even wetter than you were before. His sharp movements and shifts in his legs made you wonder what his thigh would feel like against your core, as you just grinded yourself back and forth on his rigid leg muscle. Unable to cease the pounding between your legs, you squeezed your thighs together, trying to soothe the ache.

Just his thighs alone could do this to you, and you’d dreamt of riding them, crying out and cumming on his leg. Your core was screaming for his attention, your lower stomach tight with unwavering, utter need for him to satisfy you.

You drew in a shaky breath, telling yourself that you needed to get through this dance practice, and then you could beg for him to help fix your problem. Until then, you had to sit, fluid dripping down your entire heated area, the bottom of your stomach clenched by how badly you wanted him.

Finally, after a million years, practice ended, and the boys left the room one by one. Jeno waited for you. While standing across the room, he dragged his fingertips up one clenched leg. Jeno was looking straight at you, yet you failed to meet his gaze, your eyes unable to stop watching the muscles in his perfect legs move or simply exist. He then placed one hand on his leg, lightly squeezing it as though he was sore.

“Stop teasing me,” you begged. Your underwear was undeniably soaked right then, but you wanted, you needed to cum, to release the fraying, tightly pulled rope in the pit of your core. You walked over to him, utterly impatient.

“Teasing you?” Jeno inquired, feigning innocence that your throbbing heat didn’t have time for.

“Don’t even pretend you don’t know. I’m so fucking horny and I need you to help me.” Your voice was a plea, weaker than you wanted it to be, but he could tell how desperate you were.

Jeno smirked, and you dreaded whatever was going to happen next. He locked the door to the practice room, glad that there were no security cameras in there. When he locked eyes with you, his voice was deep, and he said, “Just my dancing affected you that much, didn’t it?”

You nodded, agreeing to everything he said because one, they were true, and two, it would get him to pleasure you faster.

“The only way you’re getting off is on my thigh.” When you stared at him, eyes wide open, he said, “Oh, come on, I saw you drooling over my thighs the entire dance practice. I saw you press your thighs together.”

His hand went to the button of your jeans, pulling them down so one less layer would be between you two. He sat on the couch in the practice room, and he motioned for you to come towards him. You sat down, straddling one of his thighs. At the feeling alone of something pressing against your core, something you needed there for so long, you allowed a strangled mewl.

As you began to move your hips, his hands gripped onto your waist, helping guide your movements. It felt as amazing as your mind had made it out to be. Finally, you were getting friction that you needed, and off of something that you may have had a kink for.

“H-holy fuck, Jeno,” you moaned, leaning forwards a bit so your clit would be better stimulated against the hard muscle of his leg. Your underwear, which you knew was soaking, was already leaving a wet patch on his jeans, temporarily making them a darker shade of black. You were beyond the point of caring at this point, though.

Jeno was amazed, watching you roll your hips on his leg. Moans were spilling past your lips, breathless and needy, as though even the sounds you made were begging for him.

Your arousal dripped onto his leg, which was when he realized how horny you actually had become. The friction between your underwear, his leg, and your clit, were what increased your pleasure. “How are you so wet? I never even touched you,” Jeno asked, almost in disbelief. His hands had stopped their grasp on your hips. Had his dancing really affected you that much?

You whined from the lack of stimulation, for his guidance of your movements were what allowed you to move more rapidly on his thigh. You forced yourself back and forth on his thigh, the string in your stomach growing tighter by the second. You couldn’t even speak to answer his question. Your neediness had made you so sensitive, and now the slightest bit of stimulation was turning you to putty.

The thighs that had flexed during his dancing were now flexing under your dripping heat, the change of the sculpt creating a new, more rigid sensation for your hips to grind on, stimulating you further. Your moans had only grown louder as your edge grew closer. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, literally a whining, moaning mess from just his thigh.

It felt so strong under you, and somehow, it made you feel so good, so incredibly high on pleasure. The thought of this was turning you on. His leg was solid and rigid and strong, close to making you fall apart completely.

Enjoying watching you turn to putty, he grasped your hips again, guiding your faltering movements into more pleasurable grinds on his strong thigh. To test the waters, he bounced his thigh a little. His leg muscle was hitting your clit straight-on when he did this. “Right there,” you practically cried out.

“More,” you begged, “faster.” You were close to your high, so incredibly close.

He tightened his grip on your hips as he moved you faster, back and forth on his thigh, which he was going between flexing and not flexing, changing the feeling of it quickly. Jeno also bounced his leg occasionally, which brought you more pleasure than anything else.

“Fuck, Jeno, Jeno, I’m gonna cum I’m gonna cum holy shit,” you babbled, breathless from pleasure.

“Cum, baby, make a mess on my leg,” he said in your ear, his voice husky and kind of cocky, in a way.

The string that had been pulled tight in your stomach for an hour finally snapped, and juices flowed out of you as you came hard, waves of pleasure crashing down on you, sending you flying. You let out a strangled yell of his name, and your legs shook. You’d only had a couple orgasms this extreme before, and this one was from Jeno’s thigh alone. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, and small cries and moans and curses spilled from your hips as he grinded you on his thigh through your climax.

Jeno’s arms went around you, embracing you as you breathed heavily, wiped out from your intense orgasm. Your head remained buried in the crook of his neck, which was warm and comforting, especially with him holding you like this.

“I think I ruined your jeans,” you said quietly, breath fanning against Jeno’s skin.

“It was so worth it,” he replied, letting out a small laugh. “But if you’re so turned on by my thighs, maybe I should only wear sweatpants from now on--”

“No!” you exclaimed, cutting him off. “Don’t deny me the pleasure of looking at your legs while you dance!”

Jeno laughed, and it was quiet and sort of breathy, but sweet and loving, too. “I mean, if you enjoy it that much…”

[breakyeol]

lazy sunday

drabble

┗ pairing: chanyeol x reader

warnings: smut, low key sub!yeol (kinda?)

a/n; all I’m tryna do is cuddle tf out the loml is that too much to ask?

After a long week of working your ass off and stressing over the seemingly most trivial details, there was quite literally nothing you enjoyed more than your Sunday morning cuddle sessions with your oversized boyfriend. There was something so therapeutic about lounging on the couch and simply watching the sleepy sun slowly rise in the sky while feeling the comforting weight of your boyfriend’s body against yours.

Your fingers carded lazily through his thick locks, twisting gently every now and again as your other hand drew lazy designs on his toned stomach.

The waking sun washed the room in a soft orange glow, a muffled warmth cast over your skin. Chanyeol was humming quietly, eyes shut as he basked in your soothing touches, the corners of his lips drawn ever so delicately upwards. His large form laid snuggly between your legs, broad back was pressed up against your chest, his head tilted back just slightly to rest on your shoulder.

It was inevitable that you wouldn’t be able to take your eyes off of him. How could you? He was utterly beautiful, sun kissed skin all but radiant under the gentle golden hue, long eyelashes kissing the tops of his cheeks, pretty pink lips looking plump and kissable as ever. Was he even aware of it? Was he aware of how entirely, maddeningly attractive he was? Well, he definitely knew he was worth taking a second look at. Every time he spotted himself in a mirror he had to do a double take.

You found your head dipping down, lips connecting with the soft skin of his throat. His humming paused, lips splitting in a toothy smile as he felt you feathering kisses across his neck and shoulder. “That tickles,” he commented lightly, eyes still closed blissfully as he allowed himself to be bathed in your affection.

“Sorry,” was your half hearted response, though your administrations didn’t let up for even a moment, “do you want me to stop?”

“No,” he shook his head immediately, rolling it to the side to give you further access, “feels good.”

You smiled faintly, and happily resumed. For a few moments it was calm again, his body completely lax on top of yours, his gentle humming vibrating against your lips each time you hit a particularly sensitive spot. But soon enough, the ephemeral brushes of your lips began to linger. He jolted ever so slightly as your tongue dared to flick over that sweet spot just below his jaw, the atmosphere shifting.

“Y/n.” Your name was less than a sigh on his lips, and you hummed in acknowledgement, too caught up in the task of sucking a red mark into the tender flesh of his throat to respond properly. But you could feel him beginning to squirm, a tell tale sign that he was starting to feel a certain type of way. It was cute how easy it was to get him riled up. A few sensual kisses in the right places and he was already half hard in his baggy sweatpants. “If you keep doing that—” he cut himself off with a fluttering moan as your teeth nipped at his sensitive ear.

“I thought you said it felt good?” You retorted, hands wandering slowly up and down his clothed torso.

“It does. That’s the problem,” he chuckled breathlessly. You felt one of his large hands curl under your knee, gripping it lightly, “I’ll get… excited.” You couldn’t help the amused sound that floated off your lips. He sounded so innocent when he phrased it like that.

“Maybe I want you to get excited.” You countered smoothly, boldly slipping your hand beneath his t-shirt. He shivered as your fingers dragged teasingly up his abdomen, feeling every curve, every edge, every soft spot. He could be so pliant sometimes, so willing to take whatever you wanted to give him. You hoped now was one of those times, because, for whatever reason, you were craving the beautiful sounds that spilled from those perfect lips when you pleasured him.

He groaned something like low thunder when you suddenly lowered one of your hands to cup the prominent bulge between his thighs. His hips jerked up as your thumb drew a teasing circle, mouth falling open in a silent gasp, “oh f–fuck.” His eyes fluttered as your lips reattached themselves to the dip between his neck and shoulder.

“Tell me you want me to touch you,” the cooing tone of your voice contrasted starkly with the demanding glint in your eye, “tell me you want me to make you feel good, Yeol.”

His tongue swept shakily over his lower lip, his hot, trembling breath suddenly colliding with your cheek as his head shifted. And in that deep, rich voice, he pleaded softly, “touch me, y/n. Fuck. Please touch me.”

That was all you needed to hear before swiftly pushing your fingertips past the hem of his sweats and into his underwear. He responded to the touch of your cool fingertips to his hot, hard length with his entire body: back arching, legs spreading, hands gripping firmly at your thighs, low breathless moans forcing themselves from his pink tinted throat.

He watched, lips parted, brows furrowed, eyes hooded as your caressed slowly up and down his hard cock, teasing touches sending jolts of pleasure shooting through his veins. A low whine crawled up his throat as you nipped at his throat, your thumb slowly circling his sensitive, swollen top. “Don’t tease me, y/n,” he warned, though his voice lacked any real conviction, and you chuckled soft in amusement as his eyes fluttered.

“But you’re so cute when you’re frustrated,” you taunted, using the hand not wrapped around his dick to massage the tight muscle of his right thigh.

“You’re cruel.”

“And you’re hot as fuck.”

“Baby, we’ve been known that I’m fine as he— holy shit,” he gasped out a hoarse moan as you suddenly gripped him tightly, pumping his length at a pace that his somewhat sleepy mind was not able to process completely, “fuck. Fuck. Keep going. Feels so good. Don’t stop.”

“I didn’t hear a please~” you sang against his ear, movements slowing to his dismay. He bucked his hips up desperately, head tilting back as his large, shining eyes looking up at you pleasingly.

“Baby,” he whimpered, “please. Please.”

Your lips quirked upwards, and you dipped your head just low enough that your mouth grazed over his. “I like it when you beg,” you admitted in a low, rasping voice, allowing your teeth to graze just over his plump bottom lip. He moaned loudly as you twisted your wrist skillfully, hips snapping up to meet the underside of your palm with a dull smack.

“Don’t get— t–too used to it.” You could take him very seriously when he was moaning so hopelessly, sentence breaking midway through to allow those uncharacteristically pitchy whimpers to escape. He groaned in frustration as he tried to tilt his head up and connect your lips only to have you pull away, “stop teasing and just fucking kiss me already.”

“So needy.” You huffed, tongue clicking. But, in spite of the attitude you caught lacing his words, you were more than happy to comply. He moaned in delight when you finally pressed your mouth to his, immediately delving into a deep, hot kiss. You felt him throb in your hold, hips stuttering. “You close already?” You questioned against his lips, biting teasingly at his swollen lower one.

He nodded shamelessly, breathing hotly into your mouth. “You know how sensitive I am in the morning,” he uttered, voice airy and rough. You chuckled in acknowledgment, grin widening as you circled your thumb around his tip and his body shuddered uncontrollably on top of yours. “Fuck. Fuck. I’m—”

His breath stalled as he came, jaw going slack, eyes rolling. Sporadic, low moans are quick to tail the brief silence, and continue through his orgasm, until he goes completely limp on top of you. You murmured soft praises in his ear, tracing soft kisses over the shell of it. Your hand doesn’t stop until he’s whining weakly and nudging his hips away from your touch, the oversensitivity making his muscles tighten and shudder.

“Ah, you make me crazy.” He uttered, panting heavily as a hazy smile curled onto his lips.

“You love it,” you countered cheekily, pecking the tip of his nose, before feeling the stickiness of his release lingering between your fingers, “but what should I do with all this?”

“Well, now I’m super comfortable so I’m not moving. You better just lick it up. It’s your fault anyway.”

“Or maybe I should make you—”

“Up! I’m up!”

You doubled over cackling as he quite literally threw himself off the couch, long limbs flailing as he collided with the floor with a harsh thud.

Laughing, you carefully lifted yourself off the couch, leaning over him with a playful smirk. “Then, we’ll resume our lazy Sunday after I wash my hands.”

He smiled right back up at you. “Good idea. I’ll wait here. Don’t take long. I was promised cuddles all day long and I will be upset if I do not receive them.”

“Gosh. So needy.”

[jeezricks]

@daughter-like-father​​  said:   " morty,  run! "  beth  cried  out.  she  grimaced,  gasping  as  she  tried  to  move  her  legs  under  the  rubble  that  ended  up  on  top  of  her.  he  might  have  been  from  another  reality  but  he  was  still  her  son  goddammit.  and  if  she  could  do  one  thing  right?  it  was  saving  her  son.  she  wasn't  going  to  die  a  bad  parent  like  her  father.  " GO! "  beth  yelled.  he  could  get  to  rick  before  the  morty  with  the  eyepatch.  it  was  the  only  way.  " .... please. "

(holy  shit,  holy  shit,  holy  shit!)  he  hates  it  here!  he  really,  really  hates  it  here ;  moreso  than  usual  in  this  moment!  the  shitadel’s  crumbling  around  them--  it  might  only  be  a  matter  of  time  before  it  fucking  explodes  again,  for  all  c-136  knows!  

what  the  hell  is  going  on?!  doesn’t  matter!  he  doesn’t  care!  the  finer  details  of  the  situation  are  fit  to  be  utterly  disregarded  in  favour  of  simply  getting  out  of  it,  as  far  as  morty’s  concerned!  shoving  his  way  through  crowds  of  infinite  ricks,  infinite  mortys,  pushing  a  path  through  the  veritable  sea  of  grandfathers  and  grandsons,  he’s  starting  to  think  he’s  making  pretty  good  headway  with  regards  to  his  plan  of  blowing  through  mortytown  and  making  a  hasty  exit,  when--

“ mom--?! ”  what  the  fuck  are  you  doing  here?!  almost  innately,  the  teenager  can  ascertain  even  in  the  midst  of  his  blind  panic  that  this  beth  doesn’t  derive  from  his  home  dimension,  but  that  hardly  even  matters ;  terror  over  the  prospect  of  what  could  happen  to  her  here  grips  his  too  tender  heart  like  an  icy  fist.  

glancing  across  to  the  c-137  duo  across  the  way,  seemingly  locked  in  some  kind  of  confrontation  with  the  citadel’s  president,  morty  scoffs  with  newfound  understanding.  jesus  christ.  should’ve  guessed  as  much,  he  supposes.  wherever  they  go,  this  bullshit  follows  right  after,  and  it’s  just  his  goddamn  luck  he’s  about  to  become  their  collateral  damage.

shaking  his  head  in  firm,  fervent  denial  of  her  insistence  that  he  ought  abandon  her,  it  appears  he  doesn’t  entertain  beth’s  plea  for  even  a  moment.  there  is  no  hesitation.  “ fuck  that!  what  the  fuck  are  you  saying?!  n-  no  way,  i’m,  i’m  not  leaving  you  here! ”  

at  her  side  in  an  instant,  a  grimly  determined  expression  masking  the  worst  of  his  anxiety,  c-136  pulls  away  the  heavily  piled  rubble  with  multiple  grunts  of  effort,  left  breathless  come  the  end  of  his  efforts--  but  they  were  not  in  vain.  his  sides  ache  and  throat  burns  from  the  exertion  of  running  for  his  life  and  rescuing  this ...  his,  technically,  mother,  but  he’ll  just  have  to  suck  it  up.  

“ we’ve--  we’ve  gotta  go!  don’t  worry  about  them,  or  the  eyepatch  morty,  they’re--  they’re  gonna  be  fine.  i  promise  you.  they  pull  shit  like  this  all  the  time.  k--  kinda  notorious  for  it.  this,  this  is,  um.  they’ve  got  somethin’  called  plot  armour,  right?  but  we  don’t  have  that,  so--  y’know,  let’s  make  fucking  tracks. ”  (before  we’re  killed  off  like  a  bunch  of  these  other  background  ricks  and  mortys...)  morty  picks  himself  up,  and  extends  a  hand  to  beth  to  help  her  up  in  turn.  “ can ...  can  you  walk? ”

[jdramione]

There will never be enough Steve, Sasha, and Sai in my life.  EVER.  I could read this series of stories forever.  @cleo4u2 @xantissa 

My First Story Rec:  The Honeypot Series https://archiveofourown.org/series/581935

At some point, I’ll figure out how to archive my story recs together.  But I want to give each rec it’s moment to begin with.  The Honeypot series moves me.  Like, in my soul.  It’s gorgeous.

These stories captivate me in ALL the ways.  I just finished a re-read of them, and again, I’m just absolutely blown away by it.  The story is deep and incredibly moving.  There are scenes that leave me WRECKED - and I’m not even talking about the sex scenes.  

There’s a scene in the 1st fic that describes one of the characters so achingly perfect - they give him JUSTICE and character background that is so spot on and achingly accurate, that I have to stop mid-sentence and try again, because it hurts and is so good... It just nails all the feels in all the right places, OMG.  

There’s a scene in the 2nd story that is so realistic, so heartbreaking - I must re-read it over and over - it’s hauntingly and achingly gorgeous in all it’s angsty glory.  

There’s a scene in the 4th story that I can barely get through - just SOBBING my heart out.  The LOVE in this story is easily one of the best out there.  It’s real, it’s tangible, it’s gut-wrenching.  

The sex is AMAZE-BALLS, HOLY SHIT IT’S THE BEST THING EVER.  But the story is so much more.  

It’s more.  It’s everything a story should be.  And it leaves me breathless for more.  

Steve, Sasha, and Sai are perfect, and I will always need more of them, even if the authors say the series is complete.  I wish they would go back and explore these characters again.  

I fall in love with them over, and over again.  I’m utterly infatuated.

And seriously, could Sasha be ANY HOTTER?  

It’s one of those stories that I have to have repeated inner debates on whether or not to search out a new fic or just enjoy immersing myself yet again into this visceral and lush world, where everything just fits, like the perfect puzzle piece. It all is described in such detail, you can practically taste the air, and the characters feel foundational in a way most stories lack because they can’t see them so wholeheartedly, in both their strengths as well as their weaknesses.  

To me, this is a core fic.  If you want a story that completely fleshes out ALL the characters, plot, and storyline - this is the one for you.  It’s angsty, so much so that one physically aches for these characters, but in that angst, it’s so gorgeously done that despite how much it hurts, you need more.

What inspires me to write?  Stories like this one, where I can live and breathe these characters in a world that was created exactly and perfectly for them.

If you have read it - let me know I’m not alone in my obsession.  If you haven’t, go READ this series and then get back to me.  I need to fan-girl a bit on some of these authors, and need some friends who are along with me for the ride. 

[weirdochick56]

Mr. Evans II- Chris Evans AU Chapter Four

Teacher!Chris Evans x Student!Reader

Warnings: Explicit language, heartbreak, angst, a little bit of infidelity (it doesn’t get that far but if this triggering to you, kindly don’t read.) A little bit of Jealousy. 

Disclaimers: I don’t condone relationships of this kind, this is for entertainment purposes only.

Word Count: 2,552 words

Read Chapter Three here!!

A/n: Sry for the delay, guys!! There are some things going on in my school that I’ll post about later. Happy reading : )

***

(Gif isn’t mine!! I don’t even- how can one human being be so fucking beautiful? I’m-)

The car ride to the mall was rigid. 

You spent it looking out the window, earbuds secured on, music loud. You started fiddling with your fingers and trying your damn hardest to block out Cassidy leaning over every two seconds to kiss Chris. 

It was Cassidy’s car and the smell of perfume was almost overwhelming. She was obnoxiously neat, not a single crumb in between the cushions of her leather seats. 

Sighing, you turn the volume up. I Wanna Be Yours by the Arctic Monkeys thrums strongly in your ears and you try to let Alex Turner’s voice distract you from the secret smiles Chris and Cassidy share every five seconds. 

You press your forehead against the cold car window, lips pursing. 

You didn’t think this would be so hard to bear through. You knew you weren’t entirely over him, but you hadn’t expected it to hurt this much to see him with another woman. 

Such bullshit. 

You just wish you could-

Ring. 

Ring. 

Ring. 

You've abruptly tugged away from your thoughts as your phone rings loudly from your short pocket.

Quickly glancing up, you notice Cassidy is looking at you and Chris’ eyes peer at you from the rearview mirror.  

“Sorry.” You look away, tugging your phone out, unplugging your earbuds, and answering without looking at who was calling you.

“Hello?”

“Babe?” 

You freeze, biting your lips hard. “Daniel?” 

You practically feel when Chris’ gaze snaps towards you and you only bite your lip harder. 

“Babe!” You hold back the urge to cringe at how loud he is. 

“Hey baby,” you mumble back softly, happy to hear his voice despite everything. 

 “How are you? How’s dad? How’s everything?” His questions bombard you, one after the other.

You can’t help but snort. “Dad?”

“Yeah...I can call him that right?” You can almost see him shrugging shyly in that Daniel manner. 

You ponder on it for a while, accidentally catching Chris’ eye. You don’t know why, but you hold his gaze as you answer your boyfriend. 

“Yeah sure. He’ll be your dad too, soon enough.” 

Oh, God. As soon as you say it, you regret it. Chris clenches his jaw and looks away instantly. You keep looking at him though, trying to decipher what that meant. 

“Are you implying what I think you’re implying?” He replies cheekily. 

You laugh, jesting back. “I don’t know. Am I?” 

“God, I hope you are,” he breathes. 

You can’t help it when you blush. “Really?”

He sighs. “Hey I know we’ve had our rough patches, but I love you Y/n. So much.”

You know he’s referring to your fight and because you just know him so well you also know that this is his way of apologizing to you. 

You smile softly. “And I love you.”

He laughs lightly, relieved. “Good.”

“Also, everything’s fine. I’m actually headed to buy a dress for the wedding right now.” 

He clicks his tongue. “I wish I could be there to see you.”

You smirk to yourself. “Do you, now?”

You don’t notice when you near the mall, too lost in your conversation with Daniel and how utterly satisfying Chris’ squirming was. 

“Yes I do,” his voice turns sultry. “Red looks so fucking good on you.” 

You giggle at his throaty groan. “Red it is then.”

He groans harder. “Jesus, Y/n.” 

You laugh even more. “Don’t worry babe I’ll send you pic-”

“We’re here.” Chris’ voice roughly cuts through your phonecall. You look up at him. 

He looks utterly irritated as he taps his foot impatiently, jaw ticking as his eyes sear through you. 

“Cassidy’s already inside,” he mumbles roughly, clearly holding back the urge to growl.

“Hey baby,” you talk into the phone, never breaking eye contact with Chris. “I’ve gotta go. Call you tonight.”

He exhales sharply. “Send me pictures.”

You know Chris heard when his jaw clenches impossibly more and his nostrils flare. Another surge of satisfaction rushes through you and you bite your lip- like you can’t help but do so. 

“I’ll facetime you while I’m in bed. Love you.”

And then you crawl out of the car, brushing past a very annoyed Chris. 

Oh. This was gonna be fun. 

*

“Holy crap, this is so gorgeous, right babe?!” Cassidy holds up a long green dress for him to see. It was strapless and backless with intricate sequin work in the front. 

A bit too much for you, but probably gorgeous on Cassidy who you were sure could pull a sack of potatoes off.

He hums distractedly from behind you. “Mhm, it’s nice.”

You’d decided to go into town to the only mall for hours and Cassidy had suggested you go into a cute little boutique that dealt mostly with party dresses.

You flick through the dresses, not seeing anything eye-catching whatsoever. There were some red dresses but they were either too big or too simple. 

“I’m gonna go try it on,” she squeals, seemingly unaware of her boyfriend’s disinterest in her dress as she heads into a dressing room in the far end of the boutique. 

You move on down, brow furrowed as you look deeper into the racks.

Almost twenty minutes pass and you still haven’t found anything. You’re about to throw the towel when-

“Try this one,” his voice is deep as he holds a blood-red dress in front of you. What the hell?

You peer up at him, shocked. “Where’d you find it?”

“Just try it on,” he murmurs, firmly pushing it into your arms. You blink at him once before nodding slowly, making your way to the dressing room nearest to you. 

Reluctantly, you peel your clothes off and tug on the red dress. Resolving not to think about what any of that meant, you pull the zipper up as far as you can. 

“Shit,” you curse loudly, bending your elbow further. 

“What happened?” he calls from outside the dressing room. 

You frown. “I can’t zip up the dress. Could you maybe get an employee to- what the shit?” you screech as he suddenly pulls the door open and steps into the tiny dressing room with you, closing it behind him.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” You hiss lowly, your heart already starting to race. 

He sighs, gaze meeting yours in the mirror. A tingle travels through your spine and you swallow thickly. 

“I’m zipping your dress, sweetheart,” he replies as if it’s obvious, hands already reaching out for you. 

“What? No!” You shriek incredulously, spinning around and backing away from his touch. 

He purses his lips, his demeanor all too calm. “It’s not a big deal. Really.” 

You scoff, face growing red with vexation. “Your girlfriend is only a few feet away. You can’t just come in here after we almost-”

“After we almost what?” He cuts you off briskly, stepping closer in the already-cramped dressing room. He tilts his head to the side- mocking you in a cynical way, you think. 

Your breath immediately hitches at his sudden shift in demeanor and you bite your lip lightly, watching him cautiously.

He continues, pretty blue eyes suddenly ablaze. “After we almost kissed yesterday? Is that it?”

Your face grows impossibly warmer and you don’t know if you’re pissed or embarrassed or both because he knew exactly what you meant and because the memory of that moment was almost too much to bear.

“Don’t. Don’t go there, Chris,” you warn almost too quietly to be anything other than a breathless beseech. 

He doesn’t seem to care though, and you honestly can tell if you hate or love it as he steps even closer to you, crowding you against the mirror. His gaze flickers to your lips and you can feel your stomach clench in sinful anticipation. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

You’re powerless to him and he knows it, dammit. 

You look at him with desperation and he hopes he knows it’s the kind of desperation which is begging him not to do something both of you would lament later on. Something you’d feel guilty for but absolutely wouldn’t refuse because even as you beg him with your eyes not to kiss you, you ache for nothing more than to feel the warmth of his soft mouth on yours and the inquisitive yet desperate touch of his hands on your skin once again. 

 You need to stop this. Right now. Even if you don’t want to. Even if you can’t--you’ll have to be able to because neither of your partners deserved this. 

You’re stronger than this, Y/n, you think, readying a million things to say to him right now in your mind. 

A firm ‘stop’ or even ‘leave right now’ would be enough. A fire builds deep in your belly as you open your mouth to stop his arrogant ass right this instant. But a split-second before you’re about to speak, you make the grave mistake of looking into his eyes...and your resolve immediately dissolves. 

He looks so lost. So confused and vulnerable and conflicted. Like he doesn’t know what to do with all these emotions and your heart clenches in that way that you hated because you knew what it meant. It meant that your brain was losing all rationale and becoming a jumbled mess and you wouldn’t be in control anymore.

Your mouth snaps shut as he speaks, voice quiet. “I would’ve kissed you.”

At his shocking confession, you swallow audibly, your stupid pathetic foolish heart fluttering. 

“I would’ve kissed you”. So simple yet so effective in making you a puddle of emotions and conflict.

“I would’ve kissed you too,” you mutter to your insides, not having the courage to utter it out loud.

You shake your head, knowing you’re about to lie but needing to put some space between you and this situation. It was too much. “But I wouldn’t have kissed you back.”

A flicker of hurt flashes on his face before he instantly smirks, all traces of emotional vulnerability masterfully masked with sarcastic arrogance.  

He looks you directly in the eyes, face tilting just the tiniest bit so that it looked like he was gonna kiss you.  

Your heart immediately speeds up and your hands get sweaty as you tried not to think about how fucking addictive his kisses were and how much you missed them.

He peers up at you through his eyelashes with the damn sexiest look anyone’s ever given you and you swear to God if you don’t get him out right now you would give in and fuck him right here right now. 

“Really Y/n? Because I think,” as he continues speaking, his hand casually rises, the pads of his fingers barely brushing over your cheekbone as he gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. 

You try to fight it off, you really do, but despite your every mental command, you instinctively tremble and lean into his hand, lips parting the slightest bit as your heart clenches with the sweetest pain. 

You wanted more of him. God, it hurt just how much you wanted all of him all the fucking time.

His dumb, arrogant smirk widens instantly with satisfaction and you grow angry. More with yourself than with him, truthfully. “...that if I hadn’t stopped, you  would’ve given yourself to me right there on that kitchen counter, sweeheart.” 

You freeze at his words, your distress very quickly morphing into anger. As your entire body flushed with humiliation, you fisted your hands, clenching them so hard your nails bit into the skin of your palms. 

Just who the hell did he think he was, saying shit like that? 

You cared not for the sharp fleeting pain as you glared up at him. “Shut up.”

“No,” he instantly responds, face suddenly turning serious. “I won’t shut up. You felt it too, you can’t deny it. What we’ve always felt-- it came back but stronger this time, right?” He looks into your eyes for confirmation even though you both knew that he didn’t need it.

You grow more and more anxious as he speaks because the accuracy is scary and because you hate yourself for it being that way.

“I felt nothing.” You look away, shrugging him off. 

He clenches his jaw. “So what? You’re just going to ignore this?”

You huff, looking up at him again. “There is nothing to ignore.”

He laughs out a scoff. “Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, sweetheart.”

You force your face to harden, stone-cold even though you felt like dying on the inside. “Let me make this very clear so that there are no future mishaps; there is nothing here, Chris.” You step up to him, pressing yourself to him challengingly. “And there never will be, so just stop and go back to your girlfriend.”

He doesn’t even flinch and his eyes make you feel so infuriatingly naked. He smiles dryly. 

“See, the thing is, the more you say that the less I believe you.”

Yeah, and the more he talks the more you feel like slapping him. And even as you refrain from doing so, the want to inflict pain on him grows and grows.

You wanted him to hurt. You wanted him to be in so much pain you-

You smile with sickly sweetness, tilting your head sideways. “See, the thing is, that I don’t really give a shit.” You need to put space between you desperately, so you step back a bit pressing against the cool mirror again.

“Leave, Chris. We’re not doing this,” you grit out through clenched teeth, barely restraining yourself from slapping him silly.

His jaw muscles tense and tick as you stare eachother down for a few more seconds, neither willing to back down. 

He finally yields, stiff expression melting into a nonchalant grin as he takes a few steps back. 

“You can lie to everyone else and yourself all you want miss Y/l/n, but at the end of the day, we both know we’re an inevitable disaster. We always have been and we always will be.”

He pauses just before leaving, glancing at you over his shoulder. “And uh- by the way, that dress? It’s the one.”

And then he walks out, leaving you a breathless, emotionally conflicted mess. 

*

You insist on walking home after the dresses are paid for. Cassidy ends up going for a different dress which looks, of course, frustratingly beautiful on her. 

“Are you sure?” she mumbles, gripping Chris’ hand. You avoid each other's gazes as much as possible.

You smile a bit sadly. “Pretty sure, but thanks for today.”

Not waiting for a response, you walk away.

*

I hate him. I hate him. I hate him, you chanted over and over again in your head. I hate him so fucking much.

You throw your bags onto the bed, unable to hold back a frustrated scream from escaping you. 

Thank god no one is home because if they heard the commotion in your room, they’d be asking too many questions.

How dare he? How dare he go into that dressing room and say stuff like that? That you were inevitable? That there was nothing either of you could do to stop this from happening? With exactly what right did he go in there and make you feel so fucking powerless?  

You know what? Fuck him. Fuck him and Cassidy and their pathetic little relationship. 

You weren’t that dumb, weak, pathetic little girl you used to be and he had no control over you. 

For some reason, you think saying it to yourself will somehow make it true. 

Feeling yourself flush with determination, you change into more comfortable clothes-- Daniel’s the 1975 t-shirt which fit you a bit tighter than Mr. Evans’ but was still a little too big on you and a pair of fuzzy socks. You pull your hair into a messy bun, uncaring of anything but this insatiable want to let off some steam steadily building inside you. 

You head downstairs and turn on the radio, grabbing a bottle of liquor from your father’s cabinet. 

You smirk to yourself as you open the bottle and take a swig. 

Just like good ol’ times.

Read Chapter Five Here!!

***

OOOH you already know what’s coming up, guys!!   Who’s ready for the most angsty fluffy read of their lives?

A Special Thanks to:

@star-spangled-steve​

@tomoyaevaans

@pepsicolailovedogs

@whereeverythingisbetter​

@fallenoutofrose​

@plutonium-m​​

@beepbeepromanoff​

@faithmichaluk​

@sincerelytlh​

@tomshelbystits​ 

@kind-sober-fullydressed​

@liatnisim

@sashimi-cat​

@zofty15​

@gemgemswift​

@fafulous​

@chljmntgy​

And My forevers!

@jessikared97​

@ladyofletters67​

@lilypalmer1987​

@sammykb1994​

@tomshelbystits​ 

[oneshot-wxnderland]

Wandering Eyes | Jason Grace x Y/n x Percy Jackson

summary: While Percy is off on a long quest, his girlfriend Y/n can’t stand going so long without being satisfied, so she turns to Jason for help.

category: EXTREMELY smutty, some curse words, and very long. Proceed with caution.

______________ 

           When Percy had left for whatever mission Poseidon needed him for, you had been wrecked with worry. Who knew what kinds of danger he would find himself in? But you knew that no matter what came his way, Percy would always prevail. Still, that didn’t stop you from missing him. You had been prepared to miss his jokes, his goofy grins, and training with him, but you hadn’t thought about having to go without sleeping with him. You were used to having Percy whenever you wanted but now you had to deal with just ignoring your cravings or resolving them yourself. At first you were doing fine, but it’s been a month now.

          You were getting cranky and short tempered and so utterly desperate to be touched that against you will, your eyes started to wander.

          You hadn’t even noticed it at first. When you had stumbled upon Jason practicing with his golden sword you watched him demolish the dummies with the same kind of heated gaze that you’d always watched Percy with. Nothing got you going like watching your man work up a sweat with a sword. You rationalized your feelings by thinking that you only took notice of Jason because he reminded you of Percy in some ways. But maybe you weren’t concealing your expression as well as you thought because when Jason glanced up and locked eyes with you his widened in surprise.

          The second time you almost forgot yourself was when you were picking strawberries in the field. For having a magical climate, Camp Half-Blood sure was unbearably hot some days, which was why you wore only your lightest weight tank-top and shorts. And just because the blistering heat wasn’t punishment enough, the gods decided to send a gust of wind to knock over your basket. So there you were, crawling around on the ground picking up your scattered fruits when you heard a throat being cleared above you. 

          Jason stood in front of you and looked down at you, his face flushed and his eyes kept dropping down to your cleavage before they snapped back up to your face.

          “Hey, Jason,” you greeted him. You knew exactly what you were doing to him and you should’ve stopped since you were both well aware that you were taken, but it had been too long since Percy was here to look at you like that and make you feel that way. So you gave him a sweet, innocent smile and subtly pushed your arms together, giving him even more to try and keep his eyes off of.

          “Hey.” His voice was clipped as if it pained him to speak. Then, before you could do anything further that you would regret, you heard some other campers approaching. The relief in Jason’s face was almost enough to make you laugh, but your disappointment surprised you more.   

          It had been a few days since the strawberry fields incident and you were heading down for a swim in canoe lake, planning to shake your fist at the water and get Poseidon to send your boyfriend home, but you soon got distracted. Jason was on the basket ball court: shirtless, expertly outmaneuvering his opponents, and making you wet before you even got in the water. 

          Of course you were shocked and disgusted with yourself for thinking about another guy when you loved Percy, but your haze of pent up lust and frustration clouded your judgment. Which was to blame for as to why you were now pressed in between a wall inside Cabin One and Jason. 

          All thoughts of decency were evicted from your minds as Jason’s hands slid up your thighs and gripped your hips. Your tongues met as your mouths crashed against each other, like a brand new Ferrari repeatedly speeding into a wall for the thrill and danger of it. One of your hands was on the back of his neck and the other on his broad shoulder, trying desperately to pull him closer and closer.

         Jason lifted you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist, feeling his growing need for you there. His burning lips left yours and you panted as he blazed trails down your throat and neck. 

          He felt so different from Percy. As if he were trying to get years of suppressed lust out in every kiss.

          “Kiss right under her ear, she likes that.”

          You and Jason were shocked out of your horny stupors and turned to see Percy casually leaning against the door frame.

          “Percy!” You were so stunned that you couldn’t feel anything else.

          “Man, Jason,” Percy spoke with none of the rage you would have expected, he just slowly walked over to were you stood frozen, letting the door shut behind him. “I always knew you had a thing for Y/n but I never thought you’d act on it, especially when I’m off risking my life on a quest.”

          “Fuck, Percy I-”

          “And you’ve got to slow down a little. Y/n prefers a little build up before the roughness is added. Like this.” 

          Percy pulled you to him with one hand on your waist and one on your neck, kissing you slow and deep. All of your panic was washed away when you tasted his familiar, addicting lips and you eagerly kissed back. You could tell that he was showing off some with the way he demonstrated that he knew exactly what to do to make you melt. And when he pulled back with your lip caught in between his teeth you let out something that was a mix of a moan and a sigh.

          “See?” Percy smirked at your dazed state and Jason stood there, either still too stunned or too turned on to leave. “I get that you’ve wanted this for a while, but take the time to enjoy it. She’s well worth the wait, that I can promise you.”

          With a jerk of Percy’s head, Jason retook his stance in front of you, only this time he went slower and really made your knees weak. Then when you felt Percy press up behind you and start sucking on your neck you nearly lost it then and there. Your gasps and moans filled the otherwise quiet and empty cabin and Percy chuckled against your skin.

          “I think Y/n is asking for a little more, don’t you Jason?”

          “Definitely.”

          Jason untangled himself from your embrace and with your legs feeling like Jello, the sudden loss of one of the pillars that was keeping you upright made you almost fall forward, and you would have embarrassingly hit the floor if Percy hadn’t caught you and lifted you into his strong arms.

          “I have never seen her this needy to be fucked,” Percy remarked in amazement as he walked you over to the bed Jason was readying. 

          “Well what do you expect?” Jason replied as you were set down on the bed, chest heaving as you looked up at the two incredibly sexy guys standing above you, “You left her alone for so long without anyone to fulfill her needs.” 

          Percy’s hand came down to hold your cheek, tilting your face towards his.  “I’m so sorry, baby girl. I should’ve known better than to think that you could wait all this time for me.”

          “Well, what are you going to do to make up for it?” Your challenge makes both boys’ eyebrows raise and they exchange a look. A look that you have seen when they’re about to do something extra devious.

          “I don’t know, Jason, what are we gonna do about it?” Percy removed his hand and you felt goosebumps rise on your skin from the lack of contact in the chilly cabin. 

          “I’m not sure, you should take point on this one, you know her best.”

          The boys continued to study you as if you were a battle map and discuss which plan of attack would be most effective. And as hot as that was, you were too horny to be this patient.

          “May I suggest that whatever you do, you do it now?” Your suggestion came out sounding more like a threat but it got their attention. 

          “You heard her.”

          Immediately your senses were bombarded with squeezing hands, kissing lips, and random snippets of dirty talk that left you breathless. You could hardly differentiate the blond boy from the raven one as they worked in tandem having their way with your willing body. 

          After the initial shock wore off you could see that Percy was laying on his side hovering over you, lips locked with yours as his hand squeezed and played with your chest. Jason, on the other hand, was busying himself kissing and sucking on the insides of your thighs. His fingers traced gingerly over your bikini bottoms and made you shiver. 

          “Please,” you gasped out against Percy’s lips but it was directed toward Jason, who got the message and slid your bottoms down your legs.

          “Holy shit.”

          “Wait until you taste it, man.” 

          Jason took too long to get down to business so you tangled your hand in his hair and tugged him down. When his tongue slid through your folds you felt like you could scream. The way he would expertly dip his tongue into your hole and the move up to suck on your clit left you a panting mess in need of even more. He eventually settled into a rhythm of pumping two fingers in and out of you while sucking your clit into his mouth and Percy was only making it worse by kissing all over your chest and grasping whatever his mouth missed.

          You were getting close and Percy could tell by your high-pitched whines and convulsions. He unattached himself from you with effort and grinned at you.

          “Our girl is about to go,” his voice was the low, raspy drawl he always adorned when things got hot and heavy. “Jason, come up for air. You’re gonna want to be inside her when she does.”

          Jason sat up and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, he had an air of bliss about him as if he had been to Elysium and back. 

          “Better than nectar.”

          You sat up so that you were in front of him and took his wet fingers into your mouth, sucking on them and tasting yourself as you locked eyes with him.

          “Shit, Y/n.” Percy watched with a hunger that rivaled your own. “Don’t give the poor guy a heart attack.” 

          Your boyfriend leaned in close and whispered in your ear, too low for Jason to hear, “Why don’t you give Jason here what he’s always wanted, baby girl?”

          The grin you two shared made Jason’s eyes narrow in suspicion, but his jaw dropped when you got on your hands and knees before him, the ass that had taunted him for so long now being presented to him on a silver platter.

          You moaned in delight when strong hands grabbed your hips and Jason’s tip slid between your folds, the pent up need to be filled completely so close to being obliged. You couldn’t tell if he was savoring the moment or waiting for your permission, but you grew impatient.

          “Fill me up, Jay. I need you so bad.”

          That’s all it took for him to plunge into you. You both let out animalistic moans and Percy took his position in front of you stroking his leaking erection. Your mouth watered at the sight of him and you wasted no time taking as much as you could into your mouth. Percy groaned as you hollowed your cheeks and swallowed around his tip, his hand coming up to make a ponytail in your hair and guide you onto his dick. The sensations the two boys were giving you left your mind blank of anything that wasn’t synonymous with pleasure.  

          It didn’t take long for that familiar coil to tighten, considering it had been so long since you had been with Percy and now with Percy and Jason having their way with you... you didn’t think anything could ever feel so good. The boys were obviously on the same page as you, and as soon as you let go they followed. Jason came harder than he ever had before when he saw your combined juices dripping out of you, and Percy, who had also gone a month with sex, emptied his load and watched with hooded eye as you swallowed it all. 

          The three of you collapsed onto the bed and were too tired to care about all the rules you were breaking by not sleeping in your own cabins. You were just so blissed out and exhausted that you curled up in between Percy and Jason and passed out. 

          “Hey, man,” Jason spoke softly as to not wake you up. “You’re not mad, are you?”

          Percy let out a tired laugh. “For not being able to resist Y/n? How could I blame you?”

[writershapeholeonthedoor]

Yellow Sun - Supercorp

Lena had never be more comfortable ever in her entire life - and she has a hell of a expensive sofa to use at her place. But, if she was going to be honest with herself, it probably wasn't the couch that was making her so comfortable.

She was laying down on Kara's couch - the same old and small couch her friend has since she moved to that apartment according to their other friends - facing the TV where some ramdom Disney movie was playing for the last hour or so. Kara had insisted she needed to watch that particular movie and honestly Lena could never say 'no' to her. Speaking of the blonde, Kara was laying behind her, one arm wrapped around her waist to keep her from falling in the ground - and also pulling her very very close - the other one folded under her own head to give her enough height to watch the movie over Lena's head. Lena's own hand was resting on top of Kara's arm while the other one was under her cheek.

Lena tried to seach on her mind how exactly they ended up like that, but her search came back in blank. She couldn't believe how close they had to be to fit in the tiny space on the couch, or how good it felt to have Kara as your big spoon. And Lena hates cuddling, she tried to remember herself that.

Apparently not with Kara.

To be fair, there was a lot of things Kara was the exception for to her.

Halfway through the movie, after hearing her friend's soft laughs directly on her ear everytime the movie amused her somehow, Lena finally relax and allowed herself to just enjoy the moment. She could always overthink it another time. What she couldn't do another time was having Kara spooning her on her couch, so she was going to take all of it as she could. And maybe mark that day as the best day of her life.

The boy who was apparently training a dragon had just acquired his first success when there was a knock in the door. They both raised their heads to look at it, a little startled by the sound. There was a second of silence, before she felt Kara relaxing behind her again and her body instantly did the same, melting back on the warmthy surrounding her.

"It's Alex." Kara declared.

"Oh." Kara had told her Alex had to work till late and that's why she would be missing their Movie Night. "Aren't you going to open the door?" She asked when Kara made no indication to do so.

She felt the blonde shaking her head. "Nope. She has a key and I'm too comfy to move." Before the words were even out of her mouth, Kara snuggled even more into her, going as far as burrying her nose in her hair.

That made Lena's heart drop to her stomach. Not because she didn't liked it - because, oh boy, she really did - but because that made her body react in ways she wished she could control. Kara had just displayed one of her powers right there in front of her, reminding her once more that her best friend wasn't human and that she had some powers to use as she liked, so she must be able to hear how fast her heart started beating when she got impossibly closer.

Could she pretend Alex had just scared her with the knock? But Kara didn't even said anything about it, wouldn't it be weird? What if she didn't actually hear it? Why did she had to be in love with her best friend?

At some point during her internal battle, Alex had decided to use her keys to let herself in, as Lena could hear the rustling as she opened it. Movie forgotten, not that she was paying much attention before, she watched as Kara's older sister entered the apartment holding three bags of take out food, her cellphone, wallet and keys in only one hand as the other one was pushing the door open and then closing it.

"Hope I'm not too late for Fargo, I really want to watch that one." Alex said as she dropped her things at the side table. "Maggie is still stuck at the precint and she said she's too tired to stop by later. Anyway, I brought..." The redhead stoped talking once she turned around to face them.

Lena watched, in horror almost, as Alex frowned when she saw them cuddling on Kara's couch, looking them up and down twice, before a smile slowly started to spread all over her face. She could spot a glint in the agent's eyes as she took several steps foward and suddenly Alex looked like Maggie was in front of her, not them.

"Oh my God!" She exclamed, pointing at them. Her smile somehow got even bigger and Lena felt Kara raising her head again behind her to look at whatever her sister was so excited about. "Holy shit, you finally did it!"

"What?" Kara was the one to question her sister and Lena was happy about it because she was too confused to say anything.

"You two finally figure it out!" Alex pumped a fist in the air as she celebrated not so quietly. "Oh, God, let me tell you how happy I am!" And apparently it was going to take some time for her to do it because the took her jacket off and plopped herself in the armchair besides the couch with a sigh, that sounded tired, and a huge grin. "If I had to go another sisters' night hearing about how perfect Lena is and how you're never going to have her, I would have go insane!" Alex hit both hands against the arms of the chair and laughed.

Lena felt Kara's body go instantly tense behind her. She almost felt like a rock suddenly, the arm around her waist shot away from her like it was on fire and Kara managed to put a inch of distance between them in the tight space. The CEO was still a little confused on what was going on, but she was sure of one thing: Kara think she's perfect. Which is an absurd idea, because Kara is the definition of perfection herself, how could Lena ever compare to her?

"I mean, it took you guys long enough! All the pinning looks, the longing looks, the suffering looks. And the flirting!" Alex shook her head. "Jesus, all that flirting was lighting a flame in every room you two went."

"Alex..." Kara tried to stop her sister and Lena could hear, even in that small simple word, how scared she was that Alex was going to keep going.

Which she did. "How many times I had to sit here and hear as Kara went 'Lena is so smart, and kind, and selfless, and clever and so so beautiful! I wish she would look at me like more than a friend' and don't get me started on the time she would rant for hours when you wore that three pieces suit. Boy, I thought you had broke my sister!" Alex laughed again.

"Alex, please..." Kara was trying to find a way out, she could feel it. But she couldn't get away without jumping across Lena on the couch and touch her was apparently the last thing Kara wanted to do in that moment.

"No, no! Now that you finally grew the balls to tell her about how you feel after months and months and months of telling me how much you wanted to do it, I'm allowed to have some fun out of it!" The agent got up suddenly and headed for the kitchen. "Let me grab a beer first and I will tell you everything about the time you asked Kara to go to that party with you and how she spent three days to choose a dress."

Lena watched as Alex walked to the fridge and she wanted nothing more than get up and kiss the woman because she just made her night. Kara had other ideas, though. The second Alex had turned her back to them, she used her flying ability to float from behind her friend and stand in front of the couch. Lena also managed to sit up, a little slower, as she opened her mouth to ask Kara to calm down because she was clearly freaking out. Her eyes were wide, she had both hands in front of her body like she was trying to defend herself, and she was putting as much distance between them as her small living room would allow.

"Lena, I..." She sounded so in panic and so scared that Lena felt her heart break inside her chest. How could this wonderful woman think she couldn't possibly feel the same about her.

"Kara."

"I'm so so so sorry, I never meant to... I shouldn't... I..." Her back finally hit the wall behind her and now Kara looked like a deer in the headlights. Her arms fell to her side and her head dropped in defeat. "I'm sorry. Please, don't hate me."

It broke Lena's heart even more. Kara sounded so broken, so hopeless, so terrified with the perspective of having just lost Lena. She could almost hear the blonde's heart breaking at every word she spoke and she could see how completely defeated she looked with her shoulders dropped and head low, hands on her hips and small sniffs here and there as she waited for Lena's veredict.

"Uh, guys?" Lena didn't turned around to see how confused Alex was when she got up.

The distance between her and Kara was probably less than ten steps, but it felt like she was trying to reach the top of the Everest when she started walking. There was a thousand words she wanted to say in that moment, speeches she had prepared numerous times before if they ever got to that point, praises and sweet nothings, but it all got stuck in the back of her throat, a huge lumb leaving her speechless in what had to be the most important time of her life. Instead, she walked.

Kara could have run away if she wanted and Lena wondered if her body was betraying her like hers, if she was stuck in place like the words on her mouth. Either way, she was glad Kara stood there the way she did.

And maybe she was hoping she was going to recover on the way, but when she finally reached the top of the mountain, breathless, scared and excited, she realized that words could never make justice to that. So Lena ordened her legs to stop and to her knees stay firm on their place and not fail her, and now her arms would do the job.

She raised her right hand and placed her index finger under Kara's chin so she would raise her head to look at her. She needed to see those blue eyes again, she needed to see that face again. Kara's eyes were filled with tears and fear, and she looked so so lost. Lena had no idea what she looked like, but it had to be something in the lines of 'completely and utterly in love' and 'hopelessly happy'. And maybe that was what make Kara relax under her touch. Not completely, she still looked terrified, but she also stoped looking like she was a second of running away like a scared animal.

So Lena smiled at her, the most crude and honest smile she had ever gave anyone, the smile that belonged to Kara and Kara only, and moved her hand to cup her friend's cheek. Her skin was soft and it changed under her fingers when Kara swallowed hard and clenched her jaws. Lena used the tip of her index finger to trace the line of the strong jaw until it was relaxed again and Kara might have realized what was going on by now because she also smiled at her.

It was small, still uncertain, definitely still scared, but it was breath taking and warm as the love she could see shinning in the blue eyes. In a world where they lived in, filled with bad guys and murdering folks, with people who got out of their way to make Lena's life a living hell or to try and kill her, in a city where aliens and humans hated her simply because of her last name, no one could blame her for being so deeply in love with someone who shines like the sun. Her very personal yellow sunshine.

Lena ran her hand back until it was touching soft blonde curls behind Kara's neck and then she was leaning foward, closing her eyes and raising her other hand to cup Kara's face too. And if she thought having Kara as her friend was the best thing that ever happened in her life, kissing her could never be compared to it. She knew, still standing there, lips smashed together and shallow breath, that it would be her last first kiss.

(Unless she decided to kiss Alex as a form of thank you so fucking much!)

It took Kara a while to react, but then she was placing both hands on Lena's hips and pressing back into the kiss, and they both felt like they could die in that second and be happy. Suddenly Kara gasped and pulled Lena closer to her, swirling her arms around the brunette's waist to pull her into her body, melting their bodies together. Lena had to stay on her tip toes since she hadn't the advantage of her high heels and she threw her arms on the other woman's shoulders, locking them behind her neck.

They broke their kiss and their foreheads rested against each other, the tip of their noses touching gently. When Lena finally opened her eyes her breath got stuck in her lungs. Kara was looking down at her with so much love and adoration, Lena could hardly believe her luck. If she wasn't feeling the same thing, she would have doubted someone could feel so much.

The CEO used her left hand to play with the strays of blonde hair as they both smiled at each other with the huggest smiles anyone ever held. Lena could finally hold her ray of sunshine in her arms, it was almost too much to deal with.

"Your heart is beating really fast." Kara whispered with a dreamy look.

Lena scoffed quietly. "You better get used to that if we're going to keep doing this."

Blue eyes sparkled with joy and hapiness and bliss. "You're not the only one." Kara took one arm from her wait to be able to grab hold of her right hand. Lena allowed her to gently remove her arm away from her neck and watched in awe as the superhero ran her hand down Lena's arm until she reached her palm, which she coaxed to stay flat as she moved it to place right in the middle of her chest, between her breasts.

For sure, right in that spot, Lena could feel Kara's heart beating fast against her palm, almost like it was trying to reach her from inside. Lena sighed and leaned foward for another kiss, something Kara was really happy to give.

When they got appart, not even five seconds after, there was a throat cleaning behind them and they both remembered they weren't alone. Kara barely tilted her head to the side to look at her sister and Lena wasn't ready to add any space between them, so she kept her position, only turning her head enough to also look at Alex, her temple now resting against the blonde's forehead.

"Yes?" Lena asked with a smirk.

Alex was still standing in the middle of the kitchen, arms folded, her right on top holding her beer. She shrugged. "Oh, nothing. Just wasn't feeling like watching my baby sister making out, that's all." She was trying to sound mad, but they could all hear the hapiness in her voice and the smile on her face also gave her away.

Lena and Kara giggled happily at each other before looking back at the agent. "Alex, I'm really greatful for what you did..." Kara nodded eagerly to her words. "I will even buy you a new motorcicle to show how very thankful I am, but I'm going to ask you to leave."

Alex pursed her lips to stop her smile and nodded. "I didn't know you had that into you, Luthor."

Lena shrugged. "No offense, agent."

Alex raised her hands in front of her. "None taken." She put her beer down, grabbed her jacket and started walking to the door. "I understand." She stoped to raise one hand to Kara give her a high-five, which she obviously did, then she went to take her phone, wallets and keys to put them in her back poket, then she started digging into one of the take out bags. "I'm going to take one of these, if you don't mind." She teased.

"Feel free to do it." Lena waved the hand that wasn't still feeling Kara's heartbeat.

Alex took one of the white boxs out and nodded. "Anyway, have a nice evering, ladies." She opened the door and was halfway out when she turned around. "Just to be sure, you two weren't together when I walked in, right?"

They both shook her head, but Lena wad the one who actually answered. "Nope." She popped the 'p', something Kara had never hear her doing before and it make her giggle.

"Just to be sure." Alex smiled at them one last time and started walking out again, slowly closing the door behind her. They still heard her saying: "I can't believe I lost the bet and it's my own fault!"

"What bet?" Lena asked once they were finally alone.

Kara shrugged. "Maggie and her took a bet on how long it would take for me to get the girl."

"How long did she bet?"

"Never." The blonde rolled her eyes. "Maggie said it could go from one year to five."

Lena nodded, clearly amused. "Well, next time I want to join the bet. I was always very good at gambling."

"Oh really?" Kara hugged her again, both arms around her waist. "But now I have the girl, what are you going to bet on next?"

"We will figure it out." Their lips met again, all smiles and caresses and they both felt like they had found home.

Months later, when Lena won the bet of how long it would take for Kara to propose after already winning the 'How long will it take for Kara to ask Lena to move in with her?' and 'How long till they get a dog together?', Alex and Maggie banned her from their bets.

[stevebillyrecs]

Summer of ‘85 Fic Recs

If you live in the northern hemisphere and are anything like me, you’re starting to really miss summer right about now! Or maybe you hate the heat, and want to experience it only from a distance by reading about it in your safe, cool living room. Or hey, maybe you’re only in it for the lifeguard crop tops, sailor shorts, and ice cream licking, that’s valid, too. In any case, I’m here to interrupt the Halloween mood with some sweet, sticky summer fun (or summer angst, or summer smut)!

Included: fics featuring Scoops, Starcourt Mall, Hawkins Community Pool, the Fourth of July, and other summer shenanigans. Not included: fics dealing with all the other stuff that happened in S3, recovery fics, fics set after the epilogue or outside of Hawkins.

35 fics under the cut – happy reading!

Salted Caramel (And Other Flavors) by kate_button / @un-buttoned (3k, E)

Billy’s all tan and smug and shitty and Steve has. Feelings about it. He’s not too happy about it - Billy’s kind of a dick. And Steve can’t stop thinking about the way he smells. It’s a Problem.

there’s something about a sailor by gothyringwald / @gothyringwald​ (1k, E)

Billy gets Steve to leave the sailor hat on.

bloom by crappyfriday / @softloucre (20k, NR)

In a small town in Indiana, two boys spend the summer listening to music, eating summer fruits, smoking weed, and falling in love with each other. Vignettes throughout the summer of ‘85.

so many ways to talk about longing by lymricks / @lymricks (3k, M)

Steve wakes up–in a pool lounger–to Billy Hargrove looming over him. Billy pushes his sunglasses down and Steve thinks sleepily that it must be so that Steve gets the full impact of Billy’s narrow-eyed glare. “Harrington,” Billy says. “We’re fucking closed.” (or, three times Billy doesn’t let Steve touch the radio and one time he kind of does).

Bright by Kerasines / @kerasines (10k, E)

Steve’s face looks golden in the light of the setting sun, and when he drops his eyes from where he was holding Billy’s gaze, his eyelashes paint shadows on the light flush of red in his cheeks. He looks so fucking pretty that Billy’s breathless with it. Doesn’t know what to do, just holds still and can’t tear his eyes from his face as Steve leans in close, too close, to put lotion onto the front of his shoulders, rubbing it in carefully, so carefully, as if he’s trying not to hurt Billy. Touching Billy’s chest, staring at it where it rises with every shallow breath under Steve’s hands. Then he looks up, straight into Billy’s eyes, and Billy’s sure his brain stops working for a second.

Cherry by LazyBaker / @granpappy-winchester (WIP, 33k, E)

They’ve got ten minutes before Steve’s break is up and he has to go back to wishing for death with a smile.

I Like The Way You Look At Me by XxmerthurcatxX / @callmelilyshameless (800, T)

Steve stares a lot. Billy doesn’t mind.

No Running At The Pool! by Thei / @ihni (2k, NR)

“So”, she said, faux-casually, and thus sending a chill down everyone’s spines, “what you’re saying is that you care about us?” “No”, he said gruffly. “I said that you’re not drowning on my watch. I’m a lifeguard. It’s my job. If you’re gonna drown, do it in your own time.” Another smile, sweet like poisoned honey. “But this is our own time. And you’re off duty.”

Those American Thighs by Veeebles (2k, E)

He smokes the rest of Steve’s cigarette, tosses the butt away into the trees and lounges down beside him. Steve is still just sitting there, staring at how Billy stretches his body out, arms behind his head as he bathes in the sun. Those swim shorts should be illegal. They pull tight over his skin, leave absolutely nothing to the imagination where his dick is concerned, and barely reach past his mid-thigh.

something good right now by Highsmith / @rhubarbdreams (1k, M)

When Billy’s skin is almost feverishly hot from the sun, Steve’s fingertips touch his freckles like they’d touch the inside of him, carefully and longingly.

The Drowning of Will Byers by hoppnhorn / @hoppnhorn (2k, M)

Billy never imagined working as a lifeguard would mean actually saving a life.

spark to a flame by gothyringwald / @gothyringwald (1k, T)

Billy’s stomach swoops. He can’t believe he’s holding hands with Steve Harrington, watching fireworks over the quarry. It’s so stupid and girly and…and…fucking romantic.

Buckle (When You Think of Me) by trashcangimmick / @trashcangimmick (4k, E)

Billy doesn’t really ask. He just kind of does stuff. Steve is apparently filthy enough to be cool with it.

cherry pie by brawlite / @brawlite & ToAStranger / @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger (133k, E)

Billy Hargrove lives for summer. Endless sunshine, heavily chlorinated pools, roaming ice cream trucks, and unencumbered freedom? There’s nothing better. Even being stuck in Hawkins can’t ruin the summer for him. He eats it up, devouring every day whole.

A Day at the Fair by LazyBaker / @granpappy-winchester (500, G)

It’s pink. It’s a flamingo.

You Got That Hair Slicked Back (and Those Wayfarers On) by moonflowers / @eatingmoonflowers (4k, M)

Five times Billy knows Steve is hiding something, and one time he finds out what it is.

you (FINALLY) rule by brutesa / @brutesa (3k, G)

“Ahoy, ladies!” Steve calls out when a group of girls enter the shop. Behind him, Robin rolls her eyes, picking up the whiteboard marker.

and you’re trying not to tell him by lymricks / @lymricks (3k, M)

Whatever. They don’t talk, is the point, and Billy doesn’t need to finish all these big, deep, tragic sentences in his head. He needs to know if Harrington can’t swim. For lifeguard reasons. It’s his job, all right?

I’m so bad, best that you’ve had by kate_button / @un-buttoned (4k, E)

Steve doesn’t like mustaches. Billy grows one because he’s Like That. Steve bitches about it. A lot. Until he doesn’t.

Turned Bitch by LazyBaker / @granpappy-winchester (2k, E)

Steve’s rock bottom has a name—Billy Hargrove.

ice ice baby by hoppnhorn / @hoppnhorn (1k, E)

“It’s just so hot out here.” And then the fucker takes the ice cube, rolls it down his chin, along his neck, and down to his collarbone. “I need something to cool off.” Steve usually would suggest using the pool sitting less than a few feet away. But he’s not that incredibly thick. He knows a game when he sees one, and he’s not about to give Billy any reason to stop putting that ice cube where Steve wants his tongue to go.

something happens and i’m by brawlite / @brawlite (10k, E)

Billy loves his job as at the Hawkins Community Pool. It’s even better now that Steve Harrington’s a lifeguard, too.

Scoops by itscrybabyharrington / @itscrybabyharrington (1k, E)

Steve presses his face against the cool lid of the ice cream freezer, watching the metal fog up with each gasp that slips from his mouth. It feels good against his overheated skin, a contrast to the solid wall of heat that is Billy pressed up behind him, fucking into him with enough force Steve finds himself lifting up on his tippy toes trying to squirm away. Or, Billy fucks Steve with an ice cream scoop.

I Couldn’t Help It, It Had To Be You by moonflowers / @eatingmoonflowers (4k, T)

Determined to overcome a summer of boredom and too much ice cream, Steve joins the Hawkins running group. Unfortunately, it turns out the secondary purpose of said group is for the ladies of Hawkins to gush about the effect Billy Hargrove is having on their rosebushes. But maybe if Steve wasn’t so busy being offended by Hargrove’s mere existence, he’d realise he’s completely missing the point.

Holy Shit! by harleygirl2648 / @somebodyhelpthenotdeadfreds (2k, T)

There’s no swearing on duty, even if those are the only words that apply to a sudden realization that is going to ruin/better your entire summer.

Back Atcha, Pretty Boy by XxmerthurcatxX / @callmelilyshameless (2k, E)

Steve goes to the pool to pick up the kids still in his Scoops Ahoy uniform and is less than thrilled to find out that Billy is the new Hawkins Pool lifeguard. Honestly, who thought putting Billy in those tiny ass swim trunks was a good idea? It was doing things to Steve’s brain that he’d rather not think too hard about. But he doesn’t have to worry since it seems like Billy is pretty taken with Steve’s sailor uniform…

Hopeless by LazyBaker / @granpappy-winchester (400, G)

Steve Harrington has chest hair.

wicked little town by gothyringwald / @gothyringwald (20k, E)

The summer after graduation stretches before Steve, seemingly endless and utterly empty. He can’t remember ever being this bored in his life. But when he runs into Billy one night, after hearing a rumour about him at a party, it feels like summer might not be so boring after all.

Tacky Tattoos and Red Trunks by mAadMax / @c0bblenygma (2k, E)

Steve keeps hearing about Billy’s new tattoo and can’t help but being curious about it.

Billy, Steve, Robin and the Not-Obsession by williamastankova / @samaraclegane (3k, G)

In a nutshell, Billy is convinced Steve and Robin are secretly dating (even though they’re really, really not) and it starts to get on their nerves - especially Steve’s.

A Simple Plan by flippyspoon / @flippyspoon​ (5k, T)

Billy has a plan. Steve hanging out at the pool is definitely not a part of it.

Lets hear it for the boy! by nipsu / @nipsus (1k, T)

It’s raining and without thinking Billy gives Steve a ride home. Steve’s shirt is see through and Billy drools like a baby.

You Are What You Eat by XxmerthurcatxX / @callmelilyshameless (800, T)

Steve eats a banana. Billy likes it. A lot.

Won’t You Lay Me Down in Tall Grass (and Let Me Do My Stuff) by moonflowers / @eatingmoonflowers (6k, T)

Fourth of July BBQ at the Byers’. Billy takes out a demodog with a lawn chair while wearing red speedos and smoking a cigarette. Other things happen too, but that’s a highlight.

Ocean of Flavor by itscrybabyharrington / @itscrybabyharrington (700, G)

Billy shouldn’t even be back here, if they get caught it would only add on to the multitude of reasons Steve should rightfully be fired.